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strwbnnie · 4 months ago

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🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

hiiii! I’ve been in such a funk since I lost my wips 🥲 but it feels good to be writing again! Thank you all for 700 followers 🥹🫶🏾 it’s crazy cause I was just celebrating 500!

Also, I’m obsessed with this tiny font :)

Warnings: smut, dilf bakugo, milf reader, afab reader, black coded! reader, mutual pining, baby mentioned, breast feeding mentioned, unprotected sex, creampie, lactation kink, pet name usage (ex. baby, mama, papa), excuse any mistakes, MDNI!

Word count: undetermined

❀

Babydaddy!Bakugo who's stopping by to pick up his son Katsumi from your place. He scans the vicinity, still as quiet as usual but he does notice someone’s finally moved into the townhouse adjacent to yours.

He’s not sure if it’s a man or woman, and he’s not comfortable with it, especially since it’s just you and ‘Sumi here. He made a note to get someone at the agency to check them out.

He’s standing there for about a minute until you’re opening up the door with the baby attached to your tit in a tight fitting sun dress, just begging him to run his hands all over you. He’s undressing you with his eyes, not that the dress leaves anything to imagine anyway.

“Come on so you don’t let any flies in. He was fussing real bad so l'm feeding him, I'll be done in a second."

He just nods, it's all he can do as he stares, mesmerized. He doesn’t mind anyway, he isn’t in any kind of rush.

It never gets old—seeing you be a mommy. Seeing you care for the beautiful being the two of you created. Makes him fall in love with you all over again. It’s also a bonus being able to call you a milf.

He hands you a vanilla parfait from the cafe he gets his coffee from, remembers you used to love them before ‘Sumi, hopes you still do.

“Thank you.”

You didn’t have much of an appetite, taste testing your different dishes in the midst of preparing Sunday dinner has you a little full so you opt for picking the fruit off your parfait.

“No problem, you’re running a dairy farm over here, gotta keep ya fed.” “Are you calling me a cow?”

“I’m not wrong.”

Your kid has one breast occupied, the other is stuffed in the electric pump. You’re not sure if you’ve gotten used to being ‘milked’ as Katsuki usually calls it, but it certainly feels better than letting the milk swell inside.

It’s safe to say you got this parenting thing down fairly quickly, or at least it seemed like you did. Time moved fast, your baby nearing six months already. He doesn't see much of you anymore, just those days when it's time for him to get the little brat or drop him back off.

He's not sure how things got the way they were—seems like just yesterday you were about to be his wife and now, things were just complicated. The two of you were high school sweethearts, first everything’s, now well into your late twenties with a baby. There was no infidelity involved in the split, just a matter of you two not seeing eye to eye, butting heads far too often for comfort. He admits it’s his fault, but he truly meant no harm, just wanted to protect his family.

But, he still loves the hell out of you. Hopes you still love him too. And even if you don't, he'll still love you. You gave him his child, after all.

That little boy is his pride and joy. He's the cutest thing he's ever laid eyes on, a chunky little nugget with rolls everywhere and now he has a double chin. Obviously didn’t miss any meals.

Katsumi's the perfect mix of the two of you. His complexion has settled as the months passed by, darkening to a deep golden tan, a head full of thick curly hair and of course his daddy's angry red eyes and ever present scowl. He looks like a mean little shit just like his daddy did at his age, except he's literally the sweetest baby, always ready to show those two little teeth in a big smile.

He can't believe he helped create something so precious and most of all he can't believe he created him with you.

“You haven't been sleeping much lately, I can tell."

Time apart didn’t change much, you still knew him like the back of your hand and vice versa.

Babydaddy!Bakugo finds himself seated in one of your bar stools, looking around at your home.

It looks like you’re almost done decorating, and you actually did get that dumb couch you’d been raving about. He takes in the shades of green and cream, the earthy tones accented in, the plants, fluorescent lighting, it’s all so you.

He loves it. Wishes he lived in it with you. Fuck he missed you so bad.

"Schedule change. I work a week on-week off now." Truth is, he hasn’t had a good rest since you left, on top of his new crazy ass schedule he’d be lucky if he got three consecutive hours of sleep a night. And some nights when he had ‘Sumi, he had to forgo sleep completely.

“Damn, that’s a lot. It’s not too much for you? What if you’re too tired for ‘Sumi, he’s rolling over and shit now so you really gotta watch him.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ve been a baby y/n, I know what babies do.”

“Don’t piss me off, that’s not even the same thing.” You take a jab at the side of his head with your finger. “I’m just saying, he’s real active now, I catch him trying to do backflips off the bed at least ten times a day.”

You feel his sucking on your breast slowing, signs that he’s done with his feeding.

“I hear ya, y/n. I‘m not gonna let him crack his skull open on my watch.”

“Good, best daddy ever.” You roll your eyes playfully but you mean your words wholeheartedly. Regardless of the situation between you two, Katsuki was so helpful and supportive now that ‘Sumi was actually here, and he made this co-parenting thing so much easier than you thought it’d be.

Katsumi pulls away from you, easing his head away until your nipple is no longer in his mouth. He hears Katsuki but he can’t see him, tossing his head back and moving it side to side until he finally lays eyes on his daddy.

One of his tiny hands is clinging to the thin strap of your dress while the other makes grabbies at Katsuki.

“You wanna come to Papa?” He asks, the big grin on his face is so precious.

Bakugo washes his hands with cold water, drying them off before he gently grabs him from you, laying him over his shoulder to burp him. He catches the little bit he spit up with the bib, and hands it to you to swap for a clean one.

He sits Katsumi on the counter, pretending to punch him with his own little fists and it sends him into a fit of giggles and screams.

"You got anything going on today?" You’re leaned against the counter, just watching the two of them. It brings a smile to your face, one you quickly drop before he could realize it cause it almost feels wrong to enjoy it.

"Nah, mom wants to see em' so we're gonna head over. That's all though, you?"

“Nothing today, but I’m going clothes shopping for ‘Sumi soon, tomorrow or Tuesday.”

“Yeah? Already?”

You nod your head as you lift the lids on your pots, stirring one more time before turning the burners off.

“Yeah, I didn’t think he’d be growing out of all his stuff so damn soon. I was thinking we could pick out some of the neutral stuff for Denki and Jirou. Donate the rest to the hospital.”

Now that he’s really looking at it, the onesie is a little tighter around his thighs. His baby boy is growing so fast it almost brings tears to his eyes. Soon enough he’ll be crawling, then walking and then college—he couldn’t even fathom the thought of his little nugget going to college!

He disregards his manic thoughts when he hears your voice again. “Maybe we can go together..you can hold the bags like you used to…if you want to, and if you have time, of course.”

“Of course I do, I’ll make time.”

You’re shocked at his enthusiasm because this couldn’t be the same man who’d ‘rather take a slug from Kirishima than get stuck shopping with you.’

But who could blame him, coming home to an empty house for the past couple of months had him going damn near insane. He was craving any kind of contact with you.

Babydaddy!Bakugo who just can't resist your cooking, especially when it meant being in your presence even longer than usual. Now standing at your kitchen island eating the hefty plate you made him, watching you wrap the ones you’re giving him to go for him and his parents. Next you’re tidying up the area and putting the rest of the food up in tupperware bowls.

He's stalking your every move, watching you like a hawk. Like prey. And don't think for one second that he doesn't notice the way your dress gets stuck in between the cheeks of your ass when you bend down to put your clean pots and pans in the cabinet.

He thinks you’re teasing, bets you’re not even wearing panties. Maybe you're innocent, but either way he takes the bait, pressing his crotch against your ass while you’re still bent.

“Katsuki.” You try to keep your voice stern but it doesn’t phase the crimson eyed devil behind you.

“Y/N.” He says your name back just as serious, but you can hear it, the lust oozing from his tongue. It sends chills down your entire being as he rubs up against you, and god you hate being so weak.

Babydaddy!Bakugo who should've only been there to pick up his kid, but instead has you in his lap, palms planted on the round globes of your ass while you’re bouncing on his cock like your life depended on it.

It’s hard to keep a steady pace when he’s lifting you and dropping you back down so hard and fast. You're forced to bite your lip to keep your moans at bay, your son just a few feet away, sleeping in his swing.

“Kid can sleep through an earthquake, lemme hear that pretty voice."

Babydaddy!Bakugo who's still the hot headed idiot he's always been, is only gonna tell you one time. Gives you about a minute or so before he's holding you taut, bucking his hips up into you with the meanest, most devilish grin on his face.

Now you're whining and moaning like an absolute slut.

It makes his dick throb and his balls tighten, pussy clenching around him like a vice.

"Fuck, I miss hearing those sexy sounds."

He's licking and sucking on your nipple, squeezing and kneading until he's tasting that sweet liquid gold coating his taste buds.

"St-stopppp." You're whining and pushing at his head, doing nothing but egging him on. “You're wasting it."

"Nah, Papa's gonna drink it all up." He’s holding you tight, licking at the white beads that dribble from your nipple and fucking up into you so good you start to see spots of white in your vision. He feels the way you go rigid in his arms, the first syllable of his name stuck in your throat, and he knows you’re cumming for him. He doesn’t stop—his strong hips keep bouncing your stiffened figure like you weigh nothing, fucking you through your first orgasm.

Your pussy leaves him coated in your milky white cream, still dribbling onto his lap when he lifts you off.

“Made a mess of me.”

You’re nodding like he asked you a question, it makes him chuckle. “I’m sorry.”

He surely doesn’t mind, especially not with the way he swipes his two fingers through the folds of your cunt, gathering more of that creamy wetness on his hand to stroke at his cock. The loud squelch of his hand rubbing up and down, using it like a lubricant and coating himself in your essence, your scent. It all should’ve been disgusting. Lewd and indecent.

Except it wasn’t.

If anything it turned you on more, an indirect laying of claim, reminding you that he was still yours. God knows you shouldn’t be having those kind of thoughts, not until you two have reached a common ground, but Katsuki knew every which way to push your buttons.

He’s got you on your back now, panting like a dog as he drills your cunt with remnants of your milk trailing down the bottom of his chin.

A hand between your thighs and thumb strumming at your clit while he fucked you had you in a trance. Eyes rolled into the back of your head and your plump bottom lip pulled tightly between your lips. The sheer force and friction of every thrust has your bonnet slipping and sliding until the luscious jet black locks of your wig are free. Fuck it’s so long and pretty and you look like a fucking goddess underneath him. He wishes he could have you like this all day, everyday.

He's not letting up, both of those big hands of his now palming at the back of your thighs as he pushes them flat against the couch, pounding you to oblivion, digging you out like this might be the last time. You pray it's not the last time. You also pray your couch comes clean, he's got your pussy gushing, dripping all over your sage colored cushions.

Katsuki sees your eyes trailing over to Katsumi, the swing is still going, you wonder how long he set the timer for.

"Eyes on me baby, he's good. I promise."

He is. Mouth slightly open and he’s snoring a little, still sleeping like the little cherub he is while his daddy bullies your cunt, fucking you like he hates your guts.

"Just focus on me." He's peppering kisses all over you in between his speaking. "I know you miss me fucking you. Tell me how much you miss this dick."

It's been almost five months since you've been fucked like this, or fucked at all for that matter.

"So so much! Miss you so much papa." You’re pulling his face down towards yours, pressing your lips together, legs wrapped around his waist. This scene probably resembles the one that got you pregnant in the first place.

"Yeah? Talk to me, mama.” He hopes you mean it. Prays it isn't just cock-drunk babbling cus he misses you too. So fucking much.

"Yeahh.” Your brows are scrunched together as you nod furiously. “I haven't fucked nobody else. This pussy's still yours baby."

God he misses you like this, so cock-drunk and cute.

He leans in to kiss you again, tongues fighting for dominance against each other’s. “Haven’t fucked anybody either. This dick is always gonna be yours baby.”

He feels you clenching around him and that’s all the confirmation he needs as he shoots his seed deep in your pussy.

The both of you lie there together, there’s no telling how many minutes have gone by—just skin to skin basking in the afterglow of eachother until Katsumi let’s out a yelp that startles the both of you, whining a little as his swing comes to a stop. He’s stretching his tiny arms and smacking his lips, both signs of a great nap, making those weird baby noises.

Katsuki smirks to himself. He knows his kid like the back of his hand and wants to hit you with a big, fat ‘I told you so’ for doubting him. Instead, plants a kiss on the side of your face before he gets up.

Babydaddy!Bakugo who has you blinking back tears as you stare at his retreating form exiting the threshold of your home.

“Be safe.” You call out just before the door closes. It’s always bittersweet every single time, watching the two of them leave, praying they both returned to you safely. It makes you yearn to have your family back. Back under the same roof, and back to the way things used to be.

❀

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strwbnnie · 4 months ago

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Hi, my name is Mosab , I’m from Gaza, and like many here, I’ve lost more than I ever thought I could bear — my family, my home, my sense of safety, and the simple moments that once gave life meaning. 💔

I’m not writing this to ask too much of anyone. I’m sharing a piece of my story — not because I want sympathy, but because I still believe someone, somewhere, might care enough to listen.

If this message finds you at the wrong time, I understand.

I’m truly sorry if it feels like an interruption.

➡️ Please feel free to DM me if you'd rather not receive asks from me — I'll make sure not to contact you again. 🤍

✨ If you do feel moved to help — even by sharing — it means more than words can say.

Every repost, every bit of care, helps keep hope alive in a place that has seen too much darkness.

🙏 Thank you for taking the time to read.

📌 Post Link

Wishing you peace, healing, and comfort — wherever you are.

With deep appreciation

boost and donate if you can!

#d0nate if you can!#free gaza #gaza genocide #from the river to the sea palestine will be free

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strwbnnie · 4 months ago

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this…like, edtwt & edtok even being a thing in this day and age is bonkers. And skinnytok literally pushes the same values just under a more acceptable name, it’s all sick af

stop glorifying and romanticizing weight loss, especially attained through illness & unhealthy habits

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strwbnnie · 4 months ago

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Yeahhh…need that

A Fool For Love (18+ Fic) *PREVIEW*

Pairing: Gangster!Bakugou x Black!Bimbo!Reader

Synopsis: You were just a lowly young woman singing and dancing at your local club to care for your sick mother and a chance at fame. He was just a renowned gangster, building his lonely empire and riches on the bones he broke. And then you two met and suddenly, everything seemed to fit together...until he broke it all apart again. Now, trying to move on, you find affection with another, but your gangster ex doesn't take too kindly to that and will have to find it in himself to make you understand that you're the one for him.

Story Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Time Period AU (Roaring 1920s); Gangster/Thug!Bakugou; Strangers to Lovers/Exes to Lovers; Opposites Attract Trope; Sunshine x Grumpy Trope; Mild Violence; Love Triangle; Jealous BF!Bakugou; Possession/Ownership; Bondage; Mild BDSM; Marking; Scent Play; Daddy Kink; Spanking; Spit Play; Cum Play; Public Sex; Dom!Bakugou x sub!Reader; Breeding Kink; Unprotected Sex/Creampies; Fluff & Hurt/Angst

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: Soooo I had this idea in my head for THEE LONGEST TIME after listening to Lucky Daye's "That's You" back to back for months now lol. I wanted to write a gangster fic for a minute now, but I was having trouble picking WHO to write it for until I did a poll on here & people chose Bakugou for it. I'm so hype to write this because I'm a slut for mafia romance (I'm a wattpad girl stfu) & I love writing period shit. I hope y'all enjoy it! 🥰🥰🥰🥰

I also have a tracklist that I made for this short compiled of songs I think fit the story & the time period it takes place in. You can find it below! If anyone has any idea who the artist is for the fan art in the tracklist, PLEASE let me know! (I found it on Pinterest) 💗💗💗💗 -Jazz

Chapters: PREVIEW. I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X.

***********

PREVIEW

Bakugou watches you intently sitting next to him in the passenger's seat of his car, the rain pitter-pattering outside, creating a loud cacophony of endless noise.

Your sweet voice nearly gets swept up with the rain. “I don’t understand, Katsuki. I just don’t understand you.”

You won't look at him. Your beautiful, doe-like brown eyes are staring somewhere else outside the windshield, the rain reflecting back in those pools of bewilderment and sorrow that Bakugou could get lost in forever.

'I know, baby,' he thinks, his own sorrow and regret threatening to swallow him whole. 'I wish I could tell you everything. Wish I could make you understand...'

But making you understand would also mean he would have to tell you and show you everything about him, and he dreads that. Because everyone he has ever shown the him behind the designer suits, fancy cars, laser red stares, and cool exterior has abandoned him. Broken his heart. Taken his affection and stomped on it.

He is afraid of what will happen if he does show you who he is because he has no idea what you'll do if he does. That is the reason he separated from you-to leave you before you left him. To save himself the heartbreak and you the horror of seeing that he is nothing like the man you thought he was.

It doesn't make it any better than you're so sweet. So kind. So different from the rest. The temptation to show you everything-the blood, the pain, the scars, the mistakes, the regrets-frightens him so.

"I'm sorry" is all he can say to you now, sitting awkwardly in the driver's seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel for dear life to avoid trembling. He doesn't want to appear weak with you, his dear, precious little singer.

It is so lame, so trivial, but it is all he can muster to tell you now despite the brown liquor fogging his sense of rationality and his filter. He wants so much to tell you how much he misses you.

How he cannot fall asleep without envisioning your face next to him.

How he hasn't washed his pillow since the last time you slept on it just to smell your perfume on it.

How there has been no other woman in his bed or in his arms since you departed.

But he keeps it all back...for now. You look up at him now, turning away from the raindrops to finally put those pretty eyes on him. He nearly swallows his tongue at your beauty-your creamy skin that contrasts his; your baby face and dimples; your curly black hair made even curlier from the rain. The urge to kiss you lingers in the air.

"I don't get it," you say aloud, frustration and confusion evident in your tone and the crease in your brow. "What do you want?"

Bakugou blinks at you, not counting on the question being asked. It should be so easy to reply to, but he can't. Because if he says "you" then he will be forced to tell you the real reason why he ended your relationship: because he is afraid.

The silence must frustrate you more because your cute little lips purse, something you do when you're irritated. "What do you want, Katsuki?" you ask again, your frustration growing.

Finally, Bakugou relaxes his hold on the steering wheel and replaces it with your small, warm hands. You stare at his bigger, calloused, inked ones interlaced with yours as if you can't believe he is touching you. "I want you happy," he answers, true and genuine. "Even if it isn't with me, Y/N. I need you to be happy."

And despite the utter anguish that his response brings, despite the fact that he would be heartbroken if you were to end up with that stupid extra "Todoroki" or some other chump, if you were to be happier than you were with him, that would be the answer to his nightly prayers.

But he would also be lying if he said that he wouldn't be filled with envy for the rest of his days and dying to take the spot of the other man in your arms.

#so exciiiiiited #omg!!!!#bakugo x black reader

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strwbnnie · 5 months ago

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Study

Summary: You were that girl, popular, head cheerleader—everyone knew who you were. Yet there was Eren, unpopular, nerd, low-key but he was your childhood friend, and when you need help to pass a test who better to ask for help? ۶ৎ Eren x black fem reader ۶ৎ

Context: Oral (female receiving), cowgirl, talking him through it, virgin Eren, desperate Eren, slight praise kink, slightly dom reader (?)

Word count — 4.4k

You were late. Again.

Cheer practice had run way later than expected last night, leaving you up past midnight finalising the new routine and sorting out last-minute details for the upcoming Halloween party your co-captain was throwing.

By the time your head hit the pillow, exhaustion won, and you completely forgot to set your alarm.

Now, here you were, walking into math class a solid ten minutes late, moving at a pace that could only be described as unbothered.

"So glad you could finally join us," your teacher drawled, eyes narrowing as you entered.

You rolled your eyes, barely trying to hide it, and made your way to your seat. "Yeah, yeah. Morning to you too," you muttered under your breath, dropping into your chair and pulling out your notebook.

Your freshly manicured nails tapped idly against the cover as you glanced at the front of the room, pretending to listen while your teacher went on about quadratic equations or whatever the hell was on the board today. The words blurred together almost instantly, your brain refusing to process them.

Math had never been your thing, and at this point, you weren’t even trying to fake it.

The clock seemed to crawl through the period, every second stretching out painfully slow. When the bell finally rang, you exhaled in relief, slinging your bag over your shoulder and standing up.

But then you remembered.

Your stomach twisted as students lined up to grab their graded papers from last week's test. You followed reluctantly, dragging your feet until you reached the stack and pulled your paper from the pile.

One glance and your stomach dropped.

A big, fat red "D."

You sucked in a sharp breath, flipping through the pages as if that would somehow make the reality of it less humiliating. There were red marks everywhere—corrections, question marks, a "see me after class" scribbled near the bottom that you had no intention of acknowledging.

A lump formed in your throat, but you pushed it down, keeping your expression neutral as you turned to leave.

You almost made it. Almost.

"Miss, a word."

You internally groaned but stopped, turning back to face your teacher with a forced smile. "What’s up?"

They sighed, setting their papers down. "You’re failing. Again."

Your jaw clenched. "I know. But I’ll do better on the next test, I promise."

Your teacher gave you a pointed look, unconvinced. "You said that last time. And the time before that. Yet, here we are."

You crossed your arms, shifting uncomfortably.

"If you don’t pass the next exam," they continued, "I’ll have no choice but to notify the Coach and you will be cut from the squad."

Your heart stopped.

"Wait, what? That’s not fair!" Panic slipped into your voice despite your best efforts. "Cheer has nothing to do with math!"

"School comes first," they said simply. "And if you can’t keep up academically, you can’t stay on the team."

Your fingers curled into fists. This couldn’t be happening. Cheer was your life—your social standing, your ticket to every party, your everything. There was no way you were getting benched over some stupid numbers.

"Fine," you muttered, biting the inside of your cheek. "I’ll figure something out."

You turned and stormed out of the classroom before they could say anything else, heart pounding.

You needed a tutor.

Scratch that.

You needed Eren.

You and Eren Yeager had been friends for as long as you could remember.

Your moms were best friends, which meant playdates, family vacations, and growing up practically attached at the hip. You knew every awkward phase he’d gone through—the bowl cut in third grade, the braces in middle school, the phase where he refused to wear anything but anime merch. And through it all, you’d stuck by him.

Even when y’all got to high school and your social circles went in completely opposite directions.

Eren? Full-on nerd mode. Straight As, top of the class, always deep in some debate about sci-fi movies or physics theories with his other nerdy friends. Meanwhile, you had cheer practice, school events, and an entire social life to maintain. On paper, y’all shouldn’t even be friends anymore.

But no one said shit about Eren when you were around.

Anytime some dumbass tried to clown him for being a nerd, you shut it down quick.

“Damn, Yeager, you ever had a girlfriend before?” Some basketball player had laughed once. “Or do you just jack off to anime girls all day?”

You hadn’t even hesitated. “That’s crazy talk from somebody who got dumped last week ‘cause his stroke game was weak.”

And just like that, the conversation shifted.

Eren never asked you to do it, but you didn’t care. People could say whatever they wanted about him when you weren’t around, but if they had the nerve to say it in front of you? Oh, it was over for them.

Maybe that’s why, when your grades started slipping, you knew exactly who to run to.

You found him exactly where you expected—sitting under the massive oak tree at the edge of the courtyard, nose buried in a textbook, glasses slipping down his nose as he scribbled something into his notebook.

You exhaled, fixing your skirt and smoothing down your hair before approaching with a purpose.

"Eren!" you called sweetly, plopping down beside him in the grass.

He glanced up, brows raising slightly. "Hey," he said, pushing his glasses up his nose before looking back at his notes. "What’s up?"

You pouted, leaning in just enough to get his attention. "I need your help."

His pencil stilled. He looked at you again—this time with suspicion. "With what?"

You sighed dramatically, making sure you sounded just the right amount of distressed. "Math is kicking my ass, and if I don’t pass my next test, they’re kicking me off the squad."

Eren frowned, straightening a little. "Wait, seriously?"

"Dead serious," you nodded. "And you’re literally the smartest person I know, so I just know you can help me."

Eren narrowed his eyes slightly, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "You just know I can help you?"

"Yes!" You placed a hand on his arm, giving him your best pleading look. "You wouldn’t let me fail, would you, Eren?"

He let out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Eren, please.” You reached for him, grabbing his hands dramatically. “You’re literally my only hope.”

He glanced at your hands, then at your face, and exhaled sharply.

“Fine,” he muttered. “But I’m teaching you. I’m not just giving you answers.”

“Of course,” you said sweetly, already knowing you’d try to make him do most of the work anyway.

Eren’s room hadn’t changed much since you were kids. Still a little messy, still cluttered with books and random nerdy shit, though now there were posters of musicians and a desk stacked with neatly organized notebooks.

You’d spent countless afternoons here growing up—doing homework, playing video games, helping Eren clean before his mom got home and chewed him out. But now? The open math book in front of you was absolutely killing the vibe.

You groaned dramatically, letting your head drop onto his pillow. “Eren, I hate this.”

“Yeah, I know,” he muttered, flipping through his notes. “But you’re the one who begged me for help.”

You cracked an eye open. “You sure you don’t just wanna do it for me?”

Eren didn’t even look up. “Yes.”

Ugh. So much for that.

You sat up, tapping your pencil against your notebook as he started explaining some godforsaken formula, but your focus was drifting. And honestly, whose fault was that? The school, for forcing you to care about math that would never be useful in the real world? Your teacher, for literally threatening to bench you from the squad if you didn’t pass? Or Eren, for some reason, having the audacity to be hot now?

You didn’t even know when it happened.

You had seen every phase of his life—the awkward bowl cut era, the “I only wear cargo shorts” phase, the unfortunate decision to bleach his hair that one summer (it was tragic). And yet, at some point, Eren Yeager had glowed the fuck up, and you had somehow missed it.

His voice was deeper now—smooth, steady, nice to listen to in a way you had never noticed before. And his hands? Long fingers, a little rough from years of writing and whatever random video game he decided to hyper-fixate on. He gestured when he talked, and you found yourself watching them, following their movements as he scribbled numbers across his notebook—

Wait. What the fuck were you thinking?

You blinked rapidly, snapping yourself out of it. Now was not the time to start seeing Eren like that.

“Are you even listening?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Nope,” you said without hesitation. “Can you pass my drink?”

Eren barely looked up as he reached blindly for the glass, and in true Eren fashion, his dumbass missed—his hand knocking it over instead.

"Shit." He cursed under his breath, jerking back as the drink spilt all over his shirt.

With a frustrated sigh, he stood up, yanked his shirt over his head, and shook off the excess liquid.

And that was the moment your brain broke.

What. The. Hell.

When had he gotten muscles?

You stared—blatantly. His arms, toned from years of carrying god-knows-how-many books. His collarbones, sharp and way too defined for someone who spent most of his time in the library. And his chest—since when was he built like that?

You had seen plenty of guys shirtless. Mostly football players, guys on the team who were already ripped and knew it. But Eren? He wasn’t one of them. Or at least, he hadn’t been.

Until now.

“Okay, laugh it up,” Eren muttered, completely oblivious to the absolute crisis happening in your head. “Yes, I’m still clumsy. Comes with the bad hand-eye coordination and short eyesight.”

You couldn’t laugh. You couldn’t even breathe.

And that was the moment it started.

The moment you started noticing everything—the way his hands moved when he wrote, the way his voice had deepened over the years, the way he smelled when he leaned in too close to explain something.

And for the first time, you had no idea what to do about it.

Eren Yeager was attractive.

There was no way Eren Yeager was attractive.

You remembered too much.

The gummy worms. The nose-picking. The time he made you hold a whole funeral for a dead dung beetle and cried when you laughed during the eulogy. He used to name his pimples. He once declared war on an anthill in your backyard using nothing but a plastic sword and a spray bottle.

There was no way that same boy was attractive now.

And yet… your brain was glitching.

Because lately, it was like your eyes had a mind of their own.

You kept catching these stupid, sneaky little moments. Like when he pushed his glasses up with one finger while deep into some fantasy novel, and his forearm flexed just a little. Or the way his jaw would clench when he was focused—annoyed, even—and his voice would drop into this low, raspy thing that had no business being that attractive.

And don’t even get you started on how red he turned when that girl from the geek club bumped into him during lunch. The way he stammered, flustered and wide-eyed?

Yeah, it did something to you.

You blamed ovulation. Had to.

You did your best to keep it together after that. No more slip-ups, no more staring. You kept study sessions clean and calm and casual.

Except it wasn’t casual. Not really.

He’d laugh at your jokes—low and real—and it would make your stomach twist up like a knot. When had his voice gotten so rough?

But you still kept your cool as the sessions kept going. You kept pretending not to stare.

You kept acting normal. Mostly.

Until the day your math test got handed back.

A big, fat B+ stared up at you in bold red ink, and your whole body locked up. You passed. You passed math. And not by a miracle or extra credit—on your own (well, Eren’s help, but still).

“Looks like you get to stay on the squad after all,” your teacher said dryly.

You barely heard him. Your fingers were already flying across your screen.

YOU’RE A WIZARD, YEAGER. I PASSED.

Follow-up to the group chat: Practice is ON, bitches 💅🏽💖

You practically skipped out of class, light on your feet, adrenaline buzzing through your veins. You made it through practice in a haze of excitement, body still riding the high of not being a complete academic failure.

But afterward, when things slowed down and your heart rate evened out, one thought stuck with you.

You never properly thanked Eren.

So instead of heading home, you took a little detour.

Still in your cheer uniform—tight-fitting, skin glistening from the workout, your curls pulled into a high puff—you knocked on the Yeager front door. Miss Carla opened it, smiling like she’d known you since birth (because she had).

“Oh hey, sweetheart. He’s upstairs. Go ahead in—I was just on my way out.”

You blinked. “Oh, thanks, Miss Carla.”

She waved you off, keys jingling as she stepped outside. You toed off your sneakers and made your way up the familiar staircase.

The house was quiet.

When you opened Eren’s door—

You nearly flatlined.

He was at his desk, back turned to you, shirtless and in nothing but a pair of grey sweatshorts. Hair a mess, no glasses. Broad back. Long legs. Bare feet. He looked like someone ripped him straight out of a thirst trap TikTok.

You stood in the doorway like your brain had short-circuited.

Blamed it on ovulation again.

“You always walk around half-naked when you think you’re alone?” you said before your filter could catch up.

Eren jumped and spun around, wide-eyed. “Shit—! I didn’t hear you come in.”

Your gaze dipped before you could stop it. Grey shorts. Low waist.

He scratched the back of his neck, awkward. “You, uh… still in uniform?”

“Yeah,” you said, trying to sound chill. “Came from practice. Had to say thank you in person.”

“For…?” he asked, playing dumb.

You grinned, stepping fully into the room. “B+, baby. You did the impossible.”

His face lit up—pride and smugness blended perfectly. “Knew you could do it.”

You took a step closer. That’s when you noticed the chain around his neck. Something small and silver, catching the light just enough.

“…You still wear the key,” you murmured.

He glanced down, fingers brushing the pendant like he’d forgotten. “Oh. Yeah. Kinda just kept it on. It was our thing, right?”

You smiled softly. “Backyard adventures. I swore you were gonna dig up Atlantis.”

He laughed, and your heart flipped.

“Anyway,” he said, shrugging one shoulder, “I was just about to start this new anime. It’s probably dumb. You’re gonna say no, but—wanna stay and binge a few episodes?”

You blinked. He really didn’t think you’d say yes.

“Sure,” you said, slipping past him and climbing right into his bed like you belonged there. “I’ve got time.”

His eyes widened just a little, then he joined you, remote in hand.

As the show went on you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what it was about. It had action, it was animated, it was in Japanese but you couldn’t concentrate. Not when he was so close.

Not when his thigh was brushing yours. Not when he smelled like fresh soap and a hint of laundry detergent.

It got too quiet. Too tense.

So you spoke without thinking.

“You got a girlfriend I don’t know about?”

He turned, blinking. “What? No.”

“No chess club crushes?”

He snorted. “Nah. I don’t really… date.”

“Why not?”

He hesitated, then shrugged. “Dunno. No one’s interested. Plus…” He trailed off.

You nudged him. “Plus what?”

His eyes dropped for a second. “I’m still a virgin. Kinda embarrassing, I guess.”

Your stomach twisted. Not from shock—but from heat.

You licked your lips, voice low. “That’s not embarrassing.”

Eren laughed under his breath, nervously. “Says you. Pretty sure I heard you lost yours to that basketball guy in sophomore year.”

Your brow lifted. “You trying to call me out, Yeager?”

“What—no! I just meant—” He paused, struggling. “I didn’t think we’d still be friends once high school started. You became… you, and I figured I was just the weird nerd who’d eventually fade out.”

You frowned. “Eren. Your virginity doesn’t define our friendship.”

He ran a hand through his hair, visibly flustered. “I know. It just sucks. Eighteen, about to graduate, and I’ve never even—”

You didn’t let him finish.

You reached out gently, turned his face toward you.

“Eren.”

His breath hitched.

And you kissed him.

He didn’t pull away. His hands moved—unsure at first—one settling on your hip, the other fisting your cheer skirt.

When he kissed you back, it was like something snapped. He got hungrier, pulling you closer, his lips parting as he lost himself in it.

You broke away just enough to breathe, watching him like you were reading him.

He was breathless. Staring.

“Are you serious right now?” he asked, voice raw.

You climbed into his lap slowly, straddling him, your palms resting on his bare shoulders.

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

Eren’s hands settled on your waist like he was scared to hold you too tight—like you might vanish if he moved too fast. His fingers trembled, barely curling into the fabric of your uniform skirt.

“You’re not joking,” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

You shook your head slowly, brushing your nose against his. “No, baby. I’m not.”

His breath hitched again. His whole body was tense—eyes searching your face, lips parted, thighs rigid beneath you.

"This isn't cause I helped you with your test right?"

Your lips brushed his softly, nails dragging along his scalp. "Course not Ren, do you want me to stop?"

"No!" You giggled at his brashness, "You want me?"

He nodded. Too fast. Too eager. “Yeah—God, yeah. I just… I don’t wanna mess it up.”

Your heart melted at that.

“You won’t,” you promised, threading your fingers into his hair. “You can’t mess this up. I’m right here, Eren. I got you.”

He looked at you like you hung the damn moon. Like you were the first soft thing he’d ever been allowed to touch.

“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” he admitted, voice cracking, eyes glossy with nerves and want. “I’ve thought about it—so much—but I just…”

You smiled, brushing his hair out of his face.

“That’s okay. I know what I’m doing,” you whispered. “You just follow my lead, yeah?”

Your lips found his again, the kiss more urgent this time as you began grinding softly against him. His tongue felt warm in your mouth, a soft moan leaving your lips as he started to meet your thrusts.

His hands slid up, brushing over your hips, up your sides, under your top. Lips leaving yours as his hooded eyes looked up at you as if he was asking for your permission.

You nodded. “Go ahead, baby.”

His fingers began working on the claps of your bra, fumbling slightly until he finally managed to unhook it. Helping him, you pulled the bra out of your sleeve before guiding his hands to cup your breasts.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

You bit your lip softly as his thumb grazed your nipple ring, his eyes widened from the feeling causing you to giggle.

"You wanna see?" He nodded again, more eagerly than last time. You giggled, tugging your shirt over your head to give him a better view.

Eren looked at you like you were made out of gold, you were about to ask him if he wanted to continue, but his lips wrapped around your nipple, causing a soft gasp to leave your lips.

Your head tipped back as his mouth latched onto your nipple, warm and curious and just a little clumsy, but so eager it made your stomach flip.

“Fuck, Eren…” you breathed, threading your fingers into his hair, holding him there as his tongue flicked softly against the metal of your piercing. “Feels good, baby. You’re doing so good.”

He groaned like praise alone could make him cum, and honestly, it probably could.

His hands were still shaking a little, cupping your breasts like he was scared he’d break you, but the way his mouth moved—lips wrapping around one nipple while his thumb rubbed the other—had you rocking your hips against him, slow and steady, like you couldn’t help yourself.

Eren pulled back, panting, lips slick, eyes dark with want. “I wanna—” he swallowed thickly, voice low and cracking, “I wanna make you feel good.”

“You are,” you smiled, leaning down to kiss him. “But you wanna try something else?”

His hands slid down your waist, his fingers digging into your hips like he didn’t know what to do with the ache in his body. “I wanna… taste you.”

Your breath caught.

“You—yeah?”

He nodded, eyes flicking down to where your thighs straddled him. “I’ve watched so much porn with guys doing it, and I—I just kept wondering what you’d sound like. How you’d look. What you taste like. I wanna know so fucking bad.”

Your cunt clenched around nothing to how desperate he sounded. Like it was all he ever thought about.

“Okay,” you whispered, voice breathy. “You want me to sit on your face?”

His eyes widened. “C-Can you?

You giggled and kissed him again, softer this time. “Yeah, Ren. I can.”

You shifted off his lap, climbing up the bed as he adjusted beneath you, lying flat, hands already gripping your thighs with a desperation that sent shivers through you. He looked up at you like you were about to bless him.

You slowly slid your panties down, the fabric damp and sticking to your folds. His breath hitched the second he saw you.

“Oh my god…”

You hovered above his face, holding onto the headboard as his hands guided your thighs over his mouth. You hesitated—just a beat—but his voice was thick with need when he said, “Please.”

So you settled down, slowly, letting your heat brush over his lips. He moaned like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

His tongue flicked tentatively at first, then with more confidence, licking a long stripe through your folds before closing his mouth around your clit.

Your hips bucked, hands bracing against the wall. “Fuck, Eren—”

—your voice cracked, legs already shaking as his tongue circled your clit again and again with sweet, shaky precision.

He groaned beneath you, and the vibrations made your whole body jolt.

He was messy with it, desperate. Like he was trying to memorise the taste of you, the way you gasped, the way your thighs trembled around his head. He had zero finesse but made up for it with so much fucking enthusiasm that it didn’t even matter.

You gripped the headboard tighter, looking down to see him staring up at you—eyes glassy, pupils blown, tongue out and lips shining with your slick.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” you moaned, grinding against his mouth, slow and deep. “Just like that—don’t stop.”

And he didn’t. Eren latched onto your clit like it was his only job in life, hands locked around your thighs as he sucked and licked like a boy possessed. Every few seconds he moaned into you, the sound low and needy, like he was getting off just from the taste of you.

“Fuck, Ren—fuck, I’m gonna—” your hips started jerking on their own, thighs tensing around his head as heat coiled in your gut.

You cried out, cumming hard against his mouth, shaking, hips grinding desperately as he kept licking through your orgasm like he couldn’t stop.

You pulled yourself off with a breathless laugh, thighs trembling so bad you had to brace yourself against the wall just to crawl down his body again.

"Fuck, you taste amazing." His glasses were fogged up, pushed up against his face, chin still wet from your slick, fuck he looked beautiful like this.

"Wanna feel you now Renny, is that okay?" The brunette nodded, his hands pulling you down onto his clothed hard-on, your lips met his neck softly as your hands helped him shimmy out of his shorts and boxers. Eren whimpered as your bare cunt met the base of his cock, still grinding along him your hands pulled on his hair as your lips met his.

Your hand slid down his stomach and wrapped around his cock, and the way he whimpered made you throb all over again.

“You ready, baby?” you murmured, kissing his jaw, his cheek, his mouth.

He nodded, already panting. “Please. I—I need you.”

You reached down, guided him to your entrance, and slowly—so fucking slowly—you sank down onto him.

Eren cried out.

He grabbed your hips like he was trying not to lose his damn mind, eyes fluttering shut, head thrown back against the pillows.

“F-Fuck, you’re so warm—so wet—fuck, I’m gonna—”

You cupped his face, kissing him softly. “Shhh. Breathe, baby. Let me take care of you.”

You rocked your hips gently, moving slow, giving him time to adjust—but he still looked like he was barely holding on. His hands gripped your waist like he needed to anchor himself, chest heaving as he stared up at you like you were the center of the universe.

“Y-you feel so good,” he groaned. “I don’t—I don’t know how to—fuck.”

Your lips met his again, moaning into his mouth softly as you continued to bounce on his cock. His hands stayed planted underneath your skirt, fingers digging into the plush of your ass.

It’s okay,” you murmured. “I’ve already cum, Ren. Go ahead—pussy’s all yours.”

Eren moaned loud, head thrown back as his cock twitched inside you, warm release spilling deep as your walls fluttered around him, milking every drop. You kept moving, hips grinding to prolong his high, both of you shivering through the aftershocks.

You collapsed forward, nuzzling into his neck, still full of him, still warm and stretched and humming. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

"I know you said this wasn't because of the test, but, if I continue to help you study could you help me study?"

You giggled into his neck, "We can study as much as you want Renny."

#a sexy nerdy man gon do it for me every time!#this was so good omg

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