He's Out Of Character TO YOU. I Know Him Though.

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.

Holy - Angel

(Jean x Reader) - Word Count: 2.2k

Creature: a spiritual being believed to act as an attendant, agent, or messenger of God

Warnings: Blasphemy, Very Religious Mindsets, Vaginal Penetration, Creampie, Breeding Kink

Extra Notes: Kicking off the Halloween countdown strong with some angelic Jean! Also, for all of the Fleabag fans, this is lightly inspired by the Confessional scene in season 2!

You were used to the church being quiet at this time of night, it was unusual to see anyone awake at midnight and especially seeing them inside praying. But, this was the only time you liked to come here; you’d show up on Sundays, Wednesdays, and almost every Friday and Monday at midnight.

The large wooden front door of the church creaked as you pushed it open. You leaned your entire body weight into the door, slowly moving it to rest in its normal spot for Wednesdays and Sundays. It’s only completely open all day when there's a service, but just because it’s shut doesn’t mean you can’t come in and pray - that’s something the priest had always told you since your first day here.

Your shoes clicked against the hard mahogany wood flooring underneath you. You walked down the main aisle of the church, passing the pews you normally sit in during sermons. You tended to choose the pews towards the back, not wanting to impose on the other churchgoers - the only person here nice enough to make you feel welcome has always been the priest. Everybody else gave you weird looks for showing up alone when you used to come every week with your husband.

You finally made it to your destination, the large mahogany confessional stood high in front of you. You pulled back the curtain for the left side of the booth and immediately kneeled on the small step stool in front of the small iron grate separating you from the priest. You took a deep breath before bringing all of your sins to mind, readying yourself for the next conversation.

This definitely wasn’t your last time in this exact position and place, and definitely wouldn’t be your last time either. Every week you tried to confess, same day, same time, same priest, same church. You enjoyed routine and you liked to believe maybe Father Jean liked it as well, always knowing you’d make your way here eventually every single Friday night. You took a deep breath before beginning the same routine of the night.

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned.” There fell a moment of silence in which you knew the priest was basking in as well as yourself. “It’s been a week since my last confession.”

You started talking about all of your sins within the last seven days. You spoke of the time you saw your ex-husband at the grocery store the other day, and how you had wished you had the nerve to speak your anger - but you didn’t. You also spoke of the time your mother called and you purposely ignored the ringing because you didn’t feel like talking at the moment - but you did call her back later. And, you spoke a bit too long about the large chocolate cake you bought and ate all by yourself alone in your living room last Saturday night.

After minutes and minutes of confessing every moment within the last seven days where you felt minorly sinful, you ended with an apology. You always ended with many sorrys said to the priest. Sorry for wasting your time, and thank you for being here for me. Sorry for always sinning and thank you for always blessing me despite my sins. Sorry for stealing your sleep on a Friday night, and thank you for always being available when you are available.

Your routine for every Friday night at midnight in this same confessional, with this same priest, in this same church was down to the T. You wouldn’t be surprised if there came a time when you would confess the same sins, constantly, every week. Now, in the routine, all that was left was Father Jean blessing you and you going on your merry way back home.

“That’s all of your sins?” Father Jean asked after a moment of letting your confession truly settle in the air between you both. “You have nothing else left to say to me right now?”

You nodded even though you knew the priest couldn’t see it, “Yes, that’s everything I can think of at the moment.”

“Not even masturbation?”

The question shocked you to your core. You didn’t even like saying the m-word and here was your priest saying it to you, asking you if you have participated in the act. You wondered why he’d even ask such a thing, did he believe you were lying about your sins?

“No, no no no, of course not, Father.” You felt like crying, pleading with the priest to know that you would never leave a sin out of your confession and you would never lie to him. “I have never done that, never.”

“Wow,” Father Jean spoke as if he gave up completely, “You’ve never even masturbated, you really are a saint, you know that, right?”

“I,” You attempted to speak, but only air came out of your mouth. You thought maybe it was a good sign you were breathing, at least now you knew this whole conversation was real. “I, uh, I think it’s a little sacreligious for you to compare me to a saint when I’m not.”

Father Jean giggled breathily on his side of the confessional. You heard him smack his hand against his leg, as if he were physically giving up on this conversation. You felt guilty for making him feel this way, you now wished you had masturbated at least once so you could help him through this conversation - maybe he wouldn’t be so upset if you had done something that sinful in your life just once.

But, you never had. You only had sex with your husband a handful of times before he divorced you a year into the marriage. And, even then, you had been persistent on waiting to have sex for the first time until after your wedding day. Before then as well, you always swallowed the urge to touch yourself, never wanting to give into sin.

“I’m sorry,” You pleaded to the priest, “I can- I can touch myself if you want me to!”

“No, no no no.” The wood creaked on the other side of the wall in front of you, it sounded like Father Jean was walking around on his side of the confessional. “I don’t want you to do that, I just- I have never met somebody like you before, you know that?” The curtain on his side sprung open quickly, you looked toward your curtain, wondering where he was going. Outside of your curtain, you heard him speak. “You’re special, you deserve a special reward.”

You blinked at him, dumbfounded, “Father, what do you mean, what are you saying?”

The curtain in between you and the priest slammed against the wall beside it and you stared up at Father Jean. You were still on your knees in front of him, looking up at him with large and delicate eyes. He could see your innocence in your face, he could see how sinless you lived and yet how guilty you felt for every normal feeling you had. It was amazing to him to see someone so much like himself.

“I’ve been looking for somebody like you for quite a long portion of my existence.” Father Jean shook his head as he examined you in front of him. “And, I have never met anyone as holy as you are. I want to reward you, God is allowing me to reward you, if you accept his reward.”

You nodded quickly, “Yes, of course I accept. I accept anything God will give me.”

“Then, stand up for me.” You did as he said, and stood on your feet. You had to look up at Father Jean at this distance, you had never been this close to him. You always knew he was tall, and you had always heard the other members speak of his height, but you had never had the chance to witness it yourself so closely. “And, kiss me.”

Your throat had gone dry, you had to admit you had found yourself imagining kissing Father Jean many, many times - he’s the most handsome man you had ever seen. But, you never thought it become a reality, you knew priests couldn’t marry, so you assumed sex was not an option for them. Hearing your priest tell you to kiss him made you want to question his celibacy, but you also didn’t care so much, he didn’t have to tell you twice - you have wanted to kiss him for as long as you’ve known him.

You leaned forward and kissed him, swiftly landing your lips on his lips. You had never kissed anyone other than your ex-husband, and you had to admit that kissing somebody else was a whole new experience for you. And, you had to admit you liked it, you liked it a lot - and part of you even missed these intimate moments with your ex.

Your body was suddenly flush against Father Jean’s, and you weren’t sure if this was your doing or his. His body was not only pressed against your own, but now he was backing you up, back into the confessional. You moved your lips from his mouth to give yourself just enough space to talk.

“Father,” You whispered against his lips, “Where are you-?”

The priest sushed you quietly, “It’s okay, just trust me, okay?” You nodded while your lips still grasped for his, not wanting to stop kissing him but still curious in his plan. But, you did trust him, you trusted him with every ounce of your soul.

Father Jean backed you against the mahogany wall and you picked you up so your legs could wrap around his waist. You gasped as he pushed your back against the wall enough to only need to hold you up with one hand. He used his now free hand to unbutton his black slacks.

The new angle you were at forced your dress to be pushed up to your waist, and now his free hand scrambled for your panties. You tried to speak, but all that came out was a mess of breathing and syllables.

“Fa-fa-fath-er” You spoke through breathless gasps.

The priest shook his head, “Don’t worry, God has a plan for you and this baby, he’s going to be very special.” Father Jean moved your panties to the side, pushing his dick inside of you in one swift movement. You would’ve been more impressed by his pure muscular strength if you weren’t preoccupied by his whole cock inside of you.

The feeling of being with Father Jean felt so much better than being with your ex-husband, it felt holy oddly enough. You felt like you were floating rather being held up by the priest’s muscular arms, and you could swear - in your lightheaded state of pleasure - that there was an odd golden glow around the both of you. The golden glow made you think that maybe God himself was here to witness this moment, and that thought made your eyes flood with tears. You always knew God was real and active in your life, but this was the first moment you felt reassured by that feeling.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as gripped onto the back of the priest’s shirt. You could feel that Father Jean had some odd bumps on his shoulder bones, they felt like long linear scars meeting at a point at his ribs. You were curious about what these marks were caused by, but not enough to open your mouth and attempt speaking - and you were sure if you had opened your mouth, nothing but moans would come out.

You suddenly felt as Father Jean’s abdomen tightened against your stomach, and even though you had only had sex a handful of times, you knew what that meant. You leaned in close to the priest, bringing your mouth up to his ear and whispered sweetly to him.

“Come inside of me,” You begged, “Please, Father.”

You didn’t have to say much more than that before Father Jean was releasing himself inside of you. You and the priest sang a chorus of moans as you felt yourself get filled up with his warmth. You wanted Father Jean to fuck you again and again and again, knowing that eventually you’ll be filled up with as many children as he wants for however long he wants you.

The priest set you back on the ground gently and your legs wobbled as they hit the ground. You felt like a newborn deer just learning to walk for the first time and you looked at it as well when you tried to leave the confessional without the priest’s assistance. Father Jean helped you to a pew and sat down beside you, placing his hand gently on your arm before speaking softly to you.

“I’m glad you have accepted God’s gift,” Father Jean said, “He will be pleased to know one of his children is walking the Earth, continuing his legacy for him.”

You nodded, confused but not in the mood to ask questions. You’d ask him some other time, you’d ask him about God’s gift to you, what he means, why he’s doing this, and when you can do it again. You also wished to ask the priest what those marks on his back were from, but just as suddenly as Father Jean had pinned you against the wall, you felt the spirit of sleep dawn upon you. You rested your head on the priest’s shoulder and whispered to him.

“Okay,” You said in a small voice, one you were unsure if the priest could even hear, “Thank you.” Jean chuckled as you began drifting off into sleep.

Whore-O-Ween

Day 1 (October 25th):

The Goddess (Sasha x Reader) - at a party in the woods, you meet a mysterious girl and want more from her.

Day 2 (October 26th):

The Witch (Pieck x Reader) - a suspicious singing voice leads you to an old friend’s house, and you catch up with her. 

Day 3 (October 27th):

The Incubus (Connie x Reader) - when your parents aren’t home, you invite your best friend over for a movie night.

Day 4 (October 28th):

The Lidérc (Jean x Reader) - while reminiscing about your husband, you have a strange dream that deeply upsets you.

Day 5 (October 29th):

The Demon (Armin x Reader) - after following instructions from an old leather book, you are suddenly visited by a supernatural being.

Day 6 (October 30th):

The Killer (Reiner x Reader) - while attending a friend’s Halloween party, you stay with a friendly face all night.

Day 7 (Happy Halloween!):

The Vampire (Eren x Reader) - a night at a new, popular, and mysterious nightclub opens your eyes and makes you a permanent member.

The Goddess

(Sasha x Reader) - Word Count: 3.5k

Creature: a female deity,,, who so happens to be exiled from her home in this au.

Warnings: Praise Kink, Cunnilingus (Receiving), Sex Outside

Quick Summary: at a party in the woods, you meet a mysterious girl and want more from her.

Extra Notes: Day one of Whore - O -Ween is here! I hope you all are just excited to read these stories as I have been to share them!

The summer was a perfect season for losing yourself; you didn’t have to worry about your classes, you didn’t have to worry about your reputation, and you didn’t have to worry about your parents. You only needed to worry about yourself, and that was something you could do.

You went to the bonfire because you needed it. You needed the break, you needed the drinks, and you needed to finally leave your muggy little apartment that you were starting to get sick of. Your roommate, Pieck, could see it with every step you took - she saw the way your eyes lingered on the windows, and how your hand longed for the front door.

She heard about this bonfire from her friend, Reiner. He was a linebacker on the football team and the whole team regularly put together parties just like this one. During the school year, during the summer, during the middle of the night and early in the morning - football players loved to party, and they’d invite anyone who looked like they could let loose for a few hours.

Pieck was just excited to see you leave the house, even if you didn’t wear that pretty little red dress that fit your curves so well. She wanted to see you finally let go of this strict and hardened shell of yourself that you had created during the school year. She never realized just how quickly you could let go of that shell, even though she knew how much you craved the freedom that came with letting go.

You were dancing, drinking, and socializing. She had never seen you so in your element, the way you moved around the woods and interacted with people - it was as if you were born for this one moment. She watched as you talked with everyone, taking sips from tons of red plastic cups, and dancing with anyone who extended a hand towards you.

Pieck admired how well you were making this party your bitch. That was why she turned her back on you, she knew you weren’t invisible to these people. Everybody had their eyes on you, watching you closely, waiting on your every move. So, she knew she didn’t have to be the babysitter anymore, you could handle yourself.

That’s how you found yourself in somebody else’s care, another pretty girl with her tunnel-visioned watch on you. You hadn’t seen her around before, you would’ve remembered a girl like that. Her burgundy brown hair, her light brown eyes, her sideways smirk, and her body-warming giggle that was just contagious enough to make you smile to yourself each time she laughed at your joke.

“You’re so funny,” The girl said softly with the ghost of a grin still across her lips, “You must have a lot of friends.”

You shrugged as a giggle escaped you, “Not really, I mostly just have my roommate and she has a lot of friends. I’m like-” You took a moment to think, and took the time to drunkenly lean in closer to the girl- “Like, a friendship leech, I just take all of another person’s friends instead of making my own.”

“Well, I’m not your roommate’s friend.” The girl smiled wide at you. “But, I’m your friend - so, being a friendship leech no longer applies to you.”

You giggled as you leaned back on the tree stump, “I don’t even know your name!”

“Sasha,” The girl said as she leaned towards you, “My name’s Sasha.”

“Cool.” You looked off into the distance and watched the flames dance for a moment before remembering to introduce yourself. You shouted your name over the sound of the music around you and Sasha, making sure your new friend heard it.

Hell, you’d give her your social security number if she asked for it, this was the first real time you had made a new friend other than Pieck. You suppose that immediate loyalty to this new friend is why you trusted her so deeply. You trusted her when she asked you to dance, you trusted her when she asked you to hide her from her ex-boyfriend, and you trusted her when she handed you an unlabeled bottle in the middle of the dancefloor.

You held the bottle tightly in your hand as you threw your head back to take a real swig of it. The only thing Sasha had said was that the liquid would really fuck you up and that she made it herself earlier that week. And, Sasha was completely right, the liquid tasted of peaches and honey and though you couldn’t feel carbonation in the drink, you still felt the bubbles pop in your mouth before slipping down your throat.

The alcohol took you by surprise at first. It caused you to physically take a step back from Sasha, bending over and threatening to spit the liquid out all over the dirt below you. Sasha moved her hand through your hair as you tried to completely swallow the strange drink. She cooed you through the reaction, sounding almost bored with her praise.

“You’ve got this,” Sasha said gently as she leaned towards your ear, “I’ve seen you drink from fourteen cups tonight alone, this is nothing.”

She was right, you knew how dangerous it was - but, you still welcomed drink after drink from people. You even had random people mix anything together and then, you’d chug it in a matter of seconds right in front of them. And, even at one point of the night, you had grabbed a half-full fifth of blueberry vodka and you were walking around with the top of it in your mouth. You were surprised you hadn’t thrown up yet tonight, and Sasha’s alcohol definitely tasted more than a thousand times better than anything else you had drinken tonight, so why was it so hard to swallow?

“Swallow it,” Sasha added, “And I’ll make sure I reward you for your efforts.”

The offer hung heavy in the air, and it made your heart quicken. You felt your entire body try to welcome the liquid, simply because you craved her reward. You desired anything she would give you, especially if that reward was herself. But, to be honest, you’d even take a single chicken nugget if that’s what she offered you. Anything from her was better than nothing.

You felt the alcohol run down your esophagus and into your stomach. You stood back up and threw your hands above your head in a moment of silent victory. You smiled wide at Sasha, your chest heaving with each ragged breath you took. You weren’t just happy not to embarrass yourself in front of your new friend, but mostly because you wanted her reward - you were never a materialistic person, but she made you want whatever she would give you.

“Good job,” Sasha said as she gently caressed the side of your face, “You took it so well.” Her palm was soft against your face and you felt yourself leaning into her touch. Her smile was genuine, her eyes full of a deep pride and gratitude.

Her praise made your stomach turn with nerves. You craved to make her proud, you would do anything if she would give you this same look afterwards. You leaned towards Sasha, and whispered gently into the small space between both of your mouths.

“Now, what’s my reward?” Your eyes found her mouth, hoping she’d say exactly what you wanted.

Sasha grinned, “Anything you want.”

And, she did - she said exactly what you wanted to hear from her, as if she could read your mind.

Sasha’s hand was warm against your own as she led you through the party. You felt the weight of eyes on your body all night, but when you were walking alongside Sasha, it was gone. You felt invisible as you slipped through dancing people and drunk conversations, even going as far as walking unnoticed through the middle of a conversation as if you had been a ghost.

The walk from the party to her personal destination wasn’t long. Sasha steered you away from the part of the woods where people were still getting wasted behind you and towards a stretch of woods that looked too beautiful to be real. The trees were decorated in golden orange leaves instead of green ones, and the area fluttered with life, butterflies and birds all flying by you and Sasha.

It took a moment for your mind to successfully take the whole scene in and process it. The scene in front of you was absolutely gorgeous; from the trees to the animals, to the moon shining through the leaves above you, even to the small stretch of a lake you could see through the trunks in front of you. The stretch of woods had you by the heart and it caused you to nearly forget Sasha being by your side completely.

Suddenly, Sasha’s hand snapped in front of your face, bringing you out of your possessed state. She seemed almost upset as she talked, but you were convinced she wasn’t upset considering her seductive saunter towards you and the gentle smirk on her face.

“Why can you see me?” Sasha asked, and before you had time to answer, she continued, “I’ve been practically dead for about 400 years, and yet you can see me, why?”

Your eyes widened as you stared at her, “You’re dead?”

Sasha smiled, “Not actually - gods don’t ever really die.”

“You’re a god?” The words felt untrue as they made their way out of your mouth. Sasha didn’t look like a god; she wasn’t sparkling or causing bystanders to fall to their knees. Sasha was the last thing you’d expect from a god, she looked too normal - so, maybe she was lying.

“Yes.”

You giggled to yourself, “Right,” You answered sarcastically, “And I’m a vampire.”

Sasha frowned at you, “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” You pretended to hiss at Sasha, baring your blunt teeth in her direction. You tried to suppress the giggle bubbling up from your stomach, but let it out between your tight lips. While focusing much too hard on your own laugh, you almost missed Sasha’s low chuckle from only a foot away.

Sasha stopped laughing abruptly, “You think this is funny?” Sasha walked around you, moving from your side and to behind you. She was just over your right shoulder, pressing her chest into your back and pressing her lips against the shell of your ear. “Would you rather laugh or hear what I have to say?”

Your throat went dry and you tried to swallow to wet it, “Hear.”

Sasha smiled, “I am the god of wine and festivities - so, of course you’d find me at a party, right? But, you’re intuitive enough to see me in general - you must also be intuitive enough to see how people don’t look at me. How I go invisible to the naked eye, and I always rope in anyone I touch - weren’t you wondering why that is?”

You remembered how many refused to look at Sasha at the party. Not paying any mind to her when she walked up to you and asked what you were drinking. Not paying any mind to her when she pulled you onto the dancefloor and swung you around as you laughed. Not even paying any mind to her when she stuffed the finish of a bottle into your mouth and forced you to drink.

She didn’t seem like she was lying, so why not believe her? It was strange to you just how quickly your undying loyalty for Sasha had died. You were willing to hand over your own social security number to her only an hour ago, so why were you so hesitant to believe a single story now?

“So,” You said quietly enough for only Sasha to hear, “That’s what makes you a god, because nobody can see you but me?”

Sasha giggled, “No, no, no, of course not - I’m a god because-” Sasha paused for a moment and leaned in closer to you- “Well, that’s much too complicated to explain now, but I can explain why people can’t see me. If you’re interested, of course.”

Sasha wiped her hands down your sides, letting her fingers linger on the soft fabric of your dress. You felt your breath hitch your throat, the closer she got to your most sensitive spots. One of her hands moved towards your hips, dipping her fingers towards the hem of your dress and her other hand moved towards your chest, her fingertips gently playing with the cup of your tits.

Your voice got stuck in your throat, “I-I’m interested.”

“Great,” Sasha said with a smile, “Did you know there’s such a thing as too much?” Sasha moved her one hand to finally cup one of your breasts. “You can have too much fun, too much pity, or just too much love - and, I got in trouble for all three. I had too much fun despite being the goddess of wine and festivities; I had too much pity, falling for a seemingly scared girl who acted as if she wanted to be mine; and I had too much love in my heart for that girl. She’s the reason I can’t be seen anymore.”

You gasped as Sasha’s hand slipped under the hem of your dress, “Wha-what do you mean?”

“My punishment for being too much was that I couldn’t be seen by humans anymore. I enjoyed their love too much, that’s what he said to me! So, he took their love away. I went from party to party for 400 years, searching for somebody who could see, with no luck - that is until you.” Sasha gently brushed her fingertips against the soft skin of your thigh. “You can see me, and you shouldn’t be able to. So, I want to reward you - for being so intuitive and for reminding me what it’s like to feel a mortal’s attention. Do you accept that? Do you want me to reward you?”

Her words were going against everything you’ve ever heard or learned in your entire life, but you still knew the answer to that question immediately after she asked it. She may have been blowing apart two decades of information learned from the world around you, but she was still the most important person to you at that party. And, she was still the person you desired the most on the planet at the moment. So, of course you answered without a second of hesitation.

“Yes.”

Sasha turned you around quickly, taking you in her arms and kissing you profusely. Sasha backed you into the nearest tree, using the bark wall to only get closer to you. You were sure the marks from the trunk of the tree would be imprinted on your back and shoulders by just how hard she was pushing you into it, but you didn’t stop her - you didn’t mind the aggressiveness.

Her kisses were rough, as if she were trying to prove a point to you. Too much, she wanted her kisses to seem like too much, she wanted you to push away from her, ask for air, ask for space, maybe even run away as fast as you possibly can - but, you didn’t mind not breathing, especially when Sasha was the reason. So, instead of pushing back, you leaned into her kiss, letting her have the control she was trying to give to you instead.

Sasha moaned against your mouth, feeling you fall into her and mold yourself to be her ideal lover. You were willing to change yourself, mentally and physically, if it meant a moment with Sasha would come with it. And, that was all she wanted, she desperately needed somebody who didn’t think she was too much - she desperately needed you.

Sasha moved her hand even further up your dress, cupping your ass over the thin layer of your panties. The fabric of your dress bunched up at Sasha’s wrist, trying to follow her hand as it ventured further into your panties. Her fingertips lightly grazed the most sensitive part of you before removing itself from the fabric and going back to your hip.

“Wha-where are you-?” You asked breathlessly against Sasha’s face.

Sasha leaned back and smiled crookedly at you, “Don’t worry, pretty girl, how about I give you a little bit more?” Sasha fell onto her knees right in front of you, pushing your dress up to your hips before replacing the lost fabric. You whimpered as Sasha’s lips kissed up the inside of your thigh, leading towards the one spot you wanted her most. “But, you tell me if I’m being too much, okay?”

You shook your head frantically, “That’s not possible.”

“That’s nice to hear.” Sasha delicately kissed up your plump thigh before pulling your panties down your legs and having you step out of them. Sasha scooped up your leg and put it over her shoulder, now face to face with the most sensitive part of your body. “Now, say some more.” Her words caused air to blow on the wet area between your legs, and the new coldness from her breath made you shutter.

Sasha licked between your legs, smearing the wetness that had gathered from kissing her - Hell, even from dancing with her, just the act of being close to Sasha had you losing breath and getting wet between your thighs. She cleaned you up nicely though, gripping your thigh with her rough fingers as she licked up the slick that had collected between your legs.

Sasha’s hands ventured up your body as she licked over every inch of your entrance. Her fingers danced up your skin and you were suddenly reminded of her role as the god of wine and festivities - did moments like these count as festivities because you felt pretty festive. Her fingertips tiptoed up your thighs, over the curve of your ass and she used her hands to bring your body closer to her, circling her palms around your hips.

You felt like you needed something to hold you up right, your legs starting to turn into butter the longer you stood there. You leaned back against the tree behind you, letting the bark mark you up again from the weight of your body against the trunk. You arched your back away from the tree, giving Sasha more room to roam your body with her tongue.

You pushed your hips closer to her face, grabbing onto her hair as a way to pull her close. Your fingers fisted locks of long brown hair, pulling at Sasha’s scalp in an attempt to alleviate the pressure that was building in your lower stomach. You pulled Sasha’s face closer to you just as the band inside of your stomach broke and you released all over her mouth and chin.

Sasha pulled back from your body, her brown eyes meeting your eyes from where she kneeled on the grass below you. Her face was drenched in you, but she didn’t seem too bothered by the new wetness on her face. Instead, Sasha just licked her lips and wiped the excess off with the back of her arm.

“If I remember correctly,” Sasha said with furrowed eyebrows, “I think this is the first time I’ve ever been on my knees for somebody.” Sasha smirked at you. “Usually, people are kneeling for me instead.”

You lightly moved your hand over Sasha’s hair, “How about next time, I kneel for you? Does that sound good?”

“That sounds like a dream.”

Though she was being serious, Sasha almost sounded like she was making a joke. You supposed that was a downside to being such a fun loving god, you could never take a moment seriously because it just wasn’t what you did. And, you supposed, it must be hard to play that specific role you’re forced into simply because you’re all knowing being, you even sort of pitied Sasha in a strange way.

You grinned at Sasha, “If you think just my words sound like a dream, then wait until you hear the pretty moans I pull from your mouth when I go down on you.”

Sasha laughed as she rose back onto her feet, she was only an inch away from you. She took her time as her eyes looked over your face and listened to the way that your breath still caught in your throat. She was pleased with herself, but she was also pleased with you - pleased you were able to see her, and pleased you allowed yourself to unravel before her.

“It’s a date.” Sasha leaned in and pecked her lips to your lips. “Tomorrow night?”

You gave her a curt nod, “Tomorrow night.”

You no longer cared if she really was a god or not, you’d kneel before her everyday if she wanted. You would go on your knees, on all fours, pray with your head between her legs - you’d be a good little follower of her’s, soaking up her every command. Because maybe - just maybe - someday she would want to be back with her face between your legs, and she could make you feel this good again.

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

End These Games

Armin x Reader

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: fingering, exhibitionism, mentioned masturbation - slight dub con

Summary: Reader has been watching her boyfriend play this stupid game for nearly an hour. She is in desperate need of some attention, but he is still ignoring her. Guess she’ll have to force him to pay attention to her by offering something he could never say no to.

Notes: I got inspired and wrote this in one sitting. Also, I don't know shit about Skyrim but... enjoy!

You never understood what was so intriguing about Skyrim. It was a low quality game about being an adventurer in a dangerous world. It was fun, sure, but not that much fun. It wasn’t fun enough to completely ignore your girlfriend after begging her to come over to your house. Nothing should be that much fun.

You watched from Armin’s bed as his fingers moved skillfully over the keyboard. His screen showed the game as his avatar maneuvered through the snowy woods. He talked into a headset, asking his friends where they were for the fight and where they were going next.

You had been watching your boyfriend for the last ten minutes, your face set into a permanent frown from boredom. You loved seeing him happy, but you preferred when his happiness was tied directly to you. Whether you were making him happy from the thing between your legs or from the words coming from between your lips, you didn’t care. You just loved making him happy.

You disappointedly threw your phone to the bed and slid to the edge. Armin didn’t notice anything in the room had changed, so you continued. You moved to his chair, placing your hand delicately on his shoulder before whispering sensually to him.

“Can I join you?” You asked, sweetly, your voice barely audible to the game-obsessed boy.

“Yeah,” Armin said quickly, moving back on his chair to give you enough room to join him. You grinned before swinging your leg over the boy.

He was used to you joining him while he was gaming, but never like this. He was used to you sitting on his lap, facing the screen and watching him play. You would even flick his fingers during stressful battles, much to his opposition. You would laugh as he playfully cried out, trying his hardest to keep his avatar alive on the screen, fighting battles with both you and the enemies from the game.

But, you now sat on him backwards than what he was used to. You straddled him, your chest close to his as you snuggled your face into the crook of his neck. He had his arms around your body, his fingers still moving across the keyboard. And, your arms were pressed in between your’s and his chests, bent at an awkward angle.

He continued to play, despite his initial confusion. He still talked to his friends through his headset and moved his avatar around the map. You thought sitting on his lap would be enough to calm your anxious heart, but you needed more from him. You didn’t like sharing your boyfriend’s attention with an inanimate object.

Inanimate objects couldn’t compare to you, they couldn’t make him as happy as you could.

“Armin,” You whispered into the soft skin of his neck.

“Yes, baby,” He said into the side of your head, giving a single peck to the hair above your ear.

“Remember when we first met?”

Armin smiled to himself because of course he remembered the day he met you. It wasn’t too long ago, but even if it had been a hundred years ago, he would have remembered it like it had been yesterday. He felt pity looking back on a version of himself that didn’t know true happiness yet, but he also felt warm and fuzzy remembering a time when everything you two did was new.

“Yeah,” Armin said with a grin, “I remember.”

The first time you had met Armin was purely accidental, a series of fateful events all leading towards the love of your life. You were invited to the event because of your close relation to Sasha, since you helped her study for her chemistry final exam. She wanted to pay you back for helping her get a good grade, so she invited you to Eren’s apartment for a small get-together.

At said get-together is where you met Armin.

You were awkward at first, sitting on Eren’s couch as they all played games on the tv. Sasha offered you excessive amounts of alcohol, to which you mostly accepted. Then, you drunkenly talked to everyone in the room, finally finding your way out of your own shell.

You made your way to Armin, the one person in the room you wanted to talk to more than anything. Ever since you walked into the spacious apartment, you found your eyes drawn to the blonde boy. You wanted to hear anything he could say. You wanted to be near him, you didn’t have to touch, just to feel his presence was enough.

That night made you certain that wishes came true. You talked endlessly with the boy - about anything and everything - and you even got his number before he dropped you off at your apartment. He went home thinking about you and you went home thinking about him.

It was the beginning of a cliche love story, and you liked that. You liked the boy so much that you even thought about him for the rest of night, with your hand in your pajama pants and panting breaths escaping from between your lips.

You leaned back from the boy, making eye contact with his blue eyes. You took in the sight of his up-close face, something so familiar yet so extraordinary at the same time.

“I think about that day a lot.” You smiled tiredly at Armin.

“Oh,” He said with perched eyebrows, “Why?”

You had directed the conversation to exactly where you wanted it. He was exactly where you wanted him to be. The prey making his way to the predator’s trap.

Your cheeks flushed and you looked away, feigning shyness, “No, it’s embarrassing.”

“I doubt it is.” Armin grinned. “Just tell me.”

“You promise not to make fun of me?” You tilted your head, smiling like a schoolgirl. Armin nodded, his mind no longer occupied on the game behind you. He’d rather talk to you anyway. “I have to hear you promise.”

“I promise I won’t make fun of you.”

Your grin was now gone, along with your feigned innocence. You leaned closer to the boy, your chest now flush against his own. Your hands found a new home on his sides, your fingers grazing over his ribs, feeling every bump under your fingertips.

You leaned your mouth to his ear, whispering sensually, “I masturbated to the thought of you that night. After meeting you, it hurt me, just how badly I need you - it hurts.”

Armin’s entire body fell into shock. His stomach tensed under your hands and his breathing came out ragged and broken. His lips were parted slightly, letting his breaths escape.

You knew him well enough to know what was going through his head. You knew he imagined the imagery you set before him. You knew he was thinking about you, lying all pretty on your bed, one hand down your pants and the other covering your eyes. As if you were ashamed to be unknowingly aroused by the idea of him being inside you.

He thought about the desperation in your voice as you confessed to him and he was suddenly hyper aware of your hands on him. You were so close to him, situated on his lap in the perfect position for him to hump up into the air and touch something. Something he suddenly needed as well.

“Oh,” Armin's voice came out as a whisper, “You did?”

You bit back your smile, “Yeah. I still think about it to this day. When I’m lonely. When you’re busy with class. I just think about you, and what I’d let you do to me.”

“And what would you let me do to you?”

Snap. The trap closed around the prey, much to the predator’s delight.

You looked intently into his eyes, “Whatever you’d give to me, I’d take it all.”

Armin’s thigh twitched at the sound of that. He thought about how many inches separated his cock from your entrance. And, his heart rate accelerated when he realized that it was only a few inches, maybe two or three. It would take one strong move and he could finally hear you moan out for him. But, he instead decided to work slowly.

One of Armin’s hands suddenly came to your arm, not even the slightest bit interested in the avatar running around a seemingly empty village behind you. He had his fingers wrapped gingerly around the plush of your bicep.

“Seriously,” Armin asked innocently, “You’d take anything?”

“And everything.” You stated with a glint of desperation in your voice.

Armin moved his arm under your own, his fingers now resting on your hip. You felt your chest tighten with the movement. You knew where his fingers were headed, and your heart couldn’t take the suspense of the moment.

“And,” Armin asked with a curious tilt of his head in your direction, “When do you want me?”

“All the time,” You whispered back to the boy.

It was exactly what he wanted to hear. He dragged his hand along the soft skin of your thigh, fingers digging into the skin and leaving temporary indents.

“And,” Armin said while he watched your eyes intently, “Would you let anyone else touch you this way?”

“No,” You said, “Only you. I only want you.”

Armin loved the thought of you subconsciously comparing everybody else you’ve ever been with to himself. And, he loved knowing they could never come close to him at the top of your mental list. He could even die happy knowing you would never leave him because you know that nobody would ever make you feel the same way. It didn’t matter how he treated you - though he treats you amazingly - he could destroy you mentally and you’d still come crawling back to him at the end of the day.

Armin brought his hand under the opening of your sleep shorts. His fingertips now played with the lacy fabric of your panties underneath. Even physical contact close to where you wanted it caused your core to throb desperately for more.

“Kiss me.” Armin demanded, insinuating a trade with his words. With every good kiss you gave, you’d get something you want in return.

So, you leaned forward and kissed your boyfriend. Your body moved closer to him with each second of the kiss, your back arching and your chest brushing up against his own. Your fingers, still on his sides, now dug into his skin, your nails leaving behind shallow marks to his soft skin.

The room, once filled with the sound of Armin’s mindless conversations with his friends about dragons and taverns, was now filled with the sound of lips smacking together desperately. You then pushed your tongue into his mouth to which he whined hopelessly onto your lips.

Armin’s hand made its way over the lacy panties under your shorts. His fingers brushed against your clothed core. Your boyfriend’s body lit with satisfaction at the knowledge of just how wet you were from only kissing him, sitting on his lap, and talking about how much you needed him. The wetness was already on his fingers, soaking through the thick fabric of your panties.

His fingers brushed the sensitive spot that needed him most and you moaned quietly to his mouth. His lips ate every whine you gave while his fingers brushed further into the sensitive area.

You moved closer to the boy as your hips tried to get even closer to him, desperately bucking into his hand as he teased your entrance. Despite the lack of space between you two already, you tried to connect further to both his body and hand. You wanted to feel everything he felt, you wanted to feel his body heat on top of your own.

Armin had now completely forgotten the game behind you. He wasn’t bothered by leaving his avatar in the middle of a random tavern that his friends had decided to meet up at. And, his friends weren’t bothering him through the headset, instead they all sat quiet on the other end of the call, patiently listening for your moans.

You didn’t know about the boys’ interest in your moment with Armin. And, Armin was too deeply indulged in you that the thought of muting his end of the call never crossed his mind. The boys’ made sure to mute their own ends though, right when they heard you say that first sentence of masturbating to the idea of him. They were sure the moment would progress and nothing was better than free porn, especially when the free porn was moaning so desperately into their ears.

You bit your lip, trying to quiet down your panting breaths, “Can you touch me more?” You whispered the words onto Armin’s lips. “I wanna feel you inside me.”

Armin nodded against your face, his lips finding yours before doing as you pleased. His fingers slipped past the wet fabric of your panties, pushing them to the side. His calloused fingers brushed the soaked area under the panties, dragging out a mostly quiet moan from between your lips.

“In, in,” You said desperately to his mouth, “I want them in.”

Armin smiled against your lips, “Be patient.”

You nodded and felt as his fingertips brushed delicately against the area. His fingers teasingly played with your throbbing core, only making the wetness problem worse. His middle finger leaned up towards your entrance, using the collected slick to enter without much trouble at all.

You let out a high pitched moan at the feeling of something being inside. You lazily kissed Armin’s mouth, leaving wet kisses down his jaw, neck and onto his collarbone as a silent thank you. He openly accepted the gratitude, moving his head up to allow more kisses.

You brought your hips further down, widening your straddle as best you could on the small desk chair. You opened yourself further, hoping the boy would get the memo of how badly you needed a second finger in with the first without you having to say it out loud. But, you knew Armin better than anyone, and you knew he loved to hear your hopeless pleas even if he knew what you wanted already.

“Please,” You whispered into the skin of his neck, “More.”

He listened to your pleas this time, whether because you asked so nicely or because he truly wanted to give you more, you were unsure. But, the logistics of the situation became irrelevant when he pushed the second finger into your entrance. You felt the pressure of the fullness of both fingers and let out a soft moan into his hair, trying to muffle the noise.

“I wanna hear you,” He said as he pushed the two fingers in and out of you, “If you want me to continue, tell me.”

“Please,” You cried out to him.

He loved seeing you so desperate. He loved watching just what a small part of his body could do to you. Whether it be his fingers or his tongue or even his half-hardened cock pressed against your ass while you make breakfast. He loved hearing just how badly you needed him, and only him.

You normally try to stifle your moans, hoping not to disturb a silent peace in the room. But, when Armin told you he wanted to hear you, he meant it as a bargain. If you were loud and desperate for him, he would give you something to be loud and desperate about.

And, loud and desperate was exactly what you were. You pushed your hips into his hands, trying to suck his fingers up further than what he was allowing. You let go of that mental filter in your mind and let your moans come out as they came to your throat. You sent each whine into the sensitive skin of his neck, to which he proudly continued pumping his fingers in and out of you.

The lewd noises coming from beneath your shorts could be heard throughout the entire room and even through the headset. The boys on the other end heard each squelch of your pussy, and mentally stored the sounds in their own heads. They could also hear your moans, and your desperate curses as Armin curled his fingers inside of you, finally letting his fingers hit your sweet spot.

“Armin,” You whined his name out, “I-I’m-”

“You gonna come, baby?” Armin’s voice asked sweetly, contrary to the crude words he had spoken. You nodded your head fiercely against his neck, in silent response to his question. “Then, come.”

And with that final word, you let yourself release on his fingers and in your panties. He rode out your high, letting his fingers stay put for a few moments while you tried to catch your breath against the skin of his neck. You gave the boy sweet kisses to the soft skin, silent thank-yous for what he had done for you.

“Baby,” Armin whispered as he pulled his fingers from under your shorts.

“Mhm,” You mumbled against his skin.

“Want me to fuck you?” His voice was once again sweet for such a crude question.

Your eyes snapped open, “Right now?”

You lean back and look at the boy in front of you. His blue eyes were darkened with a newfound lust from your shared moment. And, you could see he was smiling innocently, despite having just pushed you to climax only a few moments ago.

“Yes,” Armin said, “Right now.”

You nodded before nearly throwing yourself from the desk chair and off of his lap. On your way back to his bed, you ripped your shirt and shorts off before throwing yourself on top of his comforter. Once on the bed, your panties and bra made a dramatic exit as well, sliding off of your legs and arms.

Armin rose from the chair and quickly ripped the headset from his head. With the force of throwing his headset, they unplugged from the computer, much to his friends’ disappointment. Armin walked towards you, taking his clothes off as well and letting them mingle with your own on the floor. He then joined you on the bed, pulling you against him in one swift move and kissing you passionately.

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

I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS. ❤️

»Anyone can become a God or a Devil. All it takes is for someone to claim that to be the truth.« - Eren Kruger

Works in Progress

1: Armin x Reader x Eren: Ruin the Friendship 

(Chapter 2 / 3) 

Current Word Count: 4.4k

You have a study date with Armin and find yourself in a bit of a pickle. You want him just as you had him the night before, but he seems a bit more distant than he normally is. And, right when you’re sure you’ve figured everything out, a big surprise comes knocking at your door - literally. Warnings: Slight Powerplay, Fingering, Vaginal Penetration, Cream pie

2: Jean x Reader: The Worst Wingman

(Chapter 3 / 3)

Current Word Count: 3.8k

After nearly 100 dates with random men from all over campus, you’re finally getting your happily ever after. You’ve found your family, a supportive friend group and wonderful boyfriend - it’s everything you’ve ever wanted from love and now it’s yours. 

It’s a wonderful and much awaited conclusion to a comfort story I always find my mind coming back to.