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“Jesus, Eren—”
“Shh, shh,” he says in a too loud voice, waving his hand in [Name]’s face, eyes still on the screen, “this is the best part.”
“Eren—” she hisses.
The video on his phone, a spidering crack in the corner of the screen giving an added layer of vulgarity to the content of it, shows a man skateboarding and attempting to jump about a million stairs in some park—and the board losing grip beneath him and landing vertically on the bottom. And the man landing right on it.
[Name] cringes away as Eren bounces his legs under the table, a grin splitting the bottom half of his face. “Good lord,” she says, pinching the bridge of her nose, pen still between two fingers.
“Moron,” says Eren between laughs. “Although I don’t blame him for trying. God, imagine what his di—”
“Excuse me.”
The librarian has come from nowhere, her mouth pressed in a firm line. Eren’s brow arches, otherwise unaffected, meanwhile [Name] is tempted to Google the nearest black hole to jump into. Under the table, she slaps his thigh, urging him to shut the fuck up while also getting the message across that she wants to beat him up when this is over.
“There are folks trying to study,” the librarian starts.
Eren beats [Name] to the punch, laying a hand over hers on the table before she can get a word out. “So sorry,” he says. “It’s my bad. I'm a terrible influence on this one,” he adds almost conspiratorially, nodding his head towards [Name]. He gives one of his winning smiles, and she finds yet another reason to cringe, this time at his blatant arrogance.
“This isn’t the first time I’ve had to speak to you, sir,” the librarian says, utterly unaffected by Eren’s charms.
She closes her textbook and notebook. “We’ll head out,” she assures the librarian with what she hopes is a polite smile. She grabs Eren’s wrist before he can get another word out, nearly setting them at a run.
The library doors swing shut behind them and she groans as they descend the stairs, Eren taking two at a time and staring down at his phone again. The sun is out and the sky is clear of a single cloud, a gorgeous day. It being Saturday, the campus is crowded with groups on the grass and walking about.
“You’re an embarrassment,” she says, shouldering her bag. “I can’t take you anywhere.”
“Wasn’t that fucking crazy?”
“It was. I’ve never been kicked out of a library before meeting you.”
Eren looks over his shoulder to look at her, then turns on the heel of his beat up Converse to walk backwards, keeping pace with her strides with his long legs. “No,” he says, “I meant the video.”
She rubs at a spot above her brow. “We’re still on that?”
“Shit, I wouldn’t be able to walk for days.”
“How about talk? Is there something I can do to you that would make you finally stop talking and let me study?”
The crooked tilt of Eren’s grin immediately lets her know she’s walked into a trap. “You could give me a kiss, princess. Don’t think I’d have much to say after that.”
Her eyes roll. “If only it were so easy.”
Eren comes up short, causing her to nearly trip over her own feet. “How about we test it?” He leans in, the cologne on the underside of his jaw almost dizzying. She has no name for it other than rugged.
“I’d rather not,” she says, staring into his pretty green eyes.
“Hey, guys.”
Eren spins around, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He steps out of the way for [Name] to see that Pieck and Porco have walked up, friends of a friend, more acquaintances than anything else. She thinks they grew up with Reiner or someone close to him, something like that. Regardless, they know Eren best (everyone always does) and Eren raps knuckles with Porco. “Sup.”
“How’s it going?” says Porco, giving them both a nod.
“This one ruined my studying,” she says, and shoots a glare at Eren.
Eren snorts and links an arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his firm frame. She stumbles into him, utterly unable to move. She sometimes forgets that he’s a closeted gym rat.
“This one’s allergic to fun,” he says of her. She stares up at him and hopes he can see she’s imagining his death. Does he ever not have that stupid lopsided smirk on his face?
“He pretty much got us kicked out of the library.”
There’s a strange, inexplicable pause as Porco and Pieck glance at each other, then back at her and Eren. Porco says, “What were you guys…doing?”
Immediately, from his tone and the silence, her face heats up. The implication of what she’d said hits her with fresh ears. “What? No, we were—”
She knows Eren has caught on from his sudden obnoxious laugh that instantly interrupts anything coming out of her mouth. He says, “Yeah, this one just can’t keep her hands off of me.”
“Eren—”
“How long have you two even been together?” asks Pieck.
[Name]’s jaw drops. “What? No, no, we aren’t—”
And Eren takes it and runs. His arm drops from her shoulders to around her waist, somehow pulling her in even closer. He screws up his mouth and cocks his head as he says, “God, it’s been so long…I can’t even remember…”
“We aren’t dating,” she says a little too sharply, finally working her way out of his grip and giving him a small shove.
Pieck’s brow furrows. “Seriously?”
At that sudden scrutiny from the two of them, her face reddens. She’s suddenly feeling a little too hot under their gaze. The fact that she’s managed to make near strangers think that Eren is her boyfriend…What kind of impression must they be leaving for everyone? Did the librarian think the same thing?
Of course, Eren looks positively delighted, like the sun is shining only for him. “Not for lack of trying,” he says. Him and Porco share a look that makes her withdraw even deeper inside herself, some guy thing that she feels like she wasn’t supposed to have witnessed.
“Sorry,” says Pieck, visibly flustered. “It’s just that…well, just from the way you guys act…”
“We’re really close,” she says, trying and seemingly failing a nonchalance that is a struggle to muster. And she doesn’t want Pieck to feel bad, either.
But why am I so fucking embarrassed?
“Right,” says Pieck, her tone clearly there to assure [Name] that there’s nothing weird and that this isn’t awkward. But drawing attention to it only makes her feel weirder.
Eren, her knight in shining armor, says, “Well, it was nice seeing you guys.”
“You gonna be at your brother’s tonight?” asks Porco.
“Was thinking about it.”
They knock knuckles again, and Pieck shoots a shy, friendly smile towards her, an offer of some form of condolence. She accepts the smile and offers her own before the four part ways. She just wants to forget the whole thing. It’s a good thing Pieck and Porco aren’t the type to harp on something and try to get under your skin. Unlike—
“You denied that really quickly,” says Eren, walking by her side. “Part of me thinks it’s because you have a little crush.”
“On Porco, maybe.”
“Ouch. Wow,” he says. He shakes his head in mock-solemnity. “You think you can trust someone…”
“What about you? You were quick to agree to it.”
Eren snorts. “And that surprises you?”
No, but she just wants to bite back at him. Why is she always the one squirming? What could possibly get under Eren’s skin? She’s determined to find out, but at this rate, Hell will freeze over first.
“You and your little crush…”
“Again: you’re surprised?” Eren’s brow is lifted, baby hairs falling on his forehead. Right as his teeth show in his smile, she looks away. “You know I’ve always wanted to get in your pants.”
“Don’t remind me.”
Their first meeting is something she tries her damndest never to think about for reasons she can’t quite pinpoint.
It was freshman year, only about a month into classes, and she’d made a friend in Armin, easily one of the friendliest people she’d ever met. Armin and her were just study partners, occasionally meeting up on the weekends or after class to help each other out. One day they were in the library when Armin got a text from a friend asking if he could pick up something—a key? a textbook? she can’t even remember what—and when the friend had arrived in her and Armin’s corner of the library, she’d felt something within her hit the floor.
Eren, no matter what or who you are, gives a strong first impression. Granted, anytime he’s around it’s hard to ignore him, but still: that first time feels like being hit by a truck. He’d been wearing gray sweats and a black t-shirt, so innocuous and nothing special, but everything else had captured her: his brown hair tied up in a bun, something she would come to learn was a constant; the green flash of his eyes, almost mythically pretty; the stacks of rings on his painted fingers, big and soft-looking.
She in her hoodie and ripped jeans must’ve left a similar impression on him because the moment he caught sight of her beside his best friend, he’d stopped mid-word, mouth parted as he stared so openly at her, and then he’d said, “Whoa.” Then his eyes had flashed back to Armin. “Why do you always find the pretty ones?”
From there, she’d folded into their friend group with such ease she wondered how it’d never felt like this before. It took maybe a little too long to realize that it was because, finally, she’d found her people. She’d never understood how friends, no matter how devout, could lose touch once high school is over until it finally happened to her, how texts and calls become sparse, how lives start drifting apart. Then she’d met Armin. Then Eren and, after him, Mikasa, Historia, Connie, Sasha, Jean—all of them, her best friends. Some nights, when they’re all wasted and singing and dancing, she looks at all of them and tears up at the thought that maybe she could lose these people too.
And Eren is always there looking back at her, almost like he can read her thoughts, can see the fear hiding in her eyes. And he always gives her a smile. A reassurance: This is forever.
———
This morning, it’s Historia’s turn for the music. She’s sitting on the counter in an oversized hoodie, kicking her short legs back and forth as she queues up more of her bubblegum pop, mouthing the words along as her head bounces to the beat. The bluetooth radio in the corner of the kitchen is at full-volume, as all of them like it.
Mikasa is tapping away at her laptop sitting on a bar stool across from [Name], who’s making all of them French toast. Ever since the three of them moved in together last summer, it’s been utter domestic bliss. If life is like this forever, she’ll never know a bad day.
The pan sizzles and basks the room in the sweet smell as she flips the toast, listening to Mikasa explain her latest essay to Historia, who is offering the occasional encouragement or advice. [Name] listens with one ear, mostly drifting through her own unpiloted thoughts. She has laundry to do today, maybe she’ll go get a coffee—
“Are you and Jean doing anything?” asks Historia.
“We were going to see a movie and get food,” says Mikasa, eyes glued to the screen as she types (how the hell can she do that?), “but he got called into work this morning.”
“Ew. Why’d he say yes?”
“Money, obviously.”
“Well,” says Historia, turning to [Name], “what about you and Eren?”
“No, him and Armin are—” She stops, staring blankly at the French toast before laying down the spatula and staring at the blonde. “Why do you say it like that?”
“Like what?” asks Historia as Mikasa snorts, hiding her face behind the laptop as she mutters, “Oh, boy.”
“You asked if Mikasa is doing anything with Jean today, and then asked if I’m doing anything with Eren.”
Historia blinks. “…And?”
“Mikasa is dating Jean.”
“Oh, boy,” Mikasa says again.
“So?” says Historia.
“You make it sound like me and Eren are, like, a couple.”
“It has more to do with how you are always hanging out. I figured if you had plans today, it was most likely with him.”
“I have other friends,” she says, a desperation gripping her. She doesn’t even know where this is coming from, but there’s a bud of frustration blooming within her.
“I know that,” says Historia. “I’m just saying.” She shrugs, looking at a loss. “I don’t know. It just came out.”
Mikasa sighs and shuts the laptop, resting her cheek on her closed fist. “[Name], when will you accept it?”
“Accept what?” she asks, although she isn’t so sure she wants to hear the answer.
“That you and Eren are basically a couple without the fucking.”
Historia’s brows raise nearly to her hairline. Her eyes widen and she turns away, suddenly very fascinated by the view outside the window.
[Name]’s heart sits in her throat. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re all over each other,” says Mikasa. At the look that’s given to her, she concedes: “Fine, he’s all over you. But you’re constantly together—”
“We’re all constantly together! I haven’t gone a day without being with any of you.”
“But you and Eren, even when all of us are around, are together in a way that’s a little different.”
“But—”
Mikasa goes on, paying no mind to interrupting her: “—you’re constantly flirting—”
“What?” she says, unable to keep the shock from her voice. “Ok, that one’s bullshit.”
Historia hops down from the counter and nudges [Name] out of the way with her hip, picking up where she left off on the French toast before they can burn.
Mikasa says, “How is it bullshit?”
“Eren is the one who flirts.”
“And you get fake-annoyed and say something mean to get him all riled up. Historia, doesn’t he love when she’s mean to him?”
Historia shakes her head. “I’m not part of this.”
“But you are,” says [Name]. “This all started because you said me and him are always hanging out.”
“I mean, that’s just a fact.”
“Why does it bother you so much?” asks Mikasa, eyes narrowing not unkindly.
Even Historia glances up, intrigued to hear the answer.
Her eyes bounce between the two girls. “Oh my God,” she says. “You’re both sick.”
“It’s interesting!” protests Historia.
Suddenly from her pocket, she feels her phone vibrating. She checks the screen and says nothing. But Mikasa jumps on it, annoyingly guessing correctly: “Speak of the devil. If you answer that, it has to be on speaker. I want to remove any temptation for some phone sex.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I hate you both,” she mutters as an afterthought before answering the phone, laying it on the counter. “Hello?”
Eren’s voice comes through: “Hey, so if you’re not busy later—”
“Eren, just so you know, you’re on speaker, so behave,” says [Name]. Historia hits her arm.
There’s a long silence. She can hear the smile in his voice. “What are you wearing?”
Mikasa holds her arms out like a magician showing off their trick: Voila.
“I’m going to kill you, Eren.”
He groans low in his chest. “God, I love when you talk dirty to—”
She ends the call.
In the ensuing silence, Mikasa takes a long sip from her orange juice, eyeing [Name] over the glass. When she sets it back on the counter, there’s a gleefully evil look in her eye as she smiles, vindicated. “I’ll take one thing back: I may have spoken too soon about the no fucking.”
———
“Will you stop moving?”
“I’m sorry, but—God, I can’t stand to watch this.”
Eren removes his hand from her touch and grabs for the TV remote, switching to some reality show with housewives screaming at each other. He sighs contentedly. “That’s more zen.”
“What was even on before?”
“Some sports shit.”
[Name] dunks the brush for fresh polish, grabbing for his hand yet again. “You’ll stay still now?”
“Anything for you, princess,” he says, and winks.
“Hardly,” she mutters with a scoff. His nails are so big, the purple paint working smoothly over them. She tries not to look at the veins creeping up his forearm, the glinting silver rings on his knuckles.
“Where’s Mikasa and Historia?”
“Mikasa is out with Jean,” she says, eyes zeroed in on getting the polish evenly spread, “and Historia is at the gym.”
“D’you know you stick your tongue out when you’re concentrating?”
She looks at him through her lashes. There’s a dangerously soft look on his face. “Hush.” She looks back down.
Eren huffs dreamily and falls back in his chair. “Don't look up at me like that when you have your tongue out,” he says. “It makes a man daydream.”
She rolls her eyes, his words not even warranting a response.
Capping the polish, she leans down and blows cool air over his nails to help them dry.
Eren barks a laugh. “Definitely don’t blow on me either. You’re asking for trouble.”
“You’re sick.”
“Lovesick, maybe.”
“Eren.” His words twist within her, but she shoves them aside to finally get to it. It’s been about a month since Mikasa cornered her, and it hasn’t left her thoughts ever since. Crossing her arms, she sits back, eyeing him. “Why haven’t you dropped this yet?”
“Dropped what?”
“This…this. The flirting.”
“Why would I? I'm getting so close to breaking you, I can feel it. Granted, longest three years of my life,” he says, laying a heroic yet humble hand on his chest, careful not to smudge, “but I’ve proven my strength, I think.”
“Do you even really want to be with me?”
Eren blinks, the smile on his face remaining but something strange clouding his eyes. “What?”
“This game you’re playing. Everyone’s been asking me if we’re hooking up or dating.”
“That’s a win in my books.”
“What if we meet someone? I could meet someone tomorrow and want to date them. You, too. It’d have to stop then.”
Eren hesitates. He rubs his eye with a knuckle, shoving his long hair out of his face. “Then…then it’d stop,” he says carefully. “Why, are you seeing someone?”
“Well, no, but I could be. And you’re constantly with a new girl.”
There’s a tightness in the air between them. Eren looks up, their eyes meeting. She stares back at him, unsure of what silent conversation is taking place, but knowing that there is one. She’s never really seen Eren like this, and it takes a moment for her to place a word to it: unnerved.
“What if one day you really like one of them,” she goes on, “and you want to have something more?”
“Doubtful,” says Eren through a hollow laugh. “I’d stop if it gets to any point, alright?”
[Name]’s mouth presses down. The fact he doesn’t want to stop at all, that isn’t so easy to get him to keep from flirting, rubs her in the wrong way. Maybe not the wrong way, but in a way that she decidedly doesn’t like. A way that makes her mind wander.
“Can you tie my hair up for me?” he asks, jerking his head to get hair out of his eyes. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Sure,” she says, and takes the proffered elastic from his wrist, fingertips brushing his warm and veiny skin. She stands behind him and slips her hands through his silky hair, trying to make quick work of it before she can get distracted. She curls his hair up and ties it in a knot.
But she hovers. Her hand sits on his shoulder, eyes on the little wisps at the nape of his neck that can’t quite fit into the bun. Keeping her hand on his shoulder, she walks around him. He opens his eyes and looks up at her in silence, the strong line of his jaw straining as she inspects the wisps of hair over his forehead, too.
Again, something inexplicable passes between them, but this time she has a small feeling of what it may be. It terrifies her.
Eren’s lips part, and in those milliseconds before he speaks, her body tightens, worrying at what she may hear.
“Do you wanna come to Zeke’s tonight?”
———
This isn’t the first time she’s gone to Eren’s brother’s house. She still isn’t quite sure what Zeke does for work and Eren doesn’t seem to know either, but he has a gigantic house regardless. And because he’s a Jaeger, he likes to party.
Nursing a beer, [Name] feels the residual awkwardness of earlier that day pooling in her stomach more than the alcohol is. What happened? Anything that gets Eren quiet and serious is always cause for concern. And he’s been weird ever since, driving mostly in silence to Zeke’s, Armin, Connie, and Jean doing most of the talking in the backseat. She had just stared out the window, hands clasped in her lap.
Now she’s standing alone at the drinks table watching people cannonball into the sparklingly lit pool, an artificial tint of a beckoning blue. There’s a couple making out in one of the lawn chairs not far enough away from her, the plastic threatening to crack beneath their combined weights.
There must be at least a hundred people here tonight. Whenever Zeke throws a party, people flock.
The open back slider emits the very man, Eren by his side. They’re talking, Zeke gesturing wildly with his hands. Normally she’d slip into Eren’s side, begrudgingly accept the arm he instinctively slips around her waist, but tonight she keeps to herself. She isn’t even sure why she agreed to come. She wants to go home.
Eren’s eyes briefly meet hers, and he arches a brow: You good? She nods, forcing a smile onto her face, because he can always tell when she’s not being honest.
He slips into the crowd, out of view.
Eren trails his brother, discussing some bullshit he clocked out of minutes ago; there’s no way he’s catching up by now. Zeke stops short and Eren looks up, broken from his never ending reverie by the sight of Reiner and Porco milling about the edge of the pool. He raps knuckles with them both as Zeke continues talking a mile a minute, the lights around the yard and within the pool glinting in his glasses.
Eren’s eyes drift. He sees half-naked bodies, girls jumping and screaming and laughing, and can’t find it within himself to care.
He finds [Name] still standing by the table, a hip cocked as she leans against a column, phone screen lighting up her face. She’s wearing a sundress, the one he’s always hated the most because of how good it looks on her. Fits her like a goddamn glove. He takes a swig of his red cup, not even remembering what he’d put in it.
An elbow nudges his arm. He half-turns to find Porco has abandoned Reiner to Zeke, and has drifted to him instead. Porco nods his head across the way towards Eren’s girl. “You’re really not dating her, huh?”
Don’t remind me. “Nope.” It’s the first time in Eren’s life that he’s ever answered a question with one word.
“I hate to do this to you, man,” says Porco, “but would you mind if I made a move?”
A wave crashes. Eren looks to the pool, confused, before he realizes that the sound had been the blood rushing through his head.
He stares at Porco. Porco’s a good-looking dude. Eren himself would be a little interested if the guy would just get a minor personality tweak. Would [Name] be into him? With a start, Eren realizes he doesn’t even know what her type is.
And then he looks across the way. He looks at her with fresh eyes, the way Porco would be seeing her: the gorgeous legs that are crossed at the ankle; the fall of the dress and the way it squeezes all the right places the way Eren wants to; the soft look on her face as she reads whatever the hell is on her phone. How could Porco not? How is every guy refraining from not approaching her?
“I would mind,” says Eren, still staring.
“Huh?” asks Porco. Whether because he couldn’t hear or is confused, Eren doesn’t know. He doesn’t care, either.
“No, she’s off-limits.”
“Why? She got a boyfriend?”
Eren’s jaw squeezes. [Name] clicks off her phone and pushes away from the column, walking towards the house. “She’s about to,” he says, and abandons Porco before the guy can even think of what to say.
Eren slips through the crowd, knocking into shoulders and bumping into bodies, but he keeps his eyes on that open door she disappeared through.
———
One of the many problems with the house being so goddamn big is that no matter how many times she’s been here, she always gets spun around and forgets where things are. The living room is packed with people smoking and talking, sharing stories. She finds the foyer right as one of them recommends playing Spin the Bottle.
The winding staircase leads her, of course, upstairs, but then what? She opens one door and finds a couple fooling around, slamming it back shut before they can even notice.
Right as she opens the next door and finds what she’s looking for—the bathroom—a voice calls to her. She turns right as Eren reaches the top of the stairs. “What’s up?” she says. “Are we leaving—”
But Eren doesn’t give her another breath. “Can we talk?”
She swallows. “Yeah.”
“C’mon,” he says, and his fingers wrap snugly around her wrist, leading her into the bathroom, shutting the door before she can protest.
The silence is deafening, the music thrumming against the walls. She swears she can hear the couple moaning in the next room over.
“What’s wrong?”
Eren reaches around and itches the back of his neck. “I just realized I wanted to tell you that I actually am interested in someone,” he says. “Remember? What we were talking about earlier,” he adds when she stares at him, frozen.
She licks her lips. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, I remember.”
“Well, I definitely want to get with her. Date her, even. And you said if I do, that means I drop the act, right? No more teasing, just normal, right?”
[Name] crosses her arms when she realizes she’s starting to tremble. She nods. “Yeah.” Tears prick at the corner of her eyes, and she isn’t sure why. But hearing him say these words is making her want to vomit.
“So, no more act.”
“Who—”
“Since we’re ready to be honest,” he says, and steps closer until he’s inches away, his voice dropping nearly to a growl, “then I need to tell you that I hate this fucking dress because everytime you wear it I just want to bend you over and make sure you know you’re mine.”
[Name] looks up at him. “What?”
Eren, so tall, so broad, keeps walking as he bullies her into stepping backward, staring up at him as he says, “And I guess I have to tell you that everytime you wear this dress it takes everything in me not to just throw you down and bury my head between your legs and let you suffocate me with how wet I make you.”
“Eren,” she gasps just as her back hits the door. His hand comes to the lock and turns it before his hands come up on either side of her head, leaning in close. She can smell the cologne again, her head spinning. How does she know this is really happening? “I thought—I thought you wanted to—”
“I want you,” he says. And for the first time in all these years, she knows it’s real because the smile is gone. He’s painfully serious, eyes hooded and chest heaving. “When you said that today, all I could think was, ‘Why in the fuck would I want anyone else when I already have you?’”
You’re mine. [Name] shoves Eren in the chest, a moment of confusion ghosting over his pretty face, before she swings her arms around his neck and kisses him. His hot breath hits her lips, already parting her own for him as he takes her in, the kiss wet and messy and she’s growing delirious at the touch of his soft mouth, his hands gripping her waist, the rings digging into her plush skin.
Eren bends his knees and grasps the back of her thighs, lifting her and sitting her ass on the edge of the counter as he keeps kissing her, a moan leaving her mouth when he leans her back. His wet, hot mouth ghosts a trail down her neck until he’s biting her neck, sucking a mark onto her. She grasps the back of his neck as she arches into his touch. Eren’s hand grasps her clothed breast, his large hand massaging her over the dress and gripping the swell of flesh like it’s his.
“I’m fucking crazy,” he says as he sucks a second hickey a little lower. “I should’ve done this years ago.”
“Same here,” she says, barely able to catch her breath.
“You’re so pretty,” he says. His teeth scrape against her cleavage. “If I touch you, how wet are you going to be?”
Thank God she’s already sitting down. “Very,” she says.
“Christ,” he says. His hand immediately slips between her legs and when he feels her, he groans, his forehead falling to her cheek. He gathers her wetness. “Jesus, princess, you’re going to kill me.”
Eren drops to his knees. His fingers drag her ankles until she’s barely on the edge of the counter, and he spreads her legs. She isn’t even embarrassed, too concerned with getting him right where she wants him.
Eren’s hands grip her thighs. The coolness of his rings make her squirm, but he forces her legs apart. He moans at the sight of her soaked underwear. He hooks his thumbs in them and drags it down, the fabric coming off of one leg but still hanging onto the other. But Eren doesn’t take the time to remove them, already spreading her open and putting his mouth to her.
She gasps at the touch of his tongue. Her head falls back, leaning on the glass as her fingers thread through his hair. His own fingers spread her apart to taste more of her, moaning against her core as he laps up every drop. “Tastes so sweet, princess.”
“Fuck,” she whimpers, “fuck, Eren.”
He’s too, too good at this. He teases her, his tongue exploring her entrance and gathering her wetness, then flicking her clit in a steady rhythm that has her squirming, waiting for her to get louder before going back to her entrance, spurring her on more as he perfectly avoids making her come. She should’ve guessed he’d be such an asshole about it.
He sinks a finger inside of her. “Can’t wait to fuck you,” he says as he keeps going, making the most obscene sounds as his mouth works at her. Her chest turns red and she looks away, embarrassed by how undone he renders her.
Eren’s tongue flicks at her clit, her hips wantonly thrusting against his mouth, and his eyes close blissfully, letting her use him. Right as her breath quickens, though, Eren pulls away. “Please,” she says, voice softened but desperate. “Please, Eren.”
“I could come just to you begging,” he says. He stands up, sucking on his finger. Then he licks his lips. Never did she think something so simple could render her so dumb. He leans in for a kiss. “You taste so damn good, princess—”
There’s a knock. She gasps, hand covering her mouth as Eren turns. To her horror and with a small laugh, Eren unlocks and opens the door. She barely gets her legs closed and dress pulled down in time.
Connie stares at Eren. “We’ve been looking for you. Jesus, what’re you—” And then he sees over Eren’s shoulder: [Name], neck covered in hickeys and dress rumpled. And the smug, satisfied smile on Eren’s face.
“Uhhh,” says Connie, dumbfounded, “nevermind. I’ll leave you two to it.”
“Springer, hold on.” Eren lays a hand on Connie’s shoulder. “If I know you guys as well as I think I do…at the very least I hope Jean didn’t win.”
Connie breaks into a smile. Eren claps his shoulder and releases him. Connie shoots them both finger-guns. “Get to it, lovebirds. Use protection!” he calls as he disappears down the stairs.
Eren leaves the door open and comes back to stand between her parted legs. Before he can kiss her, she says, “What was that about?”
“I’m willing to bet they were all banking on when we’d get together. And given that reaction, I think Connie just became a rich man.”
Normally she’d be peeved, defensive, but all she can think of is Eren’s mouth and the line in his jeans. She kisses him, lips and tongues tangling. She forgets where she ends and he starts, and likes it that way. “Can we please leave?”
“Fuck yes,” says Eren. He takes her hand and helps her jump down from the counter, keeping her steady as she smooths down her dress. She looks in the mirror, fixing her hair. There’s nothing to be done about the hickeys.
She can imagine what she’s going to hear tomorrow morning. But for now, all she can think about is Eren tugging on her hand and dragging her to his car. And she’s willing to bet they won’t even make it to the apartment.