Bunnysuit-femboy - Really Not Feelin Up To It Right Now. Sorry.

My Obsessions

Currently:

Last Updated 07/19/2021

What I’m watching: 

Seraph of the End: Season 1, Episode 10

Tokyo Ghoul: Re: Season 1, Episode 4

What I’m reading: 

Nothing right now!

What I’m listening to: 

Anything Conan Gray!

Who I’m thinking about: 

Modern-day Rich Boy! Eren - imagine him taking you to his parents lake house in the mountains, and taking you out on his boat, and lying beside your already-sweaty body on the deck of his family’s speed boat, and kissing him back when he comes in, only making your bodies that much sweatier as things between you two get hotter.

Up Next:

What I’ll watching next: 

Probably Free!

What I’ll be reading next: 

Lots of fan fiction!

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.

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Last Updated 05/28/2021

The Witch

(Pieck x Reader) - Word Count: 3.7k

Creature: a woman who is supposed to have evil or wicked powers.

Warnings: Obsession, Fingering (Giving)

Quick Summary: a suspicious singing voice leads you to an old friend’s house, and you catch up with her. 

Extra Notes: Second day of Whore - O - Ween is here! Enjoy the season of the witch, lovies!

The rain and the fact that you had to walk in it should have been the first sign that maybe you shouldn’t be here. The next sign was the black cat that had crossed your path as you walked up the sidewalk towards the Finger family home. And, the last sign - the most obvious sign of all - was the voice singing in your mind, the voice was beautiful and soft and it sounded just like the girl from your Psychology 101 class, Pieck.

It was the singing that drew you towards the Finger family home. The voice even grew in volume the closer you got to the large house. The voice began as a low hum as you sat in your own apartment across town and was now stuck in a screeching high note that almost gave you a headache as you walked up the porch’s wet, wooden stairs.

Your whole body was shaking either from the cold rain drenching your clothes or from the voice suddenly stopping in your head, now leaving your body feeling a bit empty without it. The rain had covered your clothes and soaked completely through, now laying on your skin and causing chills to form all over your body. You wiped at your nose and face, trying to remove at least a little bit of the wetness off of your skin.

You stood on the Finger doormat, telling you a sweet message of Welcome though you didn’t feel so welcome here. The singing voice was the only thing making you feel you had a reason to be here - but without it, you now felt your entire body telling you to run away. But, you couldn’t move your legs, only your one arm as you reached forward and rang the doorbell beside the front door.

You immediately regretted ringing the doorbell. It was as if you were offering entrance to the house of the Devil himself. You once again felt the overwhelming desire to run far away from this house, just completely ding-dong-ditch the residents inside. You’d be okay with the embarrassment that would come afterwards but only if you got the fuck away from this place right this second, before somebody comes to the door and-

The door opened slowly to a disheveled black haired girl, but you recognized her immediately. You know her from your Psychology 101 class, you’ve seen her around campus, and you’ve heard her voice in your head since this afternoon. Pieck just stared at you standing on her front porch, obviously shocked and out of breath from running down the stairs as quickly as possible.

“You’re here,” Pieck said in an amazed whisper, “You’re actually here.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at Pieck to keep yourself from getting sick all over her front porch. Your stomach was flipping with nerves, or possibly hypothermia considering you were standing in drenched clothes whose coldness was seeping down to your bones. Either way, you knew you needed someplace warm, and if the Finger residence was the only place open then so be it - you couldn’t complain when you were desperate.

“I’m co-cold,” Your words stuttered out from behind your chattering teeth.

“Oh.” Pieck quickly moved out of the way, allowing you entrance into her home. “Come inside and warm up, I’m so sorry I kept you outside for so long - I just, I don’t know what I was thinking.” Pieck watched as you walked past her into her house, and immediately found the lit fireplace in the living room as if it were waiting for you. “I just, I guess I wasn’t really expecting you to be here.”

You sat on the ground in front of the fireplace, “Why not? You were calling for me.”

You knew you sounded ridiculous saying that out loud. You were sure Pieck was just as confused as you were because what the hell did you were calling for me even mean? You knew Pieck had to be confused, which is how you missed the look in her eyes, the look of realization and a sense of silent pride.

Pieck ignored your comment as she draped a blanket over your shoulders, and wrapped you up in the fuzziness. The blanket was thick and warmed you quicker than the fire in front of you could. It was as if the fabric of the blanket had been trapping the fireplace’s warmth and keeping it from you until now.

“Well,” Pieck said from behind and above you, “Do you want something to drink?”

“Do you have the blood of a deer on tap?” You giggled with your joke, unsure of where the words had come from. And, Pieck laughed as well, but her laugh was different from yours. Her giggle was uncomfortable and forced, as if she were only laughing to fill a silence that had grown between you two.

Even though the joke sat in the air for longer than a minute, Pieck never really responded. There was something weird about her behavior, she wasn’t her normal self tonight. This wasn’t the girl you met in your psychology class, it was as if you were talking to her clueless doppelgänger.

Maybe it was that you were intruding. Maybe this is how she reacts when a random girl she hasn’t talked to for months appears on her doorstep in the middle of a storm without any reason as to why she is there, and then rudely waits to be invited into her house. The whole situation is a little weird, so you really couldn’t blame her for not being normal.

“Pieck,” You said softly while keeping your eyes focused on the fire in front of you, “How have you been since I’ve last seen you?”

“How have I been?” Pieck spoke from where she stood in the kitchen behind you. “You mean since psych?”

You nodded slowly, “Yeah, it’s been awhile since I’ve last talked with you, so how have you been?”

“I’ve been fine.” Pieck made herself busy with a cup and pitcher of water in front of her. “I haven’t done much, really.”

Of course you didn’t know it, but Pieck’s words were the truest form of a lie. She had been doing a lot in your time apart, and she hadn’t been fine either. In the seven months since she’d last seen you in class, you had taken up every inch of Pieck’s mind, she couldn’t stop thinking about you in fact. Every second of every day had her wondering what you were doing, what classes you were taking, who you were talking to, and if you were talking about her.

Pieck’s curiosity eventually caught up with her, and she started to get obsessed with the idea of you. She found herself skipping classes to find out where your classes were. She memorized your schedule of the last semester, and would wait outside of your classes for you. She hoped to be noticed by you, maybe even given a friendly hello or a pity wave, but you never gave Pieck any of your time.

Eventually, your attention became Pieck’s goal. She was desperate to be seen, noticed, and liked by you. Following you to classes, befriending your friends, going to the same parties, being in the library at the same time - none of it helped her case, and it only made Pieck more desperate.

And, like many desperate women before Pieck, she turned to something, and someone, a bit more powerful.

She did her research, and a lot of it. She took her time in all of the local libraries she could find. She read as many old books she could find, and watched countless movies on anything that could help her. Pieck’s time and research was never in vain because she eventually found a way to win your affections and attention - she eventually found her saving grace.

It was written in an old book she found in a library nearly two hours from your shared campus. The book flew itself out at her, desperate for her attention the same way she had been desperate for yours. And once she opened the book, it was as if she knew exactly what page to flip to for her answers.

There was no real name to the thing that would help Pieck win you over, only instructions for her. The spell was moderately easy, just build a poppet of yarn, fluff, and sticks, and burn a candle and repeat some specific words - and it was done, you were all her’s.

Sure, Pieck didn’t believe the spell would actually work at first. In fact, she had been sitting in her own guilt and displeasure for the last week and a half. She felt guilty for even being so obsessed with the idea of you to go as far as casting some obscure spell to win your affections. And, she felt displeased that the spell never seemed to work. All the book said was to do the spell and wait for the sure results, but Pieck had major doubts until you showed up on her front porch five hours until midnight.

“But,” Pieck said awkwardly, “How have you been?”

You furrowed your eyebrows at the fire, “Oh, I’ve been good. I haven’t done much either, just going to classes and attempting to hold my GPA up.” You laughed weakly to yourself in a poor attempt of lightening the mood in the house. “But, it’s nice to see you again.”

“Yeah.” Pieck walked over to your side, and handed the water cup to you which you quickly set on the ground. “Why is that?”

You looked up at Pieck, “Why is it nice to see you again?”

“No. Why are you seeing me again?”

You quickly looked back to the fire, “I don’t think you’d understand if I told you.”

Pieck took a seat on the ground beside you. Her brown eyes were focused on you, piercing into your face from where she sat on your right. You tried to ignore her gaze, but it was like a deer trying to ignore the glare of bright headlights coming right at it.

“Tell me anyways,” Pieck said softly, “I’m really interested in what you have to say.”

You turned slowly to Pieck, and upon seeing her eyes, you almost wanted to confess the truth. You wanted to tell her about how you haven’t actually thought about her in months, you’ve seen her at parties and have ignored her to save yourself from an awkward conversation, you’ve even pretended like you hadn’t recognized her name when your friends brought her up during hangouts. But one day rainy day while you’re reading for your upcoming midterms, you start hearing humming and singing in your head which only stops when you’re facing her front door.

None of it makes sense, honestly. It sounds like some bizarre and desperate attempt at saving face. Like, you’re trying to come up with dumb lies in hopes she won’t notice how badly you wanted to be sitting beside her on the floor of her living room. You thought she would never believe the truth, so you instead lied to her.

“I was just wondering how you’ve been,” You said, “So, I thought I’d come over and see you since we haven’t talked in so long.”

Pieck tilted her head towards you, “And, how did you know where I live?”

The magic voice led me here.

“Intuition.” You smiled to yourself. “And, Reiner told me.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, Reiner had shown you this house before and pointed out that it belonged to his friend Pieck. The house was known in town as being the oldest, the creepiest, the most haunted with demonic spirits, and the best one to get Trick or Treat candy from. He pointed the place out and stated it belonged to the Fingers on your way to another friend’s party, and you had even pretended to not recognize the name once he said it.

“Oh,” Pieck sounded disappointed with just that one word, “That makes sense, he does know where I live. But, why did you decide to show up in the middle of a rainstorm? You could’ve waited until tomorrow to catch up with me, I think it’s supposed to be sunnier then.”

Pieck giggled at your desperation to see her, and you felt your face heat up with embarrassment. You didn’t even want to be here right now or ever, you didn’t care to ever see her again after your class together. But it was that damned voice’s fault, if it didn’t annoy you so much or if you were a tad bit stronger, you wouldn’t have been here making a complete fool out of yourself.

“Or,” Pieck continued with a smile, “You could’ve come earlier in the day. You chose the worst time actually, you just showed up right around sunset. You know, people are normally eating dinner around this time, so maybe send a text next time, alright?”

“Then, maybe I should go.” You aggressively pushed the blanket off of your shoulders, and the coldness from outside of it hit you immediately. A chill ran through your body, and you couldn’t keep your teeth from chattering as you spoke. “It-it’s late anyways, I-I should lea-leave.”

“No.” The word flew from Pieck’s mouth. That was the last thing she wanted, she loved that you were here and she was the only person you could talk to in this house. She had your undivided attention, and this was everything she had ever hoped for since the day she met you. “Please don’t leave, I’m sorry I was being so selfish.”

You turned to her with your nose wrinkled, “Are you sh-sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” Pieck picked up the blanket and thrusted it towards you. You took the blanket timidly, even mumbling a weak thank you. Pieck watched as you wrapped yourself back up in the blanket she chose for you, it made her smile. “I love having you here, it’s nice to see you again - no matter what time or what weather you decide to see me in.”

You laughed loudly, “Even five hours until midnight in the middle of a hurricane?”

“Yes,” Pieck said with a gentle smile, “Even then.”

You couldn’t take your eyes off of her. She was suddenly so much brighter than you ever remembered. In your shared psychology class, she was merely another college student working their ass off for a class they didn’t care for. She was nice - sure - but she seemed plain, mostly wore the color brown, and just never seemed worth your time.

But now, Pieck was a completely different person. She was still wearing brown which was unfortunate, but she was radiating energy like the damn sun. Her smile was intoxicating, and her eyes were looking through the deepest, darkest corners of your being. She was unbelievable, extraordinary, and everything you always imagined her not to be.

“Pieck,” You whispered into the quiet air between the both of you, “Why did you call me here?” The words fell from your lips without you wanting them to. You knew you would never say something like that if you were in control of your own mouth, but something took over your mind, and said the words for you.

Pieck was speechless, and instead stared at you with a wide mouth. Completely unlike you, she couldn’t get any words to come out of her mouth. She wanted to explain to you that she didn’t mean to, but that would be a lie - she completely meant to, and she was selfishly enjoying every moment of your time that you were giving her.

“I heard your voice.” You spoke without thinking properly. “You called me here, you made me come here, and so I came here.”

Pieck continued to stare at you without speaking. She wasn’t sure there was anything she could say. The spell had worked, and she had done the spell. She was too guilty to ever be forgiven by you.

“Why?” You moved without thinking as well as you pushed your hand out of the blanket and placed your palm gently on her cheek. “Why do you want me here so badly?”

Pieck’s breath hitched in her throat once she felt your touch. She closed her eyes softly as her greatest wish was suddenly coming true. She realized long ago that this desire for your attention was much more than a platonic feeling, she needed more from you - she needed everything you could give her, physically.

“What do you want from me?” You leaned closer to Pieck. “What do you want me to do for you?”

Pieck was quiet as she desperately waited for you to lean into her mouth. She wanted to taste you, to feel you, to make you want her the same way she has wanted you for months now. She desired you with every part of her being, and she felt herself melting under your long awaited touch.

“I need you to tell me.” You stopped only an inch from her mouth. “Speak for me, please.”

“I want you to kiss me.”

You almost grinned to yourself before leaning in, it was exactly what you were expecting her to say. You landed a soft peck on Pieck’s lips, and before you could completely move away from her, she was leaning back into you for more. You could feel her desperation for you through her lips, and that alone almost made you want her back - you always loved being desired.

Pieck pulled you into her, and you leaned into her desperate touches, always giving her more. She pulled your shoulder gently towards her, and you pushed the blanket off of your body. She jutted her chin into your shared kiss, and you moved onto your knees right in front of her. She pushed her hand under your shirt to feel the soft skin underneath, and you laid her down softly to the hardwood floor.

You laid on top of Pieck, kissing her passionately as her hands explored your body. She allowed her fingers to touch every inch of you that she had been desiring for months now. Pieck desperately grabbed at your shirt, and you took the hint easily. You sat back on Pieck’s thigh to let her pull the sweater over your head and toss it far away from both of your bodies.

Pieck admired your body with her eyes, making you feel a little uneasy from the amount of attention she was giving you. You tried to giggle to hide the embarrassment you were feeling, but Pieck didn’t notice, she instead ran her hands up your sides and then pulled you back into her for more kisses.

Pieck’s hands were a bit impatient against your body. She felt your skin quickly without a single thought or giving much time to any specific part of you. She was hasty and desperate, and it made you want to take your time with her. You wanted to give Pieck exactly what she wanted from you.

Your hands worked at your side, scrunching her brown dress to reveal more of her legs and hips. You pushed your fingers under the fabric, feeling over the side of her panties and dipping your fingers inside.

“What,” Pieck gasped against your mouth, “I don’t-”

You shushed Pieck, “Let me touch you, please?”

Pieck felt as if she could come from just those words and the gentle way you were touching her hip. She had wanted this for the longest time, and every time she imagined it, she always imagined herself on top. She supposed she always thought she’d be in control of the situation since she was the one who wanted it the most, but she actually prefered where you were leading it instead.

Pieck nodded frantically against your face, “Yes- yes, please, do whatever you want to me.”

“Wow.” You laughed to yourself. “That’s quite a request, but I’ll start with something you can actually handle, how about that?”

You didn’t notice how embarrassed Pieck got from your words, you were too busy focusing on her body instead. You moved your fingers deeper into her panties, and just a simple touch of her sensitive skin was enough to make her buck her hips up into thigh.

Pieck removed her lips from yours, wanting to take in every touch you offered her. She felt as you gently rubbed at her clit on your way to her entrance. Every second you spent in her panties had her desperately moaning for more, and getting wetter which was only making it easier for what you wanted to do to her.

You pushed a single finger into her entrance, feeling the way her walls tightened around that one body part. It was truly amazing how into this moment she could be, she was practically frozen from joy and you had hardly touched her. It was as if she could barely believe everything was happening even while it definitely was happening.

You pushed a second finger into her, interested to see how the girl would react. She dug her nails into your back from the new touch, desperate to hold onto something solid when she was feeling like liquid underneath you. Her body was taken over by pleasure as you thrusted your fingers into her, and even moved your hips with each movement.

Pieck didn’t need much of anything from you to orgasm - Hell, she’d turn into an ocean if you just winked in her direction. You had only been a dream to her for so long, and this moment was so much better than anything she could’ve imagined. She wasn’t even surprised when her body released its entire build up only a few minutes into the event.

You weren’t sure why you ignored Pieck’s presence for so long. As she looked at you like you held the moon every night, you realized maybe she wasn’t someone you had overlooked on purpose. You were always afraid of what feelings arose when you caught her staring at you across the classroom, when she laughed a little too hard at your jokes, and when her name was brought up amongst your friends. Maybe ignoring her wasn’t a good idea all of these months because you felt like maybe you wanted this just as much as she did, or maybe even more.

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.

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

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

Watcher - Stalker

(Armin x Reader) - Word Count: 2.2k

Creature: a person who harasses or persecutes someone with unwanted and obsessive attention

Warnings: Cunnilingus, Panty Raiding

Extra Notes: Happy Halloween Eve! One more day left!

You had never thought much about the boy who lived in the apartment next to yours. He always seemed to be out in the hallway whenever you were; running into you on your way to work, on your way out with friends, on your way to the store, he was always there. You had assumed he had the same schedule as you, coincidentally always in your way and always by your side.

You had become friends with the boy who lived in the apartment next to yours, Armin. He was really nice, and the both of you seemed to have a lot in common with each other. He has a brother - same as you, he was an English major in college - same as you, his favorite musicians are Taylor Swift and Lorde - strangely, same as you. It never bothered you how much you had in common with him, in fact you had never thought about it for longer than a minute before.

The excessive amounts of common interests between you and Armin had actually helped your friendship with him. When you first met him, he seemed standoffish, awkward, maybe even a little bit weird, but after finding out your shared interest in tv shows, suddenly he was a whole new person.

He’d even stop over at your door some nights when he had made too many leftovers of whatever he had made himself for dinner. He’d stay for conversation and to hear a review of the food he gave you. He’d step inside of your apartment, but never past the kitchen, only being able to view the other rooms. He never stayed longer than an hour, and you never felt yourself wishing he’d stay longer.

So, it was no surprise to you to hear a soft knock on the door and to find Armin on the other side. He held a familiar plate of food in one hand and a DVD in the other. You scanned the items and then looked up at him, your eyebrows slightly knitted together.

“What,” You asked Armin slowly, “What’s all of this for?”

Armin tilted his head at you, a small smile appearing on his lips, “No hello?”

“Hi, Armin.” You sighed. “Now, answer what all of this is?”

“Hi, and all of this is a movie night, and I brought you some curry. Now, can I come inside?”

You looked over your shoulder at your apartment. It was slightly dirty from the past few days of lazy nights after work. Your clothes were spewed about and you could even see some bras and panties lying on your living room floor right outside of the bedroom door. You knew they’d be far enough out of the way that Armin wouldn’t see them, so why the hell not?

Why not let him in? It’s just one movie night.

You shifted your body so you weren’t blocking your apartment from Armin anymore. You tilted your head towards the living room, and spoke one demanding sentence to your neighbor, a soft smile on your lips.

“Alright,” You said, “Come inside, and you better heat that food up for me while I start the movie.” Armin walked by you and into the kitchen, nodding in agreement to your request. “And, wait, what movie even is that?”

Armin turned around to you, standing beside the microwave. “27 Dresses, you told me you had never seen it before.”

“How did you remember that?” You furrowed your eyebrows deeply. “I said that months ago, I think I said that last Christmas even.”

Armin shrugged, “I have a good memory.”

You brushed his comment off, and the whole conversation in fact. You had to admit it was refreshing how nice Armin is to you; he always bring you food, he brings you gifts, he even brought you flowers in the past - he may have stopped once he realized how creeped out you were to see him on the other side of your door holding a full bouquet of flowers. But still, it was the thought that counts.

You always kind of assumed your neighbor had a little crush on you considering all that he’s done. You weren’t sure you felt the same, but you were sure that you liked his attention and the way he looked at you in the hallway when he ran into you. He looked at you like you were a sunset, you were bright and beautiful and a sight he doesn’t normally have the luxury of seeing.

Which isn’t entirely true considering he’s always in the hallway at the same time as you are.

You put the DVD into the disc drive of your laptop and plugged your laptop into the tv. You quickly skipped through the previews, not feeling particularly in the mood to sit through trailers of movies from before 2012. By the time you were done setting up the movie, Armin was already on the couch behind you, watching you as you bent over your laptop.

You felt a bit awkward by your neighbor’s curious eyes stuck on your body. He always seemed to stare a little too hard at your body, and you supposed being bent over right in front of him was like showing a dog a treat.

You rubbed your now sweaty hands against your sweatpants, trying to wipe away the nerves of having Armin inside of your apartment. You weren’t sure if these nerves were coming from being close to your neighbor because you’re afraid of him or because you’re attracted to him. Being around Armin was a mess of confusing feelings.

You walked around your coffee table and took a seat beside Armin on the couch. Once you were sitting, you noticed Armin scoot the tiniest bit closer to you. His knee pressed against your knee, and you could feel his eyes staring at the side of your face, but you chose to ignore him and watch the beginning of the movie instead. That was until ignoring him was no longer an option, he leaned in close and spoke to you over the dialogue of the movie.

“So,” Armin said, “I was at this new cafe the other day - it’s right up the street - I think you should give it a try sometime, it’s really good. I tried their blueberry crumble muffins, and it was fantastic.”

You turned to him, “Do you mean the cafe called The Big Wave?”

“Yes!”

“I went there the other day.” You turned your body towards your neighbor, now completely disregarding the movie on the screen. “I had the pumpkin muffin, but I was gonna try the blueberry one if they didn’t sell out before I got there!”

“That’s insane,” Armin said but there seemed to be some emotion absent in his voice, “I really wanted to try the pumpkin muffin too, but decided against it.” Armin glanced back at the tv, but then met your eyes once again. “Maybe sometime we could - if you wanted to, of course - we could go to the cafe together, and try each other’s muffins.”

Your eyebrows shot up, “Try what?”

You giggled as Armin’s face flushed with red and he shook his head frnatically, “Oh no no, I swear I didn’t mean it like that, oh my god.”

“It’s fine, Armin.” You smiled at him as you gently placed your hand on his knee. “I’d love to go to the cafe with you sometime-” There was a moment of silence before you grinned and spoke again- “and we can try each other’s muffins.”

Armin placed his hand on top of your own, attempting to show you physically how happy he was to be in your living room with you, and to have you sitting on the couch right beside him. You were both now completely ignoring the movie, just staring gracefully into each other’s eyes. You always sort of knew a moment like this would arise with your neighbor eventually, he gave you too much attention and you really liked basking in that attention. You were sure if you ever gave him the chance, you’d make him the happiest man on Earth by being his girlfriend, and you’d be constantly spoiled.

The whole relationship looked like a win-win situation from the outside.

“Armin,” You whispered, but he quickly interrupted whatever you were planning on saying by pressing his lips into your lips. You let him kiss you, and you even kissed him back slightly. It felt good to feel wanted and Armin made you feel entirely desired just by the way he tightened his grip on your hand, as if he were in disbelief that this was really happening - so much so that he had to hold onto you as proof, hoping you wouldn’t fade away into his imagination.

Armin moved his lips away from yours, resting his forehead against your own, “I’m so sorry, I- I shouldn’t have-”

“No,” You said while leaning your lips closer to his, “But, you can. You can kiss me, I want you to.”

Armin nodded slightly before leaning back into your shared kiss. He kissed you more passionately now, his lips parted and you even felt the gentle tickle of his soft tongue against your lips. Despite the thousands of times he had imagined kissing you, he never imagined you being so submissive to his touch. You let him do whatever he wanted with your lips and your body, you didn’t mind his hands groping your hips and chest.

“Can-” Armin whispered into your mouth- “Can I go down on you?” After the question was in the air, his face scrunched up with awkwardness. He shook his head gently, apologizing three times before you interrupted him.

“Sure.” You weren’t sure where these words were coming from. You never really felt any attraction towards your neighbor other than mentally accepting that he is conventionally attractive. He wasn’t even your type and his crush weirded you out more than it flattered you. But, to be honest, you haven’t had somebody on top of you in months and if this was your only option at the moment, then you were willing to make do with this opportunity.

You laid down for Armin, your head on the yellow decorative pillows on your couch. He sat between your legs as he smoothly pulled your sweatpants off of your legs. You thought he may explode seeing you in front of him like this, his face and neck was a concerning red color, you honestly weren’t sure he was even breathing at the moment.

Armin started at your knee and slowly kissed down your legs. You watched him curiously as he made his way down to your panties. It was ironic for you to see him like this, acting like these kisses were teasing you when you could tell they were just making him more needy.

Your neighbor left one soft kiss on your clit through your panties, and the sudden feeling caused your hips to jolt forward. He was proud of this, and continued, passionately and slightly rushed, but it felt good. You liked the way he made out with your clit through the fabric, but you honestly preferred it with your panties on the ground beside the couch.

It was like he knew nobody had ever done this for you before. After all of the hookups you brought home, all of the dates that ended here, not even one of them went down on you. And, even if they had, you weren’t sure they would’ve ever been this good at it, you were certain Armin must’ve done this for thousands of people considering how magical this felt for you.

You brought your hand to the back of Armin’s bright blonde hair, gripping onto the strands as he sucked on your clit. Choked sounds came from your mouth, and you weren’t completely sure if they were supposed to be moans or gasps - they were somewhere in between.

You weren’t surprised by how quickly Armin tongue had gotten you close to finishing. This feeling felt better than anything your own fingers had done to your body in the past, and you really hoped you could recreate someday with a toy. You felt as if you were floating when you tightened your fingers on Armin’s hair, trying to let him know you were close.

And, strangely enough, you could tell he knew. He didn’t need to hear you say it, he knew you were coming on his tongue. He continued the same move that had gotten you close until your body vibrated with pleasure. You groaned so loud, you thought maybe the people could hear you outside, even the people driving in their cars with their windows rolled up.

Armin and you didn’t speak much after the moment had passed. He said he didn’t want anything in return, and you didn’t cuddle him, but you did hold his hand gently under the blanket you shared. You had put your sweatpants back on once the movie’s credits were rolling and you put the remaining curry in the fridge as he gathered his things.

He left your apartment quickly, no kiss, one goodbye, and one hug - and then he was gone. The door shut behind him and you thought this would be the perfect moment to pick up some of your dirty clothes from the living room floor. You could’ve sworn your panties had landed beside the couch, but you decided maybe they had been kicked underneath. You decided not to investigate too hard, Armin always struck you as a weird guy but a panty snatcher was a bit too far, even for him.

If you knew the truth about him, you’d never want him back in your apartment again, you’d probably even move apartments as soon as humanly possible. But, losing that feeling that he gave you between your legs wasn’t worth it in your head, he could steal all of the panties he wanted from you just so long as he made you feel that good again.

Ruin the Friendship - S.O.S.

(Chapter 1 / 3)

Armin x Reader x Eren

Word Count: 4.0k

Warnings: mutual masturbation, phone sex

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

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

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

But, nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Armin.

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

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

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

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

“No,” You lied.

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

“No,” You lied again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrugged, “Yeah, I’m good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just don’t be drunk tomorrow, okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Armin sighed, “Masturbate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, you are-”

“I’m not!”

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

Armin sighed, “I’ve had sex before.”

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

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

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

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

“Sometimes,” Armin answers slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

“What kind of stuff?”

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

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

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

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

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

Armin closed his eyes, “Sometimes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded your head, “Definitely.”

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

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

“Just, things.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cool.”

“Yeah.”

Armin took a quick breath, “Goodbye?”

“Bye.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eren’s text message read, You called?

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

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

Eren answered a minute later, Oh, really?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next Chapter

The Demon

(Armin x Reader) - Word Count: 3.7k

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

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

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

Extra Notes: 2 more days until Halloween!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But, nothing. You were met with absolutely nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded slowly, “Okay, My Lord.”

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

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

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

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

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

Belial perked a single eyebrow, “Oh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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