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theragethatisdesire · 10 months

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much ado about nothing chapter 3 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

finally!!!!!!!!!! finally all the tension has led to something.....well, some of the tension, anyway. you and eren are both idiots in denial, but you're horny idiots in denial, which makes all the difference. hope y'all have your a/c on, bc it's about to get hot in here.

corny jokes aside, pls enjoy chapter 3 of plug!eren and get ready to get steamy (finally!!!! sorry for holding out on you<3333)

miss the first couple chapters? find the series masterlist HERE

specific cws: smut, nasty nasty smut. mentions of drugs/alcohol. use of pet names, squirting, oral (fem!receiving), eren being a cute little shit

“That’s a fair thought to lie between maids’ legs.” - Hamlet by William Shakespeare (Act III, Scene 2)

You make your way through your weekly routine, but Eren follows you everywhere you go. You see him in the dark-haired man two rows over in the library, the smell of weed walking down fraternity row, in the kissing couple sitting on the campus’ main water fountain. It doesn’t help that Historia won’t shut up about him, scolding you day and night for not bringing him to your bed that night.

Part of you agrees with her, but another, more sinister part of you relishes in the denial of it all, the hot anticipation that courses through you each time he sends you a cheeky text about nothing. You promised yourself one fuck, one good, long fuck, and you were leaving him in the dust, and you weren’t going to rush to get it out of your way.

You’re busy anyway, heading over to The 104th Bean, the campus coffee spot, on quick feet to make it in time to the study group you were hosting for a few of your students. You didn’t think the sonnets you’d assigned for this week were too complex, but a good chunk of them were struggling with the meter of the lines. It was the least you could do to offer them an opportunity for one-on-one help, and in lieu of an office, 104 was the best spot to get it done.

“Hi guys,” you breeze in, breathless and slamming a stack of papers down on the table your students have gathered at, “sorry I’m a little late.”

“We just got here,” Falco, a precious, blonde wisp of a kid smiles brightly up at you, “and we went ahead and got you a coffee. It’s still hot.”

“Aw, thank you guys,” you gratefully accept the paper cup he offers you. It’s your favorite brew, and you raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Which one of you figured out my coffee order?”

“All of us,” Gabi shrugs, “you bring the same thing to class literally every day.”

“We have a whole thing about it in the group text,” Zofia wiggles her phone at you.

“I might need to offer some extra credit.” You take a sip, closing your eyes at the blissful feeling of caffeine rushing into your half-conscious brain. You jump straight into the material, deciding to tackle the sonnets one by one, line by line until they’ve all made perfect sense to your little group of college kids. They’re all smart, evidenced by the way they question their way to the answer before you can give it, and in their defense, some of the sonnets you pulled have been from your graduate classes. You spend the next hour working through everything with them, a welcome reprieve from sitting alone in front of your laptop, tugging at your hair.

“I…um, need to go to the restroom,” Gabi checks her phone and stands suddenly, looking frantic. You frown, but wave her off in the direction of the bathroom, making a mental note to send Zofia after her if she didn’t return soon.

After a few minutes have passed, Gabi sits back at the table, looking much calmer than when she’d left. You don’t make any note of it, until a tall figure catches your attention out of the corner of your eye. You’re positive that it’s your mind playing tricks on you like it has been all week, until you hear a familiar timbre calling your name.

Eren’s sullen mouth widens into that heartstopping, crooked grin as he walks over to wrap his arms around you in a hug that makes your knees weak. “What are you doing here?”

“Study group,” you gesture at your students, noticing that Gabi’s blushing heavily and pointedly avoiding eye contact with both of you. Ah. “Working?”

Eren glances at Gabi and looks at his shoes. “Nah, just needed a coffee.”

“Uh-huh,” you roll your eyes. He’s not even holding a cup, and you’re not buying his story for a second. As her professor, you should scold Gabi for buying drugs which are definitely banned on campus, but considering that you’re plotting to get into her dealer’s pants, you figure that might be a tad hypocritical.

“You didn’t text me back last night,” Eren pokes a finger into your ribs playfully. You’re well-aware of your students’ eyes boring into your back, watching intently as their professor’s personal life spills into their study session. Great material for the group text.

“I knocked out! You know I’m busy.”

“Too busy to reply to my memes about Jujutsu Kaisen?” Eren cocks an eyebrow.

“Apparently so. I woke up with my phone still unlocked and stuck to my face.” That draws a laugh out of him.

“Okay fine,” Eren concedes, “but if you’re not going to pay attention to my very funny memes over text, then you’ll have to check them out in person.”

“Eren,” you hiss, flicking your head in the direction of your suspiciously-silent students, “Would it kill you to behave?” Eren scoffs.

“They’re not listening. What about tonight? We can watch a movie or something.”

Watch a movie. You want to inform him that each one of those students is very much listening to him shamelessly flirt with you, students that absolutely know what “watch a movie” is code for. Especially Gabi, who knows exactly what Eren’s occupation is from experience and will likely be all too thrilled to inform her classmates that you’re banging her hot drug dealer. Simply getting Eren to leave is probably your best bet at retaining any shred of respect your students hold for you.

You can’t resist teasing him a little first. “Is that what an old man does on a Friday night? Watch movies?”

“Mikasa’s covering some clients for me,” Eren admits, “if you come over, that is.”

“I think I’m free tonight,” you scan through your lengthy list of obligations in your head, trying to ignore the way your heart flutters as you realize he’s already gone out of his way to cover work and give you both your alone time, “as long as you don’t mind if I bring some quizzes over with me. I still have my 9:00 am’s to grade.”

“Can I help?” Eren’s eyes light up, childlike and excited.

“You don’t even know the answers.”

“Straight As for everyone,” Eren smiles, changing his tune when you shoot him a look, “straight Fs, then?”

“It won’t take me long, twenty minutes tops, and then you can pester me with all the memes you want. Deal?”

“You got it, teach.” Eren’s tone is suggestive enough to make your face warm, and you shoo him away from the table of young adults that you literally must remain respectable in the eyes of. Eren bids you goodbye with a wink that goes straight to the warmth pooling between your legs. You allow yourself one deep breath to regain your composure, turning back to your students with a wide, nervous smile.

“Sorry about that, guys.”

“Is that your boyfriend?” Zofia flinches when Gabi kicks her under the table with a loud bang.

You hesitate. No, just the hot guy I have no business getting wrapped up with that I’m going to let fuck me stupid later. “Just a friend.”

“He seemed pretty into you to be just a friend,” Falco teases.

“Do you want to fail your next three tests?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he balks, turning back to his notebook with a mumbled apology. You don’t miss the way Gabi’s looking at you, something between embarrassment and curiosity on her face. You can’t blame her; you’re not far enough in age from your students to be completely out of touch, and if you found out one of your professors had been sleeping with someone as deliciously dangerous as Eren, you would have been all over spreading that rumor.

Friends with someone like Eren, you correct yourself in your mind, remembering that you haven’t slept together, not quite yet. Tonight’s apparently the night, though, and your chest is tight with anticipation. It’s all you can do to pull yourself together and make it through the day, breaking out in a cold sweat when Eren shoots you a reminder text to head to his place around 7:00.

“Oh you’re getting laid. You’re so getting laid!” Historia squeals excitedly through your phone speaker. “I never thought this day would come!”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you say, letting the sarcasm drip freely from your voice. Your nervous hands had started shaking in your pockets as you rode down the elevator shaft to embark on the twelve-minute walk to Eren’s, so you had Facetimed Historia for a distraction. All you had gotten in return so far, however, was a whole bunch of shrieking.

“You just second guess yourself too much,” Historia says, shaking the camera, “let loose, live a little like we used to.”

“Living like we used to is what had me crying in the shower over a frat boy every two weeks, remember?”

“Eren’s not like that,” Historia dismisses you, “and honestly, he seems into you.”

“He invited me over to come fuck in broad daylight, so yeah, Stor, I’d say he’s fairly into me.”

“Not like that, like actually into you. I’ve never seen him get all touchy with anyone like he did the other night. Plus, he drove you home, which was super sweet.”

Oh, calling Historia was a mistake. Big mistake. That’s the last thought you need in your mind on your way to your one-and-done, already being a repeat offender for catching feelings from basically nothing. Eren’s too volatile to play with, too charming, and if you’re not careful, you’ll fall right into a trap he probably doesn’t even know he’s setting for you.

“I don’t know,” Ymir chimes in from somewhere off-camera, “guys will do a whole bunch of shit to get laid. Probably doesn't mean anything.”

“You’re literally a lesbian, Ymir, shut up,” Historia snips. You raise an eyebrow.

“Do the words ‘pot’ and ‘kettle’ have any meaning to you?”

Historia rolls her eyes. “Ymir’s like, allergic to penises, don’t listen to her. I, on the other hand, have a million guy friends and, with no emotional or sexual interference in my male-female relationships, I have learned to read them like books. Deny it all you want, but he’s totally got a little crush on you.”

“This is the last thing I need to hear,” you groan, “he’s too pretty for me to think he has a crush on me. We’re fucking just this one time, and then I’m done with him.”

“Sure,” Historia smirks knowingly, “I’m sure Sasha’s roommate said that too.”

“And they never dated either, so that’s on her for breaking her own rule.” You’re pushing back a little too hard to be described as anything but defensive, you know it, but a small, wavering flicker of hope in your chest wants Historia to keep going, wants her to be right. Because Eren’s dreamy, makes you want to kick your feet and twirl your hair like a schoolgirl, and if anything actually came of this, you wouldn’t be the one to say no.

However, you’re heading over for a meaningless, one-time fuck, so feelings need to be pushed to the back of your mind.

“You’re never any fun,” Historia pouts.

“Two days ago I drank an entire bottle of wine with you for zero reason other than the fact that you wanted to get drunk and cry to Taylor Swift. That’s plenty of fun.”

“She does that to you, too?” Ymir commiserates, still off-camera.

“Okay, it’s Eren-talk time, not shit-on-Historia time,” Historia huffs, blowing a strand of blonde out of her eyes. A notification pops up on your phone: destination in 200ft.

“Oh my god, I’m almost there,” you practically moan, covering your face with your hand, “what if he does have a massive dick and it like, impales my uterus or something?”

“No dick talk!” Ymir snaps. Historia shushes her.

“Relax, for every rumor about a guy’s dick, you have to knock, like, two inches off what you hear. Trust me.”

“What if I choke on it and throw up on him?”

“I’ve seen you deepthroat an entire banana without batting an eye,” Historia pulls a knowing face.

“What if this whole thing is a prank and Ashton Kutcher pops out and they’ve somehow started up a Punk’d remake that I don’t know about–”

“Then you get a selfie with Ashton Kutcher and call it a day,” Historia laughs, “you’re working yourself up way too much. Remember when you used to be a slut and do this, like, five times a week?”

“Jesus,” you hear Ymir mutter.

“Thanks, Stor. Thanks so much.”

“No, but seriously. Eren might be hot and funny or whatever else you like about him, but he’s just a guy. You are also hot and funny and totally a catch, you’ve got the upper hand here!”

“Ugh,” you stop a few feet from Eren’s drive, knowing you would fully die if he overheard you gossiping about him on the phone. “I’m here. Let me just get this over with, and I’ll see you at home later.”

“Yeah, when Eren answers the door, try to sound a little more excited that you’re going to get laid and less like you’re going to your execution,” Historia traces a smile onto her cheeks with a pink fingernail, “good luck!”

“Use a condom!” Ymir pipes up just as the call ends.

You look over at Eren’s house, cute and squat with its little red door, and trudge up the sidewalk before you can lose your nerve. You wince at the tremors shaking your fist as you knock, wanting to run away or throw up or disappear–

“Hey,” Eren answers the door with a broad grin. You eye his gray sweatpants, essentially straight woman kryptonite, and gulp. He knows too much.

“Hey,” you force a smile, letting him beckon you inside. It smells…very nice. Not as boyish as it should. You take note of the candle burning on the coffee table with a little smile.

“Want anything to snack on? I have popcorn, stuff for quesadillas, cosmic brownies…” Eren’s eyes twinkle at the last suggestion. You’re not surprised; he seems like the type to have an insatiable sweet tooth.

“I ate before I came over, but thanks anyway,” you say, fiddling with the zipper on your jacket. Eren takes note of your twitchy hands, raises an eyebrow at you.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you say automatically, embarrassed that he’s caught you flustered. He’s just a guy. “It’s…okay, it’s honestly just been awhile.”

You expect him to laugh or tease you, but Eren just smiles that stupid fucking canine-heavy, disarming smile. “We’re just chilling, okay? No sweat.”

“No sweat,” you repeat, admittedly feeling a little better now that you’ve gotten it out. Eren’s new to you, still unfamiliar and full of surprises, but for some odd reason, you trust him. There’s something comfortable and steady in his casual confidence that eases your nerves and ignites a pounding in your heart all at once.

“So, I was thinking Texas Chainsaw,” Eren goes on like you hadn’t just shared a little moment in the hallway, flopping onto the couch, “but if you’re not into horror, I’d be down for Pineapple Express.”

The irony’s so blatant it’s almost not funny.

“So, the drug dealer wants to watch Pineapple Express?” You plop down beside him, relieved that he’s drawn you to the living room as opposed to his bedroom. Sure, you feel better, but you know one look at Eren’s bed would ignite a fresh wave of nerves. Eren rolls his eyes as you poke fun at him.

“It’s a classic!”

“For seventeen-year-old stoners, definitely. What about Grease? That’s a classic.”

Eren lolls his head on your shoulder, pretending to snore. You smack his face lightly, still giggling under your breath, and he fakes jumping awake, shaking his head. “Sorry, I dozed off. Boring.”

“Okay, fine, let’s just do your horror movie,” you sigh, knowing that if everything goes according to plan, you won’t be stuck watching the movie for long. “I’ve never seen that one, and isn’t it sort of a pillar of the scary movie realm?”

Eren pauses his thumb on the remote to gape at you. “You’ve never seen Chainsaw Massacre? Like, ever?”

“Nope.”

“Holy shit. Prepare yourself to be educated,” Eren mumbles disbelievingly under his breath, finding the movie quickly and standing to turn the lamps in the room off, leaving nothing but the cozy glow of string lights and the TV. “Ready?”

You snuggle into his side, letting him pull you close enough to feel his chest rise and fall under your face. “Ready.”

The movie doesn’t hold your attention, too caught up in Eren’s embrace to pay much attention to the plot. He’s got one arm around your shoulders, hand dangling down far enough that you can reach your hand up to play with his large fingers. It’s comfortable, probably a little too comfortable for a quick fuck, but you’re content, trying your best to focus on the film until he makes his move.

“M’bored,” Eren says abruptly, after not even thirty minutes.

“You picked this movie,” you argue, peering up to look at him. He’s feigning a pout, but there’s something mischievous glittering in his eyes.

“Yeah because I thought you’d scream,” he says, shrugging, “but for someone who didn’t want to watch a scary movie, you don’t seem very scared.”

“I’m not screaming because it’s predictable.”

“You’ve never even seen it, you should be screaming.”

“You need a horror movie to make me scream?” You’re tired of the games, confidence restored as you remember just how badly you want what you came here for. Historia was right, he’s just a guy, and you’re ready to get laid. Eren blinks for a brief second, caught off guard, but a slow, wolfish grin slowly begins to spread over his face.

“Is that what we’re doing now? Talking shit?”

You’ve dug your grave now, blood running hot with anticipation. Might as well get comfortable. “Maybe.”

Eren shifts, pulls you into his lap to straddle him chest to chest. Through your leggings, you can feel the outline of him, intimidating and hard, rubbing against your core. It draws a little gasp from you; no running from him now. “Yeah? Where’d that mean mouth go?”

You lean in, already eager to feel his lips on yours, but Eren reclines further, making you chase him.

“Cat got your tongue?” Eren chides, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Thought you wanted to be mean to me.”

“That’s not what I want.” Your voice already sounds gone, breathy and heavy in your mouth.

“What do you want then?”

“Wanna kiss you,” you admit, hating how strung out you already are, hot between your thighs and shaky in the hands. Eren smiles at you, so sweet and easy on the surface, but you can see the danger lurking behind it. He’s going to eat you alive.

Eren leans forward, leaving a chaste peck on your lips. You make a discontented sound as he pulls away. “What’s that for? Gave you what you wanted.”

“Not like that,” you play with the strings of his hoodie, not even able to look him in the eye, lest he see the unadulterated want pulsing through you, “like…”

“The other night?” Eren finishes for you, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “Been thinking about it?”

“Mhm.” He puts his hands on your hips, and you hum at the heat of his hands through your clothes. Unexpectedly, Eren pushes you down, grinds you against the erection growing in those damned sweatpants, ripping a humiliating, choked sound out of your throat. You aren’t sure what you’d expected of him, but you definitely hadn’t anticipated this level of boldness.

“Been touching yourself? Thinking about me?” Eren asks, low and expectant. You nod, hating yourself for admitting to your late night transgressions, giving into him so easily. “Good. ‘ve been doing the same thing.”

Eren swallows the little moan that spills out of your mouth, crashing into you, all teeth and tongue. He’s sloppy, far more demanding than he had been the first time around, licking into your mouth and fisting a hand into your hair. His other hand’s still hard at work, moving your hips against him, letting out little grunts when you grind down particularly hard.

“Not here, need to,” Eren pants into your mouth, trying to speak around your tongue slipping between his lips, “need to take you to my room. Is that okay? Need you to tell me now if it’s not.”

Your heart melts; you want to kick yourself for ever calling him ‘scummy’. Even in the midst of your heated moment, Eren’s eyes are blown wide, scanning over your face for any sign of hesitation.

“Please,” you purr against him, peppering his jawline with kisses and rubbing yourself on him wantonly. Eren groans deep in his chest, a sound that makes your cunt throb between your legs. That convinces him; he scoops you up, legs around his waist like you weigh nothing– god, it always strikes you just how strong he is– stumbling through the house and letting you plant sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down his throat.

You bounce on his bed when he tosses you, not even taking your eyes off of him for a moment to do a quick inventory of the room. You decide you’ll take the time to investigate afterwards, greedy for any details that might unravel the mechanisms behind the man in front of you. Eren’s practically ripping his hoodie off where he towers over you, revealing an expanse of hard muscle nestled under olive skin, random little tattoos etched into his physique here and there. You want to trace those tattoos with your tongue, feel how the skin gives under your teeth. Your jaw drops an inch or two; you reach a hand up to ghost your fingertips under the ripples of his ridiculous six-pack.

“You’re a drug dealer. What do you even need muscles like that for?”

Eren snickers, letting you have your fun for only a moment before he’s reaching down to tug your top over your head.

“I have a lot of down time, I guess. You’re one to talk anyway,” he sucks in a breath, crawling over you and forcing you back on your elbows, “I mean, just look at you.”

You bring your hands up to your face to hide where your cheeks are growing warm under his lecherous gaze, but Eren’s having none of it, pulling them above your head and securing them by the wrists.

“Ah ah ah,” he tuts, mouthing his way down your neck, “why so shy all of the sudden? Don’t hide from me now.”

“S-sorry,” you stutter, back unwittingly arching, shoving your chest closer to his eager mouth. Eren releases you to unclip your bra, slide it over your shoulders. His eyes darken even further, bright green deepening into the shade of a dark, forest floor.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” Eren mumbles, leaning down to drag his tongue over the tops of your breasts. It’s lewd, sloppy, the way he licks at you like you’re something sweet, something to be eaten, but you like it, fisting your hands in his dark hair and clutching him to your chest. Eren’s large hands palm at your tits; he takes one nipple in his mouth and you sigh contentedly as he sucks, nips at you in all the right places. “You've got the most beautiful body, baby. Feel good?”

“Yeah, feels good,” you whisper, cradling him so close you might be suffocating him, but you don’t care. There’s something akin to a Greek god licking at your tits, looking up at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, can you really help yourself?

Eren kisses down your stomach, tugging your leggings and panties down easily, propping your legs open for him. You frown, popping up on your elbows, more than ready to just get him inside of you as fast as you can at this point. What stops you is the extremely sexy noise he lets out at the sight of you, bordering on a growl.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he absentmindedly circles your clit with his thumb, dips it into your hole a few times, testing the waters.

“Eren, no– want you in me,” you pull at his shoulder pointedly, but Eren just chuckles, breath fanning over your sensitive cunt, making you jolt.

“Gotta get you ready for me, yeah?” Eren tilts his head innocently, rubbing a little faster against your clit. Your words die in your throat, nothing but a broken whimper slipping out in place of your protests. “See? Just want to taste you, know you’ll be so sweet.”

“Fine, knock yourself out,” you say, trying to appear at least slightly less wrecked than you are. Eren looks up at you, amused.

“Gonna fuck that attitude right out of you if you’re not careful.” Jesus, the mouth on him. You bite your lip, too afraid of what might come out if you dare to respond. You believe him.

Eren’s leaning in, licking through your folds lazily, no clear plan in mind, just getting a taste for you like he said he would. Somehow, even with his warning, it still catches you off guard, the hot lathing of his tongue into your center.

“Shit,” Eren groans into you, “you taste so fucking good.”

His words go straight to your pussy, and you twist your fingers in his hair shamelessly, pulling insistently. You need far more than what he’s giving. You need what you know he’s capable of.

“Where’s all that shit talking now?” Eren chuckles under his breath, the vibrations sending a fresh wave of heat through your body.

“C’mon Eren, quit fucking with me,” you pant, making the mistake of looking down. Whatever you were about to say gets lodged in your chest; Eren’s looking right back up at you, bottom half of his face tucked into your cunt and one eyebrow cocked smugly.

“Need something?”

“Your mouth, your f-fingers, please–” you’re off the deep end, feeling yourself spiral further down into Eren’s little world of hot hands and devilish lips, bottomless need threatening to swallow you whole. You’re not the begging type, but for him? You’re as good as on your knees.

“There you go,” Eren coos, sinking a long finger into your heat, crooking it just right to punch a groan from you, “can have whatever you want, baby, just gotta ask.”

His mouth closes around your clit, sucks hard just as his finger nudges into the perfect spot in your walls, that spot that makes your head spin. You’re crooning above him, muttering something about how good it feels, how you need more, putty in his experienced hands. When he slips another finger into you, picking up his rhythm, you nearly cry, tears welling in your eyes as he works you open.

“That’s– fuck, that’s so good,” you whine, fisting the sheets, his hair, your own chest, anything you can sink your claws into to keep you grounded in the moment, keep you from floating away like you feel like you’re going to. Your hips are canting up into Eren’s mouth of their own accord; you buck so violently that Eren has to throw his free arm over your stomach, locking you in place so that you have no choice but to stay and take what he’s giving you. “Eren, I–”

“Hm?” He hums against your swollen clit; you can even feel his lips stretch into a grin against you.

“Don’t stop, I’m gonna– gonna cum,” you manage, legs already beginning to shake. Every part of you feels like it’s on fire; when Eren presses his arm down a little harder on your lower abdomen, a strange, sticky heat starts building in your stomach. “Eren–”

“Come on, baby,” Eren huffs, sinking a third finger into you, stretching you impossibly wider. You’re wet enough that it doesn’t hurt, but the shock of it is enough to make you cry out. “Don’t fight it, want it so fucking bad. Let go for me.”

That’s enough to hurl you over the edge, obscene sounds spilling from you as you jerk in his hold. You’re vaguely aware of the squirt dribbling out of you, soaking the sheets, but you’re preoccupied with the earth-shattering orgasm rocking through your body, the lewd slurping sounds Eren’s making between your legs, groaning into you as you cum violently on his face. You finally begin to settle, shoving at Eren’s head and whimpering from the overstimulation.

He presses his lips to your hip bone before he comes back to you, pulling you into a filthy kiss, both of your faces drenched in your cum and sticking together. When he pulls back, you nearly cum again at the sight of your slick literally dripping from his chin.

“How was that?”

“Fine,” you pant, “just fine.”

Eren laughs, a real laugh that pulls a giggle out of you too, makes everything just a little less intense. “So you’re good?”

“I’m very good,” you grin up at him, bleary-eyed and blissed out. Eren falls back against the headboard, sitting himself up. You notice two things right off the bat: 1. that his gray sweatpants are gone and 2. that the rumor mill wasn’t lying.

His dick is massive, wide enough that your fingers wouldn’t touch if you wrapped them around it and long enough that you’re pretty sure it would slap against your belly button if you laid it just right. It’s pretty, too; flushed red tip leaking precum down his shaft in a way that makes your mouth water. Your eyes widen, apparently enough for Eren to notice.

“Quit drooling and get over here,” he chuckles, grabbing you under your arms and pulling you to his chest, forcing your legs to spread over his thighs, “wanna see you ride me first.”

“I’m not drooling,” you scowl defensively, trying to regain some of your composure after whimpering and crying for him only a minute ago. He’s just a guy, Historia’s words echo in your mind.

“Go for it, then,” Eren smirks, landing a light smack on your ass that makes you jolt. You steel your gaze against his, determined not to give him the upper hand.

You take him in your hand, slide the head through your wet folds, earn yourself a hiss from him. Shit, even the tip catching on your eager hole has an intimidating stretch to it. He wants you to sit on this thing?

Either Eren’s a mind reader, or your hesitation is written all over your face because he cups your chin, pulling you down to him for a troublingly tender kiss.

“Just a little at a time, okay?”

You’re humiliated by his encouragement, but you tuck your lip between your teeth and nod, pressing just the head into you, pride forgotten on account of the slight burn between your legs as you sink down on him.

“Oh,” you sigh, long and languid, head rolling back off of your shoulders at the stretch. Eren’s grin has fizzled out into a look of fascination, his eyes glued to where he’s splitting you open. You inch down a little further, wincing at the ache in your thighs and in your walls; he feels even bigger than he looks. Eren notices, wipes a thumb under your eye at a stray tear.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” you hiss out through your clenched jaw, “s’just…so much.”

“Doing so good for me,” Eren’s thumb returns to your clit, swiping across it softly, “does this help?”

Your answer is nothing but a heady whine as you drop down another inch or so, cunt pulsing around the welcome intrusion. Eren’s trying to comfort you, holding you tight to his chest now and murmuring little encouragements into your ear, but his voice is strained and you can feel his hips twitching, begging to buck up into you, just as unraveled as you are at this point. After what seems like eternity, you’re almost there, feeling him deep in you, nudging against your cervix, but there’s still a small space between you, one you can’t manage to close.

“I can’t, Eren,” you whimper, fucking yourself up and down on him in an effort to get that last little bit in, “won’t fit.”

“Yeah it will,” Eren simpers, taking you by the waist, “lemme help.”

Eren adjusts the way you’re sitting, leans you back just a little, and he’s right. The small space between you disappears, both of you groaning when your clit meets his stomach.

“Oh, f-fuck,” you stammer, rolling your hips against him experimentally.

“So goddamned tight,” Eren huffs, voice gruff with the strain of keeping himself under control, “so fucking perfect for me.”

You move, rocking this way and that, marveling at the way each new angle feels. Eren’s digging his teeth into his bottom lips, squeezing your hips hard enough to bruise, but he holds himself back, letting you work yourself open and get a feel for him. When you lean forward, brace your hands on his shoulders and grind your hips back, his cock nudges a spot in you that makes you see stars. You collapse onto Eren’s chest, rutting your hips into him desperately, panting.

“Right there?” Eren’s hands finally move, pulling and pushing your hips back and forth against the spot that has you mewling into his chest.

“Right there,” you gasp, feeling your orgasm building upon itself embarrassingly fast, still raw from his fingers.

“That’s right,” he grunts, moving your body against him faster, “not so mean with my dick up in you, are you?”

You mumble something unintelligible in response that would have been muffled by Eren’s shoulder between your teeth even if it had been a coherent sentence. Your eyes roll back in your head as the pressure builds, and Eren releases his grip from one of your hips to rub hard, fast circles against your clit.

“Come on,” Eren licks up your neck, “give me one more. You can do it, baby, just one more.”

And just like that, you’re cumming again, wailing into his sweaty skin as tears fill your eyes. Eren guides you through it, working your hips into a slow grind, groaning deeply in your ear as you ride it out, moving your hips along with the rhythm he’s set. He rubs circles into your back as you come down, leaving a litter of kisses along your shoulders while you tremble on top of him, nails dug into his biceps.

“That was a big one,” Eren grins at you, all cocky and stupid, when you pull back to look at him. You’re too exhausted to berate his smugness, laughing breathlessly.

“It was good,” you agree, whimpering when Eren lifts you off of him. He tosses you to the side, propping you up on your hands and knees.

“Gonna let me have my fun, now?” Eren asks from behind you, landing a few light spanks to your ass.

“That wasn’t fun?”

“Oh, it was very fun,” Eren slides back into you, all the way to the hilt, punching a groan from your throat, “but doesn’t this feel so much better?”

Before you can respond, Eren’s got his hand around your throat, pulling you up onto your knees until your back is flush with his chest. His fingers sneak up, grab your chin, force you to look down.

“See? Like this, you can even see where I’m fucking all the way up into your little tummy.” His free hand rubs lovingly over the little bulge in the bottom of your stomach pulsing in and out in accordance with his slow thrusts. At this angle, Eren’s hitting that gummy spot in your walls dead-on with each snap of his hips; all you can do is cry and whimper pitifully as he picks up his pace, skin on skin echoing throughout the room.

“E-Eren— fuck,” you can barely form words, overcome by the way he’s just using you, manhandling you and bullying you into the shape of him. Your fucked out mind struggles to grasp onto Historia’s reminder; Eren’s not just a guy, he's ruining you for any man to come after him.

“Feel good, baby?” Eren releases you, placing a hand between your shoulder blades, shoving your face into the mattress creaking underneath you and shoving himself that much deeper, fucking up against your cervix. “You feel so good for me. Best pussy I’ve ever had baby, s’like magic.”

You notice the slur in his words, like he’s drunk on you, getting lost in you as much as you’re drowning in him. You shove your hips back towards him, trying to line up in rhythm with his thrusts, make this good for him too instead of being a complete pillow princess. Eren slaps his hands onto your hips and grabs hard, hard enough to leave little fingerprint bruises and move your hips for you.

“Look at you, pretty little thing all slutted out just for me,” he sounds strung out, like his inner monologue is just spilling from his lips, “lemme take care of you, bet I can-“

A hand wraps around your body, thrumming insistently against your puffy, sore clit. You’d like to think the sound that erupts from you is more akin to a moan than a scream, but you’d be lying to yourself. You claw at the bedsheets, desperately trying to run away from the overstimulation- it’s so much, he’s so much-

“Don’t run from me,” Eren slaps your clit sharply, “you can cum again for me, can’t you? After all that fucking talk earlier, I know you can.”

“I can’t, I can-“

“Yes you can,” Eren’s whispering all sweet in your ear like he’s not fucking the life out of you, “just one more, baby, then I’ll give you mine. Promise you can do it.”

Your abused cunt tightens around Eren so viciously you nearly push him out, sobbing into the bed sheets as Eren shoves you over the edge for the third time that night. Eren’s murmuring in your ear how good you are for him, how good you feel, how pretty you look crying for him, only making it all that much sweeter. His hips begin to stutter behind you, and he cums deep in you with a loud groan and a generous amount of swearing.

You collapse in a sweaty heap, Eren pulling you to his chest and affectionately rubbing circles into your back, whispering sweet nothings as you sniffle into your chest. When you start to come back to yourself, giving Eren a meek smile, he runs off to the bathroom for a washcloth to handle the wreck between your legs. That gives you the opportunity to sit up, clutching the sheets to your chest to protect any sense of modesty you might have after that, and take a look around his room.

There are some anime posters on the walls, Jujutsu Kaisen (naturally), Death Note, Bleach, and a framed picture of Eren, Armin, and Mikasa as children. You notice there’s nothing resembling a family photo, and your heart thuds sadly. There’s a desk in the corner scattered with papers, and your curiosity wins out over the trembling in your legs. You toddle over on weak knees, sheets wrapped tightly around yourself, wincing at the feeling of Eren’s cum dripping between your thighs.

To your surprise, most of the papers littering the little desk are sketches of buildings, measurements and keys to each drawing detailed on the side in neat handwriting. They almost look like blueprints, professional and meticulous. You pick one up and study it, missing the creak of the bedroom door.

“What are you doing?” Eren’s got a suspicious look on his face, holding a little cloth and a cup of water in his hands.

“Sorry,” you’re flustered, dropping the paper onto the desk, “I was just–”

“Snooping?” He cocks a knowing eyebrow, walking over to you. Your cheeks warm.

“A little. What are these?”

Eren joins you by the desk, spreading a large hand over the collection of drawings. “Designs.”

“For what?”

“I was an engineering major,” he says simply, shrugging. You can tell he’s a little uncomfortable, but when he doesn’t elaborate, your curiosity outweighs your manners.

“You went to college?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Eren chides, scooping you up bridal-style, sheets and all, and walking you both back over to sit on the bed. Your stomach does somersaults; you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of how easily he can just move you where he wants. “Yeah, I sell drugs or whatever, but ‘m not a complete idiot.”

“I’m sorry,” you say earnestly, letting him open your legs and gently wipe at you where you’re sticky and dripping, “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just surprised s’all. Why didn’t you do anything with your degree?”

Eren frowns, clearly you’ve hit a sore spot. “I couldn’t stand the idea of the nine to five, wife and kids shit. My dad and my brother really pushed it on me, so they haven’t exactly been gung-ho about the fact I never used my diploma. They still think I’m just bartending somewhere.”

You wince; from your conversation at Scout’s, you know you’ve now tread into completely inappropriate territory for a one-night stand. “I didn’t mean to bring it up, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Eren offers a tense smile, “you didn’t know.”

“Your drawings are actually really good.”

“They’re designs, not drawings,” Eren corrects you with a chuckle, “just because I finished school doesn’t mean I stopped liking the work. Just…don’t really want to settle yet, you know?”

You nod. “I know the feeling. Want to just drop it?”

Eren smiles gratefully, pulling the sheets back around you. “You cold? I can find something comfy for you to throw on while I cook.”

You scrunch your nose. “Cook?”

“Think I’d put in that much work on you and not take care of you after?” Eren snorts, already having set you on the bed and started rummaging through his drawers. “What kind of man do you take me for?”

You blush, having expected nothing more than a pat on the bottom and a goodbye after Eren added you as another notch in his belt. “Didn’t particularly take you for any type of man, but definitely not a chef. What are you cooking?

“Burgers,” Eren turns around with a triumphant grin, holding out a corny t-shirt that says Kiss the Chef on it in enormous, white letters. “You want this one, or the Grill Dad shirt?”

#much ado about nothing #PART 3!!!! AH!#i love this chapter so much i hope u guys do too #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren x you #aot x reader #aot smut #aot fic #eren jaeger fic #snk x reader #snk x you #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction

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sheikahwarriork · 6 months

Note

Got a prompt for you

Dimileth Post-Timeskip pre-Gronder unplanned pregnancy

(thank you so much anon, i had so much fun writing this!! hope you enjoy it too :3 <3)

wordcount: 1.2k

“Fuck!”

“… Fuck indeed”.

Byleth looked up at Mercedes, biting her lips. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!”

Mercedes sighed, visibly worried for her professor. “I think… you should at least tell him, professor. The final choice is entirely yours, of course, but he has to know”. She hesitated. “He needs to know”.

Byleth lowered her gaze. “Sadly, I think you’re right”.

The former mercenary was standing in front of the Cathedral, unable to step inside. She caressed her belly almost unconsciously. ‘You’re not a mistake. I just… I'd rather prefer you not to meet your father when he’s… like that’.

The belly didn’t respond.

Byleth was angry. Furious. She had never felt such rage, not even to Kronya the day Jeralt died. And the worst part? She didn’t even know who exactly this rage was for. Herself? Maybe. Destiny? Not exactly; destiny was Sothis, and Sothis was long gone. Him? Well, yes, of course; but not only. Biology? That one, too. Maybe especially it.

Byleth’s gaze wandered inside the Cathedral, immediately recognizing his figure, standing in front of the old Goddess statue, as he did every single fucking day since they reunited.

Okay, maybe that anger was totally for Dimitri. What did he do, since she woke up, since she found him? Kill, talk to the dead; kill, argue with Byleth; kill; and kiss her. He kissed her. He fucking kissed her. That damn bastard, who once was so afraid of his feelings he even took back his love confession, had the gall to grab her and kiss her like she was water and he was lost in a desert. He kissed her at the worst time possible because she had waited for it for so long, and that wasn’t the right time. She had kissed him back. Byleth missed her Dimitri; missed the sweet prince, missed the caring student, missed her kind friend. She shouldn’t have kissed him back. She should have scolded him, have stepped back. That… that wasn’t her Dimitri. Her lips weren’t for that… not-Dimitri. She should have gone away. She hadn’t, of course, because when Dimitri’s hungry lips captured hers, she felt… desire. Longing. Fire; a burning sensation she thought would kill her instantly. It hadn’t. She indulged in the fire, she lost herself in that fire. She was fire; she had been since the beginning.

Byleth shook her head; it was pointless to think about… that. What is done is done.

She stepped inside the Cathedral; he didn’t turn to her, his shoulders startled slightly, the only sign he noticed her presence.

Oh, the anger was back. Like a tsunami. “Oi, asshole!” Byleth shouted, unable to stop herself. “I have something important to tell you, so at least, look at me”.

Dimitri hesitated for a moment, but apparently something in Byleth’s tone caught his curiosity, since he did turn to her. He just shot her a vague questioning glare.

Byleth sighed. She thought about the advice Mercedes gave her, about what to tell him, how to tell him—

“I’m pregnant”.

It didn’t go exactly as planned.

Dimitri’s eyes widened, the hand holding Areadbhar twitched. He didn’t say anything, just looked at her for forty seconds straight.

“… Who”, he eventually said.

Byleth furrowed. “What?!”

“Who dared touch you”, Dimitri growled, his voice raising in tone.

Byleth blinked a few times. “What the hell do you mean”.

Dimitri was getting closer; he stopped a few inches from Byleth’s face.

“I’ll kill them. I’ll kill whoever dared to touch you, no, whoever dares to even look at you—”

‘Oh… oh heavens, no. He can’t be that dumb, can he?’

“What are you talking about?”

“… The baby’s father, of course”, he hissed, visibly annoyed. “Who is he”. Dimitri looked away, almost as if he was unable to hold her gaze. Almost as if he feared the answer.

‘Oh. He is that dumb’.

“Who do you think he is?” Byleth asked, almost casually. He was going to pay for his dumbness, and she deserved some fun.

Dimitri turned to her, anger in his eyes. “Don’t tease me, you! Tell me who dared touch my—”

“‘Your’ what? Am I yours now?” Byleth interrupted him, folding her arms, holding his gaze.

Dimitri gasped and fell silent. Byleth, still looking him in the eye, grabbed his hand and placed it on her belly.

“This is yours. This— is ours”. ‘You dumbass’, she also thought, but decided to keep it to herself.

Dimitri’s eyes went from their joined hands to her face, looking at her in disbelief.

“Keep in mind—I’m not asking you for help or… or opinions. I don’t need them and don’t care about them. I’m just telling you because you have the right to know—”

Byleth stopped talking when Dimitri suddenly dropped to his knees, their joined hands still placed on Byleth’s belly. It took her a few seconds to notice he was sobbing. Desperately sobbing.

“I’m sorry”, Dimitri was mumbling. “I’m so sorry”.

Yes, Byleth was generally angry with him, but she didn’t hate him. Quite the opposite, in fact. That’s why she yielded and took his face in her hands, looking at him. “Why are you apologizing, Dimitri?” she asked softly.

Dimitri startled, as he did every time Byleth called him by his name. He tried to turn away, but Byleth kept holding him, looking him in the eye. “Answer me”, she demanded.

“I…” Dimitri gasped, searching for words. “Your… child… deserves a better father. A better person. All I know how to do is kill… I have to… They… are telling me this is wrong; I do not have the right—”

“Dimitri”, Byleth interrupted firmly. “A soon-to-be-human is growing inside me. A child will be born. I will be their mother, you will be their father. Now, tell me. Who is more important? The long-gone ones, or the coming ones? Who do you want to dedicate your life to? What, who does your life belong to?”

Dimitri’s eyes were shut, tears along his cheeks. “I… want… it to be yours. Both of you”. His eyes opened. “But, tell me, professor... Please, Byleth, tell me... How do I silence their desperate pleas? How do I... How do I save them? Ever since that day nine years ago... I have lived only to avenge the fallen… How could I be a fitting father for a small creature if I can’t even please those that are already here…”

“Those are not here, Dimitri”, Byleth whispered, her forehead touching his. “But I’m here, and they… they will be soon”, she added, bringing his hand back to her belly. “You just need to choose. Not necessarily now. I’ll… wait for you; I’ll always wait for you.” Her vision was blurred. Was she crying too? ‘I miss you, Dimitri. I miss you so much. Please, don’t leave me alone anymore…’

She would wait until the end of time, if needed, to have a glimpse of her Dimitri back. She knew it, and it hurt. Because she was aware she’d never stop loving him. And, sometimes, to love means to wait. And, often, waiting is painful.

Lost in her tears, she didn’t immediately notice Dimitri’s hands softly caressing her cheeks. When she did, she opened her eyes to meet Dimitri’s resolute gaze. “And I’ll always choose you, my beloved.”

#thank u so muchhhh i hope the grammar is right oh my god #im so tired rn and writing in english is DIFFICULT #i have another ask with a prompt but ill work to it tomorrow #also guys why lately are you asking me about dimileth babies. even the other ask is about children #im 23 please dont make me think too much about having kids HELp #joking im appreciating these asks SO MUCH I LOVE UUU #dimileth #byleth eisner #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #fe3h #my fic #dimileth fic #angst with a happy ending #<3 #sothis ships dimileth

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