#eren jaeger

[empathicliar]

eren loves pussy. nothing more or nothing less. he loves looking at pussy, sliding his fingers through the folds to feel just how much his efforts have paid off. he loves kissing pussy. something about his lips touching everything puffy and sensitive has him grinding into the sheets, almost dragging an orgasm out of himself.

but most of all, eren yeager loves eating pussy. he loves massaging his long tongue onto your clit, flicking that muscle just enough for those gaspy moans to fall and a smirk he refuses to hide upturns on his lips. he loves holding you in place and watching your body fully submit to his. 

he absolutely adores the way you push him down when you get desperate and it feels almost impossible not to ride his face from below. he takes pride in making you feel good, so when it comes to you showing off some new panties you’d ordered from victoria's secret and that pussy print just keeps nagging at him, he’s losing it inside and out.

you pop the string on the side of your curvy hip and frown. “ i don't think i like the pink. “ you pout with doubt, assuming your husband would agree until that mirror is hogged with his body. 

head cocked beyond degrees and he’s just staring, eyes flushed over with hunger that can't be disdained by food. he’s craving you in every way it almost feels wrong for him to rub your body innocently.

 and now, he’s goneeee.

which isn't surprising considering he’s been eating your pussy through the seams of wink pinkie underwear for ten minutes, uttering “ too pretty to take off yet.” whenever you pleaded for more. those almond colored locks gained nothing but tugs the whole time he teased your body, spit on the mattress from his lack of morals. his chin wet with his own fluid and your arousal that kept pouring.

that lace rubs and nips and sometimes hurts a little too fucking good when eren pushes his head into your cunt, face almost completely covered from how tight your thighs hold him in. it's like he's proving a point down there, that he doesn't have to do much to get you off, that one flick can send you overboard, wanting more. -  that you may be easy when it comes to him.

and when you're too high off of pleasure to think, he can get you to admit that every. single. time.

[yeagersackerman]

homie brother hopper! | z.yeager

zeke yeager x fem!reader

!!: SMUT, vaginal sex, fingering, praise, slight degradation, zeke has a size kink, big dick!zeke, multiple orgasms, creampie, zeke’s been pining lol, use of pet names such as little one, baby, babe, slut, etc, use of Y/N, use of the word ‘daddy’, mention of eren x reader.

SYNOPSIS; you’re so sad after your boyfriend, eren, dumps you out of no-where, but you know his older brother is the only person who understands you and can make you feel better!

Knock, knock, knock!

Zeke furrowed his eyebrows at the sudden noise at his apartment door—he definitely wasn’t expecting anyone at this hour and in the horrific rain that poured outside. Glancing down at his watch as he approached the door, midnight shon back up at him. Who on Earth was at his door at this time of night?

“Who is it?” He called out, his voice low and intimidating, expecting anyone dangerous to soon flee at the sound of his gruff voice.

“Z-Zeke?”

The sound of your whimpering voice forced an eyebrow to shoot up on his face as he slid the lock open and pulled the door open.

And what a sight for sore eyes welcomed him as he did so.

His little brother, Eren’s, girlfriend was stood before him—hair soaked from the rain, dress see through and stuck to your shivering skin, eyes red and swollen as you pouted, sniffling loudly.

Zeke couldn’t help but smile as he leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms against his chest as he eyed you up and down.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Can I come in, please?” You ignored his question, eyes peering up at him from where you stood so small compared to him, a desperate yet disappointed look on your face.

Zeke knew he’d probably get in trouble for this considering you were his little brother’s girlfriend, but he swung the door open wider for you to enter, watching as you shuffled quietly inside his apartment.

You stood awkwardly in his living room, unsure on whether to place your damp body on his couch as you dripped droplets onto his carpet.

“‘M sorry for coming unannounced.” You squeaked out, your voice shaky as he stared at you intently, “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Zeke cocked his head at your words—was Eren not one of those people? His mind worked rapidly as he attempted to figure you out as you shivered heavily, your teeth chattering loudly.

“Wait there.”

You did as you were told—not moving a muscle as Zeke exited your view, padding towards his room. The room fell silent as you eyed up your surroundings—you’d only ever been to Zeke’s apartment a handful of times with Eren when they wanted to hang out, but you enjoyed being here. Zeke kept everywhere neat and tidy in his space, unlike Eren’s messy and disorganised apartment which stunk of weed and smoke, unlike the fresh, baby powder smell and expensive cologne that rang through the room.

“Here.”

You jumped, not expecting the tall blonde to have returned so quickly as you pondered. Zeke stared down at you with a small smile as he extended a large, white, fluffy towel towards your shaking frame.

Sighing happily, you accepted his offer and wrapped the warm material around your body, relief filling your system at the change of temperature.

“And a shirt and some sweats I found. They’ll be massive on you but better that than what you’re in currently.” Zeke joked, placing the pile of clothes on his coffee table next to you.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, as your eyes flicked from the clothes to your brother-in-law, “Will you turn around for me?”

“Oh, sorry, yeah, of course.” Zeke rotated his body, now facing his kitchen as you giggled.

You slipped the wet dress from your cold body, along with your bra and panties, feeling suddenly embarrassed that you were now naked in your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s apartment in the middle of the night.

Unbeknownst to you due to your naiveness to the layout of Zeke’s apartment, the kitchen window provided a perfect mirror in the dark night to which your naked frame could be seen. Luckily for you, only an outline of your nakedness could be seen, for if it could’ve, Zeke’s cock would’ve grown fully hard, now only resting half-hard and twitching at the sight.

“You can turn around now.” You informed him, Zeke doing as he was told, his eyes falling on your frame being drowned by his clothes, “Thank you, again.”

Zeke shushed you, “It’s no problem at all—anything for my little brother’s girl.”

The mention of Eren sent a pang of sadness to your chest as you were sorely reminded of the horrible evening you just had. Your lip wobbled, eyes brimming with tears as thoughts of your day clouding your mind.

Zeke didn’t take your sudden silence unnoticed—he eyed you up as he watched as a single tear. slipped from your eyes. Your hands flew to your face, covering it as you sighed loudly into your palms, taking a seat on his couch abruptly.

Zeke debated just staying where he was—but, he couldn’t leave a pretty girl on his couch in distress.

He took a firm seat next to you—arm resting on the back of the couch as he got comfy, admiring your hunched over frame, “Talk to me.”

The comforting words shot straight through your heart as it thumped against your chest, suddenly feeling ready to rant away as he confirmed his willingness to listen.

“He dumped me.”

The words shocked Zeke as they left your wobbling lips. He knew his little brother was prone to playing around with girls for his personal gain, but you were only one to last this long—a year to be exact. He truly thought Eren had fallen for you—he changed for you; took you on dates, bought you flowers, paid for your expenses like your nail and hair appointments, took care of you like a proper boyfriend. Something he’d never done for other girls—but, now he had you acting like all the others.

“Oh, Y/N.” Zeke mumbled, “I really am sorry.”

He hated the way he felt like he was lying. Zeke had always liked you the most—more than any other girl Eren was entertaining. You were by far the most beautiful, and sweet, too, which made you more desirable than some of the other nasty bitches Eren had introduced to him. You were loyal, caring and extremely loveable—but, ready to protect your man no matter what the cost. Zeke also loved the way you would do absolutely anything for his brother, which by extension, meant him, too. He’ll never forget on his birthday, when Eren dropped by to give Zeke his gifts, you were there too.

“Happy Birthday, Zeke!” You exclaimed, a pretty smile on your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck, on your tip-toes as you hugged him.

Your hug took Zeke by surprise, his hands reluctantly snaking around your waist to return the hug, trying to ignore the way your breasts pressed perfectly against his chest as a waft of your delicious perfume hit his nose.

“Let the man breathe, babe.” Eren’s low voice from the couch forced you back to your normal height, an embarrassed blush spread across your cheeks.

“Sorry, Zeke.” You mumbled, toying with the hem of your skimpy, short dress.

“‘S alright—come on in.”

You did as he told you and shuffled inside the apartment, taking a seat next to Eren, on the edge of the couch. Zeke noticed you always did this—whether you were in the comfort of your own apartment, at a party with them both or even at a restaurant—you always stayed perched on the edge of your seat, almost begging to be asked to assist your boyfriend. So desperate to care for him and do anything he asked of you—it made Zeke admire you so much more.

“Y/N, grab me and Zeke a beer, will you?” Eren asked, planting a loving hand to your thigh before you shot up from your seat, heading towards the kitchen.

“‘S okay, I’ll grab ‘em—I’m up anyways.” Zeke decided.

“No, don’t worry, Zeke, I’ll get them for you.” You beamed up at him as you walked past him, the smell of your fruity shampoo filling his nose, inciting a twitch in his cock in his suddenly tight boxers.

Zeke sighed breathily as he took a seat next to his brother as he flicked between channels, settling on a sports game he couldn’t focus on as he watched you pop two beers open with your teeth—the simple act bringing a bead of aroused sweat to his forehead.

“There ya go, baby.” You spoke, handing your boyfriend his beer as his eyes stayed fixated on the TV, offering you a quick ‘Thanks’, before you turned to him, “And for the birthday boy.”

“Thanks, Y/N. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

Jesus.

Your obedience must make Eren feral—he loved that in a girl. Clearly it ran in the family as Zeke was biting his lip in order to stop himself getting so hard he’d have to kick his brother out the room and get himself in trouble.

Zeke snapped back into reality, pushing the memories of his birthday to back of his mind as he eyed you.

Your silence pushed him to speak more, “Did he say why?”

You scoffed, lifting your head from your hands, “Apparently I’m too needy. What a joke!” You exclaimed, “He said he needs space and that I need to leave him alone for a while.” You laugh angrily, “Personally, I think it’s just an excuse to go fuck someone else.”

Zeke didn’t want to lie to you—but, you were probably right. Eren probably got cold feet at how far you’d gotten in your relationship that he kicked back into his old ways by default—a creature of habit, as they say.

“Unfortunately, Eren’s always been this way.” Zeke explained, lolling his head to the side, “But, you’re different, Y/N, I can tell. He’ll come running back once he’s realised he’s being an asshole.”

You giggled at his insults, “Yeah, he sure is an asshole.” You fell silent once again, your face dropping back to a frown, “Do you think he’s fucking anyone else?”

Zeke pursed his lips into a line, unsure of what to do. He didn’t know whether to shield your good heart from the harsh truth or be honest with you.

He sighed loudly, pulling his glasses off his face, rubbing the frames on his shirt, and placing them back on the bridge of his nose in silence, “No, I don’t.”

You frowned further, turning to face him with a pout, “You hesitated, Zeke. Please don’t lie to me.”

Now, Zeke didn’t know for certain Eren was sleeping with anyone else. But, due to his previous actions, he knew it wasn’t unlikely.

You pouted further at his silence—feeling suddenly nervous. On the other hand, Zeke tried to contain his smirk at your face, he loved you like that. All pouty and sad—you looked so cute when you were upset.

“I’m not, little one,” He informed you, reaching up to pull on your bottom lip; the nickname raising a blush to your face as you smiled against his fingers, “There’s that pretty smile—that’s what I like to see.” His words forced your smile to widen, “I don’t wanna see these pouting again, okay?” He told you, swiping his thumb across your lips.

“Yes, Zeke.”

Your willingness to be so obedient pushed the tent in his trousers to grow even bigger than when he was pervertedly watching you through the window.

“Come here.” Zeke whispered, opening his arms wide, “Come give your brother-in-law a hug.”

You bit back from telling him that he was no longer your brother-in-law, but you didn’t care anymore, only retreating from the edge of the couch and into Zeke’s side, snuggling your head into his chest as you curled up into a ball next to him. His hands wrapped around you, one rubbing your arm comfortingly, and the other playing with your wet locks, twirling it around his fingers playfully, which he knew you loved.

So much so, that you let out a relaxed moan, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling, snuggling deeper into him, your manicured hands resting gently on his t-shirt. Zeke mentally cursed himself as his eyes rolled back at the sound of your enjoyment—your quiet moans and hums of pleasure filling his ears.

“Oh, Zeke, that feels so good,” You whispered as his fingers scratched at your scalp, the seemingly innocent words of praise you gave him sending shockwaves of arousal to his cock as it twitched desperately in his boxers, begging to be dealt with.

“Yeah? You like that?” He was almost teasing himself by adding another sexual innuendo to the mix, continuing to scratch your head, his fingers curled in your hair.

“Mmm, yeah. So good, baby.”

Your eyes shot open at the nickname that left your mouth unwillingly. You gasped quietly as his hands fell from your hair, now resting so close to your ass as you sat up, hands covering your mouth in shock, trying to ignore the way he smirked devilishly.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I said that.” You mumbled against your warm skin, swallowing thickly.

Zeke chuckled, pressing a large hand on your back, rubbing his hand up and down the soft surface, “‘S alright. I didn’t mind it.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words—he didn’t mind it? At you calling him ‘baby’? You cocked an eyebrow at him, lolling your head to the side in confusion.

“Come on, Y/N. You can’t be that oblivious?”

Zeke’s words rang loudly in your head as his big hands trailed around your body, pulling you back closer to him, one now resting on the comforts of your clothed thigh.

“W-What do you mean?” You questioned, nearly trembling at the anticipation as his palm trailed your thigh dangerously slow, your chest rising and falling quicker than you’d care for.

“You know,” His voice was low and gruff, even his whisper sounding manly, “You’ve always been my favourite girl he’s ever been with.”

Your thighs instinctively rubbed together at the praise, crushing his hand in the process, bringing his attention towards your need for friction. Zeke couldn’t help but smirk at your poor attempt at some action, chuckling lowly as he pushed your legs open.

“He’s so mean, isn’t he? Leaving you all lonely and desperate for some love, hm?” Zeke spoke, running a teasing finger up and down the inside of your thigh, testing the waters, as he peered over the tops of his glasses down at you.

Your pearly white teeth were sunk deeply into your bottom lip, once jutting out in sadness, now sucked into your pretty little mouth in excitement as you nodded up at him. One of your hands gripped the side of his shirt as his thick fingers teased you.

“Zeke, please.”

Your desperate, whiny voice shot a spark of arousal between Zeke’s legs, his mouth falling slightly slack-jawed as he eyed your face—your eyebrows twitching in anticipation.

“Please what, little one?”

“Please touch me, Zeke, please, wanna feel you.” Your pleas of pleasure were enough for Zeke to push his joggers off your body and to the floor, pushing your exposed legs open, revealing your bare pussy—slick and throbbing as his hand hovered over you.

He wasted no time in sliding his fingers between your folds, a small gasp pushing past your lips as you both eyed his fingers gathering slick on his digits. Before he killed you from anticipation, he slipped two long fingers into your hole, revelling in the way you whined loudly. His fingers soon picked up a pace as he hummed happily to himself at the feeling of your ever-growing slick collecting at the base of his fingers and dripping down his knuckles.

“You’re so wet, little one, all from one touch? So fucking slutty.”

The derogatory term only forcing a blush onto your cheeks as Zeke hit the spongy sweet spot inside you that had you moaning his name in the air, arching your back off the couch. Zeke pushed your leg, repositioning you so your back rested against his chest, as he pushed his shirt up your body, revealing your perky breasts.

You couldn’t help but mewl out loud, your body writhing on top of him as he curled his fingers inside you, abusing your G-spot, as his other hand pulled and palmed your nipples, adding to the intense pleasure that surged through your body. Zeke released his fingers from your twitching cunt, ignoring your huff of disappointment, only to be replaced with a cry of pleasure as he strummed your clit feverishly.

It only took a dozen seconds before the coil in your stomach twisted and turned in excitement. ready to snap, “Z-Zeke, ‘m close!”

“Already? You really did need your brother-in-law to make you feel better, huh?” He teased, his voice as slick as satin in your ear as your hole clenched around nothing.

“Mhm, needed you, Zeke, need you to make me cum!” You whined, lolling your head back on his shoulder, panting like a bitch in heat.

“If my little brother hadn’t broken your little heart tonight, I would make you earn the right to cum on my fingers.” He whispered, his beard tickling your ear as goosebumps rose on your skin, “But, since you’re such a desperate little slut who needs some love, I’ll let you cum just this once.”

Your toes curled as you could almost taste your orgasm, stars forming in your eyes as you neared your finish, “Yes, yes, yes, please, Zeke, please, daddy!”

“Oh, daddy, now, am I?” He chuckled, adding extra pressure to your clit as he rubbed concentrated circles to your throbbing nub, “You dirty girl.”

His filthy words were enough to send you over the edge—Zeke having to hold you against his warm body as you twitched and writhed as your orgasm thrashed you around, your whole body consumed with pleasure as you creamed for him, crying his name out loud.

Zeke didn’t fuck around when it came to a pretty girl cumming for him—before you’d even finished cumming he was pushing his joggers down to his ankles and rolling you onto your back, whimpering and crying for him.

You soon whined in annoyance as his fingers slid back inside your creamy sex, huffing and puffing in disappointment. Pulling on his waistband, you fucked yourself on his fingers, trying to quicken your pace as he scissored his fingers inside you.

“Gotta stretch you out, baby.” He informed you, pressing a kiss to your ankle as he held your legs apart, “Gotta make sure I don’t ruin you.”

“But, what if I want you to?”

Fucking hell.

Zeke could’ve cum from your words as he bit back a groan of excitement, his cock practically begging to be touched.

“Please, Zeke, wanna feel you so bad. Want you to fill me up, better than he can.”

That was enough for Zeke. He pulled his achingly hard cock from his boxers, tip angry and red and leaking pre-cum—he was so fucking horny he couldn’t see straight.

You were in awe at the sight of his dick—so long, and thick, you were sure he was twice the size of Eren. Eren was big, sure, but Zeke was huge. No wonder he wanted to prep you.

“Not regretting turning down my offer to stretch you now, are you?” He teased, prodding his tip at your entrance as he gathered your slick over his length, jerking it over himself, as you ogled at his cock.

You shook your head, your heart thudding in your ears as Zeke pushed his glasses up his nose before pushing your legs further apart, in a V-shape, before pushing his tip past your thick lips. Strings of curses and moans left your lips as he pushed further inside you—his cock moulding your walls to the perfect fit as he bullied his way towards your cervix.

“So fuckin’ tight, shit. Let me in, little one.”

His hips reached your ass as you heaved, your eyes squeezed shut when he bottomed out. Zeke swallowed thickly, his dick twitching as you clenched around him. He’d never felt pussy this tight and wet before—a memory of Eren telling him how good your pussy was filled his head.

Zeke slowly pulled out of you, only his mushroom-headed tip staying inside you as you whined at the loss of fullness, before he snapped his hips forward—filling you back up again with a grunt. He let go of your legs briefly, letting them fall, before you wrapped them around his waist, pushing him further into you using your heel. The sound of your needy whines and cries of his name, along with the slapping of his already tightening balls against your ass filled the room.

“So full of you, Zeke!” You cried, your nails dragging down his back as his tip kissed your cervix with each stroke, earning a groan into your shoulder as he licked and sucked at the skin of your neck, “‘S so fucking big!”

“Yeah, take it, baby, take my big cock like the good sister-in-law you are.” Zeke whined into your neck, licking a stripe up to your ear lobe, “Such a good girl.”

Zeke couldn’t believe he was doing this. The distant thought of his little brother pushed to the back of his mind as you squeezed him so perfectly and moaned his name like your life depended on it.

“Jesus Christ,” He mumbled as he sat up, his pace never faltering as he pushed a large hand on your tummy, groaning at the way he felt his fat cock ramming you through your warm skin, “So fucking little compared to my big cock, huh? Your little pussy’s struggling to take me, isn’t she?”

You nodded frantically—tears pouring from your eyes, now from pure pleasure instead of sadness, “Mhmm, but—aah! but, she loves your f-fucking big dick, daddy!”

You were fucking insatiable—so greedy for cock it made him so unbelievably hard. He panted heavily as he pulled one of your legs over his shoulder, deepening his stroke, upping your moans another octave as you were practically screaming at his pace.

“Fucking needed this little pussy for so long.” He admitted, feeling his orgasm approaching quicker than any other girl he had sex with. Your tight pussy and fucked out face pushing him over the edge.

He reached between your bodies, his fingers crawling down your stomach to your folds, rubbing circles against your clit. Your moans picked up again, throwing your head back against the couch, your nails digging into his back even further, stirring Zeke on.

“‘M so close!” You cried, threading your fingers through his blonde hair as you pressed your hot, sticky from sweat tits against his heaving chest as he abused your sensitive nub.

“I know, baby, come on. Give to me, give it to daddy.” He purred, pressing hot-mouthed pecks to your lips as you whimpered against his mouth.

“Always loved you Zeke—mhm! Always wanted you inside me.” You cried as your second orgasm of the night hit you like a truck, your back arching into him as you came, “Always thought about you when he fucked me!”

Zeke couldn’t hold on any longer—the sound of you admitting you loved him and that you thought of him while Eren fucked you had him spilling himself inside you. He collapsed slightly on top of you, holding himself up slightly on his elbows as his pace slowed down ever so slightly as he groaned loudly, panting like a dog as he pushed his load deeper inside you, ruining your pussy into a sloppy mess just as you asked.

You both panted against one another, the smell of sex clouding the air as you swallowed thickly, a blush forming on your face as the memories of the past half hour flooded your brain.

Zeke was first to move as he slowly slipped his softening cock from your twitching walls, a rim of white, milky mess coating his cock. He watched with a smile as his cum dribbled from your entrance onto his couch—he couldn’t even bring himself to care as his eyes landed on your perfect body; sweaty, hair still wet yet messy, flushed cheeks and a cum-filled pussy all just for him.

“Come on, little one.” He tapped your thigh, eliciting a jump of surprise from your weak body, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Zeke fulfilled his older brother-in-law duties as he cleaned your tired body, wiping the sweat and cum from your body as you slumped against him in the bathroom while he pressed loving kisses to any part of your body he could. He dressed you in his attire once again, only managing to get his t-shirt over your body as you refused to lift your aching legs, earning a laugh of pride from Zeke as his ego etched further up the scale.

Knock, knock, knock!

Zeke furrowed his eyebrows from the couch, like he did a few hours prior at your presence at the door as you cuddled up next to him. Zeke, now smirking at the idea that crept up into his brain, looked down at you.

“Would you get the door for me, little one?” He asked, testing your obedience, like his brother once did.

You shot up abruptly, your ass flashing him from underneath the large t-shirt as you edged towards the door, attempting to flatten your frizzy hair as Zeke chuckled at you as you opened the door.

“Hey, bro, I need to talk to you, me and Y/N broke—Y/N?”

Your eyes widened as you stood before your ex-boyfriend, a confused and shocked expression plastered on your face as your half-naked body, messy hair and hickey-covered neck greeted him like a fat slap in the face.

Zeke stood up from the couch, sauntering to the door, “Hey, little brother!” He waved, smiling happily despite the situation at hand, already chuckling at the joke he was about to make, “You know Y/N, right?”

i heart the yeager brothers

[fleuren21]

the guy who said "don't catch feelings ok we're just hooking up" after you tell him you went on a date

[abdy19]

Once again, I say that Eren's mind must be the worst place to be, poor man.

I am so very late to this, I know.

But we finally know exactly why Eren had such a horrified expression after unlocking some of Grisha’s memories during that ceremony.

I always thought it was an angry reaction to Frieda/King Fritz choosing to doom his own people. But it was actually horror.

Because not only did he realize, yet again, that men are their own enemies, they will kill each other and sometimes, in their world, it is the only way to change things ー and for Eren, sacrifices of this kind have always been hard to accept. He also actually experienced the sensation of crushing children with his own hands.

And I wonder if this is the only memory he unlocked at the time. I wonder if, later on, he hasn’t seen and felt, through Kruger’s memories, how it is to torture someone, to skin people alive. To be tortured, through Grisha’s memories.

I don’t think anyone in the snk cast can fully understand how much rage, and sorrow, and pain, and horror he must have felt…and still be feeling, because of how inevitable everything looks to him, who has experienced at least three cycles of this hell. No wonder he is so dead set on ending things during the time he has left.

[cadriox]

Doodles

[lowryuk]

HELLO! I saw that you’re doing requests now😍

Could I get a ex!bf eren x reader who’s about to get married? But she’s getting married to someone who’s like… useless. No job, no education, nothing really going for him. You’re just in a rush to get married because you believe it’s the next step but when eren comes back into your life, everything changes.

Thank you!

(Also could I be 🪿 anon?)

First request and first anon emoji?! Say less 😩🙏

Hope you enjoy, 🪿 anon <3

OTW

WC: 3.5K

tw: rough sex, cheating, possessive!eren, choking, dirty talk, fingering, toxic relationship, oral (f receiving), angst

Today was the day you’d dreamed of since you were a little girl.

Months of meticulous planning, dress shopping, vendor drama, flower arrangements, and all the wedding stress—it was supposed to be worth it. Your wedding day was meant to be one of the best days of your life, a celebration of two people coming together, ready to build a future.

Your fiancé was a great guy. He was sweet, charismatic, and came from a wonderful family. On paper, everything seemed perfect. In your mind, this felt like the natural next step, marriage, a family home, kids, a stable 9-5 job. You were on the right path. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

Yet, no matter how many times you repeated it in your head, it still felt wrong. Because it was wrong. 

Your fiancé could barely hold down a job and had no ambition to further his education or build a stable career. Instead, he dreamed of making it as a streamer. He poured thousands of dollars into equipment while you carried the weight of all the financial responsibilities.

Fuck.

Fucking Eren Yeager.

Always showing up at the worst possible time.

Where was this logic when you said yes to your fiancé’s proposal? How did it take you until now, after everything had been paid for, with only an hour left before you walked down the aisle—to finally realize the truth?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Was it too late to back out now? Your hair and makeup were already done, the final step was slipping into the dress. But you couldn’t. You fucking couldn’t. The thought of stepping into that gown, walking down that aisle, and tying yourself to this life made your chest tighten. You didn’t want this. Not with him.

Or were you just overthinking because Eren was here?

Because one single text from him was all it took to unravel everything. A few words on a screen, and suddenly, your entire perspective on your relationship shifted. You should have blocked him. Maybe then, your heart wouldn’t be sinking with dread and doubt right now. But old habits never die, and Eren Yeager was the worst one of them all.

He was your on-and-off boyfriend, the bad habit you could never quite break. The two of you were stuck in a toxic cycle, one that always left you shattered by the end of it. No matter how many times you tried to walk away, you somehow always found your way back to him.

Until two years ago.

You finally cut contact, determined to move on for good. It didn’t take long before you found yourself in a new relationship, one that felt stable, safe, and predictable. A little over a year in, your fiancé proposed, and you said yes.

Eren didn’t find out about the engagement until a week before the wedding. You had practically begged your mutual friends to keep quiet, knowing exactly what he would do if he found out. Because no one knew Eren Yeager better than you. And if there was one thing about him, it was that he never let go of something he still considered his.

You heard that he tried to move on, that he tried to heal and become better. But relationships never seemed to work out for him. No matter how hard he tried, nothing ever stuck.

So when he found out about your engagement and realized your wedding was only a week away, he scoffed. What a fucking joke.

You hated to admit it, but it wasn’t Eren’s reaction you were afraid of. The real reason you never wanted him to find out was because of your reaction. Because the moment he came back into your life, all those feelings you worked so hard to bury would come flooding back, drowning you in something you thought you had left behind. It drove you crazy. Because marriage, commitment, a future, you couldn’t imagine it with anyone but him.

You tried everything to move on. Therapy, long talks with friends, convincing yourself that this new relationship was what you needed. But deep down, you knew the truth. If Eren came back, if he reached out even once, you wouldn’t be strong enough to resist. You would run straight back into his arms because no matter how much time had passed, that was the only place you had ever truly belonged. 

–

Eren wasn’t going to miss your wedding. Of course not.

You weren’t just some ex-girlfriend he could forget. You were the biggest part of his life, the one person who knew him better than anyone, the one he loved in a way that was all-consuming. His first love, his greatest mistake, his one true obsession. And call him the villain if you want, but he wasn’t about to let you walk down that aisle without a fight.

Because you didn’t belong to that man. You belonged to him.

And he knew, deep in his bones, that you wanted him too.

How? 

Because when his message was marked as delivered, when you didn’t block his number, when you didn’t ignore him like you should have, he knew. You could have deleted it, tossed your phone aside, pretended he didn’t exist. But you didn’t.

You read it.

And that was all he needed.

A slow smirk curled on his lips as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lazily against his phone. You were probably staring at the screen right now, heart racing, pulse hammering, torn between doing what was right and what you really wanted. He had seen it all before. The guilt. The hesitation. The battle between logic and desire. But in the end, you always came back to him.

He exhaled, his green eyes wandering the cathedral. If you weren’t going to come to him, he would come to you.

So why wait?

Eren stood, adjusting his suit and tie, smoothing out the fabric because he wanted to look good for you. With quiet, purposeful steps, he made his way toward the back rooms, slipping past the crowd with ease. He knew exactly where you were.

And you knew he was coming.

The gentle knock at the door sent a shiver down your spine. You didn’t need to ask who it was. You knew.

Your fingers curled against your dress, gripping the soft material as if it could somehow anchor you. If you let him in, this was over before it even began. The wedding. The life you had planned. The man waiting for you at the end of that aisle.

And if someone caught you?

You squeezed your eyes shut, inhaling sharply, willing yourself to resist. But then, his voice pierces through, low and familiar, the sound wrapping around you like a ghost from your past.

“Can I come in?”

Your breath hitched.

And before you could stop yourself, you were already standing. 

You opened the door, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

Eren’s breath hitched, his green eyes softening as he took you in. You looked breathtaking, the white dress hugging you perfectly, the veil framing your face like you were something holy. He had dreamed of seeing you like this one day, but not like this. Not when he wasn’t the one waiting at the end of that aisle.

He hadn’t expected to get emotional, but seeing you standing there, dressed as a bride, made his head spin. This was real. Too fucking real. He was an hour away from losing you forever.

He could barely maintain eye contact when he muttered, “Don’t.”

One word. Simple. But it was enough to make your throat tighten, enough for tears to well up in your eyes.

“Eren, I can’t,” you whispered, shaking your head, trying to steady yourself.

“Don’t say that,” he pleaded, stepping closer, his voice rough with desperation. “You can. You know you don’t want this. Don’t do something you’re going to regret, something that’s going to hurt both of us. Listen to your heart for once.”

You let out a bitter laugh, wiping at your eyes. “Fuck you. How many times have I listened to my heart, only to get hurt over and over again because of you?”

His jaw clenched, but he didn’t back down. “It beats being tied to someone you don’t even remotely like for the rest of your life, doesn’t it?” His voice lowered, dangerously steady. “Because you can’t stand there and tell me you don’t feel anything. You wouldn’t have opened this door if you didn’t.”

Eren never let you bullshit him. He saw right through you, every single time.

He exhaled sharply, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “Tell me. Do I have to sit there and watch you marry another man? Or are we getting the fuck out of here?”

Your heart pounded so hard it hurt.

You knew the answer before you even spoke.

“Let’s go.”

–

Eren’s lips were glued to yours as the elevator ascended, the weight of everything you had just done crashing down on you both. The kiss was frantic, messy, filled with a desperation that neither of you could suppress. It was like you had been drowning for the past two years, and now, finally, you could breathe again.

His hands roamed your body, gripping your waist like he was terrified you would disappear, like this was all some fever dream that would slip through his fingers if he let go. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until you were completely lost in him.

The elevator chimed, the doors sliding open, but neither of you moved. Not until Eren finally tore himself away, chest heaving, pupils blown wide with something unrestrained.

“Come on,” he murmured, voice low and thick with want.

He didn’t have to ask twice.

Fingers laced together, he pulled you down the hall, fumbling with the keycard until the door swung open. And the second it shut behind you, he was on you again, lips claiming yours like he had every right to. 

His hands tore at your dress, fabric splitting beneath his grip as he ripped it apart from the top. If you were in your right mind, you would have yelled at him for it. But right now, you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was being closer to him.

The ruined dress slipped from your body, pooling at your feet, leaving you bare except for the white lingerie beneath. The moment Eren laid eyes on you, his breath hitched. His gaze darkened, pupils blown wide with desire.

“Fuck me,” he rasped, dragging a rough hand over his mouth as if to contain himself. “You were gonna give all this to him? Hmm? He wouldn’t even know what to do with you.”

His words sent a wicked thrill down your spine, but before you could respond, his lips crashed into your neck, hot and possessive. His tongue flicked against your skin, followed by sharp nips that made your head tilt back with a gasp. He sucked until he left deep purple splotches blooming along your throat and collarbone, evidence of his claim.

Large hands slid down to knead your ass, squeezing as he pulled your body flush against his. Then, just as quickly, he lifted you into his arms, carrying you toward the bed. The softness of the mattress barely registered before his weight caged you beneath him.

As much as he loved the sight of you in delicate white lace, he couldn’t wait to see you bare. His fingers made quick work of your bralette, unclasping it with ease. The moment the fabric slid away, exposing your breasts, Eren groaned, his head dropping for a moment as if the sight physically weakened him.

“Eren,” you whined, tugging at his tie, your nails grazing his chest through his half-unbuttoned shirt. “Take it off.”

The way you pouted, eyes round and pleading, made something snap inside him.

“Yeah?” His smirk was lazy, teasing, but his fingers worked fast, yanking at the knot of his tie before hastily unbuttoning his shirt. He barely had the patience to shrug it off because he knew how desperate you were to touch him, and fuck, he was just as desperate to feel you.

Eren barely got his shirt off before your hands were on him, raking over the ridges of his stomach, tracing the deep lines of his abs. He was so fucking warm, muscles tense beneath your fingertips like he was barely holding himself back. But you didn’t want him to hold back.

“Eren,” you murmured, nails digging into his skin.

He groaned, low and deep, before crashing his lips back onto yours, kissing you like he was starving. His tongue slid against yours, claiming, demanding, as his hands roamed lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of your lace panties.

“You know,” he muttered against your mouth, “I should make you beg for it.”

You whined in protest, arching into him, but he only chuckled, slow and dangerous.

“Yeah?” His fingers trailed teasingly along the inside of your thigh, barely there, not nearly enough. “You want me to take them off?”

“Yes,” you breathed, legs shifting restlessly.

His lips brushed against your jaw, then lower, over the marks he’d left on your throat, and still, his fingers didn’t move any higher. “Use your words, baby.”

You huffed, frustration curling in your stomach. “Eren, please.”

His grip tightened suddenly, possessive, like he loved hearing you beg. “That’s my girl.”

And then, with one smooth motion, he ripped the lace away. A gasp left your lips, half-shock, half-anticipation, but Eren only groaned in satisfaction, sliding his palm over your now bare skin.

“Fuck,” he muttered, green eyes locking onto yours. “Look at you.”

Before you could respond, his mouth was on you again, lips and tongue tracing fire down your body, taking his time, savoring every inch of you like you were something to be worshipped.

His fingers dipped into you, sinking past the tight resistance of your walls, and your back arched instinctively, a sharp gasp slipping from your lips. The stretch had your thighs trembling, pleasure crackling through your nerves like fire.

“Fuck,” Eren groaned, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “So fucking tight. His dick didn’t stretch you out like mine, did it?”

You barely had the mind to shake your head before he slid in another finger, the added pressure making you whimper. His thumb found your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles that had your stomach tensing.

A broken moan escaped you, but before it could fill the room, Eren pulled his fingers out and shoved them between your lips. “Suck.”

You obeyed without hesitation, swirling your tongue around them, tasting yourself as your gaze locked onto his. His pupils were blown, lips parted as he watched you, completely transfixed.

“Good girl,” he muttered, voice thick with arousal.

Before you could process the praise, he lowered himself between your thighs, spreading them wider as he settled in. His breath ghosted over your slick heat, and then his mouth was on you.

The first flick of his tongue made your entire body jolt, and when he latched onto your clit, swirling, sucking, teasing, you couldn’t stop the way your hips bucked against his face.

“Eren,” you gasped, fingers flying to his hair, tugging, holding on for dear life as he devoured you.

He groaned into you, the vibrations making you shudder, and before you knew it, you were falling apart, pleasure cresting over you in waves. Your body tightened, back arching off the bed as his name spilled from your lips like a prayer.

Eren pulled away, lips glistening, but he didn’t give you a moment to recover. He was already getting up, hands moving in a rush. His belt clattered to the floor, pants shoved down just enough before he was on you again.

His cock dragged against your entrance, teasing, tip slick with your release, and you whimpered, hips shifting, chasing the fullness you knew was coming.

Eren smirked at your desperation, but he didn’t keep you waiting. With one slow, deliberate push, he sank inside, stretching you inch by inch until he was fully seated.

You swore you could pass out.

It had been two years since you’d been filled like this, since someone had reached this deep, and your body clenched around him like it never wanted to let go.

Eren didn’t give you a second to adjust. There was no patience, no teasing this time. He pulled out almost entirely before slamming back in, punching a gasp straight from your throat.

Your body jolted with the force of it, nails digging into his biceps as he set a brutal pace, each thrust knocking the breath out of you.

“Fuck—” you choked, toes curling as the head of his cock dragged against that spot deep inside you, the one that made your vision blur.

Eren only growled in response, his grip tightening as he forced your body to take every ruthless stroke. One hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing it, keeping you exactly where he wanted. The other dug into your waist, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise, as if he was afraid you’d slip away.

“Look at you,” he rasped, his voice rough, wrecked. “Taking me so fucking well. This pussy was made for me.”

Your walls clenched around him at his words, and he smirked like he felt it.

“Yeah?” His pace stuttered for just a second, just enough to make you whine, before he rammed into you even harder, making the bed creak beneath you. “You like that? You like being fucked like you’re mine?”

You didn’t answer, you couldn’t. Your moans were all he got, loud and desperate as pleasure built inside you, white-hot and unrelenting.

Eren leaned in, lips brushing your ear, his breath heavy and uneven. “Say it.”

You shook your head, stubborn even now, but he only chuckled darkly, his thumb pressing against your clit, rubbing tight circles that made your whole body seize.

“Say it,” he demanded again, voice dropping, dripping with possession. “Or I don’t let you come.”

You let out a broken whimper, so close you could taste it, pleasure teetering on the edge of unbearable. He kept moving, hips snapping against yours, cock driving so deep it felt like he was splitting you open.

“Say it,” Eren repeated, voice softer this time but no less dangerous, lips skimming your jaw as he fucked into you, relentless.

And when you finally broke, when the pleasure coiled too tight to fight it anymore, you gasped it out, barely above a whisper.

“Yours. I’m yours, Eren! Fuck–” 

A groan tore from his throat, and his hips slammed into you with a new, desperate force, like he was trying to fuck the claim deeper, brand it into your bones.

“That’s right,” he growled, breath ragged, his fingers tightening around your throat. “You’re mine. This pussy—” he punctuated it with a brutal thrust, making you cry out, “—mine. Say it again.”

Your body shook beneath him, legs trembling, but you didn’t hesitate this time.

“Yours,” you gasped, fingers clawing at his back, trying to anchor yourself to something, anything, as he wrecked you. “Eren, I’m yours.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, his pace stuttered, like he was trying to control himself, like he was on the verge of unraveling completely. But then his hand slid down, hooking behind your knee, hiking your leg up to spread you even wider.

And fuck, the new angle had you seeing stars.

A sharp gasp left your lips, back arching off the bed as his cock hit even deeper, so deep it felt like he was ruining you.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, watching the way your face twisted in pleasure. “You feel that? Feel how good you take me?”

You couldn’t answer, couldn’t do anything but moan as the heat in your stomach coiled impossibly tight, tension building, about to snap.

Eren must’ve felt it, how your walls fluttered around him, how your breath hitched in that telltale way, because his fingers moved to your clit, rubbing fast, ruthless circles that made your whole body jerk.

“Come for me,” he ordered, voice strained, barely holding on himself.

You shook your head weakly, trying to fight it, trying to make this last just a little longer, but Eren wasn’t having it.

“Don’t fucking hold back,” he rasped, slamming into you harder. “Come. Now.”

That was all it took.

Your body locked up, pleasure hitting you in a crashing wave that ripped through your veins, hot and all-consuming. A sob tore from your throat as you clenched around him, shaking as the orgasm washed over you, leaving you completely wrecked beneath him.

Eren wasn’t far behind.

“Fuck—” he hissed through gritted teeth, hips stuttering as your tightness milked him. His grip on you turned bruising, and then he was burying himself deep with one last thrust, a low groan spilling from his lips as he filled you.

The room was silent except for your ragged breaths, your skin slick with sweat, bodies still tangled together.

Still breathless, Eren leaned down and kissed you, softer this time. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, pressing you so tightly against him that you could feel the wild thrum of his heartbeat. “I fucking love you so much,” he murmured against your lips. “Never gonna leave you, baby. Never gonna let you leave me either.”

Apologies for any mistakes, I’ll edit in the morning with fresh pairs of eyes 👀.

[keraawrites]

One more time

Summary: You're ovulating, and the only person who can fix it is your ex-boyfriend.

Context; Just a drabble full of some filthy smut ;)

Word count — 772

Your fingers aren’t enough. Your toy isn’t enough. Nothing is. You’re losing your mind, the ache between your legs a constant, maddening pulse. It’s been like this all damn day—your body hot, slick, restless. And the only thing that can satisfy you is the one person you swore you’d never call again.

Your pride fights it. Claws at you, tells you to hold out. But when your fingers slip between your thighs again and all you get is frustration, you know you’ve lost.

Your hands are shaking when you text him.

You up?

He answers in seconds.

Yeah, what’s up?

You hesitate, then type exactly what you need.

I need you to fuck me. Just once. Just tonight.

The typing bubble appears immediately. Disappears. Then pops up again.

Be there in 10.

Your stomach flips. Your thighs clench. And just like that, anticipation makes your slick, messy pussy throb even more.

When Eren knocks, you open the door in nothing but an oversized T-shirt. No bra. No panties. His sharp green eyes rake down your bare thighs before dragging back up, dark with something unreadable.

He looks good. Too good. Grey sweats hanging low, black hoodie unzipped just enough to tease the toned chest beneath. His hair’s a mess, jaw sharp, lips parted like he already knows exactly why you called.

“You look good, ma,” he murmurs, stepping inside.

“I don’t wanna talk.” You fist his hoodie, yanking him down into a kiss that’s all heat, all desperation. He groans into your mouth, hands grabbing, groping, gripping you like he owns you.

His fingers slide beneath your shirt, barely brushing your soaked slit before he pulls back with a sharp inhale.

“Jesus, you’re dripping.”

“Shut up,” you whimper, grinding against his hand. “Just fuck me.”

Eren smirks, amusement thick in his voice. “Damn, baby. Ovulating?”

Your body stiffens, but he just chuckles, hoisting you up like you weigh nothing. “Yeah, I know how you get,” he murmurs, dropping you onto the couch, parting your legs with ease. “All needy and messy, like nothing’s good enough unless it’s me.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the words die in your throat when his tongue drags up your swollen clit.

A choked moan rips from you. Your hands fly to his hair, nails digging in as he eats you like he’s starving—licking, sucking, flicking his tongue in a way that makes your back arch. But it’s not enough.

“Eren, please,” you beg, breathless.

He groans against your pussy, fingers sliding into you, stretching you open. “I knew you’d come back,” he mutters, watching your face as he fucks you with his fingers. “Knew no one else could fuck you like me.”

You can’t even deny it. Not when his fingers curl just right, not when your pussy clenches tight around him, already so close.

But you don’t want his fingers.

You need him.

“Just fuck me,” you whimper, dragging him up. “Please.”

Eren groans, standing and shoving his sweats down just enough to free his cock. Thick. Hard. The tip flushed and leaking. He grips it, rubs the head against your soaked folds, teasing.

“Say it,” he orders. “Say you need me.”

Your pride nearly stops you. But then he taps his cock against your clit, torturously slow, and you break.

“I need you, Eren,” you whisper, voice raw. “Only you.”

That’s all it takes.

He thrusts in, stretching you wide, filling you up like you were made for him. The groan he lets out is guttural, his grip on your thighs tightening as he sinks in deep.

“Fuck,” he growls, forehead pressing to your shoulder. “You’re so fuckin’ wet. This pussy missed me, huh?”

You don’t answer—can’t, not when he starts pounding into you, rough and deep, hitting the spot that makes your legs shake.

You let him take you apart. Let him fuck you until your moans turn to breathless sobs, until your nails carve into his back, until you come so hard your vision blurs.

Eren groans, hips stuttering as he chases his high. “Gonna cum inside,” he grits out. “You want it?”

“Yes,” you sob. “Yes, please.”

That’s all it takes.

Eren buries himself deep with a strangled moan, filling you up with everything he has. He stays there, cock twitching inside you, arms wrapped around you like he’s afraid to let go.

And maybe—just maybe—you are too.

But you don’t say that.

Instead, you just lay there, spent, his cum dripping from between your legs.

Eren presses a lazy kiss to your temple, chuckling as he pulls back.

“One more time?”

And fuck, you already know the answer.

𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘢𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 ©

[foruko]

devil and angle

[purple-corpsez]

How it feels telling tumblr only AOT fans about the AOT twt drama about dick sizes, height discourse, the doxxing situation, one man against everybody

[pigeonpigeoned]

cowboy eren…

colored ver

[phantommiles]

and who really cares...

[marosina]

Have I shown you guys my working key & lock from the Artbook: Fly limited set??

They’re based on the manga version! I’m so happy my got my hands on them 😭

[haruo-chan]

This is freedom!

[jihikomakota]

[fleuren21]

Another POV of my alternate table scene in which Mikasa throws Eren to the ground like she used to:

[jaegsnicotine]

Ocean Waves,

Sands, and

Kisses. | Eren Jaeger

NSFW

Eren Jaeger x f!reader

Summary: A trip to the beach was supposed to clear your head, not lead you to him. Eren is everything you should avoid—detached, unpredictable, incapable of commitment. But the more you push, the more he pulls, until walking away no longer feels like an option.

Warning(s): Toxic relationship dynamics, emotional push-and-pull, possessive!Eren, jealousy, ego clashes, co-dependency, intense arguments, rough sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), pet names, spanking, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial,lots of kissing, angst, Eren being emotionally unavailable at times, and heavy emotional conflicts. Mean bf Porco (forgive me madams I LOVE MA BAE PORCO I SWEAR)

A/N: gurl this shit is messed up idk why i even wrote this but lol hope someone would enjoy it. mwah mwah. part 2 coming soon bb. (yall this is my first time writing on tumblr so…JWHSKSHSKSHSJHSJS fuck)

PART 1.

The late morning sun spills through your bedroom window, casting golden streaks across the wooden floor. The air hums with the soft strums of ‘Violet’ by Daniel Caesar, the mellow tune wrapping around you like a warm embrace. You hum along as you clasp a delicate gold necklace around your neck, the tiny pendant resting just above your collarbone.

Your outfit is effortlessly put together—a brown lace-trimmed crop top with dainty tie straps, paired with an off-white ruched maxi skirt that hugs your hips before flowing down. You slide on your gold watch, fasten a bracelet around your wrist, and grab your sleek brown leather shoulder bag. A final touch—burgundy-tinted sunglasses, resting atop your head, waiting for the sun’s glare.

Satisfied, you take one last look in the mirror. You look good. You feel good. Today is just another day—a simple girls’ day out, nothing more, nothing less.

Your phone vibrates on the table.

Historia:

Where are you??

Sasha is gonna start eating the napkins.

Mikasa:

I swear if you don’t hurry your butt off

A laugh slips past your lips as you grab your bag. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” you murmur, sending a quick reply before stepping out the door.

The world outside is bright, alive. The streets hum with people—some strolling leisurely, others caught in conversation. A group of teenagers skate past, their laughter trailing behind them. The air smells like fresh pavement, the distant scent of brewed coffee from a café nearby.

You weave through the sidewalk, fingers idly scrolling through your phone as your legs move on autopilot toward the usual cafe.

And then—

Everything stops.

There, across the street.

Your steps falter, breath hitching in your throat. The world around you blurs—cars moving, people chatting, the faint hum of city life—but your focus sharpens on one thing.

Him.

Porco. Your Porco.

His arm is draped lazily around a girl’s shoulders, fingers idly playing with the strap of her top. She leans into him, laughing at something he said, her jet-black hair cascading down her back. She’s shorter than you—small enough to fit perfectly under his arm, against his side, like she belongs there. Like she was meant to be there.They walk in sync, close—too close.

Your chest tightens. A sharp, twisting sensation curls in your stomach, something ugly and raw. Your mind scrambles for a rational explanation, something that makes sense, something that doesn’t make your heart plummet straight to your feet, something that doesn’t make your fingers go numb around your phone.

It’s probably nothing. Maybe she’s just a friend. Maybe you’re misinterpreting things.

But you know better.

He doesn’t hold his friends like that. He doesn’t look at them like that.

The weight of it sinks in, heavy and suffocating.

You should go up to him. Confront him. Demand an explanation. Scream, cry, shove him away—anything but just standing here, frozen, as if the pavement beneath you has turned to quicksand.

But your legs refuse to move.

Your throat burns. The buzzing of your phone in your grip feels distant now, an afterthought. Your friends are waiting. The day is supposed to be normal, fun. You were supposed to be laughing over Ymir’s stupid inside jokes right now, not standing on the sidewalk feeling like your entire world just shifted beneath you.

You swallow hard, blinking rapidly against the stinging in your eyes.

Then, without a second thought, you turn on your heel and walk away.

—

The next day, classroom feels colder than usual.

The kind of cold that seeps into your bones, makes you feel smaller than you are. The air conditioner hums softly, blending with the low murmurs of students chatting before class starts. The fluorescent lights cast a sterile glow over the room, making everything feel dull—muted.

You barely register any of it.

You don’t hear the scrape of chairs or the shuffle of feet, don’t even notice when someone approaches your desk until a familiar voice breaks through the haze.

“Hey.”

Your heart stutters.

Porco stands in front of you, looking down with that same easy expression—like everything is normal. Like yesterday never happened.

You don’t answer right away. You just stare at him, trying to piece together how he can stand there so casually, how he can meet your eyes without guilt eating him alive.

Then, without waiting for your response, he reaches for your hand. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”

And you let him.

The hallways are bright, filled with the usual hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. Students move around you, but you barely notice them.

Because all you can see is him.

Porco walks in front of you, hand gripping yours loosely—like it’s nothing, like it’s just another day. Another day of him picking you up after class to take you home, just like the perfect boyfriend everyone thinks of him. But your fingers feel like they’re burning against his skin, your breath uneven as you stare at his back.

You should let go.

You should stop this before it hurts more.

But you can’t.

Because as much as you hate him right now, as much as you want to scream and cry and tear yourself away, there’s a part of you that still needs this.

A part of you that wants to sink into his warmth, to pretend—just for a little while longer—that nothing has changed.

Your throat tightens. Your nails dig into your palm.

You want to kill him.

You want to kiss him.

You want to hate him, but you can’t.

So, you just follow.

—

The engine hums low, filling the silence between you. The familiar scent of Porco’s cologne lingers in the air—woody, fresh, painfully comforting. Your fingers play with the hem of your skirt, your gaze fixed on the road ahead.

Porco taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “You’re awfully quiet today.”

You don’t respond.

He exhales, shaking his head. “C’mon, baby. Talk to me.”

Something in you snaps.

“Talk to you?” Your voice is sharp, cutting through the stillness. “About what, Porco?”

He glances at you, brow furrowing. “What’s with the attitude?”

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it. Just exhaustion. Just pain.

“Do you even care about how I feel?” you ask, turning to him, searching his face for something. “Or are you just pretending everything’s fine?”

“Baby,” His grip on the wheel tightens. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

And that’s what breaks you.

The way he says it so easily, like yesterday never happened, like he wasn’t holding someone else, touching someone else—loving someone else.

Your vision blurs. Your chest tightens.

You bite the inside of your cheek, turning away. “Just drive, Porco.”

For once, he listens.

But deep down, some part of you hoped he didn’t, that he’d instead reassured you that whatever you’re thinking right now is wrong.

—

NEXT DAY

The moment you step onto campus, your friends lock onto you like sharks scenting blood.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Sasha drawls, crossing her arms. “Where the hell were you two days ago?”

You freeze mid-step. “What?”

Historia raises an eyebrow. “The hangout? The one you agreed to?”

Shit.

Your mind scrambles for an excuse. “Oh—uh, something came up.”

Mikasa squints. “Something?”

Annie tilts her head. “Or someone?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. You should’ve known they wouldn’t let this slide.

Historia leans forward, eyes narrowing. “Wait a minute. You never flake. Did something happen?”

You hesitate.

Then, with a sigh, you drop your bag onto the table and slump into your seat. “I think Porco’s cheating on me.”

The air shifts.

Silence stretches between you and your friends, the usual buzz of campus noise suddenly feeling distant.

Then—

“Huh?”

The synchronized reaction makes your chest tighten.

Sasha is the first to break, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean think?”

You swallow. “I saw him with someone.” The words feel heavy on your tongue. “He had his arm around her. She looked—” You take a shaky breath. “She fit into him better than I ever did.”

Another beat of silence.

“That son of a—” Sasha pushes her chair back, like she’s ready to fight.

Mikasa places a firm hand on her arm.

Historia, still staring at you, frowns. “You think he’s cheating, but you didn’t ask?”

You shake your head. “I couldn’t. I just—” Your fingers tighten into fists. “I walked away.”

Annie finally speaks up. “Wait. So… you haven’t broken up with him?”

Your lips part, but the words don’t come.

Sasha blinks. “Oh my god, you haven’t broken up with him?”

“Not yet,” you mumble.

“Not yet?” Historia repeats, exasperated. “You’re just gonna let this slide?”

“No, I just—I don’t know what to do, okay?” Frustration bubbles in your chest. “I don’t know if I want to punch him in the face or pretend like I didn’t see anything at all.”

Mikasa exhales sharply. “You need to talk to him.”

“Or dump him,” Annie deadpans.

Sasha groans, dragging a hand down her face. “No offense, but why are you even hesitating? Like, Porco? Come on. You’re too hot for this.”

You huff out a weak laugh, but it dies quickly. The weight of everything settles again.

“I just…” You trail off, shaking your head. “I need to clear my head.”

“Then let’s do something,” Historia says, suddenly perking up. “Get your mind off it.”

“Yeah,” Sasha nods. “We could go shopping. Or eat. Or…”

“The beach,” Historia suggests.

You wrinkle your nose. “Ugh, the beach?”

Immediately, all four of them stare at you like you just said you hate puppies.

“What’s wrong with the beach?” Sasha demands.

“It’s hot,” you grumble.

Historia throws her hands up. “It’s supposed to be hot! That’s the whole point.”

Mikasa raises an eyebrow. “You literally own like twenty bikinis.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I like—”

“Oh my god,” Sasha groans. “You need this. You can’t just sit in your room being miserable forever.”

“You do know exams are coming up, right?” Annie points out. “You need to focus, and you can’t do that if you’re sulking over some idiot.”

She has a point. A very annoying, very logical point.

You exhale, pressing your palms against the table. “Fine. The beach.”

Sasha pumps her fist. “Yes!”

“Great,” Historia grins. “We leave tomorrow.”

Your eyes widen. “Tomorrow?”

“Yup.”

“No backing out,” Sasha says.

You sigh, rubbing your temples. Maybe this is what you need. A distraction. A way to breathe again.

“Alright,” you mutter. “Tomorrow.”

—

NEXT DAY

The drive to the beach is filled with the familiar chaos of your friends. Sasha's feet are up on the dashboard despite Mikasa’s protests, Annie busy on her phone on the backseat, and Ymir is leaned back in her seat, sunglasses slipping down the bridge of her nose, with Historia’s head resting on her shoulder. The car smells like sunscreen and the faint hint of coffee from a quick stop before heading out.

You, on the other hand, sit quietly, fingers tracing patterns on your thigh, watching the scenery blur past the window.

The closer you get to the shore, the more alive everything feels. The streets are packed with tourists in beachwear, surfboards sticking out of the backs of trucks. Street vendors sell fresh coconuts and grilled corn, and the scent of salt lingers thick in the air.

It’s overwhelming.

You’ve never liked the beach. Something about it has always felt too open, too free. Like if you let yourself go, the waves might take you with them.

But you’re here. And you’re trying.

The second you step onto the sand, your friends scatter—Mikasa, Annie, and Ymir setting up the towels, Sasha and Historia already running toward the water. You slip off your sandals, feeling the warmth of the sand beneath your feet as you drop your bag beside them.

Your swimsuit is simple—a black bikini top paired with loose, white linen pants. The ocean wind tugs at your hair, and for a brief moment, you let yourself close your eyes, inhaling the salt-kissed air.

Maybe this won’t be so bad.

For a while, you just sit there, legs stretched out on your towel, watching the waves roll in. The water glistens under the afternoon sun, surfers cutting through the waves in smooth, effortless motions.

And then, before you even realize what you're doing, you stand.

You don’t think. You just move.

Your feet sink into the sand as you step forward, walking toward the water as if something is pulling you in. The ocean laps at your ankles, then your calves, cool against your sun-warmed skin.

It feels strange. Too open, too vast. You keep going anyway. Until,

“Shit.”

Your hand shoots up to your chest, your fingers feeling nothing but bare skin. Your ring. It was there just a second ago.

You whirl around, scanning the water, your heart hammering. “No, no, no…”

The waves keep moving, uncaring, indifferent to your panic. Your breathing picks up, hands digging through the water like you can somehow catch it before it disappears forever.

You shouldn’t care. It’s just a stupid ring. A stupid ring from a relationship that’s already dead. But your chest tightens anyway.

"Shit, shit, shit—"

“You lost something?”

The voice comes out of nowhere.

You freeze.

When you turn, he’s standing a few feet away, his deep blue surfboard tucked under one arm, his body still glistening from the ocean. He’s shirtless, broad shoulders tapering down to a lean waist, swim shorts hanging low on his hips. His hair is damp, tied in a manbun, some strands falling over sharp green eyes—watching you, unreadable.

You stare at him for a second too long before blinking rapidly. “Uh—yeah. My ring. It just—it just slipped off.”

He doesn’t ask why you’re freaking out over a ring. He just watches you for a beat, then exhales through his nose. “Stay here.”

And before you can process that, he’s already diving into the water.

You stand frozen, watching as he disappears beneath the waves. The ocean moves around him like it knows him, like it bends to him. Seconds stretch into a full minute, then another—until finally, he resurfaces, dark hair slicked back, water dripping down his face.

And between his fingers—

Your ring.

Your breath stutters as he walks toward you, hand outstretched.

“You should probably get this resized,” he says, his voice calm, almost indifferent.

You stare at the ring, then at him. He’s close now—close enough that you can see the silver chain around his neck, the key pendant resting against his collarbone.

Your fingers brush his as you take it back. “Thanks,” you murmur.

He just nods, eyes flickering over your face for half a second before he steps back. Then—

“Can you surf?”

You blink. “Huh?”

He stays quiet for some seconds, just staring at you with that unreadable expression of his before asking again. “Can you surf?”

Your lips part open with no words coming out for a while before you close it again hurriedly. “Oh- no, never.”

A beat of silence. The air between you is thick, charged with something you can’t quite name. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he asks, “You wanna try?”