Future Works

The Demon

(Armin x Reader) - Word Count: 3.7k

Creature: an evil spirit or devil, especially one thought to possess a person or act as a tormentor in hell,,, who just so happens to be a prince of Hell in this au.

Warnings: Slight Powerplay, Mentions of Manipulation, Unprotected Sex, (Slight) Breeding Kink

Quick Summary: after following instructions from an old leather book, you are suddenly visited by a supernatural being.

Extra Notes: 2 more days until Halloween!

You wiped the sweat collecting on your forehead with the back of your hand. You leaned back from exhaustion and took in the sight of your masterpiece in front of you. Decorated with pieces of you; locks of your hair, your blood steadily drying on the hardwood floor underneath you, and the book you had borrowed under your own name, you were connected indefinitely to the beautiful piece in front of you.

You sighed and grabbed the book you had borrowed from the college library. You read each step of the ritual intently, making sure not to miss a thing. First, form a pentagram with your blood - done. Second, place the lock of your hair at one of the star’s points - done. Third, write your intentions on a piece of paper and place it at the opposite point of your hair - done. Fourth, place the Prince of Hell, Belial’s, statuette at the top of the star - not done.

You reached behind you and grabbed the wooden statuette. It was a bitch to get your hands on this thing, which was surprising considering the shape of the wooden figure. It was originally structured in the 17th century, you assumed during the Salem Witch Trials or something cliché like that. And, the years of existence had definitely had an impact on the small figure.

Originally depicted as a demon with large wooden wings and an unforgettably attractive face that could bring any innocent young maiden onto their knees, whether to pray or to do something different. But now, the wooden statuette had eroded the demon’s face to an unrecognizable blur and only one of his wings was still attached to the figure, the other somewhere out in the world. But, you had the majority of the original figure and that’s all you needed, which was precisely what you explained to the pawn shop owner when you found this statuette on one of his shelves.

You placed the wooden statuette at the top point of the star. You could finally cross off the fourth part of the ritual, now onto the final step. You looked into the book, taking a deep breath before repeating the Latin words written on the fragile pages.

You weren’t sure you were even saying the words correctly, and you hoped you’d be graded on participation rather than correctness. You honestly doubted the demon Prince Belial would complain about being summoned because the Latin wasn’t said correctly. If you were bringing him back to the mortal world to wreak havoc, would he honestly care as long as you tried your best to say each word? He just shouldn’t expect so much from a college student who still cheats off of her roommates in class.

Each Latin word came roughly out of your mouth. You stumbled over every other syllable, furrowing your eyebrows and shaking your head with every breath of speaking. And after a few painful minutes, you finally reached the end of the words with a dramatic shout of the last three words. You threw your arms outwards, hoping the room would fill with smoke and within the midst of it would stand Prince Belial in front of you.

But, nothing. You were met with absolutely nothing.

You tilted your head to the side and reread over the parts of the ritual once, twice, three times. But, nope, you didn’t miss a step. The book, the blood, the hair, the intentions, the statuette - everything was as it should be. The only thing that was missing was Prince Belial, risen again.

You sighed and rolled your eyes, shutting the book with an impatient slam. You set the book down on the floor and rose from where you were sitting. You were heading off to the kitchen to chug a fifth of vodka out of exhaustion when it happened.

You felt your heart drop into your stomach as you stood in the doorway of the attic. Adrenaline was coursing quickly through your veins when you felt the shift of the air in the small room. He was here, you were sure of it - and you suddenly no longer needed to get drunk to forget the entire experience.

You gulped and, without turning around, spoke out loud, “Belial?”

You heard a light chuckle behind you, “Are we acquainted enough to be on a first name basis - if so, excuse me for not remembering you, dear.”

“No.” You turned around with wide eyes and a pounding heart. “We aren’t, but-”

“Then,” Prince Belial said sharply, “It’s Belial, Crown Prince of Hell to you.” With one flick of his finger from your chest to the floor, you were back on your knees with a yelp. “Understood?”

You nodded quickly, “I’m sorry, My Lord.”

“My Lord?” Belial smiled crookedly at you. “I like that too, you may call me My Lord, if that’s easiest for you to remember.”

You nodded slowly, “Okay, My Lord.”

“Mortals,” Prince Belial scoffed at you, “You’re all so easily bewildered by anything you don’t understand.”

He could see the way your gaze danced across his body, he watched every second you looked up and down. He was used to this reaction from mortals like you, the ones who aren’t afraid of him and are instead excited to be in his presence. The mortals who are stupid enough to go out of their ways to summon him, hoping for him to work miracles for them. But, he isn’t a god, he didn’t owe mortals a thing - and he doesn’t care about mortals the way angels do.

He wondered what mortals saw when they looked at him. He knew they couldn’t take in his true form, his pointed wings and leathery skin was invisible to a human’s naked eye. What they could see instead was his Earth form; his blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin, light freckles across his nose and cheeks. The only indication of him being a Prince of Hell in this Earth form were his black trousers and inhumanly toned body that he had worked on for centuries in the backrooms of Hell. So, maybe he did look beautiful to mortals in this form though he never really saw the appeal.

“What do you see?” Prince Belial raised his eyebrows at you. “And, do you like what you see?”

“You kind of-” You smiled weakly to yourself before continuing- “You kind of look like this boy I used to know.”

Belial perked a single eyebrow, “Oh?”

“Yeah, but,” You said as you shook your head quickly, “I haven’t seen him since I was a kid, he was my next door neighbor, actually. And- and he was really nice, he was about the same age you’re pretending to be right now, actually. He was a lot older than me, probably-” You took a moment to think- “Well, he was probably about twelve years older than me, if I remember correctly.”

Your words came flooding out of you, confessing years of pent up unresolved feelings. Things you wouldn’t tell the Prince of Hell was just how much you liked the boy, despite the drastic age gap. The way that even at the age of eight, you felt a certain attraction towards the boy - just the way a child develops a silly crush on their favorite Disney Channel character, nothing world altering.

Though, you had to admit - even now - that you would drop anything to be with him, and you wished the age gap hadn’t been so drastic, then maybe you would have actually been with the boy. Or, at least known where he was right now in life.

“Huh,” Belial said, “What was this boy’s name?”

Belial recognized this human emotion immediately, he was much too familiar with it considering he couldn’t feel it. Maybe he recognized it from the loads of girls who all summoned him forward with their blood and hair and statuette. Maybe he recognized it so quickly because of how many desperate girls all sat on their knees in front of him and fell for him slowly with each second he stood in this world, just like you.

“Armin,” You said with the ghost of a grin, “His name was Armin, and he was very nice.”

“Well, I’m not nice.” Belial kneeled to meet your eye length. “But, you may call me that name if it’ll help this whole exchange go quicker. But, I’m still your Lord, aren’t I?”

A large smile took up most of your face, “Of course, of course, My Lord-” You took a moment before continuing- “Armin.”

Armin smiled, “Now, that’s what I like to hear.” Armin reached forward and placed a gentle hand on the side of your head, his fingers barely touching your hair. “Do you feel more comfortable now that I’m Armin?”

You nodded slowly, “Overwhelmingly comfortable, in fact.”

“Perfect.” Armin’s hand steadily moved down your hair, curling the strands around his fingers. “Now, why did you summon me here? What can I do for you?”

“Well,” You said as heat flushed your face, “It’s a bit embarrassing.”

To say he already knew what you summoned him for was an understatement. He knew what girls who go looking for his ritual and his statuette always have in mind for him to do for them. He recognized the same signs in them that he saw with you; your fidgety hands, your desperate glances, your light smiles, and wide eyes. Oh, he knew exactly what you wanted from him. It was what every pretty, innocent girl wanted from him.

“That’s okay.” Armin took his hand back, taking a deep breath. “Take your time telling me, darling. I’ll be here until you can finally say it, partially because I can’t physically leave until you're satisfied and because I want to.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at Armin, “You can’t leave until I’m satisfied? Are you being serious right now?”

“Yes,” Armin said with a light shrug, “That’s part of the contract, it was written in the ritual words - you know, the Latin you butchered?”

You laughed and pushed Armin’s shoulder playfully, “Shut up!” Your smile quickly faded away as your mistake of what you’ve just done became apparent in your mind. You just pushed a Prince of Hell and told him to shut up, what is wrong with you? Are you stupid or the bravest person in this universe? “I’m so sorry, Armin, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine.” Armin smiled at you as his eyes glanced over your lips. “I enjoy being perceived as another human to you, it’s refreshing.”

It was a blatant lie, but you didn’t need to know that. The last thing he wanted was to destroy the progress he had made with you by getting angry over something so stupid. He had done so much to make you feel comfortable; showing up in his Earth form, letting you call him by some random boy’s name, and touching you gently as you struggled to think of the intentions you wrote down on the paper folded closed at the end of the star’s point. The last thing Armin needed was you to freak out and trap him on Earth because he scared you away before you could be satisfied.

You took a deep breath, “I’m still sorry, My Lord. And, the reason I brought you here is because- well, because I need you to- I need you to do something for me.”

“Well.” Armin failed to hide the annoyance in his voice. “That’s already apparent, but what is this thing you need for me to do?”

You really don’t need to be shy, he was used to this. You could be as clear to him as possible, make it known what you need from him. It didn’t matter what way you decided to say it, he knew exactly what you needed. You needed him to fuck you, there was no reason to be ashamed of that - mortals just couldn’t fuck the way demons could, especially Princes of Hell.

You took a deep breath, “I don’t know how to say it.”

“Just say it.” Armin smiled cockily as he placed his hand gently on your cheek. “I can read your mind, you know?”

“No!” Your eyes widened to the size of a deer’s eyes as they stare into a car’s headlights. It seemed your life was flashing before your eyes as you realized just how many times you had thought about losing yourself in his body ever since he had gotten here. “You’re lying, right?”

Armin couldn’t hide his smile, “Yes, I am lying - but, I can read body language. So, if you find the courage to say what I’m reading, then I can do it for you.” Armin moved his hand past your ear, and to the back of your neck as he leaned in closer to you. “Because I already know what you want from me.”

You nodded slowly, “I want you- I just want you.”

“Alright,” Armin said with a grin, “That’s good enough for me.”

You didn’t take a greater demon, like one of the Princes of Hell himself, to even take the time to romance you beforehand, but maybe this was just the demon kicking into his new Armin persona. First, he grazed his soft lips against your own, lightly and passionately kissing you. It was like a younger version of yourself was finally being awakened as you realized how many times you had imagined this exact moment with Armin - the real and human Armin, but this still counted you were sure of it.

And secondly, Armin had lifted his hand from your neck up to the back of your head, trying to give himself more leeway inside of your mouth. Now that his tongue had successfully entered past your lips, he now used it to lick the roof of your mouth. He let the tip of his tongue flick against the back of your front teeth, feeling the way you melted from the small touch.

Your body shuttered from just the small flick of his tongue and you felt yourself melting into him. You wanted more of him, you wanted everything he could give you - either because you knew he could give you the world and then some, or maybe because he looked like the one boy you could, for whatever reason, never get over, no matter how much time went by.

“Armin,” The words fell lightly from your mouth before you could muster up enough composure to stop them, “Please, just touch me.”

You could feel Armin’s smile against your lips, “Touch you where exactly?” Armin’s fingertips still ran across your scalp, gently tangling your hair around his fingers. “I’m too stupid to know what you mean.”

“You know where I mean,” You said passive aggressively which caused Armin to become a bit rougher with his grip on your hair, “So, just touch me.”

“No.” Armin pulled his mouth away from your mouth, his eyes staring into your eyes with a great presence of anger behind their seemingly sweet blueness. “I don’t know where you mean. Where?”

You couldn’t hold back your anger as your eyebrows furrowed deeply at Armin, “Do you want me to spell it out for you or can you-”

Armin’s grip on your hair tightened, forcing you to stop talking mid sentence, “Don’t get moody with me, alright?” You nodded your head obediently despite the awkward angle he had your neck at you for you to peer up at him. “Now, answer the question, darling - where do you want me to touch you?”

Your face heated up from embarrassment as your eyes avoided his beautiful blue ones, “I- I want you to touch me, everywhere- touch me everywhere, please, Armin- My Lord.”

“Of course, darling,” Armin scoffed, “You mortals are so quick to obey with just a little bit of force.” Armin grinned at you as his free hand felt it’s way down the side of your body, towards your hip. “And, you all want the same thing.” His hand playfully danced on the waist of your jeans, towards the button and zipper. “Somebody who seems nice and gentle, but will really handle you like the piece of meat you are.”

Armin’s fingertips played with the button of your jeans before his finger dipped into the area behind it. His pointer finger scraped against your abdomen, pointing towards the area you wanted him most. Armin watched the way your body leaned towards him before he looked up at you with a grin, and a simple request of his lips.

“Lay down,” Armin said softly, “And, don’t make a scene - I don’t really feel like taming you all night long, I prefer people being sufficient with my demands, I admire obedience - understand?”

You gave Armin a curt nod, “Okay, My Lord.” You laid on your back, pressing your shoulder blades into the hardwood underneath you.

Armin pulled your jeans down your legs, tossing them to the side with one flick of his wrist. It seemed like this was the first time he ever really broke character. Armin no longer looked entirely like himself as he stared at you from above; his eyes were no longer a beautiful and comforting blue, but rather a deep, dark red that reminded you of the stories of Hell when you were younger. In his eyes were eons of torture and pain, and a slight hint of enjoyment from hearing the screams of terror and pain.

You were suddenly reminded just who you were giving your body to, this wasn’t the sweet boy next door, Armin. No, this was someone - or rather, something - much more wicked than that sweet boy Armin, no matter how uncanny the physical similarities seemed to be.

Armin situated himself in between your now bare legs, and pressed his hips against the crotch of your panties. The foreign touch was enough to make yourself jump back slightly, Armin took the new room as an invitation, so he settled himself further between your legs.

Armin leaned close to your face, ghosting his lips over your own, “You didn’t say anything about it being romantic, so I assume you’re not really into that whole thing?”

“I am,” You whispered breathlessly as he kissed down your neck, “But, not really right now - I just, I don’t really care right now. Take me however you want me.”

Armin looked up at you, “Hm, what beautiful words - alright, I accept.”

Armin wasn’t soft or comfortable or gentle, he was the complete opposite of how you imagined him all these years. Where his hands touched weren’t tender, but rather rough and needy - his hands moved around your body like he already knew it so well, like he had formed it himself. He knew every touch you liked, he even knew every place you wanted to be touched more than once. He’d give extra time to those specific places, touching you there twice, three times, four times, as many times as he had to touch you to get you calling out his name in a whiny and desperate tone.

His lips were rushed as they kissed against your neck and jaw. You felt yourself arching your back in a desperate attempt to get closer to him. His one hand moved from your side, down your body, and towards your panties. You thought for sure he was going to touch you - the anticipation even caused you to jolt into Armin’s body, but instead he grabbed at himself. His fingers expertly grabbed at his own crotch, loosening the waist of his trousers.

You couldn’t see anything, but rather felt it as he moved the crotch of your panties to the side and slid himself inside. The pleasure that came with his thrusts caused you to see stars as you threw your head back, your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head.

“Look at me,” Armin grunted out as he continuously thrusted into you, “I want you to look at me.”

Immediately after your eyes took sight of the thing in front of you, you wanted to look away. Armin could see the fear in your face as you took in the sight of the real demon you had summoned. He had long, curling ebony horns coming from his temple, dark scarlet eyes that were fixated on you, but he still had Armin’s milky white skin and freckles across his button nose - it was as if the demon had been fighting between being himself and being who he truly was, as if he were fighting back the imagery of Armin himself.

Even as this distorted version of the boy you loved for all of these years, you still felt safe underneath him. You gently reached up to his cheek, fighting every fearful nerve in your body. You moved your fingers against his soft cheek, running your fingertips under his eyes and over his cheekbone.

Armin was smiling when he first saw your widened and scared eyes. He found enjoyment in the way you had squirmed underneath him, trying to run away from the monster you had mistakenly summoned into your own apartment. But, your gentle touch reminded the demon just how kind humanity could be when they weren’t being stupid.

Your eyes were no longer hard and full of worry, but rather loving and soft, and it reminded the demon that maybe humans weren’t little play things, maybe some humans were deserving of kindness. The thought itself sent him over the end, and with one final thrust into you, he let go of his side of the bargain, the side that these dumb little girls never realize is a mistake until it’s too late.

“Armin,” You breathlessly called out his name as your body released all over his cock.

“Sure, darling,” Armin whispered sarcastically into your ear, “Whatever helps you sleep better at night.”

Maybe some humans out there were deserving of kindness and peace, but he didn’t think you were one of them. You only cared for him because he looked enough like Armin to confuse your delusional mind into thinking he actually was the boy. It was cold hearted manipulation, and the demon had to applaud you for it, he would’ve done the same thing in your position. And, he even hoped that in nine months when your belly was fully formed and his offspring was desperately clawing its way into the world, that you’d keep that same delusion - it’s easier to believe the little blonde baby was the child of a human boy rather than a Prince of Hell you had summoned to come fuck you.

Original artist, give them the love they deserve

Ruin the Friendship - S.O.S.

(Chapter 1 / 3)

Armin x Reader x Eren

Word Count: 4.0k

Warnings: mutual masturbation, phone sex

Summary: Reader is horny and desperate and her normal sneaky link is not picking up his phone. She almost gave up, but right when she decided to go to bed unsatisfied - a beautiful call came through from her personal superhero. Armin was not her first choice and she had never seen him in such a sexual light, but damn, how quickly that would all change. Maybe Eren finally has a worthy opponent in the competition of Reader's heart - or rather the competition of what's between her legs.

Notes: I posted this on my Ao3 first, but I thought I’d post it here too. So, please enjoy!

The ringing seemed to be echoing throughout the entire room. With each second of the unanswered call, you felt your heart rate accelerate in your chest. Your confidence was slowly dissipating from your body as you waited for the boy on the other end of the phone to finally answer the waiting call.

But, nothing.

At least the ringing stopped, but now the echoes of Eren’s voicemail message was vibrating throughout the entire room. You’re sure he’s not sorry he missed the call, and you were even more sure he wouldn’t give you a call back later. Now, he asked you to leave a voicemail for him.

What would you say in the voicemail if you had the confidence to leave one? Would you tell him the truth of why you were calling him at 11 PM on a Saturday night? How would that even sound?

Hey, Eren. Uh, it’s me again. Just ignore the other missed calls, I’m just super lonely. And, I tried texting you, but I’m assuming you’re with another girl or you’re at another frat party tonight. Anyways, I just thought I should let you know that my vibrator broke and now I’m horny and too drunk to go buy a new one. Honestly, if you have the time, please just come by my apartment and blow my back out. Thanks. Call me back later. ‘Cya.

He would get that damn message printed out and framed if you ever left that voicemail for him. He would never let you forget the desperation and neediness in your voice with each word you left for him. He would play it on repeat every night when he was by himself and just as horny, thinking to himself about how good he makes you feel.

If you left that voicemail for him, you would definitely lose the game. The game of sleeping with each other until the other confesses that they have real feelings for the other. He would take your words as your secret love confession for him, and he would win. You couldn’t let that happen, even if it killed you.

You ended the call before the beep, denying yourself the embarrassment of leaving a needy voicemail. You looked at your phone, scrolling through your endless contacts of other people who would drop everything to come over and fuck you. But, no matter what name your mind decided on, they all couldn’t compare to Eren. That was the only downside of having the best sex of your life with one person, because then you’ve peaked and there’s no longer the option of going back to anyone else.

You slammed your phone into the couch cushion beside you and grabbed the remote from the coffee table. You skipped through movies in one hand and brought the entire wine bottle to your mouth with the other. Getting wine drunk was fine on a Saturday night, as long as it wasn’t getting in the way of your education. Because, honestly, you could be way worse.

Your phone vibrated beside you, and you nearly dropped the glass bottle in excitement. You grabbed your phone and took in the sight of the caller on your lockscreen.

Armin.

He wasn’t exactly who you were hoping for, but he wasn’t the worst choice.

“Hey,” You sang the word out, trying to hide the obvious slur to your words.

“Hi,” Armin said shortly, “Are you drunk?”

Of course, Armin couldn’t be fooled, no matter how smart you thought the plan was.

“No,” You lied.

“Are you lying?” You could hear Armin’s smirk with his words.

“No,” You lied again.

“You’re so drunk.” Armin laughed, and you were glad he found amusement and not annoyance in your state.

“Sorry,” You said slowly, “I’m just bored and lonely and the wine bottle was calling my name.”

Armin smiled, “I think it was saying, please don’t drink me. Your friend is going to call you later about the group assignment and it would suck if you were drunk.”

Your head hurt from realization, and you furrowed your eyebrows in pain. You forgot about Armin scheduling tonight for time to work on the group assignment for Psych 101. In your defense, he had told you about it on Monday, and never reminded you throughout the week.

“Oh my god,” You said, disappointment obvious in your voice, “I’m so sorry, I forgot about that. I would have ignored the luring song of the wine if I remembered.”

“It’s fine,” Armin said, “Are you sober enough that we can still work on it?”

You shrugged, “Yeah, I’m good.”

Armin began to tangent, and you couldn’t help but drift off mentally. He went on and on about Piaget and Freud and whoever else came to his mind in his rant. You were hardly paying attention, it was like purely listening to a psychology lecture - the one thing more boring than being in psychology class.

“So,” Armin finally ended his rant, “You agree?”

“Uh,” You said as you looked into the wine bottle, assessing how much was left, “Sure.”

Armin perched his eyebrows, “I also think we should smother all children with pillows, do you agree with that as well?”

You took a quick swig and said, “Uh-huh.”

“Pay attention to me,” Armin whined from the other end of the phone, “This is important. It’s 15% of our final grade.”

You rolled your eyes and threw your body back on the couch in annoyance. You didn’t answer Armin’s call because you wanted to talk about boring old men. Instead, you answered his call in the small hope of possibly solving your main problem at the time.

You turned on your side and sat in a fetus position, “Can we just talk about this tomorrow?”

Armin sighed, “You said you weren’t too drunk to work on this assignment right now.”

“Let’s just work on this tomorrow,” You bargained, “You can come over to my apartment and we can stay up until 2 AM working on it.”

“Just don’t be drunk tomorrow, okay?”

You rolled your eyes, “The problem is hardly that I’m drunk.”

Armin was now intrigued, “What do you mean?”

You didn’t want to get into it with him, even though that was the main reason you answered the phone. You didn’t want to ruin the innocence that hung around this boy by being too blunt. Whether or not he was all that innocent, you were unsure. But, he just reminded you of a small Catholic boy who didn’t know women had different genitals than himself for all twenty years of his life.

The more you talked with the boy, the more you hated that initial desire in you. The desire that convinced you to answer the phone and hope for a satisfying conversation. The same desire that almost hoped he would come over tomorrow so you could teach him about a woman’s genitals. It was the same desire that kept you on the phone with him right now.

“Well,” You said, “I tried calling Eren, but he wouldn’t answer.”

He knew the implication of your words, the entire group knew the implication of those words. You and Eren weren’t sly, and you especially weren’t shy around the topic. Eren had talked to all of his friends about you, and you talked to all of your friends about him. So, Armin heard both sides of the story of you and Eren.

“Oh,” Armin said shortly, “I think he went back home this weekend, so that makes sense why he didn’t answer. I wouldn’t take it personally if I were you.”

“He never told me that.” You brought the wine bottle back to your lips and took another swig. “He left yesterday?”

“Yeah, right after his last class of the day.”

You nodded and took longer gulps of the wine out of a sudden new wave of sadness. You didn’t mind Eren leaving, that’s not why you were upset. You hated that he didn’t tell you, that he felt like he couldn’t trust you. You just hated the idea of ruining your friendship with the boy because he’d seen you naked frequently. And, you supposed that that was the only downside to sleeping with your best friend.

“Well,” You said, putting the wine bottom on the table and out of reach, “Now, I’m really screwed.” You smiled to yourself. “Or, I guess I’m not screwed and that’s the problem.”

Armin giggled awkwardly on the other end of the phone, “Why don’t you just - you know?”

“I don’t think I do know.” You smiled mischievously at the coffee table. “Why don’t I just what?”

Armin sighed, “Masturbate.”

“Is that a demand?” You couldn’t hide the seduction in your voice.

“No, no, no,” Armin said quickly and you could nearly hear how his cheeks flushed, “I was just asking, genuinely, why don’t you masturbate?”

“My vibrator broke.” You glanced angrily at the bright pink bullet on the coffee table. “And, every time I watch porn and only use my fingers, I can’t orgasm. It’s like I need to feel something real, and porn just seems too fake.”

Armin nodded silently as your words flooded over him. He couldn’t help the uncomfortability he felt in his pants to your blunt explanation. You normally told him about your sexual adventures that already happened, not sexual problems that he could easily solve. He’s always been a people-pleaser, so of course he’s going to want to help you in your time of need.

“Mhm,” He said quietly, thinking of ways to help you without being blunt himself.

“Sorry,” You said, “I shouldn’t have told you all of that. I know how weird you get when people talk about sex.”

“I don’t get weird!” His voice is quickly defensive, it’s adorable.

You grinned, “You’re doing it right now.”

“No, I’m not.” Armin shifts uncomfortably on his bed.

“Are you a virgin?” The question came out before you could stop it. It was something you had always wondered about him, and the wine in your bloodstream was acting as your liquid courage.

“I don’t wanna talk about this,” Armin said timidly.

“So, you are-”

“I’m not!”

“You’re not?” You knew the answer to the question was either yes or no, but for some reason, you weren’t expecting no.

Armin sighed, “I’ve had sex before.”

You grinned evilly, “Your hand doesn’t count.”

“I’ve had sex with more than just my hand.” The hints of emotions in his voice was complex, it was the perfect mix of annoyance yet arousal.

You moved back up on the couch, sitting on your knees and pushing your legs together. You had had plenty of cat-and-mouse games with Eren, but this was the first time you were the cat. You liked teasing Armin and feeling a certain power in the situation.

“Do you watch porn?” You asked, your voice attempting uninterest.

“Sometimes,” Armin answers slowly.

“What do you mean by sometimes?” You pushed your thighs even closer together.

Armin shifted some more on his bed, “Sometimes, I just use my imagination.”

You smirked into the phone, your heart racing, “What do you like to imagine?”

“Just, stuff.” His voice may have sounded closed off, but you could hear the tint of teasing in his words. Like he was a siren luring you forward with his song.

And, you couldn’t help but take the bait.

“What kind of stuff?”

“People,” Armin said after a moment of contemplation, “Doing things.”

“Well,” You said with a grin, “Aren’t you the King of Discretion?”

Armin breathed a chuckle through the phone, “I’m not trying to be. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, you won’t.” You traced your fingers back and forth against your bare thigh. “Do you ever think of me?”

You could almost hear the shattering of Armin’s composure. For every moment he was silent, you felt a mix of regret and curiosity. You regretted asking the question so quickly, but you felt curious about his answer nonetheless. So, you stayed on the phone instead of running from your mistakes.

Armin closed his eyes, “Sometimes.”

Your regret dissipated with that one word, “What do I do in your fantasies?”

“Things,” He started but after you stayed quiet, he continued, “Do you really want me to answer that question?”

You smiled, “Yes, and don’t be discreet.”

Silence settled between you and Armin on the phone. You knew this was a rather large step to take in your friendship, and after tonight, it could be ruined forever. But, you didn’t mind ruining this friendship if he didn’t mind as well.

Armin closed his eyes in order to properly see the memories of his fantasies. He imagined a lot of different things, specifically with you. You’d always been so open with him about your sexuality and sex in general. That’s something he’s always noticed and he’s always been comfortable with you because of it.

“Well,” Armin said, relaying the information of his fantasies, “I imagine sitting with you on your bed. We’re usually working on homework of some kind, but the homework gets boring. You put your hand on my thigh and when I look up at you, you’re grinning at me.”

“Mhm,” You said as your fingers slipped under your sleep shorts. Your fingertips brushed delicately over your heartbeat from in between your legs. You tried to get more information from the boy, “Are these fantasies always so innocent?”

Armin’s cheeks flushed as his hand came up to his growing erection. He couldn’t help his physical interest in the conversation considering the seduction in your voice. He wondered if you always sounded like this towards him, or the hints of seduction he was picking up on was new.

“No,” Armin says shortly, “They usually start innocently, though.”

“Well.” You grinned to yourself. “Aren’t you a romantic?”

Armin breathed out a laugh, “Do you want me to continue?”

You nodded your head, “Definitely.”

Armin took a deep breath before continuing, “After you grin at me, we start kissing. Our kissing only progresses until you’re sitting on top of me on the bed and I’m looking up at you. And, you lean down and whisper in my ear some sweet nothings-”

“Like what?” You asked quickly, “What do I say?”

“Just, things.”

You traced your fingers across the slick that had soaked through the fabric of your panties, “What kind of sick things do I call you in your head? Do I call you daddy?”

Armin’s thigh twitched at the sound of that nickname. You had never called him that before in his head, but he made sure to keep it in mind for next time. He made sure to remember the exact way you said the word, like it rolled itself up from where it was hiding down your throat.

“Well, no.” Armin shifted his hips into the sad empty air. “You normally call me sir.”

Your eyebrows rose at that, “Oh, really? You like being in control?”

“I like being wanted.” There’s a moment of silence. “And, being in control makes me feel wanted.”

“Do I make you feel wanted?” Armin didn’t answer, he instead shifted again on his bed. “Do you want me to make you feel wanted?”

His voice came out as a weak whisper, “You can.”

Hearing his desperation for something as mundane as your voice was arousing. It was something he heard on a day-to-day basis, something others couldn’t recognize in a dark room. But, it was all Armin needed to be turned on. You wondered inwardly how many times your voice itself had turned him on before.

You wondered how many times you had been with Armin, whether with others or not, and he found himself getting aroused by your voice. You wondered how many times you had asked him how his day was, or even called him by an endearing nickname and he found himself getting uncomfortably hard in his pants.

“‘Can do what, sir?” Your seductive voice echoed through the phone and Armin groaned deep in his throat from the nickname. He had imagined the sexual scenario loads of times, he had imagined you whispering that one word sensually in his ear loads of times. But, nothing prepared him for the sound of it being real.

“Make me feel wanted.” Armin palmed himself through his sweats.

You were unsure why you were keeping up with this teasing game, but you knew you were going to end it quite soon. It wasn’t your fault you just couldn’t hold out much longer.

“And, why should I?” You whispered the question through the phone, needing his desperation.

“Because I want you,” Armin’s voice cracked with the words, “I want you so bad, it hurts.”

It was all you needed to hear. You pushed your fingers into your opened entrance, moaning loud enough for Armin to hear through the phone. He knew what you were doing, what you were leading him towards, and he couldn’t hold back much longer.

You heard his whiny moans in your ear as he touched himself now under the fabric of his sweats. He pumped his cock at the same rate that you pushed your fingers in and out of your entrance, using the collected slick from the conversation. To feed even farther into this fantasy of his, in order to show Armin how badly you needed him, you knew you had to become submissive.

“Armin,” You moaned, “I wish you were here.”

“Why?” His voice came out sterner than you were expecting, the switch of power dynamics causing a surge of confidence within him.

“I want you in me. I want your big cock to fill me up.”

Armin groaned as he stroked his cock, imagining his hand were yours instead. He could hear every moan you let escape your mouth, and he could hear the lewd noises from the squelching of your pussy. He imagined how your fingers stroked in and out of yourself, thinking of him as he was thinking of you. He had imagined you loads of times, but never have you imagined him back.

You let your head fall back onto the back of the couch, the phone pressed so close to your ear that it dully hurt. You didn’t want to miss a single moan, a single body shift, and a single hitch in the breaths that Armin took into the phone. Every single sound through the phone opened up your mind’s eye for what Armin looked like on the other side.

Your phone vibrated against your cheek, but you barely felt it being so deep in the moment. You could hear little whines from Armin’s side of the call, each of his breaths being a desperate moan of you feel so good and oh my god. You felt your stomach growing tight from the pressure of your climax and his whines only made the pressure grow tighter.

“Armin,” You breathed through the phone, “Are you close?”

He nodded, “Yes, yes-” He groaned- “I’m gonna-”

“Do it,” You said sternly, “And say my name while you do.”

Armin nodded some more, quickly stroking himself to climax. He liked being in control in his fantasies, but in reality, he liked the blatant control you took over him. It was against everything he thought he knew about himself, but he couldn’t think of anything sexier.

Armin came in one long groan of your name, ejaculating on the inside fabric of his boxers and sweats. The sound was sweet and drawn out, dripping with satisfaction. It sounded genuine and real, exactly what you needed.

You felt yourself clench around your fingers before releasing on your hand as you called out for Armin one last time. The slick ran down your hand, on your fingers, palm, and down your wrist. You brought your hand from your sleep shorts, quickly wiping the wetness on your t-shirt. It was gross, sure, but it was your shirt and you were home alone and damn it, you could just take the shirt off and wash it in a few minutes.

There was a new silence settling between you and Armin on the call. You could hear him still breathing heavily, and you sounded the exact same. You just looked around your living room, wanting to say something, but not wanting it to be awkward.

“So,” You said after a long moment of heavy breathing, “Thank you.”

“Yeah.” Armin closed his eyes from embarrassment. “You’re welcome and uh- thank you too. And-and, I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

You grinned, “Yeah, you can come to my apartment and we’ll work on our project.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah.”

Armin took a quick breath, “Goodbye?”

“Bye.”

“Oh, and-” Armin started, but was quickly cut off by the sound of the call ending. He had ended the whole experience so well, you didn’t want to give him the chance to ruin that. You didn’t want to give him the time to be stupid and vulnerable and emotionally needy.

You weren’t doing this for a boyfriend, you were doing this for an orgasm.

You locked your phone and left it on the couch as you walked back to your room. Your fingers had fucked the sobriety back into you, and your head now pounded from dehydration. You walked around your bedroom, grabbing a towel, new shirt, new shorts, and a new pair of panties and then headed off towards the shower.

You showered, washing yourself of the wetness between your thighs and the memories of Armin’s moans from your mind. They repeated themselves in your head, each whine more desperate than the last. Just the memories of his whiny voice calling out for you made your core throb between your legs until you forced the memories deep, deep down.

After the shower, you changed into your clean clothes and headed back to the living room. You sat down in the same spot you had orgasmed only half an hour ago. You grabbed your phone, thinking of the slight vibration against your cheek in the peak of the call with Armin.

You checked your unread notifications. You saw a waiting text message from Eren and you felt your stomach tense with nerves. It wasn’t cheating - you weren’t dating Eren - but it did make you feel weird having phone sex with his best friend. You had wanted Eren, thinking nothing was better than him, but you found his desperate best friend and went with that route instead.

Eren’s text message read, You called?

You texted back, I don’t need you anymore.

Your message came off as passive aggressive. It was a certain dominance you never had with Eren, but the same dominance that came out in your conversation with Armin. It was strange how quickly you could mold yourself to become what your partner wanted or was used to.

Eren answered a minute later, Oh, really?

You smiled at your screen as you responded, You’ve been replaced, sorry.

The message was read immediately, but a response never came through. Eren left your conversation, ignoring you had said anything at all. It wasn’t like Eren to be easily upset or jealous, so you were sure he only got busy and couldn’t respond at the moment.

You turned away from your phone, looking around the small living room. Armin was coming over here tomorrow, for sure - unless he bailed at the last minute which wasn’t like him. You wondered if you should clean the apartment for him.

What were you thinking? Armin was desperate for you, he’d take you on the floor of a never-before discovered cave from Egyptian times. He would take you in the middle of a sand storm or while you were both drowning in the middle of the ocean. Armin couldn’t care less about what your apartment looked like when you were there - especially if you were there naked.

Not only was he inhumanly horny, but he could bring you to climax only by the sound of his panty breaths and moans of your name. Truly, your friendship with Armin was a huge win-win situation.

Your eyes suddenly moved to the bright pink bullet still sitting prettily on your coffee table. Two hours ago, you were sure you were going to go to bed unsatisfied and horny, but Armin came through as your personal superhero. You may have ruined a friendship, but at least you were going to bed satisfied. You’d ruin anything for a good orgasm.

Next Chapter

The Worst Wingman - Dust and a Goddess

(Chapter 1 / 3)

Jean x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: mentions of homophobia

Summary:  Jean knew you better than anybody else, so why was he so good at picking the worst people on the planet for you to go on dates with. You were persistent to find a boyfriend this year and you thought Jean could help you find the perfect man, but apparently he loves to watch you suffer. If only you knew the perfect man for you was the one setting you up on all of these dates.

Notes: I posted this on my Ao3 first, but I thought I’d post it here too. So, please enjoy!

First Saturday

Another Saturday night meant another shitty date with another uninteresting and weird guy. You knew Jean hand-picked these dates that he sent you off with, but it seemed he didn’t know you or them at all. Every single date was just another bust, undeniably and irrefutably.

And, this date was just another on the already long list of bad dates.

“So,” Your date said with a smile, “You’re good friends with him, aren’t you?”

You nodded with the wine glass close to your lips. He had asked you the same question nearly fifteen times in the last fifteen minutes. It was as if he couldn’t believe it himself. As if he were surprised, or maybe even a little bit jealous.

“Yeah,” You said with a fake smile, “We’re in the same friend group. I met him freshman year, when I became close friends with Mikasa and she introduced us-”

“How is he?”

“Huh?”

The redhead smiled wide, “How is Eren? What’s he like as a friend?”

You raised your eyebrows and placed your glass back on the table, “Eren?”

The redhead nodded excitedly. He was nearly on the edge of his seat, leaning towards you like a child about to hear a war story from his grandfather. It was odd that the boy had gotten caught on the idea of Eren being friends with you when you had just explained how Jean was the one who set you up on the date.

“Eren is- um,” You looked around the small restaurant, trying to find inspiration for a way out of this conversation from the other diners, “He’s cool.”

The boy is physically upset about your discretion, “And?”

“And,” You involuntarily continued, “He’s- uh, he’s very nice. He-uh he helps me with my homework, and helps me study quite a bit.”

It was all a lie, but only partially. Sure, somebody in the friend group was really nice and helped you with homework and helped you study, but it wasn’t Eren. It was Armin who was the nice one, but you didn’t know Eren well enough not to switch the two names when talking with the boy in front of you.

“That’s awesome,” The redhead said with an admirational sigh, “I bet he’s super helpful. He’s definitely the type to not give up until you know everything, for sure.”

“Oh.” You grinned at your empty dinner plate. “For sure. He’s the best. He’s super dedicated, and he always makes the harder information easier for me to understand. He’ll word it in ways that he knows I’m more comfortable with.”

“I’ll have to join you two, sometime.”

You looked at the boy with furrowed eyebrows, “You want to join me and Eren while we study?”

Boy, is he going to be upset when he finds out Eren is actually an adorable blonde boy with big ocean eyes who’s not nearly as blatantly mean. Also, it’s a bit strange the redhead wants to go on a study date with you and somebody else. Isn’t he at this date for you? But, all he’s asked you about all night is Eren.

“Of course,” The boy said with a smile, “I would just love to see him again.”

You giggled lightly to yourself, “Do you want me to get his number for you?”

Though the comment was purely a joke, the boy didn’t flinch nor smile. He just stared at you with a look of defeat in his eyes and he almost looked angry. His eyes never left your face, his mind not finding an ounce of humor in your question.

His reaction caused your smile to quickly falter, “Do you actually have a crush on him?”

The redhead rose from his seat, “I have to use the bathroom.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Right now?”

“Yes,” The boy’s voice came out harsh, “Right now.”

“Oh, okay.” You watched as the boy walked off towards the bathroom. And, once he was out of earshot, you pulled your phone from your purse sitting on the back of the chair and phoned Jean.

The phone only rang once before the call was picked up. He spoke a half-assed greeting above the sound of yelling in the background. You knew he was with Connie and Sasha tonight and you knew they were playing video games from the noise coming from behind his voice.

“Don’t hey me,” You spat angrily through the phone, “This guy is insane, Jean, he’s fucking weird.”

Jean was now laughing, “How is he weird?”

“He keeps asking about Eren.” You took a quick peek at the male’s bathroom door. “He offered to go on a study date with me-”

“That’s nice of him.”

“-And Eren.”

“Oh,” Jean said, “That’s weird. Eren doesn’t even study with you, he’d have to be smarter than you to be of any help.”

“I may have lied to him.” You took a quick swig of wine from the glass and then turned back to the bathroom doors.

“Aw,” Jean said with a smirk, “Poor Floch.”

“Floch,” You said excitedly, nearly knocking the discarded fork from your plate, “That’s his name! I forgot it about two hours ago, but didn’t have the heart to ask him.”

Jean was uncontrollably laughing on the other side of the phone. It wasn’t like these types of calls were foriegn to him. You normally called Jean in the middle of a crisis, and most of your crises these days happened mid-date when the boy did something weird and left to go to the bathroom.

“You’re a horrible date,” Jean said between his giggles.

“It’s not a normal name.” You held the wine glass to your lips. “I wouldn’t have forgotten his name if it were Brian or Nick. It’s his mom’s fault I forgot his name.”

Jean smiled into the phone, “Now, you’re blaming his mom for your ignorance, how cruel.”

You couldn’t help but grin as well, “Also, I think he has a thing for Eren.”

“Really?” Jean takes a moment to remember something. “That actually makes a lot of sense. I met him through Eren because they were in the same chemistry class last semester. He seemed reluctant to go on the date with you until Eren told him he should, then he was all for it. I thought it was weird, but not weird enough to be concerning.”

“It’s not weird nor concerning,” You said sweetly, “He just has a crush and he doesn’t know how to deal with it, it’s endearing.”

“He’s actively homophobic.”

“What?” You peek at the bathrooms and notice nothing has changed. “You set me on a date with an active homophobe?”

Jean shrugged, “I didn’t think about it.”

You shook your head angrily, “After this date, I am coming straight to your apartment and I am giving you a piece of my mind, Jean Kirstein.”

“Oh no,” Jean said with a smile, “I’m really scared, she used my last name.”

“You should be really scared. I’m bringing my baseball bat and everything.”

You took another peek at the bathroom and then checked the timer on the call. Seven minutes and fourteen seconds was how long you had been on the phone with Jean and how long Floch had been in the bathroom. Sure, it could be reasonable, but you still got a weird feeling from the whole thing.

“‘You okay?” Jean asked endearingly once the silence between you two had settled.

“He’s coming back,” You lied, “I gotta’ go.”

“Okay, just-”

The call ended quickly with one press of your finger. You put your phone back in your purse and let the bag fall to the side of the chair. You looked around the beautiful restaurant and tapped your fingers impatiently against the clothed table.

You leaned to your side in order to get closer to the couple beside you. At the table sat two people: one with long brown hair and wide glasses dressed in a tux and the other with short dirty blonde hair also dressed in a tux.

“Hi,” You said to the brown haired person to your immediate right, “Could I ask a favor of either of you? It’ll only take a minute, I swear.”

The brown haired person smiled widely, “Of course!”

“My date, a redhead, went to the bathroom nearly twenty minutes ago, and I can’t go into the boy’s bathroom-”

“You want me to go?” The brown haired person’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I can go see if he’s still in there, or if he’s sick, or if he’s dead - God forbid, but how interesting, right?”

You nodded with a smile, “Yes, thank you, please. I’m sure he’s not dead, but I’m just worried.”

“Don’t worry until I come back with news.” The brown haired person stood up and left, heading towards the bathroom.

You watched the nice brown haired person go off towards the restrooms. You watched them weave around tables, even stopping now and then to peek over diners’ shoulders, looking at what they had decided to eat for the night. They were strange, but in an endearing way - something you weren’t entirely used to seeing on these dates.

“You know,” The blonde guy spoke up suddenly, snapping you back to reality, “They’ve done that a few times on our dates before, as well.”

“Hm?” You turned to the brown haired person’s date.

The blonde guy smiled, “My date, they get interested in something in the bathroom and don’t bother coming back out for half an hour. The first time is scary, but you’ll get used to their curious mind.”

You grinned weakly at the nice man, “Yeah, I have a feeling there won’t be anything to get used to because there won’t be another date.”

The blonde boy furrowed his eyebrows, “Oh?”

“He wasn’t the best date I’ve been on, nor the best person I’ve been on a date with.” You turned towards the bathroom in time to catch the blonde man’s date making their way back across the restaurant with a frown. “In fact, he’s the first date to ever crawl out of a bathroom window to get away from me.”

“I’m sure that’s not what happened,” The blonde man said with a worried glance at his date. You weren’t sure how you knew it, but you were entirely sure of the redhead’s escape.

“He’s gone, dear.” The brown haired person placed a gentle hand on your shoulder as they sat back in their seat. “The window was pried open, I assume he crawled out of it.”

You nodded with a fake smile, “Thank you, for checking. I can pay-”

You reached for your purse, but the brown haired person shook their head, “No, no. Don’t even try to pay me. In fact, let us pay for your meals, it’s the least we can do.”

You shook your head quickly, “No, I can pay for them, but thank you.”

“No, he left you high and dry and-”

“You’ve already done enough for me tonight.”

“-You don’t deserve to pay for a meal you didn’t even enjoy.”

While the brown haired person was distracting you with a back and forth battle of who would pay for what, the blonde man waved down a passing waiter. He mumbled something to the waiter, pointing at your table over his shoulder. The blonde man pushed a small plastic card into the waiter’s hand. The waiter nodded pityingly, running off quickly towards the hostess’s table at the entrance.

“No,” You said with another shake of your head, “You don’t have to pay for a taxi, I don’t need one-”

But, you did need one considering Floch was your ride here.

“No,” The brown haired person continued, “Let me pay for your wine. In fact, have our wine. It’s the least we can do.”

“No, I don’t need more wine-”

The waiter was back and the blonde man finally spoke up over the argument between you and his date. He held two slips of paper in his hand and looked at you both with a small smile.

“Hange,” He said to make his date stop debating with you, “It’s okay, she doesn’t need your insurance card. And, ma’am, don’t worry about the bill, it’s already been paid for, and you don’t owe me anything in return. I’ve been in your shoes before, and I wish somebody would have done this for me.”

“Sir,” You said quickly, “It’s really not that big of a deal-”

“Not anymore,” The blonde man said with a smile, “Next time you come to this restaurant, just bring somebody you trust. I promise, not everybody is as awful as that boy.”

You bit your lip to keep the newly created tears from falling. You couldn’t help the overload of emotions happening in your throat and eyes. You didn’t normally cry so easily in front of strangers, but these strangers were overly generous. And suddenly, you were remembering the last ten dates that all ended just as horribly. It seemed like nothing was working out in your favor anymore.

“Thank you,” You said with a large smile contradictory to the tears that now fell down your cheeks, “I-I don’t know where to find those not awful people, but I really hope I will someday.”

“Oh no!” Hange said as they quickly wrapped you in a tight hug. “Moblit, look, you broke her.”

Moblit giggled with a shake of his head, “I’m sorry I broke you, dear.”

You shook your head into Hange’s shoulder, accidentally wiping the tears on the shoulder of their black tux. You couldn’t express to Moblit how badly you wanted to find not awful people, and how badly you wanted a date that didn’t end horribly. It was just more complicated than that, and it seemed awful people were the only ones Jean could offer you dates with and the only ones he thought deserved dates with you. So, what did that say about how he viewed you as a person?

You spent a few minutes crying into Hange’s shoulder, mumbling incoherently about boys and school and your pot-smoking next door neighbors who are way too loud when they have sex. They listened to your tangent intently, nodding along, as if they could understand any of your words.

Once you had wiped the tears from your face and thanked the couple profusely some more, you made your way from the restaurant. You knew you could call a taxi to Jean’s apartment, but the weather was nice and his apartment wasn’t too far away. So, walking seemed like a convenient money-saving way of getting the whole date out of your mind.

You walked down the street of town, but once you got to campus, you slid the heels from your feet and into your hands. You walked across campus with your shoes balancing on your fingers like the morning after a horrible one-night stand.

Eventually you made it to Jean’s apartment building and found your way to his front door within a few minutes. You knocked on the wood with your heel and weren’t too surprised when the door opened almost immediately. Jean stood in the doorway, still shouting at the other two over his shoulder.

“Hey,” Jean said once he finally turned his attention to you, “How was the-” You swung the heel swiftly into his stomach, earning a surprised grunt from the boy.

“Don’t mention this date ever again.” You said the threatening words with a glint of anger to your voice, but your face was pressed into a sweet smile.

Jean nodded slowly, “Will you at least tell us what happened?”

You sighed, “Later, I’ll tell you, but I know Connie will bully me for it.”

Jean nodded some more, “Later?”

“The least you can do is let me stay the night.” You raised your eyebrows at the boy. “Since you made me go on the worst date of my life with a homophobic jerk.”

“Okay,” Jean said with a grin, “But only because you’re practically begging for me.”

You swung the heel into his stomach a second time, but he grabbed it before it could give any damage. You both looked intently at each other, your eyes glaring annoyedly and his eyes admiring the sight in front of him. This was exactly what you expected from him, this is exactly how he acts after these dates. He’s always the one to pick up and put back the broken pieces once the doll breaks, even if he’s the reason the doll fell in the first place.

Once you walked into the apartment, you left your shoes and purse by the door, right beside Jean’s shoes. You waved a quick hello to Connie and Sasha - who were too distracted shooting zombies to see you - as you walked past them in the living room and found your way straight to Jean’s room. You knew the apartment like the back of your hand, you had been here a million times.

You walked across the small room to your drawer that Jean keeps all of your clothes in for when you stay. You pulled it open and picked out a pair of cheetah print pajama shorts and an old t-shirt from an now irrelevant ex boyfriend. You threw the clothes on his bed, getting ready to change just when the door suddenly opened.

You turned to the door with tired eyes and furrowed eyebrows as Jean joined you in the room. He leaned against the now closed door, physically keeping the others from joining as well. He crossed his arms against his chest, taking in the sight of him - you in your satin black dress you wore on nearly every date.

“So,” Jean said finally, “What happened?”

You sighed, “He crawled through a window.”

Jean’s eyebrows furrowed, “He crawled through a window?”

“Yes, when he went to the bathroom and I called you. He crawled through a window to get away from me.” You looked anywhere around the room but the boy. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Hey,” Jean moved from the door, coming across the room to you, “Nothing’s wrong with you. Something’s wrong with him.” Jean held you at arm’s length, his hands on your shoulders. “Not only did he leave you, but he has a crush on Eren of all people. I’ve seen birds at the park who are more attractive than he is.”

You grinned sadly, “I bet people don’t crawl through windows to get away from Eren on dates.”

Jean ran his hand down the side of your head, “Eren doesn’t give them the chance, I don’t think he’s ever been on a date.”

“But, people would go on one with him.” You finally looked up at the boy in front of you, trying to keep the tears from spilling the second time today. “He’s not undateable. I’m undateable. I’ve scared guys away every Saturday night for the last two months.”

“You’re not undateable,” Jean said sternly, “You just haven’t found the right one. And, you won’t find the right one if you don’t keep going on these dates. Every horrible date means you’re one more Saturday closer to your soulmate.”

“And, what if I don’t have a soulmate? What if I’m damned to die alone?”

“Then, I’ll die with you.” Jean brought you in for a tight hug, your face snuggling into his firm chest. Jean whispered his words, mostly to himself, “I’d give up 200 soulmates if it only meant I could die with you.”

You closed your eyes against the soft fabric of Jean’s shirt. It was hard to trust his words when there seemed to be so many contradicting factors. Maybe tonight was a total bust, but next Saturday was a new day. You could try again next Saturday, and the Saturday after that, and the Saturday after that. And, every Saturday for the rest of your life until you found your soulmate, even if that seemed like a pointless mission.

You’d do it for both you and Jean, it was the least you could do.

First Sunday

You woke up in Jean’s bed with his body close to yours. It was a standard cuddling position for your friendship: face-to-face, his arms wrapped around your side, your arms cradled against your chest, and your legs intertwined. Despite the normalcy associated with the position, you still woke up with a dorky smile and butterflies floating around your stomach when you saw him sleeping in front of you.

Today was no exception.

You grinned ear to ear as you watched the peaceful rise and fall of Jean’s tanned chest under the thin fabric of his white t-shirt. You watched as his lips parted against the pressure of the pillow under his cheek, a small stream of spit rolling from the corner of his mouth and onto the fabric of the pillowcase below. Every Saturday night ended with tears and regrets, but every Sunday morning began with sweet dreams and a special sleepy boy.

You turned away from Jean, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. The only way to successfully grab the phone was to also pull yourself from Jean’s grasp and from between his legs. It was a horrible price to be paid, but it had to be paid nonetheless.

You checked your lock screen, reading over playful messages from your roommate asking about how good Floch was in bed - assuming you had stayed at his house since you hadn’t come home. And, a few confused messages from Eren asking you who Floch was, why he was texting him, and how he was connected to you.

You locked the phone and turned back to Jean. You were expecting the boy to still be napping peacefully, but he instead stared sleepily at you. Your face had been in a grimace from the mentions of your date last night, but Jean’s honey brown eyes quickly dissipated any negative feelings.

“Good morning,” You whispered, “Did you sleep well?”

“Good morning,” Jean said as he shifted his head and wiped the spit from the corner of his mouth. He was hoping you hadn’t noticed the wetness and that you weren’t questioning the wiping motion he made at his cheek. “And I-”

You smiled, “From the drool spot on the pillowcase, I’ll have to assume you slept well.”

Jean’s cheeks turned rosy, you could see the physical embarrassment on his face. He wasn’t the type to accept humiliation so easily, he was always one to fight back. Just his humiliation isn’t enough, if he’s going down, he’s taking as many people he can take with him. So, you weren’t sure why you were surprised when he swiftly sat up, grabbed the pillow, and attempted to shove the wet spot into your face.

You yelped, rolled, and sprung from the bed only a second before the pillow could land on your cheek, right where it was heading. You were up on your feet quicker than you ever thought you could be, your body still feeling the aftereffects of sleep. You looked down at the boy in front of you, the pillow still tightly gripped in his hands and a mischievous smile smacked across his face.

“You little bastard,” You said with a shocked smile.

Jean smiled back, “I’m actually quite big.” The words were meant as a joke about his body’s size, but both of your dirty minds immediately jumped to the size of something else on his body. “In more ways than one.”

You shouted at the boy between the giggles escaping from your throat, “Jean! Seriously!”

Jean shrugged, laughing along at his own joke, “I’m sorry, I had to!”

“You didn’t have to do shit!” You made your way to the bedroom door. “I’m going home!”

“One bad joke and now you’re leaving.” Jean leaped from the bed, following you to the door. “At least let me make you breakfast first.”

You turned to him with an intrigued glint in your eyes, “Will you make me waffles?”

“Sure,” Jean said as he playfully shoved your shoulder, “I’ll make you waffles.”

“With chocolate chips?” He walked in front of you, leaving the room with you following behind him like a child.

“Yes, I can add chocolate chips.” Jean tried to hide the grin spreading across his cheeks. “Do you want bacon and sausage as well?”

“Shut up,” You said from behind his back, “You know that I don’t.”

His voice sounded sweet, “Yeah, I do know.”

You stood against the counter, only a foot away from where he stirred the waffle mix. You watched as he eyed the waffle box intently, then poured the four other ingredients into the bowl after the dry mix. He looked a bit confused as he moved the spoon around the bowl, as if he was deathly afraid of missing something but not wanting to give the impression that he’d be stupid enough to miss something.

You knew where the coffee was kept and how to work his coffee machine and while you waited for it to brew, you watched Jean with a weak smile across your face. He could feel your eyes on him. Jean tried to ignore the weight of your eyes, not wanting his cheeks to go red though his chest was already inflating from the action.

Jean spared a glance in your direction, only a few seconds before the coffee finished brewing with a loud splash. For those few seconds when both of your eyes were held on each other, time seemed to slow. You could read the admirational glint in his brown eyes and he could read the appreciative glint in your eyes. Before the moment could go much further, you turned away and grabbed the coffee pot and mugs.

You not only knew which coffee beans Jean preferred, but you also knew how he liked his coffee. You poured a little bit of his roommate’s creamer into his mug, and then the tiniest bit of sugar as well. After the coffee was finished, you handed him the mug with a quick smile.

Waffles eventually found themselves on plates and forks eventually found themselves in between fingers. You both ate breakfast against the kitchen counter, Jean leaning down farther than you had to. You moved your fork against the softness of the slightly underdone waffles - he didn’t know just how much batter was supposed to go into the waffle maker at once.

Jean suddenly spoke up by your side, “Are you free this Saturday?”

You turned to the boy, “I normally am. Who’s next?”

“I have a friend on the football team.” Jean ignored your initial grimace to the statement. “He’s nice and desperate, the way you like ‘em.”

You turned back to your waffle with a small pout, “Maybe I should give guys a break for a little.” Jean raised an eyebrow at you. “I’ll just become a nun and write off men altogether.”

“You can’t do that!”

Your head snapped back to Jean, “I can’t?”

“No,” Jean said, “You can’t.”

“And, why can’t I?”

“You just can’t.”

A thick silence had settled in the room, the only sound being the scraping of forks against the porcelain plates. You wondered why Jean was against you becoming a nun. You assumed it was because he was the type to fight persistently, so possibly the idea of giving up on something indefinitely was foreign and upsetting to him. You knew he indirectly reflected onto other people, yourself included.

After a few more moments of silence, Jean started walking away. You watched him as he moved across the living room, heading straight towards his bedroom. Right before the boy could get to the door, he turned to you with a single raised eyebrow and a cocky grin.

“Hey,” Jean said from across the room, “Do you wanna go to the bathroom before I do?”

You looked around the kitchen with a confused look on your face, as if the apartment could give you any clue as to what he was implying with his words. You didn’t have to use the bathroom, nor did you ever insinuate within the last twenty minutes that you did.

You tilted your head curiously, “Why would I need to go to the bathroom before you?”

Jean smiled at the idea of his next words, already proud of himself, “Just to make sure I can’t crawl out through the window.”

Jean laughed as you pretended to throw your fork across the spacious apartment. He was proud of his joke, and you had to admit that you weren’t as upset as you should have been. Last night, the idea of your date crawling through a window in order to get away from you was the worst thing that had ever happened. But with Jean, it was just a funny memory.

Jean came back to the kitchen after a few moments, still giggling lightly about his joke he made nearly two whole minutes ago. You ignored his cockiness by trying to fight the smile forming on your face.

Jean leaned towards you, wrapping a muscled arm around your shoulders. Being pressed against his body in this way made you now realize how he smelled. He smelled of a rich cologne of rose and mahogany. You hadn’t noticed the cologne before he left for the bathroom, but it could have very well slipped past you.

Jean spoke from above you, “I’m glad you aren’t still upset about last night.”

“I never said that.” You looked up at the boy, his arm still around you. “But, I am starting to see the humor in the situation.”

“Good,” Jean said with a smile, “It’s not nearly as bad as that guy who asked if his mom could join you for the date.”

You cringed at the thought, “And, I said yes.”

“And, the one who asked for a vial of your blood.”

You shrugged at the taller boy, “At least he asked, there was the one guy who stole my hair scrunchie without asking first. I think he used it so he could clone me.”

“Yeah.” Jean quickly remembered another awful date. “And, the one who gave you a yarn doll of yourself as a first date gift.”

You smiled widely, “I’m nearly a hundred percent sure that it was actually a Voodoo doll. I’m glad I accepted it before I told him no to a second date.”

Jean grinned down at you, only an inch or two from your face. It was hard not to smile when looking at the boy. He was beautiful and reminded you of an ancient sun god. From his tanned skin, to his lively brown eyes, and his deeply inviting smile. It was hard to look at Jean and not feel your heart skip a beat, especially when you were so close to him.

“They’re all funny stories now,” Jean said, “So, that’s good.”

You moved deeper into his arm, “Funny stories that I don’t need.”

“But, funny stories nonetheless.”

“Yeah,” You mumbled sarcastically, “Thanks to you.”

“Hey!” Jean was pulling you into a quick bear hug as you laughed against his chest. “I try to find the University’s best guys for you! They are truly the school’s finest.”

“Then, why do they all suck?”

He didn’t answer your question because he wasn’t sure he knew why. He didn’t know why he threw these horrible guys onto you, under the impression of them being good matches. But, in his defense, it was hard to find somebody of your quality.

You were a goddess amongst mortals and these men could never be enough for you. And, if these men were mortals compared to you, then Jean felt he wasn’t even a mortal. He was the dirt hiding in the crevices of somebody’s shoe, he was the dust somebody breathed in before they yawned. Jean felt he could never equal up to you, but maybe these other guys could get close. And, maybe - just maybe - if he helps you get a boyfriend, then he wouldn’t think about you being a goddess so much.

Next Chapter

The Killer

(Reiner x Reader) - Word Count: 3.8k

Creature: a person who commits a series of murders, often with no apparent motive and typically following a characteristic, predictable behavior pattern.

Warnings: Major Character Death, Mentions of Drugging and Alcohol, Dry Humping

Quick Summary: while attending a friend’s Halloween party, you stay with a friendly face all night.

Extra notes: One more day until Halloween!

You never understood why people decided to party so much for Halloween. Hadn’t they watched a single scary movie, every time a serial killer shows up, there’s always a party involved. It’s as if the murderers could sniff out alcohol and hormones and was already on their way there, ready to murder somebody discreetly in the garage door when she goes out to get more to drink.

You weren’t stupid though. When you got invited to Hitch’s Halloween party, you assessed your options; either go to the party and get your guts displayed for your entire friend group, or go to the party and stick with somebody you trust so you don’t end up on an episode of Dateline. As smart as you are, not going to the party just wasn’t an option, Hitch was depending on you.

You met Hitch freshman year of college after having the great misfortune of being her partner for Chemistry 151. You didn’t know anything about prevalent bonds and she didn’t know anything about the periodic table, so you both depended on each other and surprisingly made it out of the class with a B.

But, unfortunately for you, Hitch started depending on you for more than just classes after that. She started using you as her alibi when she was going out with somebody for the night and wouldn’t be back at her parent’s house until 2 am. And, she started begging you to bring her snacks when she was bored in class and having meals with her whenever she was lonely. And, worst of all, every time Hitch threw a party, she always depended on you to provide the alcohol despite having her own license with an age over 21 on it - sure, it wasn’t real, but it was still a license that said she could drink.

So, if you said no to going to this Halloween party, you would not only lose Hitch’s friendship but a whole house of people’s friendship because you’re the reason the party turned into a dry one. You would force an entire group of college students to not drink for a weekend, and that’s a crime you can never be forgiven of.

Getting the alcohol was the easy part, honestly. You drove over to Hitch’s house with it clanking around in your backseat and trunk. Once you pulled into Hitch’s driveway, it was as if the partygoers could smell the vodka from your car. They all erupted from the front of Hitch’s house with their hands above their heads in victory as the alcohol was finally secured for the party.

So early in the night, only a few close friends were at Hitch’s house already. The current guest list consisted mostly of friends from Hitch’s high school and friends from her dorm building freshman year, before she moved back in with her parents.

The excited group all took turns bringing the boxes of alcohol into the house as you V-lined to Hitch. You walked through the group, moving through them like water as they kept their focus on the bottles in your car. They didn’t care much about who the messenger was, as long as they could get drunk tonight.

“Hey,” You said to Hitch once you were finally within ear shot, “Here’s the change.”

Hitch took the leftover money from your hand, “Thanks, I always know I can count on you.” Hitch came in for a hug, wrapping her arms around you. She pushed her mouth into your ear, whispering lightly to you, “But, please tell me that is not your costume.”

“What?” You moved back from Hitch quickly, gesturing towards your body. “What’s wrong with my costume? I’m Princess Diana.”

Hitch blinked at you, “You’re gonna have to explain that to people all night long, I hope you realize that.” She took another look at your outfit and then back at your face. “That’s just everyday clothes! You’re just wearing a sweatshirt and biker shorts, that doesn’t scream Princess Diana, a crown screams Princess Diana!”

“She was the people’s princess,” You yelled at your friend, “And, I don’t have any more costumes on me, I don’t know why you thought now was the perfect time to hate my costume.”

“That’s fine. I have extra costumes upstairs, let me choose what you are tonight.” Hitch grabbed your hand and led you towards the front door. “I still have to change anyway, so we’ll change together.”

You should’ve assumed Hitch only had short skirts and short shirts up here. And, you should’ve assumed she would put you in some ridiculously skanky costume that was too sexy to really be one costume. When you put the outfit on - a gray skirt, a gray shirt, and big ears - your immediate thought was a cat. You looked like a normal little gray kitten, but after you told Hitch your guess, she almost physically smacked you for guessing so wrongly.

“You’re a fucking mouse,” Hitch said with a roll of her eyes, “How dense can you be?”

“Well, I don’t look like a mouse.”

“A cat,” Hitch mumbled to herself, “What am I, a cat, I guess you were close, but wow, you’d think you’d know your animals.”

“I do know my animals.” You gestured aggressively towards your costume. “But no animal ever wore this.”

“Whatever.” Hitch walked towards you, and towards the door. “I’ll see you downstairs, okay?” With one last swoosh of the white skirt of her sexy angel costume, she was gone and you were alone in her bedroom.

You were back to step one, find a trustworthy buddy for the night. Hitch, as much as you loved her, was the poster child for the dumb girl who dies first in a slasher film. And, you thought maybe Jean or Eren could protect you throughout the night, but they were definitely the jock stereotype in the horror movie. And, with Armin being the nerd, Sasha and Connie being the stoners, you only had two real choices left; Mikasa and Reiner.

But, Mikasa was hard to keep by your side at these events. She was always running around the house, from the kitchen to the bathroom, taking care of everyone but herself. She was the perfect final girl, the one who surprisingly made it out at the end, but you weren’t sure Mikasa would actually want to be alive without Eren who would definitely die once he got caught pissing on a tree out back.

So, your only real option of safety was Reiner. Sure, he fit perfectly into the Jock stereotype - hell he even looked like Chris Hemsworth’s little brother from when he played Curt in The Cabin in the Woods. But, Reiner was different from that stereotypical Jock persona. He was kind and gentle and he always made sure you were okay when you saw him, he was just too nice to be a real jock.

Once you left Hitch’s room, shutting the door behind you to keep out the other partiers, you walked slowly down the stairs, scoping the place out. Your eyes moved over the now full house, watching people dance, and talk, and drink from red solo cups as they moved back and forth between Hitch’s kitchen and living room. You slowly noticed where all of your friends were, hoping that fact in itself would hint to where Reiner was.

Your eyes jolted across the house just as you reached the end of the stairs. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you realized you were right in the heat of the party and you hadn’t found your buddy yet. You needed Reiner to keep you safe, you needed Reiner to protect you with his big arms that could hurt any serial killer who might want you dead, you needed-

“Reiner,” You said as the blonde boy took off his mask right in front of you, “I didn’t realize that was you until now - which I guess makes sense since you were wearing a mask.”

Reiner smiled at you, “Yeah, sorry, it’s just too hot in here for a mask, but you looked afraid. Are you okay?”

He must’ve noticed the slow way you walked down the stairs, and how you looked all over the room. He must’ve noticed the way your hand gripped onto the railing as tightly as possible, as if the wood could somehow balance or even ground you to Earth. Reiner noticed everything, from your unnaturally wide eyes to that extra huff you took before almost giving up on finding him - and from that fact, you were certain, Reiner was just too observant to be the Jock in this horror story.

“I’m fine,” You partially lied, though Reiner made you feel better, your heart hadn’t stopped beating so quickly and your gut hurt from anxiety.

Reiner smiled wide at you, “Great, I’m glad to hear it. Would you like something to drink though?”

“Yeah.” You gave Reiner a weak grin. “I’d love one.”

You walked with Reiner through the piles of people, holding his hand to keep yourself from getting lost. Reiner’s hand was cold and calloused against yours, and he held your palm with a bit of force. After you both made your way into the kitchen, you had to rub the sore muscles now present in your palm from Reiner’s rough touch.

You watched as Reiner made you a drink, pouring corresponding liquids all into a red solo cup. You watched Reiner more than you watched his pouring, he was just too pretty not to look at. You watched as Reiner furrowed his eyebrows at the bottles of tequila, unsure of how much he already put in and how much should be put in for the drink to taste good. Once Reiner finished concocting his masterpiece, he shrugged and handed it to you with a smile.

It was awfully ironic how safe you felt in Reiner’s presence. His costume wasn’t some random outfit, but rather Ghostface from the Scream movies. You had a horrible feeling that tonight was going to end in bloodshed, and if you’ve learned anything from horror movies it was to never trust anyone. But, somehow the only person in the entire house that you felt comfortable with was dressed as your greatest enemy, a heartless serial killer.

You took a timid sip from the plastic cup, the drink was definitely something, that’s for sure. You could taste an aggressive amount of pineapple tequila and lemonade, and despite the rancid smell, the taste wasn’t awful. The liquid moved down your throat, and left a burning trail behind it causing you to jolt forward with a cough.

“Oh no,” Reiner said through a fit of laughter, “Is it that bad?”

You shook your head, “It’s good.” Reiner laughed even harder at your voice, realizing just how high it got in a poor attempt to lie to his face. You weren’t technically lying though, the drink wasn’t the best one you’ve ever had but it wasn’t awful either, it just seemed like Reiner added too much alcohol and didn’t choose flavors that complimented each other well.

“You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met.” Reiner took the cup from your hand and set it on the table where the tequila bottles were all lined up to be chosen from. “But, let me make it up to you. How about, for the next hour, I’ll do whatever you want me to do - sounds good?”

You couldn’t hide the obvious embarrassment on your face as your mind dropped into the gutters. How dirty minded did you have to be to think your close friend’s innocent request could have some sexual undertones. This was Reiner you were talking about, not somebody who would so stupidly hit on you this way, like Eren or even Jean. Reiner was too nice to hit on anyone with such a bizarre idea.

“Okay,” You spoke softly, afraid to answer too quickly and to reveal your excitement from having that much control over Reiner.

“So,” Reiner said with raised eyebrows, “What do you say I do first?”

“Dance with me.” The words came from your mouth before you could think through your options. You could’ve made the boy do anything, and you decided dancing was what you wanted. And, Reiner was definitely just as confused as you were by your words, he furrowed his eyebrows at you, and repeated your request back at you.

“Dance with you?” Reiner said slowly, “That’s all you want - you want me to dance with you?”

“Well, how many chances do I get? Can I choose just one thing for you to do, or do I get multiple chances?”

Reiner grinned as he quietly thought to himself. You couldn’t help but admire his features in his state of pure focus; the way his hazel eyes gilted around the room, the way his hair in it’s messy state from the mask actually looked so much better now than ever, and the way his index finger theatrically rubbed against his jawline where he held his thumb and finger against his chin. He was a sight for sore eyes, and you had to admit you always had a little bit of a crush on the boy - maybe that’s why you gravitated towards him at the beginning of the party, and it really had nothing to do with horror film stereotypes and feeling safe around him.

And, to be fair, you were being a little crazy to actually think there’s some sociopathic asshole who was planning on using the party as a hunting ground. You were getting too into the Halloween spirit, it seemed.

“Okay,” Reiner suddenly said once he finally decided, “I accept - I’ll give you three chances, how about that?”

You smiled at Reiner, “Alright, go make me a new - better! - drink and then meet me on the dancefloor.”

“Okay. But, you still have one more chance after those though.”

“Um,” You said as you poorly attempted to hide your grin, “I’d like to save that one for later in the night.” Reiner raised a single eyebrow at you. “Oh, shut up! I didn’t mean it like that!”

But, that was a lie - you very much meant it like that.

After Reiner walked away to make you a new, and better, drink, you went to your new meeting spot with him on the dancefloor. You walked through the bodies of college students all dancing together. It wasn’t surprising how close the people were dancing to one another, but the close proximity had your mind racing with everything you’ve ever learned from horror films. You were safest here, the killer would never be dumb enough to strike in such a large group of people.

Every horror movie you’ve ever seen always pushed the idea to stay together, and never split away from others because right when you do, it’s over. So, if your gut feeling of something bad happening tonight, you knew it at least wouldn’t happen to you, because you were smarter than these other partygoers - you knew everything about slasher films and the serial killers from them.

You looked all around the dancefloor, not looking at the people’s faces but rather their bodies. You watched where their hands were going and moving, you watched their fingers as they moved them over other people’s bodies. Even if slasher films failed you tonight and somebody did get murdered within the masses, you still knew killers always used knives for some reason so as long as their hands were occupied on bodies, then they weren’t focusing on stabbing somebody. And, if nobody was getting stabbed, that meant you were safe.

“Hey,” You heard the word right as a hand landed on your shoulder.

You jumped from the sudden touch, pulling your head from the dark place it was entering. This nervous feeling of something bad happening tonight was driving you insane all night long. You couldn’t even enjoy the party around you because you were too busy thinking of your next move and your possible escape plan.

“Reiner.” You turned around while rubbing your forehead, trying to alleviate the growing headache. “You scared the shit out of me, give me a warning next time.”

“And,” Reiner said through laughter, “What should I do to warn you in the middle of a dance floor of people? Punch you? Push you? Stab you?”

Your eyes bolted to Reiner’s eyes, “Stab me?”

Reiner tilted his head at you, he was no longer smiling. You realize now he meant the whole stabbing thing as a joke, probably because he was dressed up as Ghostface, but your heart was racing again. Being so close to people was activating your fight or flight, and you felt like running - you’ve only admired horror films, you didn’t want to live in one. But being in this house, and being around these people were making you feel like the main character of one.

“Hey,” Reiner said softly, “You look like you’re going to be sick, why don’t we step outside really quickly, okay?”

You nodded slowly, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You held Reiner’s hand as he led you outside. You briefly saw as Reiner set your plastic cup down, either on some random table or given to some random partier, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t see much as you moved through the living room, kitchen, down the back porch and to the side of the house where the smokers were hanging out.

Right as the cold air hit your skin, you felt better. Your headache was beginning to disappear or become tolerable at least, and Reiner stood by your side the whole time. He watched as you leaned against the side of the house, taking deep breaths and gripping the bricks to ignore your still rapidly pounding heart.

“Are you feeling better,” Reiner asked gently.

You nodded, “Yes, a lot better - thank you.”

“Of course.” Your eyes were closed, but you felt as Reiner pushed some of your fallen hair behind your ear to see your face clearer. “You know, you still have one more chance.”

You glanced at Reiner from the corner of your eye, “Oh, I do?”

“Yes. If you want to make me do something else, it’s up to you.”

Your mouth broke out into a ridiculous grin as you weighed your options. You knew what you wanted to make Reiner do, it’s what you wanted to do to him for so long now, but should you? What if Reiner didn’t want to do it?

You glanced at Reiner again, now seeing what his eyes were so focused on. His hazel eyes were hard with desire, and they were fixated on your face - specifically, your lips. He watched with pleasure as your grin disappeared and was replaced by your teeth digging into your bottom lip. You were being stupid by thinking that he didn’t want what you wanted, and part of you always knew he did.

“Okay,” You whispered, “I’ve decided - I want you to kiss me.”

Reiner’s eyes flashed to your own eyes, “Really? I had no-”

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

Reiner laughed before moving towards you. He placed his hand gently on your cheek before leaning in for a peck. The kiss was weak enough to make you audibly groan against Reiner’s mouth for more. This wasn’t the kiss you were expecting from him, you wanted passion and desperation, not middle school friends kissing for practice in their bedroom at 2 am.

“How about we play a game?” Reiner said with a mischievous grin.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his words, “What kind of game?”

“I gave you three chances, so you give me three.” Reiner gave you a second quick peck. “I now get to make you do three things.”

“One.”

“Two.”

You smiled at Reiner, “One and a half.”

“A half?” Reiner raised his eyebrows at you. “What does that mean?”

“The half can be something we agree on - and then you can have that one all for yourself, does that sound like a deal?”

Reiner nodded, “What do you think the half should be?”

You were suddenly aware of how cold you were, unsurprisingly the short skirt and crop top weren’t the most ideal October night clothing. Your teeth chattering quietly together, and your arms decorated themselves with goosebumps. You needed some kind of warmth without going back inside, so maybe Reiner could help with that.

“Be my blanket?” Your words came out only slightly interrupted by clattering teeth.

Reiner grinned, “That’s one way to word it, but okay, that’ll be the half chance.”

Reiner leaned on you, holding you against the wall with his body. The new position had you staring into his hazel eyes, and you realized they weren’t as soft as you always remembered. But, the new position was perfect for kissing, in fact your lips were already back on his as desire took over your body. This was the kiss you wanted when you had him kiss you, finally you were getting what you wanted.

Reiner slid his leg between your knees, then pressed his thigh between your legs. The touch was driving you crazy, you tried to move him closer to your body. You wrapped your arms around his torso and to his back, you dug your fingernails into the black cloak of his Ghostface costume, gripping it to pull him closer to you. You felt something hard press into your thigh and you were honestly amazed by how quickly you could get Reiner hard, it almost made you laugh.

“Reiner,” You moaned out as you pressed into him, “Give me more, please.”

“Don’t be impatient,” Reiner whispered before kissing down your neck.

“But, I want more, please.”

“You want more?” You nodded quickly as Reiner kissed back up to your ear. “But, it’s my turn to tell you what to do, remember?”

“But, Reiner-”

“And, I’ve decided what I want you to do for me,” Reiner whispered against the shell of your ear as the hardness against your leg actually began to hurt, “I want you to scream for me.”

“What?”

Reiner moved back and smiled down at you, for a second you could no longer feel that hardness in your thigh before there was a quick flash of silver. You realized too late that the silver was a knife, and you were too stuck between the wall and Reiner’s body to properly get away. Reiner pushed the knife forward, and you felt the pain explode throughout your entire body as it lodged itself in your chest.

One last scream erupted from your throat as a desperate attempt to get you some help before dying here alone. But, you knew how big this house was, how far away from everyone you were at the moment, how loud the music had been inside, and how loud everyone was yelling the lyrics to some stupid song - you knew they’d never hear you, nobody could save you, Hell even horror films couldn’t save you.

The Worst Wingman - Tiger’s Eye and Gold

(Chapter 2 / 3)

Jean x Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Previous Chapter

Warnings: Mentions of vomiting, Implied sex

Summary: Jean sucks at picking blind dates for you, but at least he’s trying. After one final attempt at finding love at the hands of Jean, he goes on a double date with you and the newest boy he’s thrown onto you. The boy is everything you never knew you needed, and Jean has to push down his growing feelings at the idea of you being happy without him.

Notes: I am not shitting on polpette di cavallo or the consumption of horse meat in general, I understand that it is a popular Italian dish and I was only mocking my ignorance towards the subject! (Plus, I thought it’d be funny to make a horse joke in a Jean x Reader)

Second Saturday

The night air wasn’t chilly, but you stayed by Jean’s side nonetheless. You pressed against his arm, using his body heat to keep yourself warm. And, Jean didn’t mind the close company - he actually liked it when you got close to him, it was the same reason he cuddled with you so often.

You and Jean stood outside of an unfamiliar restaurant, waiting for the last two people of the party to show up and to inform the hostess of their reservation. You normally hated double dates because the other couple always seemed to have more fun than you. But, you felt safe by Jean’s side, you knew he’d go as far as blatantly ignoring his date if it meant he got to have one conversation with you. Maybe that was selfish to think, but you didn’t mind, you’d probably never use him anyways - only keeping him as plan B in a worst case scenario.

But, you surprisingly had faith. Maybe - just maybe - this date will be your last one in a very long time. Maybe you would fall in love with this football player. Maybe you’d marry him and eventually start a family. Maybe you’d make sure to visit this same restaurant every anniversary - a physical monument of where your love had sprouted.

And then, as the years ticked by in your relationship, maybe you’d find yourselves growing sick of each other. Maybe you’d come home early from work and find him fucking his secretary over his desk in his home office. Maybe you’d stay with him, but only for the kids. Maybe - just maybe - you’d be able to ignore the whole affair just to pretend you love him for a few more years until your eventual death.

Oh God, love was exhausting - even to think about. And, it always seemed to end in pain, no matter how in love the couple seemed to be once upon a time.

It was hard to ignore the facts, and the inevitable ending to all things good. It was hard to ignore the over 50% of people who got divorced each year. And, it was hard to pretend you were more deserving of a lifelong fantastic marriage full of love and laughter just because-

“What are you thinking about?” Jean asked with a giggle.

You looked up at the boy, your eyebrows furrowed, “Huh?”

Jean smiled wide, “You look like you’re going to be sick.” He looked around quickly, taking in the sight of the other couples also waiting for a table inside. “Do you want to leave? We can go back to mine and forget this entire night was supposed to happen.”

“No,” You said quickly, “I want to meet him. You went through so much work to convince him to go on this date, why would I throw that away so easily?”

“Not really.” Jean frowned lightly as he looked past you, clearly reliving memories in his head, “I didn’t really do anything, actually.”

It was true, all Jean had to do was show the football player a picture of you and he was in. Jean had started the conversation by asking the football player’s schedule for the next weekend and if he was free for a date that Saturday. At first, the boy continuously refused any date, saying he needed the day to practice before the next game, but Jean showed the boy a picture instead of arguing with his words.

The football player fell completely silent, staring at Jean’s phone with widened eyes. It was hard to say no to a date with you - to put it simply, you were a goddess. The football player continued to stare at the picture of you, taken last Halloween when you and Jean had dressed as a witch and her black cat familiar; you being the witch and Jean being your cat. It was Jean’s favorite picture of you because you showed your candid smile as you laughed at one of Jean’s jokes, instead of your fake smile you saved for pictures.

The football player quickly agreed to the date after seeing the picture. He gave Jean his number, urging Jean to text him the time and place. He’d be there, the football player promised, he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

“Sure,” You said sarcastically, “I’m sure you had to promise him a month’s supply of-” You took a moment to remember what football players liked other than football- “Steroids.”

“Seriously?” Jean asked with a laugh, “Keep the steroids jokes to a minimum when he shows up, okay?” Jean furrowed his eyebrows. “Actually, don’t mention steroids at all when he gets here.”

You sighed, “If it’s any consolation, I was going to say protein powder.” You turned to Jean, slightly tilting your head. “Can I make protein powder jokes when he’s here?”

Jean frowned at you, “I guess-”

“And,” You added with a grin, “Can I make shoulder pad jokes?”

“I suppose-”

“And, can I make football field jokes? Or, is that too much as well?”

“Okay,” Jean said as he threw an arm around your shoulders, “I see what you’re doing.” Jean shoved your face into his chest which had always been his favorite way to shut you up. You inhaled the familiar scent of his clothes, and the unfamiliar scent of a new cologne he wore specifically for this date. “You’re such a smart ass.”

You pushed your head out from between his chest and arm, “You’re ruining my hair, you bastard!”

Jean laughed as he pulled you closer to him, “It still looks great, don’t worry about it.”

“Hey, Jean,” A new voice said from only a few feet away, “And-”

Jean pushed you from his body, allowing you to extend a single hand in the blonde boy’s direction, “Hi, it’s lovely to meet you.” You told the boy your name before he finally introduced himself.

The boy shook your hand with a strong grasp, “I’m Reiner-”

“And, I’m Pieck,” A black haired girl said as she poked her head out from behind Reiner’s broad back. The girl stood in front of Jean and smiled up at him, “And, I suppose you’re my date. Unless she is-” Pieck glanced at you- “Which I’m more than okay with as well.”

“No,” Jean said quickly, “I am.”

“Awesome,” Pieck said with a smile, “Is there a table being readied for us inside or-”

“I have a reservation,” Reiner said, “The table should’ve been readied about ten minutes ago, when we were supposed to be here - Pieck - if you didn’t take an hour just to pick a dress.”

Pieck smiled wide though her words were drenched in venom, “I thought you said you’d stop mentioning that once we got here, Reiner.” Pieck turned to her friend with a tilt of her head. “Am I correct?”

Reiner’s face dropped as well as his stomach, “Of course, I’m sorry, Pieck.”

“So,” Jean said to fill the new silence that had settled, “You all think we should head inside now?”

“Yes!” Pieck said as she ran to Jean’s side, sliding her arm around his and pulling him off towards the front doors of the restaurant. You couldn’t help but pout at their backs as they walked off, noticing how close they immediately got with each other and even the new smile plastered across Jean’s face.

“And,” A gentle voice said suddenly from your left, “‘You ready to head inside as well?”

You looked at the boy by your side and took in the sight of his arm thrusted in your direction. His arm was thick, as much as a football player’s arm is supposed to be. And - if you looked close enough - you could see where his muscle was bulging beneath the fabric of his button down shirt and where the veins of his arms were protruding from within his skin.

You walked inside the restaurant by Reiner’s side, intertwining your arm with his. He talked briefly with the hostess at the entrance, and then walked with you as the group was led to a large table in the back. The table was sensually dimmed and if you were here with only one person, you were sure you would end the night in their arms - the atmosphere was enough to cause your heart rate to accelerate and butterflies to flutter around in your stomach.

You took the seat across from your date, and Pieck quickly took the seat to your right. The night started slowly, a light stream of conversation amongst the four of you. You talked about the general information of each person; their college major, their hobbies, their living situations, their weekend plans, and anything else someone could think of in the heat of the moment.

The night was going swimmingly, you ordered the white wine and a dish going by the name of polpette di cavallo which you hadn’t given much thought to before ordering. It was a smaller dish than what you were originally expecting, a white porcelain plate with a mysterious brown substance surrounding three meatballs.

You pushed your fork and knife through the slightly charred meat, cutting the balls into consumable pieces. You continued to talk with the group and - more specifically - Reiner. You found out more about the boy you were on the date with, from his personal life to his football career to his plans after college.

He was sweet, he was funny, and he always gave you time to speak - continuously asking you questions about yourself.

But, unfortunately for him, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Jean. He talked with Pieck to your right, and you couldn’t help but listen to every word exchanged between the two. Even going as far as cutting into their conversation a few times and answering a question clearly directed at Jean.

“And then,” You said in response to Pieck’s question, “Jean went back to the party to pick Connie up because he finally realized he left him behind!”

Pieck giggled loudly, “That’s amazing!” She completely turned in her seat, now facing you instead of her date. “Then, what happened?”

You leaned closer to the girl, “Then, he called and begged me to meet him at the party.” You grinned wider. “Because, he didn’t want to leave again after going back.”

Pieck quickly turned back to Jean, “Why didn’t you want to leave? Even after Sasha threw that drink in your face?” Pieck then looked back at you. “And, why did he call you to come to the party as well?”

You furrowed your eyebrows at Pieck, “I’m actually not sure-”

Jean shrugged lightly, “I just- I wanted another beer and I needed somebody to drive me home afterwards.”

You turned your gaze to Jean, your eyes lit  with a new fury. That was why he called you that night? For a damn ride, not even for your company? It was always strange to you how Jean could be so casually cruel. He’d speak before thinking and end up breaking a piece of your heart without  noticing - and he did it frequently.

“Seriously,” The word was drenched in hurt as you shouted it across the table at Jean, “That’s seriously all you called me for? You just wanted a ride, Kirstein?”

Jean scratched the back of his neck, “I know you don’t really like drinking so I wasn’t worried about you getting drunk-”

“What do you mean I don’t like drinking?” You thrusted your hand towards your half-full glass of white wine. “I drink all of the time, I’m a real maniac.”

Jean smiled, “Oh, you’re crazy-” Jean leaned on the table, coming closer to you- “I mean, you really are a maniac -  How can you possibly slowly sip white wine at an Italian restaurant?”

And, as quickly as Jean could upset you and break your heart, he could just as quickly mend your broken parts.

You bit your lip to hide your new smile, “I can go crazy-” You leaned towards Jean as well- “Sometimes, I sip from your beers and then I immediately regret it because it’s gross.”

“Oh,” Jean giggled with the word, “You’re wild.”

It was like time had stopped completely - which seemed to happen a lot when around Jean. You were sure it was because he was too beautiful not to stare at, and Father Time helped you by stopping everything altogether. Or, you thought the effect of time stopping was purely psychological considering how deeply you knew the boy. But, whatever the reason, time stopped nonetheless.

You sat motionless, only looking into Jean’s eyes - a color reminding you of a tiger's eye crystal. And - like a tiger’s eye crystal - Jean seemed to radiate confidence and strength, and gave you an unknown balance to your own being. Jean was your second half, a part of you that you hadn’t known was missing. He was like the second half of an undone puzzle or-

“How’s your-” Reiner said, suddenly breaking the moment between you and Jean- “Your- uh, po- polpette-”

“Polpette di cavallo,” Pieck finished Reiner’s sentence for him.

Reiner nodded briskly, “That.” He smiled wide at you. “How is that?”

“It’s good,” You said as you scanned the plate in front of you, “It’s very thick, I think they used a different part of the cow than what I’m used to.” You glanced at the three faces watching you intently. “Maybe the stomach? I don’t know what part they use for hamburgers, I don’t really like thinking about it.”

Pieck giggled and pushed your shoulder lightly, “You’re kidding, right?”

You widened your eyes at the girl, “Oh, is it not the stomach?” You cleared your throat. “Then, the- the thighs?”

“No, silly,” Pieck said with a smile, “That’s not beef-” Pieck thrusted at the meat still sitting on the plate in front of you- “That’s chavelin.”

You gave Pieck a blank face, “Chave- what?”

“Chavelin.” Pieck tilted her head at you. “You know, horse meat?”

Suddenly, the chavelin was making another entrance, just this time coming back up. You smashed a hand over your mouth as the horse meat mingled with your stomach acid, begging to be back on the plate in front of you. You made quick eyes around the table; first at Pieck who was rubbing your shoulder soothingly and asking what was wrong, then to Reiner who was leaning across the table with wide eyes, and then to Jean who was already standing, gesturing you towards the bathroom.

Jean, sweet Jean, you felt strangely guilty for consuming the meat but - oddly enough - he didn’t seem to mind. At least, he didn’t look like he minded as you ran off towards the bathroom, your high heels clicking quickly against the fancy tiles of the Italian restaurant.

You swung the bathroom door open, ignoring the cringeworthy smash that erupted through the room once the door hit the wall behind it. There were other women in the bathroom, but you ignored them as you made your way to the first open stall you could find. The women watched curiously as you fell to your knees in front of the toilet, threatening to throw up the food you had so mindlessly eaten for the last hour and a half.

Nothing came out though, only a few breathless burps into the toilet bowl. You sat there for a few minutes longer than you needed to, sitting against the marble-tiled wall beside the toilet. You pressed your face against the tiles lightly, letting the coolness calm down your sweating skin.

“This is the women’s restroom,” A woman’s voice said from beside the sink.

“I’m sorry,” A familiar voice said back, “I’m just here checking up on somebody. She got sick, I’m here to-”

You lightly pushed the bathroom stall open, leaning against the edge of the door. You smiled weakly at Jean, standing with two middle-aged women who you remembered briefly from when you ran in here. He seemed to be aggressively convincing them of his honesty, swinging his arms around ferociously with his words. And upon seeing you standing in the doorway, the women finally believed him and didn’t try stopping him any further.

“Hi,” You said delicately from across the few feet separating you and Jean, “This is the women’s restroom, what are you doing in here?”

Jean bit back his smile, “I thought you might want some company.” Jean crossed the steps between you, now only a few inches away. “Nobody deserves to puke alone.”

You lightly pushed Jean’s shoulder with a giggle, “You’re ridiculous, but thank you-” You turned around and opened your arms to the inside of the empty bathroom stall- “And, welcome to my humble abode.”

“Oh,” Jean said with a smile, “I like what you did with the place.”

You grinned, “Thank you, I just got done with renovations, so I appreciate that.”

“And,” Jean quickly added as he pointed towards the lone sink in the corner, “The kitchen area looks very nice.”

You shrugged, “I tried to go for something a bit more modern and minimalistic.”

Jean breathlessly giggled by your side, “Well, you succeeded.”

Jean let you take the first seat, watching as you found your spot beside the toilet with the side of your face against the tiled wall. Jean then joined you on the floor, sitting by your side and pressing the side of his face against the tiled wall, but only so he could make eye contact with you.

The bathroom got silent a minute after Jean joined you in the stall. You supposed the other women were either staying quiet in order to eavesdrop or left to return to their dinners. Either way - you didn’t care if the women were there or not - you were going to talk to Jean freely in your secret space.

You weren’t sure why the bathroom now felt sacred to you. It wasn’t at the end of the Labyrinth for only the worthy to find. Instead, it was a bathroom in an Italian restaurant with a purely Italian menu that you should have used Google Translate for. But, it felt like you and Jean’s secret space, a place where you two could always find each other and could spend the rest of eternity together. Nothing bad happened within these stall walls, and nobody was eating horse meat for the past hour and a half within these stall walls.

“Do you remember when we first met?” Jean suddenly asked in an attempt to fill the comfortable silence in the bathroom.

You nodded lightly, “Yeah, of course I do.”

You had met Jean at a house party freshman year of college. You were invited since your roommate at the time was sleeping with the home-owner which happened to be one of Jean’s closest friends. And - ironically - you met Jean on the bathroom floor in that house at that fateful party nearly two years ago. It was strange how things went full circle.

Jean leaned his shoulder into your own, “Do you remember why we even started talking that night?”

You grinned to yourself, “Yeah, I do.”

You only started talking to Jean that night because you found him crying on the floor of the bathroom when you went to find your roommate. He was tipsy and had just seen his ex-girlfriend - who he was clearly not over - downstairs, dancing with another man. You had a bag of popcorn that your roommate begged you to make for her, but you instead offered it to Jean and joined him on the bathroom floor.

Jean tilted his head towards you, “Do you remember what you said to me?”

You looked into Jean’s eyes through your thick eyelashes, “Yes, I remember.”

While sitting on the bathroom floor together, Jean ranted to you about his ex-girlfriend and even the new guy she was dancing with. You heard about why they broke up, who she moved onto, and why he couldn’t bring himself to move on. You then leaned into his side on that bathroom floor, whispering one phrase you had been telling yourself for years.

Jean smiled to himself, “When you go looking for gold, you end up finding fool’s gold - so don’t go looking at all.”

“Let the gold come to you.” You whispered back to Jean, finishing your own quote from two years ago. You hadn’t known the words were so monumentous, you thought nothing of the quote and yet it stayed with him all of these years.

“I followed your advice,” Jean said matter-of-factly, “I followed your advice so well - actually - that I even started to push the gold away when it was just within reach.” Jean looked down at his fingers fiddling with the fabric of his slacks. “I set her up on a hundred horrible dates hoping I could forget about her for only a moment. But, I couldn’t forget about her, even if somebody wiped my memory.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot as you smiled at Jean, “That doesn’t even make sense.” Jean looked at like a wounded deer, wide scared eyes taking up all of your sight. “You can’t remember me if your memory was wiped - that’s not possible.”

“I’d manage,” Jean said with newly red cheeks, “I couldn’t forget you, even if the government tried to make me.”

You pushed Jean’s shoulder playfully, “Nuh-uh - you’re a liar, Kirstein.”

Jean shook his head, “Nope, I’ll always remember you.” He leaned his head in towards you. “I’ll remember your laugh and that little wrinkle you get between your eyebrows when I do something stupid.”

“Oh,” You said with a playful furrow of your brow, “‘You mean the wrinkle I get when you do anything?”

Jean grinned lightly, “Yeah, that one.” He continued leaning in closer until he was only a whisper away. “And how you taste like tropical fruits - like lemons and coconut.”

“And,” You whispered to his mouth, “How do you know what I taste like?”

Jean smiled, “I just intend on finding out.” His lips were pressed lightly against your own, his hand on the side of your head. “So, can I find out?”

You nodded, “Please do.”

Jean gently pressed his lips to yours, and the feeling made your stomach flip with excitement. You moved your legs closer to his, bare thighs on clothed thighs and the hem of your dress shifting up to your hips. You didn’t mind the new coldness spreading over your legs because your insides felt unbearably hot when kissing him.

The softness of Jean’s lips weren’t anything new to you. You had kissed Jean before, a soft smooch during a drunk game of spin the bottle - but never like this. His lips tasted like blueberry vodka last time you tasted them, but now his lips tasted like rosé and mint - a byproduct of the wine he had been drinking all night and the mint he sucked on before you ran off towards the bathroom - It wasn’t the best taste, but you weren’t complaining.

“I’m glad you waited for me,” You whispered into Jean’s mouth.

It became extremely clear to you at some point of the night just how much Jean means to you. Maybe because of one of the many times when you caught Jean’s eyes looking into your own. Or, one of the many times you noticed Jean talking to you when telling a story, as if you were the only one there with him. Or, one of the many times when you watched Jean fiddle mindlessly with the top of his wine glass, his eyes never leaving your frame - mentally undressing you in front of everybody in the restaurant and both of your dates.

He couldn’t help it though, he’s always loved how you looked in that black satin dress. It seemed everybody liked the dress, considering both Reiner and Pieck couldn’t keep their eyes off of your frame as well. Reiner and Pieck, who were still waiting at that table, hoping for some word from their dates who now found themselves sucking face in the women’s restroom.

“Jean,” You whispered, “We should head back.”

Jean sighed, “Okay.”

So, you did. You left the bathroom with Jean and eventually the restaurant, planning on going to where you normally did after dates - Jean’s apartment. It wasn’t easy saying goodbye to such a nice guy like Reiner knowing there wouldn’t be a second date, and it wasn’t easy saying no to Pieck’s offer of a second date with just her, and it especially wasn’t easy staring into that half-finished plate of polpette di cavallo until you and Jean finally made your exit.

The car ride was mostly quiet, both of you ignoring the obvious elephant in the room - what the hell happened in the bathroom. You didn’t regret the conversation on the bathroom floor or even the kiss that came afterwards, but you did regret ever cutting the kiss short. You searched your mind for some way back to that moment, thinking of a plan of either building and operating a time machine or trying again with Jean.

“So,” You said, “Pieck seems nice.”

Jean grinned to himself, “So does Reiner.”

You nodded slowly and turned to look out of the window, “‘Think there will be a second date with her?”

“If you’re having a second date with Reiner.” Jean spared a glance from the road in order to look at you. “‘Think there will be a second date with him?”

“Eh, he’s not really my type.”

Jean stopped the car at a red light. The color red seeped through the windshield, turning the inside of the car a bright crimson. Jean’s features were lit up by the light as his gaze danced across every inch of your face.

“He’s not?” Jean asked, “Then, what’s your type?”

You furrowed your brow, “Are you stupid?”

Jean smiled wide, “What are you saying?”

You shook your head and leaned forward, caressing Jean’s cheeks gently. You pressed your lips to his, smiling against his mouth. Jean kissed you back, quickly turning a sensual peck into a feverish makeout.

You felt Jean’s hands as they moved up the soft fabric of your dress. His fingers moved across your side and then wrapped around your body, landing on your back. He used the new position to pull you closer, much to your surprise considering the gasp that escaped from between your lips to the movement.

You wrapped your arms around Jean’s neck, pulling his face in closer. You pushed your tongue towards his mouth, and he gladly let it enter between his lips. You felt his breath hitch in his throat when you curled your tongue and swiped it across the roof of his mouth. Jean responded to the kiss with a tight grip on your dress only bringing you in-

A car suddenly honked it’s horn from behind you. Jean and you pulled apart as quickly as possible, ignoring that anything had happened. You slowly wiped your thumb across your bottom lip, smearing the wetness from the kiss onto your fingertip.

The rest of the ride was brutal, your desire for Jean was only getting unbearable. He didn’t even have to do anything. His fingers curving around the steering wheel made your heart pound. His slight head bob to the music quietly playing from the radio made your stomach inflate with nerves. And, his perfect posture in the driver’s seat made you want to groan with how badly you wanted him.

It was ridiculous, you were turning into a prepubescent boy - finding anything and everything Jean did as the epitome of attraction.

The car couldn’t have pulled into the apartment building’s parking lot any sooner. You were practically melting in Jean’s passenger seat and you needed to feel him again, you didn’t care why. You opened the car door and eventually walked alongside Jean towards his apartment complex.

You silently walked into the apartment building with Jean, and even rode up the elevator just as quiet. You waited beside him as he unlocked his apartment door. You watched as the muscles in his back moved under his shirt as he attempted to hold the door and unlock it at the same time - a trick the lock needed since the apartment was so old.

Once inside, you quickly kicked your shoes off, leaving them to lay with his shoes. You dropped your purse with the shoes as well, leaving it on the floor beside the door. And once you had discarded your unneeded items, you stood there - waiting for a sign from him, any sign at all.

Jean crossed his arms against his chest, his eyes landing on anything in the room but you. He peered across the kitchen and living room, even eyeing his bedroom door for a few seconds. Jean sighed before mumbling into the awkwardly silent room.

“So,” Jean said, “What do you want to do?”

You pressed your lips together, “I liked what we were doing in the car.” Jean suddenly looked at you, his eyes widened. “And, in the bathroom at the restaurant.”

Jean grinned to himself, “‘You wanna do that again?”

“Yes.” You nodded. “I do.”

Jean crossed the space between you, swooping his arms around you and pressing your chest into his. You bent your head upwards, giving Jean more room as his mouth pressed kisses into your neck and cheek. You giggled with your words as you attempted to speak.

“Jean,” You said as you pushed your fingers through his soft hair. You moved Jean’s face back enough to make eye contact with him. “‘Race you to the bedroom?”

Jean never thought he could let go of you in general, never mind quicker than he’s ever done anything before in his life. As soon as you were out his arms, Jean was running towards his bedroom door. You tried to beat him though, grabbing his arm and pulling him backwards, but nothing stopped him - he beat you into the bedroom.

You left the door open in front of you, standing back as Jean threw his discarded clothes from the bedroom floor and into his laundry basket - a half assed attempt at cleaning up. You supposed the gesture was nice, considering he wanted to clean up for you. But, it was even nicer knowing Jean had never seen his date with Pieck ending here.  

Your eyes peered across the entirety of his bedroom, something so familiar now with a different connotation. You’ve touched Jean plenty of times in this very room, but not the way you’re about to. You knew that after tonight, everything would be different between you two - but a good type of different that filled you with hope.

Your eyes landed on the alarm clock on his bedside table, the red numbers flickering suddenly from 11:59 to 12:00.

Second Sunday

Jean’s body weight was crushing on top of you, but a type of crushing weight that was comfortable. You swore you could live under Jean’s body for the rest of eternity. He was warm and strong and his kissing only made the position all that much better.

Your dress was on the floor and you were mostly naked, lying on Jean’s bed with only a bra and panties on. He pressed his bare chest into your chest, the only clothes on his body being his pair of slacks and the brown belt holding them up.

“Jean,” You breathed into his mouth, “I want you.”

Jean groaned against your lips, the sound coming from deep within his throat. He had never thought he’d hear those words from your lips, he never thought he’d be good enough to. But alas, here you were; underneath him, mostly naked, whispering gut wrenching phrases into his mouth.

You moved your hands down his lean body, dainty fingers finding the waistline of his pants. You undid the belt around his waist and threw it to the floor once it was out of the belt loops. You then brought your hands to his zipper, undoing that as well.

You pushed Jean’s slacks down his legs, moving them out of the way in order to free enough space for what you really wanted from him at the moment. You curled your hands around his body, digging your nails into his back in an attempt to bring him closer. You pressed your fingers into the small of his back as you bucked your hips upwards towards him.

You felt as Jean’s hardness pressed down between your legs, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped from between your lips. Jean moved his lips from yours, allowing more panting breaths to escape from your mouth as he continued to press down into you. He instead kissed down your neck, taking in each moan and ingraining them into his memory.

You moved your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, and pushed them down over his hips. He was just as big as you had always assumed. You weren’t perverted or dirty minded per say, but some nights you’d catch yourself with an excessive amount of questions; you’d wonder about his size, if he were good in bed, and if he had ever satisfied a woman before.

Sure enough, your questions would be answered after tonight.

You brought your hips to his, feeling him through only one layer of clothing now. You brought your hips off of the bed, pushing your panties down over your thighs. You awkwardly moved your legs around Jean’s, attempting to kick the fabric to the floor.

Jean brought his mouth to your ear before breathily whispering, “Do you still want me?”

You nodded frantically, “Yes, yes- yes, please.”

Jean grinned at your response, finally bringing his hips to yours. It was a moment you had waited for for much longer than you thought. This moment was in the distance for two whole years, and now it was finally here. You had wanted this for so long, to the point where you’d take anything Jean would give you - such as a drunken peck and a date with nearly every man on campus.

Next Chapter

Masterlist

Shows:

Attack on Titan

Armin Arlert

Fics:

Ruin the Friendship (Armin x Reader x Eren)

1 / 3 S.O.S. - You’re horny and desperate and your normal sneaky link is not picking up his phone. Just when you’re about to give up hope, Armin swoops in and saves you.

2 / 3 B.R.B. - After your study date with Armin, a new opportunity comes unexpectedly knocking at your door.

One Shots:

End These Games (Armin x Reader) - You weren’t expecting Armin to be that interested in his video games - Guess you’ll have to give him something else to focus on.

Forbidden (Dilf!Armin x Reader) - You’re a babysitter for the Arlert family and Mr.Arlert shows you just how much he appreciates your company.

Eren Yeager

Fics:

Ruin the Friendship (Armin x Reader x Eren)

1 / 3 S.O.S. - You’re horny and desperate and your normal sneaky link is not picking up his phone. Just when you’re about to give up hope, Armin swoops in and saves you.

2 / 3 B.R.B. - After your study date with Armin, a new opportunity comes unexpectedly knocking at your door.

One Shots:

Bad Idea (Eren x Reader) - Eren’s always had an addiction to staring at you, and you’re finally finding out why.

Jean Kirstein

Fics:

The Worst Wingman (Jean x Reader)

1 / 3 Dust and a Goddess - Jean has been your wingman for the last few months, but it’s becoming very clear that he sucks at his job - maybe because of some unknowing ulterior motives.

2 / 3 Tiger’s Eye and Gold - This is Jean’s last chance to be your wingman, and if he fails, you’re writing guys off altogether. But, now you realize he may be deliberately failing. 

3 / 3 The Lovebirds - Finally you’ve found the one you’ve been looking for, and honestly how could you be so blind for so long.

Sasha Braus

One Shots:

Slumber Party (Sasha x Reader) - You and Sasha have been toeing this line of becoming something more and one last sleepover finally pushes you both over.

High Tide (Sasha x Reader) - On the beach, a lifeguard’s got her eye on you.

Holiday Specials:

Whore-O-Ween Week - 7 days of spooky (and smutty) monster experiences! (2021)

Whore-O-Ween Week pt.2 - another week of spooky (and smutty) monster experiences! (2022)

Ahh, he’s so beautiful in your art style, I'm in love 😍 just thank you so much for bringing him to life! ❤️

Some modern AU Eren fanart inspired by @bunnysuit-femboy ‘s fanfic „A Secret Potion“ on Ao3 because him beating the shit out of stuff with a bat at a junkyard is just the hottest thing ever ♥️

Bad Idea

Eren x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Penetration, Cream pie, Cheating, Unprotected sex

Summary: Despite being a seemingly healthy relationship, Eren can’t stop himself from staring at you. Now, you’re finally getting to know Eren’s fascination in your body and the thoughts that keep him awake at night.

Notes: I don’t condone cheating, I just thought of this and couldn't stop myself from writing it...

You believe Eren’s most prominent feature is his eyes. They’re a beautiful sea-green that’s almost split between the blue of the sky and the green of the grass. His eyes are so wide and full of interest when you catch them staring at you no matter where you are and what you’re doing.

You’ve always noticed Eren’s eyes being on you, his gaze is an accessory that always compliments your outfit. You’ve felt the weight of his eyes when you’d walk into the kitchen and he was in there with your step sister, Historia. Or when you’d doze off on the way to the beach and could feel him watching you from two seats over. And even when he’s sitting with Historia while you watch a movie, holding her hand under the blanket while he watches you on the other side of the couch.

It’s odd how much Eren likes to look at you, considering he’s dating your older sister. But, you can’t say you hate the weight of his eyes either. Every time you walk into a room and you see him in there, you wait for the moment he notices the new guest is you. You wait for that split second moment before Eren looks up at you, and then never looks away. Feeling the weight of his eyes was your favorite feeling, the taboo of the entire encounter making your heart race and your panties wetten.

So, why were you pretending to be surprised when you felt him staring at you across the campsite?

You were lounging back in a fold-up chair around the firepit, watching the flames dance around each other to the music coming from somebody’s speaker. You had on your sleep shorts and a big t-shirt, not wanting to wear too much knowing you’d be going to bed once the fire died. It was then, while you were staring into the flames, that that familiar feeling landed on your skin and wouldn’t go away.

You looked up, taking in the scene in front of you. The sun was setting behind the thick forest of trees, painting the sky in colors of purples, pinks, and blues. Historia sat beside Eren on the picnic table, animatedly talking with Armin and Mikasa. Historia was deep into the conversation, but Eren had mentally exited. Instead of listening, Eren was watching you intently, the ghost of a smile across his lips.

You watched Eren back. At first, when Eren would stare at you, you looked away until the feeling was gone. But - more recently - you started watching the boy as he watched you. The ghost of a smile across your lips, one eyebrow curiously raised, and your eyes watching his emerald ones with a hint of interest.

It only made him stare at you more.

You shifted in the flimsy seat, leaning closer to the heated firepit. You shifted your eyes from Eren and down to the dancing flames. You leaned closer to the fire, so much so that your shirt fell forward, teasing the smooth skin underneath. You knew Eren was looking at you, so why not give him something to look at?

You felt a hand on your shoulder before you could look back up at Eren. You were planning on hooding your eyes seductively, smirking at him across the campsite, and tilting your head innocently at the boy. But instead you were ripped from your plan by a calloused grasp on your clothed shoulder.

You jumped in your seat and turned to the new person, “Hi.”

Jean smiles at the empty seat beside you, “Can I sit here?”

“Yeah.” You nodded slowly. “Yeah, yeah, take it.”

“Cool,” Jean mumbles as he joins you around the fire. You lean back in the chair, tearing your thoughts from Eren, though you could still feel the weight of his eyes from across the campsite.

Jean was a close friend of Eren’s, and - by association - a close friend of Historia’s as well. He was always at these group events, usually sitting with Connie and Sasha, doing something stupid. This was the first time he had ever spoken to you, other than your first meeting when he introduced himself. It was strange that he’d choose today of all days to talk to you, but so be it.

“So,” Jean filled the awkward silence, the only sound coming from the crackling of the fire and the sound of music playing from somewhere far off, “How are you enjoying camping?”

“It’s fun,” You answered shortly, “I like the fire.”

“I can tell.” Jean chuckled lightly. “You haven’t left that spot since we got the fire going two hours ago.”

You finally turned to the boy with a shrug, “Does that make me a pyromaniac?”

“Well, do you like to watch things burn?”

You thought about Jean’s question for a moment. You thought about what always attracted you towards fires. You wondered if you only liked to watch the flames dance around each other or if you only liked the scorching heat that radiated, but quickly decided that that wasn’t it. Your attraction to flames was never to the fire itself, but rather the wood underneath.

You liked to watch the wood char from a fire you control. You liked being the one to hit the burnt broken pieces from the log, only encouraging the fire further. You liked watching the log as it watched you, being well aware of the flames eating it alive until the fire finally died. Only when the fire dies can you see the log in all of its glory. The log is falling apart, black pieces flaking to the firepit’s bottom, beckoning you forward to feel mercy for the destroyed wood that kept you warm for so long.

“I suppose I do.” You turned back to Eren only to be met with an empty seat beside Historia at the wooden picnic table. “The wood doesn’t need to burn, but we burn it for our own selfish reasons.” You turn back to Jean, his eyebrows raised at you. “It’s kind of funny - actually - how selfish humans can be.”

Jean smiles sideways, “You say that like you aren’t human.”

You giggle, “I’m human. I’m sorry, that got weird really quickly.”

“Yeah,” Jean said through breathy laughter, “It did.”

There was a moment of silence before you said, “How are you enjoying camping?”

Jean was taken aback by your sudden question, “Oh, yeah, camping. It’s going well. I’m honestly surprised Historia invited you.”

“What?”

Jean started waving his hands in your face, “No, no, no, no- that came off so wrong.” Jean leaned back in the seat beside you. “Historia and Eren got in a fight the other day about you, so I was surprised she invited you to come along.”

“What fight?” You leaned towards the boy, the ghost of a smile on your lips. The excitement in the pit of your stomach was the same excitement you felt when you watched the log slowly burn away in the firepit.

Jean sighed, “Don’t get upset over what I tell you.”

“I won’t.” You leaned closer to the boy, your shirt involuntarily shifting forward and showing more skin than you wanted. But, you couldn’t notice your shirt at the moment, you were focused on everything wrong with Historia and Eren’s seemingly perfect relationship.

Jean’s eyes quickly glanced over your face and body before he started, “They were fighting the other day because Historia thinks he talks to you too much. She said he always targets you at parties and when he comes over, he's always around you.”

You pout at the boy, “We barely talk, though, and I’ve never noticed him being around me.”

It wasn’t a lie, you never noticed Eren being around you. You never noticed how he got closer to you the longer he watched you from across the room. You never noticed how he always seemed to be right over your shoulder, forcing himself into any conversation that happened with you. He’d been doing those things since you’d met him, it was simply something you were used to.

Jean put his hands up in silent surrender, “Hey, that’s all I’ve heard. Of course, I heard that through Armin who heard it through Mikasa who was with Eren when he was fighting with Historia over the phone. So, who knows what’s real. All we know for sure is that they fought and you were the key discussion point.”

“Weird,” You said as you leaned back in your chair, much to Jean’s disappointment.

“But,” Jean quickly continued, “I doubt it was that serious of a fight considering you were still invited to come on the camping trip. I just think they needed to blow off a little steam before the big trip.”

“Yeah,” You quietly agreed, looking around the campsite.

The campsite was beautifully bland. It was surrounded by a thick forest of trees, and a dirt path leading down to the site itself. The firepit sat in the middle of the campsite, a group of fold up chairs surrounding the blazing fire. It also had a metal park grill not too far away from the picnic table where Historia, Armin, and Mikasa all sat together. And close by the picnic table was the RV still attached to Jean's truck he had driven into the mountains only a few hours ago.

Right after getting to the destination, you mostly stayed on the couch in the RV, listening to music and ignoring everybody else. It was only when the sun started to set and the marshmallows were promised that you found your way to the firepit. And for the last two hours, you sat in your seat, eyeing up Eren and watching the log burn slowly.

“Anyways,” Jean said before standing up, “I’m thinking about taking a walk around the woods, care to join?”

You looked up from the blazing fire and at the tall boy looking down at where you were sitting. Jean was waiting for you, as if he expected you to give up the fire for his company instead. Jean was attractive, but you knew the only way you were going off with Jean was if Eren was here to watch your exit.

You looked around the campsite to find Eren’s eyes. He was no longer at the picnic table, talking with his friends. You couldn't see the emerald eyes watching you from the RV or the edge of the woods or - wait, there they were. Eren stood at the grill, helping Connie cook hamburgers as Sasha patiently waited beside them. And, just as you expected, his eyes were watching you intently.

You turned your attention back to Jean, “Yeah, I’ll join. But, wait for me to grab my sweatshirt in case it gets cold.”

Jean nodded, “Yeah, yeah. Of course. Take your time. I’ll be with Sasha when you’re ready to go.”

You rose from the seat and happily skipped your way over to the RV. You could feel the weight of Eren’s eyes from across the campsite, watching the way you move your body and the way your hair bounced with each overexaggerated step. Once to the door of the RV, you pressed your back into the handle and turned your eyes to Eren’s. You quirked a single eyebrow up at the boy, almost tempting him to come closer.

You turned around and found your way into the RV. You walked through the driver’s area and into the middle. Across from the dining table and kitchen was the couch in which you had taken reign over since you first walked into the RV. You found your backpack on the side of the couch, hanging over the back cushion.

You grabbed the backpack and sat on the couch to go through it. You shuffled through the things you had shoved in the biggest pocket. Things like the many cords for your appliances, your laptop, the book you’re currently reading, a packet of your favorite gum, and loads of other useless objects you didn’t need to bring. You frowned at your backpack, thinking you had shoved your sweatshirt into the bottom of the bag.

The door of the RV swung open suddenly and you jumped in your seat from the noise. You placed the bag back on the floor, giving your attention to whoever had joined you in the RV. You were expecting Jean, considering he was waiting for you, but you were dead wrong.

“Eren,” You whispered the name of the new guest, standing up with his entrance.

“Hey,” Eren grinned as he looked you up and down.

You tried to look away from his eyes, glancing around the entire RV, “Have you seen my sweatshirt?”

“No,” Eren said quickly, “What were you and Jean talking about?”

Your eyes snapped back to the boy, “Excuse me?”

“You heard my question.”

You crossed your arms against your chest, “That is hardly any of your business.”

You turned around, walking back towards the bedding area. You glanced in every crevice of the RV, still trying to find your sweatshirt. Eren followed you through the RV, only a few steps behind you.

“But it is my business,” Eren said to your back, “You made it my business.”

You turned around to him, “And, how the hell did I do that?”

Eren sighed, “Because, it’s you we’re talking about here. Everything involving you also involves me. You’re my girlfriend’s little sister, I care about you and I’m protective over you. And - Jean - he isn’t a good guy, you shouldn’t be talking to him.”

“He’s your friend,” You remind the boy, “If he’s a good person or not is not my problem. Maybe pick better friends next time, Eren.”

“You’re the one who’s going to follow him into the woods right before the sun goes down.” You tilted your head at that, so Eren did know what you and Jean had talked about. “You think he has good intentions? You think he only wants to walk and talk? You can’t be stupid enough to think he doesn’t have ulterior motives.”

“And if he does,” You say with a smile, “Who cares? If I let him lead me into the woods and strip me and then we end up fucking in a cold ass lake in the middle of the night, who cares? Surely, you don’t care.” You raised your eyebrows. “Right, Eren?”

Though the scenario was purely for playful purposes, Eren didn’t find it funny. In fact, he only frowned down at you, as if he were a disappointed father looking down at his rebellious teen daughter. Your relationship with Eren was strange, one minute he was watching you like a hungry man watching a seafood buffet and the next minute he was reprimanding you for simply making a joke.

“I don’t care,” Eren said with a single raised eyebrow.

You grinned up at him, “You aren’t acting like you don’t care.”

“Aren’t you looking for something?”

Your smile only widened, “Oh my god, are you jealous?”

Eren looked away from you, now focusing on the wall to your left. You continued to look into his big green eyes, trying to make him break. He was holding a strong front, but you wanted to hear his own ulterior motives - like, why he followed you into the empty RV in the first place.

“Come on,” You taunted, “You aren’t seriously jealous?” Eren remained silent so you prodded further. “Who are you more jealous of? Are you jealous of me for having the option to run off into the middle of the woods with your best friend to let him fuck me because I’m single? Or, are you jealous of Jean because he gets to be the one to fuck me?”

Eren closed his eyes, “I’m just protective of you, I told you that.”

You took a step forward, “Would you rather you be the one leading me into the dark woods and fucking me in the lake?”

Eren finally looked at you, “I don’t have to be Jean to fuck you.”

“But you have to be single.”

“Do I?” Eren took a step closer to you, making your heart pound in your chest. “You won’t tell anyone, right? You won’t tell your older sister?”

It was disgusting how Eren could joke about sleeping with you when he was dating Historia - but also, was he even joking? His mouth was set in a permanent smirk and his eyebrows were quirked and you could see the way his eyes searched every inch of your body. Suddenly, wearing shorts and a t-shirt wasn’t enough, you were sweating bullets under his gaze.

“Eren,” You said his name in a whisper, “That’s not funny.”

“Jokes are funny.” Eren tilted his head at you. “But, I’m not joking.”

You thought of Historia, innocently sitting at the picnic table right outside of the RV. You thought of Jean, waiting by the grill for you to grab your sweatshirt and finally go on a walk with him. And, you thought of Eren and how close he was. And, how he smelled of campfire smoke, and his beautiful sea-green eyes, and his plump pink lips, and his white teeth that were biting into his smile, trying to hold back his obvious amusement.

You wanted to say no - you really did - but now that Eren finally offered this to you, you could no longer think of Historia. You only thought of yourself, and how good Eren would feel on top of you. You thought of how heavy his body would feel on your chest, a lot heavier than his eyes have ever felt.

“You aren’t joking?” You whispered, there was a tint of interest evident in that one question.

Eren shrugged lightly, “I’m not joking if you’re not joking.”

“I could tell her.” You took a step closer to Eren, now only an inch away. “I could tell Historia about this whole conversation.”

Eren placed an uncharacteristically gentle hand on your cheek, “But, would she believe you? Her angelic little boyfriend trying to sleep with her little sister? That’s something I would never do.”

You raised your eyebrows as he leaned in closer, “I could still tell her, maybe even cry if I have to.”

Eren’s lips were only a moment away from your own when he whispered to your mouth, “And, what if she doesn’t believe you?”

Eren pushed through that second of space between your lips. He kissed you gently at first, as if metaphorically dipping his toes into the water before diving in completely. And surely, only a moment later, Eren came in for another kiss but this one quickly became ravenous and desperate.

Eren had his arms wrapped around your waist, bringing your body closer to him and pressing your chests together. You wrapped your arms around Eren’s neck, using his height to your advantage to stay with his lips. When Eren straightened back up, he took you with him, your feet going up on your tip-toes.

You weren’t doing much of the walking, but you went with him as he walked backwards to the couch. Eren let go of you before he sat down on the cushion beside your bag. He looked up at you where you stood above him, tilting his head mockingly. Eren then smacked his lap lightly, beckoning you forward the same way an owner would call forward a dog.

You crossed your arms against your chest from where you stood over Eren, “Seriously? Are you mistaking me for a bitch?”

Eren smirked and said, “Just sit down already. You don’t want people to get curious about what we're talking about, right?” You sighed and reluctantly took your spot on Eren’s lap, straddling him. “Good puppy.”

Your face was only an inch from Eren’s, and he was watching your lips as you said, “I’m not a puppy. That can be Historia’s job.”

Eren cringed at the sound of his girlfriend’s name, but then quickly replied, “Let’s not talk about her while you’re on top of me, alright?”

“Talk about who?” You leaned in and pressed your lips to Eren’s lips.

Eren smiled against your mouth, “That’s my girl.”

That nickname caused you to shift closer to Eren, your chests pressing together. Your lips found each other once again, the kissing just as desperate as before. Your lips moved against his, your teeth clattering together with neediness.

Eren had his hands on your hips, and he moved them onto the small of your back. His hands kept rising, moving up the back of your t-shirt and settling on your spine. Then, in one swift move, Eren swung you through the air and laid you down on the couch, finding his place on top of you.

You let out a quick gasp from the quick position change and the newfound pressure right where you needed him between your legs. You couldn’t help but whine into Eren’s mouth with every movement of his hardening cock against the heartbeat in your pants. And, each whine you fed him only made him groan into your mouth as well.

“Eren,” You whispered to his lips, “More - I want more.”

Eren pressed harder into you one last time before sitting back on his knees. As if he were getting timed, Eren grabbed the hem of your shorts and pulled them off in one swift move. The shorts hit the floor and Eren looked down at you with a sickeningly confident smile.

“How sweet,” Eren said, “You're so desperate for me.”

“Shut up,” You mumbled, “How can you call me desperate when you’re the one with the staring problem?”

Eren moves back on top of you, looking deeply into your eyes, “Don’t act like you never stared back.”

You turned your head and whispered into his cheek, “I only stared back because you stared at me.” You jutted your chin forward, holding back from kissing Eren. “Why did you stare so much anyways? What were you even thinking about?”

Eren grinned as he whispered, “I always thought about-” He chuckled quietly to himself- “Well, about what’s happening right now, princess.” Eren leaned in closer. “Watching you practically whine for more of me.”

You finally brought your lips to his, kissing him in response to his statement. Honestly, it was exactly what you had always thought. You knew Eren didn’t watch you because he liked your hair or your outfits or the way you smiled when you talked. You always knew there was some deep rooted sexual desire planted in Eren’s head - and that reality was entirely why you started staring back in the first place.

You liked the attention and you grew comfortable with the weight of Eren’s gaze over time. You knew even if you were completely overlooked in every conversation with your sister’s friends - desperately trying to squeeze your way into the conversations and even going to the lengths of clinging onto Historia’s arm, hoping you’ll receive as much attention as she was getting - Eren would still look at you despite it all.

Eren was back between your legs in a moment, but close wasn’t nearly close enough. You instinctively wrapped your legs around Eren’s waist, hooking them together at the ankles. You pushed your hands under the thin fabric of his t-shirt, moving your fingertips over the thick muscles of his back and shoulders. You pushed the shirt upward with a quiet command.

“Off,” You whispered against Eren’s mouth.

Eren shook his head, moving his nose against your own, “No time.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, about to ask what he could mean by that when he silently answered your unspoken question. Eren’s one hand moved from the side of your head and down to his waist, undoing his jeans in one experienced move. He struggled with the hem of his pants, so you silently offered two helping hands.

Your fingers fumbled around with the rough fabric of his pants as you both attempted to push them over his waist. His jeans moved swiftly over his curves, revealing his boxers pitching a unexpectantly long tent. You always assumed Eren’s cocky attitude was his way of overcompensating for something he didn’t have - but, now that you could see it, you realized he didn’t need to overcompensate for anything, he was just a cocky bastard with a big cock.

You felt Eren’s fingers hastily grab for the bottom of your panties, pushing them to the side. Eren brought his free hand to the waistband of his boxers, pushing the fabric down enough to free his cock from underneath. Your eyes were caught on his dick, taking in a sight Historia must see all of the time - considering how needy he seems to be.

But, what if Eren wasn’t this needy with Historia? You’re not Historia, and you don’t pretend to be either, so maybe he likes the change - in fact, maybe that’s what has always drawn his attention to you. Maybe he likes the way you let his eyes confidently decorate you, instead of Historia who gets giddy and blushy under his gaze. Maybe he likes that you don’t remind him of his girlfriend because sometimes getting used to something means getting bored of it.

Eren’s mouth kisses down your jaw and neck, pressing soft kisses to the sensitive skin under your ear. His breath was hot against your skin, making you squirm lightly under the pressure of his body. His whispers tickled the places he had previously kissed.

“‘You okay?” Eren whispered against your throat.

The question made your stomach turn with butterflies, “Mhm, perfect.”

Eren brought himself closer to your body, hips to hips and his cock finding its home in your entrance. The movement made your back arch, pressing your chest flush against Eren’s chest. A low ache of pain spread between your legs and you couldn’t stop the broken moan that left your lips.

“Shush,” Eren groaned against your ear before bringing his lips back to yours. He kissed you softly once before he leaned back to look into your eyes. It seemed he was pretending not to be balls deep inside of you as he gazed sweetly into your eyes. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, “M’fine.”

You always thought Eren’s gaze of desire was enough for you, but his gaze of admirational was enough to turn you on by itself. His eyes were burning holes into your own, and you felt yourself growing hot under the gaze as if you had anything to be nervous about. You bucked your hips against his own, wanting more of him but not knowing how to voice those desires.

He took the silent hint well enough, moving his body against yours, and pulling himself out of you before pushing himself back in. You bit your lip to stop the loud moans from escaping your throat. Eren brought his lips to yours, attempting to help suppress the moans from coming out. Under better circumstances, Eren would’ve loved to hear your sounds of pleasure, but not when his friends and girlfriend were right outside.

“How about-” Eren groaned against your mouth as he pushed his hips against yours- “Next time I’ll take my time.”

“Next time,” You whispered breathlessly in between two kisses.

Eren repeated, “Next time.”

The thought of doing this again made your heart jump and your entrance grow a little tighter around his cock. Next time, he was already planning a next time. Next time without his friends waiting outside, next time without his girlfriend within a thirty foot radius, next time without a quick fuck - something a bit more meaningful than right now.

So, you let him use you. You let him use your body to fill his every desire, and use you as his personal fleshlight. He slammed his hips into you, desperately reaching a high that you weren’t even close to finding. Because next time you knew he’d take his time with you, and let you have as many orgasms as you could hope for.

Eren was close to his climax, you could tell by the way his thrusts got sloppy and his kissing got messy against your lips. He leaned back far enough from your face to whisper into your mouth.

“Where?” He whispered with a groan.

“Anywhere.” You whispered back, moving your hips against Eren’s hips to help bring him to his approaching high.

WIth one last gutty groan into your mouth and one final thrust fully into you, you felt yourself get filled with his warmth. After Eren pulled himself completely out, he dropped his head to your shoulder, breathing heavily against your skin. After a few moments of silent relief, he pushed your panties back to cover the mess he had made.

Eren moved to sit back on the couch, covering himself back up with his boxers and jeans. You rolled yourself partially off of the couch, grabbing your shorts from the floor before moving them over your legs. You were once again fully dressed, now looking at Eren with furrowed eyebrows.

You wanted to say something, but without a single word of acknowledgement, you walked to the door of the RV. Before you could reach for the door handle, Eren spoke up suddenly from the couch.

“Your sweatshirt,” He said quickly, his eyes once again finding yours.

You glanced lazily around the RV, “I don’t need it.” You looked back at Eren with a cocky grin. “Maybe I can borrow Jean’s sweatshirt if I get too cold.” Your grin only grew wider. “Or, maybe we can create our own body heat - you know, if we have to.”

Eren frowned at you, “You’re insufferable, you know that, right?”

You shrugged lightly, “That’s just how little sisters are.”

It was as if you had watched his world crash around him. You watched realization make itself known in his eyes and in his face, from his now slack jaw and widened eyes. He was finally remembering - after forcing himself to forget for so long - that you were a little sister. Not only a little sister, but his girlfriend’s little sister.

You regretted saying anything, so you instead walked out of the RV. Nobody had noticed you were gone and nobody was waiting for your return. You walked across the campsite to stand beside Jean still talking with Sasha. You stood silently for a few moments until Jean finally noticed you by his side.

“Hey.” Jean looked you up and down, noticing your newly rosy cheeks and swollen lips. If he gave himself the time to think about it, he could come to the conclusion of what had happened in the RV, but Jean silently chose obliviousness. “‘You ready to go?”

Your eyes moved quickly to the opening door of the RV, Eren making his escape. There was a new awkward gait to Eren’s walk as he made his way to his girlfriend and friends sitting on the picnic table. Historia excitedly ran into Eren’s arms when he came within a ten feet radius, and you felt your stomach turn in jealousy.

It was weird how he labelled himself as Historia’s boyfriend, but yet he was just as much - if not more - yours. In just a few months, Historia and Eren would be celebrating their two year anniversary. And, in a strange way, you would be celebrating with them as well as their unofficial third.

“I’m ready.” Your eyes met Jean’s and you offered him a genuine smile. “Let’s go walk.”

For a second as you made your way towards the edge of the woods with Jean, you felt the familiar weight of Eren’s eyes on your back. It was heavier than normal, two new feelings silently shared between the two of you: the guilt of what you had done, and the excitement of knowing it would happen again.