One-Shots - Eren x Reader

Guys! I'm AFK!

CW: smut, nsfw, choking, praise kink, masturbation (f), oral receiving (m), teasing, mentions of gagging, exhibitionism, voyeurism, face fucking, swallowing

If there's any warning you don't understand, please, please google it. I don't want you to accidentally read something you're not comfortable with.

***

click, click, click, click

click, click, click, click

Was all you heard from his end—well—that, and a few profanities here and there.

You were a bit sleepy, not sure if from the pure boredom you were forced to endure, or the various empty candy wrappers that laid on the floor; maybe it could even be from the soothing, LED lights that stained the room a shivery dark purple. But what you were sure of, is that you have had enough.

You laid on your stomach, feet dangling in the air while scrolling through Instagram, quickly double-tapping the pictures that showed up on your home page.

"Jean! Jean, to your left. Yes, YES! Let's fucking goooo!"

You roll your eyes at the obnoxious screaming coming from the boy behind you.

You were mad. This was the third time he had invited you to his house, only to ditch you for his 'boys'. Why invite you, if all you're gonna do is lay on his bed while scrolling through apps? You can do that from the comfort of your home.

You've had enough.

"Eren," you say, turning to look at him.

He pulled his headset back to uncover one of his ears. "Yeah, babe. What's up?" Eyes fixated on the screen in front of him.

"Can you come here?"

"Baby," he sighs, "I'm in the middle of a match. I'll hang with you later." He covers his exposed ear with his headphone.

You scoff, straighten your body and stare at his black headboard again. When you go to pick up your phone — you get an idea.

You whip your head back to look at him.

Eren leaned forward, one hand on his keyboard, and the other on his mouse. He clicked on both the mouse and a few letters of the keyboard quickly. He was sitting on a black and dark blue gaming chair, and though it was big, his thighs still peeked from the sides; you could see them bouncing up and down. He had his game playing on two monitors, and by the looks of it, his team is doing well — too well, actually.

You let the idea sit in your head for a while.

"Fuck it," you say under your breath.

You stand and walk to his chair while looking around his gaming set. When you were standing directly behind him, you traced your fingers across his plush chest.

"I'm busy," he muttered, eyes never leaving the flashing screens in front of you.

You shake your head with a breathy laugh and look at his desk.

Ironically, you've always hated it. It's one of those tables whose sides are uncovered, left to expose everything that lies in between his feet and the wall. You despised how messy it looked. Every tangled cable that was plugged into the wall was left out in the open.

Every negative feeling or thought you've had of it is a bit funny now because what was one of your biggest pet peeves, may come in handy.

You slide your hands off of him and get on your hands and knees. You quietly crawl under his desk and he was so focused on his game, he didn't notice it.