lunaevault
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“That’s too bad. I guess you made your decision,” he mocked as he smacked his dick against your quivering pussy, appearing so satisfied with how broken your voice came out.
“E-Eren...” You sobbed, sitting up on shaking arms. “O-One more chance, please... I want a baby... Please, I want a baby with you.” You never asked for much—if anything at all—so why couldn't he give you this one thing?
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TLDR; Eren and his wife try for a baby.- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,885
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by lunaevault
16 Aug 2026
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the only person who truly knows what eren is like - is you.
Bookmarked by lunaevault
13 Aug 2026
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Mr. Jaeger was a mean, mean old man. Albeit, he wasn’t all that old, but he carried himself as if he were pushing 90. He complains a shit ton about his aching joints, about the war he fought and won, about you annoying kids always expecting him to slave away in the kitchen to make you all snacks whenever you come over.
But, despite the way he comes off, he is and looks everything but. Mr. Jaeger is a fine, fine older man. From old war pictures, you could see how handsome he was, and the man only aged like fine wine. He was tall, a little stockier in his older age, his stomach and thighs soft whenever he shows them off to get in his pool whenever you come over on summer days. He has crows feet creeping in at the corner of his eyes, smile lines—if he were to ever even smile—his hair a mush of salt and pepper and chestnut brown. His mustache has thickened a little over the years, his beard still cut close to his skin.
You want to feel it scratch against the inside of your thighs, if you’re being completely honest here.***
Or, you wanna fuck your best friends dad who is a total DILF.
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He’s not the first cherry you’ve popped and he won’t be the last
Or
In which you take Eren’s virginity in a storage cupboard.
Series
- Part 1 of The Simp Chronicles Smutty Oneshots
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(“It’s time to pray, sweetheart,” your mother gently hummed as she plaited your hair—)
Your arm drapes across your eyes. One leg bent lazily, the other trailing off the edge of the lounger, toes wiggling in time with the cicadas. Sunlight bathes your skin in a slow, golden embrace, its warm fingers catching in the hollow of your throat, accentuating the gentle dip of your belly button. The heat caramelises you, turning your skin bronzy and warm. You stretch, arms overhead, a soft sigh slipping from your lips like the heat has kissed you.
(—“the Devil’s lurking outside, waiting to come get the people who keep working, drinking, or dawdling,” your mother’s voice echoes, a whisper of warning carried on the summer air.)
You’ve come back all grown up.
Lilacs, particularly light purple ones, are often associated with the initial emotions and excitement of first love.
White lilacs are often seen as symbols of purity and youthful innocence.
Bookmarked by lunaevault
02 Aug 2026