⭑.ᐟ Eren Yeager || Kinktober - ⋆✴︎ ̊。⋆

To say you were the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen was an understatement.

You were stunning, soft, chubby in all the right places, with that kind of glow that made people stop mid-sentence. And on top of that, you were actually funny, like, genuinely funny, not the fake giggly kind. Everyone naturally drifted toward you. That part didn’t really bother him much; he liked seeing you light up a room.

But lately, it was the way those damn frat boys looked at you that got under his skin. The way their eyes lingered a little too long on your ass when you walked by, or how they’d suddenly find a reason to hang around when you walked him to class.

They didn’t even see him,

Just you.

And every time, it made his jaw clench a little tighter, like he was one second away from saying something he’d regret.

Granted, he never actually told you how he felt. God, he wanted to—so many times—but every time he tried, the words stuck in his throat. You were perfect, in that effortless way. And him? He was just a benched soccer player, half invisible most days. Still, you always made time for him. You’d sit with him after practice, laugh at his dumb jokes, share your snacks like it was nothing. That’s just the kind of person you were—kind, easy to be around. And maybe that’s exactly why it drove him insane to see those guys circling you like vultures. They didn’t deserve to even look at you. He couldn’t stand the thought of their hands on you, their voices in your ear. So, he kept close—closer than he probably should’ve—because if he didn’t, someone else would.

The next time you and Eren were hanging out, it happened. Some blonde frat boy with a smug, too-practiced grin swaggered up and asked you to come by his place—said he “needed help with chemistry.” You, being you, agreed without a second thought. You were too sweet for your own good, too trusting. Eren knew you just wanted to help, but he also knew exactly what that guy meant.

As the frat boy walked off, Eren caught the tail end of his conversation with his friends—heard him brag about how he “might hit tonight.” That was it. His stomach turned, and a hot, sharp anger burned through him.

After school, while you were heading home, he acted on impulse. He scribbled a note, slipped it into the guy’s locker, pretending to be you.

Meet me behind the school. Wanna to talk. ♡

When the guy showed up, all cocky and grinning, Eren was already there waiting. The rest was a blur of fists and fury. By the time he stopped, the guy was groaning on the pavement, blood on his nose and pride shattered. Eren grabbed the frat boy’s phone, opened his messages, and sent one final text.

Sorry, something came up. Can’t make it to the study session.

He dropped the phone at the guy’s feet and left him there, bloodied and groaning. Didn’t even look back. From then on, it became a habit, no, a mission. For the next two weeks, anyone who so much as looked at you the wrong way mysteriously backed off. A guy who’d “accidentally” brushed your ass in the hallway? Gone. The one who asked you out after class? Suddenly, “too busy” to talk to you. You never suspected a thing, just figured people were weird. But Eren knew. He made sure of it.

.

A week later, you were sitting together in your room, music low, your legs tucked under you as you scrolled through your phone. You mentioned it so casually—like it was nothing. “Oh, there’s this guy... he asked me out on a date.”

Eren froze. His stomach dropped. His eyes darted to yours, wide and a little wild. “Y–you’re going on a date..?” he asked, voice rough and strained. His throat felt dry. “Wi—with who?”

He tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His fingers tightened around the hem of his sleeve, knuckles pale, like he was holding something back.