Swipe Right — K. Bakugo X Fem! Reader

last night, you had your very first sleepover with katsuki.

it was perfect. no snoring or sleep walking, no blanket hogging, and most importantly—no pro hero work pulling him away in the morning. the only thing that would’ve made it better, is some clarity.

you’re dating katsuki, but it’s not official—he’s not your boyfriend. you wonder if maybe, he’s just not that into you, or perhaps, he just doesn’t have the time. time—something he’s never had enough of, that has to be it, right?

your very first date, it was a two parter, because he was needed elsewhere mid mapo tofu. a few other dates after that were also cut short—maybe he thinks you just don’t know each other well enough yet? is it even possible for someone like him to think that way? whatever the reason, you need to know.

“morning katsuki,” you murmur, shuffling into the kitchen as you pull your sleeves up over your fists. you have a clear goal in mind—but he’s cooking, without a shirt, and suddenly your mission is ten times more difficult. is this what being a pro hero feels like?

“morning,” he mumbles back, glancing up briefly as you lean against the counter.

“what am i to you?” shit, how did that slip out? you could’ve sworn you asked how he slept.

“a fuckin’ headache,” he replies, sliding two glasses out of the cupboard and onto the counter. he opens the fridge, grabbing the carton of apple juice, and the carton of orange juice.

date three, part one—you had a heated debate over which is better, apple or orange. katsuki told you he doesn’t like to chew his damn beverages, and you told him that, believe it or not, they make orange juice without pulp. still, he went on about the bitterness, the acidity, and the horrid oj and toothpaste combo—yet here he is having both in his refrigerator—how odd.

“c’mon, i’m serious,” you urge, watching the liquids cascade into their respective cups.

“so ‘m i.” he nudges your glass towards you, bringing his own up to his lips and chugging it.

“but, i’m in your apartment,” you pause, noticing the way his face contorts into a full on sentence—one that reads yeah, no shit. “i slept in your bed with you, i’m wearing your shirt,” you continue, gesturing to the long sleeve currently swallowing you whole.

“you’re talkin’ my damn ear off too,” he breathes, wiping an arm over his mouth.

by date five, it was obvious that katsuki’s actions spoke louder than his words—which is impressive considering just how loud his words are. puddles lined the streets that evening, courtesy of the afternoon downpour. it was busy, drivers lost in their own little worlds as they drove past—and each and every time, katsuki would angle his body to the right just a bit. he cursed every last one of them who sped by, and he was absolutely miserable by the time you made it off the main roads but, at least you were dry.

“nevermind,” you say, sliding into a chair at the dining table. you’ve decided that, whatever this is—it’s good enough for you.

but it was on date one part two that katsuki knew you were it for him. after running out on you just three nights prior, he was glad you even showed up—but you went one step further. you sat there with that pretty smile on your face. no eye rolls, no guilt trips, and not a single snide remark or complaint. you even offered to pay for the meal—as if he would ever let you do such a thing, but he found it cute nonetheless. so, he owes you this.

“hey,” he barks, causing your head to snap up. the two plates he had set on the counter are full now, he must be done. “you’re mine.”

the look on your face must’ve said it all, because he’s choking back a laugh as he carries your plates over. you’re his? why did he blurt it out so casually? are you missing something?

“oh c’mon,” he huffs, plopping down in the seat next to you. he turns, trailing his eyes up and down your figure. “you slept on my damn side of the bed, in my fuckin’ shirt.”

he gave you this shirt—right before he told you to go wait in bed while he tidied up—how the hell were you supposed to know he has a specific side?

“don’t play dumb,” he pauses, scowl growing as he watches you reach for a piece of food with your bare hands. he grabs your wrist, ushering for you to let him roll your sleeves up—like hell he’s gonna sit back and watch you get his shirt dirty.

he folds the fabric with precision, biting the inside of his cheek in an attempt to hide his smile—but he just can’t.

“y’already know you’re mine.”

shut up i’m busy having a fake relationship with a fictional character right now

[ nsfw ] — role-play (and a smidge of dub-con in said role) but it's silly ; insecure bakugou bc it makes me feral.

[ disclaimer ] — i'm sure this goes without saying, but this is based on my own personal interpretation of bakugou and not meant to insult or offend. ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

[ word count ] — 3.9k ; this was just supposed to be short and silly idk what happened LOL

katsuki is shy.

as soon as he sees you — rushing out from the kitchen, grabbing the laundry basket that's been filled with some of his things — his face is already turning pink. blush growing, just like his scowl.

he doesn't say anything at first, just eyes your jumpsuit and your boots and little mask, and then his work bag hits the floor with a resounding thud. "the fuck are y'doin'?"

"oh, no!" you cry dramatically, pressing a hand to your forehead as you look down in the basket — which holds two of his watches and a pair of shoes gifted from his mom and even a few of the nicer necklaces he's bought you over the years. "pro-hero dynamight has caught me!"

and then he knows exactly what you're up to.

still, he says nothing, even though you wait to see if he'll play along, grinning all the while. under your gaze, he shifts awkwardly, screwing up his lips as he tries to ignore the low cut of your outfit, swallowing when you push your boobs together with your arms.

"i better get out of here," you say loudly, as if he hadn't heard you. "i don't want such a big, strong hero to arrest me!"

the temperature of his face rises, but your corny line has his attitude returning with a vengeance. "what are you doing?"

a streak of insecurity runs through you, but you grit your teeth together, steeling yourself so that it doesn't show. you don't miss the subtle way he tries to wipe his hands on his sweatpants or how secretly he tries to tug at them — and that gives you all the confirmation that you need.

your boyfriend is a big pervert, and you're determined to prove it.

(last week, katsuki was on night patrol and had gone into the agency around 7pm. the shirt he grabbed had been the wrong one, a black sleeveless tank with a giant tear in the side that he had yet to sew up, and he'd called to ask if you could bring him a new one.

sure, no problem; when you got to his office, he'd been sitting at his desk in just his tac pants and boots, scrolling through mindless paperwork while waiting and he'd looked — really good. you see him without a shirt all the time, but mostly he's in sweatpants or fresh out of the shower, and there was something about seeing him so geared up and ready to go that struck you differently.

you don't often watch the replays on tv of his work because it scares you, but to witness him as dynamight —

it had you feeling mischievous, suffice to say.

you sat quietly on his desk, watching him close out of his computer, smiling to yourself as he logged off. he thanked you for the shirt with a kiss to the cheek and then he expected you to head home; you could see it in his eyes, watching you — a little wary — as he fiddled with the material in his hands.

"there's, like, nobody in here."

katsuki shrugged, little kissable pout on his lips. "s'almost 8, everyone's at home."

you hummed, turning around to stare out his open office, down the long line of sleeping monitors in their cubicles. "we could have sex in here and nobody would know."

it made him choke, and he stepped back from you to cough into his fist before looking at you with wide eyes. "what?"

of course, it was his reaction at that point that had you feeling wicked. "c'mon, you got 10 minutes?'

his eyes danced to every corner of the room, cheeks flushing in the low light from his desk lamp, before he leaned to look out the door, too. checking, you think.

"i—what? no, i-i don't. pinky's waitin' for me out there."

you were only being cheeky—at least mostly—so you'd simply stuck your tongue out at him and shrugged. "okay, fine." and then he sighed, like he'd narrowly gotten away from something, before leaning back to shove his hands in his pants. you grinned, watching as he adjusted himself. "i mean, i can be quick, if you want."

"shut. up." he hissed, and it wasn't until he removed his hand that you realized exactly how hard he was, palming at his bulge roughly, as if he could smash it down until it was gone.

just from that. just from the suggestion of fucking on his desk. you laughed and he glared and then kicked you out, after a furious kiss that was firmer than usual.)

katsuki is very — particular about sex. something he likes to take his time with, despite being lightning quick about everything else in his life. it's only in the last year that he's allowed himself to be a little more vocal in bed, moaning openly against your skin, telling you how good you feel in his quiet, broken little voice.

as far as kirishima lets on, this is his longest relationship and, even though he's surely not a virgin, you wonder if he's ever really been comfortable with himself sexually. he's got an absurd amount of testosterone raging through his body at all times, but he always acts so unsure, like he's worried he'll do something to embarrass himself; you're determined to free him from that fear.

and — seeing him get worked up over you is half the fun, anyway.

you carefully set the laundry basket down — which also holds an older model of his left gauntlet — before moving like you're going to run right out the front door, only to unfortunately stumble straight into him.

"oh, no!" you say again, hands flat against his chest as you sink into him. "please don't arrest me dynamight, i'll do anything."

his throat works hard, eyes jumping between your face and the front of your tiny jumpsuit, which is unzipping the more you arch your back and push against it. he rasps, "what is this?"

you pout at him before dropping straight down to your knees, twirling the string of his sweatpants around your finger as he gapes at you. "i'm a horrible, horrible villain," you explain, "and we've been playing this little cat-and-mouse game for too long! and you've been chasing after me for months and now you've caught me here in the solitude of your own home and, much to your surprise," you unzip the rest of the top for emphasis, smiling when he slumps back against the front door. "i'm a woman!"

katsuki is — still speechless, though you can see the gears turning in his head as you nuzzle against the swelling bulge in his soft sweatpants, mouthing at his tip through the thick material.

"i'll do anything, dynamight, sir." you goad, and you wait and he's not breathing, just furrowing his brows down at you. you try not to make a face at him and purposely cup him through his pants, hard.

it makes him nearly jump out of his skin. "wh-what's with—the fuckin' getup?"

you slump, leaning your cheek against his thigh to pout up at him some more. "i got it at the costume store, baby, but that's not..."

the cool, air-conditioned breeze is nipping at your exposed skin the longer you sit in front of him like this and it's chasing away all the sultry confidence you had before he came home.

it's not even like you actually think katsuki's a pervert, you just want him to be kinky without being ashamed of it, and, much as you want to fix that now, maybe you're going about this the wrong way. maybe this is something you two need to sit down and talk about. maybe there is something he's not telling you, on purpose.

he stares straight ahead, mouth open like he's waiting for his words to come out, and you watch as a bead of sweat slips from his hairline down to his jaw before hiding your face in his leg and groaning quietly; you're not mad, just a little embarrassed that you thought this is what would work on him.

"okay, okay," you say, standing back up to re-zip your suit. "i'm done, sorry for ambushing you."

his eyes snap to yours, though he's still quiet, and he eventually closes his mouth, gritting his jaw so hard that his ears wiggle once. you plant a kiss on him, quick and dry, before turning to head back to your room so you can change, pulling the cheap eye-mask over your head. the string catches against your head and snaps you once, and you mumble a quiet ow before reaching for the door knob.

very carefully, you feel katsuki's fingers dance over your waist, and he reaffirms his grip after you pause. he pushes you forward flat against the wood gently, not at all how he would to a real villain, and then he buries his face in your neck, hot breath coming quick as if he'd been running.

you try not to smile because the curve of your cheeks will give you away, and so you stay quiet, waiting. you feel him breath in hard through his nose, grunting once before speaking.

"where...d'y'think you're goin'?"

his ears are burning into your skin, but when you roll your hips back against him, he reciprocates, fingers tightening as he pins you firmly to the door.

you try again. "are you going to arrest me, dynamight?"

"uh," katsuki breathes, pulling his head back to look behind him towards his bag. "i, uh," his hesitation is so endearing that you can't help but to grin, "i've only got, um, zipties in—"

"ow!" you squeal, arching into him, though the sound makes him jump back a step. with the new space, you twist your arms around your back, grabbing your own wrists in a false bind. "please be gentle with me, sir!"

he huffs, shaky, before purposely grinding his hard length against your ass. one of his hands curls around both of your own, firm in keeping you "caught", while his other goes to grab at the fat of your hips.

his breath warms behind your ear again and he nips at your neck once. "uh...the hell're you doin' in my house?"

you're happy and so you want to laugh, but you know he'll take it the wrong way, especially as nervous as he seems. instead you struggle in his hands, hardly serious, rubbing against him until he huffs again.

"i'll never tell you!"

"well, then," his arm slips fully around your waist, resting for a moment against the doorknob before turning it. "i'll—fuckin' make you."

you gasp loudly, spinning to back into the room until your knees hit the bed, collapsing down and trapping your hands beneath yourself. "you can't do this!" you struggle some more, wiggling your hips and straining against the tight jumpsuit so it'll start to force open again. "you have to let me go!"

katsuki is clearly at a loss, stepping up to the bed as he half-shrugs, uncertain. "no."

you smile despite yourself and it turns his face beet red, but you quickly school your expression back into fake shock. "i'll scream."

what you want him to say is something along the lines of, oh yeah baby i'll make you scream, but that is — simply not him, and you think he's not breathing again, just watching the zipper of your suit as it slowly struggles. it's so cheap and poorly made, you're surprised it hasn't broken yet.

you arch up at little, finding your mask sitting on the floor by the door, and you exaggerate a moan. "my identity," you whimper, making big, sad eyes at him. "i've been discovered."

katsuki shuffles again, glancing at the floor before bending to pick up the tacky thing. you hadn't meant for him to get it for you, but he tugs at it before coming closer, kneeling on the bed so he can pull it over your head.

as if, maybe he wants you to wear it.

you feel a little zing up your spine, wrapping your legs around his waist when he adjusts the string so it's more comfortable for you. his eyes go wide, hips falling forward until he's brushing against your core by accident, leaving you both a little breathless.

whatever patience you'd had before is whisked away when you feel how turned on he is, once your underwear clings against your skin with how wet you've unknowingly become.

"i bet you've been thinking about this," you whisper, heady, as you slowly grind up against him. "tying me up, all to yourself."

a sharp exhale leaves him, though he tries to close his mouth around it, cheeks burning as he struggles to maintain eye contact with you. "i-i thought—"

you nod, encouraging him with a breathy, "uh-huh?"

"i thought i didn't know you were a chick until now."

you stop, head dropping back to the bed as you stare at him.

well. shit. you did say that.

you shake your head, sighing when one of his hands closes around your hip to keep you moving. "okay, pretend you already knew." he nods his head, a little vigorously, before pressing you into the mattress, grinding against you with purpose now. the pressure is good enough that you feel your eyes lidding, a dull throb building where you're most sensitive. "i bet you've been thinking about punishing me all by yourself, dynamight."

it makes his face and neck burn, and katsuki has to squeeze his eyes shut once before dropping his elbows to the bed and leaning just barely over your lips. "yeah," is all he says, voice wavering.

you lean up to brush your nose against his, but you don't kiss him. "and how're you gonna do that?" he angles his hips, deliberately catching your clit when he ruts against you, and it draws the first, genuine moan from your lips. you think he can tell, because he grits his teeth and does it over and over. "are you gonna fuck me or what?"

katsuki just nods, quickly sitting back up on his knees so he can pull his shirt up over his head. it reminds you of what started this mission in the first place and you take in the sight of him, muscles taut with anticipation, his adonis belt that stems into the low band of his sweats.

"i've been thinking about it, too," you say, dragging your eyes up his body slow, so that he can watch your appreciation, "because you're so big and strong and power—"

he cuts you off with a firm kiss, digging a hand into your hair so that he can slant your head. when you gasp at the tug on your scalp, katsuki swirls his tongue with yours, slow and sweet, eliciting another soft moan that has him breathing in hard through his nose.

"damn woman," he grunts, sitting back up to yank at the zipper on your suit, cheeks burning when he eyes your lazy grin. "tryin' to fuckin' kill me."

you laugh. "on the contrary, dynamight, i'm actually—" katsuki pulls you into a sitting position, tugging your suit back over your shoulders until it hits your elbows.

and then you both look at each other.

"um," you swivel on the mattress just a bit, thinking; maybe wearing a one-piece jumpsuit wasn't a great idea, when being "bound" is involved, or you should have at least waited until he got you naked. "let's just pretend—"

"yeah, yeah," katsuki nods, scratching his head as you unwind your arms quickly and slip them through the sleeves, falling back over your hands as he tugs the whole thing down your thighs. your boots are still on, but he doesn't bother with those, just ducks under the bridge of clothing until he's against you again.

you squirm in your tiny, mesh underwear, a gasp echoing out of you when he mouths at the skin below your belly button, moving lower and lower until his tongue is meeting the thin material that separates you. this — wasn't part of the plan; you were expecting him to just shove his pants down and bully his way inside of you, which was fine for this scenario, but the wet glide of his tongue has you forgetting about everything except for how hot he's making you.

your back arches as the material begins to saturate — both from you and him — and you moan, growing needy for more; his mouth on you feels amazing as always, but your underwear, the partition between you, are already starting to grate on your nerves. katsuki must know because he can read you so well, and he hooks his fingers around the thin mesh before yanking that out of his way, too.

"fuck," you gasp, hips jerking when his tongue swipes against your swollen bud, and you let out another whiny noise when he closes his lips around it. you feel — soaked, but gilded, trying to catch the breath he keeps pulling from you.

both his hands come up to stroke over your hip bones, holding you down as you tremble, pulling you close so that his nose drags against you, too. the added pressure makes you shudder and your head falls back to the mattress as his messy kiss coils something tighter and tighter in your belly.

"katsuki," you moan, wanton, and rip your hand from underneath your back to fist a handful of his hair, legs closing around his head as his tongue slips inside of you. "fuck, 'm—"

the strain against his scalp makes him groan, open-mouthed, and you try to remind yourself to take note of that, but the vibration of the sound leaves you quivering. your hips move of their own accord, bucking up against the flat of his tongue as you feel the warmth dripping down your spine, as your toes begin to curl, as your mind goes blank.

and then he's pulling away from you all too soon, surging up to plant a wet, heady kiss to your lips, to share the essence that's still sweet in his mouth. he's panting into you, one of his hands palming roughly at your breast while the other reaches back to rip one of your boots off.

you maybe shouldn't have tied them so seriously, because it takes him a few horrible moments before he can get the laces loose enough to tug off your foot, pulling the rest of the jumpsuit down one leg.

"you're," he breathes, hands going back to your hips to grip them firmly. "supposed to be tied up."

katsuki flips you onto your stomach, pulling you to the edge of the bed, on your knees so that he can run a hand up your back. gently, he toys with you; testing different pressures around your neck, tugging at your hair again, wrapping his hand back around both your own.

when you feel the thick weight of him tap against your swollen slit, you cry out softly into the mattress, wiggling your hips back with all your impatience. he runs his length against you, coating himself before teasing at your entrance, and then he hesitates again; as if he's trying to say something, you hear the open and close of his mouth several times before he just swallows, shaking his head before he begins to sink into you.

the stretch has your eyes rolling back in your head, mouth falling open silently as his strained groan fills the room. the sound is music to your ears, and you could almost laugh at how worried you were before all this — if he wasn't seating himself so deep inside of you, making you moan against the sheets.

katsuki hisses out a string of curse words, free hand going to the dip of your waist to pull you back to meet his rough and unsteady thrusts. there's almost no rhythm and he seems to lose it as soon as he finds it, and that paired with how roughly he's breathing is enough to send you over the edge.

it's like he's — desperate, too frenzied to think straight.

you try to muffle your embarrassing whine into the mattress as your thighs shake, as he continuously hits that spot inside of you that brings tears to your eyes. it doesn't deter him in the slightest, only encourages him to fuck you through your orgasm as you scramble a bit on your knees, overwhelmed by the sounds the both of you are making.

it dawns on you distantly, as you come through the haze, that he's actually enjoying this, keeping a firm grip around your hands so that you can't escape. you feel euphoric, elevated to a new high as all your nerves sing.

your throat is dry and you have to swallow several times before you can speak, stuttering, from how hard he's pounding into you. "d'you like this? fucking the—oh—villain you've caught?"

it makes him still, just for a moment, as he runs his hand up your back again, adding pressure just between your shoulder blades and groaning before returning to your hip. "i think you, hah, fuckin' like this," katsuki breathes, grip tightening to a painful degree before he slams into you again, making your toes curl. "getting f-fucked by the hero."

hearing him play along makes your stomach flip, has a drizzle of warm honey spreading up your spine, just like before, as you squirm again under his hands. you feel warm, almost numb to anything except for the weight of him behind you, the pleasure that never stops throbbing between your legs.

you squeal when he angles himself particularly deep, though the sound is nearly drowned entirely out by his groan, the low oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck he chants as his body goes taut and curls over yours. his thrusts grow shallow but never stop, as he cums so hard it almost sounds painful, and he finally takes his hand from both of yours to steady himself against the bed.

you both groan when he pulls out, katsuki falling down beside you on the mattress to catch his breath and blink slowly at the ceiling. he's so red, sweaty and worn out, and you watch him through bleary eyes for a long moment before realizing that he's purposely not looking at you.

it makes you laugh, light and lilted — which screws his face up — as you slump forward, eyes lidding as exhaustion coats you in a thin sheen.

"you're a pervert," katsuki finally mumbles, pushing his hair off his forehead before rubbing his eyes. when you laugh again, he glares at you, but doesn't move away as you shimmy closer.

"what can i say? i'm no match for big and strong dynamight—"

"cut that shit out," he groans, rolling over to bite at your cheek, bearing his weight down on you when you squeal.

"i'll never commit a crime again," you squirm when he pinches at your side, trying to hold on to your words through a fit of giggles. "your incredible hero cock has turned me—"

"you fucking—" he's quick to lean back and flip you over, cradling your face in his hands as he smashes his lips to yours — almost too eagerly.

"katsuki!" you shriek, wiggling beneath him helplessly as he tickles you. he pays you no mind, just continues trying to press kisses into your open mouth until tears are sprouting at your waterline from laughing so hard.

finally, you get reprieve as his hands slip up your body slowly, taking your wrists between his fingers so he can hold them together above your head. he presses his forehead to yours, eyes lidded and relaxed, with the ghost of a smirk on his face, and he murmurs, "it's dynamight to you, missy."

bakugou gets flustered by you and when he does, he places his sweaty palm against your forehead and pushes you back. his face would bloom bright red as he scoffs at you, "you're such a nerd, y'know? go somewhere else." he'd hiss to cover up his feelings.

Katsuki Bakugou has an unspoken list of things you do that makes him fall deeper in love every time you do them.

-When he sees you making coffee for him in the morning in his T-shirt

-When he sees your bare back after you take the T-shirt off to change and his heart swells with pride at how built you’ve gotten from training with him

-When he’s rambling about an insignificant part of his day, not only do you listen and smile but you always ask the best questions and give him the best advice

-When you ramble about some random topic he couldn’t care less about but you make it the most interesting thing in the world because it’s you talking about it

-When you get into a play fight with him overly confident that you’d win just to get pinned to the floor every single time

-When you call him out on his bullshit, especially when he realizes you have different levels of sternness depending on how pissed you are

-When you eat every particle of the meal he just cooked for you. His pride radiates off of him and fills your heart in return

-When he’s fucking you so good you can’t kiss him back or when he’s fucking you so good that your legs start to tremble around him

-When you notice he’s worried you might be hurt during sex because of the tears streaming down your cheeks due to overstimulation and you pull him into a sloppy kiss to tell him everything is fine (you can’t talk in that state)

-When you realize he’s about to cum because his thrusts get more chaotic and you wrap your legs around his hips/waist so tight he can’t help but cum inside you

౨౿ random bf! bakugou katsuki headcanons (part 2) ⸻ bakugou katsuki x gender neutral! reader

contains ! fluff

notes ! i'm back .. school's been kicking my ass </3

we all know he's a good cook... so he will always learn to make your favorite meals

very observant of you, from the words you mutter to the actions you do

he also has a great memory, too, like you were on a date with him at the mall and you kept looking at a necklace that caught your eye, then on the drive home he suddenly gave you that specific necklace...?!?!

he would never ever ever ever EVER cheat on YOU. like cheating fics piss me off.. he is very loyal, he doesn't give you mixed signals, he loves you and ONLY you. why the hell would he bother looking at other people when he has you?!??!

arguments, like serious ones, are rare for the both of you. sure, you both bicker here and there but if ever you both really argue, he refuses to let you sleep without making up

i think he'd be an acts of service kinda guy because i think he believes that actions speak louder than words. thus he doesn't say "i love you" most of the time, but you know he does because of his actions towards you.

i like to think that you're his passenger princess, and he doesn't let anyone sit on the passenger seat of his car 😁 you have more things in his glovebox than he does LOL

after the war, katsuki is sosososo SO much softer.

and he's so good at dealing with your tantrums and little hissy fits. he's so gentle and patient, letting you scream and threaten him cuz he knows none of that shit's true. he does draw the line when you start angry crying though, he hates that, won't sit through it cuz it literally hurts him.

dont get me wrong though, he definitely lets you know when you're being a pain in the ass over nothing. he humbles you, but never tries to embarrass you, or make you feel belittled. he loves you gently and truly, because that's what he unknowingly needed before he met you.

camp stillwater is for lovers | ONE-SHOT

camp stillwater had a bit of a reputation, but it was nothing you hadn't prepared for. or so you thought.

❀ content: eren jaeger x female reader, camp counselor au, smutty and sappy end-of-summer fic, mutual pining, outdoor and semi-public sex, oral sex (m! and f!receiving), 'pretty' used as a pet name, skinny dipping, mentions of alcohol, explicit language, explicit sexual content. reader discretion advised 18+ ❀ word count: ~18k sit down, buckle up, and get yourself a nice beverage ❀ a/n: i actually started writing this over a year ago and happened to stumble upon it again and figured they deserved their happy ending <3

“Dude!”

Eren didn’t register how many ‘dudes!’ it took to get his attention before a sharp elbow jutted into his forearm. His hand slipped out from beneath his jaw, and he would have taken a face full of mashed potatoes if he hadn’t kept the crumb of awareness needed to catch himself first. 

He glared down at the culprit: Falco Grice.

Yes, that was his legal name. Eren checked the records last summer.

Falco, one of Eren’s seven assigned campers, sat by his side at the round table, like always.

“Stop staring. You’re starting to creep me out,” Falco muttered as he set down his fork. Eren could hardly hear him over the drone of background conversation, but there was no mistaking his teenage attitude. That part came through loud and clear. 

“I wasn’t staring. I was—” Eren interrupted himself with a sigh, realizing there was no use in lying.

“We’ve been here for two weeks, and I haven’t seen you talk to her once,” Falco pointed out.

“I talk to her! We talk about,” Eren paused, stuttering over his thoughts. “Things.”

Falco looked amused, his eyebrows sprung high on his forehead. “Oh yeah? Things. That sounds real interesting.”

Eren didn’t sound all that convincing right then, but it was the truth, believe it or not. But even he could admit Falco had a point: summer camp was halfway over, and Eren remained too big of a coward to do anything about his. . . feelings for you. He didn’t know what to call them yet. Falco named it a crush, but that felt too childish to Eren, like he was back in grade school alongside the rest of them, rather than the college-age student he was.

If it wasn’t clear enough already, the duo were talking about you.

Eren never asked for Falco’s ‘advice’ about you. He hoped this went without saying, but he would never take the advice of a thirteen-year-old about this sort of thing. Falco approached him first, like Eren’s love life was such a train wreck that he could no longer sit idle on the sidelines. Apparently, Eren was just that terrible with girls. 

Which was so not true, by the way. Eren did just fine, he liked to think. It had just been a while.

“I could fake drown,” Falco offered as casually as he would ask about the weather. “You know, like when you’re on lifeguard duty. You’d be a hero.”

That just might—

“Please don’t do that,” Eren said before he could go against his better judgment. But that didn’t stop Falco from hamming it up. He draped a hand over his forehead like a damsel in distress, with smooching sounds and everything.

Optically, Eren knew it wasn’t the best idea to flick a camper on his forehead, but he did so anyway. Falco barked, “Ow!” before it melted into a burst of victorious laughter.

Eren carried his emptied (sans the gritty mashed potatoes) plate in one hand and pointed to Falco’s untouched dinner with his other. “Hurry it up, would ya? We’re supposed to head back to the cabin in ten minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Falco grunted before poking around his plate.

To say Eren had a brotherly relationship with his campers would be a stretch, but Falco happened to be the exception—not by Eren’s choice, as he already established.

Falco was a returning camper from last year, meaning he (or perhaps just his parents) chose to dedicate four weeks out of his summer break to sleepaway camp, with Eren as his cabin leader again.

To Eren, the bigger surprise was that he even returned as counselor at Camp Stillwater in the first place. What he initially believed would be a blow-off gig to earn college credit actually turned out to be not so bad, considering he could spend the summer with his two best friends. Sure, Mikasa couldn’t be here this year, what with her change in program and new internship, but Armin made it. And let’s just say that after Eren discovered who filled Mikasa’s position, he forgot about her absence altogether.

It was quite the coveted position, too. For decades now, Camp Stillwater had an infamous reputation back at school for being—well, a fuck-fest. More like a fuck-off fest, if you asked Eren, since it was easy to get away with anything here.

This was only his second year here, but outside of various rumors and a handful of ‘incidents,’ Eren could confidently say the camp wasn’t nearly as horny as the stories made it sound. Then again, he didn’t get involved in those activities last year; he had a girlfriend at home. 

A now ex-girlfriend. 

No need for theatrics about it: the break-up was mutual, overdue, and old news. But if Eren still needed confirmation that he was over his ex, then you were just that.

For the first time since the break-up—maybe even before the break-up—Eren felt something again. Passion, a spark, a stupid crush. Call it what you wanted, but whatever it was, he felt it; this strange, enigmatic thing attracting him to you.

He loved it, this revived sense of infatuation that he hadn’t felt in so long, as much as he absolutely loathed it. 

Eren weaved between tables toward the dish return to find you there first. He recognized you from the back of your head alone—which wasn’t saying much since you were one of the handful of adults in the dining hall. He stalled, weighing his options, hating himself for letting Falco’s words creep under his skin. Why did he feel he had something to prove to a kid?

Before he decided what to do, you acted first, glancing over your shoulder and flickering a smile. You waited until he was another step closer before greeting, “Hi, Eren.”

Restless hands he would typically shove into his pockets busied themselves by reaching for your plate. “Let me get that for you,” Eren said, and those six measly words felt like the greatest challenge he faced all day. Even greater than the screaming girl he had to help down from the rock-climbing wall this morning. 

On your, “Thanks,” your lips parted into a warm smile, and any confidence Eren thought he had began floundering—much like that girl from earlier.

With that, the conversation died, and you went on with your evening.

To Eren, it was still a win. Albeit a small win, but still one for the books. He wanted to prove—not to anyone but himself, he’d decided—that the two of you talked sometimes. And he accomplished just that.

What the hell did Falco know, anyway?

“I saw you talking to Eren in the mess hall tonight,” Hitch said, both too knowingly and too loudly. She blathered on over the roar of her hair dryer. When you tried to tell her you couldn’t hear her, she only shouted, “Huh?”

You weren’t exactly friends, perhaps a smidgen past acquaintances, so you couldn’t predict if she’d see the humor in you unplugging her blow dryer.

Hitch was one of the four female camp counselors here—the others being Sasha, Annie, and yourself. She was the leader of your so-called ‘sister cabin,’ meaning you had the same activity schedules. For better or worse, you spent a lot of time together.

This also meant you couldn’t head back for lights out until she was ready—the buddy system and all that.

You sat patiently on the countertop beside her, watching your feet dangle, catching your shower shoes just before they could slip off your toes. Once that became boring, you began drawing on the mirror’s condensation with your fingers.

As she began wrapping the cord around the hair dryer to pack up, you explained, “I was just saying ‘hi.’”

There wasn’t anything more to it, nothing juicy like she’d hoped for. But juicy or not, you still quieted down when you heard padding feet round the corner shower, just in case. Only after Sasha poked her head out did you return to doodling on the mirror. You finished the last swoop of a smiley face as you said, “I don’t think that counts as talking.” 

Hitched shrugged, making way for Sasha to squeal, “Are you guys talking about Eren?”

Hitch stared the both of you down. In one breath, she confirmed Sasha’s hunch and tried (again) to pry the nonexistent details from you. “He cleared your plate for you. I think that counts as something.”

It unnerved you to know that she—no, she and Sasha had been watching so closely.

You folded your arms tightly against your chest as if to shut her out. “Are you always this nosy?”

She scoffed as Sasha blurted out, “He totally has a thing for you!”

You stiffened. You wished you didn’t, but it happened, and it was so palpable that both girls now eyed you like a pack of hyenas, eager for their next kill. You didn’t know what to say, only that you needed to shut it down.

“He’s just being nice,” you said. But on the inside, you were reeling.

There was no denying that you found Eren attractive. You’d thought so since the moment the camp director, Levi, introduced you to the bunch. He stood on the taller side, at least six feet, by your estimation. Lean but all muscle. With furiously green eyes nestled beneath dark brows, both often hidden behind grown-out hair he constantly pushed back, unless he’d tied it up. 

You’d never considered it seriously before, but to think he might have ‘a thing’ for you, as Sasha put it—let’s just say it changed your perspective on the matter. 

Sasha groaned like you’d caused her physical pain. “Puh-lease tell me you aren’t that stupid.”

“You should just hook up with him. I let Jean finger me behind a cabin last summer,” Hitch said, still as loud as ever. You must have had a visceral reaction—pulled a strange face or widened your eyes until she could see the whites—because she waved you off with, “S’no biggie.”

“She’s right,” Sasha agreed, leaning into you. Her brunette ponytail bounced along with her. “Or, who knows? Maybe you’ll end up like Annie and Armin.”

You didn’t know the pair very well—the least of the lot. They were the cute blonde couple that apparently met last summer and have been inseparable ever since. The only thing you knew for sure was that Armin was far, far more approachable than Annie. He held a native aquatic life program last week down by the lake that you thoroughly enjoyed.

“A little summer fling never hurt anyone,” Hitch sang.

You wanted to tell her she was wrong. They actually made an entire musical dedicated to the many woes of Summer Lovin’. But you ignored her and smeared away the fingerprints you’d left on the mirror. 

You had only known these girls for two weeks, and you had already concluded they were, for lack of a better term, boy crazy. Giggling, batting their lashes, face-sucking-and-fucking boy crazy.

But that didn’t mean you minded it. 

Maybe you would even go as far as to say their insistent lusting managed to stir your own. You were only human, after all. You could only listen to their stories for so long before dreaming up fantasies of your own. Some of which may or may not involve getting railed while away at summer camp. 

You’d keep that bit to yourself, of course. But the thoughts—the feelings, the urges, all brewing hot in your core—were hard to suppress. You’d become increasingly aware of them as the days trickled by, with Hitch’s tune stuck on a loop in the forefront of your mind. A little summer fling never hurt anyone, as fresh as the night she said it, on repeat until it practically drove you up a pine tree. 

So while the others might have thought it odd for you to volunteer to pair with Eren’s cabin for the morning hike, to you, it felt like a necessary first step. You just wished Sasha and Hitch hadn’t made the connection, gawking at you with grins too large for your liking.

The purpose of today’s hike was for the campers to test their knowledge of the ancient practice known as navigating via compass and map. The first group to follow directions correctly would find hidden treasure—though no one had informed you of what the ‘treasure’ was, so you were as curious as the rest. 

All that was to say, your only job was ensuring no one gravely injured themselves between now and the intercom call for lunch. Easy enough.

You walked slowly, purposefully dragging your heels in the dirt, and just like you hoped, Eren hung back with you. You stayed quiet, watching and waiting from a few steps behind until there was enough distance between you and the rest of the group. You couldn’t imagine anything more humiliating than a bunch of middle schoolers overhearing this—your awful, shameless attempt at flirting. Even worse if it ended in a rejection. 

Eren rolled his shoulders in a stretch, and you unabashedly stared at the way the sunrise cast shadows against the flexed veins of his arms.

A small but nagging part of you couldn’t help but wonder if it was too early for this conversation. The birds were chirping, there was still pretty morning dew on the grass, and you were about to ask if this man wanted to fuck you later. There was no way in hell you could go through with this. 

Then you remembered Jean fingered Hitch behind a cabin, and you supposed you just had to take advantage of the opportunities as they arose. 

“Hey, Eren!” you called. 

He stopped, turned, and greeted you with a lop-sided smile. You picked up your pace and Eren fell right into stride.

The path you walked was unkempt, just as nature intended. You mazed through patches of weeds and overgrown roots, around loose stones so you didn’t twist an ankle. Though thinking about it now, it might not be the worst idea. Eren was the only one around to help you. . . 

“I hope you don’t mind being paired up with me,” you said.

“No, not at all,” Eren assured, but it more closely resembled an apology, like he was trying to recall if he’d done something to suggest otherwise. "You surprised me, though. That's for sure."

“Really? How come?” you asked, no longer looking at him sidelong but with eyes boring straight into his. At least, that was what it felt like to Eren. And when you coupled it with your adorable head tilt, he quickly fell apart. 

He jerked his attention down to the path, laser-focusing on one rock in particular, kicking it along with him. “I guess I figured you’d go with Hitch or Sasha.”

“As much as I like them, I’d prefer not to get myself lost in the woods today.” 

Off in the distance (southeast, according to your compass), a shriek echoed through the trees. Your ears perked, but the howls of laughter that followed eased any worry. You began walking together again, picking right up from where you left off. 

“I thought I might actually try to learn something from this trip,” you half-truthed, like reading a compass was the hardest task in the world, and you hadn’t just done it. 

Here’s the thing: you wanted to have a takeaway from summer camp—to learn from him, in a more roundabout sense of the word. You just preferred a more private lesson.

Not so incidentally, you brushed your hand against the back of Eren’s as you hummed, “And you seem like the kind of guy who knows what he’s doing.”

Your voice tried for light and bubbly and succeeded, but the insinuation was a heavy-handed smack to Eren’s face. Were you flirting with him?

He didn’t have the time to answer his own question before you added, “Like, about the forest and stuff. You worked here last summer, right?”

What was he thinking? Of course you weren’t flirting with him.

The whole situation gave him pause. He collected himself to reply only for a soft mhm to come out. Nothing about it was light or bubbly. 

You nodded despite there being nothing to agree on. For a moment, you let the silence between you fizzle. It wasn’t awkward, though; it was thoughtful. Intentional. With each passing second, anticipation wound itself into a tight coil, ready and rearing and hot to spring. And this time, when you bumped your hand against Eren’s, it acted much like a match to sandpaper, trying to draw a spark. 

“You know,” you drawled, “I’d love to hear more about it sometime—get to know each other more.” 

So you were flirting. Eren didn’t have any doubt about it now, even as he struggled to keep up. He felt like he’d been strapped to the world’s worst carnival ride, spun round and round until his head was so dizzy he couldn’t form even the simplest of sentences. Sure. Okay. Sounds good. Even a fucking thumbs up. Everything evaded him.

Luckily for Eren, you did just fine at carrying on the conversation (if this could even be classified as one) on your own. 

“Sasha’s hosting her archery program this afternoon.” There was an unspoken allure to your voice. It made Eren burn from the inside out. “That gives us a free hour after lunch, if you want to hang out in my cabin.”

He hoped to god there wasn’t a flush to his cheeks. 

“Unless you’re busy. . .”

“No, no,” Eren rushed to say. He cleared his throat. “I mean, no, I’m not busy. And yes, I can be there. If that’s what you want.”

You smiled. “If that wasn’t what I wanted, then I wouldn’t have asked, silly.”

Before Eren could think of what to say back, a camper dashed out of the thicket of trees and straight to you, screaming about boys putting cicada shells in her hair.

It was probably best that he couldn’t get a word in, Eren thought, because he had the feeling it wouldn’t have been particularly witty or clever. So he just watched as you hurried to the girl’s aid, left completely baffled by what the hell just happened.

You heard footsteps on the other side of the door. Right on time. Five minutes past the hour, after the campers had already started their trek to archery. Your body responded before your heart could catch up, leaving you light-headed after you sprung for the door.

Blame it on the lack of blood reaching your brain, but you clearly weren’t thinking when you swung the door open. Eren hadn’t knocked yet. He was just about to, with his hand hung frozen mid-air, and it reminded you how you hadn’t given him the chance.

You laughed a little, said, “Hey,” at the same time Eren did, then could only laugh more because what else were you supposed to do?

The door shut behind him, and the heavy sound reverberated through the cabin. The air was taut, practically buzzing with what you could only describe as electricity. Every ba-dum of your racing heart pounded higher in your chest until you could feel it in your ears.

Eren ran a hand through his hair and scratched at the back of his head. His gaze shifted around the cabin tentatively, from the girlish bunks decorated in plushies to the curtains you'd pulled shut minutes ago. Then, finally, his eyes landed on you. 

His lips pulled into a sheepish smile as he asked, “You didn’t ask me to come because you were actually hoping to hear about my time last year, did you?” 

Your laugh was authentic this time. The kind that surprised even you. It tugged at the tension, unraveling the knot you’d let form in your stomach while waiting on Eren.

You’d wondered which option was the most anxiety-inducing: if he did or didn’t show up. But now, standing here on knees that felt more wobbly than you preferred, as he looked at you with a smile your laughter brought about, you were so relieved he was here. 

“As riveting as I’m sure your experience was. . .” You moved toward him, through the air that didn’t feel quite as thick anymore. “No, I wasn’t actually hoping to hear about your time at camp last year.”

While you spoke, you traced up his palm, the inside of his wrists. Along the length of his arm until you could flatten it against his chest, watching how his throat pulsed in response. 

You couldn't think of a time you fooled around in a bunk bed before. A twin bed, plenty of times, but never with another looming inches above your head. This had to be a first, you thought, as you led him to your bed. Eren sat first, drew you into him, and you had to duck before straddling his lap. 

Already, you felt a tingle. It ignited in the lowest part of you and radiated from the tips of your fingers down to your toes. Every fiber of your being had been set ablaze, and he’d hardly touched you yet; he hadn’t even kissed you. 

Right then, you realized how much you’d been thinking about him—like really thinking about him. That the hazy, featureless man you’d imagined fucking against a slippery shower wall had a face, and maybe he had all along. You knew you’d been craving this, but you had no idea as to how desperately your body needed him.

You truly were no better than those other boy crazy girls, were you?

Despite your positioning—his hands on your waist, yours on his shoulders, with your crotch hovering just above his—you kept your mouths apart. You touched everywhere except there, where it counted, with mere centimeters separating you. You watched his eyes scan over your face, studying an expression you couldn’t begin to guess, and it sent a blooming heat through the back of your neck. 

The two of you stayed like that for longer than you should have for only having an hour, even less, to yourselves. Each of you, waiting for the other person to make the first move. Sharing shallow breaths under the crushing weight of wanting, yet fearing you were the one who interpreted this whole situation wrong. As if both of you didn’t very clearly meet here with just one thing on your minds. 

“You’ve—” Eren’s voice sounded lost in his throat. He wrangled it back before continuing, “You’ve done this before, yeah?” 

You didn’t know what this referred to specifically, but you could infer. 

“Yeah,” you replied, tipping your mouth to his. Closer, but still shy of touching. 

Just your one-word answer eased some of Eren’s hesitancy. Sure, he came to Camp Stillwater knowing what happened behind locked doors, even (regretfully) witnessed some of the stories you’d probably heard, but this felt fast. If someone were to ask him how he wound up here with you, like this, he wouldn’t be able to explain it. 

Not that he was complaining. But he needed to know that you knew what you were getting yourself into. 

You sensed he was waiting on you. For you to give the go-ahead. The green light for him to continue his exploring. You didn’t think he’d make the first move without it. 

Your fingers absently toyed with the collar of his t-shirt while you told him, “I want you to kiss me.”

Eren felt each word as they broke over his lips. He could have sworn he tasted them, too. Sweet and warm, with the faintest chill of mint. He safely assumed you must have come straight from lunch to brush your teeth, anticipating him.

The thought alone, shamefully, did something to him. Because here you were, plopped into his lap, looking so pretty that he was already hard, asking for the very thing he’d been fantasizing about over the last two weeks.

Okay, maybe Eren had fantasized about more—a lot more. But right now, you were goddamn perfect. He could only think about how lucky he felt for this. Just this. Even if it never became anything more than this.

The feeling swelled in his chest the longer you looked at him, biting your lip, waiting. But even after you’d been plenty patient, Eren didn’t kiss you. He didn’t even try to. He just looked and looked at you, while you puzzled over what he could possibly be thinking about. You noticed a glint in his irises, as quick as a flash of lightning. There and gone, almost like you’d imagined it if not for the smirk hinting at one corner of his mouth. 

“If you want something.” Eren leaned back. His palms pressed into the mattress behind him, and the springs trilled under the shift in weight. He sat back enough for him to uncomfortably fit below the top bunk. “You should take it.”

Your stomach flip-flopped. The same feeling you get on a rollercoaster, but better. You took his challenge and chased after him. He guided you in with a hand on your back, swirling small encouraging circles against the dip in it.

Eren didn’t mind sitting passenger to you. In fact, he preferred it. He was happy to give into you, let you drive, so long as you brought him along for the ride—wherever it took him.

You perched higher onto your knees, moving with him like there was a string connecting you, with a sort of magnetism, until you were face-to-face, then lips-to-lips. 

A blink-and-you-miss-it pause passed as you learned the feeling of his lips against yours. They were soft; he was soft. As you sank your lips into his, his hand on your side tightened, giving you a squeeze that sent a surge of electricity up your thighs.

He matched you every step of the way, only deepening the kiss after you initiated. Not letting his tongue slip into your mouth until you’d coaxed it out of him with your own. The kiss was slow but deliberate. Attentive, yet you could feel his eagerness in the slight tremble to his fingers, pushing beneath your shirt and trailing along your spine. 

You returned to his lap, settling in to feel him hard beneath you, pressing between your legs. As you ground down onto him, a loan groan bubbled from his throat.

Eren felt his cock twitch in need, straining behind layers of boxer briefs and cargo shorts. It was a true test of willpower for him, but what little composure he pretended to have slipped through his fingers. His hips lifted from the bed, bucking to meet yours as you rocked back and forth. 

The kiss became more desperate then. Much more desperate. With his hands flattened against your back, keeping your bodies melded together, and your fingers tangled and twisted in his hair. You felt every groove and point of his teeth as he drew your bottom lip between them. It pulled a gasp from you that rang in his ears like a reward. He tried to encourage another, stealing a nip at your swollen lip. 

You grabbed a fistful of his shirt, nails scratching at the cheap camp logo printed on the front. You wanted it off. You tugged at the fabric until he got the hint. He yanked it over his head in one quick movement before bringing his lips back to you.

Eren’s mouth dragged hot breath from your jaw to your ear. His voice was husky, almost a whisper, when he asked you, “This okay?”

He punctuated with a warm hand slipping around your front, exceedingly close to the underwire of your bra. On your nod, he ventured higher, with his thumb scraping against the cup, bending it back. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses along the side of your neck, rolling your nipple between his fingers until you whined against his ear. 

Eren took you by the shoulders, putting an arm’s length between you so he could remove your shirt. You felt more like a rag-doll than human, flopped around with your head lagging on a second’s delay. You blinked the spins away, outstretching your arms so he could toss your shirt over your head and into the accumulating pile on the floor. 

Your gaze dropped to Eren’s face, cupped between your hands, cheeks warm and alive beneath your palms. You both breathed hard, uneven breaths, chests heaving like you’d just finished a marathon—his sporting a telling flush that matched the one spanning the bridge of his nose and complementing his eyes. 

You gently traced your finger over his lips, still wetted from your kiss, and you felt the moment they pulled into a smile, replicating the one spreading across your face. All you could think about—all you wanted to do was kiss him again. 

You folded over top of him, doing exactly as you wanted, kissing him wherever you pleased. You could smell the summer on his skin, taste it as you kissed and licked and sucked your way from the tip of his jaw down his chest. You were conscious about not leaving marks, or at least you thought you were. Faint hickeys bloomed every time you just couldn’t help yourself, when you would discover a spot—one behind his ear, another in the dip of his collarbone—that made his breath stutter heavily in his throat.

The hand he had on your ass gripped harder, bearing you down on him. You slithered a hand between you, smoothing over his tight stomach, and reached to undo the button of his shorts, then the zipper next. 

You laid against his chest, still kissing at his neck as you palmed his cock through his boxers. Eren groaned, low and breathless, as you felt him throb against your hand. When he released his grip on you, you expected him to tear his shorts off entirely. But he had you flipped onto your back instead, so quickly that you yelped as your back hit the mattress. 

Eren leaned over you, a lazy grin painted on his face, as he slipped your shorts down your legs. He ran a hand through his hair, catching the strays that fell into his face so he could get a better view of you. He kept your panties on and in place, dipping a daring finger below the band and running it along your belly. It tickled. Your hips wiggled in response, and his grin only grew. 

He thumbed over the damp spot on your underwear, feeling your clit just beneath the fabric. Just a tad more pressure elicited a moan from you, and your head lurched from the bed. You sat back on your forearms, watching him rub away the tension that had amassed between you, alleviating the aching of your insides and melting it into headless pleasure. 

You darted a hand to touch him too, asking, “Did you bring a condom?” 

“Shit.” Eren’s head dropped, hair falling back into its rightfully messy place. “No.”

He had a million other things on his mind. Of course, he’d forget the condom.

Now that you mentioned it, he didn’t even bring condoms to camp. But he was sure Jean or Connie had some. Eren would worry about how to ask for them later, but for now, he promised, “I can get one for next time.”

You angled your head in that cute way you often did. “Next time?” 

Eren’s face paled. Out of the goodness of your heart, you only let him stammer for a second before cutting him off with a laugh. “Next time sounds good.” Relief washed over him in an instant, his thumb resuming its circling. You sighed, nestling into the sheets. “I guess this is pretty nice.”

He gave you that lop-sided smile again, and it made your heart somersault. He tipped his chin closer into you. “Yeah?” 

Eren’s lips had barely brushed yours when there was a knock at the door. The loud sound of a persistent little fist. With a startle, you sprang away from him and slammed your head on the top bunk. 

“Fuck!” you cursed way too loudly. 

At the thunk alone, Eren winced like he’d done it himself and reached for you. “Are you—”

“Yeah,” you hissed in pain. You swatted his hand, then immediately regretted it. “Sorry. I’m just—I’m fine.” 

He didn’t believe you, but couldn’t do anything about it because there was another set of knocks. Whoever was on the other side called your name, asking, “Are you in there? Why is the door locked?” 

Muttering a chant of curses—shit, shit, shit!—you clumsily pulled your shorts back up, nearly tumbling off the bed as you went. Ignoring the pounding in the crown of your head, you scrambled to put on your shirt as you called out, “Just a second!”

You mouthed, “Hide!” to Eren and waved for him to duck under the blankets. It didn’t solve much, he was still very much there, but it was better than nothing.

You skittered to the door, unfastened the rusted lock, and opened it just wide enough for you to squeeze through the gap. Gabi stood before you, hands on her hips, as you shut the door behind you. 

“Sorry, I was changing,” you said. Your voice sounded far gone, and you tried your best to find it before asking, “What’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Sasha?” 

“Zofia didn’t believe that I have this scrunchie in every color. I needed to prove her wrong,” she said matter-of-factly. She held out the scrunchie as evidence before shoving it back into her pocket. 

You exhaled, hard. “That’s no reason to go wandering off by yourself. You’re bunkmates—show them to her later.” You set your hands on her shoulders and spun her around. “Here, let me walk you back to archery.”

“Fine,” she grumbly agreed.

You waited until she was just far enough to not notice when you poked back inside the cabin. You scooped your shoes in one hand and whisper-shouted, “Sorry!”

“It’s—” Eren watched the door slam shut, “okay.” 

He sat there, alone. Blinking, disoriented, and unbelievably horny. Praying that there would still be a next time. When he could only assume the coast was clear, he got himself dressed and snuck out the back door. 

“So.” Falco paused, wholly absorbed in tying off the string bracelet he’d made. “Did you kiss her?”

Eren’s eyes widened. If he’d been drinking water, he would have probably even done a spit take. Again, how was this any of Falco’s business? 

A minute ago, Falco not-so-offhandedly mentioned he saw you and Eren hiking together the other day. Eren told him to mind his own bee’s wax and hoped that would be the end of it. He should have known that wouldn't stop the nosy punk.

He visibly prickled, thinking about that day, with you. 

Falco took it personally. “Sheesh, I was just asking.” He gave up on the bracelet, sighing defeatedly before handing it to Eren. “Can you tie this for me?” 

Eren plucked the bracelet from him in quiet agreement. He felt slightly guilty for giving a kid the silent treatment, even if it was deserved. As he fiddled with the tiny strings, he tried to think of how to phrase this in grade school terms. If kissing was all the way, then. . .

“We,” Eren mulled over his choice of words, “held hands.”

Falco laughed. He cackled! Snorting, “Seriously?” in a way that made Eren feel ashamed despite being the adult in the situation—which only made him feel worse. 

Eren flung the tied bracelet at Falco. “What do you know about girls, anyway? You’re, like, twelve.”

“Thirteen,” Falco corrected, though he was well-aware Eren knew his age. 

The two sat at a picnic table, the same one Eren had been seated at all afternoon, crafting bracelets because that was his post for the day. 

Let him repeat that: he had been making bracelets for the entire afternoon. So many that he thought his fingers would fall off by the time Falco asked for his help. Eren wanted to complain about it but couldn’t; there were definitely worse internships out there.

Falco rose from the table and sorted through the small pile of bracelets beside Eren—because he had been making them all afternoon. He picked his presumable favorite, with white and turquoise strings, and extended it to Eren. 

“Give her this,” he said. “I gave one to Gabi the other day, and she hasn’t taken it off since.”

Eren didn’t budge. “I’m not giving her a stupid string bracelet.” 

“‘Cause your plan,” Falco used air quotes around the word ‘plan,’ “is going so much better.”

Eren reminded himself who he was talking to and bit his tongue. “Fine, okay. I’ll give her the bracelet.”

It was a lie, but it was enough for Falco. He walked away with a satisfied grin. Just in time for the dinner bell to chime, and for Eren to finally escape the beating sun. 

The short walk to the dining hall was the first breather Eren had to himself in hours. He clung to it, slowing to a stroll as campers rushed by, calling one another out for races. He messed with the bracelet Falco handed him—one of the many Eren had made, but the only one he hadn’t left behind.

Eren wished things were as easy as Falco made them sound. As easy as giving you this bracelet and holding your hand—actually holding hands—and it meant the two of you were together. But you’d done much more than that, and somehow Eren felt more clueless than ever. He hadn’t even had a chance to talk to you since everything happened. 

That didn’t mean he’d stopped thinking about it, about you, almost to an insufferable degree. 

Take last night, for example: Eren lied awake in his bunk, restless, tortured by thoughts of you—though the camper with the nasty snoring habit didn’t make sleep come any easier.

The afternoon played in Eren’s mind on repeat like an old cassette tape he could rewind again and again. But the longer he listened, the more it started sounding like a bad, broken record. Agonizing over what he should or shouldn’t have done—if he came on too strong or, rather, if he didn’t try enough. Were his hands in the right places as he held you close? Did you like how he touched you—how he kissed you? 

Even thinking about it now, Eren could still feel your weight in his lap; the backs of your thighs pressing against the tops of his, letting the heat of your body spill into him like a flood. The softness of your mouth against his, and your hand working over his—

“Whatcha got there?”

He jumped when you appeared from his peripheral vision. Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice and continued smiling at him as you asked, “Did you make that?”

Eren’s heart dropped into his stomach, maybe even deeper. There was no chance Falco’s plan would work. It would only result in him making a fool of himself in front of you, he was sure.

“No, um, Falco made it,” he lied in an attempt to hide his panic. “For you, actually.” 

Your eyes lit up as you took the bracelet from him and began inspecting it. “For me?” 

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I think he was too shy to give it to you.” 

A giggle escaped you when you replied, “Seems like someone has a crush. Cute.”

Your airy cadence almost convinced him otherwise, but Eren believed you spoke to him directly. Like this was no longer about Falco.

He felt trapped under your quicksand gaze, struggling to sense if you saw through his bumbling excuse of a lie, and he’d been found out. 

But even if he managed to come up with something to say, no matter how brilliant, he wouldn’t have been able to speak it. Standing there in the sun’s fading light, you’d taken his breath away. Washed in shades of vibrant pink, of pale Dreamsicle orange, you looked more like a painting than a person. 

Beautiful.

“Yeah,” Eren said under his breath, so quietly that even he wasn’t sure he meant to say it aloud. “A crush.”

“I hope you’re not jealous,” you teased. You returned the bracelet before extending your wrist to him. “Here. Tie it on for me.” 

As much as he never wanted to tie another bracelet in his life, he supposed once more wouldn’t kill him. Only for you, though.

The sensation of his fingertips ghosting your skin drummed up memories of the other day, and you imagined them skating along your spine. You retracted your hand just as Eren finished, hoping to hide the goosebumps he’d left behind.

“Levi’s hosting tonight’s event, right?” you asked, if not for conversation’s sake alone, then for confirmation he would be there tonight, in Cabin #9. 

Late after dinner, the campers would circle around the fire pit for s’mores and a scary story—a Camp Stillwater classic, as you learned. They did this every year, apparently. The only thing that made this year different was. . . 

“Yeah.” Eren paused on a small chuckle. “Did you see that ridiculous costume Hange brought?”

Hange was the activity director here at Camp Stillwater and the mastermind behind tonight’s plan to spice up this age-long tradition. When Hange explained the plan to jump out at the end of Levi’s story, Jean and Connie took bets on how many kids would pee themselves.

Honestly, you didn’t think Levi even knew about it, or else he probably would have locked Hange in a supply closet and burned the god-awful costume for good measure. You couldn’t wait to hear about it tomorrow. 

While that chaos ensued, the camp counselors would enjoy a night of their own, spent in Cabin #9. Unlike the other eight that had wildlife-themed names—like Badger or Mallard, or yours: Chickadee Cabin—this was just the spare cabin they used to house necessities like toilet paper and extra first aid kits. Where there were practically no risks for interruptions. 

“Unfortunately, I did, which means I will be actively avoiding the fire pit for the foreseeable future,” you said, joining in on Eren’s laugh. You rested your hand in the crook of his arm as if you'd done it a million times before, and the muscle flexed under your unexpected touch. “So, I guess that means I’ll be seeing you tonight?” 

It was the vocal equivalent of a wink, your question. You made it known you were very much anticipating seeing Eren tonight—thank god. And though he more than felt the same, he could only affirm it with a nod and a short, “Tonight.”

Eren watched you head into the dining hall but decided not to follow. Instead, he ducked away for a breather; he needed to walk around for a minute and cool off his thoughts. 

Cabin #9 looked like the rest except for the sheets missing from the beds. It also carried this vacant sort of smell that reminded you of a basement. But with the eight of you sitting around, you soon forgot the weird smell. Laughter replaced the emptiness, warmed and spirited by wine and a bottle of Scotch Jean had apparently been snitching from. 

It was easy to imagine how innocent rounds of cards quickly regressed into strip poker. But that game lasted even shorter, considering only a handful of you knew how to play. The final nail in the coffin was when Annie had to remove an article of clothing, and Connie weirdly suggested her socks, of all things. You swore she was about to sock him straight in the jaw before Armin stepped in (no pun intended).

The only rightful progression from there was to move onto seven minutes in heaven—because unlike strip poker, there was no way that could go wrong.

As the game goes, everyone would shove the chosen couple into the bathroom, where they had seven minutes to do as they pleased with one another. The remaining had to promise to keep themselves distracted, that they most definitely wouldn’t listen in on the action from the other side of that shabby door. 

While everyone argued and pointed fingers over who should have to go first, Sasha corralled you and Eren into the bathroom together and shut the door behind you, probably leaning with her back against it to keep you locked inside. 

Though these weren’t the circumstances you would have picked for this conversation, you were glad to have the next seven minutes alone to address the elephant looming in the supply bathroom. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but Eren’s voice came out, telling you, “I’m sorry about the other day. For, you know, being weird and stuff.” 

You didn’t know why he was apologizing. For reasons out of his control—Gabi, the stars being out of alignment, or perhaps it was merely a case of the wrong place, wrong time—the afternoon was weird. But none of it was his fault. If anything, you expected to be the one apologizing for running out on him. 

With a shake of your head, you said, “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry I was weird and left without saying anything.” 

There was a beat of silence you spent fiddling with your hands while he kept his buried in his pockets. But even then, you couldn’t help but crack a giggle, just at the sheer absurdity of the situation you’d found—no, put yourselves in. 

“I’m just glad to see you made it back to your cabin all right,” you jested, one final blow to the tension between you. 

Eren swallowed down the saliva that’d grown thick in his throat and gave a soft laugh. You had this wonderful way about you, he was learning. This innate talent for rendering him breathless, wordless, thoughtless—every -less in the book. And yet, at the same time, just a wisp of your smile, a giggle, had him breathing easy again. Suddenly, he couldn’t remember the nights he’d spent agonizing over you, only how foolish he’d be to pass up this chance to be close to you again.

The space between you was tight enough for him to near you in only a step. He tilted his chin to smile down at you.

“Despite the painfully awkward boner I had tucked into my waistband,” he chuckled. “Yes, I made it back to my cabin all right.”

You snorted a laugh. “Oh, I’m so sorry to have abandoned you in such a state. However will I make it up to you?” 

“You don’t have to do anything, but. . .” That wasn’t to say he would mind a kiss. 

Eren’s voice trailed off as his fingers locked around your belt loops to pull you even closer. He bent, trailing his nose down the slope of yours. Your heart instantly fluttered. 

“We still don’t have any condoms,” you whispered against his mouth. Close, but still not touching. “Not like seven minutes is much time, anyway.”

Eren’s fingers toyed with your belt loops. Your hips moved with a slight swivel between his hands, but his eyes didn’t leave you once. They looked greener in the dark, somehow. “That’s okay. I actually wanted to—”

You interrupted him with a kiss, straight on his lips. Then it was the corner of his mouth, his jaw, and onto his neck, where you could feel his pulse point jump beneath the press of your mouth. 

—Talk to you about something. 

But this was okay, too. More than. 

You pushed a hand beneath his shirt and splayed it across his stomach. He felt your palm travel lower and lower, where he was already half-erect just from being this close to you and the promise of no interruptions (for approximately six minutes and some change). 

Your voice was a humid murmur, hot against his skin when you asked, “Want me to give you head?”

If Eren believed his brain was malfunctioning before, then this was a full-system meltdown. Like he had short-circuited and his boy brain took over. 

He nodded dumbly. “Yeah, sure.”

Your hand made quick work of his shorts, then snuck beneath his boxers to touch him for real this time. Your fingers glided along his length, so teasingly that you felt him jolt against your palm, before you took him into a gentle grasp. Your other hand stretched the neck of his shirt so you could kiss his collarbone, where you remembered he liked.

Eren let his eyes flit shut. He lost himself in your touches, the feeling of your soft fingers wrapping around him to jerk him off. He completely forgot the conversation he hoped to have with you tonight—the one about his feelings and what not.

Hell, he even forgot your promise of a blow job until he finally opened his eyes to see you staring up at him, with your neck stretched and chin resting on his chest. Eren blinked to steady his vision and watched as you sank to your knees, dragging his shorts down with you. 

You captured his gaze, holding onto it even as you fingered his waistband. You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth in anticipation, tugging at his boxers so slowly that once they sat low enough on his waist, you’d created enough tension for his cock to spring out. It hung heavy before you, centimeters away from your lips, and saliva pooled on the back of your tongue. You lapped at him, properly spreading your spit over his length. A gruff sound left him, placated by your wet tongue, for now, but still in desperate need of more. 

Perching higher on your knees, you laid one hand against Eren’s thigh while the other aligned the head of his cock with your open mouth. Your lips stretched around the thick of him, wider as you pulled a breath in through your nose, preparing to take more of him. 

With every bob of your head, his cock reached deeper, nearing the opening to your throat. You sucked and swallowed around him until he was good and sensitive, the underside of his cock throbbing against your tongue, encouraging you to keep going. 

Your mouth on him felt like the closest thing to heaven he could imagine. Warm and wet and snug around him. Slick as you swirled your tongue in tandem with your hand. It squeezed and slipped, up and down, up and down, slathering your saliva down the base of his cock. 

Heat began emanating from the low part of his stomach, scattering throughout every part of him in frissons. And while you were the one on your knees in front of him, Eren felt he ought to be worshiping you. 

“Fuck, that’s good,” Eren groaned, his breath hitching before picking up. “You’re good—really fucking good at that.” 

His voice, all low and growly, dripping with indulgence, made you aflutter. You hummed in acknowledgement, warming to his praise. He must have felt it, the subtle vibration in your throat, because his thigh flexed beneath your palm, and his hand quickly sought the top of your head for extra support. 

As the countdown ticked by, you knew someone could interrupt at any minute, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. In that moment, you attuned yourself to Eren and only him, with eyes dedicated to him as you sucked his cock, now for your mutual pleasure it seemed. 

You felt like butter, and he the hot knife, melting you into a puddle right at his feet. He would curse and tell you what a good job you were doing; pet the crown of your head or caress your cheek. He did everything you would never expect from a quick bathroom blow job—up until you had the entirety of him in your mouth, with the tip of your nose buried in the soft tuft of hair on his stomach. Then he had to stop to muffle himself with his forearm. 

You thought you might gag. Out of fear of anyone hearing you, you pulled yourself off him with a sputter and a shameful amount of drool. You wiped yourself dry(-ish) with the back of your wrist, then rushed to replace your mouth with strokes of your hand. When you glanced up at him, you found a certain softness in his eyes, hidden behind his lust-laden lids. 

As talented as you were with your mouth—and your hands and your tongue—Eren finally felt he could let out a much-needed exhale. Yes, he wanted to come. Of course, he wanted that. But what he needed was clarity, to pull himself together. Not to mention, the thought of figuring out where he should finish—or unexpectedly doing so—freaked him out. 

Eren swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Actually, wait. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” 

He hooked his arms beneath yours and helped you onto your feet. Noting the tremble to your legs, he held you by your shoulders, keeping you at a small distance if not for temptation alone.

Tonight on his walk to Cabin #9, Eren had vaguely planned what he wanted to say to you. But whatever he had scraped together was lost on him the moment you put his dick in your mouth. To try to remember any of it now would be useless. 

Between Eren’s ragged breaths, he began his ‘confession’ with, “I think about you a lot.” 

You angled your head. “Oh?” 

He realized how that sounded, especially when said in this position. “Wait, not like that. Well, sorta—but like, not in a weird way.” He felt like a goddamn idiot, with his pants quite literally around his ankles. “Ah, hold on a second.”

Eren yanked his shorts back up. “What I’m trying to say is—” He huffed in a fluster. “I’m trying to say that I—”

The door flung open. Both you and Eren stiffened under the shock of bright light. 

“Time’s up!” Connie shouted, grinning from ear to ear at the sight laid out before him. It wasn’t as X-rated as it could have been if he’d burst in just a minute earlier, but it was still pretty compromising, at least for Eren, standing there with his pants undone. And you didn’t even want to know how your hair looked. 

With one swing of his arm, Eren elbowed Connie out of the bathroom and slammed the door. Even with a door between you, you could hear everyone’s amusement as plain as day. Oohs and aahs and fits of giggles. Humiliation engulfed you like a cloak, leaving you unable to do anything but cover your steaming-hot face and laugh. 

Eren laughed, too. He couldn’t restrain it because, frankly, the only word that could describe this experience was laughable. You were zero for two in successful hook-ups, and it wasn’t looking like the odds were in your favor with your knack for interruptions, even if this time should have been expected. 

Eren caught your wrists, guiding them away from your face so he could see you and your breathless smile. As you collected yourself, Eren picked up the pieces from where he’d left off.

“What I was trying to say was—”

“Oh my god. Are you guys fucking in there?”

It wasn’t Connie this time, but Hitch. She busted in with her foot in the air like she’d kicked in the door. She grabbed you by the wrists, not nearly as gently as Eren had, and dragged you out of the bathroom. You looked back at Eren apologetically, ignoring Hitch’s complaints. 

“Other people want to play! Don’t make it gross in there for the rest of us,” she barked.

What was Eren trying to tell you? Your heart pounded at the thought—that, or you were still coming down from the thrill that was seven minutes in heaven. 

But when you turned to look for him, after Hitch had freed you from her clutches, he was no longer there. You spun around the room only to realize you wouldn’t get to know what Eren wanted to tell you. He was gone. 

As you predicted, Levi was pissed after the stunt Hange pulled at the bonfire. And it wasn’t just him. A single pair of pants were pissed as well, meaning Jean won his bet against Connie.

Gabi made sure to include every detail, recounting the night with tears in her eyes, choking on her laughter and breakfast sausage. You’d only known the girl for a handful of weeks—though it felt like a lifetime after spending countless hours cramped in the same cabin—but that was more than enough time for you to learn she was quick-witted. Extremely so. She’d mastered her craft by the age of thirteen, and no one was off limits, yourself included. It was no surprise she found last night’s events nothing short of hilarious.

In fact, you’d argue she was too perceptive, always asking the sort of questions you didn’t know how to answer. You couldn’t blame her, just like you couldn’t blame the rest of your campers for their healthy dose of curiosity when it came to college life. Even if it did occasionally toe the line into nosiness.

But out of the millions of questions they threw at you, the one that you expected the least came on the very last day of camp, asked by none other than Gabi herself. 

“Are you going to date Eren when you go back to school?” 

This was what you meant when you said she was curious. 

You stopped dead in your tracks, eyes bugged and searching for the source of the voice. Gabi leaned out the cabin window with this devious grin on her face, propped between her hands as she waited for your answer. Did she really need to shout it out the window?

You shuffled over, chuckling awkwardly as you asked, “What are you talking about?” 

Her eyes narrowed in interest, like you had fallen into her trap.

“Falco told me he has a crush on you,” Gabi said, deadpan. “And you have a crush on him, soooo. . .”

You put your hands on your hips. “Who said I have a crush on him?” 

Gabi pulled this you’ve gotta be kidding me face with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Whatever.”

She ducked back into the cabin as the realization hit you—when you finally caught the first part of what she said. 

“Wait!” you called after her. 

You sprinted around the cabin, meeting her as she emerged from the front door. She had her belongings in tow, dragging her suitcase along the gravel as you asked, “How does Falco know he has a crush on me?”

You hated how you allowed your interest, your urgency, to seep through. You hated even more how Gabi’s keen self detected it; the glint of satisfaction in her eyes was as clear as day. But that was all she gave you. She continued on toward the parent pickup lot, waving a hand high over her head but never looking back as she yelled, “See you next summer!” 

Was that what Eren wanted to tell you the other night? That had to be it. 

To think, he might have been trying to muster the courage to ask you out, and all the while, you were asking to suck him off. 

You should have seen this coming. After all, Sasha did say Eren had ‘a thing’ for you. But back then, she could have meant anything by it. She could have meant he just wanted to fuck and leave it at that, and you probably would have been okay with it—back then.

Now, you felt much differently about everything, about him. You glanced at your wrist, down at the bracelet Falco had made for you. Supposedly. You had no reason to doubt it before, but now, you had one big flashing-in-your-face reason. 

Just like that, as quick as a flip of a switch, you saw the bracelet in a new light. You looked at it and thought of Eren, the expression that crossed his face when he went to tie it on for you. Unreadable then, but thinking about it now, it made sense, didn’t it?

Before it was too late and Levi had locked up for the season, you hurried to the craft building to check for any leftover string. 

You couldn’t have known this, but on the far side of camp, Falco had a similar parting conversation with Eren. Unprompted, as always, and never when Eren wished—not that he ever wished to have these types of talks.

Falco was the last camper in Coyote Cabin after unpacking and repacking his suitcase three times, fighting to get it shut. 

“How is it you’re leaving with more than you brought?” Eren huffed as he wrestled with the stubborn zipper. “You’re supposed to lose things at camp. Haven’t you seen the lost and found?” 

Falco took the question literally and thought aloud. “Let’s see. I painted a t-shirt for myself. Then I painted another one for my mom. . .” Each bit and bob he’d scavenged over the month he ticked off on his fingers, contentedly sitting atop his suitcase to weigh it down. “By the way, your girlfriend has been acting super weird around me the last few days. Like she wants to pinch my cheeks—what’s with that?”

Ugh. As if you weren’t on his mind enough already.

With a final yank, Eren sealed the suitcase. He rose to his feet with a sigh. “She’s not my girlfriend. I thought you of all people would know that.” Eren extended a hand to Falco and helped him up, knowing the next thing he’d say was, “And I might have told her you have a crush on her.”

“Seriously?”Falco cried. “She’s old enough to be my mom!”

Eren clicked his tongue. “We’re not that old.”

“Well, you better do something before you are that old. At this rate, you’ll be a grandpa before she even knows you like her!”

Again, even if Eren didn’t like hearing it, Falco had a point. Time after time, he had perfect opportunities lined up to make his interest known. Plenty of them, practically handed to him on a silver platter. And what did he do? He blew them, each and every one.

Correction: He almost blew every chance. He still had tonight, before you would return to the reality of classes and part-time jobs that didn’t involve wiffle ball and craft time. 

The last car drove past the horizon and out of sight, officially signaling the end of summer camp—for everyone except the eight camp counselors remaining, the tents they’d brought from home, and the beer they’d kept stuffed under their bunks. Yes, everything had been locked tight, but earlier Sasha snagged some ice for drinks and whatever scraped-together leftovers she could manage, enough for one last feast around the fire. Outstretched before you was a wonderful and well-deserved, lazy evening, spent doing all the activities you wished you could have been doing for the last month.  

For you, that meant enjoying Stillwater Lake without the looming threat of having to rescue a kid from another vicious seaweed attack. Getting warm and drunk by nightfall, and rounding out your perfect day by sharing your sleeping bag with one person in particular. 

Connie stumbled upon a forgotten frisbee on the walk over. He tossed it high over your head, back and forth between Eren and Jean in the opening that gave way to the lake. You gathered along its edge, and it only took a few dipped toes and exclamations about the temperature (‘It’s like bathwater!’) before everyone had kicked off their shoes and socks to wade around in the water.

But that didn’t mean the day was all strolling and sniffing roses. While the water was as still as its namesake, your thoughts, your heart—you were anything but. Restless, if you had to name the feeling. Fueled off stolen glances along, each too long yet still longer than the last.

There was tension between you and Eren, the good kind. The hope for nothing to turn into something, and soon. It’d been there for weeks. The limited time you’d spent together only amplified the tension, dialing it up to a noticeable ten. And it wasn’t just Eren who couldn’t keep his eyes off you but everyone else, watching both you and Eren, the two idiots caught in the throes of it—whatever ‘it’ was.

You said that as though you were merely an innocent bystander, like everyone else had a severe case of the wandering eye but not you. If anything, you were the biggest offender. 

You knew you shouldn’t stare, but it was hard not to when all you could think about was Eren. Eren and the lake and how good he unfortunately looked while swimming in the lake. With eyes that matched the water, and shoulders that had baked all summer and turned brilliantly sun-kissed and freckled. 

He caught you, numerous times, but it wasn’t like you were trying to hide it. You wanted him to return your glances, and he always did. Welcoming each one and leaving you with more questions than you had the second before—what was he thinking?

So fucking pretty. 

Not exactly waxing poetic, if that was what you’d expected.

Yeah, he was lucky you couldn’t hear his thoughts. 

But thoughts would only have the two of you running in circles; they accomplished nothing. At some point, you’d need to actually act on them. You could only maybe later yourself so many times before there would be no ‘later.’ You had to accept the fact that there was no perfect time and the blatant staring and the way your palms started sweating whenever you thought about it for too long, like you were doing right now. 

When you finally approached Eren, it was after the sun looked like it had sunk into the lank. All day, it stayed hidden behind an overcast sky, until the very last moment, now, when the clouds decided to split. You had to squint to get a good look at him. 

“Hey.”

Your own voice surprised you. How embarrassing. You didn’t know why you were so nervous around him, like it had happened overnight—even faster than that. You thought you had control here, at least a semblance of it, but even that had dissolved. You stood before him on legs that felt nervy and numb, somehow at once, twiddling a bracelet between your hands that now felt incredibly silly.

“Hey,” Eren said back. His eyes shifted down to the bracelet, then back up to your face, and the corners of his mouth hitched into a smile. Well, there was no turning back now, was there?

“Hey—I mean,” you laughed a little, and it sounded painful. You loosened a breath before meeting his eyes. Cool like the turquoise string in the matching bracelet you had made him, yet there was a twinkle of warmth that you found intoxicating. “I was thinking, it’s not a real friendship bracelet if I don’t have anyone to match with.”

Eren’s closed-mouth smile grew to a real one, and so grew your confidence. Enough for you to add, “And I couldn’t catch Falco before he left, so I figured you would do.”

His eyebrows flicked up in amusement. “Oh, I see how it is. I’m the last resort, huh?”

“No, you’re my second choice. My last resort is Connie.”

“I won’t tell him you said that.” 

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Now, are you going to accept my friendship or not?” 

“‘Course.” Eren gave you his hand, the wear and tear of camp evident along the grooves of his knuckles. “Except you have to tie it on for me.”

You did just that, looping the bracelet around his wrist and knotting the end a few times. From behind, you could hear Jean and Annie arguing over the most efficient way to start a fire. No one was paying you or Eren any mind, but just in case, you hushed your voice.

“You should come to my tent later,” you whispered, tilting your gaze up at him. “After everyone’s asleep.”

Eren’s smirk made the back of your neck hot. “Should I bring my sleeping bag?”

“No need. I’m happy to share.” 

That enthusiasm toward sharing died a little when Eren scared you later that night. Staffing had powered everything down for the season—and you meant everything. No lamps, nothing. Without the campfire, the night was pitch black. Eren had no choice but to shine his flashlight to find his way to you, lest he wished to trip over firewood.

The zipper squealed as Eren pulled back the corner of your tent. You sprang upright in alarm, heart thudding against your ribcage like it might burst. As more light poured inside, you finally made out his silhouette. 

“God, you scared me,” you exhaled with a hand clasped over your chest. 

The laugh that rattled through him had you doubting the sincerity of his, “Sorry,” and made it sound more like he’d done it on purpose. He ducked to crawl through the door before closing it again, sealing in the charred scent of citronella candles inside with him. 

“Come here already,” you said, scooting to make room for him beside you. 

You realized it was a tight squeeze for two—or rather, you realized how large he was when sitting inside your sorry excuse of a tent. It wasn’t nearly as spacious as you had anticipated when imagining inviting him in for a nightcap. 

That was okay, though. You didn’t need much room. As long as the both of you could fit, even semi-comfortably. . . 

You took his face into your hands and captured Eren’s lips in a kiss. Then another one. You kissed him again, and you kissed him with tongue, and he tasted like dessert. Like honey and cinnamon graham crackers from the s’mores you had toasted around the fire. You indulged for a moment, kissing him slowly, as if to pretend you had all the time in the world, and there wasn’t only thin nylon separating you from the great outdoors. 

You dragged him toward you, over top of you, as you collapsed back into the warm press of your sleeping bag where you once lay. From there, things escalated, fast. You had already been here before. 

Every touch was heavy with need and nowhere near as cautious as before. Your fingers weaved themselves into his hair, pulling him close. His hands wedged between your back and the ground, flattening your body to his, pulling you even closer. 

Eren nuzzled into the curve of your neck, inhaling the thickly sweet smell of bonfire in your hair, mixed with one that was uniquely you. He remembered the sounds you made when he kissed your neck, right there, in the dip beneath your jaw, and he needed to hear them again. His mouth was reckless, insatiable, like he didn’t want to savor you but eat you whole. 

You arched your neck, giving him the expanse of it to do with as he pleased. But what he was really after was still out of reach. He sat back just enough to throw your arms above your head and slipped off your shirt. He could hardly see you, made up of shadows from faint moonlight that cast through the tent, but he didn’t need to see to know you were bare below him. 

Eren ran a large hand down your chest, catching your nipple and squeezing your breast. You let out a whimper, but his lips were quick to smother the sound. His mouth was hot against yours, his tongue licking into your open and desperately willing mouth. It was messy yet intentional, had your skin prickling despite the accumulation of sweat on the nape of your neck. It left you chasing after him, never breaking the kiss once, as he rolled to your side. 

He propped himself onto his elbow to lean over you. His other hand ventured from your sternum to your stomach, his fingertips sparking little flames everywhere he touched.

Eren had to feel his way through the dark, focusing on how you’d tense and wiggle in anticipation, blind to every one of his unpredictable touches. He reached down between your legs to discover you wore only a pair of underwear to bed. He grinned into the kiss, knowing you most likely underdressed for the sticky nighttime air, but believing you had done it for his ease alone.

Your legs spread for his hand to nestle between. He cupped your clothed pussy, rubbing the lips with enough pressure to have your hips bearing down on his palm, aching for even more. 

“Your fingers. Please,” you murmured against his mouth, deliciously breathy. “I wanna feel them.”

Eren sat a bit higher. He tucked your panties into the crease of your thigh and traced your slit. You shuddered, awakening to the feeling of his fingers gliding along your wetness, collecting it, before pushing his middle finger inside of you. Your mouth fell ajar. You couldn’t kiss him any longer, only hopelessly pant into his mouth, breathing his air as he dragged his finger in and out of you. 

“How’s that?” Eren asked, his voice lower than you remembered and teeming with desire. “Feel good?”

You nodded even though he wouldn’t see it. “Yeah. Can—can you add another?”

Such a helpless plea. Fuck. 

Eren wished he could see you, like actually see you. He could hear you falling apart, the little huffs through your nose; he could even feel it, your insides clamping down on his finger—god, even thinking about it now, how tight you’d feel around his cock, had him reeling. 

When he pumped his middle finger back inside you, his ring finger accompanied it. Your muscles flexed then relaxed, with your head falling back into the pillow as the soft part of his palm began slapping against your touch-starved clit. 

The sound you made—something of a moan or some unintelligible curse—emboldened him. He felt the same need for your orgasm as he would his own, with the same burning intensity in his gut. He might have wanted it even more than you did. He was concentrated, and for this fleeting blip in time, he’d say you were the only two people in the world. With nothing around you except a choir of crickets chirping low in your ear; the sounds of night, of isolation. 

Eren rested his forehead against yours, staring into the pit of you through your pupils. You felt your mouth drop as he slipped his fingers from you. He brought them up to your clit, stroking you with a feather-light touch. 

“You like that, yeah?” he whispered. “You like it when I play with you like this?” 

Unlike his fingertips, his gaze was hot and heavy. It stole the breath from your lungs. 

“Uh-huh,” were the only syllables you could manage without choking. 

“C’mon, pretty,” Eren cooed. He tilted away, just to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Use your words.” He kissed your forehead next. “Tell me if you want me to make you come.” 

If the rising temperature in the tent didn’t already have you sweltering, then his words would have surely done the job. Heat rose to the apples of your cheeks, and he kissed those, too. 

“I want,” you said on a weepy gasp. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this turned on. You would say anything, if he asked. “I want you to make me come. Please, Eren.” 

The way you cried his name, so softly, so needily—it drove him crazy. But before he could do anything about it, he needed to get out of this damn shirt. 

Sticky with sweat, the fabric clung to his back uncomfortably. Eren pushed himself upright, sitting on his calves as he peeled his tee over his head. He tossed it aside with a sigh of relief. Not much relief, but at least he could feel the air against his flushed chest. He smoothed back a few rebellious strands of hair that stuck to his forehead before diving back into you. 

Eren kissed you again, not on the mouth this time but in the hollow between your collarbones. His lips skimmed down to the valley of your breasts, where he circled his tongue around one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth. He gave ample attention to both, going back and forth, flicking his tongue, sucking at them until they were perky enough for a pinch. 

Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, biting your lip until you thought the skin might break, Eren went lower. He was below your navel, pawing over your hips and thighs, when he told you, “I want to return the favor.”

Immediately, your head darted up from the pillow to look at him. “Oh, you really don’t have to—”

“I want,” he said more firmly, kissing the spot where your hip met your thigh, “to return the favor.” Eyes fixed on you, Eren nosed at your clothed cunt. “Can I?”

How were you supposed to say no to that?

“Okay,” you quietly agreed, and it seemed to open the floodgates. Like the word had unleashed a swarm of fireflies within you, sparking in the deepest part of your stomach. Expectancy rushed through your body; it was nothing short of a thrill. 

Eren mouthed along your inner thighs, forging a pathway up between your legs. They were soft and giving beneath him. Plush skin molding around his fingertips as he pinned you into place, squirming more and more as he closed in on where you wanted him most. 

He was delicate as he took the seat of your underwear in his teeth and tucked them back against your thigh. You felt his breath on you first, the wet warmth of anticipation, then his tongue as it licked a stripe of heat through you. Your body jerked, heels digging into the tent floor in some meaningless attempt at grounding yourself.

Eren’s chuckle died on his tongue. You—everything about you, from your tent to your pillow and blanket, to the remnants of shampoo in your hair and the arousal dripping between your legs—was delicious, sweet. A welcomed reprieve after weeks upon weeks of living with boys. But as wonderful as you were, he felt himself growing desperate for more. 

“I want to see you,” Eren said against your skin, almost growling. You didn’t expect it, nor did you expect for him to straighten out and go digging around. You released the breath you’d been holding and perched yourself onto your elbows. 

You didn’t realize what he meant, or what he was looking for, until it hit you in the face: the beam from his flashlight, quickly smothered by your t-shirt. The navy blue fabric dimmed the light to a faint glow, but it was enough that you could see him, just a little, after your eyes adjusted. 

Confessedly, you stared for a minute. But he did, too. Your eyes fell over his shadowy form, the slight part to his lips, the subtle rise and fall of his chest. You savored the parts of him you’d only been able to steal glances at. And for that minute, you felt unhurried. You had more than an hour (and certainly more than seven minutes) to yourselves for the first time. 

But it was just that: a minute and nothing more. A mere sixty seconds before you became hyper aware of where you really were. You weren’t in your bedroom, safely hidden behind a locked door. Paper-thin nylon separated you from the others, and if you could see Eren, then how clearly could they see you, together? Had he effectively made the tent a beacon of light in the dark? You thought back to all the corny movies you’d seen—both lovers and ax murderers with their silhouettes projected onto tents like a shadow puppet show. 

“Wait,” you breathed. “What if they can see us?” 

You weren’t sure he heard you. He looked you over with darkened eyes, with a heaviness behind his gaze that you could feel. It was like a weight on your chest, keeping you there for him, heart thumping, in only a flimsy pair of underwear. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Eren said, so quietly that you didn’t think you were meant to hear it. He rubbed his palms from the tops of your thighs down, then back up again. “Let them see. I don’t even care.”

Your panties were soaked through, stuck to your inner thigh and begging to come off. Eren slid them over your hips and down your legs. You raised your feet, and there was a slight wobble to them as he pulled your underwear off your ankles.

You remained propped on your elbows, watching Eren’s every move with bright but hesitant eyes. He lowered himself down again, cupping your hips with his hands and thumbing over the bone reassuringly. He kissed so gently, everywhere he could, but paying the most attention to your pussy. Swollen and sensitive, each press of his lips tickled, burning like a seal of wax on an envelope. They left you gasping, wiggling around, spreading your legs for more; they soothed your apprehension, convinced you that fucking in this sweaty tent, in the middle of the forest, was the best idea you’d ever had. 

“Please—oh, god,” you whisper-whined. You needed his tongue back on you.

“What is it?” he playfully asked, knowing fully well what it was you wanted. “You want me to keep going?”

Eren lapped the flat of his tongue over you, slow and hot. You were puddy in his hands, malleable and pliant, and you knew it, too. You just didn’t have it in you to care. Maybe you even liked it. 

“Yes,” you moaned. “Keep going.”

Eren smirked. “What happened? You don’t care if they see us?” His hands curved beneath you, pushing on the backs of your thighs so they were up and out of his way. “See you like this, with your legs in the air for me?”

“No. No, I don’t fucking care,” you rushed out on a shaky breath.

That was enough for him to finally give into you. He closed his mouth over you, and instantly you were enveloped in heat. The softness of his lips, the deftness of his tongue as he licked you, over and over again, had you seeing stars behind your eyelids. 

One hand tangled itself in your pillow case, and your other shoved itself in Eren’s hair, tugging him a little to the left. The tip of his tongue flicked over your clit from that angle, and you felt yourself shiver and clench. 

“Right there, right there,” you softly chanted. “Just like that—fuck!” 

Eren ground his hips into the sleeping bag beneath him. It was pathetic of him, but he couldn’t restrain himself. You were, quite literally, the hottest thing he’d ever seen—and heard and felt and tasted, for what it was worth. And before he knew it, he had his hand shoved down the front of his shorts, groaning at the relief of his own hand. 

He was helpless to you. Helpless to the very notion that he finally had you like this, squirming in pleasure of his doing, the proof of it leaking over his tongue. Yes, you were the one unraveling right before him, crying out that you were about to come, but he was the one at your mercy. Tell him to jump, and he’d ask how high. Ask him to keep doing this, licking you to orgasm again and again, forever, and he would. 

Mounting pressure, not only from tonight but still lingering from every interruption, released itself in an eruption. It coursed through you, pulsing outward from your core and leaving toe-curling ripples in its wake. And all you could do was lie there and let it take you wholly. Hide your face in the bend of your elbow in hopes it would stifle your cries. It half-worked, resulting in a drawn-out whine, one you could feel against your face like steam. A soft sound for just the two of you to hear. 

Once it was over, after you’d let your arm flop to your side, Eren rolled off, just as spent as you. You each lay there on your backs, staring at the pitched ceiling, with the most erratic breaths tugging at your chests. 

You wiped a bead of sweat from your upper lip only to realize that was just the beginning of it: blots of perspiration that were no longer decorating your hairline but dripping down your forehead, down your neck, and between your breasts. 

“I think I need some air,” you said with a sheepish sort of laugh. 

Eren looked relieved when he turned to you. Coupled with his sweat-sheened shoulder, you could almost predict it when he said, “I’m so glad you said it first.” He pushed himself upright. “Me too.”

“We could go for a walk,” you offered, then a smile took hold of your face. “Or maybe a dip in the lake?” 

In truth, it wasn’t a bad idea. Eren even seemed to consider it, wearing this thoughtfully crooked expression before agreeing. 

He stayed in just his shorts, while you reluctantly put your clothes back on over your balmy skin. When you thought you were ready to leave, Eren caught you by the wrist.

“Hold on.” He pulled you into him, stealing a peck. 

You didn’t let it end there, though. You kissed him again, longer this time, winding yourself into him, not minding the rising temperature. It was a lapse in judgment when you thought, Fuck it. I don’t care if I pass out from the heat. I want him inside of me. But you didn’t get the chance to make the call before Eren had already begun unzipping the door, his lips leaving yours in a self-satisfied grin. 

You poked your head out to find nothing had changed since everyone turned in for the night. You breathed a bit easier knowing that, walked a bit lighter behind Eren as he illuminated the path with his flashlight. 

Outside the tent, the air wasn’t much cooler, but at least there was a breeze. Humid, but fresh. The layer of sweat on your skin prickled, turning tacky as it dried on your skin. You couldn’t wait to shed your clothes and plunge into the lake for a rinse. 

You walked in a comfortable silence, side-by-side. It was a quick jaunt to the lake, but far enough away that the huddle of tents was out of sight. No one would stumble upon the two of you unless they came looking—or, on the off chance, someone else wanted to take a late-night dive, too. But that seemed pretty unlikely. 

Considering you’d already bared everything for him, you didn’t give it a second thought as you tore your shirt over your head. Nor did you think about it before kicking off your sandals, peeling your shorts and underwear down your legs next. 

You toed through the sand and over to the water’s edge. When you didn’t hear Eren following behind, you spun around to see him right where you’d left him. As if you had inexplicably swapped roles over the last five minutes, he remained rooted in place, apprehensive, still in his shorts, while you stood naked in the moonlight. 

You took a few steps toward him. “What? Don’t tell me you’re nervous?” 

There was a teasing cadence to your tone. You sang the syllables. Ner-vous. 

Obviously, Eren was nervous. It was entirely your fault that he was crumbling on the spot. How could he not, with you naked, all giggles, bouncing around in front of him? For fuck’s sake, you were still bleary-eyed and moony from the orgasm he gave you—and not to mention, he could still taste you on the back of his tongue. 

He would never tell you any of this, but he didn’t need to. You seemed to know already, grinning ear-to-ear at him as if you could guess every thought as it crossed his mind. 

You leaned in on your tiptoes, and Eren noticeably braced, jumpy, like every one of his nerve endings had gone haywire. You floated him a quick kiss, luring him as he did with you. You walked backwards toward the lake, eyes trained on him, with that same ever-growing grin. 

It was quite the sight: you, seemingly without a care in the world, even if you should have a few—you know, like stepping on a sharp rock or tripping over a tangle of seaweed. Eren couldn’t help giving a gruff laugh as he shook his head. 

“You can’t get all shy on me now,” you called out as you stepped out onto the dock. You twirled around to overlook the lake. “Not after I had your dick in my mouth, and you just—”

“Okay, okay! I’m getting in,” Eren interrupted before you had to say it aloud. Ten seconds later, he met you at the end of the dock, naked, and you tried your best to keep your eyes straight ahead.

In a word, the view was serene. The night had water-colored the world in rich indigo; nothing went untouched except for the very crest of the water. It was almost crystalline, like the lake would shatter the moment you dove in. 

“Regretting your decision?” Eren asked. You hadn’t known him long, or that well, but you could tell he sounded more himself than he did a minute ago, with a certain cheekiness ringing through his voice. 

“Nope,” you said with faux confidence, even puffing your chest. “Just making sure you don’t chicken out on me first.”

Eren raised a brow. “What does that mean?” 

He got his answer in the form of you pushing him into the water. You’d like to think you surprised him with that, but realistically, he more than likely saw it coming and allowed for it, because how else would you have successfully knocked the guy over? You didn’t leave him hanging though; you weren’t that cruel. You jumped in after him, ensuring he wasn’t alone when he resurfaced. 

The lake’s temperature that was once, in your own words, like bathwater now felt more like a forgotten bath you’d let run cold. Perhaps some would call it refreshing, but you’d need more convincing. You wrapped your arms around yourself in a hug, gasping, “This was a much better idea in my head.” 

Eren barked a laugh, the real kind that came from his belly, and he shook some water from his hair. “At least we’re cooled off now, that’s for sure.” 

Unfazed by the frigid lake (probably because he was one of those ‘refreshing!’ people), Eren opened his arms for you. He had this inviting warmth about him, his hand doing that thing you discovered you liked, swirling circles against your lower back. That was the only convincing you needed to stay a while longer. Maybe, just maybe, you’d even say the water felt all right. 

You burrowed your face into the curve of his shoulder and kissed him there, simply because you couldn’t help yourself. Your mouth slipped and slid over his wet skin, and it pulled a raspy sound from him. His fingertips skirted up the side of your thigh to hitch your leg around his waist. He lifted you effortlessly, sealing your body against his. 

You felt light in the head and weightless in the water, so much so you even believed you’d float away if you weren’t careful. You locked your ankles around the small of Eren’s back, holding onto him like a seahorse does to coral. 

When Eren had imagined this moment—not the naked-in-the-lake thing but confessing—he thought it might feel debilitating. Like cracking his chest wide open to hand you his heart, essentially permitting you to do with it as you pleased. Admittedly dramatic, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been here and felt like this. He didn’t want to risk losing it. 

But there was something underlying, unsaid, behind your gaze. Something Eren wasn’t sure he could name—if the words even existed—but disarmed him. That unique talent of yours. It had him casting aside the armor he’d collected over the years and handing you his sword. Like you were seeing him for the first time, and him you. Yes, you were naked with sopping-wet hair clinging to your face, but even after he smoothed the strands back, the vulnerability remained. 

On a hearted breath, Eren said, “I need to get something off my chest,” and it sent a rush through you, capturing your full attention. “Before someone pops out of the forest or lightning strikes, knowing our luck.” 

You glanced at the clear sky overhead. “If lightning strikes us tonight, then the universe must really not want us to get together.”

Eren chuckled. He unwrapped one of your arms from his neck and held up your hand. He ran his thumb over your bracelet and said, “As you’ve probably put together by now, Falco didn’t make this bracelet for you.” 

“I may have put it together,” you said, a little sweet, a little like a smart-ass. 

“And I was the one—am the one with a crush on you. Not because of this,” Eren gave you a once-over, referencing this and everything else you’d done together, “but before that. When I first saw you. I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you since.”

Eren caressed your cheek, then cupped your chin. “I know I’m doing this backwards but. . .” He tilted your face either way, placing a kiss against each of your temples. “I want to take you out, actually spend some time with you and get to know you, when we’re back at school. I don’t want this to end here.”

Heat flared in your core and spread through you like wildfire. “I don’t want this to end here, either,” you whispered. You meant it too, even proved it by pressing your forehead to his assuringly. 

You could feel Eren’s smile when he went to kiss you, how it deepened after you started kissing him back. His large hand cradled the back of your head, holding you close even as you mumbled into his mouth, “You’re hard again.”

“Just ignore it.” 

Eren’s mouth sought yours again, but you lightly dodged him. He eased back enough that you could see his face more clearly, but you only focused on the desire hazing his eyes.

Just ignore it, he said, but his glossy eyes said otherwise.

Just ignore it, but it was difficult to do so when it was pressing against your inner thigh. When he could push inside of you right then, completely unhindered. With just a slight wiggle of your hips, a quick and easy thrust of his. 

“What if,” you whispered on a sharp breath, brows beginning to furrow like you might cry if he didn’t fuck you then, “I can’t.”

You felt his heartbeat drumming against your chest, just as he could undoubtedly feel yours. The sting of cold water, the thistly heat between your legs—each climbed up your spine and heightened your every sense, like live wires just beneath your skin. 

And when he kissed you, you swore no one had ever kissed you like that before. Rough and needy, yet slow, even sensual, as he tasted you—your tongue, your teeth. Your bottom lip as he gave it a harsh suck. It was the kind of kiss that stole your breath but replaced it too, filling you to your very brim. With nothing left in your lungs except for Eren’s breath. 

There was a moment you truly believed you might get high off him, as if it were even possible. You felt the world shift below you, turn you around, only to realize it was him walking you back toward shore.

You didn’t stop kissing until you reached the dock. Your back bumped up against it, and you parted from one another in a gasp. Eren lifted you by the underarms and placed you atop the edge. With hands planted on either side of you, he hoisted himself up next. Water splashed across your lap as he crawled over top of you, laying you back into the puddle he’d made. 

When the breeze hit you, all of you, your teeth started to chatter, half-shivering, half-burning as Eren caged you between his arms. Water beaded at the tip of his nose and dripped onto your cheek.

You giggled, as the situation rightfully called for, but there was a shakiness to your voice as you teased, “Are we about to fuck on an old dock?” 

“If that’s what you want,” Eren said, his lips giving way to a toothy smile. You nod, smiling too, and hooked your legs around his waist. “Then yes, we’re about to fuck on an old dock.” A shudder racked through him as your thighs tightened, and he lowered his mouth to yours. “So long as it doesn’t give out.”

It was the two of you, soaked to the bone, decorated in goosebumps and smelling of lake water. It was cold and dark and the last place on Earth you expected to be. It was a lot of things, but ‘romantic’ wasn’t one of them. Or at least, it shouldn’t have been romantic, but your heart skipped a beat just the same. 

It also just so happened to be very, very hot. 

“Condom?” you asked. Eren reached an arm over your head and snagged his shorts. From the pocket, he pulled out the foil and tore it open with his teeth. Before you knew it, he’d rolled it onto himself and mounted you again. 

His tip rubbed up and down your slit as he fixed himself comfortably above you. You snaked a hand down to guide his cock. Your fingers went slick with lube as you took hold of him, looking him in the eyes while he put it in. 

Eren’s hips tilted into yours, pushing in deeper, making room for himself. He was more patient than you’d imagined, letting you learn the stretch, the fullness. The weight of him inside you. 

You were flush together, his pelvis smushed against the backs of your thighs, and it sent a shiver pulsing through you. You both felt it and took a pause. You adjusted to the feel of him brushing against what felt like the bottom of your stomach, while he closed his eyes to collect himself—or else he’d finish before even getting started.

He took his time sliding out of you. He savored how your cunt squeezed each part of him on his way out. Even better was when he pumped back into you, how it made your back arch for him. You lifted from the dock, and he seized the opportunity to slip his hand beneath you. This time, when he thrust back inside, he pulled you down with him, onto him, making sure you really felt it. 

“Oh—oh!” you moaned. 

You threw your arms over his shoulders and buried your face in his chest. You rocked with him, meeting every snap of his hips, mewling a broken series of oh god, oh god. But you could hardly hear yourself—hardly hear Eren over the wild creaks from the wood below you as he groaned, “You feel—fucking amazing.” 

He breathed the words right above your ear with a voice like thunder, low and rumbly in your chest. It tickled every little hair, making them stand on end. 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this—shit.” He hissed when you kicked your leg higher, helping him reach a new, better angle. “That you’re letting me fuck you right now.”

To have you there, below him, your arms and legs weaving into him like you’d never let go—he thought it must be a dream. 

You almost couldn’t believe it either. You trailed your clammy fingers down between your legs and felt where he split you, over and over and over. He felt so good when he was touching you, licking you—when he was fucking you. He was the only thing on your mind, yet the only response you could give him was a small sob as your head lolled back. 

Eren’s nose brushed your temple. He spoke against the side of your face as he warned, “You’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that.” 

That being the way you held onto the base of his cock like you wanted to milk him into you. He even moaned when your grip firmed.

“You—fuck—you want me to come. Don’t you?” 

You did. You wanted to watch his eyes roll back, see how his face looked when it was screwed up in pleasure. You wanted his body to spasm above you, and you wanted to feel it and know you were its cause. You wanted him to feel half as good as he made you feel thirty minutes ago, devouring you within a thread of consciousness. 

“Please,” you begged. Eren fucked you harder. “I want you to—”

You cut out on an airless cry. The sound was replaced by the slap of skin-on-skin, wet because you hadn’t even tried to dry yourselves off. It was relentless, but it wasn’t his orgasm he was bullying toward. 

Eren could feel you around him, tensing and easing, throbbing like you had a second heartbeat in your pussy. He knew you were as close as he was. 

“I want you to come, too,” he told you, half-chuckling through gritted teeth. “But I need you to come first—to make up for lost time.”

The last thing you’d expected was to come like this. Usually, the feat required a bit more time, concentration—and rarely ran the risk of splinters.

But you were extremely sensitive from his tongue on you earlier. You came and all the blood had rushed between your legs, then it never really left. He’d let it simmer long enough until you were ready to boil over. Just hearing how hungry he was for it, to feel you come on his cock, had the feeling winding itself in your gut, quick and tight, only for you to unravel again right before his eyes. 

“I’m coming,” you whispered. Louder, more frantically, you panted, “Ohmygod, I’m coming. Don’t stop, Eren. Please.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Eren wanted to chuckle again, but he’d choke if he tried. His voice was strangled, all caught up in his throat. He thought he’d forgotten how to breathe when you plead his name—he’d never thought it could sound like that. 

“Say that again,” he gruffed. He was right there with you, staving off his climax but fucking you through yours, anyway. “Say my name again.”

“Ah—Eren,” you pushed out on your exhale, drawing out the last syllable impossibly long; the last breath before you fell limp and lazy in his hold. 

Eren let himself go then, finally. With a groan ripped from the back of his throat, his hips sputtered and lost their rhythm. His cock stuffed you full one final time, biceps quivering like he couldn’t hold himself up any longer. 

He breathed hard a few times; you counted the breaths. One, two, three, four—

“Holy fuck,” Eren cursed, muddled, his voice still thick. 

Holy fuck was right. 

Eren stared at you, and you at him. Neither of you had the ability to say what was on your mind, but you already knew what the other was thinking: Did that just happen? 

Yes, it did. And it might have been some of the best sex you’ve had in your life. Right on this dock. You would think to pinch yourself to double-check you were awake if not for the air nipping your skin as Eren got off of you. 

You straightened out to sit beside him. Keeping close, you welded yourself to his side. You snuck your arm beneath his, pressed your cheek into his arm. You held him like that until your breathing evened out, and you felt ready to look at him again. 

He had an easy look on his face; a soft, one-sided smile that made your insides turn to goo. He placed a hand on your thigh, warming the top of it with his palm. 

You didn’t know who would break the silence first: you, him, or some third thing he’d listed earlier, like a bolt of lightning. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.”

You were surprised to hear yourself say it. Something that was supposed to stay a secret inside your head, yet slipped from you in a quiet confession. 

Eren laughed once. Just an amused huff through his nose. If you had any clue how long he’d been wanting this. . . 

He thought back to that day in your cabin, how exhilarating and nerve-racking and wonderful and awfully awkward it was. He leaned back like he was inspecting you, then rifled a hand through your hair. 

“How’s your head, by the way?” He asked, grinning widely. “You smacked it pretty hard on that bunk bed, you know.”

It teased a laugh from you. You playfully nudged him away, and he laughed harder than before. His shoulders shook with him but didn’t stop even after his laughter settled. 

“You’re freezing,” you commented. You were partially right, but it wasn’t just the cold. He was still vibrating from excitement, from his adrenaline. But that sweaty, sticky tent didn’t sound half bad right now, either. 

Eren nodded. “Let’s head back.” 

He stood with his hands out for you to take. You smiled up at him as you grabbed onto each one.

“So,” you said as you pulled yourself up, with a newfound spring in your step. “Where’s our first date going to be?” 

The corners of his lips crooked up. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

You hummed in thought as you walked the dock together. "What's your favorite kind of food?"

"Thai," Eren answered without missing a beat.

"Thai sounds good."

“Well, wait,” he hurried out like he’d been left out of a crucial decision. “What’s yours?”

You answered as you gathered the clothes you’d littered across the beach. You didn’t have the forethought to bring a towel (for obvious reasons), so you’d have to make do with soggy shorts and a t-shirt until you were back in your tent. 

You realized, while stepping into your underwear, that this was the first thing you knew about him: Eren liked Thai food. 

Actually, you knew where he liked to be kissed, and that he liked Thai food, but you didn’t know much else. You didn’t know his birthday or the town he grew up or even—

“Eren.”

He perked in attention. Already in his shorts, he waited on you to get dressed, trying to look anywhere but at you getting dressed. To see you with such a bemused expression out of nowhere worried him. 

“What’s your major?” you asked.

He gave a warm laugh that made you relax your shoulders, no matter how chilly you thought you were.

“Sports medicine,” Eren replied as he came in close. He looked at you with eyes you could get lost in, never veering off even as his hand wormed its way into yours.

You followed his touch, glancing down to see your fingers interlaced—the hands you had locked together, each adorned in white and turquoise.

“And I can tell you all about it at the restaurant of your choosing.”

thank you so very much for reading <3

Katsuki having his first fight with his s/o :(

We all know he just gets so unbelievably angry all the time that when something hurts it only comes out as anger instead

so he’s screaming, not necessarily at them but still screaming, and he doesn’t know how to get his point across because his chest is tight and his voice is shaky so he yells because he doesn’t know how to tell them how he feels

and they suggest leaving it off for the night because they already gave up on trying to talk and he mistakes it for them giving up on him

he knows he’s hard to love and it hurts him so fucking bad

while I search for the way to your world, leave a mark on your way.

a/n : YOU. NEED TO BURN AT THE STAKE--i mean tysm for the ask mootie !!! youre. so. sweet. but no all jokes aside i think about this like all the time are u sure ur not in my brain, i switched things up juuuust a lil bit bc i actually had a daydream about this lololol, i hope you don't mind <3 much luv !! ps yall this is @lunarfleur’s fault not mine blame them

fem reader, first bad argument, emotionally constipated desperate katsuki i love him anyways, gentle reader, hurt/comfort, kinda making up towards the end, clingy katsu, kissing, mentions of wanting to vomit !! not proofread atm but will fix later ! lmk if i missed sum else !

katsuki cannot for the life of him remember what you'd even started arguing about. all he knows is that he's pissed off. what he doesn't know is why.

katsuki hates how quickly he gets emotional. it makes him so mad, it makes his skin burn. he hates how he feels the burn of tears in the back of his eyes the moment his chest feels tighter and he knows what's coming. so he closes himself off from you. he hates how fucking shaky his voice gets when you pull yourself away from where you were cuddled up just moments ago, so he just starts speaking louder. until he's screaming and his throat is sore and burning.

he doesn't know why he's screaming at you, he doesn't want to. but he's so mad, at you and at himself and he has no other way to say so except for this. it makes his skin burn and itch and his head is throbbing and his heart hammers in his ears. all he knows is that he doesn’t want to fight with you because you’re not like him. you’re not used to just amping up the heat, to continue arguing until the other submits and you come out victorious.

instead, you sigh. you’re frustrated but you don’t scream. you’re quiet, and it makes katsuki that much more angry. he tells himself it’s because you act like he’s a child having a tantrum with the way you grip your temples, just so he can stay mad longer. but he knows you’re just tired. your head hurts and your tired of fighting, maybe even tired of him. and that scared him so much.

so he gets louder, gets in your face more. when he’s scared, katsuki gets real mean because he hopes he can scare you harder. but he knows it’s not a competition, you’re not trying to be scarier than him, you were never even trying to scare him but all he did was cut you off, scream at you and scoff at your words.

no wonder you’re tired of him, a little voice in his head nags. his limbs are on fire.

but then your shoulders slump, you sigh dejectedly and you tell him you can’t do this. and it feels like a bucket of water’s been dumped onto him.

you’re saying something, he can see it. but he’s frozen. he can’t move as he watches you wait for something, for him to say something, to act maybe ? but he doesn’t know. what did you mean just now ?

you sigh again, he hates it. he hates it so much. he hates that it comes from you. then he registers you’re putting your shoes on. and he swears he hears you sniffling as you reach past him for your keys and grab your jacket by the door.

oh. you’re leaving.

you can’t do this. you can’t stand being with him anymore and he made you leave. he should be happy, you were being annoying..but fuck he doesn’t want you to go. work had been stressful lately and he couldn’t wait to spend time with you again. so why are you leaving ?

why’d he make you leave ?

you can’t do this, that’s what you told him. katsuki feels like he’s gonna vomit.

when he feels cornered, it’s practically instinct for katsuki to bare his fangs at whatever is keeping him there. he doesn’t feel scared, that shit wasn’t for him. but he’s scared now, so scared that you’ll leave and that you won’t call him when you make it home. so scared that you’ll leave and never come back and he has to live with the fact that he’d pushed the most important person in his life away.

he’s desperate, so he does the only thing he knows. and he begs in his own way.

you can’t even twist the doorknob because the large hands that slam against the door don’t let you. you feel katsuki before you see him. can feel the warmth radiating from him on your back and you see your shadow grow bigger through your misty eyes. you feel him press himself harder against you like he’s trying to trap you between the door and him. you feel his hair tickle your nape and you feel his lips tickle your neck as he presses them there, and you feel like crying.

“katsuki..” you sigh, feeling him kiss all over your skin, your neck, behind your ear, your cheek. desperately like he’s on a mission. “katsuki..no.” you whine, craning your neck away from him and he stops then, when he has nothing to reach, when you’re unreachable. he wraps his arms around your middle to keep you to him, to keep you here.

“what..?” he asks, you scoff. looking up at the ceiling to keep from tearing up in front of him, katsuki feels his heart shatter as he looks at you desperately. do you hate him ? why won’t you just let him make it better ?

“i don’t—what are you doing..?” you whisper sadly, his heart pounds. you lean away from hims as much as you can with his arms still around you. he doesn’t tighten his hold, but he doesn’t let go. he can’t risk hurting you.

“i—i’m..” he stutters, searching around on your crumpled up face for anything. he doesn’t know what he’s looking for. his eyes drift around “i’m just—trynna make it up to you..”

“how..?” you ask, and when he keeps looking confused you rephrase “do you even know what you’re making it up to me for ?”

wordlessly, he pulls you closer to him despite you struggling a bit. he noses at your neck, hiding his eyes from you as he speaks again “‘cus i made you sad..” he admits slowly, that’s reason enough for him.

you sigh again then, and katsuki has to use all his strength not to flinch at it. “i don’t like it when you yell at me. and you don’t listen to me at all, that’s what i’m upset about.” you slump over in his arms, like you’ve given up. “i wish you’d get that..” you finish bitterly.

he gets it, he wants to say. he understands now, he’ll listen to you, he swears. but he knows it won’t be that easy. katsuki has no experience with things like this. with relationships and communication to resolve disputes. he wants to know, to learn. for you. but he fears he’s too late and he’s afraid. he hadn’t even realized he was doing the total opposite of what you wanted from him.

“okay, okay. i’ll listen just—” he grits out. he wants to give you space because he knows that’s probably what you want. you want to leave, but he can’t let you. so he shoves his head in your neck selfishly “don’t leave.”

the way he sounds is almost painful, like he’s forcing the words out despite them causing him pain just for you. you don’t want this, you hate arguing with katsuki no matter how petty it is. but it’s never been this bad. it’s not like you find it fun, but you wish he’d just bother listening to others, to you. it might sound like he’s just trying to appease you so he doesn’t have to stay alone, but when he’s like this and in general, to you katsuki is extremely easy to read. and you know he knows he’s gone too far. and you don’t want to leave, ‘cus he’s so warm. but you think maybe he’s a bit overwhelmed and needs some space. he’d been a bit antsy because of demanding hero work lately and you know he hates admitting any type of weakness, so he’d tried to push it away.

of course, it’s no excuse. and katsuki has a hard time admitting when he’s wrong, but you think he’s starting to understand it slowly.

you sigh, his hands feel warm where he’d loosely settled them above your stomach. you squirm a bit in his hold and he lets you, only because you decide to turn to look at him. you hadn’t even realized he’d been so upset, his eyes glossy and a bit red. tentatively, you place a hand on his shoulder and he softens that much more. slowly you reach your other hand up to his face and it hasn’t even made contact for him to lean into it like a magnet. it makes your heart break.

“i think..it’s better if i do..” he flinches, but you rub against his cheek and continue “because i think you need to be left alone for a bit.” he hides his face in your hand. pulling your other one off his shoulder and to his face. you can feel his lip tremble even as he bites hard into it and feel the tips of his eyebrows twitch. “i think you’re tired..right ?” you say softly. he lifts his head up to deny, but his mouth hangs open. katsuki hates having to talk about how he feels more than anything in the world, but if that’s what it takes for you to still love him, he’ll swallow his pride. and he’ll beg in his own way.

he begs you to stay with him by closing his mouth and nodding lightly, sighing harshly as he looks off to the side, grip still on your wrists. his nose nuzzles against your palms. fuck, he could fall asleep like this. maybe he is more tired than he’d realized.

“yeah..” you smile lightly, “so i think it’s better if i go for a while, leave you to think, okay ?” you’re happy he’s sucking up his pride and actually listening to you talk, not raising his voice and actually listening to you. he wordlessly nods to your every word, head bobbling as he agrees to everything, it has you holding back a giggle but not your fond little smile as he presses little kisses into your palms.

he raises his head a bit to hold eye contact “..you mad at me ?” you hesitate before responding.

“i’m still upset, you were being really mean katsuki.” you correct. it hurts, but he nods again, understanding. your heart feels just a little bit lighter.

“‘m leaving now, suki..” and he sighs heavily but he thinks he feels just a bit at ease. his heart feels just a bit lighter when you tell him “i’ll text you when i get home, kay ?”

he wants to ask you to call him instead, he wants to hear your voice but he knows he’s supposed to listen now, listen to what you want. and he nods again. you lean forward just a bit and it’s like he can smell what you want because he meets you halfway, pulling your arms around his middle and pressing his lips to yours so softly, so loving. so not like him, he thinks. but he’ll try for you, he’ll listen.

“i love you.” he whispers when you pull away, you think you could cry just from that. “i love you too.” you sniffle. it doesn’t feel like goodbye, and that makes both of you feel just a tad better.

you pull away and he doesn’t chase after you. he’s still a bit scared, but he doesn’t fight back, and let’s you go. you flash him a shy little smile when you turn to leave and he sends you one back. he stands in his door way when he hears the door clack shut and he stands there some more after you’re gone.

worry gnaws at him as he goes to make himself dinner. it gnaws at him when he’s in the shower and still when he’s going off to bed. but just before he goes to lay down and get some much needed rest, you text him. like you said you would, and katsuki feels he can sleep with a lighter heart.

he’ll rest up. and as his eyes slowly fall shut he swears he’ll make it up to you and never make you want to leave again.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 - 𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧.𝐣

eren jaeger x fem!reader

"whose perfume is that?"

cw: 2k words, suspicions of cheating, stressing, reader and eren are married, pussy eating, shower sex, tongue fucking, dick sucking, sex in a semi-public place, v n p sex, no condom, slight corruption kink, manhandling, dom!eren, sub!reader

you pushed your hair behind your ear as you sucked in your cheek, flipping the next page as your head shot up at the sound of your front door closing.

uncrossing your legs and arms wide you grinned at a tired, stressed eren.

"long day?" you mumbled into his button up, an airy laugh escaped his lips as he wrapped his arms around you so tightly

"horribly" he added, digging his nose into your hair as he sighed, grateful to be home.

after that, he stripped from his sweaty attire and hopped into the shower as you prepared dinner, this calm lifestyle suiting you both as he decided to leave work at work and rarely snapped with stress

it's perfect. you knew when to embrace him after a long day and when to stay clear, you're not tip-toeing around him or anything, you're just picking up on his hints.

you love that..-picking up on hints that is. but not so much when it comes to perfume on his collar and staying out late. not at all.

you twirled the ring on your finger, teeth gnawing at your lip making it bloody and bruised. 2 hours late? dinners cold and your patience is thin.

he would've texted.

That's all you can think. but maybe it's hard to type a simple "gonna be late" when you're balls deep in-

"baby?"

he's home.

you're crossed-legged on your shared bed and you don't know if you wanna see him. you almost want him to stroll past you and just shower so you don't have to see his messy hair or smell another women's fragrance

"honey? are you out?"

why isn't he letting up? are you crazy? is this-

"fuck, there you are" he sighed, walking into the bedroom as he shrugged off his coat he usually hangs up in the doorway, was he really that adamant on finding you that he couldn't put his coat up? was he scared that you packed up and left, or just being a good husband? you feel insane.

he tossed it to the floor like it didn't cost 500 dollars and walked over to you, muscles straining his top as he scoops your cheeks up to look at him

"are you okay? did something happen?" he is actually worried and you're a horrible person.

"uh- no sorry, just worried about you...took a while for you to come home" you whispered, he looked at you for another minute to check if everything was alright before laying down next to you

"my phone died, sorry honey, dumbasses made me stay late and traffic was a bitch." he mumbled into the matters as you moved to lay down next to him

"mm" you hummed in response, gliding your fingers softly into his already undone hair as he lightly moans into the sheets

"missed you all day" he adds, rolling over after a minute and standing, unbuttoning his shirt

halfway done he leans in, trapping your now upright form with his hands at either side of you,

"how 'bout you join me in the shower?" he grins, waiting for your answer as your face heats up rapidly

"ok" you whisper, excitement pooling into your panties as he stares into you

he scoops you up, bringing you to the bathroom, and placing you on the counter, lips smacking against yours in almost a panic as he separates you and puts the shower on. you look over at the immediate steam as he put it to the hottest tempt. stripping your shirt off with a clean swipe and pulling your pants off with your soaked panties

as the bathroom fogs with steam, he kneels down, licking up your cunt, his groans at your heat and pulsing pussy, wrapping your thighs around him as he laps at you like a starved man

sliding his tongue into your cunt with ease, he starts fucking you with it as tears pool out of your eyes, and beg him to keep going

with cum dripping from his chin and him licking every last drop, he holds your weary frame as he enters the shower to have his way with you.

it was amazing, hand holding against the cold tile as hot steam keeps you warm, his cock sliding in and out of you as he spills praises of "so fucking gorgeous" "been thinkin' bout this all day" "so fuckin' perfect for me" "I love you so much"

the rest of the night was a blur with a sore body and him taking care of you, ordering take-out because of the cold dinner, and you cuddled up with him watching horrible tv shows while eating.

it was truly, perfect.

dumbass forget his lunch.

you text him a warning of your arrival and he responded with a "can't wait 😉"

you scoffed and hopped into your car, trying to make this fast and praying he'd be at the entrance because a tee shirt and jeans isn't an outfit you wanna meet his coworkers in.

you sighed and parked as you accepted your fate in going in. you sucked your bottom lip in as you looked like a mother bringing your forgetful child lunch mid-class.

you talked to the receptionist who had a glare on her with a verrry tight top that made you feel even more like an outcast.

"and who are you to mr. jaeger?" she said, valley accent heavy on her lips

"I'm his wife..." you cleared your throat, knowing this might be a problem

"you know...I can just call him and have him down here-" you rambled, trying to get this to end as embarrassment flooded you

"ma'am, I'll call him, okay?" she scoffed and you just had your lips in a tight line and waited.

after forever, she gave you the go-ahead to go upstairs, you thanked her and went onto the elevator where you thought out a message to leave eren because why the fuck didn't he come downstairs

you felt more secure now, if this is you before you'd be assuming the worst, but, you've been trying to stop that and just trust your damn husband

as the elevator doors open all eyes were on you and you suddenly felt like you were gonna die again. you shuffled out, scared to bother anyone as you moved through the busy halls

you saw a woman with jet-black hair cut short as she moved empty-handed, you stopped her shyly and asked if she knew eren and if so, where he'd be

"why do you need to see eren?" she questioned immediately, you sighed again, not wanting to go through receptionists 2.0

"I'm his wife" you answered for the 50th time, her eyes darkened slightly before putting on the fakest smile you've ever seen

"oo, I'm mikasa" she said as if you'd know, you nodded like you did but she caught on you were oblivious

"me and eren are great friends" she added to save her point, you nodded again, not caring too much about his work friends but more so him

"yeah, we've been friends since-" she pushes air out of her mouth as she moves a hand on her hip "gosh, I don't even know how long"

"that's nice" you said, a little too aggressive than you wanted it to be, her eyes moved to yours and she stood straight again with a sly grin on her lips

"there's no need to worry between him and I, I mean, the people here call me his wife because we're so close but I'm sure they know you as well"

this bitch

"that's nice," you repeated before taking a breath "eren doesn't talk a lot about work so I had no idea he made friends"

her eye twitched slightly and you were pleased, passive aggressiveness strong in your cheery voice as you just wanted to leave

"he probably didn't wanna worry you"

"about what?" you answered right anyway, knowing you fell into her trap and this would take long she put another almost surprised face on

"I mean, we go out a lot and people talk is all." you stared uninterested at her, taking a deep breath in and getting a hint of perfume, the same one eren had sprinkled on his collar

"like, going out to lunch and dinner isn't a big deal, but, people think that your rings on my finger haaa" she ended with an airy laugh, and you nodded with a tight-lipped smile and she finished up the conversation, and finally pointing to his fucking office

you said your goodbyes and walked into there where eren was signing some unimportant papers

"baby took you long enough" he whined, sitting up as he wrapped his arms around you, moved back to lock his lips with you as you stood almost motionless

"everything okay?" he asked backing up and taking a look at your frame

"ran into mikasa...your work wife" you said, annoyed.

"shit, she won't leave me alone...what did she say to you?" he stood up walking towards you worried she messed with you

"nothing, here's your lunch-" you lifted the small bag up but he just sighed and asked again, "what did she say?"

you bit a chunk of your cheek, deciding to do this now rather than later

"lunches, dinner, rumors, and her perfume always on your shirt coming home" you answered simply, obviously pissed off with the situation

"dammit, I'm sorry babe, I'll talk to her-"

"no, I want you to talk to me...dinners eren? is that why you're coming home late and missing mine?" you asked, he stared at you, collecting his thoughts with a tightened jaw

"she asked me to go to a place down the street once, I said yes, I made it home in time still. all those times I came home late yes I was working. goodness babe- I- I can't believe you're even asking this" he said, moving his hands around

"I'm asking because her perfume is always on you when you come home" you said, keeping your voice low

"because goodbye hugs are a part of her nightly routine, she works with me all day, hugs and lunches are normal" he pleas

"can you keep your distance from her? she's head over heels for you eren and that shit scares me" he stared at you, almost shocked

"what scares you? me or her?" he asked, not willing for a half-assed answer

"I- that bitch would tear any relationship up, do you see her?"

"so you think I'd fuck her? takes two babe." he added and you scramble to collect your thoughts

"I- I know you wouldn't do that-" "fuck, y/n, w-were married and you think I'd fall for an employee that has a crush on me?"

"who cares about what she fucking calls herself, at the end of the day I come home to you, I fuck you" he says, keeping his voice low but firm as you stood there feeling guilty

"I'm sorry" you answered and his eyes softened, you did truly feel bad for questioning his loyalty this much

"I'm sorry that you had to go crazy alone and hear that bullshit from her.." he hugs you, kissing your forehead as he rubs circles on your back

once he pulled away he looked at you as you stared up at him, almost waiting.

he leaned down and kissed you, loving at first but becoming frantic as he pressed himself against you, getting somewhat hard

"e-eren" you scolded, here? right now?

"fuck, hold on" he lead you to a personal bathroom with a complete counter, putting you up there you feel heat pool everywhere as he stood hard in his pants

"do I need to fuck your head straight? hm?" he asked, whispering on your lips as he dips down to kiss you and rubbing himself

a whine escaped your lips, bucking your hips up as you felt your wet pussy throb for his cock

he unzips his pants and pulls out his cock, jerking himself until he was fully hard

you kissed him, moving down from the counter as his brow twitched in confusion until you sunk down to your knees

"'m sorry" you mumbled, licking up his tip as he groaned. you moved your mouth across the thick vein lining his tanned cock as your pussy ached for it to choke you, you humped your thigh desperately as you sucked on the head

"fuck, you're that horny baby? didn't I just fuck you?" he groaned out, you put him into your mouth fully as you moaned on how it choked you. it's all you want right now, to have his huge cock down your throat as you hump yourself for forgiveness

he groaned digging his nails into your hair as he fucked your throat right away, you loved how your throat ached and how tears pooled out of your eyes

"fuck, you like that baby? touch yourself, touch that fucking pussy f'me"

you listen, unzipping your pants and sliding your hand down to start rubbing your swollen clit

"aw baby, feels good, feels good being a slut?" he coos but you nod, it felt great with him using you, it's all you wanted.

"fuuck" he groaned, coming close as your eyes crossed and you came on your fingers, all you wanted is his cum

you rode your fingers expecting to get a mouth full of cum but he removed his cock from your throat

"fuck, 'wanna cum in that pussy baby...did you already cum" he sighed, having his hands run through his hair as you nodded

"riding your fingers now 'cuz you want more?" he asked, taunting you with his cock in your face

"m-mhm" you choked on your tears, leaning in you sucked his cock again as he groaned

"fuuck, you're such a slut" he moved your hair back and titled it towards him

"take your filthy fingers out of your pussy and lick them" he ordered and you did so right away, sticking your fingers down your throat as your oral fixation was healed

he picked you up back on the counter and took your pants off and shoved his cock into your pussy, you cried, telling him it was too big but he just started fucking you,

so full of cock you cried as your pupils spun, squirting everywhere as he rubbed your clit to get another one out of you

"again, cum again" he said, slamming his hips against yours and his cock felt so good all you wanted was to be full of him, always.

with shaking thigh you came again, his pace hurried as he cursed under his breath. he came deep into your womb and kissed up your neck, sweaty hair getting pushed back with his hand as your fucked out flushed face stared dizzily at him

an: I'm waaaay too tired to read through that again, but, I hope you enjoyed! I can't believe I actually made a full 2k fic! I'm feeling a little shy posting such smut but whatever I'll close my eyes once I hit post :) oh, and I for once did "maybe cheating" troupe with an actual innocent eren, who would have thought!! haha, love you guys <3