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iluvsashabraus · 4 months ago

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Behind Her Back.

Pairing: BSF’s Boyfriend!Eren x Toxic!F!Reader, slight Jean x F!Reader

Word Count: 11K

Summary: Your best friend's boyfriend seems to have caught feelings for you. Too bad you don't reciprocate.

A/N: Hiiii!! I apologize in advance for this messy fic lmao. I still think it's a bit cringy but I can't let go of 11K words so I revised it as best as I could. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! As always, if you have questions, feedback or want additional h.c, my inbox is always open:) I hope you enjoy <3

(Warnings are below undercut)

Warning(s): rough sex, jealous!eren, toxic!reader, cheating, angst, oral (69 with jean specifically), sex in the woods, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, light choking, semi public sex, squirting, oral (m receiving)

The cafeteria is buzzing with noise. The hum of casual conversations, the sharp clatter of trays, the soft, cheesy pop music playing from hidden speakers overhead. You're sitting beside your best friend, absently dipping your fries in ketchup while she raves about her perfect boyfriend.

"I really think he’s the one," Mikasa sighs dreamily, twirling her straw in her overpriced smoothie. "He’s so sweet. Like yesterday? He Doordashed me dinner because he was too tired to come over. He’s been working out so much lately. Said the coach has been giving him an earful."

You bite down on your fry to hide your smirk.

Because you know the truth.

Eren wasn’t too tired to come over

He was too busy fucking you.

Last night, while Mikasa was waiting on her food delivery, Eren had you on your knees, his fingers tangled in your hair, your lips wrapped around his cock, watching his head fall back against the wall as he groaned your name. One second, you were teasing him with slow, deliberate strokes of your tongue, and the next, he was yanking you up, bending you over, and slamming into you so hard the bed frame nearly cracked against the wall.

"You should really go, Eren," you had whispered mid-thrust, breathless and taunting, your lips curling into a wicked grin. "Your girlfriend’s gonna think you’re cheating."

His teeth had grazed your jaw as he chuckled darkly, his hands gripping your hips even tighter. "I am cheating."

And God, you fucking loved it.

This wasn’t the first time. And it damn sure wouldn’t be the last.

Eren had first laid eyes on you at a frat party, long before he started dating Mikasa. That night, you had walked in wearing your short, red dress that defined all your curves. You flashed him a look that felt like a challenge. Since day fucking one, Eren knew you were going to be a big problem.

It was bound to happen.

At another party. You flirted shamelessly, left lingering touches, watched the way his eyes darkened when you leaned in too close.

He was confused because, weren’t you his girlfriend’s best friend? Was he being tested?

He should’ve walked away. You were off-limits. Forbidden.

But when you pulled him into an empty room, pressing your lips to his, he stopped questioning and started taking.

His girlfriend hadn’t been at the party, she had been sick in her dorm, completely unaware that her best friend was letting Eren touch her like she belonged to him.

Eren had tried to stay away after that. He really had.

But fuck, you were addictive. A pretty little tease with a filthy mouth and no morals. And he was a man with no self-control. So when the opportunity came again, he didn’t hesitate.

What was supposed to be a one-time mistake turned into two. Then three. Then it just… never stopped.

You couldn't even lie, Eren was phenomenal in bed. Mikasa wasn’t exaggerating about that part, or the size of his dick, either. But while you saw Eren for nothing more than a good fuck, he saw you as something else entirely.

An obsession.

Eren had been with plenty of women before. Too many to count. Girls threw themselves at him constantly. Pretty, easy, and desperate for a taste of him. But none of them compared to you.

You were his best-kept secret, his favorite sin. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get you out of his fucking head.

So as Mikasa keeps talking, going on and on about how sweet Eren is, how she sees a future with him, you barely hear a word of it.

Because you know the truth.

Eren Jaeger? Sweet?

Not even fucking close.

Mikasa could glaze him all she wanted. She could shove her perfect little life in your face—the fraternity president boyfriend, the money, the daddy-pulled connections.

But at the end of the day, you knew the real Eren.

The Eren who fucks you raw in your dorm and stays after, tracing invisible patterns into your skin.

The Eren who grips your chin and forces you to look at him when you moan someone else’s name just to piss him off.

The Eren who wishes you were his.

You slide your phone into your lap, unlocking it with a swipe.

You: You're such a liar. You weren’t tired last night.

A response comes almost instantly.

Eren: My dick begs to differ.

You stifle a grin, tossing a casual glance at Mikasa. She’s still talking.

Completely unaware.

You type back.

You: Still in class?

Eren: Yeah

You: Bet you wish I was under the desk right now ;)

Three dots appear. Then disappear.

Then, finally,

Eren: Don’t start.

Oh, but you already have.

And you both know he’s weak for you.

You smile at your phone, and from the corner of your eye, you notice Mikasa’s gaze flick toward you.

Immediately, you turn it off.

Now she’s intrigued. Nosy, like always.

"Ooh, who are you texting?" she asks, leaning in.

You flash her a teasing smirk. "Mr. Hottie."

Mikasa groans. "Ughhh, when are you gonna tell me his name? It has to be someone I know, you just don’t wanna admit it."

Oh, you know him alright.

You glance at the time and quickly push your chair back. "Shit, I gotta go, or I’ll be late for class. See you later, Mika."

And with that, you’re gone.

Now, you’re probably thinking—why the fuck would you sleep with your best friend’s boyfriend? She’s your best friend since high school! Why would you betray her like that?

Simply put, your “best friend” is a raging, entitled, insufferable bitch.

Spoiled. Bratty. If it’s not her way, be prepared to never hear the end of it. She bullies, belittles, and flaunts her privilege like it’s a goddamn badge of honor. Her parents’ status opens every door for her, and she acts like she earned it.

You were just fucking done with it.

Done with the way she pretended to listen when you opened up about your childhood—the way she nodded along when you told her you grew up dirt poor, how you fought tooth and nail for a scholarship just to be here.

And then, the second you were done talking, she’d flip her hair and say, “Ugh, yeah, I totally get it. My parents refused to get me a new car last year, and I was like, hello? I deserve it?”

Like your struggles were even remotely fucking comparable.

But you swallowed it. Bit your tongue. Let it roll off your back.

Till you couldn’t.

Because it wasn’t just the privilege. It was the way she spoke to you.

The way she constantly, subtly, masterfully reminded you that no matter how hard you worked, you’d never be her equal. She was Queen B. You were just a worker. A pawn. A disposable sidekick for her to play off of.

The comments were always so backhanded. Dripping in fake innocence. She would tear you down, crush your spirit, and then blink at you with wide, clueless eyes, acting like she had no idea her words had left you raw.

You weren’t fucking stupid.

She knew exactly what she was doing.

And how exactly did you know?

Because in high school, there was a rumor. A nasty, vile, rumor that circulated around the small town you grew up in. It nearly destroyed you, your reputation and your chances of going to post secondary.

It said your mother—a single, struggling woman who worked herself to the bone to keep a roof over your head—was a whore. That she sold her body to pay the bills.

And her daughter?

Did it for free.

For years, you never knew who started it.

It wasn’t until a friend of a friend circled back to you and informed you that it was Mikasa who started it. All you could do was scoff, because of course she was the one behind it.

She had spread that rumor like wildfire, laughing behind your back as she watched you fall apart. She never even had the decency to own up to it.

So now?

She wants to talk about sex work?

Fine.

Because now, you do it on the daily.

With her fucking boyfriend.

The same one she wants to build her perfect little future with.

The same one who spends half his nights inside you.

And if she ever finds out?

Oh, well.

Guess you’ll cross that bridge when you get there.

–

You're making your way to class when a hand grabs your wrist and yanks you behind a pillar.

Your heart jumps. You let out a startled yelp, but the second you meet those emerald eyes, you smile.

"Eren, you scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry," he mutters, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all. His hands are already sliding down your waist, fingers digging into your ass, greedily.

You giggle, shoving at his chest. "You have no shame."

"Neither do you."

And before you can argue, he kisses you.

It’s deep and lazy, like he has all the time in the world, like he wants to drag this moment out, but you pull away first. He groans, resting his forehead against yours, fingers toying with your necklace.

"Your girlfriend is so fucking insufferable," you mutter.

Eren chuckles. "Tell me about it. Was it the 'spending the rest of our lives together’ speech, or the thirty-dollar DoorDash?"

You roll your eyes. "Both."

His lips twitch as he plays with a strand of your hair.

"Anyways, I gotta go." You step aside, adjusting your skirt. "See you later." Before you could leave, Eren grabs your hand and you look back at him, confused. "Later, as in, I should come over tonight?"

You smirk. "No, you horndog. Fuck your girlfriend once in a while."

And with that, you’re gone. You don’t notice the way Eren’s jaw clenches. You don’t see the flicker of frustration flash through his eyes.

Fuck.

What were you doing to him?

It was supposed to be just sex.

But lately, he’s been wanting more.

At first, it was little things.

A good morning text after a night together. A goodnight text even when he was lying beside Mikasa. The way he found himself sticking around after you fucked, lingering in your bed instead of leaving like he should.

When Jean started sniffing around, Eren almost lost his shit.

He wanted to put his fist through a wall when he overheard Jean saying, “Yeah, I might ask her out. She’s fucking fine”

Instead, Eren forced a smirk and lied through his teeth.

"She’s not looking for anything right now, man."

"Really?" Jean frowned.

"Yeah," Eren shrugged, keeping his voice casual. "She’s a heartless bitch when it comes to rejecting guys. Spares no feelings. Wouldn’t want that to be you, bro."

Jean hesitated, and that was all Eren needed.

But no matter what he did, you wouldn’t see him the way he saw you.

Every time he tried to test the waters, to gauge if you felt even an ounce of what he was feeling, you’d shut him down.

Remind him about Mikasa.

Mock him.

Push him away.

Eren fucking hated it.

Because most girls would beg for him.

Want him.

But you acted like you couldn’t care less.

And that’s what made him want you even more.

–

You’re sitting in your English class when your phone buzzes against the desk, over and over again. A quick glance at the screen shows the group chat completely blowing up.

Mikasa: OMGGG guess what!! 👀✨ Mikasa: The frat rented out a whole-ass campground for the long weekend!! Right by the lake!!Mikasa: Pack your shit, we’re goingggg!!

Your brows furrow. Weird. You had just seen Eren, and he never mentioned it. But whatever. Maybe it just slipped his mind. Either way, now you had a whole weekend away to look forward to.

The weekend arrives and it all comes way too fast. Between last-minute shopping and shoving random shit into a bag, you barely have enough time to think. Mikasa reassures you that the guys are handling the food and tents, so all you need is clothes.

By the time she pulls up outside your dorm in Eren’s car, you’re already exhausted. The trunk pops open, and as you’re tossing your bag in, Eren leans in. For a brief moment, it’s just the two of you.

"Nice of you to finally tell me about this trip," you murmur, narrowing your eyes at him.

Eren smirks, completely unfazed. "Didn’t wanna give you time to back out."

You roll your eyes, about to step away, but before you can, he delivers a quick slap to your ass.

You gasp, whipping around, but all you get is a wink before he grabs your bag and hauls it into the car. Cocky bastard.

The ride there was hell on earth. Mikasa won’t shut the fuck up, going on and on about something you couldn’t care less about. Between her constant chatter and the winding roads making your head spin, you feel a migraine creeping in.

At some point, exhaustion wins. You close your eyes, resting your head against the window, and let sleep take over. When you blink awake, the car is parked, and Mikasa is gone. Your door is open, and Eren is crouched beside you, holding out a water bottle and two Tylenols.

"Thought you’d need this."

Blinking at him, a little dazed, a little confused, you hesitantly take the bottle from his hands. He tilts his head, watching you closely. "You gonna take them or just stare at me, princess?"

You scowl but grab the pills, washing them down quickly. As soon as you do, he smirks, pleased with himself. And then, so quickly you barely register it, he leans in and presses a featherlight kiss to your forehead. You don’t even have time to react before he’s grabbing your bags and slamming the car door shut. You sit there, stunned, pulse hammering in your ears.

By the time you and Eren make it to the campsite, everything is already in motion. The guys are halfway through pitching the tents, coolers are being unloaded, and Mikasa is, as expected, barking orders at people.

Armin, clipboard in hand, waves you over. "Sleeping arrangements are set," he says, glancing at his notes. "You’re with Jean."

Your brows raise. Jean Kirstein. You’ve heard of him. Seen him around. He’s one of Eren’s best friends.

And when you look up, Eren is already staring.

Jaw clenched. Hands flexing at his sides.

You smirk, shouldering your bag.

Oh, this was gonna be fun.

Jean was cute. A nice guy. The type you’d absolutely hook up with, but date? That was still up in the air. Hey, maybe he’d surprise you.

As Armin points you toward your tent, you can feel Eren’s stare burning into your back. You don’t have to turn around to know his entire body is humming with irritation. But you just shrug it off.

Jean grabs your bags before you can protest, carrying them effortlessly to the tent. When he unzips it, you’re surprised to find everything already set up. An air mattress, his sleeping bag, soft LED lights strung along the sides.

"Damn, you came prepared," you comment, impressed.

Jean grins. "Had to. Can’t let my tentmate suffer, can I?"

He helps set up your stuff, too, cracking jokes the entire time. He’s easy to talk to—funny, charming, and flirty when he wants to be. You like that.

The frat had a whole day of activities planned, but the lake was the biggest event.

From swimming to tubing to jet skis, the day is packed with water sports.

And to your luck, Jean was great with all of those. He grew up swimming, meaning he was a natural in the water. He shows off a little, diving in perfectly, flexing just enough to make it noticeable, but you don’t mind the view.

At one point, when the boat ride gets too bumpy, you end up in his lap. Another sharp wave hits, and Jean groans into your ear, his hands gripping your waist instinctively. You bite back a laugh, looking up at him.

"Sorry," you giggle, sliding off his lap.

He smirks. "No complaints here."

Later, when it comes time for jet skiing, you hesitate. The water is a little intimidating, but Jean works his magic, coaxing you into trying it out. "I won’t go too fast. Promise," he says, holding out his hand.

And true to his word, he keeps a steady, comfortable speed. Eventually, once you start feeling the adrenaline rush, you tell him, "Okay, faster."

You’re laughing, wind in your hair, having the time of your life. You don’t even notice Eren watching from the dock, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles go white.

And then, Jean takes your hand. Just casually, as you walk down the dock, fingers laced together. It’s innocent, playful.

But to Eren, it isn’t. It’s a fucking slap in the face.

–

Later that evening, after everything settles down, you make your way to the outdoor showers. The sun is low in the sky, the lake reflecting the warm orange glow. You’re about to rinse off when suddenly, a hand grabs your wrist and yanks you towards the other side of the shower, out of sight from everyone.

"What the fuck—"

You look up, and it’s Eren.

His jaw is tight, green eyes burning with jealousy. He cages you in, pressing you back against the rough wood.

"What the hell is going on between you and Jean?" he demands, voice low, angry.

You blink at him, feigning innocence. "Um, nothing? Why? What does it look like?"

"Don’t play stupid," he grits out, stepping closer. "Ask to switch tents with someone. Connie’s sharing with Sasha—switch with Connie."

You scoff, crossing your arms. "Why would I do that? I like my sleeping arrangement."

His nostrils flare. "Seriously? Fucking stop. It’s not funny."

"Eren," you sigh, rolling your eyes, "you need to cool it, or you’re gonna blow our fucking cover."

Before he can argue, you see Jean approaching over the hill, carrying a towel. You had asked him to hold it up for you for privacy while you used the outdoor shower.

Eren sees him. And sees red.

His nails dig into his palms, rage vibrating off him in waves. He wants to snap. Wants to grab you, throw you over his shoulder, drag you back to his tent, and make you remember exactly who the fuck you belong to.

But he can’t. Because if he reacts, he’ll blow this entire thing up.

So instead, he turns on his heel and storms off. Doesn’t look back. Doesn’t risk another second of watching you strip in front of Jean.

Because if he does, he might actually lose his mind.

–

The fire crackled, sending sparks into the night as the group huddled around, sharing ghost stories, stuffing their faces with s’mores, and laughing at stupid inside jokes. There weren’t enough chairs for everyone, which meant Mikasa was on Eren’s lap… and you were on Jean’s.

Not that you minded. Beneath the shared blanket draped over the both of you, Jean’s hands roamed your bare thighs, his touch slow and lazy, like he was memorizing the feel of your skin. It was soothing, almost enough to pull you to sleep right then and there. But the way his fingers occasionally squeezed, tracing patterns along your inner thigh? That kept you very much awake.

Eren, across from you, was the complete opposite. Stiff. Silent. Seething. His fingers tapped against the armrest of his chair, his jaw shut so tightly you swore you could hear his teeth grinding. He wasn’t paying attention to the conversation, didn’t even acknowledge Mikasa’s attempts to pull him in. No, his eyes were locked on you.

Yet, all you could do is enjoy Jean’s presence. He leaned in, voice low in your ear. “Tired, sweetheart?”

You hummed. “Mhm. Long day.”

Jean’s fingers crept up your thigh. “Wanna turn in?”

Eren dropped his beer bottle, and the sharp crack of glass shattering snapped both of your heads up. He glances down at the shards of glass, his breathing heavy, and when Mikasa gasped and bent down to help clean up, he went back to his tent without a word.

Jean's face twisted in concern. “Damn. What’s his problem?”

You shrugged, playing dumb. “Beats me.”

–

The air in the tent was thick, humid from the warmth of two bodies pressed close. You were snug in your sleeping bag, wrapped in layers of fleece, but even that wasn’t enough to keep out the night’s chill.

Jean, already tucked into his own bag, turned his head to look at you. “You’re shivering.”

“I’m fine,” you whispered.

He smirked. “You could just share with me. My sleeping bag’s bigger, and I’m very warm.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Jean didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah, actually.”

The bastard. You laughed, shaking your head. You were tempted. It was cold, and you were shivering. And Jean was very warm. So, after a beat, you gave in, slipping out of your bag and into his.

Jean pulled you close immediately, wrapping his arms around you as if he’d been waiting for this moment all night. “Told you,” he murmured against your ear.

You weren’t sure how it started, only that it happened fast. One second, you were tangled up in blankets, pressed chest to chest, and the next, his lips were on yours. Desperate. Starving.

You moaned into his mouth, fingers tugging at his hair as his hands roamed your body, slipping beneath your shirt, palming at your breast. The heat between your legs pulsed when he gripped your hips and pulled you onto his lap, and fuck—the hardness pressing against you had your breath hitching.

Jean groaned, head tipping back. “Shit, sweetie. You feel so fuckin’ good.”

You gasped, grinding down against him, feeling his length strain against his boxers. His fingers slipped between your legs, rubbing slow circles over your clothed clit, and when you whimpered into his mouth, he grinned.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured.

You leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “I wanna suck you off.”

Jean let out a shaky breath, nearly losing it right then and there. “Fuck. Come here, baby.”

You didn’t waste a second. You shifted, turning around to face the opposite way, your ass now right in his face. The both of you hurriedly shoved your pants down, hands fumbling in the dark, and the second your tongue traced the tip of his cock, his mouth was on you.

It was filthy. The wet sounds of slurping, the stifled moans swallowed against skin, the quiet squeak of the air mattress beneath you, it all filled the tent in a sinful symphony. His tongue lapped against your folds, fingers digging into your ass as he devoured you. You moaned around his length, sending vibrations down his cock, and Jean shuddered.

“Shit—gonna cum,” he gritted out, hands gripping your hips as he thrust up into your mouth.

You let him. You took it. Let him fuck himself into your throat until he was spilling on your tongue, groaning against your soaked cunt as you came with him.

The moment was hazy, the world tilting as you collapsed beside him, exhausted and spent. Jean pulled you close, pressing lazy kisses to your forehead as his fingers traced gentle circles on your back.

“Fuck, that was good,” he murmured.

You hummed, barely processing his words as your heavy eyelids fluttered shut. Jean played with your hair, his touch lulling you to sleep, and the last thing you remembered before drifting off was the sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

–

The next morning, you woke to an empty bed.

The space beside you was already cold, but you didn’t panic. You recalled hearing the soft shuffle of movement sometime before dawn, Jean whispering in your ear about an early morning fishing trip with the boys.

The chill morning air nipped at your skin as you stepped out of the tent, stretching your sore muscles. Mikasa was already awake, curled up in one of the camping chairs, a thick blanket draped over her shoulders. A steaming cup of coffee rested between her hands, and her dark hair was messy from sleep.

When she spotted you, her eyes lit up with amusement. “So… is Jean Mr. Hottie?”

You froze. Oh, fuck.

She grinned, completely oblivious to the way your stomach dropped. “Because last night? You guys were so loud!”

You swallowed, trying to play dumb. “We were?”

“Yeah! It sounded like two grizzlies fighting over a salmon.” She laughed, taking a sip of her coffee.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s the stupid air mattress.”

Mikasa snickered, shaking her head. “Eren and I had to mute it out with our own ‘stuff.’ Hence why I’m so tired.”

Your whole body stiffened.

You didn’t want to hear this. You hated hearing this. But you forced yourself to stay neutral. “And how did that go for you?”

Mikasa sighed, leaning back in her chair. “He just made me suck him off.” She frowned, staring into her cup. “I don’t know… he’s been really cold toward me lately. Do you think he’s getting cold feet?”

Your chest tightened. You shouldn’t care. You didn’t care. This wasn’t your problem. This wasn’t your relationship.

Still… even though you hated Mikasa, even though you had no real loyalty to her, something about these conversations always made your morals check in.

You exhaled through your nose, keeping your voice light. “Have you tried talking to him about it?”

“I have, but every time I bring it up, he just shuts me down. He’s not like how he used to be.”

Right. Before he started fucking you.

You forced a small smile. “I’m sure he’ll bounce back. Being the president of the frat isn’t easy work. Maybe he’s just stressed.”

“Maybe…” Mikasa muttered, but she didn’t sound convinced.

Before she could press the conversation any further, you stood up, brushing invisible lint off your sweatshirt. “I’m gonna go wash my face.”

–

By the time you finished getting ready for the day, the guys were back from their fishing trip. You spotted Jean first, looking bright-eyed and grinning as he sauntered toward you.

“Hey, sweetie,” he greeted, his voice warm as his hands instinctively found your waist. You smiled up at him, letting him pull you into his embrace.

Your eyes scanned around and sure enough, Eren was staring again.

His fishing pole was still slung over his shoulder, his damp hoodie clinging to his body from the early morning mist. His face was unreadable, but his eyes? You couldn’t tell, because today it was softer. Was it betrayal? Sadness? Hurt?

Something twisted in your chest. Guilt? Remorse? You weren’t sure.

But whatever it was, you shoved it down. Because Eren had no right to look at you like that. He had a girlfriend. He was supposed to be exclusive to her.

He couldn’t have her and you and expect you to stay loyal to him.

So, instead of addressing the look in his eyes, you smiled at Jean, letting your fingers trail along his arm. Loud. Clear. Intentional.

Eren had no claim over you, and the sooner he accepted that, the better it was for both of you.

–

The day had been perfect. Almost.

It was a full itinerary—archery, swimming, drinking. The usual camp shit. But don’t even ask about archery, because it was a fucking disaster.

You weren’t just bad at it, you were embarrassing. Every shot went wide, some arrows even bouncing off the ground pathetically before reaching the target. At one point, you nearly took out Connie’s eye, and he screamed like it was a drive-by.

Jean had tried to help, standing behind you, adjusting your grip, guiding your movements. But it was pointless. You were terrible and he knew it. But still, he stayed behind you, his hands firm on your arms, his voice warm in your ear.

“You’re just too tense,” he teased. “You gotta loosen up.”

“Oh? You offering a massage?”

His fingers squeezed at your waist, making you laugh. “I don’t do freebies, sweetheart.”

–

By mid-afternoon, the energy had shifted. Not with you. Not with Jean.

With Eren.

Because sometime between lunch and now, he and Mikasa had fought.

Not just a spat. Not their usual bickering where she scolded him for being reckless and he brushed her off like it didn’t matter.

This was different. This was loud. This was heated.

Mikasa had cornered him, voice low but sharp, pleading with him to tell her what was wrong. Why he was so cold. Why he barely touched her anymore. Why he never looked at her like he used to. Why she felt like she was losing him.

Eren just stood there.

Face stoic and silent.

He didn’t care, just walked away.

Didn’t comfort her. Didn’t tell her she was overthinking. Didn’t reassure her with the soft words and tender touches she so obviously craved.

Mikasa had been devastated.

Everyone had heard it.

And now, they were talking.

Because no one knew why he was acting like this. No one understood why he seemed like he’d rather be anywhere else, with anyone else.

But you knew.

–

Later that night, the fire popped, sending flickers of orange light across the group. The smell of roasted marshmallows filled the air, mixing with the night’s chill. You sat in Jean’s lap, your legs wrapped in a cozy blanket as his arms circled your waist, idly tracing patterns on your skin. The moment was easy, the perfect mix of warmth and comfort.

Sasha was going off with one of her ridiculous spooky stories, but your attention was scattered. Your focus wavered, till a giggle made your head turn.

Eren and Mikasa were wrapped up in each other. You didn't need to look closely to see it. His arms around her waist, his lips moving against her skin, and her soft giggles that were too loud to ignore. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

Whatever. If Mikasa was finally getting the attention she wanted, good for her. It was about time.

You didn’t care. Honestly, it was a relief. You were tired of hearing her complain about Eren’s distance, about how he wasn’t paying attention to her. Now she had him, all over her like she always wanted. Let her have it.

You shifted slightly in Jean’s lap, your focus still on him as he teased you about your less-than-stellar archery skills. You were ready with a snarky comeback when a low moan cut through the air, sharp enough to stop the conversation dead in its tracks.

Everyone’s heads snapped to the source—Mikasa, her head thrown back against Eren’s shoulder, eyes shut tight. And it clicked. You didn’t need to see any more than that to know exactly what was happening under that damn blanket.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up, and Jean’s chuckle joined yours. It was too much, Mikasa’s constant complaints, her needy energy for attention, and now here she was, practically giving a live show in front of the group. You looked around, finding everyone else’s uncomfortable glances and subtle eye-rolls.

Connie, ever the asshole, barked at them to take it to the tent, and without missing a beat, they both got up, retreating into the shadows with their drama. That was definitely a mood killer, though. The atmosphere was completely shot, and one by one, people filtered back to their tents, eager to end the night and pretend they didn’t just witness the latest episode of “Mikasa and Eren's Fucked Relationship.”

You're back in the tent, leaning back into Jean. The fire’s warmth long forgotten, the awkwardness lingering in the air like smoke. You felt exhausted from the day’s events and all the noise, so when Jean’s arms pulled you closer, you didn’t protest. You let yourself melt into him, a small, content sigh slipping from your lips.

You were already halfway to sleep before Jean could even try to make a move, and he didn’t push it. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in tighter as you drifted off, the tension of the day finally leaving your body.

It was peaceful, despite everything else that had happened. For now, all that mattered was this quiet moment.

–

It was about 2 a.m. when you woke up, shivering slightly in the cold air. Jean’s grip on you had loosened, and the warmth of his body was now distant. You shifted restlessly, frustrated by your inability to fall back asleep. Grabbing your hoodie and sweats from the edge of your sleeping bag, you quietly slipped out of the tent, careful not to wake Jean.

You were almost two steps away from the tent when you heard the zipper of another. Your heart skipped as you glanced over and saw Eren emerging from Mikasa’s tent. What the hell?

He noticed you instantly and came toward you, his figure still shadowed in the dim moonlight. “You need to use the bathroom?”

You hesitated, thinking fast. “Yeah,” you lied, giving him a small nod.

“Alright, I’ll walk with you.” He started toward the washroom, falling into step beside you, his breath visible in the cool air.

“Did I wake you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice casual.

“No,” he replied, his voice low, almost too casual. “I’ve been up for a while.”

“Oh. How come?”

He shrugged but didn’t offer any further explanation, and you didn’t press. The silence between you both was thick, the only sound being the crunch of your footsteps on the dry leaves.

When you reached the washroom, you hesitated. “Actually, I don’t really need to go,” you admitted. “I just couldn’t fall back asleep.”

Eren gave you a look that you couldn’t quite read, then raised an eyebrow. “Wanna go for a walk instead?”

You didn’t see any harm in it, so you nodded, letting him lead you away from the camp and into the woods. The further you went, the quieter it became, the sounds of nature surrounding you. But it felt awkward—strained. Neither of you spoke for what seemed like forever.

Finally, Eren broke the silence, his voice unexpectedly sharp. “So, do you really like Jean that much?”

His question caught you off guard. You hadn’t expected him to come at you like this. Still, you kept your cool, even though your heart skipped. “Yeah. He’s sweet. Why?”

Eren didn’t respond right away. You could feel the weight of his silence hanging between you. So, you decided to fill it. “I see you and Mikasa worked things out,” you said, forcing a neutral tone. “I’m really happy for you.”

Eren scoffed in disbelief. “Don’t feed me that bullshit. You’re her best friend.”

“And you’re her boyfriend,” you shot back, meeting his eyes.

Eren stopped walking for a moment, his gaze intense, almost too intense. “Yet you’re the one I can’t stop thinking about.”

When Eren pulls you closer, you don’t even question it. Something in the way he moves, the way his breath quickens as he closes the space between you, feels like fate, like something you can’t fight even if you tried. And you’re not trying. In fact, you lean into him, just a little, just enough to feel his chest against yours, his body heat enveloping you.

His hands are on you, firm, possessive, like they were made to touch you. Like they belong there. Your breath catches as his fingers dig into your sides, pulling you closer, and fuck, it feels like he’s branded you. You’re hyper-aware of every inch of his body pressed against yours. You can’t escape it, don’t want to.

He’s close, so close that the air around you feels charged. And before you can even process the thought, you close the gap. Your lips crash together, urgent, desperate, like you’re both starved for this moment. His kiss is hungry, raw, taking as much as it gives, and you can feel the desperation in every movement. It’s a whirlwind. Fast, unrelenting, pulling you right under.

Eren’s hands roam down your body, his grip tightening as he presses you up against the rough bark of the tree. You wince at the sensation, but the pain is nothing compared to the heat coursing through your veins. His lips are everywhere now, dragging along your jaw, your neck, but each touch only makes you want more.

You gasp when his lips find yours again, and this time, you kiss him back with everything you’ve got. It’s wild, it’s chaotic, but it’s exactly what you’ve been waiting for. His body presses you harder into the tree, the bark digging into your back, but you don’t care. You welcome it. It’s not enough to stop you. Nothing can stop you now.

His tongue slides into your mouth, and your hands instinctively grip the front of his shirt, pulling him even closer, if that’s even possible. His breath mingles with yours, and you can feel the heat between you, pulsing with every second that passes. You don’t know how long this moment lasts. Time seems to blur together as you lose yourself in the kiss, in the feeling of his body against yours, in the madness of it all.

Eren grips your thighs and lifts you like it’s nothing, pressing you flush against the tree, his body caging you in, heat rolling off him in waves. The rough bark digs into your back, but the only thing you can focus on is him; his scent, his strength, the way his chest rises and falls against yours.

Your legs tighten around his waist instinctively, and you can feel him straining against the fabric separating you. You grind against him, dragging your hips down to feel all of him, and the groan that rumbles in his chest is so fucking deep, so fucking wrecked, it sends a shiver up your spine.

“Fuckin’ hell.” His voice is a low growl, his forehead pressing against yours for a split second before his mouth is on your jaw, your throat, biting and sucking, leaving his mark on your skin. Branding you.

Your head tilts back, lips parting as a soft, needy moan escapes you.

“I want more,” you breathe into his ear, voice wrecked, desperate.

Eren stills for a second—just a second—before he exhales sharply, a low, dark chuckle vibrating against your throat.

“Yeah?” His voice is gravel, his fingers already yanking down your sweats with one rough tug, leaving them bunched around one ankle. His own pants are pushed down just enough to free his cock, and when you feel the heavy press of him against your soaked folds, you whimper.

Eren groans when he slides his fingers through your slick, spreading it, feeling just how fucking ready you are for him.

“You have me fucking crazy,” he mutters, dragging the tip of his cock through your wetness, teasing you, making you feel every inch of him before he even gives it to you.

His green eyes find yours, dark and burning.

“Gonna fuck this pussy till you’re a crying mess on me,” he breathes, voice thick with lust, his fingers digging into your hips as he lines himself up. “Won’t fucking stop till you’re leaking with my cum.”

Then he sinks in.

Your mouth parts in a silent gasp as he stretches you, fills you to the fucking brim, the thick weight of him pushing deep, deep, deep until he’s buried fully.

For a second, neither of you move.

Eren groans, low and wrecked, his hands gripping your hips as he lets you feel it. Lets you feel just how deep he is, how perfectly his cock fits inside you.

Then he pulls back just enough to slam back in.

You choke on a moan, nails digging into his shoulders as he starts fucking you in earnest, hard, fast, deep—every thrust pushing you higher, higher, higher.

The sound of his skin slapping yours fills the night, filthy and obscene, mixing with your gasps, your moans, the broken curses that fall from his lips.

Your head tips back against the tree, mouth falling open as he hits that spot, over and over, and your body reacts on instinct, pulling him deeper, gripping him tighter.

“Shit—” Eren grits his teeth, his pace never faltering. Never slowing. His hands grip your ass tighter, spreading you open so he can fuck into you deeper, harder, rougher.

“How the fuck—” His voice is low, his forehead pressing against yours as his pace turns brutal. “—was this pussy ever meant for anyone but me?”

You can’t speak. Can’t think. You’re already losing it, your body coiling so tight you feel like you might snap.

And Eren can feel it.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he groans, his hand slipping between you, fingers rubbing your clit in tight, perfect circles. “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

A sharp cry tears from your throat as your body clenches around him, tightening, squeezing, fucking drowning him. His thrusts grow erratic, hips slamming into you like he’s trying to fuck you into the tree, into the dirt, into the fucking ground.

Then his hand moves from your waist to your throat, wrapping around it, tilting your head up so he can watch you fall apart.

“That’s right,” he grits out, his cock twitching inside you, his voice turning ragged as his hips stutter against yours. “Fucking take it.”

And when you cum, when you fucking explode around him, clenching so tight he can barely fucking move, Eren follows, groaning deep in his chest as he buries himself as deep as he can, filling you up to the fucking brim.

His hands grip your thighs tight, and before you can even catch your breath, he shifts, hiking your legs over his shoulders. The new angle makes you gasp, makes you feel him even deeper, the thick, swollen head of his cock pressing into that sensitive, aching spot inside you.

“Fuck—” Your voice is already wrecked, but Eren doesn’t slow down.

If anything, he picks up the pace.

His hips snap forward, slamming into you with a force that knocks the breath out of you, his cock dragging along every nerve ending that has you seeing fucking stars.

Your fingers claw at his arms, at his shoulders, at anything you can grab onto, but he stops you, trapping your wrists above your head with one hand, pinning you to the tree. His body keeps you in place, fucking into you so deep it feels like he’s about to split you open.

Your body starts trembling, tightening, your orgasm building too fast, too soon. And Eren already knows.

“You gonna cum already?” he taunts, voice rough, his forehead pressing against yours as he watches you fall apart beneath him. “Thought you could handle me, baby.”

“I-I—fuck—” Your words are lost in moans, gasps, pleasure coiling so tight it’s unbearable.

Eren just grins, his free hand dropping between you, rubbing your clit in tight, merciless circles.

Your body reacts instantly, your back arching, your mouth parting, your legs shaking as that coil inside you snaps.

You cum hard, thighs clamping around him as your pussy squeezes his cock so fucking tight he groans, his rhythm faltering for a split second.

But he doesn’t stop.

Doesn’t fucking let up.

“Too much,” you cry, voice breaking, your entire body shaking beneath him.

“Nah,” Eren growls, driving into you harder, deeper, faster. “This is exactly what you fucking wanted.”

Your moans turn helpless, breathless, your body over-sensitive, overwhelmed. He’s fucking you like he means to ruin you, to break you in.

His teeth graze your jaw, your throat, his grip bruising on your waist as he pounds into you, relentless.

“This pussy is mine,” he mutters, voice low and dark in your ear. “Fucked Jean with it once and now you think it belongs to him? Nah, baby. You were fucking made for me.”

Your stomach tightens, pleasure crests again way too soon, way too strong.

Eren can feel it. He can fucking tell.

“You gonna cum again?” he grits out, his hand tightening around your wrists, his other still playing with your clit, determined to push you over the fucking edge.

“Eren—fuck—” Your words dissolve into moans, your entire body jerks, locks up, the pleasure hitting you so hard it almost hurts. Your pussy clenches around his cock, the tight, pulsing heat pulling him even deeper, and when his fingers press against your clit, you fucking squirt.

It’s sudden, involuntary, completely out of your control, your release gushing out around his cock, soaking him, dripping down your thighs.

Eren groans so deep it’s nearly a growl, his movements stuttering for just a second before he starts fucking into you again, riding out your high like he’s trying to force another one out of you.

Your head falls back, dazed, wrecked, gone. Eren catches your jaw, forcing you to look at him, to stay present as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“Look at that,” he breathes, watching the mess you made. “So fucking pretty when you lose it on my cock.”

He grabs your hips, holds you still, buries himself deep, and groans. Hot, thick ropes flood your insides, and the sensation makes you clench, whimper, tremble, your body barely able to take it.

Eren stays inside you, filling you up, holding you there as he catches his breath. Your vision is hazy, spotty, your body still trembling, your lungs struggling to keep up.

For a moment, silence lingers, but then he speaks.

“I don’t like you with Jean.”

Your stomach twists, but you don’t let it show. Instead, you tilt your head, smirking just a little. “Well, then it’s a damn good thing that you’re not my boyfriend.”

His jaw tenses.

His hands on your hips tighten, like he wants to hold you there, make you stay, make you fucking listen.

But before he can, you slip out of his grasp, his cock slipping out of you with a messy, wet sound, cum still dripping down your thighs as you pull your sweats up. You don’t look back.

He’s left gutted, fists clenched, watching you walk away like he isn’t about to fucking lose his mind.

–

The next morning, nobody suspected a thing.

You had slipped back into the tent before sunrise, body still aching, used, sore in ways you had no business being.

Jean didn’t stir when you nestled back into your sleeping bag, didn’t notice you were gone. And since the camp hadn’t erupted into chaos, since Mikasa wasn’t ripping through the trees looking for her boyfriend, you figured Eren had kept his mouth shut.

You were limping, not enough to draw attention, but just enough that your gait felt unnatural. You played it off, rolling your shoulders, stretching like you had just slept in a weird position.

The morning was peaceful. The fire crackled as everyone moved around lazily, cooking breakfast, packing up their things. Mikasa leaned into Eren’s side like everything was normal, talking to him about something you weren’t paying attention to.

Eren didn’t respond.

Not to her.

After breakfast, the gang started packing up. The tents came down, bags were loaded into cars, and you made your way to Jean’s, tossing your stuff into the back seat.

It was the obvious choice.

Jean had offered, and his car meant six peaceful hours without sitting next to Eren or Mikasa. Sure, it’d take longer since Jean was towing the boat, but it didn’t matter.

His company was what you needed.

–

You head back to the campsite to see if everyone’s ready to leave, and there she is.

Mikasa, glowing.

She’s practically vibrating with excitement, beaming as you overhear her telling Eren about the scholarship she just won. The scholarship.

The one you needed to fund your education.

The one you had spent months working for.

She wouldn’t have even known about it if it weren’t for you. It wasn’t like she needed it anyway. Her well-off parents were paying for everything, while you were fighting just to stay afloat, trying to avoid living paycheck to paycheck.

Her voice is light, effortless, as if this hadn’t been handed to her on a silver fucking platter.

"It’ll open so many doors for me," she says, smiling so wide it makes your stomach twist. She is completely oblivious to the way your fists curl at your sides.

Like her life wasn’t already a series of open doors. Like this wasn’t everything to you. Like you hadn’t been grinding, sacrificing, bleeding for this chance.

And now it was gone. Because Mikasa’s dad pulled a few strings. Because she applied behind your back. Because she never once stopped to think that maybe she didn’t deserve it as much as you did.

Everything was a competition to her and she always needed to win. Even if she has to play dirty.

You try to breathe. You try to swallow it down. You tell yourself it is what it is. But it feels like something lodged in your chest, sharp and suffocating.

When Mikasa walks over later, her voice all bubbly and sweet, like she wasn’t standing there holding your future in her hands, you know you’re not going to be able to hold your tongue.

“I can’t believe I got in!” she gushes, oblivious. “I’m so excited. This is going to change everything for me!”

Your jaw locks.

Your nails dig into your palms.

And then, before you can stop yourself, it slips out.

"You're lucky, Mikasa. You have all the connections. Your dad can get you whatever you want."

The smile falters. Her brows knit together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Your throat is tight. The anger has been simmering for years, and now it’s boiling over.

“I didn’t have a dad to pull strings for me,” you snap, voice sharp enough to cut. “My mom doesn’t give a shit about me. She’s too busy with her boyfriend to notice that I’ve been scraping by for years. This scholarship was my way out, Mikasa. It was my fucking chance.”

Mikasa blinks. “I… I didn’t know—”

“Yes, you did.” You let out a bitter laugh. “If you ever actually listened when I talked, instead of scrolling on your phone the whole time, maybe you would’ve picked up on it. I needed that scholarship. You didn’t.”

Your voice cracks, heat rising in your chest.

“Your parents love you. They support you. You’ve got a safety net, Mikasa. You’ll always land on your feet. Your name alone opens doors. Your family makes sure of it.”

You take a shaky breath, eyes burning.

“Meanwhile, I’m out here breaking myself just to prove I belong. To prove I deserve to be in the same fucking rooms you walk into without trying.”

“That’s not fair,” she says, voice small. “I worked hard for this.”

You scoff. Hard?

Hard is what you’ve been doing your entire life.

Hard is working double shifts while keeping your GPA spotless. Hard is knowing no one will pull strings for you, that if you don’t fight tooth and nail for what you want, you’ll get nothing.

Mikasa will never know that struggle.

And she sure as hell didn’t have to fight for this.

“You don’t get to act like we started at the same place,” you say coldly. “You don’t get to pretend like you needed this the way I did.”

The words land like a slap.

Mikasa stares, lips parting like she’s going to say something—but she doesn’t. Because what can she say?

Nothing she says will change the fact that she took this from you.

And for the first time ever, you can see it in her face.

She knows it too. But she won’t back down. Not when everyone’s watching.

Her voice trembles when she says, “That’s not my fault. You think I don’t work hard for everything I’ve got?”

But you laugh. It’s bitter, sharp, cutting. “You don’t have to work as hard as me, Mikasa. You never did.”

“Don’t make this about me!” Her voice rises, frustration cracking through. “I didn’t ask for your shitty family life!”

Your chest burns.

You’re done biting your tongue.

“Maybe you didn’t,” you spit, “but you sure as hell flaunt it. Maybe you should try living in the real world for once.”

You turn, because if you look at her for one more second, you might just lose it.

But it’s too late. You’re already unraveling. The words keep spilling out, and you can’t stop them now.

“You have everything, Mikasa. A mother and father who care about you. A future. I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing. I just wanna be something more.”

There’s a pause. Just long enough for you to feel the weight of your words settling between you.

Mikasa’s eyes glisten. She takes a step back. “I never meant to hurt you, okay? I don’t—”

Then you bring up something that makes her blood run cold.

“I know it was you. You were the one who spread those fucking rumors about me.”

She freezes.

Her mouth parts but she doesn’t deny it.

Her silence is confirmation enough.

Your stomach twists.

You already knew. You always knew. But hearing it like this? Watching her stand there, caught?

It’s infuriating.

“I was in a dark place,” she says finally, eyes teary, voice pleading.

But that just makes you laugh.

“Don’t give me those fucking tears. That’s not a fucking excuse.” You take a step closer. “You were in a dark place?! What could possibly put your perfect life in a dark place? Please, Mikasa, fucking enlighten me.”

She swallows. “I don’t know! Everyone fucking likes you! You don’t even have anything!”

You still.

Your breath catches, before you bark out a laugh.

“That’s not an excuse to be a raging cunt.” Your eyes flicker over her, disgust curling in your stomach. “You are a spoiled, entitled, selfish brat.”

And then, before you even realize it, you say it.

“That’s why your fucking boyfriend—”

Silence.

Your heart stops.

Mikasa’s eyes go wide.

And when you glance around, everyone’s watching.

Jean. Armin. Connie. Sasha.

Eren.

Your stomach plummets.

You almost finished that sentence. Almost.

Before you could do anymore damage, you walk away.

–

He finds you at the edge of the trail.

The same place where he had you up against a tree last night, fucking you like you belonged to him.

You don’t even look at him when he sits beside you.

His hand grazes your back.

And you shrug him off.

“We can’t hide this shit forever,” he says finally, voice low.

You let out a breath. “There’s no ‘we,’ Eren. She’s your fucking girlfriend.”

“Don’t give me that shit.”

“Fuck off, Eren.” Your voice is exhausted. “If you came here to fight with me, get the hell out of here.”

His head tilts. “You talk so much about Mikasa being a raging cunt, but so the fuck are you.”

You turn to him, eyes flashing.

“At least I have my reasons,” you snap. “How would you understand? You’re just like her.”

That fucking gets him.

Eren stands, his chest heavy with the weight of everything that just happened. He doesn’t look back as he walks away from you, his footsteps quick and determined, like he’s fleeing from the consequences of his own actions.

When he finally reaches the campsite, Mikasa is waiting. Her eyes are wide, frantic, a twisted mix of confusion and rage. The moment he steps into view, she pounces on him, her voice sharp with accusation.

“Where the hell have you been? Why were you with her, Eren? I’m your fucking girlfriend. Why the hell aren’t you comforting me?” she snaps, eyes blazing, breath coming in quick bursts.

Eren doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down. He stands there, silent for a moment, the weight of what’s coming crashing down on him.

“I don’t love you,” he says, voice low but filled with finality. “I don’t think I even like you anymore.”

Mikasa’s face goes pale. Her eyes narrow, disbelief spreading across her features, but it doesn’t stop there. She starts piecing it together, her mind racing as she realizes what’s been happening.

“No…” Her voice trembles, cracking, but she doesn’t want to hear the truth. “You can’t—no, Eren. You’re not saying this. You can’t do this to me.”

The anger she should feel doesn’t come. Instead, it’s replaced by a seething, twisted pain that claws at her chest. But it’s not anger at him. It’s not his betrayal that makes her burn.

It’s you.

Her gaze flickers to the distance, searching for you in the crowd, the realization like a punch to the gut. There’s only one thing she can think of now, one thing that matters.

You.

“Fuck this, Eren. Fuck you. How could you? How long, huh? How long have you been fucking her behind my back?” Her voice cracks, not from sadness, but from fury.

Eren doesn’t flinch, doesn’t try to explain. He lets the silence hang heavy in the air between them, his expression closed off.

Mikasa’s panic sets in, her thoughts scattering like a thousand pieces of glass. “Tell me. How long? How long, Eren?!” she demands again, voice rising.

“Three months,” he repeats, his voice steady now, like the admission has ripped the last of the care he had for her away.

Her stomach turns. She can’t process it, can’t understand it. Her mind races, but there’s only one thing she knows for sure—you are the source of all of this.

“I’ll fucking kill her,” she mutters to herself, though the words are so cold, so full of venom, they sound like a promise.

Eren doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to.

But when you walk back into the campsite, the tension reaches its breaking point. Mikasa’s eyes flash with rage, and without a second thought, she launches at you, like a predator finally cornering its prey.

But you don’t back down. You meet her halfway, ready for the fight, your fists clenched, your heart pumping with raw emotion.

The guys scramble to separate you two, but Mikasa’s too far gone, her insults flying from her mouth like daggers. “You think you’re so special, don’t you? Always playing the victim while everything gets handed to you.”

You scoff, glaring at her. “Daddy’s money and connections don’t buy you love, sweetheart. Maybe you should try being real for once instead of hiding behind all that privilege.”

Mikasa’s face turns red with fury, her body trembling with rage. “You don’t know shit about me!” she yells, and with a final, desperate shove, she tries to break free of the guys holding her back.

But the damage is done. The words you threw at her hit their mark, and the final straw has been broken. Eren watches, torn between his loyalty to Mikasa and the bitter, gnawing pull toward you, but in the end, he knows he’s already made his choice.

And as Mikasa glares at you, the hate in her eyes burning bright, it’s clear that nothing will ever be the same.

–

Once you return to campus, you shut everyone out of your life. Mikasa, Eren, Jean—every single one of them was cut off. Jean’s absence stung the most, to be honest. If you had approached things differently, maybe things with him could’ve been something real, something meaningful. But now, you just didn’t have the energy to care.

The rumors that Mikasa had forgiven Eren and that they were "on a break" reached your ears, but honestly? You didn’t care. The whole situation had been toxic from the start, and you wanted no part of it. You needed space, and for the first time in a long while, you had it. You focused on school, threw yourself into your studies, and let the noise of the past fade into the background.

You didn’t avoid Eren, but you didn’t engage either. You saw him around campus sometimes, mostly in that hallway on the way to your English class. Every time you passed him, you could feel his eyes on you, a silent plea begging for your attention, for an explanation, but you kept walking, never giving him the satisfaction. It wasn’t like you didn’t notice him, it was just that you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. He’d made his choice, and you’d made yours.

As the months passed, you quietly accepted that life went on without him, without any of them. Your focus was on your future, and it was a future you had earned for yourself. A future that would take you far from here, far from everything that had tried to destroy you.

Switzerland.

It wasn’t just a dream anymore. It was real, and you had earned it. A different scholarship, a fresh start. You didn’t tell anyone. Not Mikasa. Not Eren. Only a brief post on social media, a congratulations from your university. But seriously, who paid attention to those?

Apparently, Eren did.

You were just about to leave that night. Your flight was at 3 a.m., and your mom was picking you up to take you to the airport. You were packing up the last of your things when you heard a knock at your dorm door. Your heart skipped, your pulse quickened as you opened it to find him standing there, his face drawn and his eyes red.

“Hey,” he said quietly, almost like he didn’t know what else to say.

“Hey,” you replied, voice soft. You didn’t know what you expected, but it wasn’t this. Him. Standing there, looking like he had the world on his shoulders.

He glanced behind you, his eyes searching, “You... leaving tonight, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, keeping your tone even. “Flight’s at 3. My mom’s taking me to the airport.”

There was a pause, thick with the weight of everything unsaid between you two. You could feel the tension in the air, like something was about to snap, but you weren’t sure if you were ready for it yet. The silence lingered, stretching between the two of you like a chasm neither of you could cross.

Finally, Eren broke it. “Can we talk?”

You hesitated, your heart a tangled mess of emotions, but after a beat, you stepped aside to let him in. You didn’t know what was going to come of this. Whether he was here to apologize, to beg, or to finally face the mess he’d left behind. But you knew one thing for sure.

You weren’t the same person anymore.

As the door clicked shut behind him, the weight of the past seemed to settle between you both.

“How long are you gone for?”

“About a year.”

Eren's eyes lingered on you for a moment, his gaze heavy, as though he were trying to process the weight of your words. The room felt smaller now, suffocating in its silence. His hands flexed at his sides, like he wanted to reach for you, to pull you back into some kind of connection, but he didn’t. He knew better, or at least, he had to.

“A year,” he repeated, his voice strained. “That’s... a long time.”

You nodded, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as if protecting yourself from whatever emotions he might try to stir up. You had spent too long building walls, too much time turning your back on everything that had hurt you. You weren't sure you could let it all come crashing down just because Eren had decided to show up now.

“Yeah,” you replied, your tone cool. “But it’s not just about the time, Eren. It’s about the opportunity. I’m not going to sit around here, stuck in the same toxic shit we’ve all been drowning in.”

Eren pulls back slightly, his hands still lingering on your waist as his eyes search yours, trying to read the unreadable. You feel it—a magnetic pull between you two, something that’s been brewing for months but never fully realized, at least not until now. His lips are so close to yours, and your heart is pounding, warning you to stop, but your body betrays you.

“I’m sorry,” Eren whispers, his breath warm against your skin. “I never meant for things to get so fucked up between us.”

You swallow hard, torn between the anger that still simmers beneath the surface and the undeniable chemistry that has always been there. His fingers trace the line of your jaw, brushing against your lips with a touch so tender it almost feels like a confession.

You know what’s coming, and part of you doesn't want to stop it. Maybe it's because this moment feels like the last chance to feel anything with him, good or bad. Maybe it's because you're both so damn tired of pretending that everything’s fine when it’s been anything but.

Eren’s face inches closer, his lips barely grazing yours as if asking for permission. And you let him, giving him the slightest tilt of your head, just enough for his lips to crush against yours in a desperate, searing kiss. It’s not soft. It’s not tender. It’s raw, filled with every unsaid word, every mistake, every broken piece that’s never been repaired.

When you finally pull away, both of you are crying.

Eren rests his forehead against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks like you’re something fragile he’s terrified to break any more than he already has. You feel the tremble in his fingers. Hear the rasp of his breathing. See the way he’s trying, trying so hard not to lose you completely.

“I’ll wait for you,” he says, voice cracking. “If you want me to. I’ll work on it, on me. On everything. I’ll be the man you deserve. Just… just give me the chance.”

You close your eyes, letting the weight of his words sink into your chest. They hurt. They heal. They tear you open.

“But if you meet someone in Switzerland,” he adds, voice barely above a whisper, “someone who makes you happy... then that’s enough for me too. I’ll be happy if you’re happy.”

The sincerity in his voice shatters something inside you.

You don’t say anything. You just pull him into you, fitting yourself against him like you always have and he clings to you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. He tucks your head beneath his chin, wraps his arms around you so tight it almost hurts, but you welcome the ache. It’s real. It’s him.

He kisses your face, your cheeks, your jaw, your lips, each press lingering longer than the last. When his mouth finally claims yours again, it’s different this time. Tender. Slow. A kiss that tastes like goodbye.

You let him touch you. Let him push you back onto your bed, hands slipping beneath your clothes, stripping you down to nothing but need. You let him take you one last time—slow, deep, desperate. You let him stay inside you longer than you should, clinging to the illusion that maybe this could last.

That night, you fall asleep wrapped up in each other’s arms, breathing in the same broken rhythm.

No guarantees.

Just two people, loving each other in the only way they know how — raw, scared, and with every shattered piece laid bare between them.

–

The sheets are cold when you wake.

An hour had passed. It’s time to leave.

The faint smell of him still lingers, sandalwood, something clean and worn, but Eren’s gone. No note. No goodbye. Just the imprint of his body on the mattress and the sharp ache settling deep in your ribs.

For a moment, you just sit there, clutching the blanket to your chest, trying to convince yourself it doesn’t matter. That this is easier. Cleaner. No teary farewell. No begging each other to stay. Just a silent ending to a story that was never supposed to last.

But it does matter.

Of course it fucking matters.

You drag yourself out of bed, moving on autopilot as you gather your things. Every minute ticking by feels louder, heavier, dragging you toward something you’re not ready for. Your chest tightens when you spot the hoodie he gave you last night crumpled on the floor. For a second, a stupid second, you almost pick it up. Almost tuck it into your bag like a lifeline. But you don’t. You leave it there, like he left you.

–

Switzerland is supposed to be a fresh start. A clean break.

But no matter how far you run, you can’t outrun him.

It starts small. A little fatigue, a little nausea. You blame it on the stress, the traveling, the way you haven’t been eating properly since you left. But then the sickness lingers, creeping in every morning like clockwork.

And that nagging thought in the back of your mind, the one you’ve been ignoring, the one you don’t want to acknowledge.

Until you have no choice.

So now you’re here, sitting on the cold tile floor of a tiny apartment bathroom, staring down at two pink lines that might as well be a death sentence.

Your breath shudders. Your stomach twists.

Pregnant.

Your fingers grip the test so tight, your knuckles turn white.

No. No, this—this can’t be real. You were careful. It was only one night. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

But the proof is right there in your hands.

And just like that, the world tilts on its axis.

Because no matter how hard you tried to leave Eren behind, he never really left you at all.

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