Slumber Party

Future Works

Reader x Armin: Two Birds

 (One Shot)

You’re desperate to lose your virginity so you go to the only other person you know still has their virginity as well. After finally having sex with your best friend, you feel yourself wanting more… Not love - ew, gross - but wanting him inside of you indefinitely, to slowly feel him get better at giving it to you, and to slowly feel yourself get better at taking him. Practice makes perfect, so you’re trying to practice as much as possible. Warnings: TBD

Jean x Reader: Rabbit Hearted

(One Shot)

After being unintentionally excluded from your friend group on a trip to an amusement park, you find solace in a mysterious stranger who showed up at exactly the right time. He’s attractive, he’s nice, and he loves riding alongside you on every single ride. Notes: SFW.

Eren x Reader: Rock the Boat

(One Shot)

Hanging out on a boat for the afternoon seemed a safe amount of fun: you’d get to see the lake your friends always talk about, you’d get to watch your friends splash each other around you, and you’d get to jump off of the deck of a speedboat. But, you shouldn’t have assumed you would be so comfortable with seeing Eren practically nude, and that he’d be able to keep his hands off of you. Warnings: TBD

Last Updated 03/08/22

Bite - Vampire pt.2

(Sasha x Reader) - Word Count: 2.3k

Creature: a corpse supposed, in European folklore, to leave its grave at night to drink the blood of the living by biting their necks with long pointed canine teeth

Warnings: Fingering, Descriptions of Trauma, Nonconsensual Biting

Extra Notes: Later post than normal today, but day 3/5 and two more days until Halloween! Also, check out last year’s part one right here

It was hard for you to forget what had happened at the club the last time you were here. You tried not to think about it the past year, only allowing yourself to remember it for a second before pushing it back down. But when you saw Sasha in the cafe, you couldn’t ignore the memories anymore - you remembered her, and you remembered what she is.

She had confidently walked up to you this morning, bringing you a coffee and striking up a conversation. At first, you wished you could pretend to not recognize her, to thank her for the coffee and then go about your day never having to remember that boy with the long hair and that horrible place with those horrible creatures. You wanted to cut her off in the middle of her loud and exhausting attempt to catch up with you, as if you were old friends, but you soon realized she wasn’t doing this to be nice, she wanted to use you for something.

She tried to dance around the truth, but you could see through her facade. You could see how nervously she glanced around the room and how fidgety her fingers were on the side of her coffee cup. You waited for the shoe to drop, furrowing your eyebrows and leaning closer to her with every minute of useless information she used to sway your mind. Right when you had thought that maybe you were wrong and she really was being nice, that’s when it happened.

She admitted to you why she was here.

She wanted you to go back to the club tonight.

You refused immediately and persistently, but now that you think of it, it didn’t take a lot of convincing to get you here. You said no, she said please, you said maybe, she said please, and now you’re standing in line on a cold night in late October, wondering how the hell you allowed yourself to be put back in this situation.

You still had nightmares about that boy’s teeth, and how much it ached to feel your blood being sucked out of your body. You thought you were going to die that night, you had put your life in the hands of a murderer, and you thought that that would be the last mistake you’d ever make.

You had spent the last year trying to mend your brain back to the way it was before that night. You seeked professional help, ignored Mikasa’s many, many texts about going back with her and how much he missed you. And, you decided that that was a mistake you had made and you would never make it again.

But boy were you wrong - you made the mistake again.

And now you’re back at this damned club tonight.

Your body shook as you waited for this line to move even an inch, but it was like nobody was being let into the club at all. You had forgotten how exclusive Freedom was with who’s allowed to enter, and you raked your brain for some sort of memory of what could get you out of the cold faster, it was beginning to make goosebumps stand up on your bare legs. Mikasa had had something that made her presentable to the bouncer, some sort of clothing item-

“Here you go,” You heard Sasha’s sweet voice and felt her cold hands press a piece of fabric to your shoulders before seeing her standing beside you.

“Uhm, thank you.” You looked down and saw a red scarf hanging from your shoulders, and Sasha’s hand gently caressing your arm. She guided you through the line, ignoring the snarky comments made by the obviously upset college students waiting in line. “How did you know I was getting cold?”

Sasha grinned at you, “This isn’t for you, it’s for him.” She turned to the bouncer and winked at him as he let the both of you pass. “He needs to see that you’re-” She took a moment to think through her words- “Not like the others.”

You ignored Sasha’s explanation and walked with her through the club. It looked just as you remember it; the LED lights, the dancing people, the red scarves discarded to the floor.

You felt yourself stubbornly stomp your feet, halting you and Sasha’s journey to their normal room. You can’t go back into that room, it took you a year for you to feel okay and now she’s restarting all of your process. You feel like she’s robbing you of a normal life, a normal mental state, a normal fucking experience as a college student.

“I can’t,” Your voice cracked as you spoke, finally feeling the tears streaming down your cheeks and the familiar weight of these memories on your shoulders, “I can’t go back there, I can’t stand to be there on that damn couch and to see that asshole again. He-he ruined my life.”

“Okay, okay.” Sasha looked genuinely distressed, rubbing her hands up and down your arms while she held you at arms length from herself. “We won’t, fuck Eren, you don’t have to see him ever again if you don’t want to.”

Eren, that was his name, you had honestly forgotten.

You looked at Sasha through blurry vision, “You’re sure?”

“Of course.” Sasha smiled, and weirdly enough, you felt safe.

Sasha led you quietly through the loud club. You passed through people and up close, you could see the horrendous sight that was Freedom. The regulars of the club were close to their counterparts, kissing their necks passionately while the regular held them to their bodies in a tight hug - or that’s what it would look like to somebody who had never been here before, but you knew better. You knew there was no kissing involved with these couples, it was all biting and sucking.

You felt bad for the regulars who had gotten stuck in this cycle and were constantly being used as blood bags. You were almost exactly like them, but you got out while you still could. You pitied the people like Mikasa, and how desperately she needed to be here every week, craving the feeling of her blood being sucked out of her body and the feeling of being needed, desired, and cared for.

These creatures were smart, they knew what made mortals tick. They knew mortals desired money, love, and compassion, so that’s what they got. The mortals came here every week, meeting up with the same people, going through the same routine; they got gifts, they felt loved, they were taken care of with an endlessly supply of drinks and food all night long in exchange for one thing - their blood.

It must seem like an easy exchange in some of their heads. It’s only blood to them, but it wasn’t only blood to you, you had changed your mind on the whole matter. You knew if you were to ever be in that same position again, you’d have to hear a promise of loyalty for you in order to feel completely safe giving yourself away like that.

“Okay,” Sasha finally spoke after guiding you to a smaller alcove hidden behind a red curtain on the far right wall of the dancefloor. “Here we are, you can put your purse anywhere, we’ll just be visitors for the night. I’m honestly not interested in all of the normal happenings of this place, I just want to get to know you tonight, okay?”

You furrowed your eyebrows suspiciously, “Okay.”

You took a quick mental note of the fact that Sasha didn’t close the curtain to hide the alcove once you had both sat down. And, you took a second quick mental note of how close Sasha sat to you once she had found a comfortable spot on the booth. She was close enough to touch, and close enough to you that the candlelight on the table helped you see every little detail of her face; her brown eyes that were slightly bloodshot, brown hair falling over her dangling over her forehead, and a few small freckles splattered across her nose and cheeks.

You had never been this close to her before, it made your heart pound in your chest; and you were sure she heard your heart rate too considering she even glanced down at your chest for a second before grinning up at you.

“Do I make you nervous?” Sasha asked with one slightly raised eyebrow.

You had to admit that yes, she did make you nervous. Her eyes were piercing into your soul so deeply you felt as if she could read your every emotion. If you didn’t already know what Sasha was, then you’d be surprised by the slightly sharper teeth replacing the spot where a normal person’s canines would be. Last time, and the only time, you had seen her using her teeth on a mortal, you had mistaken it for passionate kisses instead of the gruesome truth.

“No,” You lied smoothly, but she still didn’t believe you.

Sasha raised her eyebrows at you, “I could if you wanted me to.”

“Why would I want you to make me nervous?” You giggled breathily in the small space between you and Sasha’s faces. “That doesn’t sound pleasant at all.”

“It could be pleasant, if you wanted it to be.”

Your laughter echoed off of the walls of the small alcove, “You’re ridiculous!”

“Ridiculously-” Sasha paused for a moment, piquing your interest and giving herself time to think of a clever way of ending her sentence- “Interested in kissing you right now, if you wanted me to, of course.”

Your heart pounded a little bit quicker against your chest, and you tried to ignore Sasha’s gentle grin once she heard the rapid beating. Your mouth felt dry and your body felt hot and if you were just a little bit stupider, you were sure you’d be completely comfortable being in the worst place on earth with the sweetest girl on earth. But, you unfortunately knew better and wouldn’t allow yourself to be completely enamored by the girl in front of you.

But, you supposed it wouldn’t hurt to let her kiss you just this once.

You nodded, “You can, I want you to.”

Sasha gently caressed her thumb across your cheekbone until she leaned in and lightly pressed her lips against your own. She was so soft; her skin, her lips, her touch, she kissed you as if you were delicate, you felt like glass in her hands.

She must’ve noticed how deeply you enjoyed her kisses because she began to deepen them. Sasha opened her mouth with each kiss, inviting you to do the same and welcome her tongue into your mouth. You moaned around her tongue, your lips sucking on it slightly before separating and going back in.

The moment between you two moved quickly and slowly at the same time. You felt as if her hand had suddenly teleported to your thighs, creeping under the skirt of your dress. And at the same time, you felt every moment in between; her one hand on the back of your neck and her other hand making its way down from your hip to the outside of your thigh and then underneath the skirt of your dress.

Her fingers teased your clit from the other side of your panties, only touching you lightly and then moving away and then coming back and then moving away. The repetition drove you insane, you instantly became desperate. To save some face, you decided not to say anything and instead show her how badly you wanted more.

You brought your hand down to Sasha’s hand, curling your fingers gently over her wrist. After a few moments, you tightened your grip on her wrist and brought her fingers closer. You gasped from the sudden pressure as Sasha separated from your lips, whispering into your mouth.

“If you wanted me to touch you more, you could’ve just asked.” Sasha’s voice sounded raspier than normal, it sounded like she might have been losing her breath from the kisses as well. “You’re so desperate for me.”

You smiled as her fingers slowly found their way past your panties, “Shut up,” Your voice came out breathily, “And just touch me already.”

Sasha’s fingers gently caressed your entrance and then swooped back up to your clit, using your slick to move around your clit more smoothly. The feeling caused you to arch your back, pressing your body closer to her body.

You now sloppily kissed Sasha, her tongue moving in and out of your mouth and swallowing your moans. You could hear her moaning against your mouth, she was so deeply invested in your pleasure, you could’ve sworn she was close to coming too. Her lips slowly moved from your lips and down to your overly sensitive neck.

With your body convulsing from pleasure, you suddenly became aware of the unclosed curtain that should be blocking you and Sasha from the outside world if she had closed it. At first, you were unsure of why she’d even leave it open - assuming it wasn’t an accident - but now you were sure.

Of course it wasn't an accident because while your body exploded with pleasure, you made eye contact with the club members, and more specifically a pair of very curious emerald eyes. You recognized him immediately considering he had haunted your nightmares consistently for the last year.

Your fingers gripped into Sasha’s back from desperation, pleasure, and fear. You wanted to tell her who you can see staring at you from afar with a cocky grin plastered on his face. Just as the words were about to reach your lips, you felt a sharp pain pierce through the sensitive skin of your neck, and gasped as you once again felt your blood being sucked from your body.

Imagine spending your time writing about fucking anime characters, lonely whore

see THIS is a valid argument. i can respect this 😭

Masterlist

Shows:

Attack on Titan

Armin Arlert

Fics:

Ruin the Friendship (Armin x Reader x Eren)

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

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

One Shots:

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

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

Eren Yeager

Fics:

Ruin the Friendship (Armin x Reader x Eren)

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

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

One Shots:

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

Jean Kirstein

Fics:

The Worst Wingman (Jean x Reader)

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

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

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

Sasha Braus

One Shots:

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

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

Holiday Specials:

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

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

The Incubus

(Connie x Reader) - Word Count: 3.8k

Creature: a male demon believed to have sexual intercourse with (sleeping) women.

Warnings: Cherry Picking, Corruption Kink, Unprotected Sex, Wet Dream

Quick Summary: when your parents aren’t home, you invite your best friend over for a movie night.

Extra Notes: Third day of Whore - O - Ween and only four more to go until Halloween!

Connie understood girls like you. He understood how desperately you pushed this good girl facade in hopes of never being read clearly. He understood how you helplessly clung to the bottom of your skirt not wanting the bareness of your thighs to give away the obvious truth. He understood how you kept your voice high and your giggles light to hide the real you. Connie understood you because he’s met plenty of different versions of you - what can he say, acting this way was common for virgins.

And Connie knew virgins better than he knew anything else. He’s been living on this Earth for centuries. He’s watched empires rise and fall, political role models be overthrown, and wars captivate an entire nation and then be ended with a big bang. He knew the darkest secrets of important bloodlines, he knew war strategies to bring down any country, and he knew the fads and trends by year - but he knew virgins the best.

That’s why you were just so easy to trick, you unintentionally played right into his hand. When he said jump, you took a leap. When he said let’s hang out sometime, you immediately made plans and begged him to go through with them. When he said how about I come over tonight, you thanked every god that could hear you that your parents wouldn’t be home tonight and didn’t have to know that you were having a guy over.

It’s not like anything was going to happen anyways, you were sure of it. Connie was much too sweet to try anything with you. He always held your books on your way to class if your arms got too tired. He always kept snacks in his backpack and would sneak them into your hands at the back of the classroom. He always made you smile when you were sad and held you if you wanted to cry. Connie was just too sweet to do anything immoral.

But that didn’t stop you from getting ready like he may. You chose your most scandalous panties, the pair you only bought on a dare - a pair of black panties that was made with sheer fabric to allow viewers to see through to what was underneath. You doused yourself in perfume, a sweet scent that had allured men to you in the past. You felt guilty acting like something was going to happen with Connie, and that guilt only made you want it more.

You nearly fell down the stairs as you ran to the front door when the doorbell rang. You stumbled on the second to last step and ran into the door sideways in a fit of adrenaline. You quickly straightened up and fixed your messed up hair before opening the door for your guest.

“Hello,” You said to Connie who stood on your front porch, “You brought-?”

“Cookies,” Connie said with a smile as he thrusted them towards you, “You said you like chocolate chip, right?”

“Yes, yes - I do, thank you!” You grabbed the container of cookies from Connie’s hands, your fingertips gently caressing over the rough skin of his fingers. You tried to hide your excitement from the touch, keeping your gasp to a whisper and begging your heart to stop beating so quickly.

Connie caught the gasp despite your desire to hold it back. All it took was one touch - just one tap of fingers to fingers - and he had you hypnotized. You could hardly breathe around your quickly beating heart and your lungs felt like they were filling with cement. Despite the obstacles, you still managed to mumble something out to Connie.

“Thanks,” You said quickly under your breath as you led him into the kitchen just two rooms away.

“Yeah.” Connie followed behind you, looking around the house as he walked through the hallway. “I don’t normally bake, but I thought you’d like some cookies - so, I just looked up a recipe and started making them. They might not be good, but I tried really hard and I put a lot of work into them and I think I made a really good dough to chocolate chip ratio-”

“Connie,” You said harshly to grab his wandering attention as you turned around to him in the entrance of the kitchen, “They’re perfect, and I’m sure they have a perfect dough to chocolate chip ratio.”

Connie fought his smile, but it still spread across his cheeks, “Thank you.”

It always amazed Connie just how quickly you could gain your own confidence if somebody else’s confidence was wavering. You could erase all shyness from your persona - maybe even become a different person entirely - if it meant you could help somebody else. It was his favorite thing about you, he could feign a lack of confidence all day long if it meant you’d make him feel better afterwards.

Your eyes lingered on Connie’s face for a moment too long. You watched as his hazel eyes delicately looked you over. His glance started on your face, taking in the sight of your own eyes before moving down to your mouth and lastly to your body. That last movement of his eyes was what caused you to kill the contact - you looked away quickly, trying to hide the embarrassment that now pumped through your veins.

“So,” You said as you placed the cookies onto the kitchen counter, “Do you want to watch a movie or we could-?”

“Yes,” Connie answered much too quickly, “If you want to, of course.”

You were taken aback by Connie’s enthusiasm. Why did he seem like he wanted to watch a movie so badly? Was watching a movie some kind of innuendo that you didn’t understand? You wished you knew more about the way Connie thought, or even boys in general - you were sure that kind of information could save you from embarrassing moments you were currently living through.

“Yeah,” You said warily, squinting your eyes at Connie, “I want to.”

Connie smiled wide, “Good, are we staying in the living room - I’m assuming?”

Connie knew virgins better than he knew anything else. He knew virgins craved to be touched more than anybody who had already been touched. He knew virgins acted sweet and innocent to hide their true intentions. And, he knew virgins loved to invite people they were interested over only when their families weren’t home to interrupt things - especially if they didn’t want to be virgins anymore.

He knew from the second he walked onto the property that you were the only one here at the moment. He noticed there was no other car parked in the driveway - apart from your own car and his. He noticed the quiet in the house when he first stepped in, not even hearing a cat or dog run around upstairs. And, he noticed just how frantically you looked around, as if you were afraid one of your family members could come home at any second, and see what you were trying to do with this boy by inviting him over to an empty house.

He knew nobody else in the house equals staying in the living room - it always equals staying in the living room. Connie assumed it’s because there’s something more open about the living room. The living room has accessible windows, it has open entryways, it has people watching from the tv screen. To Connie, people who are willing to fuck in the living room are willing to fuck practically anywhere.

“Yeah,” You said slowly, “We can stay in the living room.”

Perfect. That was exactly what he wanted to hear. Now, he knows for a fact that your family was absent from the house. And now, he knows for a fact that his long awaited plan was finally going to happen. He had waited for months, pretending to be some timid, sweet boy with no ulterior motives - when in reality, he was just waiting for the moment you’d give yourself to him.

That’s just what he did. He’s done it for centuries with pretty little virgins like you. Simply because he enjoyed virgins the most, it’s why he learned so much about them. It’s why he carried their books, why he walked them to class, and brought them homemade gooey little cookies - all to get into their pants.

It was honestly a game at this point: how many days will have to go by until the virgin’s legs are strung across your neck? And, the second game that comes right after the first one’s over is just as fun: how many hours until you’re completely out of her life and as far away as possible?

“Great, race you there.” Before you had a moment to process his request, he was already around the corner and out of sight.

“Connie,” You said with a hint of curiosity in your tone.

“It was a race,” Connie called from the other room as you slowly made your way into the living room, “And, you majorly lost.”

You stood in the doorway of the living room. Connie made himself comfortable on the couch by the wall, spreading his legs out over the remaining two cushions. His body was taking up the whole couch which left the second couch beside you free.

“Well,” You said, “You didn’t give me a warning - you’re supposed to say 3, 2, 1, GO! That’s just good sportsmanship, Connie.”

God, he loved the way you said his name and just how often you did it.

Connie watched you across the room. He watched you intently as you stood there with your hip jutting out. And, he even watched as you walked towards the couch he wasn’t completely colonizing. You walked around the sofa to your left, about to sit down when Connie quickly yelled for you.

“No!” Connie sat up on the couch, reaching towards you. “Don’t sit the whole way over there, sit over here with me!”

You raised your eyebrows at him, “Why does it matter?”

“I just,” Connie said as he glanced awkwardly around the room, “I just know I’ll miss you too much if you sit over there.”

His sentence hit you in a very good yet very bad way. You supposed it was good to know your face could heat up from one comment and that your heart could pound in your chest that quickly - and it even amazed you that he couldn’t hear it from across the room. And, you knew it was bad to feel this way for a close friend of yours and it was even worse to jump at the opportunity to sit on a couch beside him inside of an empty house.

To prevent any argument, you walked over to Connie’s couch to join him. He moved his legs for you, slowly bringing his knees to his chest before stretching his legs out again once you had sat down beside him. Connie’s legs were laying on your lap, his calves trapping you to the couch cushion below - you didn’t really hate the extra weight his body gave to your body, and in a strange way, you kind of liked it.

Connie excitedly picked the movie you both were going to watch for the night - and honestly, his choice surprised you. You assumed maybe he’d decide on a horror movie to frighten you enough to jump right into his arms and him to take that opportunity to jump right into your pants. And, you assumed maybe he’d decide on a movie with a lot of sex scenes as a poor attempt to get you in the mood. But instead, sweet and reliable Connie chose a romantic comedy.

You expected Connie to be the kind of guy to call those types of movies “chick flicks” and write them off completely. And, part of you wasn’t sure if he chose the movie because he wanted to watch it or because he thought you would want to. But, either way, you enjoyed the movie and so did Connie.

As the movie was coming to an end, you felt yourself growing tired. Both from the predictable plotline and the moon rising ever so steadily outside of the windows around you. You let your eyes gently close, and in an attempt not to fall onto Connie, he offered himself to you - opening the space beside him for you to join. And you - either the part of you who was tired and desperate to fall asleep or the part of you that was just desperate for him - took the spot almost immediately after the offer was in the air.

You cuddled up close to him, feeling his warm arms wrap around your body and his hot breath decorate the back of your neck. You fell asleep to the rhythm of his chest rising and falling against your back. It was a comfortable sleep - dreamless and warm - and only a few minutes after falling into deep sleep, you were suddenly awoken by aggressive shaking by your side.

“Connie,” You mumbled hazily into the now dark living room, “Connie, wake up.”

Connie mumbled in his sleep, his body shaking vigorously in the small space between you and the back of the couch. You tried to listen to what he was saying - or, more like what he was trying to say - but you couldn’t understand a single word. You thought maybe your mind was still groggy from the sleep or maybe he was speaking an entirely different language.

“Connie,” You whispered more clearly this time, trying to wake him up, “Wake up, you’re having a nightmare.”

Or at least you were assuming he was having a nightmare.

“Wake up-”

Connie woke up suddenly, causing you to jump back from him. Connie’s hazel eyes suddenly took you in, widening at the close sight of you. And, neither of you could disagree with one fact - it was nice being this close to each other, to be close enough to see every inch of the other features and close enough to kiss.

Your head was still heavy from your own lack of sleep and having to wake him up didn’t help shake any wakefulness into you at all. You wondered why you felt so hazy despite being wide awake, it felt as if everything surrounding you was a whole realm away from you. And, the strangest part was that Connie didn’t feel fake, he was the realest thing around you.

“Hi,” Connie whispered softly into the inch between your faces, “Or, should I say good morning?”

You smiled, “No, it’s not even morning yet - it’s still dark outside.”

“Right.” Connie grinned at you. “Good night.”

You giggled breathlessly into the space - or, lack therefore of - in between you and Connie’s lips. It was strange being this close to him and not feeling even an ounce of nervousness. Your heart was beating at a normal rate and your face was at a normal temperature. Your physical reaction to his body being pressed into your side as you laid on your stomach was completely new to you, you had never been so cool before, especially around Connie.

And, focusing on Connie had become easy for you at the moment, especially with the haziness of the room around you. Focusing on his facial features; focusing on his complexly colored eyes, focusing on the light stubble that had begun to grow on his jaw and cheeks, and focusing on his full lips. It was somehow especially easy to focus on his lips, even when he began to talk.

“I see you’re staring,” Connie said with a grin, “‘See something you like, darling?”

With this new haziness you also found a new confidence.

You blinked at him, “Yes, I do.”

“Oh, really?” Connie licked his lips delicately. “What?”

“You.”

Your eyes flashed up to Connie’s eyes. In that split second before your lips were on his, you could see a spark of something in his eyes. It was an emotion you noticed a lot in his eyes, but had never had the courage to admit it to yourself. The emotion was recognition, like he was reliving something he had done many times before. And, you hated to admit to yourself that maybe Connie wasn’t a good guy, but rather exactly like every other man on this planet.

But, before you had made the decision to be scared of his experience, you allowed yourself to lean forward and press your lips to his own. You ignored that flash of emotion in his eyes, and kissed him anyway. You honestly didn’t care if Connie had some stupid ulterior motive, you could give it to him - you craved to give everything he wanted to him.

Connie’s had slipped down the side of your body as his lips continued to work against your own. His fingers danced delicately down your body, moving over your curves the way a car drives down a backroad. His fingertips started at your shoulder blade and slowly made its way over your ribs, your side, your hip and then finally over the curve of your ass.

Connie slipped his hand under the waist of your pajama pants. His hand was anything but gentle as he tugged at the fabric of your pants. He didn’t have to ask for what he wanted, you knew exactly what it was and you wanted to give it to him. You groaned against his mouth one last time before moving onto your knees to push your pajama pants over your legs and to the floor beside the couch.

Connie watched you from where he laid below you. His eyes were heavy on your body as they looked over your newly bare legs. He brought his hand up to the bottom of your shirt, whispering with a cocky smirk spread across his cheeks.

“This too,” Connie said as he tugged on the thin fabric.

You gulped before nodding and doing as he said. You pulled the shirt over your head and threw it to the floor as well. Connie sucked in a quick breath at the new sight of you, practically naked in front of him - only your panties decorating your body.

You leaned close to Connie, pressing the ghost of your lips against his. You kept your eyes open and you were glad, since that gave you the opportunity to see Connie’s absolute hunger for you. You watched how his face scrunched up and his mouth moved towards your mouth, hoping for any type of kiss - long or short, passionate or boring, anything - from you.

“Connie,” You whispered against his mouth, “Where do you want me?”

Connie leaned back from you, eyeing you questioningly before patting his lap suggestively. You raised your eyebrows for a second before hopping on top of him. You straddled his waist on the unbearably small living room couch. You can’t believe you were embarrassed earlier, just to be standing in the kitchen with him, but now you were dry humping into the couch cushions below his body.

You moved your hips against the zipper of his jeans, feeling your stomach grow queasy from the feeling. You had never had anything close to this feeling before, it was like the better part of the feeling of being embarrassed in front of a classroom of people. It was a positive version of nervousness and embarrassment and it felt so fucking good.

You desperately gripped Connie’s t-shirt as you felt your body already start to fall apart on top of him. You moaned out into the empty space around you, closing your eyes as you grinded helplessly into his lap. Connie’s hands on your hips only guided you further, helping you create circles with your body to hit every single sensitive part.

“H-hey-hey,” Connie said desperately, just seeing you in this new position was driving him insane, “Not too quick, I’m just trying to turn you on, not give you an orgasm just yet.”

You looked down at Connie, feeling a bit embarrassed by your lack of patience. You had never been this driven by sex, it was like your horniess took over your mental wheel and wouldn’t let go. And, your entire body only felt more embarrassed knowing there must be a pretty big wet spot decorating the crotch of his sweatpants.

“Sorry,” You whispered timidly to Connie.

Connie grinned, “Don’t be sorry, baby - just let me help you.”

Connie lifted you off of him ever so slightly, just enough to push down his sweatpants and take out his already hard cock. You tried not to get a good look at it, not wanting to feel your nerves bubble back up if you could sneak a peek. Instead, you blindly trusted Connie, you let him line himself up and gently press push himself into you.

It was somehow better than the dry humping, and only a few minutes ago - you hadn’t thought that was possible. You continued to grind against his hips, remembering the silent tips he had given you when it was only his sweatpants. But now, with every circle of your body against his, you were gasping and moaning and he was cursing below you.

“Oh fuck.” Connie reached upward and brought your face down to him, giving you sloppy kisses across your lips and face. “You feel so good- so, so good.”

Your hips began to falter, your stomach tightening with pleasure. Connie felt the distance you were trying to create between your bodies - and he couldn’t blame you, you just didn’t know what was happening to your body, you didn’t realize he was going to give you your first orgasm. Connie tried to eliminate the distance you created, humping upwards into your entrance and only creating more pressure in your abdomen.

“Connie,” You moaned against his mouth, “Connie, I-I- don’t-”

Connie nodded against your face, “Just let yourself go, don’t worry - I’ve got ‘ya.”

So - as you always did - you did as Connie said and you let yourself go. In the peak of your orgasm, the haziness in the room around you began to disappear. Actually, the haziness wasn’t disappearing, the whole room was. And, slowly, Connie was disappearing from underneath you as well.

Before Connie had completely gone, you heard him whisper, “Don’t worry - I got ‘ya.”

Your eyes snapped awake to the sound of some strangely upbeat song playing in the living room. You lifted your head from Connie’s chest and glanced at the tv only to realize the song was a part of the end of the romantic comedy Connie had chosen about two hours ago.

It seemed you had imagined the whole experience. There were no strewn clothes, no orgasmic sex, no grinding and no fun. Instead, it was just you and Connie: as dressed as ever and snoring lightly into the dark living room except for the light coming from the credits of the movie still playing on the tv in front of you. And, when you shifted from one hip to the other, now pressing your backend into Connie, you felt the slightly uncomfortable presence of wetness in your panties.

The weirdest part was you didn’t feel like a virgin anymore, but maybe your dream was just extremely believable - you had always had a vast imagination.

Ruin the Friendship - S.O.S.

(Chapter 1 / 3)

Armin x Reader x Eren

Word Count: 4.0k

Warnings: mutual masturbation, phone sex

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

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

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

But, nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Armin.

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

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

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

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

“No,” You lied.

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

“No,” You lied again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrugged, “Yeah, I’m good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just don’t be drunk tomorrow, okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Armin sighed, “Masturbate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, you are-”

“I’m not!”

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

Armin sighed, “I’ve had sex before.”

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

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

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

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

“Sometimes,” Armin answers slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

“What kind of stuff?”

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

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

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

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

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

Armin closed his eyes, “Sometimes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded your head, “Definitely.”

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

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

“Just, things.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cool.”

“Yeah.”

Armin took a quick breath, “Goodbye?”

“Bye.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eren’s text message read, You called?

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

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

Eren answered a minute later, Oh, really?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next Chapter

The Worst Wingman - Tiger’s Eye and Gold

(Chapter 2 / 3)

Jean x Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Previous Chapter

Warnings: Mentions of vomiting, Implied sex

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

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

Second Saturday

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jean frowned at you, “I guess-”

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

“I suppose-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” Jean said quickly, “I am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded, “Please do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jean sighed, “Okay.”

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

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

“So,” You said, “Pieck seems nice.”

Jean grinned to himself, “So does Reiner.”

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

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

“Eh, he’s not really my type.”

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

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

You furrowed your brow, “Are you stupid?”

Jean smiled wide, “What are you saying?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” You nodded. “I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Second Sunday

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sure enough, your questions would be answered after tonight.

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

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

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

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

Next Chapter

The Lidérc

(Jean x Reader) - Word Count: 3.7k

Creature: a creature that can assume a human shape, usually the shape of a much lamented dead relative or lover in order to have sex with its victims.

Warnings: Major Character Death, Grieving, Dry Humping, Descriptions of Injuries

Quick Summary: while reminiscing about your husband, you have a strange dream that deeply upsets you.

Extra Notes: Happy Thursday! 3 more days until Halloween!

You weren’t shocked to see dust had collected on the bed sheets. It’s been a year since the accident, and it’s been a year since you’ve even stepped foot into this room. That morning you hadn’t felt like making the bed like you normally did, so you left it as is thus the dust collecting on top of the unmade bed.

You felt awkward being in here, even if it had only been a few minutes. You hadn’t so much as walked past the vanity on the wall opposite the bed, but you still felt as if you were intruding. This wasn’t entirely your room anymore, even if it did still belong to you. This was Jean’s room, and the person you were when he was still alive.

You took one final deep breath, turned around and closed the door behind you when you left the room. Maybe one day you can go back in there and sort through Jean’s clothing, it wasn’t like he would miss them. But today wasn’t the day, and tomorrow probably wouldn’t be the day either - it’s already been a full year since he left, so maybe in another year the day will finally arise.

Thinking about Jean always made your stomach hurt, even before he passed. You couldn’t help but remember that awful pain of bundled up nerves in the bottom of your stomach the first time he talked to you in that café. When he walked up to where you were sitting alone, and asked what you were working on, on your open laptop sitting in front of you.

You weren’t expecting the boy to even come up to you, nevermind talk to you. He had been staring at you from across the café for nearly an hour, and you kept catching him almost stepping in your direction but instead quickly sidestepping to go the other way. You wanted him to come up to you, but that was a lot to ask for especially since he was on the clock, was two years older than you, and-

You laughed weakly to yourself, “Another year and I’ve got you beat, Jeany.” You knew he couldn’t hear you, but you still liked to imagine he was listening. “You always loved reminding me how old you were, you always told me to respect your elders.” You laughed at Jean’s favorite words, but your laugh ran dry the more you thought about the fact that you’d never be able to hear him say it again.

It was like being told about climate change, and the very upsetting future our world was headed towards - being reminded of the hard truth hurt more than that bad thing actually happening. After a year of pain you realize that it’s not the days that you wake up remembering he’s not here anymore that hurt the most, it’s the days that you think he’s waiting for you in the kitchen downstairs with a cup of coffee just the way you like it. He always woke up before you, and he always made breakfast for you when he did, so of course you’d think he was waiting for you to finally join him in the kitchen. But, when you finally go into the kitchen, there is no breakfast and no Jean.

The stairs creaked underneath your body on your way downstairs. You went into the living room to the couch that you set up as your new bed a year ago. The living room didn’t even look like a living room anymore, but a second bedroom for you. On the coffee table and armchair sat piles of folded clothing around the couch with a stuffed animal - that Sasha had sent in the mail after she received the news of Jean’s passing - and a large blanket you bought to replace the dusty one from upstairs.

You sat down on your bed, and used the remote to turn on the tv for yourself. You started falling asleep to the light and sounds coming from the tv in front of the couch a year ago. Before Jean passed, he used to talk you to sleep; he’d tell you about his day, random memories, or anything he could think of, and when he was there to protect you, you never felt like you needed light to fall asleep when you had his arms instead. But, he was gone and that comfort he gave you was gone with him.

You laid down underneath the covers in the light that the tv provided, staring blankly at the cartoons bouncing across the screen. You knew if Jean was here, he’d say something about how Connie would love this show just because it was bright and made no sense to people with common sense. You knew you’d laugh, and push him, and remind him to be nicer to his friends. It would be a nice moment if Jean were here, but he wasn’t so the moment instead passed as yet another neutral one.

Your eyes eventually grew heavy, and your blinks grew slower. You could hardly keep your eyes open, and you didn’t really mind closing them, it wasn’t like you were missing anything important if you fell asleep right now. So, you allowed yourself to finally drift asleep.

You were suddenly in a car, driving down the street of your house. No music was playing from your radio, which is strange, but you were humming something soft to yourself. You pulled your car into your driveway, and put it in park before locking it and going inside your house.

You just came home from work which was obvious from your semi-formal outfit choice of the day. You took your high heels off and set it beside the door after entering your home. You locked the door behind you from force of habit and walked slowly down the hallway leading to the kitchen. You walked past framed pictures of family, friends, and most importantly, Jean.

You didn’t even glance at the picture of Jean that was sitting beside the lightswitch for the kitchen. It was your favorite picture of him, one you took on your first date with him. He had been focusing on opening the bottle of wine too much to notice his elbow deep into his spaghetti. He hated the picture, but always enjoyed the laughter that arose from you when you saw it, so he let you hang it up on the wall after you gifted him the picture in a frame for Christmas.

But, you didn’t even want to bother with pictures, when the real thing was standing right in front of you.

Jean leaned over the kitchen sink, scrubbing vigorously at the dishes with bright yellow rubber gloves on. You watched him from the entrance to the kitchen as he cursed at the bowl in his hands, covered in soap suds. There must’ve been a nasty stain on the dish because Jean was only a few seconds from throwing the whole dish away.

You giggled, blowing your cover. Jean hadn’t heard you enter the house, too focused on the dirty dishes. But, after hearing your sweet laugh from behind him, Jean finally turned around to you, slightly surprised by your seemingly sudden presence.

“Hi,” Jean said with a smile, “How was work?”

So, you did just come home from work.

“It was the same as always.” You walked across the kitchen towards him. “Same people, same problems, same cafeteria coffee.”

Jean set the dish back into the suds, “You make it sound so bad. Sometimes having a routine is nice.” Jean took his rubber gloves off and set them on the counter beside the sink. “Now, when the routine is taken away - that’s when things get bad-” Jean turned to you with raised eyebrows- “Right?”

You blinked at your husband, “Yeah, I guess. Anyways, what are you making for dinner?”

“Dinner?” Jean held his hand to his heart. “Why are you asking me about dinner, I’m the one doing the dishes, dinner is your problem.”

“What?” You laughed with emotionless shock, trying to keep the fake fight going. “We never agreed upon that deal!”

Jean laughed with you, “This is a tyranny, you don’t have the opportunity to disagree with anything. I decide everything.”

“So, you can make dinner, then? Since it’s your tyranny, right?”

“Touché.”

The kitchen grew quiet as the conversation quickly died. You didn’t really feel the need to talk at the moment. You kept watching Jean as a strange feeling settled in your stomach. You couldn’t help but feel like even though Jean was so close to you, just across the room from you, you still felt like he was a whole lifetime away.

You watched intently as Jean went about his day so normally. He had discarded his rubber dish scrubbing gloves, and had now moved onto looking through paper menus for what to buy at some local restaurants. He furrowed his eyebrows as he read over the menu items, probably trying to decide on what to get himself as well as for you.

“Honey,” You said in a soft voice as you walked across the room towards him, “Why are you looking at menus?” You smiled wide, trying to hide the laugh bubbling up from your stomach. “I was assuming you were going to make dinner. Like, a romantic candle lit dinner, like we used to have when you still liked me.”

“Babe.” Jean smiled, but you could tell he was trying to keep a straight face. “That’s impossible, because I never liked you.”

“Jean!” You smacked your husband’s chest with a hard thud.

“I’m kidding,” Jean shouted with a laugh, “And, I’m not cooking anything tonight, unless you want me to, of course - but, we already agreed on ordering something so-”

“We did?” You stared at Jean with heavily furrowed eyebrows. You must’ve forgotten the last ten minutes of conversation with him because you couldn’t remember ever agreeing upon anything like that.

Jean tilted his head at you with a grin across his lips, “Yeah? Don’t you remember, it happened just a minute ago? Maybe you’re losing it, hun.” Jean gave your forehead a flick before turning back to the paper menu in his hand.

Maybe you were losing it. Why couldn’t you remember that conversation at all? And, he said it happened only a minute ago? But, that doesn’t make any sense, you had been quietly admiring him for so long. There was no way you agreed upon anything during that time, but maybe Jean asked the question about ordering in tonight and took your wide eyed silence as a yes. But, that just wasn’t like Jean to assume something from silence, the whole thing was just strange.

“Okay,” You spoke slowly, afraid of missing another minute of conversation, “Well, then it’s settled that we’re eating in tonight.”

Jean looked at you from over the menu, “How hungry are you right now?”

“A normal amount, wait-” You pressed your hand to your stomach and didn’t feel the rumble of hunger deep inside- “Yeah, a normal amount, why?”

Jean grinned, “How about we both eat in and eat out tonight?” Jean raised a single eyebrow with his question. You were sure he was making an innuendo of some sort, but you couldn’t think of what. All you could hear yourself thinking was, won’t we be too full?

“Um,” You said hesitantly, “I guess we can do that.”

“You don’t know what I’m saying, do you?”

The joke suddenly hit you, “Oh my god, Jean!”

“Come on.” Jean laughed as he threw the menu aside. “Time to eat up.”

With newly free hands, Jean now attempted his next trick. He bent forward, wrapping his arms around your waist, and slung you onto his shoulder. You were now face to back with Jean, and you gently slapped your hands against his ass, in an attempt to persuade him to drop you, as he walked you around the house.

You watched the floor for any indication of where Jean was taking you. The floor faded from tiles into hardwood and then into carpeted stairs as your body bounced against his shoulder with each step. You gripped hard to Jean’s waist, trying to suppress the fear that was bubbling up inside of you from seeing the stairs from this angle.

Jean laughed as he finally reached the top of the stairs, “Baby, seriously, you’re fine with me - I’m not dropping you, I won’t let you go.”

“You better not.” Your grip loosened on Jean’s waist as you realized how deeply your trust for him ran. He wouldn’t drop you, you really are fine with him.

The floor in front of you turned back to hardwood which indicated you were finally upstairs. No more bouncing on his shoulder or fear of falling face first into the stairs he was walking up under you. Jean then opened a door, and the floor switched from the hardwood to carpet. You could admit that from the beginning, you knew where Jean was taking you, but now you knew where you were - you were in the bedroom.

In one swing of his arms, as if you were a bag of potatoes and not a human being, Jean tossed you onto the bed in front of him. Your back hit the soft bed, and you laughed as you looked up at him standing over you. Jean looked down at you as well, his eyes were wide with admiration, and you swore you could even see the glimmer of tears daring to fall from his eyelids.

Jean joined you on the bed, crawling over top of you. As he took his time getting to your lips, he made sure to stop at different parts of your body and give attention to them on his way to your face. He kissed your clothed thigh, your hip, your stomach, the cup of your breasts, and finally your face. He smiled down at you before he finally got to kiss your lips.

“Hello,” Jean said in a sweet tone as if it had been too long since he last saw you.

You smiled back at Jean, “Hello.”

Jean finally let his lips meet yours, he gave an extra gentle kiss to your lips. You weren’t sure if it was the feeling of him being so far away earlier or maybe the moments you had missed in the kitchen, but you didn’t want to be innocent with him. You felt passionate right now, and you wanted Jean to feel that passion from both your lips and your body.

You took control over your moment with Jean. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and brought his body closer to yours. You kissed him roughly, introducing your tongue to his mouth with a sensual slowness. You could even hear Jean groan against your mouth with the movement - you couldn’t say you were surprised by his reaction, you knew how much he loved being reminded of what your tongue could do.

Your lips awakened something in Jean’s attitude, no longer attempting to be sweet and innocent, Jean was now just as desperate as you were. Your lips struggled to stay with each other as you kissed wherever on his face your mouth could find. You kissed over his lips, his cheeks, his chin, and even scratched the soft skin of your lips as you ended up kissing his rough stubble.

“Jean,” You moaned his name into his mouth, “I want more.”

Jean could melt from just those words and the way you said it. But, when you reached for the waistband of your slacks, fumbling clumsily for the zipper, Jean felt his entire body get hot with desire for you. You finally loosened your pants, letting the fabric fall open for Jean to whatever he pleased with.

“Not yet,” Jean whispered breathlessly into your mouth, “Let’s take our time, please.”

It wasn’t like Jean to want to take anything slow, so this moment must be really important to him. Hell, he didn’t even want to take his time after he met you. He asked you out on a date for the very next night, and even wanted to make it official after the first kiss. He even proposed to you only a year into the relationship, and far sooner than anybody else in your life. Jean took life by storm every single day, so for him to want to take this moment slow with you made your stomach flutter with butterflies.

You nodded against Jean’s face, “Okay, we can go slower.” You kissed Jean gently down his neck and then pressed your mouth to his ear. “Here, let me take control.”

Jean let you take control in the situation, flipping him onto his back and situating yourself on top of him. You looked down at the boy below you, looking at how pretty he looked with his reddened face, wild looking hazel eyes, and messy long brown hair splayed out on the pillow beneath his head.

In a moment of haziness, you almost thought the bed had been a mess; both unmade and covered in a thick layer of dust from months of being unused. But, after a quick check of your surroundings, both the bedroom and the bed itself looked completely normal. No dust, no umade sheets, and no missing clothing. This room was just as you remembered it, perfectly normal.

“What’s wrong?” Jean moved his hands down your sides and slid his hands into the waist of your pants to touch your bare hips. “You look worried about something.”

You shook your head slightly, “It’s nothing.”

You leaned down to kiss Jean again, trying to help him ignore your unnatural behavior. It was as if your mind was playing tricks on itself, and it was kind of scaring you. You’d never actually tell Jean that because you’re afraid of how he’d react, but you couldn’t help the uneasiness that came with your sudden forgetting problem.

As your lips moved with Jean’s lips, you felt his fingers dig into the skin on your hips. You felt as Jean’s rough touch slowly turned from a way to grip himself to Earth, and more a way to grind his hips into you from below. He moved your body against his body with a slow proficiency, even moaning into your mouth with each grind of your body on top of his.

You laughed breathlessly into Jean’s mouth, “I thought you wanted to take things slow?”

“I did.” Jean chuckled lowly to you. “But, now I don’t think I can handle going slow anymore.”

You took Jean’s words as a bit of a challenge, if he didn’t want it slow, then you were going to make him want it again. You rolled your hips delicately against his body, ignoring and going against the direction of his rough guiding hands. If he didn’t want to take it slow anymore, then you were going to prove to him that he shouldn’t have changed his mind.

Jean groaned low in his throat from feeling your body hit spots of him that he couldn’t reach when he was in control. Jean didn’t stop trying to change your movements, but now out of desperation. You felt as he desperately clung to your hips for dear life. He wasn’t used to being on the bottom, and it was driving him crazy in all of the right ways.

“Baby,” Jean mumbled against your mouth, “Baby, look at me, please look at me - I need to see you.”

You leaned back and looked at Jean, and immediately regretted it. Jean didn’t look how he did in the kitchen, he didn’t look like himself at all. Of course, under all of the blood you could recognize the face as the one you’ve loved for so long, but upon first glance, he was just a bloody body.

Jean’s entire right side of his face was where the blood was mostly coming from. There were glass shards lodged into his cheek and forehead, and blood splattered across the left side of his face from the cuts. Jean’s head wasn’t up straight either, where he normally had excellent posture and a long lean neck, he now had it stuck at an uncomfortably impossible angle. And, blood spewed from Jean’s mouth, dripping from his lips as he spoke to you.

“Baby,” Jean said in his normally sweet tone, “I love you, always remember that, okay?”

Your eyes were filled with tears as you stared at him, “Jean what the-”

“Just,” Jean continued despite his gruesome state, “I’m okay, and you should be too.”

Your eyes snapped open suddenly. Your heart was racing in your chest. You could hardly breathe as you looked around the area around you. The tv was still playing cartoons innocently in front of you, and you were still comfortably tucked into your blanket on the living room couch. Nothing seemed off, and nothing seemed out of place - and unfortunately, there was no Jean in this reality.

You took deep breaths to calm your still quickly beating heart. You didn’t know why you would dream of something so awful, yet something you were so sickeningly envious of. You didn’t care what Jean looked like or if he was permanently bleeding from never healing wounds, you would prefer he be here than somewhere you couldn’t reach him. Even if your dream self was suffering horribly from such a nightmare scenario, she was so lucky because at least she still had Jean.

You know dreams have meanings, even the scary ones that settle new fears in your heart. You wondered what that dream could mean, and you weren’t completely sure. But, you supposed maybe it was trying to convince you to move on - well, maybe not on but moving back into the bedroom would be a nice start.

And maybe Jean really did come to you in that dream, maybe he came back to help you move on. It would explain how scarily accurate he looked, both in his very much alive state and in his less alive state. It would also explain how warm the dream made you feel, from the tender moment with Jean in the kitchen to just coming home from a job you haven’t been to in six months. And, most importantly, it would explain why you could still feel Jean’s hands on your skin, like each touch he gave you was actually an invisible tattoo on your body.

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.

tested positive for needing a kiss