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mediocrecherry · 10 months

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scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!

hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!

beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol

pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader

wc: 9.1k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)

have fun ;)

This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.

“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”

“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.

“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”

“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.

“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”

“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”

You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”

He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.

You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.

You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.

It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.

When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”

“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.

You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”

“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”

You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”

If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.

As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”

“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.

“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.

“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.

“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.

Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.

“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”

“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.

“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”

You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–

“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.

“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”

“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.

“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”

You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.

“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.

The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.

“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.

“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”

The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.

“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.

“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.

Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.

“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”

One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”

Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”

Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”

Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.

“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”

“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.

Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.

You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.

“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.

“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”

“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”

“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”

Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”

“Sasha–”

“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”

“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”

“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.

You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.

Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.

You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?

He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.

“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.

His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–

Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.

The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.

“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.

“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.

Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.

“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”

“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.

Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.

“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”

“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.

A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”

“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”

Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”

“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”

“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.

“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”

“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.

A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.

Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.

“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”

“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”

“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.

He spits directly in Eren’s face.

Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.

“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.

“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.

“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”

You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.

“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.

“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.

He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.

Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.

Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.

“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”

“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.

“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”

No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”

You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.

“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.

Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.

“What the hell was that, Eren?”

He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.

“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”

“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.

“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”

“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.

Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”

“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.

Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”

“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”

Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”

“You’re my–”

“The other thing.”

“I needed you.”

“Again.”

“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”

He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”

“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.

“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”

Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.

“Do you still?”

“Still?”

“Need me.”

You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”

“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”

You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.

“I still need you. Now.”

Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.

“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”

A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.

His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”

You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”

Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.

Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.

Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.

“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.

“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.”

Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.

“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”

Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin.

“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”

“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.

“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”

A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.

“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”

“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.

“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”

Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.

He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.

Eren chuckles. “You need something?”

“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.

“You want me to stop fucking with you?”

“Please, Eren, I need you–”

“That’s all you had to say.”

And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.

Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.

“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.

“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.

“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“I need– fuck– I need more.”

“Magic word?”

“Please, Eren, fuck!”

“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”

Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.

“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it.

“Close?”

“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”

“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”

Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–

“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”

The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.

“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”

He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch.

“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”

Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”

You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”

You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”

Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.

Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.

“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”

“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”

You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.

“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”

“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”

You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.

And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.

“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.

“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”

“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”

“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.

Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.

You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.

“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”

You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.

Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.

You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.

“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”

“He’s not my-”

“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.

You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”

Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.

“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”

You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.

“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”

“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”

“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.

“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”

You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.

“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”

You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”

He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.

It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.

“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.

“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”

That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”

“Maybe he wants to apologize.”

Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”

“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.

Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.

“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”

There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.

“I just–”

“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”

You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”

“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”

Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”

“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.

“You might have me there.”

“Better than horseface?”

“Watch it.”

The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”

“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.

“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”

“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.

He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”

15K notes · View notes

mediocrecherry · 10 months

Text

STOPP THIS IS SO GOOD

spiderman’s sweetheart

spider!eren x f!reader

you find yourself helping out your friendly neighborhood spiderman

content: spiderman au!, mentions of violence/blood/injury, a very corny spider gang, pieck + hange best girlfriends and aunts, they keep calling the female titan a pervert, the iconic spiderverse monologue at the end

an: based on a request I received from @cutiejg hope you like it sweetie pie!!!! ur request made me so excited I just had to write it now bc I LOVE LOVE LOVE SPIDERMAN

–

Eren’s late. He’s late, he’s late, he’s late.

His skateboards not moving him nearly fast enough and the stupid fucking school security stopping him every ten feet isn’t helping him either. And the cracks in the pavement slowing him down and the soreness from last night aren’t exactly boosters either.

When he reaches the basketball courts, he sees you sitting there and feels his heart drop - black sunglasses perched on your face, your hair glowing in the sun, and your nose stuck in a book. As he walks up, he instantly recognizes the cover of the book you’re reading - The Heir to the Jedi - one of his favorite novels from when he was younger.

He picks up his skateboard from the ground, running his hand through his hair one time before he clears his throat to get your attention. He watches intently as look up, giving him a smile as you yank your earbuds out of your ears.

“Hi. I’m Eren. Eren Yeager. From the yearbook? We uh- went to elementary school together. And middle school. The same class too - with that hardass Mr. Levi? And uh-I’m sorry I’m late, I just got out of work.”

Work. In his job as the cities most wanted vigilante, Spiderman.

He’s cut off by the sound of you laughing, your nimble fingers pulling your sunglasses off the tip of your nose and pulling them up to hold your hair back.

Fuck. This is infinitely harder when you’re making direct eye contact with him, glowing eyes peering into his.

“I know who you are, Eren.”

“You do?”

“Of course, I do. How could I forget the guy who spilled orange juice all over Mr. Levi - the clean freak hardass himself’s - desk?

Eren feels his cheeks burn, embarrassment coursing through his blood as he fumbles with the camera around his neck. Great. All you remember is the time he got yelled at and sent to the principal’s office in seventh grade for being clumsy.

It’s not his fault he spilled the fucking orange juice. You just happened to look at him right at that second, pulling your face up from your textbook, to smile at him and his hands just started sweating and it just happened.

“Right, uh- so you like Star Wars?”

He watches you gather your belongings - a pale green waterbottle, your solid black backpack - covered in pins and ribbons as you both head down to the courts. One pin catches his eyes - the signature spider emblem right in the middle. The “I Stand with Spiderman” pins.

A month after he started this whole Spiderman thing, the police chief called a task-force, aimed towards arresting the “spider vigilante” that was wrecking havoc. He almost got caught, backed up into a corner during one of his first fights, but the people in the city blocked him off, giving him enough time to get away.

It was…a whole moment. The community, the people - they love Spiderman. So much that they started a whole movement to protect him, started by a group called “The Lions.” The names corny, but they’ve protected him more times than not so…he appreciates it. And that pin - it means you’re a part of it.

Not only are you a part of a group that supports him, but you’re the class president of the school. And he’s the editor in chief of the yearbook. And in your presidential duties, you’ve tasked him with joining you at all your club progress meetings to take pictures of each club. It’s easier to do it together so you don’t take up that much time from each club - one meeting to get all the business sorted out.

“Huh? Oh! Because of the book. Yeah, my little brother, Falco. Really into that stuff.”

“Does he have a favorite character?”

“Kylo Ren.”

“I was Kylo Ren for Halloween. Armin, Jean, and Connie were the knights.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Why the fuck did he just tell you that he was a nerdy fucking Star Wars character for Halloween? Did he seriously just admit that he has the same interests as your fucking eleven year old little brother?

“That’s clever, since it sounds like your name and all. Eren - Ren. Falco and I went as Harry and Hermione.”

“Ah. You should be Rey and Finn next year. Because you’re like….a ray?”

He watches you turn over to look at him, eyes squinting in confusion.

Because she’s a ray? Eren Yeager, literal fucking spider-human who can swing from literal buildings, and the best he can come up with is you’re a ray. He couldn’t even finish the sentence and say ray of sunshine?

“If I’m a ray, than you’re a segment.”

He laughs so hard, he snorts and it’s literally so fucking embarrassing he wants to crawl in a hole.

Math joke. You made a math joke. Because if she’s a ray, a part of a line that has no fixed end point, then he’s a segment - a line with two distinct end points.

Eren tries his best to concentrate, but your sweet honey voice and your soft flowery smell make it hard to pay attention. He snaps the pictures. He walks you to your car. He goes to sleep with a smile on his face.

from y/n l/n

you: eren!!! the basketball pictures are so great. ty for all ur help :’)

Armin, Connie, Jean, and Eren all hover their heads over the phone - lying flat on his bed spread - trying their best to write out the best response.

This is serious. Eren’s had a crush on you since the fourth grade. And this is his chance.

“You should tell her thank you. And that you want to get coffee with her.”

Connie grabs Armin by the collar of his shirt, nearly strangling him in the process.

“Are you fucking kidding, Armin? He might as well say he wants to have sex with her.”

Eren can feel his cheeks heat up as Armin and Connie start arguing, half swatting each other on the face. Armin’s screaming into Connie’s ear, the both of them tangling on the floor now.

“What the fuck are you on about, Connie? It’s coffee shop, not a fucking bar.”

Eren webs the two of them off each other, giving them both a smack on the back of the head as they stop.

“You can’t web us Eren. We’re your guys in the chair!”

Originally, Eren had one guy in the chair. Armin. A bloody genius at all things science and technology - he couldn’t have designed his web slingers without him. Granted, he tried but they didn’t work as well.

But then he had to tell Connie. Because Connie had an in at the fabric store, his best friend Sasha’s mom as the primary designer, and he desperately needed someone to design a suit so he could keep his identity a secret. So he told him. Because that’s the only way Sasha’s mom would agree. If her biological son basically begged her to make a suit.

Connie’s a loudmouth. Who told Jean. Who isn’t entirely useless. Sure he’s got a pretty big fucking head, but his dad is also a cop - meaning Jean can steal their radio systems so Eren can respond to events faster than them.

A spider gang.

“You’re both some big fucking idiots, that’s what you are. Where the fuck were you raised, Connie? A barn?”

Eren, Connie, and Armin immediately stop talking the second they hear the swishing sound fill the air, turning their heads to find Jean with the phone in his hands. He sent a message.

Jean’s smirking at the three of them, shaking the phone in his hands. Eren immediately stalks over, his eyes boggling out of his fucking sockets when he reads the response.

to y/n l/n

eren: thanks bae!

“Jean Kirstein. Count your fucking days.”

He immediately webs Jean to the wall behind him, slapping across the face one time for good measure as well.

“What gives? It’s sweet - calling back to the ray joke you told us about.”

Jean yanks his hand off the drywall, placing the stray webs onto Eren’s bed spread.

“The ray joke? Your dumbass literally responded with ‘thanks bae’”

Jean sits up, snatching the phone from Eren’s hands as he runs his eyes over the phone again. Jean’s face turns uncharacteristically pink, an apologetic look on his face. Eren tags him to the wall behind him, spiderwebs holding his wrists up properly to the drywall this time.

“Touch my phone again and I’ll web you upside down from the Empire State Building next.”

“It was autocorrect! I thought I typed ray.”

Eren webs over Jean’s mouth to prevent him from talking any further. He plops on the floor, head in his hands.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. This can’t get any more embarrassing. First he spills that orange juice in front of you and then calls you a ray and is late to meeting with you and now sends you this fucking horrifying text?

You’re going to block him. You’re going to block him and Eren’s going to lose his chance with you. Eren is most definitely going to hang Jean upside down from the Empire State Building.

His phone dings in the air and the three of them - Connie, Armin, and Eren - nearly drop the phone off the fucking bed trying to read the response. Jean’s voice is muffled against the web - sounding an awful lot like “if it’s a good response, you have to set me up with Mikasa”

from y/n l/n

you: you’re welcome sweetheart :DDD

Armin and Connie are fucking shaking Eren by the neck, the three of them screaming in the air. Jean’s still muffling against his web, begging to find out what you responded.

Eren ignores that embarrassing heart skip in his chest.

“Where is it guys?”

Eren turns up his earpiece, swinging towards the end of the buildings. He could hear the crashing as he was walking back to his apartment, decking into the alley way to suit up.

Armin - in all of his fucking genius - created matching earpieces for the four of them to use when Eren was on sight, everyone making sure a base was covered. Armin reported on the casualty, trying his best to think of ways to use the enemies weaknesses to Eren’s advantage.

Connie watched the security cams Jean gave him access to, finding the best access route for Eren to get in and out of places. And Jean, in all his annoyingness, kept surveillance on the fucking cops trying to arrest him at every move.

“Rose Middle School. Apparently, it’s like some fucking superhuman female titan and she’s giant. She’s wrecking through the parks right now.”

“On it, Armin. Jean and Connie - keep me updated on where the cops are.”

“Make sure a flaming car hits Mr. Levi.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jean.”

Eren turns his ear piece down, swinging into his old middle school as he surveys the problem.

And Lord have mercy, she is fucking giant. A chiseled titan of pure muscle, striking blue eyes and blonde hair watching him swing through the air. She’s currently demolishing the PE equipment, which he imagines can’t be too bad, given it’s centuries old.

Maybe they’ll finally replace the pickle ball equipment with a real sport - like basketball of volleyball. Eren webs her ankles and arms together first, knocking her down to the side.

“Hey lady. Have you ever thought about like…putting clothes on? This feels weirdly inappropriate.”

She only roars in response, breaking open the webs around her ankles as she reaches around for him in the air. Eren swings around her, basically flying through the air, as he tags her to the tree behind her. He taps into the ear piece, waiting for a response.

“Best idea is to leave her there for now, Eren. There’s a kid around the block, make sure he’s okay before you try again.”

“On it, Armin.”

He swings around the block, to find one pale, blonde haired kid - a nose stuck in his book and headphones covering his ears. Did he not just see the hoard of kids running away? Or here that female titan just scream?

He steps down, using his webs to yank the kids headphones off as he steps down in front of him. When the kid looks up, he realizes he has a puddle full of tears in his eyes, his cheeks brazen pink.

“Hey kid.”

He sniffles in response, pressing his hand against his nose.

“Hi.”

He crouches down, holding out his hand to shake.

“I’m Spiderman. What’s your name?”

“Falco.”

“Nice to meet you, Falco. Want to get out of here before that creepy little weird lady comes back?”

“Um, yeah. But my sister is supposed to come get me.”

“Your sister, huh? Did she say where?”

Stupid sister. Was she really planning on getting you from here? This sister couldn’t meet him at the Starbucks across the street?

“Right here. I’m waiting for her to show up so we can leave. She said to listen to music and read my jedi book so I don’t panic.”

Jedi Book. Sister. Falco. You. Holy fucking god, this is your little brother. The one who likes the Kylo Ren.

Right on cue, he can feel his spider sense tingling, with you running behind him - sneakers slapping against the concrete as you sprint. You nearly knock Spiderman over as you grab Falco by the face, cupping his cheeks in your hands as you run your eyes all over him.

Your face is all scrunched up in panic and Eren can feel his senses heightened at the sight of you, this kid, and this creepy fucking titan lady a few feet away from you. You need to leave. Now. He needs you to leave because he can’t focus if you’re here.

“You okay, Coco? Let’s go. Right now.”

“Okay, okay.”

But before you can, a large crashing sound knocks the three of you to the ground, the stupid female titan standing over the breadth of the elementary school, crystal blue eyes glaring down at the three of you. Spiderman webs up first, spinning around her as he calls out to her.

“God, lady. You should really put some clothes on. You’re flashing entire titty to a kid right now.”

All you can do is look up in shock, the titan’s crystal blue eyes staring into yours. Your hold on Falco is nearly deathlike and you shaking Falco’s arms as hard as you can to signal him to follow you.

You begin to pull him but feel a tug when Falco doesn’t follow. He’s crying hard - tears pouring out of his eyes as he looks down at his feet.

“I can’t move- I-I’m scared, Y/N.”

You reach down, pressing your hands firm against his shoulders as you squeeze.

“This isn’t the time to be scared, Falco. You’re okay. Spiderman’s right there and he’s dealing with-”

You look up to find Spiderman, trapped in the palm of the titan’s hand, a broken device in his hand and one splayed on the floor, not a few feet away from you. You leave Falco where he’s standing, scrambling over to inspect it.

It’s small and rectangular - blue and red splayed all over the intricate design work. In the tiniest of handwritings, there’s a small piece of text in the corner.

property of the spider gang bitch

Spider Gang? That’s so fucking corny.

You hear Spiderman yelling out at you, refocusing to your vision to him, where he’s still trapped in her hand.

“Mind giving me my webslinger back, sweetheart?”

“Uh- yeah. I-”

Before you can toss it up to him, the female titan stomps straight on to the concrete, knocking you and all the nearby outposts to the ground. Your ankle is immediately trapped under the mailbox to your right, the webslinger still in your hand.

You try your best to yank your leg out from the metal, but you can feel your ankle burning - the pressure on your leg making your chest writhe in pain. Falco runs over, his hands in your hair as his hot tears start hitting your cheeks.

“Hey. Hey hey hey. Falco, right?”

You both angle your head up, looking at Spiderman talking to the two of you. The titan’s still got him crushed in her hand, but she’s distracted by the sound of the police cars coming up the block. Falco’s taken a few steps forward, towards the stupid alien mutant whatever the fuck titan she is.

“You’re a strong kid, right?”

“Not really. I didn’t pass my physical test last week.”

“Not strong in that way, kid. Strong in the head, the heart.”

“Um. I don’t know, Spiderman. I’m kind of lame when it comes to stuff like this.”

Eren racks his head. He just needs his fucking webslinger back so he can get you guys out of here. And not get arrested. And not break every bone in his body from this death grip this naked lady has on him. And to make sure you’re okay.

“Kylo Ren. He was pretty lame when he started out too right? He had to go to the special Jedi school with Luke and kind of learn everything from the start.”

Eren sees Falco’s eyes light up, his tears lightly subsiding as he finally meets his eyes up to look at Eren. Bingo.

“Yeah.”

“And then he became really, really cool because he just tried it out right?”

“Yeah and then he became evil and got the Knights of Ren.”

“Okay, kid. Maybe ignore that part.”

He sees Falco laugh, the female titan squeezing him harder in his grasp as she looks around, the police helicopters, right on fucking cue, starting to surround the three of you.

“Okay, Falco. I need you to be strong. Like Kylo Ren, right now. Your sister, she’s got my webslinger in her hand. I need you to get it and then toss it to me. Can you do that?”

Eren watches Falco nod, turning back to grab his precious, precious web slinger and toss it up to him. He misses the first time. And then the second time. But on the third time, he aims just right, the magnetic latch sliding in and Eren webbing this stupid titan bitch right in the fucking eyes.

He swings down, lifting the metal mailbox from your legs as he lifts you into your arms, carrying you bridal style. He looks down at you - sweat coating your forehead and your eyes blinking closed. Falco’s at his side watching expectantly, his hand in his hair.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll get you to a hospital right away, okay?”

He watches you nod in pain, crimson red blood running down the side of your leg.

“Spiderman. Can I come too?”

“Kid. That’s a stupid question. Climb on my back. We’ll take Y/N to the hospital, okay?”

He swings away as the cops close in, the female titan encasing in steam as he swings away. He taps into his earpiece.

“Someone watch what happens. See if she escapes through the steam somehow since she’ll definitely be back. And where’s the closest hospital?”

“King Street, Eren. Pieck should be working.”

“Got it, Armin. Thank you.”

He swings as fast as he can, trying to ignore Falco’s death grip on his neck and your eyes fluttering closed as he swings into Pieck’s open window.

A special edition to the Spider Gang (unofficially, of course) - Pieck is the best fucking asset in the world. A Nurse Practitioner he once saved from getting robbed, she’s now indebted to him entirely. And she’s also his Aunt Hange’s girlfriend - not that either of them know he’s Spiderman.

Not that he would ever ask her for anything personal, he just brings injured civilians caught in his crossfire to her so he can avoid the whole - Are you Spiderman? Do the webs come out of your holes? Can you swing me to work later?

He swings into her office, laying you flat on the gurney in the center of the room and setting Falco down on the couch nearby.

As soon as he settles Falco into the chair, he feels his spider sense tingle and spreads his hand behind his neck, catching the syringe Pieck threw at him before it could hit him. He turns his back, smirking at Pieck through his mask.

“Pieck-chan.”

“I’m calling the police, SpiderFuck.”

“Cmon. I saved your life, you know?”

“That was one time. You’ve almost got me fired three times over.”

“Cmon, cmon Pieck. This girl, I know her. Just help her out, yeah? She’s really sweet, y’know that?”

He watches Pieck divert her eyes past him, focusing on you writhing on the gurney. She sighs as she smacks Eren on the side of the head, reaching forward to attend to your leg.

“Get out of here, SpiderAss. They’ll be circling around the building any minute.”

Eren runs up, tackling Pieck in a hug, before she can protest and swings out the window.

You haul your black boot up the door, knocking on the door. You can see “Zoe” inscribed into the little call box, ensuring that you did find the correct apartment from the directory. You can hear a loud rustling behind the door and the door swings open. You’re met with Hange, Eren’s aunt.

“Hi. My name is Y/N. I attend Shiganshina High School. I’m a classmate of Eren’s, I was wondering if he was here.”

“Pieck. Pieck! THERE’S A GIRL HERE TO SEE HIM.”

Eren’s aunt drags you in by the wrists, taking the tin of brownies in your hand and setting it on the table, as they inspect you. Their eyes are glinting with excitement as they smile at you, teetering on their ankles as they talk.

“Do you like Eren? Oh, isn’t he just so nerdy and sweet, I just love him. Do you love him?”

A hand comes straight into Hange’s hair, yanking them back. You follow the line of vision, seeing that the hand belongs to Pieck. The nurse that Spiderman dropped you off to. Only more proof that you’re right.

Pieck leans straight into Hange’s frame, rolling her eyes at Hange as she starts talking to you.

“We were starting to worry about the kid. I thought he was impotent or something.”

“Oh! Uh, no-”

Hange leans over into your space, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“How do you know he’s not impotent? Oh, you two better be having safe sex or I swear to god.”

“No! Oh, no no, I swear it’s not-”

Hange keeps rambling to themselves as they walk around the kitchen, yanking Pieck along with them. Pieck glances to your side, mouthing the words “he’s upstairs” as you shoot her a grateful smile and you start lugging your boot up the stairs.

You knock on the door, voices muffled on the inside as you peak in. When you swing open the door, you find Connie, Eren, Jean, and Armin in a very strange position. The four of them are clearly playing Twister - Eren’s face near Jean’s ass and Connie’s hand right near Armin’s…dick.

“Uh. Hi guys.”

At the sound of your voice, they all quirk their heads towards you, so shocked at your presence that they all tumble on each other. You hear Hange screaming from the bottom of the stairs, her words making your cheeks turn red.

“Eren Yeager. You better not be having sex with that girl in my house!”

You watch Eren tangle out of the mess, rubbing the back of his neck as he screams back at Hange, slamming the door shut. He helps Armin and Jean up, before he turns back to you - his cheeks glowing pink.

“Hi Eren.”

“Hi Y/N. What are you doing here? Is your leg okay?”

You hold out the card, embellished in your sparkly pink stationery and hold it out to him. You bought him a gift card - to Joe’s, the coffee shop near the highschool. You’d seen him bring a half empty cup to class a few times and figured it would be the best gift.

You had to thank him. Because your leg put you out of commission for a week, you hadn’t been coming to school. And he sent you all the assignments (and the answer keys) while you were out. And made sure to tell all the clubs to keep their emails to themselves until you were back. And if you’re right, he’s the one who saved your life.

“This is for you. Thank you - for the homework and the emails. It helped a lot.”

You lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, the skin soft and warm under your lips. Jean face plants on to the floor, Connie and Armin staring at you in shock.

“Right. I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you guys. You’re Connie, Armin, and Jean?”

They all nod, awkwardly shaking their heads as they plant on to Eren’s futon, Eren joining them on the seat. You sit right on Eren’s bed, the sheets Jurassic Park themed, as you face them.

Here goes.

“I know your secret.”

“We know yours.”

Eren smacks Jean across the back of his head, signaling him to shut up.

“I thought about it. Really hard when I was in the hospital. You see, I really didn’t have much to do.”

You lay back on Eren’s bed, pin pointing each of them and what you discovered by the line they’re sitting in. Jean first.

“You know, one of the biggest mysteries about Spiderman is how he manages to get to casualties and robberies so fast. They’re usually reported through the police department, the intercoms only going through the radio.”

The four of them are twitching at your words, after you casually drop the word Spiderman specifically, as you continue.

“There was a radio that went missing a few weeks ago. Police Officer Kirstein lost the intercom on his way home from his shift. It was never recovered.”

Jean turns red at the implication, his knees shaking as he drops his eyes. You’re right. You’re right, you’re right, you’re right. Connie next.

“And you know, Spiderman has a very cool suit. Blue and red, specially stitched and special fabric clothes. I’ve thought long and hard about who could have designed it, but really there’s only one good designer in New York. Lisa Braus.”

You turn your eyes to Connie, whose awkwardly looking around the walls, at anywhere but you.

“Lisa Braus is Sasha Braus’s mother. You know, I’ve heard she can be coerced really easily, she really loves her daughter. I’m sure if you, Connie, gave Sasha say - a promise of a lifetime of free lunches from your parents restaurant - she could have given in and gotten her mom to make the costume. No questions asked.”

Connie wrings his hand around his neck, groaning as he leans back into the futon. Armin’s hands are splayed right across his thighs, surely rubbing the sweat off on his slacks.

“And the web-slingers. Ingenious design, really. There’s only one person who beat me out at the Tech-A-Thon in ninth grade. And it was you, Armin. They have your name written all over it - the design, the metrics. Though, you’re getting kind of sloppy. From the few seconds I looked at it, I think you can pack more webs if you lay them diagonally against the hardware instead of vertically.”

You watch the gears move in Armin’s head as he thinks over your suggestion, turning to Eren to shrug. And then you look at Eren, leaning his elbows on his knees as he looks at you.

“And you. You’re Spiderman. That day, when you saved me and Falco. You told him to be strong, like Kylo Ren. But you don’t know Falco like that. All you know is what I’ve told you And there’s no way Spiderman could have known that - unless you were Spiderman.”

He leans over, his green eyes glaring into yours.

“That’s all a coincidence, Y/N. Maybe you hit your head when you fell on that mailbox.”

You falter for a second. You can’t be wrong. You can’t be wrong because you’re sure of it. You’ve thought it over for the past few days and he has to be. He has to be Spiderman.

“How do you know it was a mailbox? Stop lying, Eren. I know it’s you.”

“No, you don’t-”

Eren stands up and you join him, getting closer to him as you keep talking, trying to convince him that you know.

“You-you took me to Pieck when I got hurt. And while Pieck is just a nurse and anyone would do it, you took me to her specifically. Because you know she’ll fix it. Not just because she’s a nurse who cares about healing people but if she tries to rat you out - you can tell her you’re Spiderman. She’ll defend you like no other because you’re basically her pseudo-kid.”

“You’re making things up, Y/N.”

“And the earpiece. You said “got it, Armin” when you were carrying me to the hospital. I’ve looked and looked. Armin Arlert is the only Armin in Brooklyn. It’s a pretty unique name. And I know if you’re Spiderman and he’s probably the first person you told. You’ve been best friends forever and-

“Y/N. Seriously-

“No, Eren. Because Spiderman called me sweetheart! And I called you sweetheart when you called me bae and you told Pieck that you knew me and that I was a sweet girl when you thought I couldn’t hear you.”

You place your hands on his shoulders, boring your eyes into yours as he looks at you.

“Eren. You’re Spiderman. And I would never, ever tell anyone.”

You watch as he drops his gaze, muttering under his breath.

“Got me all figured out, don’t you sweetheart?”

Eren settles back down on the couch, as Connie, Jean, and Armin start their protests.

“Eren, you can’t just go around telling people you’re fucking Spiderman.”

“You’re a vigilante. Do you know that? Her dad is the fucking police captain who wants your head on a stick.”

“Spider Gang is already way too big as it is. Your identity will get revealed if you keep being an idiot.”

You clear your throat, the four of them craning their heads to look at you. You look down awkwardly at your hands as you sit back down on Eren’s bed, rustling with your keys in your pocket.

“You guys told me a secret. I can tell you one too.”

Jean leans forward, rolling his eyes at you.

“He just admitted he was Spiderman, sweetheart. I don’t think anything compares to that.”

Eren brings his hand down in Jean’s hair and yanks hard.

“Don’t call her that.”

You yank your keys out, fumbling with them in your hands openly.

“You guys know about “I Stand With Spiderman”?”

Connie rolls his eyes, glaring at you.

“Obviously. Shit’s a fucking revolution at this point.”

“I started it. The pins and the spray art and telling everyone.”

You watch the four of them go slack jawed, for what feels like the tenth time today, staring you down. Armin speaks first this time, standing up to run his hand through his hair.

“You-you’re the Lions?”

“Yeah. It’s a stupid name, but-”

Jean cuts you off, nearly strangling you as he shakes your entire frame in his hands.

“That’s fucking impossible. Your dad is a bigger pig than mine and there’s no way in hell his fucking daughter is the one who started the thing that protects Eren every time he’s out there.”

“That’s just the point, Jean. I got mad at my dad. So I started it. I think Spiderman’s the best thing that happened in the community and I knew that people agreed with me. So I did what I knew how to do. Spray paint. Pins. The people.”

Eren stands up, yanking Jean off to grab your hands and lock his fingers with yours.

“The Lions?”

You clear your throat, explaining.

“Harry and Hermione are Gryffindors. And Gryffindors are lions.”

You can feel your cheeks turn pink - from Eren staring at you so close and holding your hands and Armin smiling at the two of you in your peripheral vision. You hold your keys up, dangling them between yours and Eren’s face, your shiny little Lego Harry Potter key chain making Eren’s eyes light up.

Eren lets go of your hands and starts rummaging through his drawers, looking for something. He pulls out a small black string. Her reaches up to push your loose hairs behind your ears, stringing the piece through your ear.

He taps on his own ear, speaking into the mic. His voice vibrates through your, a beaming smile on his face.

“Y/N. Welcome to Spider Gang.”

“That’s a really corny nickname, Eren. Could you really not come up with anything better?” you laugh, smiling at him.

“Says the girl who named a fucking revolution after Harry Potter.” Jean speaks up, glaring at you as he talks.

“Jean. Shut the fuck up.”

“Sorry, Eren.”

Eren’s swinging through the buildings, clutching the side of his thigh as he retreats back to his apartment.

Stupid fucking female titan. He’s been encountering her here and there - a total of six times now and he still has yet to understand what she’s doing.

She appears out of nowhere, in locations that have no thread of connection - the elementary school, the coffee shop on the block near the bodega, the botanical garden all the way out of Brooklyn.

He can’t figure it out. She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t talk. No matter how many times he insults her for being a naked pervert, she still doesn’t break.

When he makes it back to his apartment, swinging into his room through the open window, he finds his spider team…down. Armin and Connie are sprawled on the ground, hair all messy and tiredness pressed on their faces as they pore over the new web-slinger designs. Jean’s on the computer, six empty cans of redbull on his desk as he pores over the footage, trying to figure out how she escaped.

And you. You’re sprawled on Eren’s dinosaur sheets, using the DNA samples he gave you as a pillow, lightly drooling onto the results. He reaches down, lifting your head gently as he places it back down onto a real pillow, as you mumble on in your sleep.

“Is she okay, Armin?”

“Ah. She might be taking her Spider Gang duties a little bit too seriously than the rest of us. That and she’s more busy - she’s still doing all of her class president and internship stuff on top of this.”

He sees you move in your sleep, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand, as you focus in on your surroundings. The second you see Eren, the gash in his thigh, you jump up from the bed, scooting over to examine the gash.

“Eren. Are you okay? You’re okay, right? Because I think I might be on to something and you can get her next time. I-I think she goes to our school or maybe-”

Eren presses his hand to your knee as you take the seat next to him, leaning over to look at the gash.

“Guys. Can I talk to her alone please? And get my dinner from Pieck, there’s no way I can hide this from her.”

Armin, Connie, and Jean close the door behind him, leaving you to help Eren strip out of his suit. You’re trying your best to be gentle - pausing every time he hisses and groans in pain, lightly pulling the fabric out of the gash on his thigh.

After it’s off, you reach for the kit Jean stole from Pieck’s room, cleaning and bandaging the wound. You try your best to not focus on the fact that Eren’s just wears his boxers under the suit and he’s just wearing his boxers right now in front of you.

“Hey.”

“Hi Eren.”

“You know, you don’t have to take your Spider Gang duties so seriously. We’re all trying to figure out who she is and the bulk of it doesn’t have to fall on you.”

“Spider Gang is a stupid name. And yes, I do. They barely spend any time thinking about it - with Jean trying to push back on all the initiatives they’re putting into stop you and Connie and Armin trying to perfect your tech so you can last longer.”

“I last just fine. I just mean…you’re busy. Take a break, I don’t like seeing you guys all so worn out.”

You push hard on the wound on accident, Eren groaning in pain.

“Sorry. But we don’t like seeing you hurt Eren. You’re literally bleeding onto your futon right now and that’s not exactly a fun thing to see either.”

He tilts his head down, his eyes in front of yours.

“Worried about me, sweetheart?”

You feel your cheeks burn, placing your hand in his hair to move his head out of the way. You start placing the bandages over the mark, smoothing them out with your hands.

“Yes, Eren. Sue me. You’re fighting a crazy, perverted naked lady everyday. Arrest me if it’s so criminal to worry about you.”

Eren laughs as he places one of his hands around your face, angling your face up so you look at him. You’re glaring at him, which Eren only returns a soft smile to.

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m Spiderman.”

“Yes. You’re Spiderman. Not God, Eren. You can get hurt. And you just did. And she’s crazy and-

Eren presses his hands around your waist, pulling you in his lap to sit on him. You’re careful not to rest your legs against his wound, your arms secured around his neck and his around your waist.

“Y/N. Are you scared of her?”

You can feel the tears burning in your eyes at the question, your heart dropping in your chest.

“Horrified, Eren. She-she knocked that mailbox onto my leg and had you in her hand and I just-I thought she was going to crush you and then Falco next. And I dream about it all the time, and it’s just- my leg still doesn’t feel the same and it hurts and-”

Eren tangles one of his hands around your neck, laying your face flat against his neck as he rubs small circles into your back. You’re crying - wet tears falling onto his neck as you rack sobs into his neck.

You’re not going to get hurt. You’re not going to get hurt because he’s Spiderman and he’s going to protect you. And there’s no point in him having any of this if you feel this way.

“You were really brave that day, Y/N. You and Falco.”

“Just Falco, Eren. You-you made him so brave, I feel like his confidence has been better lately and-”

“Even if you were petrified, you were still brave regardless. I’ve seen it happen - people freeze up in shock, freak out when they’re faced with things like this. But here you are, still fighting it, in the way that you can. You’re brave, sweetheart.”

You avoid the tingling in your chest at the nickname, his hands on yours, and his sweet, sweet voice in your ears.

He’s going to find that fucking female titan if it’s the last thing he does.

“Armin, what the fuck happened? Why did we just lose connection?”

The four of you - Armin, Connie, Jean, and you - are currently locked in the computer lab, six hours after the school closed. You had planned it all out, set a trap for the Female Titan underneath the school, so that Eren could catch her once and for all.

The problem? Eren just went underground. And he had been talking to you for the last twenty minutes. But you heard it, that loud, high-pitched feminine voice and then static in all four of your earpieces.

Armin’s smacking on his computer, Jean clicking through all the footage. All of the camera’s are still up and running, all but one on static. You stop Jean in his stead, as Armin and Connie smack on the computer, trying to fix the ear pieces.

“Wait, wait, Jean. Where is that?”

“Girls locker room. The volleyball team was there last.”

You lean over to Connie, opening his computer as you log into your accounts. Jean’s leaning over your chair, both of you hovering as you log into your administrative office account.

“What gives, Y/N?”

“Jean. The girl, female pervert whatever. She must have transformed in there and broke the camera. Whichever girl didn’t log in for practice today, since there’s no way that girl isn’t injured from the fight she had with Eren last night, has to be the girl we’re looking for. Attendance in class but not in practice.”

Armin, Jean, and Connie lean over your neck as you log into the account, loading the nursing record for today. And then you find it.

Annie Leonhart has requested a medical leave of absence for the week due to an extenuating injury. She may return to regular practice next week.

Signed Pieck Finger, N.P.

Armin all but falls out of his chair, quickly getting up to fix the computers.

“Shit shit shit shit shit.”

You grab his shoulder, basically strangling him as you ask. Because why the fuck is he so worried that Annie is the fucking female pervert?

“What’s wrong, Armin? Why are you so panicked?”

“Annie. She suspects that Eren is Spiderman. And she…she wants to know who he is for sure, she’s told me that before. And if she puts him into a corner, she’s going to expose him to the police.”

You feel your throat run dry as the tears start working their way up to your eyes, burning hot. No. Because they’re going to arrest Eren. Maybe even kill him and-

Connie drops his laptop straight onto the floor, his eyes weary as he looks up at the ceiling.

“What now, Connie?”

“Y/N. It-it’s Friday. Meaning, they’re resetting the plumbing for the weekend and-”

Armin speaks up next, racking his hands through his hair.

“Oh my god. The sink waters flooding in the tunnels. He’s done for.”

You grab Armin by the collar, the anger seething in your chest.

“Why is he done for? What’s wrong with the water, Armin?”

“The webs. We haven’t perfected them yet and they dissolve in water. And it’s not a big deal because it’s not raining yet but-”

Now you get it.

“He’s down there with no defenses. And Annie’s going to get him any second. And tell everyone who he is.”

Jean grabs you by the shoulders, shaking your head as he fixes your hair against your ears.

“Think. Think, Y/N. You must know something about how to turn it off - you sit through all those administrative board meetings and talk to every fucking faculty member at this school because you’re a goody two shoes. You must know something.”

And then you remember. The only way to turn off the water is to go down there, close off the pipes manually.

You leave the three of them in the computer leg and sprint on your bad leg, down to where you know Eren’s waiting for you.

Connie, Armin, and Jean find you an hour later. You’re in the tunnels, where they set their trap, with a huge gash on the side of your head and a very bruised and battered Eren in your hands. You’re crying hard, your hands soft on Eren’s hands trying to will him to wake up.

Connie and Jean loop their arms around Eren’s, prying him out of your arms to lift him out of the tunnels. Armin helps you up, supporting your bad leg.

“What happened, Y/N?”

“I got down here, Tried turning off all the pipes manually. Eren was still trying his best, climbing around when I got most of the pipes off. She delt a few good blows but I mentioned that I knew she’s Annie and she kind of….ran off. She wasn’t really trying to…expose him or anything but I feel like she was trying to get the tech.”

“You okay? I know she scares you and…”

“Yeah. I just-we have to take Eren to Pieck. We can’t fix him on our own-”

“No. No he wouldn’t want us to.”

“He can’t want anything if he’s dead.”

“He’s not dead.”

“You-you don’t know that. He’s not invincible just because he’s Spiderman, he-he’s just Eren. And he can get hurt and I don’t want him to die and-”

Armin wordlesly agrees to take Eren to Pieck, the five of you piling into Jean’s car. Eren’s next to you, still not awake with his head slackly leaned against your shoulders.

When you reach the apartment, Connie, Jean, and Armin task themselves with bringing Eren in as you explain to Hange and Pieck. You knock on the door, teary eyed to Hange and Pieck responding, worry in their eyes at the blood leaking down the side of your face.

Pieck reaches forward, lifting your face in her hands which you swat off.

“P-Pieck. H-Hange. It’s Eren and he…he’s not okay. Please just help him without asking anything, I don’t want him to die on us.”

Connie and Jean drag Eren in, lifting him onto the couch as Hange racks back sobs. You go to Hange’s side, squishing them in an embrace as Pieck gets to work, cursing under her breath as she goes on.

“Wake up, SpiderFuck. Of course, this dumbass bothering me for the past three months is our kid. I’m going to kill you, you son of a bitch when you wake up, you know that? Stupid SpiderMotherfucker, I hate you-”

Pieck works around him, taking Hange from your arms as she leaves the two of you in the living room when she’s done. Connie, Jean, and Armin leave you with him - already working on figuring out where Annie went upstairs.

You take Eren’s hand in yours, squeezing tight as you whisper to him.

“Wake up. Wake up, Eren.”

No response.

“Come on. You can’t be serious. You-you’re Spiderman and you don’t get hurt and-”

No response.

“I….I can’t be brave without you, please be okay.”

No fucking response. You lay your forehead flat against the table as the sobs rack through you, Eren’s uneven breaths continuing on the table.

“Please, Eren. Come back to me.”

You feel a hand at the top of your hair, pressing down to the length of your neck. You look up to find Eren, weakly smiling at you as he winces. You sit up immediately, tears still streaming down to your neck, as you cup his face in your hands.

“Eren.”

“Quit crying, sweetheart. I’m Spiderman.”

You laugh through your sobs as you press yourself against his chest, hugging him as softly as you can. You can feel his hands on your back, jaggedly circlcing into the small of your back.

“Where are we?”

“Your house. Pieck fixed you up and-”

He sits up, groaning as he glares at you.

“Don’t tell me you told them that I was-”

“I had to, Eren. I thought you were dead and-”

“I wasn’t dead. I’m Spiderman!”

“Spiderman can die, Eren. And you didn’t fucking wake up.”

“I heal supernaturally fast. You should have given me a minute to come to.”

“The fact that you needed Pieck’s medical attention to come to right now, four hours after the fact, tells me that you weren’t fucking okay, Eren! And they don’t care and-”

“You think my aunt, Hange, who watched my parents fucking die in front of me doesn’t care that I risk my fucking life on the line everyday? They fucking care!”

“It’s not a big deal, they just want you to be okay and-”

“And what the fuck were you doing down in the tunnel? Don’t pretend like I don’t see that fucking gash on your pretty face and I’m just ignoring it right now.”

You can feel the anger seething in your chest and you really, really want to smack Eren right about now.

“We figured it out. Annie Leonhart, the girl from the soccer team, she’s the pervert titan. And she’s-she’s trying to expose you as Spiderman. Or maybe not, I don’t know. And the water tunnels were on and I know your webs dissolve in water and I just-”

“You just what? Thought you’d run down them and turn them off?”

“Yeah, asshole. For you.”

“You know the best part of Spider Gang. You’re the team in the chair. Do you understand what that means? You keep your ass in the chair and away from shit like this!”

“I can’t just sit by and do that.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I’m not Connie or Armin or Jean. I’m not just your friend who can sit by and let you get hurt. You’re-you’re not just”

“What am I then, huh?”

“You’re the guy I love. I can’t just fucking watch you bleed out from a tunnel and pretend it’s okay, Eren.”

You’re both panting, chests heaving from screaming so loudly. Eren closes the space between you, pressing his lips to yours as you melt under his touch. You can taste metal - surely from the cut on his lip - but you can also taste mint, definitely from the stupid pocket he made for Altoids in his suit. He’s smiling against your lips, leaning his weight on you as you rest your forehead against his.

“Guy you love, huh?”

“Shut up. When did you become so cocky, Eren?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pushing your burning cheeks into his shoulder as he laughs against your ears. The next questions genuine, his voice wavering when he asks.

“Do you only love me because I’m Spiderman, Y/N?”

“No. I love Spiderman because he gives Eren the confidence to talk to me. You…you’ve always been so shy and stand-offish with me since we were kids, I…kind of thought you hated me. But Jean told me, you’re just really awkward.”

“Remind me to kick Jean’s ass.”

“And…I always liked you. You know, we really didn’t need pictures of each of the clubs. I already took those during club registration at the beginning of the year. I just wanted an excuse to be around you and I think that’s technically an abuse of power but-”

He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours once again, leaning so hard on you that you both get knocked on the couch. You’re both laughing, smiling so hard that Hange and Pieck and the rest of Spider Gang comes down to find you two giggling on the couch.

Now that Eren’s sentient, Hange yells at him for three things. One. Being Spiderman. Two. Being a dumbass and getting hurt. Three. Attempting to have sex with this girl on the couch.

And then they ask if Eren should be taken to a vet, since he’s technically half spider.

The five of you corner Annie later that week. And she confesses it all - that she didn’t know when this power happened, or what came over her, or even what’s going on. And that she doesn’t want to expose Spiderman, she wanted the technology.

She wants to know what’s wrong with her. And she figured that if she knew who Spiderman was, if she could lure him out by stealing his tech, she can find the person who makes his tech and have them help her.

Eren extends his hand first. Promising that Spider Gang (a name that she snorts at) promises to help her figure it out and control it if she promises to not wreck havoc or drop mailboxes on your leg again. And she explains that she has no control when it comes over her, that she really doesn’t want to hurt people.

When Armin figures it out and when Annie can control it, she’s instated as the sixth member of SpiderGang. Eighth if you count Pieck and Hange.

And she doesn’t scare you. It’s nice to have another girl on the team. Especially one who hates “Spider Gang” as much as you. And it’s sweet to watch Armin and Annie bustle around each other, working on perfecting the tech.

And to watch Jean and Connie tease them. And to have Eren swing you around in New York and sneak into your bed every night and save lives all around the city.

Okay. Let’s do this one last time.

My name is Eren Jeager. I was bitten by a radioactive spider. And for the last six months, I’m the one and only Spiderman, equipped with a fully functional Spider Team. Officially dubbed, begrudingly, the Spider Gang.

Connie and Jean, codenames C-Man and Horseface (since using real names got me exposed the last time) are my surveillance team. Surveying out my enemies, making sure the cops don’t get to me - they’re important reconnaissance for each mission.

Armin and Annie, codenames Ocean Eyes and Pervert Lady (don’t ask). They’re my technical geniuses. Always redefining my tech, fixing up my webs to make them stronger, faster. There’s no Spiderman without Spidertech.

And Y/N, codename Sweetheart. My girl in the chair. And the one in my heart too. Not only does she figure out motives, figure out motives/identities/locations for every villain and plan out every attack before I do it, but she’s the main reason Spiderman even exists.

Why I fight so hard.

I have to keep Brooklyn safe for my girl.

584 notes · View notes

mediocrecherry · 11 months

Text

your fiercest protectors

roommate eren x f!reader

you and eren realize things after spending a weekend in shiganshina

**find the series masterlist here

content: porco (trigger warning), mentions of someone in the hospital, ymir and historia being the best girlfriends, multiple people yaga eren, eren slander, porco slander, carla yeager best woman, mentions of being in the closet

an: no notes. i appreciate your funny replies and reblogs bc they make my day. enjoy da chapter baes

“Hey. Left dinner on the counter, peaches.”

He watches you drop your keys on the counter and immediately bolt past the food, rushing into your room. He can hear you scrambling around in there - dropping things, lightly talking to yourself, looking for something.

He gets up - slightly leaning against the frame of your doorway as he watches you. You’re running from corner to corner, shoving random items into your backpack as you rush around. A spare change of clothes, a banana (?), and nearly everything on your kitchen sink.

“About to go riding in the Getaway Car?”

He sees your features configure into confusion as you nearly trip over your spare pair of sneakers, filling the brim of your backpack.

“What?”

“Like the…Taylor Swift song? Nevermind. Where are you going? Do you really need six t-shirts for your lecture?”

“N-no. I’m going home. Or to Shiganshina, I’m not sure.”

He can feel his heart sinking in his chest, getting a cruel reminder of what happened last time you went home. You left for three days. You didn’t even talk to him once. You can’t go. He can’t let you go.

“What? You can’t just drop everything and go. You have class today, it’s Friday. And work this weekend.”

You give him the side-eye as you rush out of the room, grabbing the last few things you needed from the kitchen. He follows, pressing his shoulders against your frame to slow you down. You immediately brush him off, Eren’s hands returning back to his sides.

“Eren. Get off.”

“Why are you in such a rush? What happened?”

“I don’t have time for your mixed signal shit today, Eren. Please, go suck Hitch off in a corner somewhere and leave me alone.”

Eren, for better lack of imagery, feels like a kicked dog. Because what happened? The two of you were doing so well - you were coming to his soccer games again, the two of you were even closer than you were before everything happened, but you’re all…standoffish, cold again.

He can hear Levi and Erwin’s advice ringing in his ears.

“If she’s mad at you, just ask her why dumbass. Would it kill you to communicate or emote like a normal human person?”

“Levi’s right. I’m sure the two of you would be back on the same page if you just confronted what happened, even if it is a little uncomfortable.”

Right. Just ask her why. He reaches down, locking his hands with yours. He likes holding your hands - it makes it easier. He can feel you struggling against him but he just tightens the pressure until you finally look up - your eyes meeting his.

“Peaches. What happened?”

And then he sees it. The tears, brimming in your waterline. You’re crying. The tension in your shoulders, the tiredness in your face, your hair standing up on its end - something is wrong. He can feel his heart writhing in his chest, the sight of you hurt making him mixed levels of angry, hurt, and weirdly protective - on your behalf.

He wraps his arms directly around you, resting his head on top of yours as you cry into his shirt. He can feel your death grip on his arms, your entire frame shaking against his.

“It-It’s Pieck and Ethan. She’s sick and Pock didn’t tell me. And it-it got worse. They’re moving her to some hospital in Shiganshina and h-he wants me to watch Ethan while P-Pieck gets surgery.”

“Hey. Peaches. Deep breaths first, okay? I’ve got you but you need to calm down.”

He lifts his hands up, swiping away the wetness as your cheek as he watches you, guiding your breathing. He can see your breathing visually slowing down - your shaking and hiccups subsiding. Your face is still in his hold and you’re frowning up at him - Eren’s fighting every muscle in his body to not kiss your pouty little lips right at this second.

“Okay. Let me pack my things and we’ll go, yeah?”

He leaves your side, grabbing his backpack off the couch and grabbing everything he needs from his room. He feels you at his side - mentally preparing himself to argue with your protests he knew were coming.

“You can’t come with me. You have soccer practice.”

“No game for two weeks. Doesn’t matter.”

“You have class later today.”

“Recorded.”

“You have work.”

“Sick day.”

“Ren.”

He stops in his tracks, turning around to face you. Do you have to be this stubborn?

“I’ll worry sick if I let you drive down there like this, especially downtown to Shiganshina with the traffic. Listen, Porco’s wife is sick. If he likes her half as much as you told me, he’s probably losing his mind right now. You’re going to have to help him, take care of him when we get down there. And that’s fine. I just want to come to make sure that I’m there to take care of you.”

He sees your shoulder deflate as you press your forehead against his chest. He reaches forward, running his hands through the ends of your hair as he whispers in your ear. He can feel that your tears have returned, falling straight onto his forearms.

“My dad works at a hospital down there and if my hunch is right, that’s where Pieck is going. I’ll pull strings so you guys can see her and you can stay with us instead of buying a hotel.”

“Ren. You don’t have to do that. Pock and I would never impose like that. And I’ll be okay without you, I-”

“Let me help you. My mom will wring my neck out if she finds out you’re down there and you didn’t stay with us. That I didn’t come down with you. And it’ll make it easier too - we’ll take care of you guys, I’ll be with you the entire time. You can meet my other friends while we’re down there, take your mind off of things, play with Ethan.”

“Are you going to take no for an answer?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Okay. Let’s go then. Pock sent me the address.”

You and Eren make it to Shiganshina a little past midnight. You had dozed off on the ride there, but when you came to, Eren had updated you.

He was right - Pieck was in the hospital that Eren’s dad worked at. She was on the same floor as him, meaning that he was able to sneak you in past visiting hours just so you could see her for a few minutes. You called Eren a hospital nepo-baby, which he ignored.

When you two get to Porco, who was sitting directly outside Pieck’s room, you’re floored. He looks fucking horrible. His hair is unruly, all tangled at the top of his forehead - you’re sure from him running his hands through it hundreds of times. His face looks sunken in, the stress sitting right in his jaw that he was clenching to oblivion.

“Pock.”

The second he sees you, he nearly jumps up, wrapping his arms around you as he starts crying. You make eye contact with Eren as your eyes start welling up and he lightly shakes his head, using his hands to signal you to deepen your breathing. He mouths the words to you, calming you down. Don’t cry. It’s okay.

“I’m mad at you, Porco.”

“I’m mad at you too, Y/N.”

You pull out of his arms, lightly pushing him as you glare at him. “You didn’t tell me Pieck was sick. You should have called me - ages ago.”

“I know. I wanted to. But she asked me not to, you know she hates to bother you.”

“You guys are my best friends. You could never bother me. I feel like you guys don’t tell me anything anymore.”

“We don’t tell you anything? Imagine how I felt finding out you’re dating this bloody hippie from his dad in the hallway earlier. I thought you were better than guys with man buns.”

He gestures towards Eren, who was sheepishly standing at your side. You had forgotten all about him while arguing with Porco - but where the fuck does he get off saying all that? How is this even the same?

“Leave him alone. The hair works for him, he looks cute. And in what world is that the same - I forgot to tell you I’m dating the guy and you forgot to tell me that my best friend has been sick in the hospital for the past few weeks.”

“It’s the same when it’s this guy. You literally dropped everything and stayed with us for a weekend because he hurt your feelings. And now you’re dating him? He better have groveled on his fucking knees.”

You can feel your heart sinking in your chest, seeing Eren’s fists clench out of the corner of your eye. Stupid fucking loudmouth Porco.

“He did, okay? I’ll tell you later.”

You both stop your argument when Dr. Yeager walks over, a stack of papers pressed into his hand.

“Okay Porco. This should clear you to stay for the night. If anyone gives you trouble, just ca-Y/N!”

At the sight of you, you see his features spread into a smile as he wraps his arms around you, packing you into a warm hug. Yeah, this is Carla’s husband, alright.

“Are you doing okay? Carla’s set up everything for the two of you at the house. Ethan too, okay? You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Thank you so much. We’re really sorry for imposing out of nowhere-”

“Nonsense. You’re like a daughter to us. You know she’s been bugging Eren to bring you down since that last game. And sure, these aren’t the best circumstances, but hopefully we can make it a little easier.”

He gives you and Eren one last hug before walking away, leaving the three of you in the hallway.

“Hey Wannabe Hozier. Take her home. Make sure she sleeps and eats something.”

“Always do.”

“Yeah, you better. I’d wring your neck out if you didn’t”

You roll your eyes as Eren gives him a nod, the two of you walking out of the hospital in silence. You’re trying to think - what’s the best possible excuse to explain what he said without giving it away. Yeah, I was crying because I didn’t want you to like Hitch, I wanted you to like me.

The second you get out of the hospital, the cold breeze hits you and he still doesn’t talk. And it’s scaring you. You know him - you were half expecting him to get mad, start arguing with you the way he had with Marlowe or Jean on occasion. You were waiting for it, for him to yell at you, argue with you till you told him why.

But he didn’t. He’s quiet, solemn even. You’re going to kill Porco.

“Eren, I-”

“No.”

“It wasn’t really a big thing, it was just-”

He turns to face you, his green eyes staring into yours. They’re uncharacteristically soft, a twinge of hurt in them. This is worse than anger.

“Peaches. We’ll talk about it when we go home, okay? I’m not sure what I did but just know I’m so..so fucking sorry I ever made you feel like that. But you’re here for Porco and Ethan and I’m here for you so…this can wait.”

That’s when you realize it. You had thought it for the first time, after that stupid party where Eren pushed Marlowe in the pool. Do you love Eren?

And now you know. That you most definitely do. Because if it were you in his spot, if Eren had kept hurt feelings away from you, you would have dragged him out by the fucking scalp and wrang his neck out for not telling you sooner. But here he is, dropping everything to be here for you - his classes, his job, even his own fucking feelings just to make sure you’re okay.

You love him. You love Eren.

“Ren. I promise, I’ll tell you everything okay. I want to, you’re like-”

He gives you a soft smile, his eyes still pinched up like they were before.

“I’ll hold you to that, okay? Promise you’ll tell me everything?”

“Okay.”

The words are on the tip of your tongue. I love you. Because now that you’ve realized it - you want to tell him. Tell him that you appreciate him, that you love his friends and his family, that he listens to Taylor Swift for you, dances with you in the kitchen, kisses your scars.

You love him. Deeply. Overwhelmingly. Definitively.

He holds his hand out, leading you back to his car in the dark of the parking lot. It can wait.

to the scouts

eren: 911. mikasa’s house, 8 am tomorrow.

mikasa: are you back in town?

eren: yes. y/n’s best friend is sick and shes at wall rose general. we’re both down here for the weekend

connie: BESTIE Y/N GRACING THE STREETS OF SHIGANSHINA

sasha: someone’s gotta find that yearbook picture of eren with the nearly bald head we gotta show her

ymir: one attachment

eren removed ymir from the chat

historia added ymir to the chat

eren: you can see her after mikasa’s okay? but don’t freak her out, she’s taking care of her godson and she’s stressed about the entire thing

reiner: how old is he?

eren: five months

historia: baby fever.

sasha: baby yeager on the way next week

ymir: lets hope for her sake the baby they’re about to make takes her genes and not eren’s

eren: you guys are perverted.

mikasa: one look at y/n doting over the baby you’re going to lose your mind.

bertholdt: congratulations on the baby!

connie: ok grandpa. lets get back in bed.

eren: everyone stfu. eight tomorrow.

As irritating as they all can be, they all meet Eren at Mikasa’s house the next morning. He leaves you fast asleep in his bed, fixing your hair, before taking off across the street.

And as promised - Connie, Sasha, Ymir, Historia, Reiner, and Bertholdt are on Mikasa’s porch, the eight of you heading up to Mikasa’s room for the emergency meeting he called.

“You better have woken us up for something good, Yeager.”

“Shut up, Ymir.”

The six of them scatter all over Mikasa’s room - Historia and Ymir lying down on the floor, Sasha and Mikasa sprawled on the bed, and Reiner and Bertholdt on the couch. He pulls out Mikasa’s old industrial whiteboard, handing the marker to Connie before turning to the room.

“You guys have to help me. Y/N is mad at me, or she was a while ago and I made her cry, but I can’t figure out why.”

“Historia and I can list ten reasons. Straight off the top of our heads - you smell, you’re stupid, your hair is too long, you always have the same shirt on, you-”

“Ymir.”

They all snicker as Ymir stops, the frustration building in Eren’s forehead. They have to take this fucking seriously. You’re mad at him. He spent all night trying to figure out why but he can’t.

“Just-just help me okay? I don’t know why she’s mad and it’s driving me fucking crazy to think that she hurt and I had no idea.”

He sees Historia soften, pulling at the ends of Ymir’s hair softly before speaking. Ymir stops rambling, rolling her eyes as she focuses her attention back to Eren.

“Okay. Explain it from the start. I’m sure you just missed something. Connie, take notes.”

He gives her a smile before continuing, facing the board.

“I met her at Armin’s. She was out of a place to stay because of her roommate, Nifa, who didn’t tell her she was rooming with someone else. I offered her the spare room.”

He watches Connie scribble onto the board, starting the timeline.

“That’s not even what I said.”

“It’s like English class. You should always write in your own words, Eren. That’s plagiarism”

“You wrote ‘Eren down bad for Y/N. Offers her room in apartment bc he thinks they’re Nick and Jess from New Girl’ How is that even remotely similar to what I said?”

“Keep going, Eren.”

“Okay, Sash.”

So he explains. That you were sweet - checked his eye injuries when he got sick. That he took care of you when you got the flu and you took care of him when he was drunk. That you met his parents, the day of the concert, and the one after.

Mikasa stops him mid-sentence, standing up.

“Stop. It has to be somewhere here, before she left. You said she saw Porco right after that, when she left for three days, so that must have been what he was talking about. It was something that morning.”

“She’s right. Walk through that exact morning again, Eren.”

“Okay, Hisu. I woke up and she was still asleep. It was my turn to do groceries but I forgot so I went to pick up brunch for us from the diner she likes. There was a flower stand on the way there so I stopped to get flowers.”

“That’s so sweet. You’re such a romantic, Eren.”

“Reiner. Do not ever say those words, in that order, to me ever again. I left her a note saying I would come back but when I did, Hitch was there. I asked her what she was doing there and then she asked me if I missed her. I said yes but-”

Historia stands up from her place on the floor and tangles her hands into Eren’s hair. And then fucking yanks.

“Are you fucking stupid, Eren?”

“What?”

At the sound of his confusion, he sees everyone’s expressions change. Mikasa is shaking her head, disappointedly, while Sasha and Connie murmur under their breaths that he deserved to get a hair yanking for that. All while Ymir’s laughing.

“What the fuck is so funny, Ymir?”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Eren. You went all out of your way to make her feel special just for there to be another girl in your apartment the next day. And you told her you missed her?”

Reiner stands up, putting his hand on Eren’s shoulder.

“That was it right. That was all you did with that girl?”

“Well, Y/N called me a mistake after that. She didn’t really like me, I just thought that she did. So I kept the deal that I had with her. I mean, someone deserves to be happy, right?”

Ymir’s crying real tears at the sound of this. And now Sasha and Mikasa are tag teaming it, yanking on Eren’s hair just like Historia had.

“You’re a real fucking idiot, Eren. She doesn’t think you’re a fucking mistake - she thinks you don’t like her.”

“That can’t be true, Sasha. I pushed a guy in a fucking pool for talking to her once and I literally kissed her on the forehead on accident last week. She doesn’t like me.”

“Yeah but you also go to parties with another girl. Hold her hand, show her off. Even if she knows it’s like that, it must hurt.”

“That’s how you know you’re an idiot, Eren. Even Bertholdt gets it.”

“Ymir. Be nice.”

He’s leaning against Mikasa’s walls, his head in his hands. He’s a fucking idiot. Even if you said you didn’t like him, why was he so keen to help someone else? And even if you started liking him again, or if you even did, he probably squashed any hopes you had by bringing Hitch around. He’s a fucking dumbass.

“I’m positive she didn’t like me before all of that. The concert and what not. She called us a mistake and that’s okay. But now, I-I don’t know how she feels. When we came back from that, it was different and we were closer. And if she likes me, I don’t want to mess it up. Tell me what to do.”

“It’s simple, Eren. End things with Hitch. Tell her how you feel.”

“Easier said than done, Ymir.”

They all walk over afterwards, meeting you for breakfast. You were awake when he got there, Porco leaning on the counter as he helped his mom make breakfast. Sasha and Connie immediately bolted to you, jumping up and down and shaking you in their arms as they greeted you. You all settled in for making breakfast together, with you and Porco leaving for the hospital right after.

“So let me get this straight. Your name is Porco. Your wife’s name is Pieck. But you named your kid, Ethan?”

“Yes.”

“What the hell? You gotta name him something wack like you guys - like Penguin or Pacino or some shit.”

“Pacino. You’ve got to be kidding me. Like Al Pacino, the Godfather. What the hell is Connie supposed to be short for?”

“Nothing. It’s just Connie.”

“Where the fuck do you get off telling me about names? There’s no way in hell your birth certificate has Connie written on it.”

“Your wife’s maiden name is Finger. Finger. Like phalanges. You can’t be serious right now.”

“You better not start with me. What does Ymir even mean?”

You walk over to Eren, who was watching the three of them argue on the other side of the kitchen just like you were. You had taken Ethan from Porco the second he started talking to Connie and were attempting to save his tiny little ears from the screaming going on. You lean over and whisper into Eren’s ear, trying to hold your laughter.

“Who are you placing your money on?”

“Porco. He’s so scary.”

“What the hell? I was going to say Ymir, she’s horrifying.”

“Look at the way he’s clenching his jaw. It’s going to break if he does it any harder.”

“He’s just ugly. And look at Ymir’s - her jaw is clenched way more than his is. I’ll give you ten bucks. She wins the argument.”

He looks over at you and Ethan, the way he’s quietly resting against your chest. He can see Mikasa and Historia smirking at him from their side of the room and he glares in response. Baby fever hiss ass.

“Ow. Ow ow ow. Ethan, love let go of my hair.”

He looks back over to find Ethan’s hand curled into a tiny fist, with your hair tangled beneath it. He’s yanking you down by the hair, his little eyes glinting. Okay, maybe baby fever is a thing.

“Eren. Just grab his hand and uncurl it.”

“Won’t that hurt him?”

“He’s a baby, not a porcelain doll, Ren.”

He reaches over, placing his hands on Ethan’s as he lightly opens it up. He releases your hair, instead choosing to enclose his tiny little fists around Eren’s hand. He watches you lean over, whispering into his ear.

“That’s Eren. You know he stinks real bad, just like you after you poop the bed.”

“Y/N.”

“Remember the Mexican food. That was an atrocity to humanity. I couldn’t use the bathroom for three days.”

“You used it right after me. That wasn’t just me.”

“Well. Girls don’t fart, so I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The two of you laugh, as you lean your head on to Eren’s shoulder, pressing Ethan closer to your chest. You watch everyone mill around the kitchen, Carla trying her best to accommodate everyone in the room.

She’s at the stove with Mikasa, making the eggs while Reiner and Bertholdt set the table. Sasha and Historia are making the pancake batter and you’re supposed to be making orange juice with Eren, but got distracted with Ethan. You lean over, whispering into his ear again.

“I feel horrible. You’re being so nice to me and Porco right now and I hope you’re not thinking about what he said. It was really nothing and you’ve always been good to me.”

“Y/N. I said after we went home. We’ll talk, yeah?”

“I know. I just hate thinking that you feel like a bad person or friend or something, I just-”

“Y/N. I promise you don’t have to worry about me. And I think I know what it is.”

“You do?”

“I ended things with Hitch. If you can even call it that, because it wasn’t even a thing. But whatever it is, it’s over. If that’s what it was.”

Wait. He can’t be serious can he?

“Wait, but. What happened, I-”

“We’ll talk after. But you should know. You’re the only person I care about, like that anyways. If you couldn’t tell from all this, I do. Care about you. A lot.”

“Like what?”

Before he can answer, Carla comes over, wrapping her arms around the both of you as she squeals into your ears.

“The two of you are just so sweet. I’m so glad that the two of you are together. I can just tell by the way you act, you’re made for each other. Always glancing at each other across the room, whispering in each other’s ears.”

“Ma. Quit it. You’re going to scare her away.”

She yanks on Eren’s ear one time before wrapping her arms around the two of you, squeezing you both tightly before walking away.

“She’s relentless.”

“She asked me if you gave me a good morning kiss earlier. I said no and I swear her blood ran cold.”

“You set me up. But eat fast, okay? I’ll take you and Porco over after.”

You nod, giving him one last shoulder nudge before sitting at the table. Eren cares about you. Like that. Whatever ‘that’ means.

You want to ask. Ask him now if he feels how you do, if I love you is permanently stuck on the tip of his tongue like it is on yours. But you can’t. You’ll save it, for when you guys go home to talk.

“I can’t believe your mom is letting us sleep in the same bed.”

“Do you really think I’d have sex with you with my mom down the hall?”

You kick his knee under the blankets, rolling your eyes as you both stare up at the ceiling. The two of you had spent all of yesterday, after breakfast, with Ethan. He’d taken you around his favorite spots where he was growing up, while you both waited to hear about how Pieck’s surgery went.

Early this morning, while the two of you were eating breakfast, Porco had called and said that she would be discharged by the end of the day. You were so happy you were literally sobbing - Eren and Carla wrapping their arms around you.

“I’m sorry. I just-I’m really happy she’s okay.”

“Oh, sweetheart. We know she means so much to you, Eren told us.”

The two of them reach forward, wiping the tears off your cheeks as they squeeze your hands. You’ll never get sick of them doing that. Either of them.

“When did you and Pieck meet, Y/N?”

“Right. We were neighbors when we were younger. Porco and Pieck were really my only friends. I always call them my fiercest protectors - they’ve been by my side since I was little.”

She reaches over, cupping the side of your cheek in her hand.

“That’s sweet. But just know, we’re always on your side too. Eren especially, yeah? You’ve spent a long time leaning on them, but Eren’s here to catch you now, okay?”

You look over at Eren, who’s watching the two of you so softly. You nod at him, agreeing to let him. Catch you. He realizes it then - when he sees you, all teary eyed in his childhood home.

He had thought of it briefly, after the party where he pushed Marlowe in the pool. Does he love you? But he’s looking at you now and he’s positive that he does.

The words are on the tip of his tongue. He loves you. Because now that he’s realized it - he wants to tell you. Tell you that he fucking adores you, that he loves how soft you are with Ethan, your bedhead in the morning, the smile lines by your eyes.

He loves you. Deeply. Overwhelmingly. Definitively.

“Ew, Eren. I’m just saying - that’s a lot of trust in you to let you sleep in a bed with your supposed girlfriend.”

“I don’t know. She believes in love and all that. She got married to my dad only a few months after meeting him, because she just knew. I’m sure she’s assuming it’s the same thing with us.”

“Did she do that with all your girlfriends?”

“No. I think she knew Historia was a lesbian before I did.”

“Right. You never really told me about all that.”

He turns over to his side, facing you. You can barely see him, the lights shut off leaving the two of you in pitch darkness. He reaches over, squeezing your hand under the blanket.

“You always do that, Ren. Squeeze my hands.”

He immediately pulls his hand back, letting go of yours.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” you whisper.

He puts his hand back on yours, locking your fingers together.

“I dated her back in high school. She was still in the closet at the time and I didn’t really have any idea. I just kind of liked her a lot.”

“Did it make you sad when she told you she didn’t like you?”

“No. I was more upset because she didn’t tell me herself. Or that she thought she couldn’t tell me anything. Like yeah, I was her boyfriend but I also thought that we were like best friends. I would never be mad at her if she told me she liked girls.”

You squeeze his hand twice, watching the muscles in his forehead tense. You love him, you love him, you love him. He’s so sweet and you love him.

“Who told you?��

“Jean. Or he was supposed to, I mean. She had asked Jean to tell me that she was too embarrassed to face me because she didn’t like me anymore. Because she liked girls. Jean left the last part out on accident, so I thought she like…cheated on me or something. We got into a huge argument about it, all of us.”

“Is that when you…punched Jean?”

“Yeah. It just pissed me off to think that I misunderstood just because he told me wrong. He’s always in his own head - kind of talks before thinking about what’s being said, assuming other people understand. It’s just fucking frustrating when people get hurt because he’s not being careful.”

You reach over, wrapping your arms around his chest as you nestle your head into the crook of his neck. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. You’re too good to him and he loves you.

“Sorry that happened to you, Ren.”

“S’okay. Jean’s better about it now and we laugh about it.”

“I’m glad.”

“Take that as a lesson. You better not keep secrets from me. I’ll get real mad if you do.”

“Okay, okay, I promise.”

You lean over and press a kiss to his cheek before nestling back into his arms to sleep. He doesn’t ask why you did it. You don’t tell him.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

And he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

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mediocrecherry · 11 months

Text

meeting the parents

roommate eren x f!reader

**find mini-series masterlist here

an: ty for all the love on roommate eren!!!! this part was super super rushed and not AS proofread lol but I just wanted to put the idea out there to set it up for some other stuff :DDDD

“Is there something I’m supposed to wear to your soccer game? I’ve never been to one before.”

You feel Eren get up from his bed, which you were currently sprawled on. You’d spent more time in his room as of late, his bed being more comfortable to watch movies on than the couch. The night you had slept in his bed felt like it breached any sense of normal boundaries between the two of you, this was the new normal. I guess touching each others scars can do that to someone.

In the middle of the movie he had picked out for today, which was a stupid nature documentary that was putting you to sleep, he had invited you to come to his first home game, which was on Friday.

He was trying to convince you - telling you Annie would be there, that there are snacks, and Jean and Armin will be too since they were part of the game. You’re positive he doesn’t understand the pull he has on you, because you’d agree to anything the second he asked.

After you agree, you can’t help but feel your heart twinge at the smile spreading across your face and you fight the urge to poke his dimples. You love his dimples. His smile lines. The softness near his eyes. You shake your head, directing your gaze back to the forest on the screen as you avoid the fluttering in your chest.

After your question about the clothes, he nearly jumped up, rummaging through his closet to find something for you to wear. After a few minutes, he throws the shirt at you, which lands square in your face, knocking you over. You pull the shirt off your face, sticking your tongue out at him as he joins you back on the bed.

You keep a respectable distance when you sit together on his bed, obviously. You can’t even look at him without exploding. And whenever he touches you, all you can think about is his soft, nimble fingers running across your skin in the night, touching all the parts of you that were hurt.

But every once in a while, Eren will brush his hand against yours while reaching for his phone, fix your hair behind your ears because you ‘look like a garden troll’, and claim you have a stray eyelash on your face just to press his fingers against your cheek.

You think it’s an excuse to touch you, that it can’t all be a mistake, but you’re also well aware that Eren can make you a little delusional. You ignore the validity of the situation all together. The less you think about his fingers on your skin, the better.

You hold the shirt up, inspecting it. Your throat drying when you realize what it is. His jersey.

“Eren. I can’t wear this.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to wear it while you’re playing?”

“I have another one. Plus, all the girls wear jerseys to the games. Annie’s wearing Armin’s honorary jersey.”

Annie’s not a normal girl, she’s Armin’s girlfriend. All the girlfriends wear jerseys to the game. You turn to face him, an uneasy expression pressed on your face. He rolls his eyes, his hand making its way to the top of your head. He sticks his fingers into your scalp, applying soft pressure.

“Why are you thinking so hard? It’s just a shirt. I can find you another one if it bothers you that much.”

He’s right. It’s just a shirt. To him anyways. It might mean something else for Annie and Armin and every other girl but for you guys, it’s just a shirt.

You shake your head, agreeing to wear it to the game on Friday.

The game rolls around and you’re currently seated in the stands alone. You have superstitions to thank for that.

Armin doesn’t play in the game, but helps the coaching team strategize where to put the best players. Hence, the honorary jersey Eren mentioned earlier. Armin’s been around the sport since he was a kid and knows all the players’ strengths well enough to help assist in making plays. It makes a lot of sense when you think about it - Armin’s never the one at the center of the play, but definitely the mastermind behind it.

However, Armin claims that they can’t win unless he’s wearing a very specific pair of blue shoe laces. Eren explained that superstitions mean everything to the team, even to him. Apparently, he refuses to play if he isn’t wearing his key necklace. Because, he’ll lose without it. Armin’s the same with the shoelaces.

Annie was currently tearing apart Armin’s apartment, trying to find the shoelaces before they could start the game in a few minutes. Which left you alone in the stands reading the book you brought to kill the time. You’re not much of a soccer or sports fan - so you had contingency plans in place. You’re just here to support your friends and because Eren asked you to come.

You feel a hand on your shoulder, pulling out your earphones to acknowledge the nudging. You find a tall, blonde man standing over you, gesturing if he could sit next to you. He has two other people with him, a man and a woman with dark black hair, who have to be one of the player’s parents. You give them a smile, nodding your head that they could take the seats next to you.

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

“Yeah, I have to read it for an assignment.”

At the sound of his voice, you take a moment to really seep into the man’s features. He’s got blonde hair, thin circular framed glasses, and a full sported beard. If you had to guess, you would say he’s somewhere in his late twenties, just based on his looks and demeanor. You have a feeling you’ve seen him somewhere before, but you can’t really pinpoint where from.

“This is an interesting place to complete an assignment. What brings you here?”

You shut the book closed, squinting your eyes around on the field till you find Eren running up and down the track. The game starts in a few minutes and he’s warming up before he takes his spot at the goalie stand.

“That guy. He’s my roommate. I came to see him play.”

The man nods, craning his neck to find who it was you were pointing at. You sit in silence, not interacting with the man or the other two people till the middle of the game. Annie still hadn’t returned, but they were surprisingly winning the game. It was neck to neck the entire time, Eren’s team barely scoring over them each time the whistle went off.

You feel the fingers tap into your shoulder again, the blonde man staring at you.

“I’m going to go get water from my stands for my parents. Did you want anything?”

You can’t ignore the growling in your stomach and the dryness in your throat - you had been screaming for a better half of the last hour. You never knew sports could make you so passionate. You dig for your wallet in your pocket, pulling out way too much cash for a simple bottle of water. You reach for his hand, squeezing it twice before speaking.

“Thank you so much, really. It’s very kind of you to ask me. If you could get me a snack, that would be great. Here’s the money for it, you can use it for your parents’ water bottles too.”

You place the bills in his hands, turning your neck back to find Eren running on the field. You feel bad, but the only thing you can focus on is him. He’s so coordinated, like a figure skater on the field. Watching him lace the ball through his feet to avoid other players taking it from him felt somewhat hypnotic - but you think that’s more about how Eren looks and is, rather than how he’s playing.

As the blonde man turns to leave, the woman slides into his seat, leaning over to talk to you. She has golden brown eyes, which are warmly peering into yours.

“You’re really into the game. You’ve been following it really closely.”

“I never thought I’d enjoy it so much. This is actually my first time coming to a game.”

“What made you decide to come today?”

“Eren Yeager. He’s number eleven, running on the right side of the field. He’s a really good friend of mine and he asked me to come. He cares a lot about the game and I care a lot about him, so I just had to come when he asked me.”

She presses her hand over yours, squeezing tight. You can see her eyes glimmering at your words, though you’re not entirely sure why. You can’t place it but she seems familiar too. You’re having a weird sense of deja vu from the game all together.

“You’re a sweet girl, really.”

You smile back, your heart tingling at her words. You’re distracted by everyone cheering at the field, craning your neck back to find Eren. You watch him sink the ball into the net, jumping to your feet at the sight of him stopping, a smile shining on his face as he watches the scoreboard turn in his favor.

You swear you imagine the next part, but the looks everyone around you give you tells you it was real. He turns to the field, squinting till he finds you settled in the bleachers. He points to the net, signaling at the score he just made, and then points at you, a smile pressed against his face. You’re not sure what it means entirely, but what you are sure of is that his stupid smile was going to make your heart explode one day.

Eren wins the game. Obviously. You watch his teammates lift him into the air, shuffling him to the end of the bleachers. You run down the steps, your cheeks sore from smiling so hard. You watch the players let him go and he meets your eyes, slowly walking over to meet you.

You basically run at him, tangling your arms around his neck. He lifts you up, spinning you around for a few seconds before setting you down. You can feel his arms shaking, which you’re sure is the adrenaline from the rush of the game.

“Ren. That was so fucking cool. You’re so cool.”

“Yeah?”

You can see the corners of his lips quirking up at his words, a warm look in his green eyes.

“You’re amazing. You move so fast, I could barely keep my eyes off of you.”

“You can’t do that anyways.”

You smack his shoulder with the side of your arm, rolling your eyes at him. He’s not wrong.

Before you can bite back, he looks past your shoulder, waving at someone behind you. You turn your neck to find the three people you were sitting with from before walking up, swinging their arms around Eren.

You watch the man with blonde hair put his hand in Eren’s hair and affectionately shake his entire head, while the man and the woman envelop him in a hug. You’re thoroughly confused.

“You know them?”

“Do you know them, peaches?”

“Peaches?” you hear the black haired man say, turning his eyes towards his wife and son.

“Yeah, we were sitting together during the game.”

He turns his neck, narrowing his eyes at the three of them.

“How did you guys know it was her?”

“She has Yeager printed on the back of her shirt in huge letters. It wasn’t that hard to figure out she was the girl we were looking for.”

The three of them turn to you, all of them smiling brightly. Eren pulls you closer, swinging his arm around your shoulder as he turns to face you.

“Y/N. These are my parents, Grisha and Carla, and my brother Zeke. They really wanted to meet you and I was going to introduce you to them after the game but they had other plans.”

You can feel the gears settling into place in your head, the deja vu feeling making sense. The picture Eren showed you when you were sick, when you became friends - it was of them. His family. You just didn’t recognize them right away because they were way younger than they are now.

You press your hands to all of theirs, the dread filling your chest. They knew it was you the entire time and you had no idea. Is that rude? Are they going to tell Eren you said that you cared about him?

“I’m really sorry I didn’t recognize you. Eren showed me a picture and I thought I knew you guys from somewhere, but the picture he had shown you was so old.”

“He showed you a picture of us? He basically refused to show us any of you, he’s so secretive.” Carla responds, the shock pressed on her face.

“Just threaten him. He’ll give in eventually.”

The three of them laugh, your heart tingling at the sight of their laughter and smiles. Okay, okay. Not too bad. They don’t hate you, that’s for sure.

“I have a feeling he only does that for you.”

You quirk your eyes at his dad, Grisha he said, and shake your head, dismissing the comment. He’d do it for anyone. You just know how to do it. You hear Annie and Armin calling you from the other side of the field, something about taking a picture of them.

You shake all of their hands another time, giving them your brightest smile before letting your legs drag you to where Annie and Armin were standing.

“No grandchildren till after graduation.”

“Mom.”

“I get it. She’s really cute, she’s sweet, it’s probably easy when you sleep in a bed together every night. But no grandchildren.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. And she doesn’t sleep in my bed.”

Eren feels Zeke smack the back of his head, turning back to glare at him.

“You get stupider as time goes on. That poor girl likes you so much.”

Eren shakes his head, looking over at you from across the field. You’re crouched on the ground, taking a picture of Annie and Armin who have their arms tangled around each other. Of course, you’re crouching on the ground to get the best angle.

Annie’s pressing a kiss to his cheek and he ignores the fact that all he can think about is you doing that to him.

“No, she doesn’t.”

“She told us she cared about you. A lot. And mind you, she thought we were strangers. She wasn’t trying to impress us as your family or your loved ones, she literally was just telling us, like she’d tell any other stranger who talked to her. She likes you.”

Eren feels his dad come behind him, pressing dollar bills into his open palm.

“It’s her money. Make sure you return it.”

“She offered to pay, didn’t she?”

They all nod, confirming his suspicions as he glances back over to you. Kindness was like breathing to you and he envied, admired, and loved it about you all at once. You were so…you sometimes, it hurt him.

Eren gives Zeke one more shove for good measure, before stalking over to the field where you’re standing. He reaches over, pressing his fingers into the side of your shoulder. You turn over, your stupid doe eyes staring into his again.

“Need something, Ren?”

“I want a picture with you. Ask Annie and Armin to take it.”

He doesn’t miss how your face lights up at the request and he curses your sweet little heart for making him like you more.

Sometimes he feels like he can’t help it, like you could breathe and he’d love you for it. The way your nose crinkles, your chest rising and falling as it fills with air, he could love anything, even a stupid physiological act, if it was you.

You hand Annie the camera, reaching over to press yourself against him. He reaches forward, squishing your face in his hand as Annie takes the picture. You run over, snatching the phone from Annie’s hand to swipe through the pictures. You accidentally land on the picture of Annie and Armin first, Annie pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Oh my god, I thought that was us for a second Ren. Imagine.”

But he doesn’t have to. There’s already a picture of you two like that - you pressing a kiss to his cheek - from a while back. You just don’t remember it.

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