It’s impossible to stay mad at him, you don’t know if it’s a sort of manipulation technique or if he’s really that sensitive. But the moment you raise your voice at him and he tries to raise his voice back, tears flood his eyes.
You see it happen in real time: his jaw tightens like he’s going to match your volume, like he’s finally going to stand his ground this once. His shoulders square. His hands ball into loose fists at his sides. And then, nothing. The fight drains out of him faster than water through a sieve. His mouth opens, closes, opens again. The anger that flickered there for half a second collapses into something raw and miserable.
“I—I didn’t mean—” His voice cracks on the second word.
He blinks rapidly, like he can force the tears back if he just tries hard enough. He can’t. They spill anyway, bright and fast, tracking down the sides of his nose. He swipes at them with the heel of his hand, furious with himself.
“Reiner,” you say, softer now despite yourself. “Don’t do that.”
“I’m not doing it on purpose,” he chokes out. “I swear I’m not. I just—fuck, I hate this. I hate that I can’t even yell back without—” He gestures helplessly at his own face, at the wet streaks he keeps smearing. “Without turning into this.”
You cross your arms, trying to hold onto the last frayed threads of your frustration. “You were the one who left the dishes in the sink for three days. Again. After I asked you twice.”
“I know.” His voice is small. He looks at the floor like it might open up and swallow him. “I know I did. I was going to do them tonight, I swear, I just... I’m so fucking sorry.”
He’s already sinking. You can see it in the way his knees bend slightly, the way he starts drifting toward you like he needs to close the distance before you walk away. He doesn’t touch you yet (he never does when he’s like this, not until you give him permission) but he’s leaning in, pleading with his whole body.
You exhale hard through your nose. “You always say that.”
“I know I do.” Another tear slips free. “I know it sounds like an excuse. It probably is an excuse. I see you getting upset and it feels like I’m being torn open. Like I’m doing everything wrong at once. And then I can’t think. I just want you to stop being mad. I’ll do anything. I’ll wash everything right now. I’ll stay up all night. Just, please don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m letting you down.” His voice fractures again. “Like you’re gonna realize you’re better off without—” He stops, throat working. “I can’t breathe when you look at me like that.”
You feel the last of your anger buckle. It’s not fair. None of this is fair. You were allowed to be upset about the dishes. You were allowed to raise your voice. And yet here he is, dissolving right in front of you, and suddenly you’re the one who feels cruel.
You step forward. He flinches like he expects a slap, then freezes when you only reach up and cup the side of his face. His cheek is hot and damp under your palm.
“Reiner,” you say quietly. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m pissed about the dishes. That’s it. I’m not breaking up with you over a sink full of plates. I’m not leaving you. Okay?”
He nods once, jerky. Fresh tears slide down immediately after. “I hate making you angry. I hate it so much. Every time it happens I think ‘this is it, this is the time she decides she’s done.’ And then I can’t stop picturing you walking out. I can’t.”
You brush your thumb under his eye, wiping away the mess he’s made of himself. “I’m still here.”
“I don’t deserve that,” he whispers.
“Stop talking like you’re some kind of punishment I have to endure. You’re not. You’re just… you. And yeah, you drive me up the wall sometimes. But I’m still choosing you. Even when there are dishes in the sink.”
He lets out a broken little laugh that’s mostly sob. “You shouldn’t have to keep choosing me.”
“And yet.” You tilt his chin up so he can’t hide. “Here I am.”
For a second he just stares at you, like he’s trying to memorize the exact shape of your patience. Then he folds forward, slow and careful, until his forehead rests against your shoulder. His arms stay at his sides but you can feel him trembling.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into your shirt. “I’ll do the dishes. And I'll keep everything tidy, I'll do better. Just... don’t hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.” You slide your hand to the back of his neck, fingers threading through the short hairs there. “I love you. Even when you’re being a complete disaster.”
He makes a wounded sound against your collarbone. “I love you too. So much it hurts sometimes.”
You hold him tighter. “I know.”
He stays there a long time, breathing unevenly, letting the last of the tears soak into your shirt. When he finally pulls back his face is blotchy and swollen, but the panic has receded a little.
“Can I—” He hesitates. “Can I hug you? Please?”
You open your arms without a word.
He crashes into you like he’s been starving for it. Arms locked around your ribs, face buried in the crook of your neck, holding on so tightly you can feel every shuddering inhale. You rub slow circles between his shoulder blades and listen to him whisper sorry, sorry, I love you, I’m sorry over and over until the words lose their edges and become just sound.
Eventually he quiets.
You kiss the side of his head. “Go wash the dishes.”
He nods against you, reluctant to let go. “Yeah. Okay. I’m going.”
But he doesn’t move yet. Just stands there holding you like you’re the only solid thing in the room.
am i the only one who likes when bold buffed dudes are subbing and when shy lanky dudes are domming? i enjoy the contrast in general. like yes, let me dom this man in an authority position who has a very deep voice and is conventionally masculine, but let me be dom by the nerdy guy who's overlooked by everyone
okay i think we all know how jealous eren would get. planning on going out without him? he’s there at the door asking with who, where, when will you be back? he’s the embodiment of that one tweet that’s like “what does ily mean” and the replies are just one person asking “who is saying this to you.”
it’s honestly funny because he swears he’s not and that you’re the jealous one. yet if a guy so much as looks at you he’s all grumbly and shifting closer to you. you’d run out of fingers if you tried to count the amount of times he’s threatened a dude for hitting on you.
before you two even started dating he’s jealous. he’ll sling his arm over your shoulder and say something like “yeah she’s good, move along.” the minute someone makes a move on you, claiming “he didn’t look like a good guy that you should be associating with” and definiton cockblocking the whole night.
★ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 … 6/10.
armin’s really not that jealous… well compared to eren atleast he’s not. he’s not loud about it, but it’s still there to a point, just more subsidized.
he says he’s not very jealous, but he happens to get eerily quiet when you’re laughing at one of jean’s—not that funny in armins opinion—jokes. or when he tightens his grip on your wrist when you give sasha a peck for truth or dare—which he tried to convince you out of doing.
and it’s just a coincidence he gets so much more clingy and touchy as you get ready to go out for girls night in a short, slim fitting dress that would make everybody stare and free drinks practically fly your way.
it’s not even that he doesn’t trust you… it’s everyone else he worries about.
★ 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 … 7.5/10.
he’s not jealous-jealous but you better not be—what he considers flirting— complimenting another guy. trust me he knows eren, he’s not that strong just because he won an arm wrestling match, that you have to say it.
the funny thing is he doesn’t even know how obvious he is when he’s so clearly jealous. he gets all short with everybody—even you.
“jean can you hold my purse for me for one sec.”
“thought eren was so strong? im sure he’ll hold it for you”
“what?”
later that night you’ll ask him about it and he’ll just deny deny deny that he was jealous. of eren? pff. he just didn’t like how you acted so close to eren—that’s not jealousy! it sure as hell wasn’t jealousy when he nearly fights connie for saying he’ll “save you from jean” when he’s being annoying.
he’s not jealous. you believe him—right?
★ 𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 … 8/10.
so jealous it’s cute and honestly kind of sad. deep down he’s a really insecure guy so seeing you even giggle too hard at another guys joke makes him painfully jealous. he’s confused, sad and upset all at once—
do you not love him? do you think the other guy is funnier? are you cheating on him?
what do you mean you’re taking piecks jacket instead of his— are you embarrassed of him?
only admits he’s jealous over something after you pry it out of him and tries to act like it’s no big deal when questioned after he just spent the whole night sulking.
he needs some reassurance that you want him and not what’s-his-face. you know if you started maybe… kissing him, saying how handsome and funny he is, clinging onto him and asking what you would do without him… he wouldn’t complain per say.
fucking your precious boyfriend on a scouting mission because he can’t keep his hands off of you
request summary. I would like to request a reiner × reader smut fic where they’re already in a relationship. I’m thinking something along the lines of him fully dressed, grinding against her and begging her, but she ignores him until she breaks too and rides him. but he’s so much closer than her, so he keeps telling her to slow down cuz he’ll cum so soon. the rest is up to your interpretation. does he cum first? is he forced to cum twice? does he cum at all?
content. afab!reader, established relationship, dry humping, pathetic reiner, soft sex
oh, reiner … your gorgeous, big, needy boyfriend. you’re at an encampment somewhere in the middle of the forest with the scout regiment, and it has to be past midnight at this point.
but he’s there, whining and whimpering, holding you close with his handsome face buried in your neck and his big hands all over you. he’s always so needy, but only if you’re okay with it. he immediately backs off if you show any sort of hesitation, but it’s not often that you do — you’re both desperate for comfort.
“reiner, baby, you okay?”
he shakes his head, pulling you closer into his strong chest. he’s behind you, cuddled up in the blankets with you on the cold ground, trying to make the best of the sleeping situation. you were lucky enough to snag a tent with him and he’s been glued to you the entire night.
“I don’t need much, baby, just look at me, please,” he begs, so softly, and you turn your face to look at him. your noses gently brush against each other while your long lashes flit up to meet his gaze.
“hm?”
he exhales a sweet little moan once your eyes meet, his pretty golden irises shimmering with love and affection. he grips you even tighter.
he is so pathetically in love with you that this is really all it that takes for him sometimes. your intoxicating scent, sweet voice, the soft eye contact, any sort of acknowledgement and validation. you don’t even have to touch him, just being there is enough.
he’s fully hard now, grinding against you. “is this okay?”
“yeah, baby, m’just too sleepy … we have to be up at sunrise again tomorrow, but do whatever you want.”
he groans against your neck. “I love you so much, angel, it makes my heart fucking hurt. so perfect for me.”
“yeah? you’re such a good boy, reiner.”
he chokes out a soft cry, and you’d be lying if you tried to say that you weren’t getting a bit worked up, but you’re exhausted. he’s softly pawing at your stomach and hips, crying and sniffling. he’s just so fucking big, his warm hands traveling along your pretty body, and his big, heavy length slotted against you.
“you love me, don’t you? please tell me that you love me, baby.”
“I love you, reiner.”
he sighs, his heart pounding in his chest. you kiss him softly, one of his hands gently wrapping around your throat, the other pushing your hips back into his and holding you there. he’s rubbing against you in long strokes, humping against your thighs and ass. the friction from the clothes does feel good, but he desperately wants to touch your skin.
while you’re distracted by his mouth, his fingers pull at your pajamas and slip into your panties. you moan against his lips, so close that you’re stealing each other’s breaths. he rubs your clit so softly, in gentle circles, just enough for your cunt to start dripping around his fingertips. after a moment, you push his hand away and he whines.
“shhhh, just focus on yourself.” you reassure him as you turn away, still mostly preoccupied with sleep. “n-need, please.” he whispers, on the verge of tears. “yeah? you need my pussy, baby?” you take his hand in yours again, and you’re so much smaller than him. you guide his hand back into your panties, gently placing your fingers over top of his while he whimpers and humps you harder.
he’s close, but he’s having second thoughts about cumming in his pants and making such a mess this fucking late. he slips his pajamas off, turning you onto your stomach and fucking your perfect thighs while rubbing your clit. he’s practically laying on top of you, his face still in your neck and you’re both panting and moaning into the pillows — it’s desperate, messy, and rushed, but it feels so fucking good.
“reiner, just—” you breathe, hardly able to think. at first, you didn’t care about finishing, but now it’s all you can think about. “just let me fuck you, baby, please, just lay down.”
“nnnn,” he whines, “I’m gonna cum, angel, please, I can’t—”
“rei, baby, be good, just listen to me.”
he swallows hard, pouting, but of course he’s going to listen to you. he’s your good boy.
he lets you settle on top of him, his toes curling and his eyes nearly crossing as soon as you sink down onto his thick cock. your warm, tight pussy gets caught on his rosy head due to the lack of prep, and you softly fuck yourself on it until you can slip further down his length. he lets out a cry, covering his mouth, biting his hand to keep quiet.
you normally need to be prepped much more because he’s so big, but you need him fast and you need him now. it’ll always be a struggle to fit him, and his gentle fingering didn’t really open you up much. your brows knit together as you bite your lip in concentration, planting your dainty hands onto his chest, your little pussy fluttering as she swallows him down inch by inch.
“reiner .. it’s too fucking big,” you pout, riding him as best as you can in deep, languid strokes that you can feel in your tummy.
“I know, m’so sorry, baby. I’ll eat your pussy for hours next time, I’m sorry, I just needed you so fucking bad tonight.” he sighs, breathless.
he lets you fuck him like this, one hand resting behind his head and the other on your waist, his muscles clenching and shimmering in the soft candlelight. he thinks that you’re the most gorgeous thing in the world, and he can’t believe how lucky he is to let you use him like this, to be allowed the privilege of pleasing you .. which makes him realize that he should be the one doing the work.
“doin’ so good for me, c’mere, pretty girl.” he whispers, softly laying you onto his chest, his hands guiding your hips to ride him. he knows how sleepy you are, and he just wants you to sit there and take it like his perfect little cocksleeve. and god, are you good at it; just whining and crying and praising him, softly digging your nails into his muscular chest while you lick and suck at his neck, brushing against his sensitive nipples every so often, making him whimper and lose control.
you’re absolutely soaked now, which lets him pound you hard as he easily slips in and out of your pretty hole. he’s so gentle and sweet in the way he touches you, but not in the way that he’s fucking you right now. he can tell that you’re close, and he’s surprised that he’s held out this long. your pussy is squeezing around him like your life depends on it, and you’re fucked out, mewling about how deep he is and how fucking good he feels.
“shhhh, baby, just cum for me, please.” he pleads so softly, taking his thumb to rub your little sweet spot to help you out. “good fucking girl, that’s it.” he feels you clench down hard as you cum on his big cock, and he has to pull out right that second or he’s going to fill you up. the pit of your stomach is hot, all molten lust that pours out of you while you shiver and clench around nothing, and he replaces two of his thick fingers right where he was inside of you so that he can help fuck you through it.
you’re sobbing, wetting his chest with warm tears, grasping at him and you feel ropes of hot, thick cum coat his abs where you’re on top of him. reiner groans and cries your name, holding you close as he quietly shushes you, still rubbing his gorgeous, massive, needy cock against your stomach just to overstim himself against your soft skin.
he kisses your pretty face all over, and you’re already falling asleep again because you’re so comfy and content. he grabs a worn shirt of his and cleans up before slipping on fresh clothes, trying his best not to stir you. he doesn’t care about any sticky mess on himself; he just wants you to be comfortable and warm for the night. he sighs, softly kissing your cheek as he holds you close. reiner looks at you with all of the love in the world, rubbing your back and threading his scarred fingers through your hair.
“love you, angel girl.”
yeah, he plans to wake you up with head in the morning as thanks for putting up with him when he gets like this.
先輩 ⸻ written by senpai with love
notes. reiner, you’ll always be famous :3
[ @slutsenpai ⨯ my masterlist ] — likes, reblogs & comments much appreciated! ◟♡ do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my writing anywhere for any reason
men who are DEVOTED munchers becoming a stuttering mess when you ask to give them head… they look at you like you just asked the most incredulous question in existence. you? give him head? right now? he’s so used to servicing you— the thought of you giving him head already had him shamefully twitching in his pants and dizzy.
“are you sure, my love? no, i mean, you don’t need to… i mean—”
poor baby can barely put a sentence together even before the touching has even happened. don’t get him wrong, it’s not that he doesn’t want it. he’s indulged— matter of fact, he’s stroked a few ones out at the thought of you sucking him off. on your knees, pretty glossy doe eyes looking up at him while you struggle to take all of him in your mouth. it’s just that he’s always been a little shy. too embarrassed to ask you. it’s pathetic— hilarious even that a burly, bulking man of his stature couldn’t bring himself to ask his darling little wife something so simple. he was devoted to you. the man worshipped you. he knew his purpose. it was clear as day in fact. to service and care for you. to follow you like the smitten fool he was. he knew that he was meant for nothing else the moment he had laid his eyes on you. he was yours.
your husband’s putty once you begin leaving behind the softest of kisses down his chest and trembling stomach. the smell of his skin and the hushed whimpers every once in a while leaving his pretty lips dulling your senses. you had to pull away to admire the sight— your hungry eyes drinking in the mesmerizing sight of your man. the contour of his prominent muscles; the number of ruthless hours he’d managed to put into training never failed to impress you. the tank he wore now bunched up and resting on the swell of his pecs; buds glossed over with drool while his chest heaved with every shuddering breath he took, and god, the trail of thick hair leading down to his veiny lower abdomen.
he’s practically a pathetic puddle of moans and drool while you attempt to push another inch of his twitching length down your throat minutes later, the tuft of hair on his abdomen tickling your nose as your mouth painfully stretches to take in his fat girth. your tousled hair not going unnoticed as he begins to comb it back, chivalrous as ever while he holds it back with one shaky hand, the other draped over his burning face.
“ah, hnng..! fuuuuck… just—just like that, pretty…”
he drools out, a fucked out mess of groans and praises just for you as he bucks his shaky hips into your mouth involuntarily, apologizing hastily at the sound of your gagging. but oh, how you could practically live off this rare sight. your panties soaking wet at the sight of your husband selfishly chasing his high. you suck in your tear stained cheeks, hallowing them out as his fat leaky tip hits the back of your throat. you were no better than him; a slobbering, gagging perverted mess as you begin to massage and stroke the base of his wet cock.
he strains out, his hips twitching up as his head presses back against the arm of the couch, his bulging biceps flexing from the iron grip he has on your hair as he thrusts into your mouth once more. you pull away from his thick girth to catch your breath, eliciting a whine that you swore had you ascending. sticky gloss and spit trailing down his cock and connecting from your lips as you push his cock against his tense stomach to lick at the veiny underside. you allow the tip of your tongue to massage against a vein before leaving behind sloppy kisses at the thick shaft down to his twitching balls. he jolts forward in shock, heels digging into the plush surface of the couch. the veins straining underneath the thin skin of his large hands, almost like they were ready to burst with how tight he fingers were interlocked with the roots of your hair.
he can barely control himself, at this point mindlessly babbling on about how lucky he is to have you, how much he loves you, how close he is to cumming. you begin to massage the base of his sticky cock once more before sliding the wet shaft past your lips, slurping shamelessly as you begin to bob your head back up and down. it doesn’t take another second before he shoots his thick load right down your warm, wet cavern. riding out his orgasm as you massage and you pull your head up with a pop, gasping for air as he begins to wipe at your mouth, praising you for taking him so well. he definitely didn’t mind a bit of spoiling here and there. especially from you.
ᣟ៹ ❤︎៝ : first smut sweats .. can you tell i’m a sucker for big men who turn into a whimpering mess for you i’m sorry for any spelling mistakes in advance… i’ll check later after class !! （＾ω＾）
what the aot men think about when they touch themselves ₊˚⋆
﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵
CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUTTY, mentions of your sex life with the boys, masturbation, lots of jerking off obvi, these boys are freaks, heavy petting, mentions of blowjobs, fingering, handjobs, face fucking, non consensual photo taking, mentions of non consensual phone sex (reader is unaware), pillow humping, armin is kind of a perv im not sorry, brief mentions of oral f!receiving/cum eating if you squint, mommy kink, shower sex, slight size kink, light cum tribute if you squint, slight public masturbation, overstimulation, unprotected sex and creampies
TRIGGER WARNINGS : there are mentions in one of the scenarios with the boys where he took photos of you without your consent, as well as one sided phone sex where the reader is unaware it is happening, besides that i can't think of anything else but if there's smth i missed pls lmk !
includes : eren, armin, jean, reiner, connie, levi and erwin
word count : 5k
what's playing : love to love you, baby by donna summer
a/n : happy late birthday to me ! this is just pure self indulgence as a bday gift to myself but i still wanted to share nonetheless hehe. i hope you all enjoy, if you do pls lmk in the comments bc your guys' love means everything to me <3
eren (๑•﹏•)
contrary to popular belief, eren doesn’t jerk off a lot
his depravity runs deep that’s for sure, he’s got a plentiful imagination that can easily aid him in his alone time
and yet he never really puts it to use often
unless he’s extremely pent up or so bored that nothing else seems interesting enough except for masturbating
and when he began dating you, he couldn’t keep his hands off of you, finally having obtained a beautiful, perfect outlet to release his pent up energy into
why would he spill over his knuckles when he could just do it inside of you?
but when you’re far and gone from him, and when he misses you too much to bare…
he’s not above jerking off while thinking about you
if anything he thinks it’s romantic
and depending on the severity of his desire and the amount of patience he has or lack thereof, the scenarios shift around
if the hunger for you is a slow burn, one that lightly simmers throughout the day until it bubbles over into an explosion of burning heat inside him, then he’ll start off slow, making himself horny without even realizing it
like when you had to go out of town for a week to visit a sick family member, his mind kept lingering on the last kiss you two shared before you were off
how you went up on your tippy toes, your hands cupped around his jaw as you kissed him deeply, tilting your head and angling into him with a soft moan of contentment in his mouth
you pulled away, resting your forehead to his, a little breathy giggle falling from your lips and fanning over his, like you caught the way you were losing yourself in the kiss for just a second too long
you gave him another peck as you began to pull away, your hand faltering from his jaw, down to his chest, drawing out your touch before you left
he kept thinking about it, replaying it over and over in his mind, his stomach fluttering at the thought of how your breasts felt pressed to his chest, how you were the one who deepened the kiss and held his face close to yours, how a fucking moan slipped from you and all he did was kiss you
and his mind trickled over into the obscene, and he imagined pushing you up against the door, one hand around your jaw, forcing you to look at him, and the other locking the door behind you
he’d have cupped your pussy over your pants and rubbed your clit with the heel of his palm, watching how you crumble so quickly and spread your legs for him
then he’d unzip your pants and flip you around, tugging your jeans just under your ass, making the already plump flesh swell from the material bunched beneath it
his hand would slide under the sweater you had on and he’d be greeted with the lack of a bra, and he’d grope and squeeze your breasts while fingering your soaked cunt, forcing you to kiss him while he fucked you on his fingers
then in his mind, he’d have you jerk him off, while in reality he was fucking his fist, desperately pretending it was your soft hand wrapped around him
he’d try and really sell the fantasy for himself, squirting lotion into his palm and warming it up before going right back to it, the vision behind his closed eyes extending the scene into him fucking you up against the door, burying himself deep into you and rolling his hips against your ass, never fully pulling out, just shifting enough to provide you both the much needed friction
he’d be moaning in your shared bed, his heavy eyes parting just to glance over at your side, wishing you were there while he pictured your naked body, groaning heavily as he focused on your presence even if you weren’t there
he’d finish to the thought of filling you to the hilt, stuffing you full of cock while he cums in you, each spurt inside you making you completely full of him
he’d be shuddering your name as he came, murmuring in broken sentences of “fu..fuckin’ mine,” and “my girl, my girl,”
and then when he’s impatient his fantasies shed their gentle nature
(as if the original one had much to begin with)
his go to is pushing you on your knees and fucking your face
despite how fucking bad he wants to absolutely fuck your throat, he holds back because he loves you and he knows he’s well endowed, and if he took you the way he really wanted to…
suffice to say he fears it wouldn’t be as pleasurable for you as it would be for him
you can already barely take his cock as it is, when you let him into your mouth, your poor jaw gets sore so quickly and you gag when he hits the back of your throat
it turns him on so much watching you sputter and catch your breath
and fuck its so hot the way you look up at him with those beautifully helpless, watery eyes, your hands trembling as you double fist his cock while you try to soothe your gag reflex before attempting to go back down
it’s not that you’re bad at sucking his dick, he loves your gentle and earnest approach, loves how your slow pace makes him really focus and enjoy the feeling, how you lick up his shaft and make out with his tip
but goddamn sometimes that pretty mouth of yours pisses him off and all he wants is to fuck the attitude clean off your tongue with his cock filling your jaw
so he’ll act out this desire in the only way he can and fuck the tunnel of his palm while envisioning its your little throat
he’ll be hunched over in bed, one hand pressed to the headboard while the other thrusts into his fist, grunting to himself and pretending his words are falling into your ears
“take it — take that fuckin’ cock, s’all you’re good for,” he’d grit, throwing his head back with his hips crashing into his fist
he cums so hard whenever he thinks about this, about gripping the back of your hair and yanking you backward, prompting you to scramble for purchase over his hips while he watches his cock fill your throat
and when he’s finished he feels disgusting and guilty but it’s never enough to make him stop thinking about it
maybe one day he’ll work up the courage to try and bring up deepthroating </3
armin (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄
dear sweet, sweet armin
he’s a secret pervert
and although he’s your boyfriend, you don’t realize how much of a debauched freak he really is
he doesn’t like to be loud and proud of it, instead he’s quiet and ashamed
he wants to be respectful and treat you the way you deserve to be treated
especially because he just can’t wrap his head around the idea that someone like you would go for someone like him, even despite all your loving reassurances that you give him, always letting him know that you feel like you’re the lucky one
but he’s not so sure you’d maintain those sentiments if you knew what he used to do before you began dating
he’d hump his pillow, his long fingers curling around the soft cushion while pretending it was your hips as he thought of you, yearned for you
he’d prop his phone on the mattress before him while he humped his pillow, a quick blurry upskirt shot he took of you when he allowed you to go first up the stairs
or when you fell asleep at one of sasha’s parties, he snapped a photo of you passed out on her couch, claiming it was because connie drew a mustache on you and he thought it was funny, but really he just wanted to have it so he could zoom in on your tits practically falling out your dress and your exposed panties just barely peaking out from how high your dress rode up
he’d rest on his tummy, his pillow tucked beneath him and just grind, his hand shakily reaching towards his phone to pathetically zoom in on your clothed pussy
it was such bad quality, but it was enough to make him genuinely salivate
the photo never failed to make him shoot a fat load into a wad of tissues, and he’d always have to rush and grab a few tissues from off his nightstand, not wanting evidence of his disgusting actions to be left on his pillow
and when you finally got together?
he didn’t think his fantasies could get more pitiful and degenerate, but of course, they did
he likes to take the last article of clothing you’ve worn and nearly smother himself with it, burying his face with your soft clothes and warm scent while he strokes himself, trying to copy the way you touch him
he whimpers for you, calls out for you as if you could hear him, begging an invisible you to please let him cum
he’d never admit this but he cums so fucking hard to the thought of you at your laptop, looking so focused and beautiful with your work, and you glancing over at him and noticing he’s hard
in his fantasy, you make him speak to you while he’s on his knees, and you make him explain why he deserves to feel mommy’s pussy when she’s clearly busy
in his mind he convinces you and you bend over, paying him no mind while you continue typing on your laptop, allowing him to fuck you from behind
his front would curl tightly over your back while his hands roam all over you desperately, always paying extra attention to your breasts
his cheek would rest over the nape of your neck, and he’d breathe you in like a depraved freak, panting and whimpering about how thankful he is to fuck his mommy
you’d rub your clit with one hand and continue with your work on the other, occasionally granting him a “you feel so good baby, that’s my good boy,”
you have zero idea that he overstimulates himself in your shared bed while he moans for you, twitching while he pictures cumming in you and you forcing him to lick you clean after
“thank you mommy...” armin whispers to himself whenever he finishes cumming, catching his breath and wishing you were there to lap up the mess in his fist
maybe one day he’ll bring it up to you…
until then it’s his pillow and him against the world
jean (⩌⩊⩌)
similarly to eren, jean doesn’t really jerk off that often
but where they differ is that while eren never feels above masturbating, jean does
it makes him feel like a horny teen and he hates it
however one sentiment that they share is : “why fuck my hand when i could fuck a beautiful woman instead?”
it’s not that he doesn’t like jerking off, it’s that he’s ashamed to enjoy it, but not enough to where he can stave off avoiding it every time
he’s only a man, he’s bound to give in every once in awhile
he obviously daydreams of you when he does it, but more specifically he thinks about how soft you always seem to feel, and not just your tight cunt
for example, he’ll think about your arms, how delicate you feel in his grip when he grabs your forearm and pins it behind your back while he fucks you
or your legs when he throws them over his shoulders and slides his fat cock inside of you all the way
or your sweet tummy, how cute it is when he kisses his way down to your pussy, occasionally sinking his teeth into the side of your belly, laughing to himself when you gasp and shyly whine for him to stop
everything about you is so fragile to him, but not because he thinks you’re weak, but because to him you’re just so perfect in every way — in other words you’re precious cargo
picturesque montages of your body in different angles and positions, a compilation of all his favorite moments you two have had during sex plays behind his eyes while he jerks off
he’s a simple man with simple pleasures
one in particular however, he seems to revisit more often than the others
he thinks about this time you woke up from a nap and went into the bathroom while he was showering
initially he thought you just missed him and were going to hop up on the bathroom counter and talk his ear off while he shampooed but instead you ignored his affectionate greeting, of “hi my sleepy girl, you feelin’ alright?”
you stared at him while you stripped off your clothes and entered the shower with him
you grabbed his face and kissed him hard, hiking your leg around his hip to grind against him with the same urgency as if time was going to run out and you’d never get to touch him again
he was completely gobsmacked, you’d never been like that before but he was not going to complain
he fell into a rhythm with you, pulling you in close and feeling the blood flood his cock in record timing
he rutted against you, groaning in your mouth and gripping your ass, pulling you in harder
“had a dream,” you finally explained, kissing down his jaw and neck, nearly sucking bruises into his skin
“where you fucked me so good,” you whispered in his ear, pulling back just barely enough to where he could see the starved glint in your eye
“and i woke up so wet for you,” you shakily breathed out, swallowing hard as your head lulled back upon feeling him start to circle your hole
“i need you so bad jean,” you whimpered, trying to angle your hips just right and make him slip inside
but he didn’t need to be told a second time
he pushed in, his face falling to your tits as he started fucking you, pressing you up against the tiled walls
usually he has to finger you to get you prepared for his cock but you weren’t lying, you were so fucking wet that it made his intrusion easier than ever
he suspected you touched yourself before you came into the shower, and the thought only made him hornier
you were crazy in those small four walls, he watched you fuck yourself on his cock as you leaned against the wall, looking down at your connected bodies and rubbing your clit at the sight
fuck the memory makes him so rock hard he worries his dick will just fall off his body
he remembers how he pressed you against the glass door and fucked you from the back, grabbing some soap and rubbing it over your ass, watching your skin grow sudsy from it
he dragged a hand over the fogged glass just enough to allow him to see your tits smushed against the shower door through the mirror outlooking you both
he made you watch as he fucked you hard, whispering in your ear if he was doing it just like he did in your dream
you sobbed a garbled moan, nodding like the dumb little girl you become when he gets his cock in you
ugh he came sooo hard in you that afternoon, and he cums nearly just as hard every time he thinks about it
since then he prays everyday that you get another wet dream with him in it
reiner (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) ‹𝟹
reiner actually jerked off a lot before you two started dating
poor thing would feel so guilty every time, always so ashamed with the notion that he was disrespecting you by doing it and that he was just too weak to stop
it was honestly lamentable, how he was over you before you were his
he’d think about how warm your hand was when you gently held onto his arm while guiding yourself through a full crowd
or about how good your perfume and shampoo smelled and how much of a human heater you were and are — these qualities of yours surfaced his mind specifically when he’d think about how he had to lean down to hug you, and how your scent enveloped him and how it felt as though your heat could melt ice right off of him
but when you were finally all his, he didn’t have to rely on jerking off to abstract concepts of you anymore
no longer did he have to only rely on things like you saying his name in the middle of a text — the simple action would somehow make him hard because oh my god she’s saying my name she typed it she used her thumbs to pick out the letters in my name i love her so much
instead he could just actually have sex with you
but when you’re not there or if you’re sick or on your period, he’d rather die than ask you and make you feel pressured, so he just takes care of himself
he thinks about your face a lot, your smile, your giggle, this specific way your eyebrows draw together when he’s making you feel really good, how your lip trembles with moans when he stuffs you with his fingers
how you paw at him, at his chest and shoulders, down his fit body and beg him to fuck you
he thinks about the initial push inside of you when you guys have sex, how you always gasp every time, your legs coming round to tighten around his hips
your eyes flutter shut and your lips shakily drop open from being stretched out by him, and fuck your back arches so prettily off the bed while you lift your hips, trying to accommodate his size
you’re just this perfect sexy thing beneath him that turns him on like nothing else, and it’s honestly a true testament to his control and reserve that he can hold back from cumming immediately upon seeing you like that
so when he jerks off he replays that over and over in his mind, sinking his fist over his cock and pretending it’s him sliding into your pussy for the first time
he thinks about how he has to rock into you slowly, a steady in and out, stretching you out before he can begin to really fuck you
how you whimper and start to rock your hips against his impatiently, so fucking needy for his cock
he loves how much you desire him, it makes him feel so loved and needed, like he’s the only one who can bring you pleasure
he thinks about how you moan his name, doing his best to focus on the memory of your breathy cries for him while he fucks you, how you chant his name like saying it alone makes you feel good
he often thinks back to the time you begged him to cum inside you for the first time, and it does him in every single time
it was your first night in your first apartment together and you guys were breaking in your new bed
he was so ecstatic to have taken this new level of the relationship with you, and you could feel it in the way he fucked you
and in how he kissed your lips and down your jaw and neck, how he rubbed your clit so perfectly in tune with his thrusts
“please, please cum in me reiner, wanna feel you deep in me please, baby?” you had panted, like it hurt to think of him cumming anywhere else but inside you
and fuck, he definitely granted you your wish, his hips stilled, thick thighs tensing as he came deep in you, spurting thick and heavy ropes into your tight cunt without a care in the world
he loves that memory so much, he blushes when he thinks about it and makes a mess of his fist every time
connie ((⚆·̫⚆‧̣̥̇ ))
nearly without fail connie will jerk off whenever he misses you
that boy is clingy as hell
it’s not his fault his girlfriend is just so damn hot !
and it’s not like you two have sex every single day, it’s just that when you’re not around, your absence is too loud for him to ignore and he begins to have those dead wife flashback montages in his head like in the movies
something you like about connie is how dirty he can be, it's a trait only you’re allowed to see, considering you’re his girlfriend, it makes sense that you’d be the only one who sees that side of him
he’s so playful, fun and sweet, that sometimes it’s such a jarring 180 when he gets horny
he’ll fuck you from the back and grunt for you to fuckin’ stay put when you try moving your hands away from the headboard
and god forbid you wear a skirt around him when he’s feeling ravenous…
he’ll hike it up and lower your panties down to your ankles and fuck you hard, slamming his hips flush to your ass while he fists the delicate material of your skirt
he thinks about these things when he jerks off and gets so upset he can’t just take you the way he wants to
he almost gets frustrated, huffing as he palms himself and looks at pictures of you on his phone, swiping through them until he gets impatient and shoves his sweatpants and boxers down below his hips to touch himself properly
he’ll look at all the selfies you’ve sent him and jerk off, throwing his head back as he imagines himself there with you when you took the photo
like with this one photo, it’s probably his favorite selfie of you, you’re in his car with no makeup, a tank top and those leggings he loves
you sent him the pic while you waited for him to grab something from your place and come back, playfully but still impatiently rushing him to return to you
he thinks you look so beautiful there, so bare faced and sweet
and fuck, you weren’t wearing a bra and he left the ac on for you so your nipples were hard and pressing against the thin material of your tank
your thighs were in the shot too, full flesh contained by the confinements of those goddamn yoga pants
he’ll stare at that photo and think about pulling you to the backseat, locking the doors and ravishing you
he’d pull that tank top under your tits and rip a hole in the crotch of those tight leggings, swearing he’ll buy you another pair as soon as he’s done with you
he’d kiss you hard, one hand around your throat while the other takes his cock and swirls his fat tip over your clit, knocking before entering
y’know, like a true gentleman
in this fantasy you’re dripping for him, making a complete mess of his backseat, but he doesn’t care, it just turns him on that much more to see proof of your arousal smeared across the leather seats
as he zooms in on your tits, he’d picture them bouncing while he fucks you, groaning thickly at the thought of taking them in his mouth while he pumps you full of his cock
his hands would be all over you, squeezing and gripping and pulling you down onto his dick relentlessly
he has got to be more careful when he gets like this because he loses himself in the hazy daydream that consists of you and him and in return accidentally cums on his phone
and although he feels irritated and disgusted with himself whenever it happens, he can’t lie… seeing your sweet smile covered with a shot of his cum makes him twitch and almost tempted to go another round with himself
but he’ll just wait until you come back home to him instead
levi (҂⌣̀_⌣́)
eren doesn’t jerk off often because he already has you, and jean is too embarrassed to do it, but levi?
he hates the mess, hates giving into such primal urges, it makes him feel weak and like he’s slipping — slipping with his grip on self control
but similarly to jean, he’s just a man at the end of the day and will give in when he can’t ignore the tension between his legs any longer
he doesn’t talk about it with you, worried that it’ll somehow ruin your image of him
but little does he know that if you knew he touched himself to the thought of you, you’d suck his dick until he could not physically produce another drop of cum
he’s such a busy guy he doesn’t really have the time to do it anyway, and he uses it to his advantage, trying to bury himself in his work instead of his fist
but when he comes home and you’re not there, the feelings become even harder to push to the back of his mind
he’ll crawl into the bed you two share, bones heavy and tired and heart hurting from ending his day without you there with him
he’ll reach out for your pillow and lay his cheek against it, exhaling lowly when his hands slowly grapple towards your blanket
he’ll bring it to his nose and breathe in the remnants of your scent, tangling his legs along with it
he’ll slowly grind against the warm blanket, groaning with both a need for you to be there and with reluctance towards the entire thing
he’ll keep some of the material by his nose and lips, breathing you in like a mask while he bunches up the rest of it and unzips his pants
he’ll free his cock and stroke himself, hesitant to slide between the folds he made with the blanket
he knows it’s dirty, knows it’s gross and it’ll be a mess after he’s done
but his very rare, indulgent side will peek around the corner and remind himself that he can rush to your washing machine to wash it before the stain sets and hardens
and that’s enough for him to give in
he’ll shakily exhale when he feels the soft fabric of your blanket, his mind immediately racing to you and how your body was once wrapped up with the same material he’s fucking
it makes his cock twitch, just the thought of you laying there beside him
he’ll lean his cheek into your pillow as if it were your hand cupping him and take a deep inhale of your blanket, smiling slightly when he can make out hints of your lotion and shampoo
he thrusts into the tunnel of his fist covered by your blanket, shuddering as he gives in to his urges
he thinks of you and how happy you are to take care of him, to make him feel good
he’s a grown, capable adult, he’s used to relying on himself and only himself but when you came around, he slowly but surely let down his guard and allowed you to aid him in things where he doesn’t even really require assistance
not because he feels as though you think he’s incapable, but because you know he’s been too capable for too long
even with sex, he never saw it as a necessity or anything of importance
but now because of you he’s fucking your blanket and shakily murmuring your name
he doesn’t think about anything crazy, he just thinks of your body connected with his, trying his best to separate his mind and body from what he’s doing, trying to pretend it’s your soft cunt wrapped around him instead
he thinks of you pushing him onto his back and straddling him, interlocking your fingers beside his head while you ride his cock at a slow and easy pace
you’d drag your soaked pussy up and down over his thick length, spoiling him rotten while he gazes at the beautiful sight of you on top of him
you’d grind your hips down into perfect swivels over him, and he’d groan, swallowing hard as his cock twitches inside you
when your sex life was still new and budding, he used to want to wear condoms to ensure your lack of pregnancy and make clean up easier
but when you reassured him that you were on birth control and to avoid making a mess he could just cum inside you, and that you’d be so good for him and keep it all in
well…
who was he to try and argue with logic like that!
he’d look down and watch as you took him in all the way, making his cock disappear inside you like a magic trick
you hypnotized him and cleansed his mind of all his stressors and instead filled him with pleasure as you rode him
your pussy always feels so fucking heavenly when it grips him, giving him exactly what he needs and exactly how he needs it
he loves cumming inside you, loves guiding you onto your back with a towel underneath you, spreading you open and watching his cum pour out of you
he’ll shove his fingers inside you and push your hip down when you gasp and squirm away from being too sensitive
he’ll shush you and fuck his cum back into your cunt, glancing up at you with a faint smug look in his eye
“i thought you’d promise me you’d be good and keep all my cum inside?” he’d tease you, and you’d whimper, too busy trembling as he fingers your poor overstimmed pussy
ugh god the sounds you make
he always muffles you with his palm but really he likes that he’s why you can’t seem to hold it together and control yourself
and when he spills into the ripples of your blanket, despite his exhaustion from his orgasm, he pulls his boxers up and immediately rushes into your laundry room downstairs
he’ll quickly run the blanket under some cold water and then throw it in the wash, leaning against the machine and watching it spin in circles, his mind drifting off to the longing he feels for you, wishing that you were there with him
erwin (๑╹o╹)✎
this poor man is constantly working long nights at the office, you don’t really get to see him as much as either of you would like
sure the money is nice, but damn spending time with you would be nice too!
sometimes you stop by and visit him at work to bring him lunch and moments like that make his whole week
he’ll draw the curtains and shield the view of you away from his coworkers and other subordinates from peeking in, wanting you all to himself for what sparing minutes he has with you
he’ll haul you into his lap and hold your jaw, pulling you down to kiss him
it never goes further than just kissing, a long wordless ‘i miss you’, and sometimes he’s almost tempted to give in and forgo his important deadlines and spend that time fucking you on his desk
but it never happens and you end up leaving sooner than he’d like, wishing him a good day and a promise of seeing him later that night at home
and then he’ll begrudgingly return to his work
he’s always one of if not the last one to leave, even though he technically doesn’t have to, he’s the boss and he believes in carrying his own weight and not letting it trickle amongst people who don’t have his work included in their pay grade
he’ll spend that time heavily focused on his work, just trying his best to get enough done before he leaves, but sometimes, in the late hour of the night, he’ll swear he can catch whiffs of your perfume in the air from when you visited him earlier in the day
it isn’t a rarity, the times you’ve left him with a hard cock, kissing him goodbye and innocently sauntering out of his office as if you weren’t sitting directly on his clothed dick, with your warm panty clad pussy pressed over him
and most of the time he just has to direct his attention back to his work and let his cock go down on its own
but sometimes?
he doesn’t want to just sit uncomfortably with his cock straining against his slacks
he’s ashamed to admit it and would never do so under any circumstances, but on occasion when he knows he’s the only one left at the office, he’ll palm himself under his desk, soothing the ache before he frees himself completely, pulling the trash can in front of him just in case he makes a mess
he’ll stroke his cock, lulling back into his chair as he exhales your name, shutting his eyes and thinking back to your little visit
he thinks about making you stay with him, about hiking up that pretty dress you put on for him and shoving your panties in your mouth and fucking you
he thinks about lifting you up and carrying you towards his floor to ceiling mirrors that outlook the city, pressing you up against the glass and fucking you while he burns his lips into the side of your neck
he thinks about making a wreck of you in his office, fucking you on every surface he possibly can
bending you over his desk, or laying you on top of it, fucking you as you lay across his chair, on the ground, up against the wall — you name it he’s thought it and came to it
he just loves the idea of doing something so filthy in a professional setting, and of you letting him
he misses you so much and the way your pussy feels wrapped around his cock, he wishes he could have you teleport to him during those long nights and take care of him the way you do at home
sometimes he’ll call you when he’s really desperate and needs a little something extra while he touches himself
he’ll steady his breathing, apologizing if he woke you up
you always say no and that you’re too busy missing him to be able to sleep
he chuckles and his heart hurts but it makes his cock twitch in his fist
“talk to me, dear, i just want to hear your voice for awhile.” he’ll say, balancing the phone between his cheek and neck, the cord from the phone going taut as he leans back and fucks his fist, listening to your sweet voice recount your day
he’ll listen to you describe how you finally got around to cleaning your kitchen and he’ll fight back a groan, imagining coming home to you on all fours scrubbing the floors and him fucking you on it
or about how you went to the mall and picked up some new clothes, and maybe a new lacy set you’ll have to try on for him
and he’s so weak, so painfully horny for you that just hearing you say those words makes him grab the napkins from his tissue box and shoot his load into them
he holds the phone away from his face to catch his breath, swallowing hard as he tucks himself back into his trousers before he picks up the phone
“okay i have to get going, i need to finish up my work — luckily i’m almost done so it shouldn’t be long until i’m home dear. thank you for letting me call you. i love you, see you soon.”
he’ll discard the used napkins into his trashcan and pump a few squirts of hand sanitizer from his desk and into his palms, sighing as he looks over his papers before continuing on with his work
"put your tiny hand in mine, i'd love to be your preacher, teacher, be your daddy, anything you have in mind."
aot boys as the older, inappropriate men in your life. ᯓ♡
part two
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵
CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUTTY, dubcon, power imbalance, hefty age gaps, psuedo-cest (stepdad), daddy kink, spanking, fingering, oral f!receiving, heavy petting, dry humping, unprotected sex, breeding kink, mentions of creampies, inappropriate use of cakes (?), car sex, semi public sex, tipsy sex, blowjobs, slight exhibitionism if you squint real hard
TRIGGER WARNINGS : def some abuse of power/power imbalance, just about all of these scenarios could be interpreted as dubcon, reader has an unstable home life in multiple of these scenarios and also lowkey has some mommy issues sprinkled in </3
includes : eren, armin, jean, reiner, connie, levi, and erwin
word count : 6k (i'm so sorry)
what's playing ♬: father figure by george michael
a/n : i went a lil crazy here and rambled…hehe my bad... i really hope you guys enjoy!
eren ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎
eren is a classic stepdad perv
but that wasn’t his intention to begin with, it just kinda happened
you were already 20 when he met your mom, off doing whatever it is that college girls do
so he didn’t even get to meet you until a few years in — when the wedding planning became serious
from the way your mother described you, he was expecting a rude brat
but instead, there you were, this sweet, shy girl who offered a clammy palm for him to shake
and then eren started to see it
the way your mom picked fights with you
the way she was just so cold to you
it started to make them fight in return
constant arguments over her treatment towards you made them start to push the wedding date further and further away
but eren couldn’t leave, not while knowing he had a sweet thing like you who needed him
he’d come to your room after dinner, and hold your hand while you vented and complained
he tried really hard to be a proper father figure to you, no funny business whatsoever
but his resolve was only so strong for so long
at first you were like a skittish puppy, kicked around too many times to accept kindness without being wary of it
but eren was consistent, you could trust him
so you did
you started letting yourself be comfortable around him, started wearing your skimpy pajama sets around him instead of the big ol’ t-shirts and sweatpants you usually had on around the house
it drove him up the fucking wall, watching you saunter down the stairs in those ridiculously tiny shorts and that goddamn tank top that barely held your tits back
and then it happened
he found his golden ticket that would take him straight to hell
he had just finished doing the laundry and was padding into your bedroom to put away your clothes he washed for you
(he definitely did it out of the kindness of his heart and not because he wanted to sniff your used panties)
and he saw it, your diary laying haphazardly on your bed
you were at a friend’s house, you wouldn’t be back until later that night, giving him some time to read a few pages
he knew he was fucked up for this, but he was also fucked up for wanting to fuck his soon to be stepdaughter, so what was one more shitty thing?
he flipped through a couple pages, his heart hurting upon reading about the treatment from your mother
but as he flicked through the pages of around the time you two met, he noticed himself become a recurring topic
at first it was innocent, “mom is introducing me to her fiancé i think his name is eren? i hope he’s nice.”
and then “he’s a very kind man! and handsome too, i like him so far!”
“today eren picked me up from work and took me for ice cream, he’s the best. he makes me really nervous, i don’t know why though.”
“eren is the only person i can trust in this house, tonight he came to my room and held me while i cried about mom. but…part of me hoped that he’d pull me into his lap and hold me that way while i cried, but that feels kind of inappropriate…”
“i had a wet dream about eren. i feel so dirty. i’m trying to tell myself it was just a dream, it means nothing – it has to mean nothing. he’ll be my stepdad soon. i’m going to try and forget about it.”
“eren is the only thing that comes to mind when i touch myself, nothing else turns me on anymore, i’m so screwed.”
and then, the latest entry, “tonight i’m meeting up with a boy, i really hope he distracts me from these feelings i have for eren, wish me luck.”
fuck. no.
eren grabbed his phone and checked your location, immediately rushing downstairs to snatch his keys off the hook and jump in his car
he hauled ass getting to you, he pounded on the door relentlessly, until a boy your age answered the door
he pushed past him and demanded you come out
you were shocked to see eren, but he was nothing short of angry
he pulled you by the wrist and dragged you to the car, ignoring that stupid boy calling after you
the car ride was silent, he ignored your attempts at explaining yourself, and all your tearful apologies for lying
you were bent over his lap as soon as you entered your bedroom, your poor ass swatted raw as you sobbed, your legs kicking from the pain
he struck your ass for so long you couldn’t keep up with counting anymore
“what happened to my good girl, huh? where’d she go?” he gritted out, craning his neck down to your beautifully blubbering face
“m’right here,” you hiccupped, body jerking as he slapped the fat of your ass with pure aggression
“really? b’cause i don’t see her. hopefully i will soon.” he said sternly, pressing his palm firmly up against your cunt
you gasped, your body tensing upon the contact
“e-eren..?”
“shut up,” he snapped, grabbing your diary and tossing it on the floor in front of you
“if you need me to take care of you,” he pushed the flimsy crotch of your shorts and panties to the side, dragging up and down your soaked folds, “you fucking ask me, not some little boy.”
he fucked you with his long, thick fingers, curling right up against that sweet little spongy spot inside you, pressing his knee right to your clit
he muffled your moans with his huge palm while he fingered you over his lap
and then when he became impatient, he had you face down ass up in your soft frilly bed, his fat cock abusing your poor cunt
you sucked him in and gripped him like you never wanted to let him go, leaving a milky ring of your arousal around the base of his cock
his hand was wrapped around your throat while he mounted you, grunting above you while he impaled you ruthlessly
“s’this what you wanted – what you needed?” he hissed, shuddering a moan at the tail end of his words, the sound of your wet cunt creaming around him making him twitch inside you
“y-yes ‘ren, thank you,” you sobbed, your response near incoherent with your cheek smushed into the pillow, your brain turning to goop as he bullied his thick length into you, stretching you out in ways you never had been before
“this is my fuckin’ pussy now, you hear me? you only need my cock. repeat it.”
“i-i only need your cock,” you cried, your body thrusted into the bed by the slamming of eren’s hips behind you
“that’s right honey, now be good and let daddy cum in you.”
armin ᡣ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶𐭩 ♡
mr. arlert is your sweet, reliable next door neighbor!
he’s so wonderful, he always lets you come over and use his pool during the summertime
he covers for you when you sneak out, even lets you borrow his car every now and then too
he’s been the one you run to instead of your parents whenever a stupid boy has the audacity to break your heart
he’s there for you more often than your own parents
some people think its weird, how close you are with him, but he always reassures you that people just aren’t used to witnessing genuine kindness
so you thought he’d be a safe person to vent to during one of your sleepovers, about how none of your ex boyfriends just never made you feel a specific type of way
“i-i dunno…maybe its weird to even talk about this, i’m sorry,” you trailed off, hugging one of his pillows close to your chest
he shook his head, reaching out and gently squeezing your forearm
“its never weird, not with me,” he reassured you
so you told him
“i just…never really got turned on with my exes y’know? we’d do some stuff but i could never get into it and they’d always blame me. call me a stupid prude n’ stuff…”
he got angry at that, those stupid little boys just didn’t know how to treat you the way you deserved, but he did.
“sounds to me they’re immature boys, who didn’t take the time to really understand you or be patient with you. that isn’t your fault sweetheart.”
“but i don’t even know what i like, maybe there is something wrong with me…”
armin’s cock began to stir as his mind went rampant with all the ways he could make you cum…
fuck, this topic was getting dangerous
“no, don’t say that, don’t ever say that about yourself,” he pushed the pillow out of your arms, resting on his knees closer to you now, the bed dipping under his weight when he nears you
he cups your cheeks, peering down at you with a tempting contemplation
“do you want…me to help you?”
and that’s how you ended up with him up against his bedframe and your back safely tucked into his chest, his legs locking yours open while he rubbed your clit
“does that feel good, sweetie?” he asked softly in your ear, his lips grazing your jaw
you just moaned, your head lulling back against his collarbones while he rubbed firm tight circles over your clit
when he didn’t hear you respond, he patted your clit sternly, grabbing your attention
“answer me. so i know you feel good.”
“i-it feels so good, mr. arlert,” you keened, panting heavily
“you’re so wet sweetie, did you ever get this way with those other boys?” he hummed in your ear, his free hand coming up to gently grope at your breast, his cock aching when he felt your lack of a bra
“n-no, never,” you breathed out, shaking your head
he chuckled, the sound rumbling softly behind your back
“figures.” he breathed out, feeling cocky at your answer
“do you want to feel my fingers inside now, sweetie?”
“please!”
he slid in his middle and ring finger, gripping your hip to keep you from squirming
he pumped you nice and slow, resting his chin on your shoulder to watch himself fuck you on his fingers
“f-feels so much better when you do it mr. arlert,” you whimpered as you turned your head to the side, your nose brushing against his cheek
“that’s what i like to hear, now watch me while i touch you sweetheart so you know how to do it yourself.”
he made you cum twice with his fingers alone, taking advantage of how pliable and limp you were in his arms, and how easy it was to pull orgasms out of you
poor thing, you had been so pent up until you had mr. arlert take care of you
and then he had you sit on his face, urging you to figure out what you like by riding his face
he made you cum so hard like that
one hand traveled up, squeezing your breast under your shirt while the other snuck down beneath his boxers and began palming himself
you bucked your hips over him, grinding your clit against his wet and eager tongue
he lapped your pussy up, moaning into your flesh while he devoured you, ruining you for anyone else who dared tried their luck with you after this
when you had enough, he let you sink back into bed as he held you close, wrapping his arms around your trembling body
he pressed his hips flush against your ass, his lips trailing over your shoulder
“do you wanna learn one more thing, sweetheart?”
jean (๑•́ ᎔ ก̀๑)
you love jean!
he’s your dad’s best friend, and basically your’s too, you always say
he’s so sweet on you, spoiling you rotten despite your parents protesting
he’s always got your back, no matter what
jean isn’t stupid, he knows you’ve got a little crush on him
he thinks it’s real cute, the way you hide behind your occasional teasing and ribbing
but overall, you’re very obedient towards him, and deep down he knows your eagerness to obey stems from this little infatuation you’ve got with him
at first his natural response was hell no, you were only 18 when he first caught on
of course he always thought you were beautiful but you’ve always just been a baby compared to him
not to mention you’re his best buddy from highschool’s kid, naturally you’d be off limits even if you were in your forties
but goddamn you really started filling out more in your 20s
you got a little bolder too
you often took advantage of your height difference with jean, always managing to wear something low cut and revealing when you knew he’d be around, well aware that he’d be granted a perfect view of your perfect tits
and then one night at an ungodly hour, you called jean
“mr. kirstein?” you sniffled and his back went straight in his office chair, his hand squeezing his phone with angst
he responded with your name, his voice riddled with worry
“i’m so sorry but can you pick me up? i’m a party and i don’t… i don’t really wanna be here anymore…”
“send me the address i’m on my way.”
jean probably ran almost every red light that there was to get to you
once he picked you up it was a battle of self control to not stare at you in his passenger seat
the way your stupidly tiny and tight dress bunched around your thick thighs, and how you tried to shyly tug it back down but to no avail
“wanna tell me what happened.” he spoke, glancing over at you
“it’s embarrassing…” you trailed off quietly, picking at your cuticles as your hands rested in your lap
“try me.”
you stayed silent for a long passing beat, staring at your lap for what felt like forever, like you were weighing your options before you sighed, deciding to say fuck it and just be honest
“i… i was playing beer pong. the loser had to do whatever the winner wanted them to do. i lost. and the guy i lost to told me to meet him upstairs..”
“uh huh.” he was gripping the steering wheel hard, pretending it was the throat of whatever idiot you were playing against, his teeth nearly cracking from how hard he was clenching his jaw
“long story short, we started making out and doing stuff… i couldn’t really get into it y’know? so i started to imagine someone else and…um… i-i said your name.”
the car nearly jerked to a stop, his body frozen with a thin layer of cold sweat infecting every inch of his skin at your revelation
“can you say something?” you mumbled, burning humiliation swallowing you whole amidst the heavy silence
“so let me just uh…get this straight, are you saying that in order to get turned on you had to imagine me?”
“…yes.”
he exhaled, clenching his jaw as he immediately went to pull over, unbuckling himself from the seat belt and turning to face you head on
“i need you to tell me right fucking now that you don’t want me. tell me i’m too old for you and you’re disgusted at the thought of me touching you.”
you gaped at him, slowly shaking your head once his words fully resonated in your head
“i can’t.”
“please…” he begged, needing you to reject him before he did something he couldn’t undo
“mr. kirstein,” you unbuckled yourself, leaning across the center console, your hand shakily landing on his knee
“please kiss me.”
and he did.
he grabbed you by your jaw and kissed you hard, groaning in your mouth as his free hand traveled down the nape of your neck, down the curve of your back and around the fat of your ass, gripping it hard
he pulled you into his lap, moaning in your mouth when you settled comfortably on top of him.
he extended his seat backwards, giving you more room as he guided your grinding hips, letting you rut against his fat bulge straining his slacks
his hands fell to your thighs, squeezing you and letting himself fully indulge in you
his fingers soon found your cunt, rubbing you over your panties
you were so fucking wet just from a little kissing
you took his hand and guided it beneath your panties, whimpering against his lips, pleading with him to touch you
he tilted his chin down, staring at his hand tenting into your panties, the sound of your wet cunt clicking from how fucking soaked you were filling his ears
he sunk his fingers into you, groaning when you bucked your hips against them, rocking over his long digits
when you couldn’t take it anymore, and when he couldn’t take it anymore, you found yourself in his backseat, bouncing stupidly on his fat cock, pretty breasts getting bruises sucked into them by his warm mouth
“f-fuck, my sweet girl, my sweet sweet girl,” he groaned mindlessly into your chest, kissing you over your heart
“pussy is so fuckin’ perfect, jus’ listen,”
and he curled his palm over your mouth, silencing your loud moans to make you hear your own cunt getting fucked raw
“gonna cum in you, gonna make you crawl into your cute lil’ bed tonight full of my cum baby — now beg me for it.”
reiner ₍ᐢ › ̫ ‹ ᐢ₎
mr. braun is your best friend’s dad
but he insists on you just calling him reiner, he’s a cool dad after all
he’s a divorcee, or well, about to be
his bitch of an ex wife must be clinically insane to have cheated on a fine specimen like him
you would’ve never done that to him
you swear you’d be so good to him, and sometimes you wonder if he thinks the same
he can’t, he shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, you’re his daughter’s best friend
he could easily be your father
but he’s not, and you try really hard to remind him of that but he can’t seem to catch a hint
that oblivious old man.
he thinks you’re such a good girl, completely unsuspecting of the desires you harbor for him
you’re so sweet, you come by to check up on an old man like him even when your friend isn’t home
what 20 something year old does something so kind!
(the one that wants her bff’s dad to fuck her stupid)
you were taking a culinary course at your university, and reiner had been reaping the benefits of it
you made it a habit to come by and drop off your latest confectionaries, nearly pavlov’ing reiner into getting hungry whenever you’re around
much to your fortune heh
and then on one sunny afternoon, you swung by, pretty sundress hugging your body, little kitten heels adorning your pedicured feet, with a strawberry cake frosted with chocolate whipped buttercream in hand
reiner nearly dropped to his knees at the sight, wondering how on earth he got so lucky
you sat on the kitchen island, legs dangling casually while he stood beside you, cutting a slice for himself onto a plate, moaning with delight at the taste
“goddamn, honey you’ve got a real knack for this y’know that?”
“you flatter me, mr. braun,”
“mm-no,” he shook his head, chewing down his bite, “call me reiner, mr. braun makes me feel old.”
you smiled, shrugging while leaning forward, gently swiping away the frosting in the corner of his lips
“who said being a little older was such a bad thing?”
his breathing stuttered in his throat along with his heart in his chest, his eyes widening as he laughed nervously
he stepped back, turning away so you couldn’t see the way he got incredibly flushed at that, reaching into his fridge to grab a water
“you’re too sweet, honey.”
when he turned back around, you were staring at him in a way that would make better men than him weak.
despite better judgment, he still walked back towards you
“reiner,” you said softly, alluringly, with a slight tilt of your head
you leaned upwards, attempting to latch your lips to his
he almost met you with his own, groaning begrudgingly before pulling away, shaking his head
you frowned, nearly pouting as you hopped off the counter, cornering him against the fridge
“don’t you think im pretty?” you asked quietly, eyebrows drawn with an insecure concern
he softened, his hands coming up to gently squeeze your arms, nodding in earnest
“oh of course i do, but it isn’t about that i just—“
“then why won’t you kiss me?”
oh fuck it
his ex wife had made him feel so unattractive and undesirable, despite the fact that he frequently attended the gym and made efforts in maintaining his physique
but you? you made him feel recognized in all his efforts, even the ones beyond his physicality
so maybe indulging in his daughter’s best friend was something he could treat himself to, just this once
he hauled you up in his big strong arms, hoisting you back onto the counter, standing between your thighs
he kissed you hard, and you moaned desperately, hooking your fingers in his belt loops and pulling him in closer to you
he pushed you back onto the counter, acting with reckless abandon, tugging the sweetheart neckline of your dress, reaching over and swiping the frosting from off the cake you brought and smearing it across your tits
he bent down and mouthed all over your chest, making a complete sweet mess of you
you tugged at his hair while he licked you up, whimpering as you felt him rock his hips against you
he was so impatient, he couldn’t hold back from hiking your dress up and pushing your panties to the side
he fished himself from out his trousers and boxers, slapping his fat cock over your tummy
you gasped at the sight, your mouth going dry as you realized taking him might be a bigger feat than you expected
“look at what you do to me, honey..” he groaned, grabbing himself by the base of his cock, dragging himself up and down your pussy, collecting your arousal over his fat tip
he swirled over your clit a few times, swallowing hard at the way you whimpered his name every time he did it
he caught you off guard and pushed in, shivering at your tightness
he slid in so easily, you were so fucking soaked
he fucked you with everything he had, releasing all the pent up desire he’d been keeping to himself, into you
he buried his face in your chest, licking and nipping and sucking at your skin while he pounded away into you
you trapped him inside you, locking your legs around his hips while he held you firmly, holding you tight so you didn’t fall off the counter from how hard he thrusted into you
“goddamn,” he grunted into your skin, kissing his way back up to your mouth
“feeling good honey?” he’d utter against your lips, feeling his heart race with satisfaction when you’d whimper and nod, dazed over his cock
poor reiner hasn’t gotten laid in he didn't even know how long, and ended up cumming earlier than he would’ve liked
he was so embarrassed, sliding out of your sopping cunt, apologizing repeatedly
you truly didn’t mind, even though you hadn’t cum yet, reassuring him gently that it was fine
but he couldn’t have that
he swiped a chunk of cake once more, lowering himself between your thighs and smearing the dessert over your leaking cunt, dripping from his cum
“lemme just clean you up, honey.”
connie ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡
mr. springer — or connie, is your dad’s business associate
your dad wanted to keep a close eye on you right out of college, wanting to make sure you didn’t stray off and lose yourself in a dead end job
so what better way to keep track of you and not let you embarrass him or your family name than by scoring you a job at his firm!
it’s so boring and draining sometimes you wonder if it really is sucking the life out of you
but then you met connie
he was such a nice rift in the mundanity at your job
he’d hang around your desk, bring you coffee and sneak you snacks from the exec’s rec room, knowing that theirs was far better than what the sad little break room that the lower entry workers had
he always tried to convince your dad to lighten up on you, and despite his efforts usually ending in vain, it still meant a lot to you knowing you had someone in your corner
he’d even take you home after work sometimes, or pick you up, iced coffee in tow of course to make the morning more tolerable
he was the best!
especially when you had to attend the god awful company christmas party
a bunch of old boring farts discussing their boring lives at a boring party no one wanted to be at
you were getting your head chattered off by a random old man who worked below your father, rambling on about things that you couldn’t care less to hear about
and as always, connie swooped in and saved you, politely tugging you along under the polite guise of “sorry, her dad’s lookin’ for her.”
he tucked you away into the safety of his spacious office, pressing the button under his desk to draw the curtains across his glass doors.
“you’re a life saver.”
“nah. i just don’t like seeing you suffer.”
you weren’t sure if it was the couple of drinks you managed to sneak from the open bar or if it was the way he was looking at you that made you so bold, but you sat at the corner of his desk beside him, peering down at him in his chair
“why’re you so nice to me connie?”
“does there have to be a reason?” he asked, resting his chin against his knuckles
you shrugged, shaking your head. “no. but… i’d like there to be.”
“you’d like there to be?” he repeated slowly, letting the weight of your words ring in the air, trying to give you an opportunity to wave off the thickness in the air and blame the couple of drinks in your system for the way you ‘mispoke’
“yeah.” you confirmed and goddamnit, you swatted away his offer and in return half of his restraint
he said your name warningly, but you slid off his desk and into his lap, straddling him
you rubbed your clothed clit over his dress pants, hiking your modest dress in a not so modest way, whimpering into his neck
he gripped your hips, unable to stop himself from rolling up to meet your ministrations
“you’re such a fucking tease,” he uttered in your ear, groaning lowly as he groped your ass, squeezing you hard
you giggled, kissing at his jawline
“i’d only be a tease if i wasn’t willing to give you more,” you murmured in his ear, tilting your face until your lips brushed against each other’s
he eliminated the space between you two and kissed you hard
you could taste the champagne on his tongue and grapes from the charcuterie board, moaning as you ground your hips against his, snaking your hand between your bodies to palm his cock over his pants
before you knew it, you were bent over his desk, his papers and office supplies scattered across the floor as he fucked you
his body hunched over yours, his thick cock filling your cunt so good as he pivoted in and out of you, your slickness starting to stain the crotch of his pants
“should make you my secretary, ‘could fuck you like this anytime i wanted,” he grunted in your ear, pulling a deep whimpery moan from the depths of your chest, burying his cock deeper into you for emphasis
you grinded your clit against the edge of his desk while he slammed his hips against your ass, staining the table with your arousal
“fu-fuck, you’re so deep,” you cried out, covering your mouth with your palm
he grabbed your arm and pinned it behind your back, using it as leverage to fuck into you harder
“nah i wanna fuckin’ hear you, go ahead, make some noise, make the party for everyone a little more interesting you slut.”
levi ૮₍ꐦ -᷅ ⤙ -᷄ ₎ა
professor ackerman…😵💫😵💫
captain hardass of the ss hardass.
he still does that shit that your elementary school teachers did where he makes everyone pick up one piece of trash in the class before they can leave
he’s extremely particular about the way his class functions, and isn’t afraid to straighten anyone out if he sees it fit
he honestly scared the shit out of you for like a solid three months
however you were actually one of his favorite students, but you’d never know that because his face hardly ever cracks out of the same stare he gives everyone and his voice rarely straying away from anything but monotone
but he saw how hard you tried, how you put effort into participating and asking questions
he saw lot of potential in you
and when he started to notice your work get turned in later and later and the overall decline in quality, he had you stay after class one day
he dropped your essay onto the desk before you, crossing his arms
“what’s going on?”
you couldn’t get yourself to divulge much, too embarrassed to tell him about your home life and how hard it was for you to stay on top of your schoolwork
“listen,” he exhaled, leaning down towards you, his index finger pressed to your paper
“i know you. i know you’re better than this. and i don’t just mean with your assignments. you’re bright, don’t let yourself fizzle out before you can even reach your peak.”
his words lit a spark back into your heart, worsening the embarrassing crush you already had on him
“thank you sir…”
“don’t thank me, i am somewhat responsible for the decline in your work as well. i obviously need to improve as your professor to help you succeed. it isn’t just on you or whatever outside outliers there may be. from now on we’ll have some one on one sessions after class.” he didn’t ask, he stated.
oh dear god.
you had no idea how you were going to focus studying one on one with him, you already had trouble focusing when you weren’t floundering under the weight and pressure from your parents and other classes, but now you’ll be alone with him??
“y-you really don’t have to—“
he said your name, stern like the sound of a ruler snapping
“if you want to pass this class i’d suggest you relinquish whatever humility and bashfulness you have and just accept the help.”
and so over the course of two months you stayed back after class whenever you had professor ackerman, and your grades began to improve because of it
you had expected him to cease your meetings but he kept speaking as if the routine were meant to be ongoing, never offering an end date to your sessions
he’d began bringing you tea as well, nodding towards it silently before going over the coursework
he was surprisingly patient, never once getting frustrated with you when you struggled to grasp a concept
he quite enjoyed having you to himself like this, which was dangerous, he knew that
he caught himself feeling a twinge of anticipation on the days when he knew he’d see you, and knew he should probably cease the unnecessary contact
your grades were already improving, you didn’t need the extra help
but what if you were to stray off course again?
he had to make sure you remained focused… yeah… that was the reason
but it seemed maybe you were beginning to lose that focus all over again
he caught you loitering outside his class before you were due to meet with him, talking to some fucking boy
you were giggling like an idiot at something he presumed wasn’t even funny to begin with
he said your name, his voice hitting you like a gong, your gaze and attention abandoning the guy you were talking to
his eyes flickered from you to inside his class, wordlessly motioning for you to enter
so you left the guy with a quiet “see you later…” trailing behind levi like a puppy with her tail between her legs.
he shut the door behind you and walked over to his desk with you behind him
“so i see you’re beginning to shift priorities.”
“n-no it’s not that sir, he’s in my other class we were just talking about our assignment,”
“didn’t know assignments could bring about such laughter.”
“i-i don’t think this is really fair..” you mumbled, a slight huff in your voice
his stare had hardened and he leaned forward, catching your eyes once more
“what isn’t fair is you absorbing all of my conference periods so that i can ensure you pass my course. i don’t have to offer extra assistance to you if you’re not going to make proper use of it.”
you felt too much like a scolded child, so you rose from your seat and began making your way to the door again
“fine. then don’t. thanks for your time, sir.”
he slammed the door shut as soon as you opened it, his big palm beside your head
you could feel the heat radiating off of him and scorching you through your clothes
when you turned around he stared at you, his eyes scanning every single part of you that there was, knowing he was possibly jeopardizing his career and standing at the university, his reputation, everything
but he couldn’t help himself, he pressed his lips to yours and kissed you, relief flooding him when you matched his intensity and kissed him back, wrapping your arms around him
you stumbled back over near his desk, and he pushed you up against his whiteboard, pulling you by your hips and pressing you against him, letting you feel how much he’s needed you
“you have infuriated me,” he kissed you hard, breathing against your lips when he barely pulls away
“everyday that i’ve seen you. you make everything so difficult,” he groaned, pushing his bulge up against your clothed cunt
“i’m sorry,” you breathed out tearfully, and he scoffed, kissing down your neck
“you should be.”
and uncharacteristically, without an ounce of the usual reserve he typically has, he freed himself from his dress pants and pulled your jeans down enough to allow him access to fuck you up against his whiteboard
“god,” he choked out when he slid into your soaking, tight warmth
“this stays between us, understand?” he grunted in your ear, silencing you with his palm over your mouth, sending a hard thrust deep inside you
you nodded, whimpering behind his hand as he took you
“i’ve thought about this so much,” he admitted shakily, panting in your neck, kissing along the exposed skin of your chest while he fucked you, his heavy cock stretching your cunt out
“you make me feel filthy,” he groaned against you, stilling and letting you feel his fat cockhead deep inside you
“it’s only fair i do the same to you.”
he sent you on your way to your next lecture with a fat load of his cum inside you <3
erwin ( •̀∀•́ )✧
mr. smith is the worlds best boss ever!
he even lets you call him erwin but only when you two are alone
you’re his personal assistant, and you’re well liked amongst your department but simultaneously envied
erwin is kinda soft on you, it’s hard to try and dispute that
none of his assistants lasted longer than 5 months but you? you’re steady on the track of being with him for a year !
yay you !!
initially he wasn’t quite sure what it was about you that drew him to you
maybe because you were just so… earnest?
so honest and sweet without it being fake or overbearing
he could tell you really wanted to make his life easier, and that what drove you was the fact that you made him out to be a better man in your mind than what he truly was
but that’s okay, he can lean into that for you
and after he managed to slowly but surely collect information on your personal life, he realized where your obedience came from
poor baby just wants an older man to be proud of her
oh and he is, you make him so proud every day!
you listen sooo well
like when he told you the new dress code was pencil skirts and black pantyhose, you didn’t question it, even when you noticed most of the women in the office didn’t seem to abide by it
but it’s okay you just figured you were still doing the right thing
or like when he has you come in and massage his shoulders and rub his temples for him between the intervals of his online meetings with foreign investors, you just figured it was another facet of the job!
or when he would sit you down, and rub your shoulders
and slowly sink to his knees and gently remove your heels, neatly setting them to the side before he’d rest your ankle against his meaty thigh and rub your feet for you
he’s just being a good boss and showing his appreciation to his assistant is all!
“you work so hard for me, dear i assure you, this is the least i could do.”
and when he rises back up to his full stature, standing beside you, not bothering to hide the way he was straining against his trousers, you didn’t mind, you just shyly looked away, offering him silent grace of pretending you didn’t notice it
but he wanted you to
he’d croon your name softly, dragging your gaze back up to him
and when he leaned in to kiss you, you accepted happily, leaning up in his chair to kiss him eagerly
he pulled you out of his chair and gently pushed you to your knees, cradling your jaw adoringly
“need you to do one more thing for me, dear.”
your hands were grappled around his hips, pretty eyes running with tears as you took his cock down your throat, moaning around his thick length
he was bigger than any of the guys you had been with previously, and he knew that without you saying a word
it filled him with deep pride knowing no one else had hit the back of your throat like he had, completely untouched except from him
his deep groans uttered into the thick air and wafted around you, urging you to keep up with making him feel good despite the stinging in your jaw and the uncomfortable prickles of pain in your knees
he thrusted shallowly into your mouth, shuddering a low breath as he watched you take him to the best of your abilities
his heart soared at the sight of you so beautifully impassioned to suck his cock and make him cum, like it was your sole purpose and duty
“you’re so lovely dear, even like this…so eager to please, expect a raise soon,”. he’d groan thickly, getting lost in a cloud of pleasure, trying his hardest to even his tone
you hummed around his cock, and he nearly fell forward, leaning deeper into you with one palm flat against his desk, the other behind your head
and when you came out of his office, stumbling and limping slightly with a hoarse throat, shyly wiping the corners of your mouth, no one really batted an eye
they just knew erwin was simply indulging in his sweet little assistant and that it wouldn’t be the last time
a/n: spent way too long writing this bc i love reiner
words: 9.3k
cw: lowkey bff!jean, she/her pronouns and fem anatomy reader, soldier!reader, pre-timeskip friends/lovers, betrayal, forgiveness, reiner is pathetic, angsty, kinda serving friends to enemies to lovers, SMUT!!, oral (f!reader recieving), pinv sex, breeding, MDNI !!
˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡
Reiner was taller now, even if it was hard to believe. Maybe not as tall as Bertholdt was, but taller. Not only that, but while he maintained some of the more prominent muscles in his figure, it was noticeable how much weight he had lost. His hair was slightly longer - maybe he didn't keep up with cutting it as much as before. But to be fair, the change wasn't necessarily drastic. Not like the amount of facial hair he let grow out, which was completely ridiculous but so on brand for him.
But what did you care?
Your gaze lingered on him a moment longer, practically having to force yourself to look away from the man you swore was dead to you. But he wasn't, was he? He was standing right there, talking to Connie and Jean like nothing happened. As if the night prior Jean didn't literally punch him. Did they all just forgive him suddenly? Traitors.
You sighed. Maybe you were being dramatic.
The only thing you wanted to hear now was the sound of the water swishing beneath the boat, maybe even a seagull. But it was like you couldn't drown out his voice. It hadn't changed. It was exactly as you'd remembered it being about four years ago. Though, back then you swore you'd found it charming.
Odiha. That's where you were going, what you were focusing on, in order to service the flying boat that would help you and your fellow scouts reach the Rumbling, you needed to reach Odiha. To stop Eren. So why was Reiner's presence bothering you so much?
Reiner was your best friend at one point. When you first joined the cadet corps, it was obvious you were nervous to anyone who took a second to look. And for that, most people didn't see you as a potential reliable comrade.
Most people.
Reiner liked you. He had once playfully claimed you made funny faces during sparring exercises and took you under his wing, seeing your potential. Back then, Reiner had a talent for making anyone feel seen. Even stubborn cadets like Annie seemed to at least tolerate him, maybe even respect him.
So how could you not fall in love with him?
It was ridiculous how quick it happened. You were sure there were other girls vying for his attention just like you were, but you swore Reiner gave you special treatment. It was stupid.
Reiner would see you entering the mess hall and instantly make sure there was a spot open at his table for you. Bertholdt had typically sat across from him, but most of the time there was a spot directly next to Reiner conveniently available just for you. He'd call you by your last name over to their table, always a smile on his face, always so damn sure of himself.
"Bread?" He had offered, causing you to shake your head with a nervous smile on your face. Nervous. Not nervous enough, apparently. But that didn't matter—not when Reiner was offering you bread, or to train after hours with you, or take you into Stohess one weekend when you mentioned wanting a change of scenery.
"I know you wanted that muffin," Reiner said regretfully as you walked away from the bakery stall at the food market. "Sorry I couldn't get it for you."
You shook your head, mouth full from the cookie he'd already got for you just ten minutes prior. "It's fine, really," you assured him, words slightly muffled from the pastry.
Reiner simply smiled at you, taking a bite of his own cookie.
When you returned to Trost that evening as the sun was just beginning to set, the teasing from your comrades was relentless.
"Woah!" Connie had exclaimed, realization dawning on his face as he looked at you and Reiner entering the mess hall together. "Where've you been all day?" He asked, nosy as ever even if the answer was plain as day.
"A date. Is that really such a foreign concept to you?" Reiner had teased, making Connie grin mischievously.
A date. You had your suspicions that that's what it was, but Reiner hadn't explicitly said it. Not until Connie asked. The straightforward explanation made your heart race, gaze dropping instantly to your shoes as Connie's laughter filled the space.
"So that's why you've been polishing your boots and actually combing your hair. I was wondering what the special occasion was," Jean had said to you, his brow raised and arms crossed in a way that was so distinctly Jean. Despite the words, you were sure it was his own way of approving.
"Oh, my God, is that a hickey?" Sasha suddenly butt in, moving into your personal space. Her hands held your head in place as she stared at the scrape from training on your forehead.
"Hickey—what—Sasha, that's on my forehead!" You had defended, but it was too late. Multiple other cadets heard the word hickey and ran with it, causing a flurry of gossip surrounding you and Reiner. And Reiner didn't deny it. He just smiled at you, and somehow that made you feel better.
There were plenty of times he'd made you feel better. An embarrassing amount of times. A pathetic amount of times, considering what he might've been comforting you about.
You sniffled, attempting to straighten yourself out before dinner was served in the mess hall as you sat on a log on the outskirts of the training grounds, taking in the yellow and orange blend of sunset before you. Even with the view, your mind was elsewhere.
It hit you every now and then at random. Despite it happening almost five years ago, you had pushed the grief down as far as you could bury it when your family was killed during the breach of Wall Maria. You were so young when it happened, but suddenly you were alone. When the Armored had broken through the inner gate of the wall, your childhood home had been crushed by a stray boulder.
You were lucky. You came to terms with that at a young age. Far too lucky. It chipped away at you everyday since, even without you realizing. What made you so fortunate to have escaped? Avoided certain death like your family couldn't? What made that soldier step in and save you but not them?
The wondering was pointless, though. They died and you didn't. For some reason fate had kept you alive until now. And for that, you had to live with a purpose. Even if now that purpose was wiping your snotty nose and trying to compose yourself enough to go eat with your friends.
"Bread?"
You had looked up to see none other than Reiner holding out a small loaf, a second one for himself in his right hand. Hesitantly, you had taken it, using the moment Reiner sat down beside you to attempt to discreetly wipe at the tears on your cheeks.
He didn't ask. You supposed it wasn't his style, or maybe he just assumed you didn't want to talk about it.
Reiner simply took a bite of his bread next to you, leaning forward as he chewed. After moments of silence, Reiner looked at you for a second and then towards the sunset. The corner of his mouth tugged upwards into a soft, almost wistful smile, but he said nothing.
"What?" You finally asked.
He almost replied with "nothing," you could tell, but he sighed and leaned back, either hands at his sides resting on the log. "You know what I miss most about home?" Reiner asked, his gaze locked with the sky. "The way the sun would rise over the hills," he stated.
You realized you'd never talked about it—why you were crying that day. To be honest, you didn't want to. Something about his presence had just put you at ease back then, to the point you forgot all of your troubles.
When graduation drew near, you weren't even sure what Reiner's plan was. Everyone knew his perfect scores got him into the top ten, eligible to enlist as a military police officer in the interior. That would've been great for him, but you weren't sure where that left you.
You weren't with Reiner when the Collosal titan had appeared and breached the wall into Trost. But you were there when Eren was discovered to be a titan himself.
From there, something in Reiner had shifted.
Back then, you figured it was realization of some sort. Realization that things were complicated, things were scary, things were real...
Things got even more real when Marco died. Marco wasn't someone you were close with, but he was always there, always kind. If someone as capable as Marco, as determined, as strong, as kind as Marco could die, what would that mean for you and your friends?
Many cadets dropped out that day, despite graduation being so close. You almost did as well. Especially upon seeing Jean's reaction to Marco's death, you didn't know if you had the guts to continue.
But Reiner always had to step in.
"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for," he said, his strong hand on your shoulder. "Look at me," he commanded softly. You hesitated but met his eyes. They were serious, and almost cold now. Different from how they used to look at you. "I know you've got what it takes."
And that was that. Along with Jean, who was sure he'd join the military police, you joined the Survey Corps, falling under the wing of the Commander Erwin Smith.
You were terrified, but you had Reiner.
Things in your lives seemed to come to a halt when Annie was revealed to be a titan. And then Ymir, along with Krista being some kind of royalty and living with a completely different name—Historia.
It was all confusing and overwhelming, and you really wished Reiner was there for you. And he was, physically, always there. But then he was distant. Even when sitting directly beside you during meals like he did before, his focus was obviously elsewhere.
And then it happened.
You revisited that day often. When Reiner and Bertholdt transformed, and everything you thought you knew came crashing down.
You couldn't even cry, or scream, or do much of anything. You'd learned a long time ago to accept these things, but God did it hurt.
Then he was gone. He and Bertholdt, back to wherever they came from—their "hometown" as they so often called it. You didn't know back then, and you'd honestly stopped caring.
When Eren was rescued from them, he tried telling you on the way back what Reiner had said in response to him screaming at them. Eren had brought you up, telling Reiner about all the pain and trauma you endured years ago when the inner gate of Wall Maria was broken and your family was killed.
Sorry. Sorry was what he said, according to Eren.
What a coward.
The next time you saw Reiner was a few months later. But it wasn't really him. It was the Armored titan, the same one you remember from childhood who had breached the wall. And now here you were, back in Shiganshina with your fellow scouts.
The bloodshed was monumental in Shiganshina. Bertholdt had died, but Reiner lived—barely. You weren't there when Hange and Jean had captured him. And you were grateful you weren't. Just three months after discovering his true self, you knew you'd do something stupid like let him go if you had been there. But that part wasn't really up to you, and he got away regardless.
That's when you discovered the truth of everything. The titans, the walls, Paradis, Eldians.
You wished you could hate him. But everyday you'd hoped for the day you could speak to him again, just once.
Those feelings seemed to have formed into anger as the years passed. And by the time you and your fellow soldiers raided Liberio, you basically lived in a shell. You promised your comrades you weren't going to allow feelings to get in the way, and you delivered.
So much happened in such a short amount of time it was difficult to even remember it properly.
You remembered seeing him—really him—for the first time again on Paradis. He was almost pathetic looking now, but a part of your heart still yearned for him.
Were the feelings even the same, though?
You and the rest of the scouts had to compromise and join forces with the Warriors in order to put a stop to Eren's plan to go through with the Rumbling. It was the first night that Jean brutally punched Reiner at the campfire. Years ago, you might've blindly taken the side of Reiner. Hell, if he said a word to you since being back on the island maybe you would've defended him. But he didn't. So you let it happen.
When the kids, Gabi and Falco, rushed to Reiner's side after the altercation, you felt as though you needed to physically drag yourself away to avoid saying anything to him.
Instead, you found Jean, cooling off in the outskirts of the woods. His head was in his hands, leaning against a tree as he shook.
You placed a gentle hand on his arm, causing him to jump. You made eye contact, but he was quick to look away. Though, your small touch grounded him.
"Sorry about that," Jean apologized. "I got carried away." His voice was breaking, you'd noticed, but you shook your head.
"Don't apologize," you replied.
You made a choice that evening. The choice to stay loyal to your comrades instead of blindly following Reiner like you did when you were a dumb kid. But it didn't make it any less difficult when he stood there on the boat looking almost like he had years ago.
The expression on his face was that of determination. And the people at his side were none other than Jean and Connie.
You scoffed, pulling your gaze away from the men and staring off into the vast ocean—the ocean you didn't even knew existed years ago; the ocean Reiner didn't bother mentioning to you those nights you sat together for hours.
You'd gone over every emotion the past four years. You saw his side as best you could. Even so, it was hard to forgive. Especially when Reiner himself hadn't made an effort to speak to you.
"Hey." You didn't look up, you knew it was Jean.
"You gonna talk to loverboy or what?" He asked after a beat of silence. You finally lifted your head to shoot him a glare. Jean simply smiled, looking back at where Reiner and Connie were still talking and then back to you, sitting beside you on the bench.
You remained quiet for a moment after Jean sat beside you, your fingers absently picking at a loose thread on your sleeve. The gentle rock of the boat beneath you seemed to match the churning in your stomach.
"I'm not talking to him," you finally said, keeping your voice low despite the distance between you and the others.
Jean snorted. "Right. Because ignoring him is working so well for you."
You shot him another glare. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You've been staring at him every chance you get since yesterday." Jean's knowing smile widened as your cheeks flushed with heat. "Don't worry, he's been doing the same thing."
Something fluttered in your chest at his words, but you quickly tamped it down. "Has he... said anything?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, your voice smaller than you intended.
Jean chuckled, that same knowing look in his eyes that made you want to shove him off the bench and into the sea. But then his expression softened.
"No," he admitted. "But it's getting annoying watching you two dance around each other like this. You look at him when he's not looking, he looks at you when you turn away. It's really embarassing for both of you."
You sighed, turning your gaze back to the endless blue horizon. The vastness of the ocean still amazed you, even now. "Well, if he wanted to talk, he would've said something by now."
"Maybe he's thinking the same thing about you," Jean pointed out.
"That's different," you protested weakly.
"How?"
You opened your mouth to respond but found you didn't have an answer that wouldn't sound childish. Jean was right, and you both knew it.
"Look," Jean said, his voice gentler now, "I'm not exactly Reiner's biggest fan. You were there when I..." He flexed his hand, the same one he'd used to punch Reiner the night before, his knuckles reddened now. "But we're all stuck here together now. And whatever was between you two—"
"There was nothing between us," you interrupted, the lie bitter on your tongue.
Jean gave you a flat look. "You're a terrible liar. Always have been."
You looked down at your hands, suddenly finding your fingernails fascinating. "It doesn't matter now anyway."
"Maybe not," Jean agreed. "But you're never going to stop wondering if you don't at least talk to him once. Really talk to him."
The silence between you stretched for several long moments as you considered his words. The rational part of you knew he was right. This tension, this unspoken thing hanging in the air between you and Reiner, it would only continue to distract you. And with what lay ahead—with Eren and the Rumbling—you couldn't afford distractions. And more importantly, you didn't want to die with regrets.
"Fine," you muttered, standing up with a resigned sigh.
Without waiting for some type of reaction from Jean, you turned and made your way across the deck toward where Reiner and Connie stood. Your heart hammered against your ribs with each step, and you briefly considered turning back. But Jean's words echoed in your mind—you would never stop wondering if you didn't at least try.
Connie noticed you first, his animated conversation with Reiner faltering as you approached. Reiner turned, and for a moment, you were transported back to those days in the mess hall—him turning to call your name, saving you a seat beside him.
But his eyes weren't the same. They carried a weight now, dark shadows beneath them speaking of sleepless nights and unshakable guilt.
"Um, I'll just..." Connie mumbled, already backing away, but you barely registered his departure.
You stopped a few feet from Reiner, suddenly unsure what to say. All the anger, all the hurt, all the things you'd rehearsed in your head over the years—none of it seemed right now that he was standing in front of you.
"Can we talk?" The words came out steadier than you felt.
Reiner looked surprised, as if that was the last thing he expected to hear from you. He nodded once, hesitantly. "Yeah. Of course."
You nodded, and without another word, turned to lead the way to the stairs. You could feel his presence behind you as you descended into the dimly lit interior of the ship, the wooden steps creaking beneath your weight. The air was cooler here, tinged with the scent of salt and damp wood.
The sleeping cabins were arranged in a narrow corridor, small compartments with barely enough room for the bunks they contained. Most were empty now, with everyone gathered on the upper deck to watch the endless expanse of ocean passing by. You chose one at random, pushing open the door and stepping inside.
The room was tight, with just enough space for two narrow bunks built into the walls and a small porthole that cast a circle of fading evening light across the wooden floor. You sat on one of the bunks, the thin mattress sinking beneath your weight. Reiner hesitated at the doorway for a moment before entering and sitting on the opposite bunk, the space between you barely more than an arm's length but feeling like an unbridgeable chasm.
Reiner's shoulders hunched slightly, his large frame somehow seeming smaller in the confined space. His eyes darted around the cabin before finally settling on his hands, which were clasped tightly in his lap.
You found yourself remembering another small space you'd shared once, years ago during a thunderstorm. The supply shed had been the closest shelter when the rain had caught you both during evening training. You'd sat side by side on crates of gear, listening to the rain hammer against the roof, shoulders touching as Reiner told stories about his hometown to distract you from the thunder. And you remembered how you felt when he held your hand, the way his touch was so gentle, his fingers lacing with yours. Back then, his voice had been warm, his smile easy, his eyes bright with something that made your heart race.
Now, he sat across from you, silent and tense, his gaze fixed on the floor between your feet. The only sound was the creaking of the ship around you and the distant, muffled voices from above.
The silence between you stretched until it became unbearable. Your fingers dug into the thin mattress beneath you, knuckles turning white with the pressure.
"My family is dead because of you," you finally said, your voice quiet but sharp enough to cut through the heavy air. The words hung there, raw and unavoidable. "Every time I look at you, I see that day. The Armored Titan breaking through the gate. The boulder that crushed our home."
Reiner didn't flinch, didn't look away. He just nodded slowly, his eyes hollow. "I know."
"You know?" A bitter laugh escaped your lips. "That's all you have to say? You know?"
"What do you want me to say?" His voice was flat, resigned. The voice of a man who had already condemned himself a thousand times over.
"I want you to say something—anything—other than 'I know,'" you snapped, the anger you'd been holding back finally beginning to surface. "I want you to explain how you could sit with me that day by the training grounds, offering me bread while I cried about my family, knowing it was you who killed them."
Reiner's gaze dropped to the floor again. "I don't have an explanation that would make any sense to you."
"Try me," you challenged, leaning forward. "I've had four years to think about this, Reiner. Four years to try to understand."
He looked up then, and the defeated emptiness in his eyes almost made you recoil. This wasn't the Reiner you remembered—the strong, confident soldier who always seemed to know what to say, what to do. This was a shell of that man, worn down by guilt and grief.
"I compartmentalized," he said after a long moment. "The Warrior and the Soldier. Sometimes, I... I forgot which one was real."
"And which one was it?" you asked. "Which version of you was real, Reiner?"
He shook his head slowly. "I don't know anymore. Maybe neither."
You stood up abruptly, unable to sit still with the storm of emotions churning inside you. The cabin was too small to pace properly, but you moved to the porthole, looking out at the darkening sky without really seeing it.
"Do you have any idea what your betrayal did to me?" Your voice was quieter now, but no less intense. "It wasn't just that you were the Armored Titan. It was that you were you. Someone I..." You swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "Someone I cared about. A lot."
You heard the bunk creak as Reiner shifted his weight but didn't turn to look at him.
"I nearly quit the Scouts after you left," you continued, watching your breath fog the glass of the porthole. "I couldn't understand how I could have been so wrong about someone. How I could have trusted you so completely."
Your fingertips pressed against the cool glass as memories flooded back—training together in the rain, his hands adjusting your grip on the ODM gear controls, his laughter at your terrible jokes, the way his eyes would find yours across the mess hall.
"And it wasn't just you," you said, your voice growing thick with unshed tears. "I haven't been able to truly trust anyone since. Not completely. There's always this voice in the back of my mind asking if they're hiding something too. If they'll betray me just like you did."
"I'm sorry," Reiner said, his voice barely audible.
You whirled around to face him, anger flaring hot and bright. "Sorry doesn't bring my family back! Sorry doesn't erase the fact that you lied to me for years! Sorry doesn't change the fact that every memory I have of us is tainted now because I don't even know if any of it was real!"
"It was real," Reiner said, standing up now, something finally sparking in his eyes. "That's what you don't understand. It was all real for me too."
"How could it be real when it was all built on a lie?" Your voice rose, echoing in the small space.
"Because I didn't know how to separate the lie from the truth anymore!" He took a step toward you, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Do you think this has been easy for me? Do you think I just walked away and forgot about all of you—forgot about you?"
You stared at him, momentarily stunned by the sudden emotion in his voice.
"I've thought about you every single day since then," he continued, his voice breaking. "I see your face in my dreams. I hear your voice when it's quiet. You've been haunting me for four years, and I deserve it."
The raw pain in his voice knocked the breath from your lungs. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you stared at him, really seeing him for perhaps the first time since you'd learned the truth—not as the Armored Titan, not as the Warrior, not even as the Soldier, but as Reiner. Just Reiner, broken and haunted and so very human.
"I know you hate me," he said, quieter now, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. "You should hate me. If I could go back and change what I did..."
"But you can't," you whispered.
"No," he agreed. "I can't."
The admission hung between you, simple and devastating in its truth. You couldn't change the past. Your family was still gone. The walls were still broken. And Reiner—your Reiner—had still been the one to do it.
But the man standing before you now, shoulders slumped under the weight of his actions, eyes filled with a pain that mirrored your own—he wasn't the Armored Titan anymore. He was just as broken as you were.
Then suddenly you moved, your arms wrapping around his waist, your face pressed against his chest as sobs wracked your body. You could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady against your cheek, so at odds with the broken man it belonged to.
For a terrible second, he remained frozen, and you thought you'd made a mistake. Then his arms came around you, tight and desperate, one hand cradling the back of your head as he buried his face in your hair. His body trembled against yours, and you realized he was crying too—silent, shuddering sobs that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him.
The stubborn shame that had kept you both at arm's length dissolved in the salt of your mingled tears. There, in the dim light of the cabin, with the gentle rocking of the ship beneath you and the uncertain future ahead, you held each other like the last two survivors of a shipwreck—broken, exhausted, but somehow still alive.
You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, holding each other in the dim light of the cabin, your tears gradually subsiding into uneven breaths. His arms around you felt both familiar and foreign—the shape of him changed, but the way he held you still the same.
When you finally pulled back, just enough to look up at him, your faces were inches apart. Your hands had somehow moved to his shoulders, feeling the unfamiliar angles where muscle had once been. His eyes, red-rimmed from crying, searched yours with a question he didn't dare voice.
"I still hate what you did," you whispered, your voice hoarse. "I don't know if I can ever forgive that."
Reiner nodded slightly, accepting your words without defense. One of his hands had found its way to your face, his thumb gently brushing away a tear from your cheek.
"But I don't know how to hate you," you admitted, the confession tearing itself from somewhere deep inside you. "I've tried for four years, and I just... can't."
Something flickered in his eyes—a spark of something you hadn't seen since before everything fell apart. Hope, maybe. Or longing.
You weren't sure who closed the distance. Maybe both of you, drawn together like the inevitable pull of gravity. His lips found yours in a kiss that was hesitant at first, as if he expected you to push him away. When you didn't—when instead you pressed closer, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt—the hesitation gave way to a desperate need that matched your own.
Reiner's arms tightened around you, backing you against the wall beside the porthole. The cool glass pressed against your shoulder, a stark contrast to the heat of his body against yours. His kiss deepened, years of unspoken feelings pouring into it as his tongue met yours.
You gasped against his mouth, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, longer now than you remembered. The scrape of his beard against your skin was new, and your heart skipped a beat at the way his breath hitched when you tugged gently at his hair.
When you pulled away again, breathless, his eyes were dark with a mixture of desire and pain. "I shouldn't be doing this," he whispered, even as his thumb traced circles on your hip. "After everything I've done..."
"Shut up," you murmured, pulling him back to you. "Just shut up, Reiner."
He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob against your lips. "Still stubborn," he breathed.
Your hands tangled in his hair, eyes squeezed shut as you took in the feel of him. You were desperate, you knew. You felt pathetic, but you wanted him. Needed to be close to him.
"It's embarrassing how long I've wanted to do this," you murmured against his lips, your voice barely audible over the sound of your racing hearts.
His forehead pressed against yours, his eyes closed as he took an unsteady breath. "When we were back in training, that day in Stohess..." His voice was rough, trailing off as your lips found the curve of his jaw.
"Why didn't you kiss me then?" you asked, the question muffled against his skin.
Reiner's laugh was soft and broken. "I wanted to. Every second we were together." His hands slid down to your waist, anchoring you against him as if afraid you might disappear. "I told myself it was because of the mission. That I couldn't get distracted."
You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your hand coming up to touch his face, feeling the unfamiliar texture of his beard beneath your fingertips. "And the real reason?"
He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again. "I was afraid that if I started, I wouldn't be able to stop. That I'd tell you everything." The admission seemed to cost him, his voice barely above a whisper. "And then you'd hate me."
"I did hate you," you said quietly. "When I found out."
His eyes clouded with pain, but he nodded. "I know."
You leaned in, brushing your lips against his again, more gently this time. "But I hated myself more for still wanting this. For still wanting you."
Reiner's response was to kiss you again, deeper this time, his body pressing yours more firmly against the wall. One hand tangled in your hair while the other gripped your hip, his touch both gentle and desperate. You could taste the salt of tears—whose, you weren't sure anymore—and something else, something uniquely him that you had tried so hard to forget.
The ship rocked with a stronger wave, causing you both to sway. Reiner's arm tightened around your waist, steadying you, and for a brief moment, you were back in the training grounds, his arms around you as he corrected your stance, his breath warm against your ear.
"I missed you," he breathed against your mouth, the words so quiet they might have been imagined. "Every day."
You didn't answer with words. You couldn't. The anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface, alongside grief and betrayal and a hundred other emotions you couldn't name. But for now, in the dim light of the cabin with the sea stretching endlessly around you, you let yourself remember what it felt like to be in his arms.
Your lips found his again, harder this time, your teeth catching his lower lip in a way that made him groan. His hands tightened on you in response, lifting you slightly as he pressed you more firmly against the wall. The kiss deepened, grew more urgent, years of longing and hurt and need pouring into it.
The world outside—Eren, the Rumbling, the fate that awaited all of you—seemed distant and unreal compared to the solid warmth of Reiner against you, the familiar-yet-different taste of his mouth, the sound of his ragged breathing mingling with your own.
This wasn't forgiveness. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But as his lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, tracing a path that made your breath catch, you realized it might be something like a beginning. A chance to finally confront all the things left unsaid between you, all the hurt and the betrayal, but also all the moments that had been real.
Reiner’s hands slid down your sides, fingers digging into your hips as he kissed you with a desperation that made your knees weak. The rough scrape of his beard against your skin sent shivers down your spine, and when his teeth grazed your bottom lip, you gasped—only for him to swallow the sound with another searing kiss.
This isn't at all how you expected your "talk" to go. Years of rehearsing different scripts in your head about how you'd tell him you hate him when you saw him, how you'd show him how it felt to feel betrayed and alone... All of those came crumbling down when he touched you like this, so gently but also so needy.
Not that the idea in general hadn't crossed your mind an embarrassing and pathetic amount of times. That, you couldn't deny. Since your cadet days you'd wondered what it would feel like with him, hoping he'd make a move. But he never did. Your heart skipped a beat when you felt the sadness well up inside you again, but that feeling quickly went away when he tilted his head to better kiss you.
His body pressed you harder against the wall, the heat of him searing through your clothes. You could feel the evidence of his arousal against your thigh, and the knowledge of how badly he wanted you—after all this time—sent a thrill through you.
Then, without warning, he broke the kiss, his breath ragged. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, lips swollen from yours.
"Tell me to stop," he murmured, voice rough.
You didn’t.
A low sound escaped him, something between a groan and a growl, before his hands tightened on your waist—and then he was lifting you, turning, and depositing you onto the narrow bunk behind you in one swift motion. The thin mattress barely cushioned the impact, but you barely had time to register it before Reiner was on his knees between your legs, his hands sliding up your thighs with a reverence that made your breath hitch.
His gaze flicked up to yours, searching, hesitant—like he still couldn’t believe you were letting him touch you.
"Please," he breathed, fingers curling into the fabric of your pants. "Let me taste you."
The raw need in his voice sent a jolt straight to your core. He was begging. Reiner—the man who had once been so confident, so sure of himself—was now on his knees for you, looking up at you like you were the only thing that could save him.
You swallowed hard, your pulse hammering in your throat. You also didn't expect it to go like this. The Reiner that you knew back then presented himself to be some kind of big leader, something you admired because of how he never seemed to let it go to his head. He was one of the strongest, but he was humble.
So seeing him like this, desperate between your legs, felt almost like culture shock.
But even so, being with him, feeling him, talking to him all felt so good. So good you could cry. "Okay," you breathed, nodding.
His fingers trembled slightly as he undid the fastenings of your pants, tugging them down your legs along with your underwear. Your cunt was already pathetically wet just from making out, and suddenly you just wanted to close your legs so he wouldn't see how much he affected you. Stubborn pride still warred inside you even now. The cool air of the cabin ghosted over your exposed skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Reiner’s breath as he leaned in, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, making your heart swell.
Reiner’s hands spread your thighs wider, his thumbs brushing over the damp curls between them. His breath stuttered when he saw how wet you were, his fingers tracing your folds with agonizing slowness.
“Fuck,” he muttered, voice wrecked.
He kissed at your inner thighs some more, almost like he just couldn't get enough of the simple action. He'd lick at them, suck them, anything. Reiner was willing to drag this out, it seemed.
"Has anyone ever done this for you before?" Reiner asked, his tone carrying a mix of emotions, staring up at you with his pretty hazel eyes as he kissed at the soft skin of your thighs. Deep down, he selfishly hoped no one else had gotten to see you like this—feel you like this.
Your breath hitched at the sight, unable to pull your gaze away and similarly unable to stop your arousal and need as you felt yourself wet the sheets beneath you even further. "I don't see how that's any of your business," you replied stubbornly, wanting to keep the small amount of control you still held.
That gave Reiner all the answer he needed. "Hm," he responded, careful not to anger you, careful not to upset you. but also understanding and seeing just how much you wanted this—wanted him. And equally he was exceptionally aware of the way his cock twitched in his pants, desperate to make you feel good, desperate to feel your thighs around his head and your fingers against his scalp, desperate to hear you in these moments he's imagined you in so many times.
Reiner didn’t wait for another teasing remark from you—his mouth was on you in an instant, his tongue dragging a slow, filthy stripe up your soaked cunt, groaning against you like he’d been starving for this. The sound alone made your back arch off the bunk, a sharp gasp tearing from your lips as his hands clamped down on your thighs, holding you open for him.
He was messy—no finesse, no practiced rhythm, just pure, desperate hunger. His tongue lapped at you like he was trying to memorize your taste, his nose pressing against your clit as he buried his face between your legs. Every flick of his tongue was sloppy, wet, loud, the obscene sounds of his mouth working you filling the tiny cabin. You could feel his stubble scraping against your sensitive skin, the rough drag only making the pleasure sharper, more overwhelming.
“Fuck—Reiner—” Your fingers tangled in his blonde hair, gripping hard as his tongue circled your clit before sucking it between his lips. His groan vibrated through you, his hands sliding under your ass to tilt your hips up, giving him better access as he devoured you.
He was relentless, like he’d been waiting years for this—because he had. Every muffled sound he made against your cunt, every time his tongue plunged inside you only to drag back up, every time his lips sealed around your clit to suck—it was all too much, and yet you never wanted it to stop.
His enthusiasm was almost embarrassing, the way he moaned into you like he was the one being pleasured, his hips moving against his hand as he rubbed his cock through his pants. You could feel the wetness of your own arousal smeared across his chin, and the sight alone had your thighs trembling around his head.
Drool mixed with your arousal, dripping down his chin as he ate you out like a man possessed. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you wider, keeping you open for him as his tongue plunged inside you, fucking into you with rough, eager strokes before retreating to suck your clit again.
"Taste so good," he panted against you, his voice wrecked. "Fuck, fuck, I knew you would—"
His words cut off into a groan as he redoubled his efforts, his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit before he sealed his lips around it again, sucking hard. The wet, filthy sounds of his mouth on you filled the cabin, obscene and perfect, and you could feel the way his hips rocked slightly against the bunk, rutting into nothing as he got off on just tasting you.
"Been thinking about this—" he rasped, pulling back just enough to speak before diving back in, his tongue circling your clit in tight, relentless circles. "—every night—"
His fingers dug into your thighs, leaving marks as he held you down, refusing to let you squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure.
"Close," you choked out, your hips jerking against his mouth. "I’m so close—"
Reiner growled, the sound vibrating through you as he sucked your clit into his mouth one last time, his tongue flicking over it rapidly—
And then you were coming, your back bowing off the bunk as pleasure crashed through you in waves. He didn’t let up, licking you through it, swallowing every drop of you as you shuddered and gasped above him.
When you finally went limp, panting, he pulled back just enough to look up at you.
His chest heaved, his eyes dark with need. But above that, it was like he needed some confirmation he did good.
"Fuck," he breathed. "Are you okay?"
Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him up your body until his weight settled over you, pressing you deeper into the thin mattress. His skin was fever-hot, his muscles taut with restraint, but his eyes—those damn hazel eyes—were soft, almost reverent, as he looked down at you.
You didn't answer, not verbally at least.
Your hand slid into his hair, gripping tight as you dragged his mouth to yours, kissing him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue. A rough groan tore from his throat, his hips jerking forward instinctively, the hard length of his cock grinding against your still-sensitive clit through his pants.
His groan was muffled against your mouth as you licked into him, your fingers tightening in his hair. You could feel the way his body shuddered when you nipped at his bottom lip, the way his hips jerked forward instinctively, grinding his cock—so fucking hard against your thigh.
“God, you’re—” His voice broke as you kissed him again, rougher this time, your teeth dragging over his lip. His hands gripped your waist, fingers digging in like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go. “Fuck, I need—please—”
"Reiner," you breathed, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "Please fuck me."
You could feel it—the way his entire body trembled with the effort of holding back, the way his breath came in ragged bursts against your mouth. His hands fumbled with his belt, his fingers shaking as he undid the buckle, his cock springing free, thick and flushed and aching for you.
Reiner didn’t waste another second.
He hooked his hands under your knees, spreading you wider, his gaze locked on where your slick glistened between your thighs. His breath hitched, his cock twitching against your stomach as he lined himself up, the blunt head pressing against your entrance.
“Look at me,” he demanded, his voice rough.
You did.
His eyes burned into yours as he pushed inside, slow, so agonizingly slow, his jaw clenched tight as he fought to keep control. The stretch was delicious, the way your walls fluttered around him making his hips stutter.
“Fuck,” he gritted out, his fingers digging into your thighs. “You feel—Christ—you feel even better than I imagined.”
And then he was seated fully inside you, his hips flush against yours, his cock buried to the hilt. For a moment, neither of you moved—just breathed, just felt, the weight of years of longing crashing over you both.
Then—because he needed to see it, needed to know this was real—he leaned back on his heels, pulling out almost all the way just to watch the way your cunt clung to him, glistening and desperate, before slamming back in. His cock disappeared inside you, your wetness coating his dick as your body stretched to take him.
The sound you made was sinful.
Reiner’s hips snapped forward again, harder this time, his cock dragging against your walls in a way that made your toes curl. His grip shifted from your wrist to your hip, holding you in place as he fucked into you with slow, deep strokes—like he was savoring every second, like he wanted to memorize the way your body took him.
His dick glistened with your arousal, disappearing inside you with each thrust, your cunt gripping him like it was made for him. He couldn’t look away—couldn’t stop the way his breath hitched as he watched himself fuck into you, over and over, your body taking him so perfectly.
Reiner’s rhythm was relentless, each deep stroke dragging a gasp from your lips. His broad palm slid down your stomach, fingers gliding through your slick until his thumb found your clit, rubbing tight, rough circles that made your toes curl.
"There you go," he murmured, voice thick with praise as he watched your face twist in pleasure. "So fucking pretty when you take me like this. Can’t believe you’re real—can’t believe I get to have you."
You whimpered, your hips lifting to meet his thrusts, desperate for more, for everything. Reiner moaned at the way your body clenched around him, his thumb pressing harder against your clit.
"Love the way you take me," he panted, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. "Like you were made for me, huh? Made to take my cock just like this—shit—"
Then, without warning, he leaned forward, his chest pressing flush against yours, his weight pinning you completely beneath him. The new angle made him sink deeper, his cock hitting a spot inside you that had your vision whiting out for a second.
"There," he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. "That’s it, sweetheart. Let me have you just like this—fuck—"
His thrusts turned slower but impossibly harder, each one dragging a broken moan from your lips. His fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head back so he could kiss you again, swallowing your gasps like he needed them to survive.
He braced himself above you, muscles taut, sweat glistening on his skin as he watched your face—every flutter of your lashes, every bitten-off moan—like he was memorizing you all over again.
His hips rolled into yours with a deep, almost reverent grind, pressing so deep you could feel him in your ribs. Your breath hitched as he lingered there, his tip nudging that perfect, aching spot inside you before pulling back with a slow, torturous drag that made your toes curl.
"Feel how deep I am?" he breathed, his fingers tightening on your hip as he rocked into you again, slow and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. "Fuck, you’re perfect."
His voice was wrecked, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. But he didn’t rush—just kept moving inside you with that same maddening pace, every thrust a sweet torment.
"Could stay like this forever," he admitted, his lips brushing your jaw. "Just like this—buried inside you, feeling you clench around me like you never wanna let me go."
"Reiner," you whined.
"I've got you," he responded, hips never stopping.
And when your back arched, your body tightening around him, he didn’t speed up—just kept fucking you through it, his lips pressed to your neck, whispering praise as pleasure washed over you in waves.
Reiner’s thrusts grew more erratic, his control slipping as your walls fluttered around him, pulling him deeper with each desperate clench. His breath came in ragged gasps, his forehead pressed against yours as he fought to hold on just a little longer.
“I—fuck—I’m close,” he groaned, his voice rough with need. His fingers dug into your hips, his rhythm faltering as pleasure coiled tight in his gut.
You arched beneath him, nails scraping down his back as you panted, “Inside… please, Reiner—I want you to cum inside me.”
His entire body tensed at your words, a shudder running through him. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own dark with lust and something dangerously close to worship.
“Are you—fuck—are you sure?” he rasped, hips stuttering as he struggled to keep his pace steady.
You nodded, biting your lip as you clenched around him deliberately, drawing a broken groan from his lips.
“Yes,” you breathed. “Want to feel you—all of you.”
That was all it took.
Reiner’s restraint shattered.
"Fuck—gonna fill you up so good," he panted, his forehead dropping against yours. "Gonna make sure you feel it—"
You clenched around him, your own climax building again, and he cursed, his rhythm faltering.
"Come with me," he demanded, his voice wrecked. "Wanna feel you cum on my cock while I’m deep inside you—fuck—please—"
His words tipped you over the edge. Pleasure crashed through you, your body tightening around him in waves, and Reiner lost it.
With a growl that was almost feral, he slammed into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pulsed inside you, hot and thick. His body shuddered violently, his fingers gripping you like a lifeline as he spilled deep, his release filling you in waves.
You could feel him pulsing inside you, his cock twitching as he rode out his orgasm, his forehead pressed to yours. When he finally stilled, he didn’t pull away—just stayed there, his body heavy and warm against yours, his breath slowly steadying.
After a long moment, he lifted his head, his gaze soft as he brushed a sweaty strand of hair from your face.
"Okay?" he murmured, his thumb tracing your cheekbone.
You nodded, your fingers lazily tracing the muscles of his back.
Reiner exhaled, something like relief—or maybe wonder—flickering in his eyes before he leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips.
"Good," he murmured against your mouth.
You lay in comfortable silence for what felt like hours but was likely only minutes, Reiner's weight pressing you into the thin mattress, his breath warm against your neck. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, as though memorizing the feel of you. Neither of you wanted to break the spell, to acknowledge the world waiting outside this small cabin.
"I love you," you whispered finally, the words escaping before you could think better of them. They hung in the air between you, raw and honest.
Reiner stilled, his breath catching. Slowly, he raised himself up on his elbows to look at you, his hazel eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip. For a terrible moment, you thought you'd said too much, revealed too much of yourself to someone who had once betrayed you.
But then his expression softened, a genuine smile—one you hadn't seen in years—spreading across his face. "I love you too," he said, his voice steady and sure. "I always have."
He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. "I know it doesn't change anything," he murmured. "I know it doesn't make up for what I did. But it's true."
His eyes grew serious again. "Whatever happens with Eren, with the Rumbling… I'm going to protect you. I promise."
Before you could respond, a sharp knock at the door made you both jump.
"Hey, you two done?" Connie's voice called through the thin wood. "There's food up on the deck if you're interested. Kinda limited, but better than nothing."
You and Reiner exchanged wide-eyed looks before scrambling to get dressed, movements frantic and clumsy in the small space. Your fingers fumbled with buttons and clasps as you tried to make yourselves presentable.
"Uh, yeah," Reiner called back, his voice remarkably steady considering his panicked expression. "We'll be right there."
You could hear the smirk in Connie's voice as he replied, "Take your time. Not like we can hear everything through these paper-thin walls or anything."
Your face burned as you hurriedly tucked in your shirt. Reiner looked equally mortified, though a small, almost boyish grin played at the corners of his mouth when your eyes met.
"Ready?" he asked softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
You nodded, taking a deep breath before opening the door. Connie was waiting in the narrow corridor, a knowing grin splitting his face. Without a word, he turned and headed up the stairs, gesturing for you both to follow.
Reiner went first, and you couldn't help but notice the way Connie immediately engaged him in animated conversation as they climbed, acting as though nothing unusual had happened at all. Their voices faded slightly as they reached the deck above.
Jean appeared at your side as you finished climbing the stairs.
"So," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I take it the talk went well?"
You felt heat rise to your cheeks. "Yeah, really well," you replied, hoping that Connie was just teasing and no one else heard a thing.
"I just mean," he continued, a stupid and annoying grin on your face, "when I suggested you two clear the air, I didn't necessarily mean you should bring down the whole ship with your—"
Your face burned with embarrassment and fury. "I will literally throw you overboard, Jean," you hissed, shoving his shoulder hard enough to make him stumble back. "I swear to God—"
Jean laughed, ducking away from your next swing. "Hey, I'm happy for you guys! Honestly!" He held up his hands in surrender, still grinning as he backed up the stairs. "Just doing my part as your friend to give you shit about it."
reiner taking your virginity headcanons :33 i love this man so much it hurts
⟢ his hands trembles as they slide across your delicate skin, making sure to give every single inch of your surface the attention it deserves
⟢ he worships you and your body, can’t tear his eyes away from you even for a second
⟢ he makes sure to always ask you if you’re okay, if you want to stop, never losing eye contact
⟢ as gentle as ever, stretching your hole with his fingers slowly, even though a part of him wants to corrupt you and fuck you dumb
⟢ pushes his thick length into your tight hole and kisses your cheek and whispers sweet nothings into your ear, doing everything he can to make you feel as relaxed as possible
⟢ “i’m so sorry baby” he says in a shaky breath, feeling oh so bad that your first time is with someone as big as him
⟢ “you’re taking me so well, my sweet girl”
⟢ lots n lots of aftercare, i feel like reiner is the kind of guy to sometimes enjoy the aftermaths of sex more than the actual deed
⟢ cuddling for hours, his big arms wrapping around you as he holds your sensitive body close to his until you fall asleep
pros of eating your lunch outside on a nice spring day: feeling the sun, getting vitamin d, hearing birds chirping, watching the bees and the lizards and the squirrels
cons of eating your lunch outside on a nice spring day:
Hands bound behind your back and ankles tied and being thrown roughly onto the ground unable to properly brace yourself so you're forced to take the whole painful impact unprepared slamming your shoulder and your head into the hard unrelenting surface beneath you. You agree.
actually hate that the bodys response to anything is nausea. ate too much? nauseous. ate too little? nauseous. an imaginary threat got you scared? be nauseous. on your period? you guessed it. sawed into your hand and need to go to the emergency room? perhaps throwing up into your open wound will be of help
