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thesunshinebunny · 4 years ago

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When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part VI)

Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter summary: After weeks of tension and mutual pining, Eren and reader finally succumb to their most carnal and animalistic desires.

Word Count: 7.9k

His cold hands were still resting on my skin. The body heat of each of us was reversing until we became the temperature of the other. In what had been burning for a moment, now my cheeks felt cold, icy, the skin on my chest and hips began to feel discomfort and the wind that was blowing did nothing but make me shiver. Instead, Eren's hands became warm, pleasant to the touch, but uncomfortable and unsure at the same time towards my sanity. The fingers of his left hand were moving over my hip in an attempt to massage a bruise that had just risen above the bone, a bruise that I had just noticed when his hand moved slightly up my shirt to lay flat on my skin and flesh. His right hand, still positioned on my cheek, ran the few tears that continued to fall, just as the trail of the already dry traces that this salty stream had left behind disappeared.

The situation wasn’t comforting at all. The burning sensation and fever that had reigned over my body moments before, had dissipated like a bucket of cold water on a small fire. Now I was cold, stiff, shivering and with memories of previous years haunting my mind, memories that once were to be saved to treasure when we were all old and at peace, but now it seemed that they only brought sadness and misfortune.

My eyes were fixed, unseeing, on Eren's bare chest. His skin showed no signs of hits or bruises like mine, damn it, the only thing that could be distinguished was his beefy abs, worked for years, stained with dirt and a few tiny blades of grass stuck to them. I watched as his chest swelled with each inhalation he took, his breathing calmed, no traces of the hectic fight or the makeout session. My hands, already tired from continuing to maintain pressure, now I limited myself to moving my fingers from the inside and out of my palm, occasionally brushing Eren's pelvis with my nails. I stretched them out, letting my fingertips rest on his hip, the small leaves adhering to his skin tickled my fingers and with slight movements I took them out one by one and left them on the grass around us... Some of them stuck to my fingers because of the humidity and the mud accumulated on the rib.

I cleaned them with my palms, but noticing that they didn’t come off easily, I simply ran my hands through my pants, staining them even more with dirt, some leaves fell to the floor due to friction in front of the fabric, others were beautifully placed on the thighs, in U-shapes or even folded into a perfect spiral. Some even broke in two and left little green spots on top of the brown ones. Eren withdrew his hand from my cheek when felt my fingers and nails stop passing through his pelvis and began to play with the small leaves. His hand removed mine from my thighs and ran every trace of wet leaves to the floor in one simple, clean motion. Now that hand was the one that rested on the flesh of my left thigh, moving up and down, occasionally grasping the soft parts and squeezing them from time to time.

I placed my hands over my thighs again, this time over the connection between my legs and my hips, preventing some unseemly movement of Eren's hand from reaching that area without my consent. I fixed my eyes on these and just at that moment I could notice how pale they were, the bruises were still visible and the blood had completely dried, the knuckles were red and little skin began to come out as bruises began to form on top all the long fingers. My left wrist had received the same treatment, a huge bruise covered a large part of the ligament and the bone of the arm, it was even slightly displaced, probably dislocated, but I didn’t feel any pain, not even when moving it, even if it was a few centimeters. As for my right hand, I had only received a few blows on the knuckles, the occasional broken fingernail, but without showing the lower flesh.

My palms, well, I don't know if I could call them palms anymore. I turned both hands to check them and the sight didn’t make me feel better, it only made me relapse into the realization of how mistreated my body was; both were full of dirt, green spots, the product of the viscous liquid that the broken leaves left, and dried blood, apart from the large superficial cut on the right palm. They looked like shit, I have to admit. I let out a long sigh at such a miserable image. My eyes burned, but I couldn't give myself the freedom to close them because I knew that if I did, more tears would shoot out.

"Hey" Eren's hand that was for minutes massaging my hip was placed under my chin and raised my head once more, without heaviness or restrictions on my part.

My view was blocked by his long fingers, which like his torso, didn’t show any sign of injury or bruises, except for a few small traces of dried blood, my blood. I couldn’t see with complete clarity if his fingertips were equally stained, I tried to turn the head to where he was caressing me a few moments ago to find some indication of blood or injury, but Eren prevented me by bringing my face back to his, lifting it more and bringing it closer to his eyes. They were the same as I had seen them a few minutes ago, greyish turquoise and glowly. God, that glow, that damn glow. Within all possible situations, in any place, they had to return to shine here and now. It wasn’t fair.

It wasn't fair at all.

I directed my hands to his face, placing each one on his cheeks and cradling him between them. I couldn't tell if the action caught him off guard, what I can say is that I could feel, for a thousandth of a second, his eyes widen at the touch. Color that had been lost for months had returned for a moment, as a small blush on his cheeks. For a moment, I swear for a moment, the Eren I knew was back. My eyes inspected his, trying to find that color that I had spotted, trying to find a sign of the Eren that I had loved so much, a sign that he was still there, hidden, curled up like an infant before the oh so many shadows surrounded him.

"You have beautiful eyes" It was a cruel reality but true in the same way.

His eyes were always one of his most impressive features I had ever noticed from a person. Huge, with a lot of accumulated life, a strong and bright color, unable to take my eyes off them. Those same eyes that brought security were the ones that made me doubt my actions and generated deep sadness in me; Those eyes that once made me tremble with exaltation now made me cry.

It was the same eyes that I had lost myself in on a hot sunny day at the cabin along with Levi and our little squad. That spring day, pollen in the air, the cabin full of dust and cobwebs, the boys doing their homework, while Eren and I were cleaning up. Each one cleaning in our small space, without speaking to us unless necessary, such as asking for help to move a piece of furniture if one couldn’t, or ask for the cleaning tool the other had to clean a small cobweb under a window frame. The dirty and torn glasses, in need of a delicate hand that could remove all traces of the excessive abuse during the years that this small home was disabled. I decided to clean all glasses on the lower level, leaving Eren to clean the door on both the outside and inside.

As I was cleaning the window closest to the front door, I noticed how the frames were starting to crack, a few splinters coming to the surface and being capable of injuring anyone who was not careful enough. I ran the rag through a fairly open crack, trying to remove as many splinters as possible, even dislodging the broken piece out of the frame entirely. Little by little the wood was detaching, some pieces stuck to the skin of my fingers, others fell right on my feet, and when I was finally able to completely detach the broken piece, I left it on the table in full view of all of them, so that when someone re-entered the cabin, I could warn them of the care with the respective window.

I decided to investigate more parts of the frame to see if I found more loose pieces when out of the corner of my eye I saw a figure move outside the window. During my little out of all reality I had completely forgotten that Eren was cleaning right on the other side of the wall. I could see him perfectly from where I was standing. His arms, while long compared to mine, didn’t reach up to the wood of the door, having to stand on tiptoe and stretch a little to reach the dust that had accumulated in that area. His hair gathered in a cloth, preventing dirt from falling on it, made a funny image at the same time... almost cute. His young face, now half covered with the cloth, was getting younger and the way in which he stretched, reminded me of the image of a little boy in the middle of the bazaar of my town trying to reach a basket of cookies without the mother found out.

But it was neither his figure nor the way his hair was flattened and took that shape little by little, but the way in which the sunset sun reflected exactly on his eyes, turning them a lush green, much lighter and more colorful. Although his eyes were directed towards the door, I could see them without complications; I could see his eyelashes rise up and the smallest of the ends bent and tangled between them, I could see the small shiny points turn a warm color while the clean wood of the door was reflected in the iris.

At some point, I opened the window outward, allowing me to stretch my body and settle on the lower wood, resting my abdomen and elbows, holding my head in my hands as I watched the incredible scene in front of me. The sun's rays hit Eren's body, giving him an orange ring of light over his entire figure, the cloth about to come loose and fall from his head because of how badly tied it was and his hands were dirty while also being delicate when holding the rag between his fingers, perhaps an act Levi had taught him while he was alone in his squad.

The rag slipped from his hand and the moment he reached down to grab it, his face turned straight to mine, allowing me to see his eyes much more conspicuously. The play of light and shadow, the way that nature itself reflected in them was the greatest work of art that I had ever seen, perhaps it was due to the fact that I hadn’t seen many people with green eyes, much less with that tonality. of green that Eren had inherited. What beautiful eyes. I thought I had said it to myself, but apparently I had unconsciously let it out in a slight sigh, as Eren raised his head in less than a second, straight at me. His eyes were wide and his face reflected surprise.

Those eyes in which I had been spellbound for long minutes were staring at me, penetrating strongly on mine, as if looking for a sign that his owner had clearly heard what the wind had brought to his ears.

"What? Did you get lost in my incredible eyes? " his humorous words and his wicked smile were what brought me back to reality. They were like an open hand spanking across the face.

My face was decomposed for a moment, eyes open and my mouth ajar, even my hands stopped supporting my head causing me to almost fall to the ground. I tried to compose myself as best I could, fixing my shirt, eliminating the wrinkles that had formed from being with my torso on the uncomfortable wood, and pulling some hair that had fallen over my eyes to one side.

"Yeah, you wish" I threw my body back and stretched out my arm to close the window, but not before giving him a half smile and admiring his eyes for the last time before going back to work.

Now I was in front of those eyes once more, with that memory stabbing a knife in the middle of my heart and mind, but with my body being drawn to them like that hot spring day.

I brought my face close to his, one hand running through his hair while the other roamed his chapped, swollen lips. The moment felt soft, calm, even though the weight on our shoulders was harder and more invasive. His hand on my chin was now caressing my neck lightly, as if he were passing a feather over my jugular, the hand that had been caressing my leg, now had placed on my lower back, stretching the fingers and feeling the greater amount of skin under his as much as possible. We both leaned forward and when our lips met again, time seemed to melt.

This time, there was no fight between our lips, there was no resistance, we just dedicated ourselves to melting into each other along with time. Everything felt delicate, Eren's touch on my back, my fingers on his scalp, his hand on my neck pulling me closer to him. Chest to chest, an almost impossible union for less garments that both of us had on, but still it was enough to feel the beating of the other's heart. No heartbeat was neither too fast nor too slow, they were just in perfect harmony, it was… perfect.

I could feel his lashes brush against mine with every turn of the head I took to sink the kiss, his locks tickling my cheeks, and his tongue, intrusive as it was, was welcome. My senses intensified, causing me to wrap myself in a sea of sensations and little by little the current took me to the deepest waters, feeling how the weight of my body was getting smaller and smaller, as if my body itself made smaller.

I felt vulnerable and it was the same Eren who brought these senses to the surface, the same one who could put them in a bottle, throw them into the sea and lose them in the waves, at the same time that he could bring them back with the simple movement of his hand.

We parted ways to reconnect once more, this time harder and needy. His hands were placed on either side of my waist, pulling me closer to him with more force, connecting our torsos even more and bumping our hips. I groaned when I felt his crotch against mine, I was perfectly positioned on him and every feverish kiss, every movement, made me grind on him. His tongue ran through my mouth as if it were the last time he would do it, it felt abrupt, as if a prayer was taking place, wishing that we would never disconnect from each other. He ran through every part of me, colliding with mine even my teeth, he was desperate and it showed. His teeth took my lower lip between them, biting and tugging slightly, giving me the perfect opportunity to elicit a guttural moan as I felt his cock already erect against my entrance.

He took my mouth back into his, sliding his hands down to the soft flesh of my ass, each hand over the round cheeks, and squeezed, marking his fingers hard over them. He took the opportunity to guide me on his cock back and forth, movements slow but accurate and hard, each grind felt like fire on my center, traveling up my back towards the brain. I was beginning to feel light in the head, my coherence was clouded and the only thing I could think was more, more, more.

At this point I just grunting at every grind he made me do, lifting me slightly to come down again and position myself even closer to his crotch. I bit his upper lip in an attempt to stifle a moan as I felt a wet spot begin to form in the middle of my pants and his dick leaning right in that same spot.

"Don't keep the moans to yourself" he lifted his lips from mine and moved down from my cheek to my neck.

I kept grinding on him involuntarily, no longer with his help, but still feeling his colossal hands squeeze my ass and hold me steady in my movements. He didn't want me to stop and honestly, I didn’t to stop either. The pressure I felt on his dick was too much, even his lips would detach from my skin from time to time, releasing small but notorious grunts, given the pleasure that this simple but filthy action generated to us.

"Fuck, Eren" I moaned as I hit his pelvis once more, this time harder than before. I felt him chuckling as I noticed how my moans began to come out of my vocal chords, with no intention of stopping. The friction felt delicious, we were both getting off with each other without even being in the main event.

My fingers tangled in his hair, drawing his face impossibly closer to my neck. I felt his lips leave a thin wet line on the hollow of my clavicle and sting lightly with his teeth. His hands couldn't stay still, the more friction we generated, the more I grinded on him, the more they moved through my body; they passed over my thighs, my back, the sides of my stomach to my chest.

I expanded my chest on the touch of him, preparing myself for what was to come, letting out a groan as I felt his fingers reach the limits of my nipples. They were a little cold and generated a perfect contrast with the heat that began to emanate from within, starting to make my nipples erect under his fingertips. Took one between his two fingers and the heat that was gradually forming in the tip of my stomach was getting bigger. The need for him not only generated great pleasure on my fibers, but also impatience, Eren was characterized by being a damn teaser when it came to sex.

His fingers eased my poor, swollen nipple and pulled my shirt off my shoulders, leaving only my leather suit like Eren, both now in direct contact with our body heat. The shirt fell to the ground at the same time that his lips were detached from my neck, he dedicated himself to arranging the shirt on the grass while still having me straddling him. The same happened with his jacket and shirt, which had been much closer to us than I had imagined. The three garments made a poor case of cover on the grass, but that was enough for Eren to roll me onto his back and settle on top of me.

Lips against lips, hands running over each other's body, savoring on our fingertips the heat of the skin, each muscle and bone marked, the hair of both getting tangled up in the environment, spread over the fabric in my case or Eren's falling towards my face if not spread over my fingers.

Eren settled to the side, leaving a small space between us, and let his hand run over my stomach, slowly, delicately, roaming around my entire torso until it reached my hips. His hand stopped to explore, feeling the bones outlining the body and the beginnings of the legs. His touch was so soft that he even tickled me. His fingers reached a sensitive area, drawing little giggles against my lips, but Eren's intentions weren’t to make me laugh and they were more than clear. Noticing my giggles climbing, he took the opportunity to reach under my pants, even under my underwear. Now the giggles were transformed into moans and sighs when I felt his finger brush my most needy area.

He was starting to burn, little beads of sweat were forming on the back of my neck and forehead, and he wasn't being fair at all. His finger was just brushing, again, and again, and again through my center, giving me the necessary pleasure to moan in his mouth, but never enough. It wasn't enough and Eren knew it, he was torturing me in the most delicious and infuriating way he knew. I guided my hand to his, undoing the buttons on the stained pants, now having more space and comfort, and placed it over his, applying just enough pressure for him to realize how needy I was.

And it worked. Eren heeded my silent prayer and inserted a finger, coming into contact with my wet walls. I moaned as I felt his finger slide slowly inside, his simple finger never fails to make me see stars and this case was no different. It's pumping slowly, too slowly, too much. This was no time for delicacies. The tip brushed the right places, driving the heat in my stomach to expand more, more and more.

"Eren" I growled hoping that my pathetic voice carried enough prayer to give me what I needed.

Eren inserted another finger, twisting it and applying more pressure to my sore spot. I felt like my body was becoming lighter as the pleasure was taking possession. Each twist, each impulse, each pressure was like an electric shock on my spine that ran through the veins and spread throughout the body, until there was no space left untouched. My back arched as I felt both fingers brush against my sweet spot, making Eren giggle over my ear.

"How do my fingers feel inside?" he whispered dangerously into my ear, biting the lobe and generating a new electrical reaction over me.

It was impossible for me to speak, the only thing that came out of my mouth were moans after moans. My free hand went to Eren's neck, I pulled him as close as I could to my face. My gaze was cloudy and narrowed, it was difficult to maintain control. His eyes were not on mine, rather they were on my crotch, seeing how his fingers disappeared without difficulty inside me and came out again and again, wetting them in the process. I tried to draw him to my lips to avoid giving an answer to his question, which had entered one ear and left the other. His fingers wreaked havoc inside me and every time I tried to open my mouth to answer, a new moan came out, making me impossible every second. I was sure that if this continued, I would end up forgetting the question.

"Say it or I'll stop and I'll leave you naked for others to find you" his voice had deepened, and being so close to my ear it only generated more vibrations under my spine.

My head was spinning, trying to formulate an answer before stammering it. It was difficult considering that his fingers had picked up the pace, moving in and out of my hole with a steady rhythm and able to propel my body along with them, and his breath over my ear and neck.

"It - ah - it feels good" it really felt good, I hadn't felt this good in months.

My answer made him smile, apart from twisting his fingers once more before applying pressure to my weak point. I couldn't tell if what came out of my mouth was a moan or a scream, or perhaps a guttural groan, but what I was sure was the fact I was close, too close, to cum. I felt like that heat at the tip of my stomach expanded more, almost without having more space in my body to expand. I was close, my legs twisting on the clothing, spreading it and disarming the covering, and just as I was about to feel the long-awaited launch, it stopped. The damned bastard had stopped.

My eyes went wide at the desperation in my body to break free. Internally I was screaming, I was angry but the trembling of my legs and my arms didn't let me do much. He wanted to curse him, ask him a thousand and a few things, demand an explanation of why in his right mind, if he still had one, it occurred him to stop. Before I could utter a word, Eren straightened up and placed his hands on my hips, exactly above the limits of my pants, squeezing them firmly but gently. I looked at him expecting him to do something, but when he didn't move after a few seconds, I looked up at his. He was looking directly at me, and he was the one waiting for a signal to continue.

I swallowed hard, placed my hands over his and guided them down, raising my butt just enough that we could remove the annoying garment. In our rush and clouded heads, we didn't realize that the shoes were still on, the pants got stuck, and we only realized our mistake when we couldn't get it down after multiple fussing. We turn our gazes to the pants, then to us. We started laughing, it was like reliving our first time, clumsy, inexperienced, but at the same time funny and careful.

Eren shed my shoes, trying to caress my legs every time the worn leather slipped off me. From so much being using them for two days in a row, using them not only for walking and treating patients, but also for running where they shouldn't be used, the leather had stuck to my legs, marking them and leaving blisters and bruises from the knees to the toes. Eren ran his hands over each one, being extra careful when he came across a blister or where the flesh was hot red. He stroked each mark that had formed on the skin, running down to his ankles, lifted my right leg over his shoulder, and began to kiss those same marks around my foot. The kisses were soft, as if it were the skin of a newborn baby, his strong but secure hand held the inside of my leg and massaged the area, which I had not realized how tense and beaten it was until I stared at the scene Eren was putting on.

Between that tour inspecting the discomfort in my leg, my eyes were at the mercy of Eren's, feverish and dark. My gaze, my half-parted lips and my ragged breathing was what Eren needed to place my other leg on his other shoulder and massage both equally, giving the same treatment that he gave to the right leg to the left. Now with half my body suspended in the air, I couldn't help but think about the notorious wet spot that surely had left seconds behind thanks to the excitement. I could feel it stick right in the middle of my crotch.

Without taking his eyes off mine, his fingers slowly descended to the strap of my underwear and slowly slid it over my legs until they reached my ankles. I pulled my legs away from his shoulders and pulled them together so he could peel off the fine fabric and discard it somewhere on the grass. My heart was beating uncontrollably in my chest, like I was about to shoot out. After Eren got rid of that miserable garment, I reconnected his lips to mine, stretching and spreading my legs so I could position myself between them. The kiss was short but effective, pulling me out of any thoughts that might have appeared without permission.

I felt Eren's hand on my leg, cupping below the knee and going palm down toward my ankle. His lips were now kissing my sternum, pressing gently on my rib cage. He looked at me, trying to find ... any reaction? Doubt? But there were none. I let my head fall back, letting my hand run through his hair as he roamed my chest and stretched my legs even more with his hands. Every now and then he bit my light skin with his teeth, generating gasps and grunts from me; Reactions that went straight to his cock, still covered and leaning against my core.

I raised my hips to connect with his dick, receiving a gasp from him as a groan escaped me as I felt him hard and throbbing against me. I hadn’t realized that Eren was just as excited as me, his kisses made thinking much more complicated, each pressure from his mouth made the knot in my lower stomach become more present. He went down, leaving a path of kisses for each part of my skin, until he reached my crotch and reached back to see how his work was reflecting in me.

He brought his face in front of where I needed it most and without being able to say anything to him, not even asking what I wanted, he leaned forward; I could feel how his eyes were fixed on me, his gaze penetrating and even if I wasn’t looking at him, I knew that he was observing every reaction, involuntary or not, on my face and on my body. He was so close that I could feel his breath on me, I waited patiently to feel his mouth on that area, but my mouth opened wide when I noticed that his tongue had gone directly to my thigh, giving it a long and wide lick against my fold.

He knew what he was doing, he knew it very well, and he knew he wasn't going to stop until he got what he wanted. Between licks, he gave himself the opportunity to bite the inside of my thigh, making me moan and, according to what he had told me once, were sweet and addictive.

"Eren-" my voice was half out when I felt his tongue pass my core.

He gave a long lick, not once but twice. My hand settled on the back of his head, trying to draw him closer to me. My fingers applied too much force just as my legs involuntarily closed over his head, crushing it against my thighs. He felt warm and soft, softer than his fingers, but at the same time it wasn't enough. It was not a virtue of me to be patient and knowing him, I knew that he would torture me and tease me until I was left as a wet and needy bundle, begging for a release. I was writhing and shaking, my thighs crushing his head more and more with each passage of his tongue as the arousal spread over my stomach.

He raised his hand to my chest, pinning me to the floor as he left cat licks on my crotch, the other instead going to his underwear, running it down far enough to remove his dick. In my damn delusion, he was preparing me to feel his fingers enter my wet hole again, but Eren had other plans. He grabbed the back of my thighs and wrapped them around his waist, positioning himself in between and letting his cock rest between my stomach. He moved his hips forward, giving him all the pleasure against my skin. I looked at him, my lips apart, releasing long sighs, waiting for him to move a little more or turn his attention back to me, avoiding giving his sweet toss a second time.

He guided the tip of his cock towards my entrance, trying to insert it without a little preparation before. Okay, I was wet, but the situation was getting unfair at any moment. Not only unfair, but also too fast and violent. He lunged in, making me scream at such intrusion, instead he groaning as he slid his cock through my walls.

"Fuck" he growled as he placed himself completely inside me.

After weeks, months, without any interaction, or anything like it, the feeling was overwhelming. My muscles flexed at his grip, fluttering around his throbbing, venous cock, his raspy, low voice continuing to send tingles around my spine. I didn't have time to fully adjust to him, moving quickly on top of me, thrusting in and out at a fast pace, hitting the areas most in need within me. It was pleasant, but it hurt, and discomfort outweighed pleasure.

"Wait, just-wait a minute" I tried to sound straight but his shoves clouded my mind, at the same time that they tensed my body, immobilizing me.

I brought a hand to his chest, trying to stop him, but I only made his thrusts go deeper, more intense from him.

"I said wait a fucking minute!"

I reached forward, now both of us face to face, without any bond between our bodies. My hands formed into fists and went straight to his shoulders, pushing him backwards, staying within the limits of our clothes. Without waiting a second, I straddled him, taking his cock right under my entrance. I felt it throbbing, spasming, the heat that emanated from my crotch was enough for him to growl through his teeth. I guided my hand to where our hips met, lifting a little to reach his cock without complications. I could feel every one of his prominent veins on the palm of my hand, it was radiating heat and starting to leak pre-cum from the tip. I ran my thumb through his veins, going from the base to the tip torturously slow. Pumping his cock firmly, examining his reactions; I felt like my ego was inflated when I saw him with his lips parted, moaning on my hand, it was like having him at my complete mercy. To be honest, seeing him in that state, needy, slowly breaking apart beneath me, was the boost I needed to completely destroy him, as he had broken me. I felt powerful and all I needed was to get his dirty cock in my hand and give him a hand job to have him like a wet stray dog.

But ... as I said before, patience was not my virtue, so just as quickly I had started pumping him, I quickly carried him towards my core, sliding his cock back inside, moaning down my throat as I did so. The way his body trembled at the feel of my walls contracting was delicious.

"Fuck you're so tight," he moaned with his jaw open.

Now it was me who created the rhythm, each thrust I took increased the speed slightly. I stood on his shoulders, moving my palms between his collarbone and his neck, I didn't know what to do with them and I couldn't keep them still. The excitement was building very well and my body was responding on its own. Eren placed one hand on my hip, helping me maintain my thrusts, while the other positioned himself in the crook of my neck, bringing my forehead against his.

"You like this, uh? Do you like to be fuckingthe damn traitor of the country?"

I did nothing but moan at such a vulgar comment, but worst of all, they had reached my crotch; my walls had twisted when I heard him so close to me. My voice had caught in my throat, suffocating me, nothing else came out of my mouth but combinations between moans and grunts. Eren seemed to like it as he began to move more vigorously, he sheathed himself completely inside me, opening his mouth to moan under his breath as he bottoms out.

"You feel so good baby, so so good, my good little baby"

I was tighter than other times, maybe the situation, maybe the position, but fuck the reason, it felt so, so good. I buried my face in the hollow of his shoulder to keep my moans from coming out more prominent, the way his cock settled inside me and brushed every wall virtuously made my body shudder and my eyes go blank. A thrust that touched my sore spot and pulled me closer to Eren at the way he thrust, made me bite his shoulder, hard and deep.

Eren let out a groan as he felt his skin break open and begin to bleed, I could feel the taste of iron on my mouth. It hadn't been my intention to hurt him, but I couldn't control my strength or the way my hips circled as the thrusts picked up speed.

He reached out his hand to grab my hair and bend my neck back, exposing my face to him.

"Shit, that's it baby, mount that cock, I know you like it" the way our hips moved up and down and back and forth in a fiery way until they reached the flush of butt made me shudder. The way he was buried in me seemed like he was trying to reach even deeper, trying to reach my stomach; and it was right there where I felt it most. "I know you love it, you always loved it"

Every movement of him in and out was majestic, it was the best I had felt in months, even better than our previous times. His movements grew steadier, faster, and harder. I felt my body tense up completely, I arched my back against him and kept moving my hips faster, having more friction to work with as I felt the orgasm reach me.

“Are you gonna cum? I can feel your walls tightening"

I nodded my head repeatedly, unable to formulate a word. Eren captured my mouth with his, moving us both at a speed I would never have imagined, our skin colliding over and over and over. The only thing around us was the rapid slapping of skin against skin, the dirty sound of my hole taking him so well, squeezing him more and more.

A strong thrust was what I needed to collapse. I screamed, not caring if anyone was near to listen. Eren's name slipped from my lips repeatedly, as if I was saying a prayer and he alone was my salvation. My back arched again, my hands went to his hair, tousling it and letting brown strands fall over his forehead. My body felt light, much lighter, as if the stress had been released along with the orgasm. I creamed on Eren's cock and his thighs, our legs were wet and my spasms moved any liquid in different directions over our bodies.

In my bliss I hadn’t realized that Eren had never stopped moving, the difference was he’s now going in and out more slowly, much more slowly than we had started.

While we were going slow, I was completely sensitive, and the more thrusts Eren made, the overstimulation took my body by leaps and bounds. No longer moans came from my mouth, but small and soft whines every time he buried himself inside me.

"I love you" his voice came out as a sigh, even lower than that, but loud enough for me to hear.

He froze me a second time, it was already becoming a bad habit on his part. His words were like a dagger to the heart, one that stabbed me over and over and over again. I felt my chest begin to ache, but our movements never stopped. Eren kept pounding against me, like he wanted to accompany his movements with his "sweet" words. My nails dug into his shoulders, trying to dissipate the emotional pain from my chest to the physical pain above him.

"Shut up" I tried to speak still with my head turning thousands of times, avoiding letting out a moan.

His cock kept pounding in just the right places, the rhythm our bodies kept was too sweet, my still erect nipples brushing against his chest, generating more friction than he wanted. His lips still on my neck, each thrust was an open kiss on the jugular.

"I love you" again. There were those filthy words again, words that I needed to have been told months ago, even weeks just as we were returning from Marley. I didn't need them when we were in the middle of a heated sex session in the middle of the woods.

"Stop lying" I bit my lower lip as I felt my walls begin to contract.

We weren't moving at the speed I wanted and that was making me hysterical. I tried to move at my own pace, to move my hips over his pelvis and have the friction that I badly needed to cum, but Eren stopped me. He had a strong grip on my hip and no matter how many inches I moved, he would bring me back to the original position, torturing me with his slow step. His lips moved up to my cheek, giving me a small kiss before moving again and pushing me against him, both of them being chest to chest.

Another kiss, and another, and another. Each one to the rhythm of our tapping.

"I'm not lying" Eren moaned into my ear, reaching for my hair and pulling it back. His mouth now close to mine, a few millimeters closer, reaching out to kiss me.

"SHUT UP! ... please ... shut up" I pulled him away from me, throwing him to the floor, now I was on top of him.

His face twisted as he hit the ground and he closed his eyes due to the pain on his back. My hands were on either side of his head, giving me more room to settle in and examine his face perfectly. A small layer of sweat had formed on his forehead and the root of his scalp, little hickeys he had left behind, which were already fading, and his hair was already completely matted; What was once a bun, now it barely held a few strands, leaving the vast majority of the hair down and spilling over the clothes.

His eyes widened again when I placed my hands on his cheeks. His gaze was the same as always, perhaps he was showing a little sadness, or perhaps fatigue.

Please, just ... don’t

"…okay"

I began to move my hips again in a slow, gentle circular motion, trying to rebuild the mood. We maintained eye contact, neither of us wanted to stop looking at the other, even though our eyes narrowed for the little pleasure. My mouth parted as I started to increase my speed, but still going slowly, without having any hint of speed or exasperation in my movements. It was sensual, tender… desperate. His cock went in and out without difficulty, feeling it on every wall, noticing how it began to twist and get bigger as my walls tightened.

My hands didn't hold me for long, ending up collapsing on his chest. Eren never took his hands off my hips, now they helped me keep up, occasionally massaging the softness of my butt cheeks. I moaned as I felt the tip of his cock reach my deepest spot repeatedly.

One of his hands went straight to the back of my neck and squeezed, drawing me to him and capturing my mouth. His thrusts were increasing in speed and hardness, the rhythm already lost and our kisses sloppies and disheveled.

“Fuck-I’ m…”I spoke between kisses, unable to articulate words between his thrusts and his lips didn’t detach from mine. I wasn't going to last long, I knew it. Eren groaned at hearing my shaky voice and his breathing became faster.

"I know, cum again baby, cum on this cock" our hips moved in unison at a rhythm impossible to explain, if there was a rhythm to begin with. We were going fast, but at the same time slow, we tried to impact our weak spots with each other. We avoided separating, even grew closer, as if we were about to merge. Eren was holding me against his chest as close as possible.

The knot in my stomach, that familiar feeling, accumulated and began to expand in a gigantic way, my eyes narrowed but able to see the height of Eren in his eyes, as well as mine reflected in them. "Please, cum with me"

It was all I needed. My walls contracted and fluids began to flow out of my core, soaking us both and leaving a mess not only on our bodies, but also on our clothes. I moan his name in that moment of ecstasy, wasted, tired and satisfied. Eren, still at his prayer, followed me shortly after, shooting in and his heat filling me completely. His body tensed for a few moments beneath me, his hands circling my back and head as he continued to spread his cum inside me.

I felt him shooting each load, filling me up really well. I kept contracting, still gasping for air and shaking, but neither of us had any intention of separating, much less Eren of coming out. After weeks of languishing a bit of peace, as much as the situation wasn’t the right one, we had both found it. I rested my cheek on his chest, listening to his racing heart and allowing his fingers to wrap around my hair.

We were calm, only our breaths were heard around and our hearts trying to return to their normal rhythm. I relaxed when I felt his hands caress me in the same way that he had caressed me in our previous times, it was that kind of caress that allowed you to stay all the time in the world in the arms of your loved one. They were those caresses that I had longed to receive, the same ones that I was afraid of being used against me and confusing me more than I already was.

Eren gave me a light kiss on the temple, massaging my lower back and still keeping me close to him. I let him cradle me to his chest for a while longer, realizing that the moment we changed, we would be back on our own sides, ready to continue fighting for what we believed was fair.

This time, only this time, I would let myself be carried away, even to the point of being unconscious in his arms and succumbing to a much needed sleep.

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Tag List: @aestosia @amberciel @sof-yeager @iwony @curseofymir @etherealkatrina @mariaerdgzn @paypay0315 @despst @kisekinokishi @crazymar15 @gis21345 @urinejaeger @zhilon @dianacavendishh @lucielbinon-binary @cryingforwill @ryan249057 @stardustmonkey @asahinsunakinnie @obeymekookie @iwishyoucouldbekissed @wonkyunsstuff @jeanbabygirl @fairlynies @witchymermaid12 @aniah2 @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag @skysdonut @crazymar15 @healpeony @odelia @shamelesschristian

#eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager #Eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #snk #aot #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #when the world falls apart #eren smut #eren angst #eren x reader #when the world falls apart updates #when the world falls apart update

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jojotier · 6 years ago

Text

Ice Nabe

It was months before Ogata could use his hands again.

That was probably the worst part of the matter. Being dragged everywhere was one thing, and being manhandled by those incompetents of Tsurumi was another. But not being able to move was the worst piece of all. Confined to the whims of his captors, Ogata had no choice but to listen to every passing incident and thought.

“... still can’t believe Kiroranke got away-”

“- Sofia, we should-”

“Svetlana, Svetlana, мой дорогой-”

“-what are we going to do?-”

“He’s-”

“-won’t do anything-”

He wanted to get a hold of his gun, first thing. That was step one; take his rifle, see if it worked. Step two was to blast someone full of holes. Anyone. It didn’t matter who. Whoever seemed to have been most likely to have laid their mitts on him. Was it Tanigaki, with that freakish strength? Tsukishima, with that freakish build? That bastard Sugimoto? He didn’t care. As soon as he could, he’d shoot them all full of holes, and this time, keep doing it until he was absolutely sure they were dead.

Sugimoto had gotten him once, back on the ice. Ogata didn’t even remember the bullet entering his chest. All he remembered was the ice closing over his head, frozen water sloshing around his skull. Staying down there. Feeling everything lock up…

When Ogata got back control of his hands, his legs soon followed. Everything was freezing cold. It felt like his bones had seeped in ice. But at least he could move. At least he could look for his gun.

He slowly sat up, taking stock of his surroundings. The place where they’d laid him down wasn’t too bad on the surface- a comfortable enough spot of blankets near a window that poured flat white sunlight from the wintery world outside. It was comfortable enough to almost make Ogata want to lay back down and watch the dust fly, but. Wait. No- was he drugged? His head was fuzzy as if the entire thing was filled with cotton. It scratched against the sides of his skull, pressing, getting denser- brain knotting and tangling itself up.

He would have to be careful.

Ogata stood up and moved, forcing his legs to go. Everything was stone cold. The air around him froze and stuck to his skin, sweat dripping from his hairline and freezing to his cheeks in accumulating droplets. Soon enough, his face would be caked in icicles. Maybe the cold wood floor would inch up his legs, centimeter by centimeter, and keep growing until a mountain grew around him. He was sluggish and slow- drugs, definitely. Or a blow to the head. He’d hit the water so hard…

The doorway was passed by quickly. Then the next. Then a hallway. It was dilapidated but familiar, and it ached in his left lung, where the bullet was lodged. Iced over. He’d been alone in the first room, and the second- where was everyone here?

They’d left him drugged, but not tied up. Stupid. Stupid, but convenient- it let him search without impediment, other than the ice rusting his limbs squeaky and hard to move. Another drug side effect? What kind of deal did they have? Then again, that guard dog of Tsurumi’s was around- probably got something off the black market. Maybe they were at the market.

No matter the case, he needed to find his rifle. The paper walls of the hall crumbled and dusted around Ogata, spilling cobwebs speckled with icy dewdrops and flakes of sharp paper onto him.

He wasn’t in any heavy clothing anymore- and that made it colder, slicing away at the bare flesh of his hands like metallic claws belonging to some immortal beast. He couldn’t hear anything- no growl of that aforementioned immortal, no mumbling condescension, no shuffling.

Did they leave him alone? What a stupid mistake. He’d shoot their brains to mush before they could learn from their mistake. That is if the cold didn’t freeze anything solid.

Ogata ambled. He moved with icy lead limbs that brindled through space, pushing the frame of a door out his way. The air was musty underneath the sharpness of the cold, seeping in through the cracks. Where the hell was his gun? Even peering into the new room, there wasn’t anything that caught his eye- uniforms made shadows on the wall, and strange models of weapons winked back, gleaming dully in the light.

He made his way over and picked them up one by one, examining them. One gun was too big, too clunky to be of use, holding only one bullet- obsolete. Disgusting. He wouldn’t be able to do anything with this. Tossed it to the side, picked up a pistol, too small for his hands, tossed again and then a shotgun too but double barrels weren’t his tossed aside and

Ah. That fourth one wasn’t a gun at all. Too sharp- no trigger, no barrel, no bullets. Disoriented, Ogata saw. A sword. Ogata bled and watched, and the blood froze to him, and he was fine then because the cold would kill any infection. He’d dress his wound. Later. His gun was somewhere. Needed to find it…

Whatever they gave him was strong- the ice from his blood seeped deeper into him, sticking. He turned his head toward the exit and then a form obscured his vision, tall and glimmering with heated looks. Too cold. That glare wasn’t fit to melt anything.

The figure mouthed words at Ogata, face contorting and mouth morphing along with the shape of his jaw. The sounds that came up were unmistakable- Koito Otonoshin. A little rich snob with no sense of direction, no ability beyond what people told him he had, and no words that Ogata cared to hear. A fresh wave of disorientation- where did Koito come from?

“What did you do to me,” Ogata spat, and it had to be something because he couldn’t feel his toes or her eyes even when he blinked but why would he know what it was like to feel his eyes? Whatever drug they were using…

No drug, not a drug- but if not a drug, then what? Had to be some kind of drug… and if not that, then they did something else to Ogata.

Ogata pushed past Koito and more forms entered his vision. The small fry there must have been Tsukishima- a giant black splotch where his hideous puglike mug was on display, Tsurumi’s prized little stray forced to whisper Remember you must die to deaf ears. Behind him was that damned Matagi, too skilled to be alive, too alive to be sweet, too sweet to exist, too existant to be skilled, ad libitum. Ducking into the room with his great girth, he tried to block Ogata’s path, speaking placatingly.

The calm words were cold on Ogata’s ears, but he smiled, played along. He could charm them, trick them, go on his way. Find his gun, that was the only objective. “It’s fine. I know where I am now.”

Suspicion. Are you sure? The vague shape of Tanigaki asked, an angel that would never be able to fit on someone’s shoulder. Angels were about a real a concept as God- only real to those who shunned reality, refused to get out of their own heads. Hymns and songs meant nothing when peddled from the mouth of a madman.

“I’m sure- I know who you are, so that’s enough. I need to go now. I’m… tired.” And Ogata was brushing past, not looking as the sounds that the three men behind him made blended and faded together. Between the three of them, a shared personality won out- one overly worried about looking after some mythic sense of “safety”. Better get back to his- not bed. It wasn’t a bed, or a futon, or anything but some sunlight. He couldn’t go outside yet. That’d be as good as admitting defeat, running with his tail between his legs.

Seeing the patches of sunlight filter in from cracks in the ceiling reminded Ogata that he was cold. Cold, and forever colder, it seemed. Couldn’t they have at least gotten him further south before he recovered his sanity? His hands. Hands, limbs, walking. He was getting disorganized. The cold was seeping in too much.

Sucking down a breath, Ogata leaned a hand against the wall, steadying himself. He didn’t know how he knew it. But he was running out of time. He didn’t have much time to be moving around- which meant that he’d have to sleep again. Conserve energy. Get someplace warm.

Get someplace warm- maybe that was the real goal he should get towards first. Save the gun for when he had proper circulation. Lifting his hand, Ogata watched it tremble, fingers shuddering into spasms that made him sick just looking at. That wouldn’t do. Couldn’t handle a gun properly without a steady hand. He’d miss, and he didn’t want a repeat performance with what had happened with Sugimoto.

Ogata’s breath puffed out in shallow, cold puffs. As he slowly moved towards some kind of living area, he felt himself slow down more. He tried to tear his eyes away from the wispy streaks of white that spilled out of him, but his eyes were stuck in place. Frozen and numb, set in his skull. God dammit.

Maybe the cold was how they were doing it. Hypothermia.

They never properly warmed him up, and they were keeping him here- hibernating. Trying to keep him on the precipice, just warm enough so that his body didn’t shut down. But still, keeping everything cold and unnavigable, keeping him just cold enough so that his thoughts were too scrambled to find a way to fight back sooner. Ogata might have laughed at how painfully obvious it was if he didn’t get the sinking feeling that he’d gone through this cycle of remembrance before.

Okay. New first objective. Find a place to warm the hell up- then find his gun when he could think clearly again.

The front room was sparse, in possibly worse shape than the rest of this dinky hovel they were holed up in. Maybe it was a minor improvement from the wilderness, but the fact that they were inside someplace and not outside meant that someone was chasing these jokers that Ogata was being held captive by. They were trying to lay low. It must have been damn hard to achieve that when half the walls in this goddamn place were occupied by enormous holes that might have been in the approximate area where windows should have gone.

The harsh white sunlight glowed cold on his skin, reflecting off the cold snow outside and nearly blinding Ogata. There wasn’t much to take in with this front parlor, but he searched for anything of interest nonetheless.

There wasn’t much. There was a table at the center, set against a heater that was rusted and broken down beyond repair. Not that Ogata knew how to repair it anyway, and not that he had the energy to do so. He needed something relatively fast, something that didn’t require a lot. The only thing this room held was a prone bundle of purple blankets on the floor that made a weird whine when he kicked it out of the way.

There was one room in this little place he hadn’t explored yet. Following the path from the far too bright living room into the far dimmer, far colder hallway, his eyes caught sight of a kitchen.

His stomach roiled in revulsion, but that was just another sign that this had gone on long enough. Ogata couldn’t tell whether or not his stomach felt like it was eating itself or if it was just more of the hypothermia, digging cold teeth into his flesh and making it harder to get better. Cold sharp and many, chewing the fat and the bones too.

Everyone here had to eat though. Even if Ogata wasn’t being fed- or maybe he was, and it was just whenever he got too weak to carry on himself, lethargic and deadened from cold and a deep set apathy that he’d felt from the moment he laid his mother’s sick head in his lap, petting her hair as he slowly killed her from poison. They wouldn’t leave rat poison out for him. Even if they did, he would have never used it in the way they would want him to- he was determined to stay alive.

The ‘stove’ was a makeshift little furnace of a fireplace with a pot nearby for use, but there were fire-starting tools nearby and more than enough wood. He glanced back behind him, making sure he didn’t see the shapes of his jailers, and then set to work as quick as he could

Fingers around flint, flint and wood and sparks from his hands, burning and painful but needed, red hot on his iced skin. Then the sparks got bigger and brighter, hurt his eyes with cold looks, and left him cold in their wake, heating him up only just so, only enough to be left cold and desolate and empty but empty like something was hollowed out inside of his head, like a great burrowing insect was burrowing through the cotton brains and digging its icy little feet against the plates of his skull pushing clicking scraping scrape scrape scrape scrape

A fire was going.

Ogata still wasn’t warming up.

The warmth of the flame flickered against his chest, teasing as if promising to do the job it was meant to. But Ogata was left with a deep ache. A void settling deep in his abdomen. Nothing was working. There had to be something to do- some way to warm up. He could stick his hands in the fire, but they’d want to see him do that, see him go up in flames.

What to do, what to do…

He was freezing. Cold water sloshing around his head. Felling his lungs. He could drown on dry land, but that’d give them a laugh too, surely.

He looked around the kitchen quickly, desperately, feeling the last dredges of his energy reserves start to slip. He needed something to keep him going, and quickly- the ice on his fingers grew and thickened, beginning to slowly trap him in. He couldn’t be boxed up again like that, being unable to move- claustrophobic, unable to see, unable to close his ears and stop hearing

Nearby. There was some food.

His thoughts were already muddled to all hell, but he thought that maybe this would be an opportunity. An opportunity of some kind… All he needed to do was warm himself up from the inside. If he fixed things internally, then maybe it would keep him from freezing over.

Ogata’s stomach was nauseous. That was irrelevant. He needed the energy anyway. Looking among the ingredients, he groggily tried to grasp for some, something, anything to make into a quick broth- something simple, quick, able to be downed in a matter of minutes. Something that wouldn’t make him throw up, maybe…

And then he saw the anglerfish there.

The bones were just as he remembered them. The large, bulbous, ugly eye stared back at him. It reminded him of his mother’s eyes- dead as a fish. Well, no wonder Father never came. Who would want to greet someone as ugly as a dead fish? Maybe Hanazawa should have reconsidered, because now as was, gutted like a dead fish, intestines all askew and writhing like eels, he made a perfect match for his dead fish eyed mistress.

He tried to ignore it at first. Anglerfish nabe may have been his favorite, even still, but that didn’t mean that it was an easy dish in the slightest. It’d take too much time and he was still cold, icicles were inching out of his eyeballs, straightforward, mapping out the direction of his gaze

And yet, he dropped the pieces of anglerfish meat into the pot. Dead eyes and writhing intestines trying to find purchase in the broth danced together and then started smoking with vegetables.

Ogata prepared things precisely and with care, as he handled many chores in life. It was all about the process. There was a way to cut vegetables so that they all cooked at the same rate, and a way to add those hated shiitake mushrooms in a manner that wasn’t outright offensive to taste. He didn’t have to eat the mushrooms, but at this point, it was routine.

Routine. It was familiar, for those days that he tried to impress his mother, back before he learned that no one cares how much you copy them. It was a bit of safety. Familiarity was rare.

Ogata slowly began to thaw, over the steam from the anglerfish nabe, and the ache in his core wasn’t anything to fear. It was routine. He had always been empty, in the end. Empty, trying to fill that void up with reactions or with chaos or with whatever else he could find.

This was apathy. But apathy was better than fear, and safer than the gnawing euphoria of watching the nabe simmer down, because after all- it was nothing more than food.

The water dripped from his face and into the pot. The blood that froze to his hand dripped into the brew. His eyes inflamed and burst, pouring everything into the pot. Dead eyes, eel intestines- and now bits of Ogata, trying to warm up, trying to pretend that it was working. Pretending that there wasn’t still something terribly cold and coldly terrible. Something that was sapping his strength.

He held onto a spoon like a lifeline and began to stir. And continued to stir. And stirred. Occasionally an eye would vindictively peek out at him, or intestines would writhe helplessly, or his red red blood would turn the broth bright red, redder than the red that poured from his brother’s face. He still stirred.

It was automatic, expended no energy. He needed to conserve energy. How else was he supposed to warm up all the way and think clearly? This was the best option. He was just waiting for the moment when he had the energy to break away, the energy to eat. The nabe never burned, and he never thought on that. Focused on conserving energy. Focused on trying to feel the warmth.

There were voices.

Ogata paid them no mind. He could pretend that he was making food for them, his captors. He could charm them, tell his sob story, get his gun. Warm up. Get his gun and warm up, conserving energy.

Soon, he’d be able to move. He’d be warm enough soon. He stirred the pot gingerly, watching the broth boil.

“... how long…”

“There’s nothing in that…”

“-can’t leave him-!”

“-every day, for hours,”

Ogata continued to make anglerfish nabe.

#golden kamuy #golden kamui #ogata hyakunosuke #tanigaki genjirou #sugimoto saichi #psychological horror #character study kinda?#light angst #mmmm love having weird goddamn dreams and then being so unsettled i have to turn it into a fic #anyway #my writing #fanfiction

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