nanaminsmoon

[nanaminsmoon]

OMG OMG ONG ONG ONG OMG OMG!!! Ur back????? omgggg welcome backkkkkkkkkkkkkkk ive missed u so much lmao.

the reason why it’s 27 or 28. Is because that’s the last time you made a post before going inactive. 27/01. or any date after that like 28-29 would remind me of 27 and then I’d be like oh I should go check if she came back.

I’m so excited that ur back, hope you’ve been well.

ahhh okay that makes sense!! i didn't even remember the last time i posted so i'm honoured that you did.😭😭

i have been veryyy well but i wouldn't say that i'm back, purely because i'm not sure how consistent i can be...but i posted because of you so thank you for all your sweet messages.🫶🏽🫶🏽

p.s. you didn't ask but my riize biases are sungchan and anton (and sohee too lowkey)🫶🏽🫶🏽

[nanaminsmoon]

well that was fun, see y'all next year i guess😁

[nanaminsmoon]

subby!eren x reader. - e.jaegar. 18+. mdni.

a/n: fun fact, actually really sad fact but i wrote this to post it on valentine's day...last year. so just think of this as me clearing stock because this was collecting dust for a whole year and it's the only complete fic i have lol. and thanks to @dewbidiseu for making want to post again:))

wc: 2047 + lazily proofread because i hate reading my work.

thinking about eren’s anniversary gift to you being to let you do whatever you want to him. his generosity would land him on a dining chair in your shared apartment, legs wide spread with his hands out of sight. they’d be tightly bound, wrists held together by the pink tie he had worn with his suit—its colour matching your dress. enthused eyes would affix themselves to the emerald lace hugging your torso, their indecision evident in their fast and aimless movements. looking at you, eren didn’t know how to feel. because, on one hand, warmth spread through his chest at the kind gesture of his girlfriend matching her lingerie with the feature of his that she liked most. yet, his dick pulsated at the sight of the exposed parts of you that you knew he wanted to taste most. a harsh gulp would have his adam’s apple bobbing as he watched you saunter towards him, your pupils fixated on the burning tips of his ears that his hair couldn’t cover. out of his eyeline, the restraints on his hands were no longer a concern, and eren’s main focus had become the wetness permeating the trouser material on his thigh once you sat on it. in a silent expression of their owner’s frustration, eren’s hands would fidget before relaxing at the feeling of your lips meeting the shell of his ear.

that frustration would soon resurrect as a feverishly desperate mutation of what it once was, covering eren’s torso in a dusty pink colour. it’d flush all over him, only worsening with every new place your lips reached. after wrapping themselves around his lobe, they’d explored the side of his neck without a single regard for the desirous whines they were leading out of the corners of eren’s mouth. they’d weave a web of burst blood vessels over his torso, lipstick marks being a placeholder for the places they couldn’t reach. and all eren could do was sit there and take it while his vision blurred and his pocket square absorbed whatever his crooning mouth couldn't contain—both in noise and saliva. light pink cotton would choke him when your finger hooked itself on the scarlet rope pressing indents into his skin and contracting muscles. for eren, breath regulation seemed a distant mirage, appearing once you pulled away from him, only to fade to vanish once you did something else. like when you suddenly started moving on his thigh in that way you knew drove him insane; head thrown back as you moaned his name into the air and he grappled for his sanity. freedom was at the tips of his fingers. eren knew that. he could move and remove your makeshift gag anytime he wanted to. but he didn’t want to. though he could barely support his head, because of your languid actions on his skin, your moving on his thighs, as well as your hand on his dick. a part of him he’d never indulged before didn’t want it to end. no matter how agonised he looked. it was all too much; the nips on his flesh, the feel and sounds you made as you rode his thigh, and the stimulation to his dick through his dress trousers.

“you okay, ‘ren?”, you pouted, and he'd look up to meet his glossy green eyes with yours. you'd see his features lift to reveal a smile as he nodded blearily. you'd pull back from him, a hand would rest planted on his dick, while the other hand grabbed his face to examine his features; cheeks rouged, long brown eyelashes sticking together as he blinked, and eyebrows scrunched. a light tug on the sanguine rope was enough to have his hips raising, the tent in his slacks begging for attention, and you'd take out the pocket square from his mouth.

“i wan—i need more, y/n”, he'd say breathily, “give me more. please”, that last ‘please’ was broken up, as his voice box just gave up on him. you'd pout at him again, tilting your head,

“you sure you can take it, ‘renny?”, you'd ask, and he'd nod fervently.

“i can take it, just…put it in your mouth”, he'd look down at the wet patch on his boxers—liquids wetting it from both beneath and above the fabric. embarrassment painted his features, but his pride was dead and buried, and he needed you to revive it. his covered bulge sat at the opening of his zip, and you'd follow his shift in gaze, and smile at him slyly. his legs would move together in a futile attempt to hide the tent between his legs. he felt so embarrassed that he was this easy, but he'd still bite his lips gently at the thought.

your hand would move from his chin to his cheek and he’d gently lean into your touch—the warmth of your hand being a slight bit of solace. he was pliant in the palm of your hands, melting into it. and any ounce of domination in him disintegrated,

“i’ve been so good f’r you, y/n. please, i’m about to lose my mind”, he’d plead, laboured words leaving his mouth in quick succession. the leg you weren’t sat on rapidly moved—his need travelling throughout him. and since you were still palming his dick, the movement of his leg provided him with enough friction to make him sandwich his lip between his teeth as he just fucked up into your hand. his teeth would release his lip, allowing him to let whatever he had left of his voice out of his mouth, mainly in quiet curses and whines. you’d watch him for a few seconds; mouth agape, and his hips moving back and forth on the chair as he pushed his dick into your palm. for his sanity, you’d stop him and take his dick out of his boxers, making sure to observe the way it leaked precum. the pad of your thumb would spread it over his tip, and the green pupils glued to you would vanish for a second as his eyes closed. mainly because it felt good, but also because he felt pathetic, he never knew he could want you this badly and abashment washed over him at the thought of facing you directly. an electric shudder flew through him when you licked a stripe under his shaft. and it’d be recurring as you placed delicate kisses on his tip,

“y/n, stop t-teasing and just put it innnggffuck”, his sentence would be interrupted by the wetness of your mouth surrounding his tip. with how sensitive his dick felt with you ‘accidentally’ brushing yourself against it all night, as well as everything else that had happened, that action felt like spraying an extinguisher on a burning building. but the tip would be the only place in your mouth for a few minutes, much to eren’s dismay. but you’d soon put more of him in your mouth. but eren was impatient so, after making the dumb decision to let his body control him as opposed to his mind, his hips would buck up so his tip hit the back of your throat. the sudden movement would cause you to gag around him, and just that one action had him shooting ropes of cum; splatters of it on your face, and chest.

once his release drowned him in pleasure, it’d also rid him of his sense; sight blurred and hazed, ears clogged, and skin feeling like it was tv static. he’d notice you’d gone silent and open his eyes to see a pout on your face. he’d gathered it was because of his nut on you. and once that realisation settled over him, he’d realise that, if you were anything like him, he’d feel the consequences of it. but he’d still look up at you remorsefully,

“i”, he sighed, “’m so, so sorry”, he spoke breathily, and you’d look down at the mess and pout at it. in this state of mind, eren was so unlike himself. usually, eren was in charge because he knew that if he relinquished control, then you’d know how easy he was. but today was different, and he didn’t have enough coherency to feel otherwise.

“you’re so messy, eren”, you tsked, “could you clean it for me?”, you hummed, and he’d look at you, post-nut clarity would make him hesitate but something in him would make him lean forward and lick a strip of it off you.

“untie me now, i wanna touch you”, he ordered, dishevelled. you wondered if you’d feel the repercussions of your actions, but you’d get rid of the rope—the tie was tied pretty loosely. so he could escape it pretty quickly. and he did. he’d wriggle out of it, and start grabbing at you—breathing heavy as he kissed your skin while inhaling your scent deeply.

despite all his previous contentions, eren had been wrong; he couldn't take it. taking it felt so good, but it made him feel dirty and wrong. a slight bit of shame fell over him at the fact that he loved you taking such good care of him, making him feel good until his dick started feeling raw. he hated that he loved the pain of being overstimulated, he felt like he’d blanked out and his body was just working on its own; pulling you down on him, making you ride him. deep whines would leave eren's mouth as you bounced on him, his voice grainy and running out as he swore and groaned underneath you. he had come so many times, he was shooting blanks. there was nut on his thighs, stomach, hands and you. even though he could freely touch you and say whatever he wanted, eren was just moaning—nothing else threatening to leave his mouth. his grip on your hips was tight, his fingers were cramping and he was delirious. eren didn't know how long he had been sitting there, or what time it was but he did know he was about to cum again,

“y/n, wait”, he'd say, holding you still. he’d start you pull you up off him, but you’d stop him. his eyes would meet yours, and you’d slowly slide back down on him.

“you wanted to be impatient, eren,”, you stroked stray hairs from his face, “so take it”, you'd retort, kissing his cheek. that was a comment you had heard too many times from eren; he’d make you beg for him, then tell you to take him when you told him it was too much. and, until today, pride had pursed his lips whenever he even dared to try and confess how tight your leash around his neck was. but seeing him like this—upper half sweaty and rouged, while his lower half relentlessly pursued your touch—it was more than obvious. yet still, those small meek tinges of his domineering nature would rear their heads,

“fuck you”, his voice was small yet defensive, but once he realised you were really about to ride him through this nut, he conceded very quickly.

“i meant sorry—shit—i’m sorry”, he apologised, small tear drops flowing down his face. having never been overstimulated to the point of tears, eren never even knew such a thing was possible for him. and, once he caught his breath and reconfigured his mind, he’d readjust to his surroundings and take in all that had just been uncovered: eren was malleable before you. ready to be whatever, and whoever, you wanted him to be so long as you kept him feeling good.

Product of nanaminsmooninc™ 2025. All rights reserved. You may not copy, reproduce, or modify works without permission.

[nanaminsmoon]

omg it's been so long i forgot how i used to do the layout for posts??? like how did i do my banners and titles like that????

[nanaminsmoon]

Actors on Actors | Toji Fushiguro

pairing: actor! toji x actress! reader

genre: interview style, slightly suggestive on toji's part

note: ah shit here we go again

📊 Video Stats

10M views | 350K likes | 40K comments

Convincing Toji to do this interview was as hard as his team had expected. 

The man was extremely private, always giving short answers on red carpets but they were more than enough to feed his fans. Coupled with a confident smirk of his and a proud display of the scar on his lip, the man knew he had people swooning for him. 

However, he wasn’t fond of interviews. It was evident in the way he leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, a bored look on his face and only answering when the question pertains to his character only. 

Other than that, you couldn’t get a single word out of this man.

When you heard that you were invited to be on an episode of Actors on Actors, you were both excited and nervous. Talking about yourself wasn’t your favorite thing in the world, but you loved getting to know other people in the industry and bonding with them over shared experiences.

What you don’t expect is to read Toji’s name on the paper. 

“Toji?” you turn to your manager with a look of disbelief on your face. “Fushiguro Toji?”

Your manager gives you an apologetic look. She could see the anxiety brewing inside of you, and you have to place a hand over your heart to calm your nerves. 

Talking to that man was the equivalent of talking to a brick wall. There was no way this was going to be a good interview—and who thought of pairing the two of you together?

The tall, broad shouldered man sits in his changing room with the same paper in hand as his eyes land on his name. His makeup artist catches the glimpse of a smirk on his face before Toji turns to his manager.

“That’s the pretty one, right?”

His manager chuckles before placing a hand on Toji’s shoulder. “The one and only.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

The interview is off to an awkward start. At least from your part. 

You feel small under the gaze of such an intimidating man, putting a leg over the other and pulling down the hem of your short dress to hide as much of you as possible. That doesn’t stop Toji’s shameless gawking as the two of you shake hands.

“I’m (Name), nice to meet you.”

“‘course I know who you are,” the words roll of his tongue smoothly and he watches as you purse your lips, dropping your gaze. “Fushiguro Toji”

“Very pleased to meet you.” You finally let go of his hand but you could’ve sworn that his hand lingered on top of yours a bit longer. 

When neither of you decide to speak up first, you let out a nervous chuckle while Toji turns to the filming crew with a playful smirk.

“This is fun,”

“I mean…” you trail off, smoothening the fabric of your dress. Again, his eyes land on your thigh and clear your throat.

“I’m…a really huge fan of your work.” your voice is small as you confess your admiration for his work in the industry. “I’m always amazed by your ability to get into character so quickly.”

“Watched some behind the scene footage?”

You were caught.

“Maybe…I mean it’s there!” You laugh and fortunately for you, Toji does as well as he nods. 

“Sure it is. I could say the same about you—” he gestures towards you with a genuine smile. “Great work, it’s rare to see someone so passionate in the industry nowadays.”

“Oh,” you wave your hands. “It’s-it’s nothing, I just really love acting.”

Toji braces himself forward with his elbows on his knees. “How old were you when you thought of giving it a try?” 

Your back straightens up under his gaze and you avoid his eyes as you think of a response. “I was about 6 or 7 when my parents would pull out a camera during Christmas and record me recreating scenes from movies like The Wizard of Oz and The Shining.”

“The Shining?”

“I was a weird kid,” you laugh when you see the look of shock painting his features. “But yeah these two were my favorite movies of all time.”

“That’s interesting, cause in a way I can see you getting into movies like that at a young age.” 

“Really?” 

Toji really likes the glint in your eyes. 

“Mhm,” he nods as he leans back in his armchair. “Like I said I’ve seen some of your work and–” he raises his hands. “I’m a fan.”

You drop your head shyly, silently thanking him for the amount of compliments he was throwing your way. This was honestly going better than you expected, but you knew it was time to ask him questions. 

“Can I just say,” you gesture towards the man. “Your recent work absolutely blew my mind—I mean, the entire movie was just amazing but your role. Wow, just wow.” 

Toji bows down his head when you clap for him, chuckling when you go the extra mile by pretending to bow down for him. 

“That role, was it difficult to get into such a state of mind? I’ve seen many actors—including myself, who needed a much needed break from everything after a certain role. Was it the same for you or were you able to detach yourself from the role easily?”

Toji gives it a thought, taking in the fact that you had crafted this question so carefully unlike any other interview he’s ever been on before. 

“After we finished shooting, I cut off contact with most of the world for about three months straight. I moved out of my neighborhood and into an area where it was just me, the mountains and the sound of birds.”

 Toji proceeds to explain how the role was mentally taxing, how the idea of going back and doing promo for the movie seemed like a huge roadblock he needed to get over. But after lots of therapy and some much needed time off, he was able to get back on his feet. 

“I’m glad that you feel better now, the industry needs good actors like you.” You admit and Toji leans back in his armchair again with a knowing smirk.

“I could say the same about you.”

The interview proceeds smoothly, with the two of you asking each other questions back and forth. After fifty minutes, the interview comes to an end and you get up to share a well deserved goodbye hug. 

However, Toji’s arms linger a little longer around your waist and he whispers something in your ear that’s facing away from the camera.

“You look good by the way.”

Guys, the mics are still on!

🗨️ Top Comments

💬 [somethingsgottagive]: DID YALL SEE THAT (6k likes)

💬 [somuchtosay]: this entire interview is just toji flirting with her im losing my mind (5k likes)

💬 [onehastogo]: ive never seen him this down bad omg??? (7,3K likes)

💬 [theboyismine]: this is the most talkative ive ever seen toji am i sensing smth (1.8K likes)

💬  [sweetnsourchicken] replied to  [theboyismine]: THAT HUG???

💬 [alltheavocadoes]: THE THING HE WHISPERED???(923 likes)

💬 [albumoftheyear]: oh the internet is on FIRE (508 likes)

💬 [cmontryme]: someone check on me ive shipped them for the longest time (392 likes)

💬  [sweetnsourchicken] replied to  [cmontryme]: without a single interaction is crazy

💬 [cmontryme] replied to [sweetnsourchicken]: i’m crazy

2025 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[nanaminsmoon]

Gojo (Name) & Gojo Satoru Take A Couple’s Quiz | GQ

pairing: actor! satoru x singer! fem! reader

genre: fluff, slightly suggestive towards the end.

note: its been a whiiiile

📊 Video Stats

12M views | 200K likes | 35K comments

The set that your team had picked for this specific interview had a welcoming vibe to it. A living room set up, with a long creamy beige couch and matching armchairs facing one another. Separating the two was a round dark wooden table, with beautiful pink, yellow and white tulips threatening to spill out of their vase. 

Before the camera starts rolling, you sit on one of the chairs whilst another person shuffles to take a seat on the other. 

No pressure, just have fun

“Hi, I’m (Name),” you lean back in your seat, waving at the camera.

“And I’m Satoru,” the tall white haired man casts you a knowing look, and then you both speak.

“This is the GQ’s Couple’s Quiz.”

One would debate whether or not the latest single from an artist is their Hit song, or if the upcoming movie of a certain actor will have a good roll-out with all the promotion it was getting. But if there was anything the industry agreed on, it was the fact that you and Satoru were THE it couple.

Not just of the year, or the previous or even three years prior—you have been together for more than a decade, and the fact that you kept most of your relationship off the spotlight meant that this interview was a big deal to both of your fans.

Whilst Satoru was a famous, well respected actor in the industry who started out at a very young age, you had chosen singing as your career path. The two occupations rarely ever came together unless it was for fashion week or any other major event like the Oscars or the Met Gala. However, you were very proud to admit that you met your husband under adorable circumstances. 

“Who should start?” You grab the cards from the round table and your husband gestures towards you with his left hand, making sure to flash his wedding ring at the camera.

“After you madame,” he makes an exaggerated bow and you snort. 

“Oh wow, what a gentleman.” You say jokingly and he grins as he leans back in his seat.

You shuffle through the cards, deciding which question to go for first. You trusted your husband, you knew that there wasn’t anything he didn’t know about you. But it was fun to test his knowledge once in a while.

“Oh this is a good question,” you clear your throat. “Dear husband, how old was I when I knew that I wanted to be a singer.”

The white haired male answers almost immediately.

“4 years old.” 

You giggle as you clap your hands. “Good job! You’ll get an extra point if you say which song I sang that made me fall in love with singing.” 

Satoru pretends to be stretching, looking around the filming crew with a raised eyebrow. “Y’all see that? She’s making up her own rules as we go.” 

And the crew laughs when you gasp, hitting him lightly with your cards. “Just answer! I’m giving you extra points.”

“I have nothing by Whitney Houston.” He says without missing a beat before covering his mouth and mumbling to the camera. “A little too ambitious, might I add.” 

“Satoru!”

The two of you share a laugh and Satoru raises his hands to show that he surrenders, grabbing the back of your hand to kiss it. “Just kidding, you sound amazing.”

A decade and two kids later, the man still makes you blush like a highschooler. 

“Okay, next question—oh I like this one!” You turn to the GQ team with a big smile. “You guys really took into consideration all of my questions.”

“And I’ll get it right this time.”

“We’ll see about that,” 

Satoru sees the glint in your eyes and for a split second, his eyes land on your lips before locking with yours again. 

“What outfit was I wearing when we first met?” You hide your face with the question cards, kicking your feet slightly as you watch the wheels in his head turn. 

“Wait–”

“I knew you wouldn’t remember!” 

“I do!” Satoru quickly jumps to defend himself. “Ugh, I’m just hesitant about the colors because it was literally sunset.” 

It was sunset when you first met?

The two of you quickly realize Satoru’s slip, but neither of you is upset about it. All you do is nod before Satoru reaches towards you, grabbing your knee.

“This woman right here–”

“Satoru,” you warn him, but it’s harmless. You’re not actually angry, but you are wondering if it was actually time to share such a significant detail about your story together.

“Stood right in front of the sunset while I was trying to take a picture.” He squeezes your knee as he continues. “At first I was a little annoyed and half wondering ‘who the hell is that?’ and the other half recognized her.” 

You hide your hot face with the cards. 

“Then when I went to look at the picture I took, it was literally magical. She turned around when I said ‘excuse me?’ and my camera had caught the exact moment when she turned her head.”

A synchronized “awwww” echoed through the studio as you tried to calm your beating heart.

And you just happened to be on vacation together?

“Yeah, we didn’t even know. We only found out because of that picture.”

“And the rest is history,” your left hand, adorned with a gorgeous wedding ring, slowly finds his and you squeeze it. 

After a couple of questions, it’s time for Satoru to be the one quizzing you. And he seems to be very excited about it.

“Alright,” he fixes the cards on his lap with a wide grin, casting you a knowing look. “You know what time it is.”

“It’s quiz timeee,” you say half enthusiastically and Satoru throws his head back as he laughs. 

“You don’t sound excited at all!”

“I am! I just want to win!”

Satoru smirks before shuffling through the cards. “And maybe you will,” 

“Please, you’re so competitive you don’t let your own sons win.”

The filming crew share a laugh and Satoru pretends to be offended as he places a hand on his chest. “Accusations!”

“Yeah yeah,” you wave your hands at him. “Go ahead.”

“Alright question number one,” he holds the card up to his face before clearing his throat. “I have always known that I wanted to be an actor, what was my very first project eve–”

“Jujutsu middle school art class project!” You answer loudly, almost jumping off your seat. “You were 12, had just purchased a camera and your teacher asked you to film something that inspired you. He didn’t expect you to include yourself acting in the video, and you ended up using it as your auditioning tape for your first official project ever.” 

You give such a detailed answer that Satoru can’t help but lean in and kiss you all over your face while you squeal.

“My wife ladies and gentlemen,”

“You’re so cheesy,” you laugh as he leans back in his seat.

“Next question!” He shuffles through the cards again before finally landing on a good question. “What is my favorite album of yours?”

“Oh god,” you cover your face with your hands. “I know the answer, but it feels almost self-centered to bring up my music into this.”

Your husband lightly smacks your head with the cards and you chuckle lightly. “I know it’s my third studio album.”

He points towards the camera with a knowing grin. “Tell the audience why.”

And at first you hesitate, your face getting hotter and your hands clammy and sweaty. But eventually you give in with a nervous giggle. “..because you were in the studio with me when I was writing most of the songs.”

Your husband claps his hands, smirking at the camera knowingly. “If you know, you know.”

“You’re unbelievable!” 

🗨️ Top Comments

💬 [satoruthestrongest]: GET A ROOOOOOM  (2.3K likes)

💬 [somuchtosay]: time to relisten to the album…if you know what I mean  (5k likes)

💬 [onehastogo]: I literally felt like I was thirdwheeling the entire time  (7,3K likes) 💬 [(name)ntoru]: I have never in my life been so invested in a couple’s healthy relationship like theirs (1.8K likes)

💬  [sweetnsourchicken] replied to  [(name)ntoru]: me too its actually concerning

💬 [alltheavocadoes]: the way she scolds him but he makes her nervous at the same time????(923 likes) 💬 [albumoftheyear]: satoru looks like he’s plotting baby number 3 with those looks (508 likes) 💬 [cmontryme]: the only couple ever  (392 likes)

2025 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[nanaminsmoon]

is you back???????

i honestly just opened the app to see what had gone on since i was gone but now it has made me want to start writing again lol but it's been like a year since i last wrote a fic so i don't know if i even have it in me to write like that anymore🧍🏽‍♀️

[nanaminsmoon]

yk I feel like I’m borderline insane. like any number association with 27 or 28 reminds me of you. Like the same way I see 1:27 and the clock before I used to only associate it with nct but now it’s also you I need help fr PLSSSSSS COME BACKKK POOKIE I NEED YOU TOBTELL ME WHETHER OR NOT IM ACTUALLY SANE. no actually on a serious note, are you on a path to bettering yourself cuz like i should do that too, cuz ever since i locked in and left tumblr for like a month i started to become more human lmaoookk but anyways think ill stop doing this as much as I actually love sending these messages i feel like once you open them up in your inbox and you see as a frequent notification i feel like you’ll immediately be like okayyy weirdo and then proceed to block me. but anyways happy what? Four months? Damnnnn, you’re definitely in a relationship w yourself and I’m all for that. Hopefully when you come back you can tell whether or not the these asks i send you are an ok thing.

Until then, bye lu !!

Why 27 and 28?

[nanaminsmoon]

Once I stop being lazy, and get over this writer's block, I really really want to write a subby!eren or subby!gojo fic!! But I'm vvv inconsistent at the moment so who knows when that'll be...anyways, mwah bye💋

[nanaminsmoon]

busy boy. - a. arlet.(mdni.18+)

a/n: i haven't written smut in a minute y'all so bear with me lol.

wc: 3000+ & lazily proofread.

armin never thought he’d see the day that his every limb would be consumed by the guilt spawned in his chest by the sight of his hands and your golden ‘eren’ necklace fighting for a spot on your bare chest. small tinges of the sickly feeling deformed every cell in his body, as he had you on his bed with your face buried in his pillow and your ass cheek meeting his open palm.

“eren stretch you out like this?”, armin asked against the skin at the top of your back and, fucked out beyond measure, all you could do was shake your head against the pillows. remorse wasn’t a concern for either of you; any loyalty to eren riding the stream spilling out of your eyes, to leave your body and sink into the armin-scented textile pushing against your cheek.

you had expected nothing from armin; he was an unassuming suburban boy, raised by a wealthy grandfather who was loved by everybody in his community, and had instilled immovable morals in his grandson. the first, on a long list of many, being extreme loyalty—a value you wouldn’t have guessed he held so dear to his heart with how fast he let you in after seeing your pretty face on his gate camera. that was because the former was the armin he allowed to leave the confines of his home. and in reality, behind a tightly shut titanium door, was the armin that wanted nothing more than to fuck his best friend’s girlfriend senseless.

that fact unbeknownst to you, walking into it, you felt that expecting armin to bend his personal ethos for the sake of your retribution was self-serving at best, and asinine at worst, but you’d still given it a try. because the chances of your plan backfiring may have been high, but your dignity would not allow for anything else. and receiving a text that was evidently meant for someone else meant that you wanted to hurt eren in a way you knew would cut deep, and rid him of any trust he held in anyone. if he wanted to fuck around, then you’d do him the honour of helping him find out.

as the gate slowly opened, anxiety would inflate and deflate your lungs raggedly as you let go of a very deep breath. though your brain was void of any thought, your body would work for you—moving your legs to walk through his gate once there was enough space to do so. then your path to armin’s front door would be illuminated by the light casting a shadow around the figure stood in the doorway, watching you with their hands in their pockets. judging by the frame, you knew it had to be armin. and that’s when your anxiety increased tenfold.

the surprise brought by you pushing past him so suddenly twisted armin’s lips, making the corners of his mouth rigid. cerulean curiosity would begin a journey; starting at your choice of clothing—a dress unfit for the cold spring night air—before moving down to your legs. smooth brown skin was covered by a translucent façade of comfortability that, judging by the light convulses in your upper body, was not doing much to keep you warm. every intricate detail drew the conclusion that your hasty actions were a consequence of the, less than kind, weather conditions. but that conclusion was made before the scorching words brewing within you, travelled at lightening speed to leave your mouth,

“fuck me”. those two searing syllables rolled off your tongue, sweeping the space separating the both of you—their intensity causing armin to blink dramatically. and the thud caused by the closure of the heavy door would be the only thing to fill the deafening silence.

“huh?”, was all armin could gather amongst the heap of his scattered thoughts flooding the ground beneath his laden feet. but yours would move towards him, cautiously; three steps in his direction would be the extent of your movements towards armin, before you took your coat off—noticing the way he watched you narrowly—and casually let it drop to the ground.

wool lined slippers left the wooden floor, to meet it again, as your advances had armin retreating. one step backward would be the extent of his withdrawals—his limbs frozen by the way you moved towards him in a sensuous slink. not one thought of what to do next came into armin’s head, even as your arms rose—forearms delicately resting on his shoulders and impatient digits entangling themselves in his golden locks, each carrying their own portion of your ulterior motive.

“i said, fuck me, armin”, you reiterated, and words had never carried a physical weight until that moment. their gravity overtook the presence of that already in the air, forcefully pulling him into the ground.

“eren set you up to do this?”, armin asked, his question accompanied by a harsh swallow of whatever he could gather in his dry mouth. tawny lashes flittered longer than they should have at the foreign warmth sat at his nape, before armin grew irritated at their obstruction of his view; your face, the closest it’d ever been to his, with its features firm at the sound of your boyfriend’s name. your fingernails would cease their gentle scratches on armin’s neck, and you’d let out a heavy sigh,

“nah, he's too busy fucking other girls to do that”, you commented, sarcastically. but that one comment would be all it took to clarify your intentions to armin, and the dismay that realisation birthed made his stomach turn.

“so this is your getback? fucking his childhood friend?”, he scoffed in disbelief, mixed with anger. the usually cheerful visage of the blonde boy disfigured into something that made you lower your head; his evident disappointment drowning you in shame.

armin could vividly remember the acidic stinging in his throat when the pretty girl at mikasa’s birthday party introduced herself as eren’s girlfriend. any glimpse he had caught of you, before that, had inspired paragraphs of rehearsed lines he had prepared to ask you on a date. but his best friend’s protective arm around your waist had sent all his preparations falling to his feet. but now, they were all resurfacing and ascending very quickly—leaving his skin blushed and blazing in their wake. the sudden increase in his blood flow all migrated to one place. and, for the first time in all the years he had known eren, armin’s loyalties dissipated and anything holding him back evaporated; leaving behind a desperate man with the only woman he wants right in front of him.

“i don't know if you're brazen, or just a slut”, he said quietly. that last word would surprise you more than it offended you. and, though your vision was zeroed in on the floor, armin could see a slight head tilt of confusion present itself. so he'd place two fingers under your chin, forcing you to face him,

“you're not a slut, are you baby?”, his eyebrows would furrow in feigned concern, as he mirrored your shaking head, “no~, you're not. you're just a very needy girl”, he'd say to you, laughing when your features scrunched in rejection of his statement. albeit far too late, the voice of reason in your head began contesting your previous decisions. the lascivious hands embracing your waist to pull you into the body of the man in front of you had you questioning every thought process that had gotten you to this point.

“the fuck are you doing?”, you asked, moving back. but the hands on your waist would move to the bottom of your spine, to bring you even closer to armin than you were before.

“you said you wanted to fuck, so we’re gonna go upstairs and fuck.”, he answered, kissing the exposed skin on your arms and shoulders. the salacious sounds resounding from just below your ear, mixed with the feel of his wet lips on your skin made you pulsate underneath your underwear, as you let out a deep breath.

it was obvious that your want for him was surface level; shallow, and just a reactionary course of action. but armin’s was the exact opposite. he could feel his affections for you buzzing throughout him; first growing aflame in his heart, before every pump of the muscle distributed them throughout his entire central nervous system. that funny feeling, he couldn’t quite ascertain, circulated throughout him—making his palms and fingertips fuzzy as they gently smoothed over your skin. the moment an explorative hand up your mini dress had discovered the wetness at the front of your underwear, armin had metamorphosed into anticipation incarnate; the thought of drowning himself in your arousal tightening his already taut boxers. yet, despite this, he peeled your dress off you at an agonising pace—practically pausing after every square inch to exhale, as he slowly stroked himself through his pyjama bottoms.

“fuck”, lowly slid out of his mouth. with the way he was acting, it was laughable to think this was the man who had called you ‘needy’ not too long ago. because armin was anguished in front of you.

“you good, arlet?”, you teasingly asked—the sweet taste of your gloss dancing on your tastebuds, as a portion of your bottom lip found itself sucked into your mouth. the rest caught the minimal light from the lamp on armin’s bedside table. cerulean orbs scrutinised the shimmer that wasn’t sandwiched between your teeth, his tongue simulating different variations of how your lips would taste. his hands would take on the responsibilities of his transfixed eyes; traversing your bare body, fingertips feather-light as they did so. and his busy hands left his hardened bulge far too lonely for your liking. so your hand would pay it company—stroking at it gently. and only then would armin’s eyes break away from you, quickly shutting before his head tilted to rest on his shoulder.

“shit.”

once his head raised again, armin’s eyes would be greeted by your provocative ones; coquettishly looking at him as if to taunt him. it was as if you knew of his thinning resolve, and how easily he’d yield to you. as if you knew one look would be all it took for him to lay you flat on your back, your legs elevated by his hands; his palms flat against your thighs, as his lips pecked the insides of them. and, unlike your boyfriend, armin took his time: he languidly made his way to your core, humming against the wet patch on your underwear as he kissed it. the thin barrier between the blonde and the consequences of his actions would be gently pushed aside, exposing your wetness to the gentle breeze blowing into the room through armin’s open window. the only solace provided to you was armin’s delicate lips moving to peck your bundle of nerves, before it was sucked into his mouth. it’d shortly be joined by his tongue; the muscle swirling around it as ungodly noises left both of your mouths. after a few moments, the fabric under his fingers would become annoying, so you’d be hazily lifting your hips so he could slide it off you, spreading your legs wide open as soon as he did.

admittedly, eren ate your pussy well but, for him, it was merely just a means to an end. but you were armin’s end. you were his beginning, as well as his ruin, and the reason why the heavens had given him tastebuds. the nth time his eyes explored their sockets that night would follow his tongue licking one strip from your hole to your clit, and that motion would be all it’d take for armin to taste liquid insanity. once he had, his sole objective became to ravish you and, judging by the cramping fingers he could see in his peripheral vision, he was succeeding. too busy arching, your lower back hadn’t touched the navy duvet since armin had laid you down on it. pleasure was storming its way through you; leaving behind, a light layer of sweat glazing your heated body, adhering you to the fabric beneath you. subconsciously, your hips would search for armin’s mouth and your hand ran through his hair to push him further down onto you. your legs would be clamping around his head, and he’d welcome it; happy to be smothered by your scent and the heat exuded by your blazing skin.

this wasn't about foreplay for armin. it most certainly wasn't about reciprocation and, with the way he was rubbing himself against the bed, you were starting to question if it was even about your pleasure anymore. a myriad of various daydreams his mind had thought up over the years meant that armin was in heaven in between your legs. every year, you and your friends rented out a beach house. and, after he had passed out on his bed half-drunk, armin had been rudely awoken by the muffled sounds coming from you and eren’s room. abashedly, it ended in him pulling his dick out and stroking himself until he had to bite his lip to hide the moans. he knew he shouldn't have, but he couldn’t just turn his ears off. so he had just laid there, listening intently. focused on every vocal fluctuation and different intonation of his best friend’s name, armin couldn’t help but imagine all the positions eren had to have put you in to make you sound like that. at that point, his dick was so hard that there was no way he could possibly go back to sleep. so he’d sat up, the back of his head against the wall, as he fucked into his hand. at the end of it, he’d been left with a wet hand and a soaked ego. but today he had you all over him, and armin had always been a messy eater, so it was no wonder he had you on his chin, cheeks, lips, nose, and anywhere else your wetness could reach.

“armin, i'm gonna cummm”, you cried, and armin’s ministrations slowed—his tongue moving slower against you. there’s nothing he wanted to hear more than you whining underneath him, and he got it. as well as your acrylics scratching at his scalp, and his arms. once you did finally cum, armin licked it all up with a smug smile.

any second armin spent with his dick in his boxers, instead of in you, was time frivolously wasted. so they, as well as his pyjama bottoms, would be landing somewhere on his floor very quickly. red with rage, and leaking, his tip flirted with your hole for a moment—collecting any arousal that hadn’t dripped onto the bedding beneath you and tapping the combination of that and his precum on your stomach and thighs. a sick part of him wanted his nut all over you, cloaking you so he could coerce his brain into thinking that you were his. even if it was just for the night. those fantasies distracted him from what was in front of him and once he’d come to, and taken a look at your face, he’d find that you were a mess. so his palm would meet your cheek gently, a fond smile plastered on his face once your eyes glimmered again.

“wake up for me, baby, i need you here for this”, he said, picking up your hand to kiss it. following this gesture, romanticism would seem to fizzle out; your face would soon be in armin’s pillow, while his hand carved out an arch in your back. missionary seemed too personal; intimate. wanton need was radiating off armin, and the last thing he needed was it being fuelled by the hazy fucked-out look in your eyes. because he could only imagine how he would’ve felt seeing the facial expression that accompanied that small whine that came out of your mouth when he slid his tip into you—the small action driving you to insanity already. impatience would push you further onto him, but armin’s smart wits would hold you before you got any further.

“what’s eren been doing to you for you to be this needy?”, he chuckled, kissing your shoulders. initially he pushed himself into you very slowly, giving the both of you time to adjust to each other.

the buried anger armin felt when he realised he was just a pawn in a lover’s spat would soon reappear and you'd feel every inch of it. it was vengeful and unforgiving in a way that stuck your drooling lips to the pillowcase. swallowed emotions flowed through him, concentrating themselves at the place your bodies met, as he slammed into you. discipline was a concept too far gone for the both of you, and all you had to go off of was unfiltered carnality weaving between your bodies. five of armin’s fingertips imprinted themselves into your hip, while the remaining five grappled to grab onto his headboard, after trusting you to maintain the deep arch in your back. helpless hands had been searching for a grip on reality, but they were denied every time,

“don’t tap out on me, y/n, you wanted this now i need you take it”, armin chided. yet your hands wouldn’t cease their search for solace and, in gross irony, they had knocked over the only framed picture armin kept in his room; an old image of him, eren, and their other friends. and, as if an act of orchestrated symbolism, it’d be ignored. the framed expression of their friendship would dramatically fall to the floor, while armin remained hyperfixated on your soft whines—melodic and far too quiet. he’d lean forward, but the only coherency you’d maintained allowed you to turn your head in embarrassment. obviously he’d make you face him, smirking when he saw the teeth marks below your lips,

“nobody’s home, so be as loud as you need, baby. we got too much money to have neighbours, ain't nobody hearing you but me”, he smirked, kissing your skin, and approvingly humming against it when your volume raised.

each time armin slammed into you, it displaced any sound thought—leaving behind a babbling mess and a mouth fighting to beg for something armin couldn’t comprehend.

“speak to me, baby. i need words”, he said onto your jaw. and, again, that forbidden aspect of ‘intimacy’ would push any thoughts of kissing you out of his mind. so he’d refrain, and distract his eyes with the white ring forming at the base of his dick.

“’m gonna cum, armin.”, is all you'd be able to get out, but it'd be all armin needed to move his hand down to rub at your clit. and the extending rubber band in your stomach would endure one more poke from armin’s dick before it snapped unceremoniously, robbing you of your vision. lightening knuckles and cramping fingers accompanied unrestrained moans of armin’s name. in your body’s attempt to get more of armin, it’d push you back and, in turn, force armin’s release out of him. he’d already been on a thinning rein, but it finally gave in at the feeling of you tightening around him.

“i'm gonna—ffffuck—you want it, baby? want my nut leaking outta you?”, he asked, eyebrows scrunched at both the feeling, and deep contemplation of which part of your body would be painted by his release. but, ultimately, his stuttering hips would make that decision for him. as well as your bold words.

“nut in me, armin, pleaseee”, you begged loudly, and armin would fulfil your wishes instantaneously.

for a good few minutes, all that was audible in armin’s bedroom was heavy breathing, neither of you said anything. it was as if you had somehow mutually agreed that expressing how you felt at that point was ghastly inappropriate. though you both knew, and you could feel all of armin’s emotions leaking out of you to slip down your leg, you just remained quiet. the only sound you’d make would be a hushed hiss caused by armin hastily pulling himself out of you. the hands holding you would also remove themselves, not even bothering to catch you when your arms gave out and you fell onto the pillowy surface beneath you. turning around felt physically impossible; how were you meant to face armin when the trajectory of your relationship had been altered for life? instead you’d just lay on your side, staring at the wall.

“don’t tell eren, okay?”, you said to armin once he came into your line of vision. knowingly, his head would be shaking as his hands busily rummaged through his bedside draw.

“of course i won’t”, he smiled at you, finally pulling out a tube from the draw before closing it again.

“the fuck is that?”, you sat yourself up.

“lube”, he answered, prompting you to look at him with confusion scrawled all over your face, “you got your getback for him cheating, but i haven’t got mine for being used”, he smirked.

©2023 nanaminsmooninc. All rights reserved. You may not copy, reproduce, or modify works without permission.

[nanaminsmoon]

HAPPY NEW YEARSSS🎊🎊🍾

It's literally the end of January but happy new years!!😭

[nanaminsmoon]

your boyfriend's best friend, armin...

a.arlet

[nanaminsmoon]

I'm two weeks late but happy new year y'all!!

[nanaminsmoon]

just wanna say happy birthday to the father of my children, gojo satoru🫶🏽

[nanaminsmoon]

why'd they make nanami's ass so fat???

[nanaminsmoon]

5 minutes ~ e.jaegar x goodgirl!reader. mdni. 18+

a/n: i hate the ending for this one, but if i didn't post it now then it'd be in my drafts for years so she had to go lol.

wc: 2976 + not proofread properly.

the saying ‘opposites attract’ was coined for you and eren, with him being the night to your day. he represented the dark cesspools of society that your parents had raised you to stay very weary of. in fact, if there was a textbook definition for the type of boy you’d been warned to stay far, far away from, beside it would be a collage of eren’s mugshots. but first meetings with no knowledge of each other’s histories was the intersection of the paths you’d always considered to be parallel; perhaps walking beside each other, but never converging. and their merging would be caused by the fateful day you crossed the authoritarian line your parents had drawn very boldly since you were very young.

the magnetic field surrounding the young man had been unbeknownst to you, but he was the south to your north pole, reeling you in all night until you inevitably met in the midst of the crowd of moving bodies. you’d been second-guessing your decision to agree to attend ymir’s party with your friends, but any dubious thought in your mind dispersed the second your eyes met eren’s lidded ones. even with the dimmed lighting, you could sense them scanning you—leaving blazing traces of want in their wake. you’d hoped the embarrassment boiling inside of you wasn’t obvious, but it had set your body alight—its heat emanating off your figure to waft into eren’s smug face.

if ‘trouble’ had a look, and smell, it would be eren. it’d have his face—inviting yet seemingly cunning, and unreadable in its arrangement of his perfect features. it’d possess his ability to send a militia of chills up your spine the same way too—unsettlement marching up your spine at the potent smell of cigarette smoke, cologne, and whatever alcohol was in that red solo cup. magnetism brewed in eren’s chest, traversing through his bloodstream to reach the point of his fingertips that lightly traced the exposed skin on your arm. once it’d transfer to you, glances were no longer stolen, and neither were dances—both were given freely. and, alongside the pair, would go your moral compass, making you unrecognisable even to yourself as you moved with him—your ass pushing into his growing bulge. the heat transferring at the point where your bodies met would cancel out that of his burning gaze on you. that and his feverish hands grabbing onto your hips, catching everything you threw back on him. all the while, a cigarette would sit comfortably between his lips, grey smoke slipping past it to escape his mouth every time he groaned at the feeling of you brushing against him.

the newfound courage cloaked you, blurring your presence in the crowd of moving figures thus making it impossible for your friends to find you. sense regained, they stood at the door all ready to go home, but ‘home’ hadn’t been a thought in your mind since the smoke eren blew into your mouth, ascended into your brain to cloud your sense of better judgment. there would be a moment where your eyes would dart to them as they beckoned for you to join them, but eren would catch on quickly. and his fingers, hugging his cigarette between them, would wrap themselves around your chin as they turned you to face him,

“gimme 5 more minutes”, his cheek would be against yours as he spoke into your ear, and you’d nod like a fool as he smiled at you and took your hand in his, leading you upstairs.

and five minutes is all it’d take for the barrier holding back your tears to collapse unceremoniously, making way for the stream to coat the pillow cases of ymir’s parents’ bed. the combination of your wanton desperation, pleasure, and makeup would stain the material pressed up against your face—adhering it to your moist skin in a way that made your conscience pulsate with guilt. but the once clear-cut lines on your morality would fade with every collision of eren’s skin against yours. the moments leading up to this position had gotten you used to the way eren’s fingertips dug into your hips and, though similar to that of when you were dancing together, this time he could clearly see the way your flesh recoiled when your skin met his. finally, he could clearly hear the small, squeals leaving your mouth as his dick bullied its way in and out of you, leaving you a fucked out, dishevelled shell of yourself. and that shell that would soon be filled to the point of leakage when your walls tightening around him, unexpectedly stole eren’s release from him. and, somehow, five minutes would turn into two hours, until you were both dragged back into reality by heavy knocks on the door.

call it naivety, or wishful thinking that your actions would never catch up to you, but you had expected to never see eren ever again after that night. but the following months would be spent interweaved in each other. labels weren’t yet decided, so they changed depending on the day; on random evenings, you were eren’s alibi—voice shaking as you lied for him, assuring his parole officer that you’d been watching movies together when, in reality, you hadn’t even known where he was. and, on saturdays, your lap served as his most comfortable pillow as the incomprehensible words you read from your favourite book fell onto his face from above him.

but skipped classes, and unexplainable disappearances meant you soon found yourself under heavy surveillance. from being driven to and from uni, to not being allowed to meet friends, and being basically trapped in your home. the joy shared between eren and yourself had been for you two only. seemingly, the portions hadn’t been distributed evenly meaning that your friends and family sat with plates full of disdain and worry, prepared for a boy they didn’t even know. all they saw of eren was his effect on you; increased callousness, tanking grades, and constant escapades that rendered you a ghost floating in and out of their lives. and soon there’d be a fury-fuelled war waged between two sides; one side that hated eren for ruining you, and the other that hated your family for taking you from his grasp just as he was about to pull you from heaven into his unprincipled clutches.

unfortunately for your friends and family, armageddon couldn’t stop eren from trying to reach you. no matter how many times you denied him, he’d try his luck at getting to you through any means necessary; he’d call you, text at stupid hours of the night asking you sneak out, this boy even disguised himself as a delivery driver just to see you. but every single advance was (very reluctantly!) declined; calls rejected, texts ignored, and, after gathering yourself, you’d tell him that you hadn’t ordered anything and he had the wrong house. bottom lip in between your teeth, to combat the tears hanging over your waterline, you’d closed the door, taken a deep breath, before making your way upstairs to text him an essay of an apology.

that day, you forbode eren from coming to you but, as anyone who knew eren would tell you, he’d never been good at following instructions. so you’d be doing your uni work, when you’d hear loud ass music playing outside. expecting more self-control from eren, there wouldn’t even be a second where you thought it’d be him. even when incessant honking began, you’d ignore it and continue trying to replenish your plummeting gpa. and you’d succeed at keeping focused. until you heard a small knock on your door.

“y/n, you know that guy?”, your brother asked you.

“what guy?”, a finger pointing to the window would be your brother’s answer. and your limbs would freeze at the sight of the black hellcat outside, but they’d be quick in moving you once you saw eren’s car door start to open. by the time you opened your front door, eren was walking up your driveway and his determined gaze would soften once it landed on you. that was before he saw the frustrated presentation of your features as you marched towards him, then he’d just chuckle at you. both hands flat on his back, you’d push eren back to his car as he laughed and questioned you. but he’d get no answers until you shoved him against the car—his back facing your house—and started lecturing him,

“why are you here?”, you’d chide through clenched teeth.

“what, i can’t come see you?”, he’d ask, leaning on his car and reaching for your hand. stress would have you moving your hands from his own, as you rolled your eyes at him.

“not at my family home, eren, no!”, you’d let out an exasperated sigh, “are you out of your damn mind?! coming here and making all this noise, just because you ‘want to see me’?”,

“i miss us, y/n”, he’d say, eyes flittering all over your face as they examined your vexed expression. at this point, the anger was just a shield protecting you from his words because you knew that as soon as they penetrated your skin to enter your heart, you’d fold like a damn lawn chair. and, opportunistic as he was, eren would take the time you spent processing his confession as a chance to get sit his fingertips, one-by-one, on your hips. too deep in thought, you’d have no time to react before he pulled you closer to him.

“not now, eren.”, you’d instruct, placing your hands on top of his.

“you ain’t miss me?”, he’d tilt his head.

pretending not to want eren did nothing but spur him on. mainly because he knew that there was a mutual longing keeping you two connected. as harsh as you tried to be, eren could feel your internal conflict in your movements—the sour irritation in your words was no match for the way your body instinctually yielded to his touch. it’d be still as eren’s arms enveloped you, his heart joyous at the feeling of your body weight slowly increasing—your every appendage relaxing onto him. naturally, he’d grow smug and pull back to slyly observe the way he knew you’d chase his lips, just like every other time he stopped kissing you, and he’d grin to himself.

“i did, but not here.”, you’d shake your head, “not like this”, you’d say. and, in a successful attempt to still your head, eren’s hands would cup your cheeks before he gently pressed his lips against yours. there’d be a split second where your body would try and move you away from him but, as soon as his tongue gently grazed your bottom lip, you’d neglect your surroundings—hands massaging the back of his neck, as you pulled him closer.

“why not?”, he’d ask, quietly. his fervid gaze possessed enough heat to turn you into a patch of liquid, very similar to the one in the front of your underwear. and, though composure wouldn’t come easy to you, you’d grapple for it anyways, moving from him and ignoring the smirk on his face as he watched you.

©2023 nanaminsmooninc. All rights reserved. You may not copy, reproduce, or modify works without permission.

“you know why, now get off me before i scream and get the police called on your dumbass”, the feigned innocence would break and eren would outright laugh at your threat. enthralled eyes would watch the joy spread all over his face, the feeling contagious as you slowly felt the corners of your lips rise. that’d be before you realised where you were, and quickly moved your hand to cover his mouth to muffle the bellowing sound.

“i wouldn’t mind hearing you scream.”, he’d say after removing your hand from his face, “it’d make driving here worth it.”, he teased. and, once again, you’d be falling into his deep green eyes, beguiled by his intoxicating gaze. reminders of reality would only come when a quick flicker of your eyes to the building behind eren’s car revealed your front door opening. equally as curious as the young boy stood at the door, eren would turn but you’d quickly shoo your brother back inside, originally aiming to follow him.

“just gimme 5 minutes”, a low voice would ask, stopping you in your tracks. eren’s recklessness always seemed to rub off on you. perhaps remnants of it latched onto you when he held you close to himself, or maybe his lips spoke it to you as he kissed you. but, without fail, it’d rid you of everything you thought you knew about yourself. and it’d also have you following him into the backseat of his car.

though it was never expressed to you, you were just as much of a forbidden fruit for eren as he was for you. a chair occupied by thoughts of your chaste nature had anxiously sat in his heart, as the thought of his sodden fingerprints being the ones to pervert you spun around his mind. that was until eren placed your hands on the back of said chair, bending you over it and making his peace with sending you back to your parents with his depraved handprints, and debauched lip prints singed all over your body. forbidden as you may have been, eren couldn’t get enough of you. you were a banned berry that he couldn’t help but sink his teeth into, letting the taste of you reside in every corner of his mouth—your juices slipping out of the corners of his lips as you squirmed, and scratched at his leather seats. no more than a few minutes passed with you on eren’s lap, his lips busy marking your neck and chest—any regard for your parents’ reactions was absolved the moment your fingers intertwined at his nape to lightly tug at his hair. the only thought on his mind for weeks had been the taste of you, so he’d wasted no time in moving his lips from you and laying you flat on your back on his backseats. and your comprehension of any moment that followed that was wiped out by the tsunami of pleasure that flooded your conscious mind, as well as the white flash that accompanied it stealing your vision. the last thing you remembered was eren’s eyes—locked on yours—as his teeth plucked at your panties, pulling them down your thighs.

for most, self-reflection would be triggered by the fact that their partner’s friends and family hated them with a scorching passion, but not eren. he welcomed the scrutiny with open arms because, as toxic as it sounded, he had learned to love being a terrible influence. he luxuriated in being the guy your friends begged you to leave, those conversations always ending in teary arguments wherein you’d have to fight to justify your want for him. he loved knowing that even as every mouth around you told you to stay far away from him, his devious one always brought you right back. that, sweet as you were, you were addicted to the nasty way he fucked you; bent over in his car, or anywhere he could hide you from prying eyes. and the fact that, with every load he filled you with, droplets of his identity had been inserted into you with all of them being preserved perfectly, with not an ounce of alteration. whether that be his attitude, or his need to fuck the sanity out of you, you resembled eren more and more with every connection of his tip and your cervix. slowly, your vocabulary had matured to match his and you had started using words he’d never expect to hear from such a pretty, innocent-looking face,

“ffuck, i’ve missed this dick so much, eren”, you’d keened, ridding eren of any rational thought. his hips would hasten on their own at the sound of your lascivious wording, deepening every breath your lungs fought to take. and, as good as you felt, corrupting a good girl had never been something eren had wanted to do. usually, he liked his girls experienced, but you had a charm about you.

he liked the way your eyes glimmered at him as he spoke to you, and the adorable way you remembered small details about him. after a while, he began enjoying the way he was disintegrating every single value your parents had instilled in you, as well as you just letting him. but no more than the way you moaned his name, and made lust-filled promises that disgraced the parents who had worked so hard to raise you,

“i’m all yours, ‘ren, i belong to nobody but you”, you’d cried out, and he’d gently kiss your cheek. the romantic work of his lips, was in direct opposition to the cruel way his dick hit that spongy spot inside you, coaxing your release from you and refusing to stop.

“i know, baby, you ain’t gotta tell me. i know. you’re all mine, and can’t nobody do shit about it.”, he'd reply. and he was right. because, as long as he made you feel the way he did, eren was untouchable. whether that be for 5 minutes, or for the rest of your life.

[nanaminsmoon]

take your time friend, we’ll patiently wait for your work 🥰

thanks friend🫶🏾🫶🏾