Creature: a spiritual being believed to act as an attendant, agent, or messenger of God
Warnings: Blasphemy, Very Religious Mindsets, Vaginal Penetration, Creampie, Breeding Kink
Extra Notes: Kicking off the Halloween countdown strong with some angelic Jean! Also, for all of the Fleabag fans, this is lightly inspired by the Confessional scene in season 2!
You were used to the church being quiet at this time of night, it was unusual to see anyone awake at midnight and especially seeing them inside praying. But, this was the only time you liked to come here; you’d show up on Sundays, Wednesdays, and almost every Friday and Monday at midnight.
The large wooden front door of the church creaked as you pushed it open. You leaned your entire body weight into the door, slowly moving it to rest in its normal spot for Wednesdays and Sundays. It’s only completely open all day when there's a service, but just because it’s shut doesn’t mean you can’t come in and pray - that’s something the priest had always told you since your first day here.
Your shoes clicked against the hard mahogany wood flooring underneath you. You walked down the main aisle of the church, passing the pews you normally sit in during sermons. You tended to choose the pews towards the back, not wanting to impose on the other churchgoers - the only person here nice enough to make you feel welcome has always been the priest. Everybody else gave you weird looks for showing up alone when you used to come every week with your husband.
You finally made it to your destination, the large mahogany confessional stood high in front of you. You pulled back the curtain for the left side of the booth and immediately kneeled on the small step stool in front of the small iron grate separating you from the priest. You took a deep breath before bringing all of your sins to mind, readying yourself for the next conversation.
This definitely wasn’t your last time in this exact position and place, and definitely wouldn’t be your last time either. Every week you tried to confess, same day, same time, same priest, same church. You enjoyed routine and you liked to believe maybe Father Jean liked it as well, always knowing you’d make your way here eventually every single Friday night. You took a deep breath before beginning the same routine of the night.
“Bless me Father, for I have sinned.” There fell a moment of silence in which you knew the priest was basking in as well as yourself. “It’s been a week since my last confession.”
You started talking about all of your sins within the last seven days. You spoke of the time you saw your ex-husband at the grocery store the other day, and how you had wished you had the nerve to speak your anger - but you didn’t. You also spoke of the time your mother called and you purposely ignored the ringing because you didn’t feel like talking at the moment - but you did call her back later. And, you spoke a bit too long about the large chocolate cake you bought and ate all by yourself alone in your living room last Saturday night.
After minutes and minutes of confessing every moment within the last seven days where you felt minorly sinful, you ended with an apology. You always ended with many sorrys said to the priest. Sorry for wasting your time, and thank you for being here for me. Sorry for always sinning and thank you for always blessing me despite my sins. Sorry for stealing your sleep on a Friday night, and thank you for always being available when you are available.
Your routine for every Friday night at midnight in this same confessional, with this same priest, in this same church was down to the T. You wouldn’t be surprised if there came a time when you would confess the same sins, constantly, every week. Now, in the routine, all that was left was Father Jean blessing you and you going on your merry way back home.
“That’s all of your sins?” Father Jean asked after a moment of letting your confession truly settle in the air between you both. “You have nothing else left to say to me right now?”
You nodded even though you knew the priest couldn’t see it, “Yes, that’s everything I can think of at the moment.”
“Not even masturbation?”
The question shocked you to your core. You didn’t even like saying the m-word and here was your priest saying it to you, asking you if you have participated in the act. You wondered why he’d even ask such a thing, did he believe you were lying about your sins?
“No, no no no, of course not, Father.” You felt like crying, pleading with the priest to know that you would never leave a sin out of your confession and you would never lie to him. “I have never done that, never.”
“Wow,” Father Jean spoke as if he gave up completely, “You’ve never even masturbated, you really are a saint, you know that, right?”
“I,” You attempted to speak, but only air came out of your mouth. You thought maybe it was a good sign you were breathing, at least now you knew this whole conversation was real. “I, uh, I think it’s a little sacreligious for you to compare me to a saint when I’m not.”
Father Jean giggled breathily on his side of the confessional. You heard him smack his hand against his leg, as if he were physically giving up on this conversation. You felt guilty for making him feel this way, you now wished you had masturbated at least once so you could help him through this conversation - maybe he wouldn’t be so upset if you had done something that sinful in your life just once.
But, you never had. You only had sex with your husband a handful of times before he divorced you a year into the marriage. And, even then, you had been persistent on waiting to have sex for the first time until after your wedding day. Before then as well, you always swallowed the urge to touch yourself, never wanting to give into sin.
“I’m sorry,” You pleaded to the priest, “I can- I can touch myself if you want me to!”
“No, no no no.” The wood creaked on the other side of the wall in front of you, it sounded like Father Jean was walking around on his side of the confessional. “I don’t want you to do that, I just- I have never met somebody like you before, you know that?” The curtain on his side sprung open quickly, you looked toward your curtain, wondering where he was going. Outside of your curtain, you heard him speak. “You’re special, you deserve a special reward.”
You blinked at him, dumbfounded, “Father, what do you mean, what are you saying?”
The curtain in between you and the priest slammed against the wall beside it and you stared up at Father Jean. You were still on your knees in front of him, looking up at him with large and delicate eyes. He could see your innocence in your face, he could see how sinless you lived and yet how guilty you felt for every normal feeling you had. It was amazing to him to see someone so much like himself.
“I’ve been looking for somebody like you for quite a long portion of my existence.” Father Jean shook his head as he examined you in front of him. “And, I have never met anyone as holy as you are. I want to reward you, God is allowing me to reward you, if you accept his reward.”
You nodded quickly, “Yes, of course I accept. I accept anything God will give me.”
“Then, stand up for me.” You did as he said, and stood on your feet. You had to look up at Father Jean at this distance, you had never been this close to him. You always knew he was tall, and you had always heard the other members speak of his height, but you had never had the chance to witness it yourself so closely. “And, kiss me.”
Your throat had gone dry, you had to admit you had found yourself imagining kissing Father Jean many, many times - he’s the most handsome man you had ever seen. But, you never thought it become a reality, you knew priests couldn’t marry, so you assumed sex was not an option for them. Hearing your priest tell you to kiss him made you want to question his celibacy, but you also didn’t care so much, he didn’t have to tell you twice - you have wanted to kiss him for as long as you’ve known him.
You leaned forward and kissed him, swiftly landing your lips on his lips. You had never kissed anyone other than your ex-husband, and you had to admit that kissing somebody else was a whole new experience for you. And, you had to admit you liked it, you liked it a lot - and part of you even missed these intimate moments with your ex.
Your body was suddenly flush against Father Jean’s, and you weren’t sure if this was your doing or his. His body was not only pressed against your own, but now he was backing you up, back into the confessional. You moved your lips from his mouth to give yourself just enough space to talk.
“Father,” You whispered against his lips, “Where are you-?”
The priest sushed you quietly, “It’s okay, just trust me, okay?” You nodded while your lips still grasped for his, not wanting to stop kissing him but still curious in his plan. But, you did trust him, you trusted him with every ounce of your soul.
Father Jean backed you against the mahogany wall and you picked you up so your legs could wrap around his waist. You gasped as he pushed your back against the wall enough to only need to hold you up with one hand. He used his now free hand to unbutton his black slacks.
The new angle you were at forced your dress to be pushed up to your waist, and now his free hand scrambled for your panties. You tried to speak, but all that came out was a mess of breathing and syllables.
“Fa-fa-fath-er” You spoke through breathless gasps.
The priest shook his head, “Don’t worry, God has a plan for you and this baby, he’s going to be very special.” Father Jean moved your panties to the side, pushing his dick inside of you in one swift movement. You would’ve been more impressed by his pure muscular strength if you weren’t preoccupied by his whole cock inside of you.
The feeling of being with Father Jean felt so much better than being with your ex-husband, it felt holy oddly enough. You felt like you were floating rather being held up by the priest’s muscular arms, and you could swear - in your lightheaded state of pleasure - that there was an odd golden glow around the both of you. The golden glow made you think that maybe God himself was here to witness this moment, and that thought made your eyes flood with tears. You always knew God was real and active in your life, but this was the first moment you felt reassured by that feeling.
Tears streamed down your cheeks as gripped onto the back of the priest’s shirt. You could feel that Father Jean had some odd bumps on his shoulder bones, they felt like long linear scars meeting at a point at his ribs. You were curious about what these marks were caused by, but not enough to open your mouth and attempt speaking - and you were sure if you had opened your mouth, nothing but moans would come out.
You suddenly felt as Father Jean’s abdomen tightened against your stomach, and even though you had only had sex a handful of times, you knew what that meant. You leaned in close to the priest, bringing your mouth up to his ear and whispered sweetly to him.
“Come inside of me,” You begged, “Please, Father.”
You didn’t have to say much more than that before Father Jean was releasing himself inside of you. You and the priest sang a chorus of moans as you felt yourself get filled up with his warmth. You wanted Father Jean to fuck you again and again and again, knowing that eventually you’ll be filled up with as many children as he wants for however long he wants you.
The priest set you back on the ground gently and your legs wobbled as they hit the ground. You felt like a newborn deer just learning to walk for the first time and you looked at it as well when you tried to leave the confessional without the priest’s assistance. Father Jean helped you to a pew and sat down beside you, placing his hand gently on your arm before speaking softly to you.
“I’m glad you have accepted God’s gift,” Father Jean said, “He will be pleased to know one of his children is walking the Earth, continuing his legacy for him.”
You nodded, confused but not in the mood to ask questions. You’d ask him some other time, you’d ask him about God’s gift to you, what he means, why he’s doing this, and when you can do it again. You also wished to ask the priest what those marks on his back were from, but just as suddenly as Father Jean had pinned you against the wall, you felt the spirit of sleep dawn upon you. You rested your head on the priest’s shoulder and whispered to him.
“Okay,” You said in a small voice, one you were unsure if the priest could even hear, “Thank you.” Jean chuckled as you began drifting off into sleep.
**These one-shots will include smut**
(if you wish for the order and creatures to be a secret then, keep scrolling!)
Sasha the Exiled God: a female deity,,, who so happens to be exiled from her home in this au.
Warnings: Praise Kink, Cunnilingus (Receiving), Sex Outside
Word Count: 3.5k
Pieck the Witch: a woman who is supposed to have evil or wicked powers.
Warnings: Obsession, Fingering (Giving)
Word Count: 3.7k
Connie the Incubus: a male demon believed to have sexual intercourse with (sleeping) women.
Warnings: Cherry Picking, Corruption Kink, Unprotected Sex, Wet Dream
Word Count: 3.8k
Jean the Lidérc: 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
Word Count: 3.7k
Armin the Prince of Hell: 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
Word Count: 3.7k
Reiner the Serial Killer: a person who commits a series of murders, often with no apparent motive and typically following a characteristic, predictable behavior pattern.
Warnings: Major Character Death, Mentions of Drugging and Alcohol, Dry Humping
Word Count: 3.8k
Eren the Vampire: 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: Slight Powerplay, Unprotected Sex, (Kind of) Public Sex, Blood Kink
Word Count: 3.9k
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Last Updated 05/28/2021
Warnings: fingering, exhibitionism, mentioned masturbation - slight dub con
Summary: Reader has been watching her boyfriend play this stupid game for nearly an hour. She is in desperate need of some attention, but he is still ignoring her. Guess she’ll have to force him to pay attention to her by offering something he could never say no to.
Notes: I got inspired and wrote this in one sitting. Also, I don't know shit about Skyrim but... enjoy!
You never understood what was so intriguing about Skyrim. It was a low quality game about being an adventurer in a dangerous world. It was fun, sure, but not that much fun. It wasn’t fun enough to completely ignore your girlfriend after begging her to come over to your house. Nothing should be that much fun.
You watched from Armin’s bed as his fingers moved skillfully over the keyboard. His screen showed the game as his avatar maneuvered through the snowy woods. He talked into a headset, asking his friends where they were for the fight and where they were going next.
You had been watching your boyfriend for the last ten minutes, your face set into a permanent frown from boredom. You loved seeing him happy, but you preferred when his happiness was tied directly to you. Whether you were making him happy from the thing between your legs or from the words coming from between your lips, you didn’t care. You just loved making him happy.
You disappointedly threw your phone to the bed and slid to the edge. Armin didn’t notice anything in the room had changed, so you continued. You moved to his chair, placing your hand delicately on his shoulder before whispering sensually to him.
“Can I join you?” You asked, sweetly, your voice barely audible to the game-obsessed boy.
“Yeah,” Armin said quickly, moving back on his chair to give you enough room to join him. You grinned before swinging your leg over the boy.
He was used to you joining him while he was gaming, but never like this. He was used to you sitting on his lap, facing the screen and watching him play. You would even flick his fingers during stressful battles, much to his opposition. You would laugh as he playfully cried out, trying his hardest to keep his avatar alive on the screen, fighting battles with both you and the enemies from the game.
But, you now sat on him backwards than what he was used to. You straddled him, your chest close to his as you snuggled your face into the crook of his neck. He had his arms around your body, his fingers still moving across the keyboard. And, your arms were pressed in between your’s and his chests, bent at an awkward angle.
He continued to play, despite his initial confusion. He still talked to his friends through his headset and moved his avatar around the map. You thought sitting on his lap would be enough to calm your anxious heart, but you needed more from him. You didn’t like sharing your boyfriend’s attention with an inanimate object.
Inanimate objects couldn’t compare to you, they couldn’t make him as happy as you could.
“Armin,” You whispered into the soft skin of his neck.
“Yes, baby,” He said into the side of your head, giving a single peck to the hair above your ear.
“Remember when we first met?”
Armin smiled to himself because of course he remembered the day he met you. It wasn’t too long ago, but even if it had been a hundred years ago, he would have remembered it like it had been yesterday. He felt pity looking back on a version of himself that didn’t know true happiness yet, but he also felt warm and fuzzy remembering a time when everything you two did was new.
“Yeah,” Armin said with a grin, “I remember.”
The first time you had met Armin was purely accidental, a series of fateful events all leading towards the love of your life. You were invited to the event because of your close relation to Sasha, since you helped her study for her chemistry final exam. She wanted to pay you back for helping her get a good grade, so she invited you to Eren’s apartment for a small get-together.
At said get-together is where you met Armin.
You were awkward at first, sitting on Eren’s couch as they all played games on the tv. Sasha offered you excessive amounts of alcohol, to which you mostly accepted. Then, you drunkenly talked to everyone in the room, finally finding your way out of your own shell.
You made your way to Armin, the one person in the room you wanted to talk to more than anything. Ever since you walked into the spacious apartment, you found your eyes drawn to the blonde boy. You wanted to hear anything he could say. You wanted to be near him, you didn’t have to touch, just to feel his presence was enough.
That night made you certain that wishes came true. You talked endlessly with the boy - about anything and everything - and you even got his number before he dropped you off at your apartment. He went home thinking about you and you went home thinking about him.
It was the beginning of a cliche love story, and you liked that. You liked the boy so much that you even thought about him for the rest of night, with your hand in your pajama pants and panting breaths escaping from between your lips.
You leaned back from the boy, making eye contact with his blue eyes. You took in the sight of his up-close face, something so familiar yet so extraordinary at the same time.
“I think about that day a lot.” You smiled tiredly at Armin.
“Oh,” He said with perched eyebrows, “Why?”
You had directed the conversation to exactly where you wanted it. He was exactly where you wanted him to be. The prey making his way to the predator’s trap.
Your cheeks flushed and you looked away, feigning shyness, “No, it’s embarrassing.”
“I doubt it is.” Armin grinned. “Just tell me.”
“You promise not to make fun of me?” You tilted your head, smiling like a schoolgirl. Armin nodded, his mind no longer occupied on the game behind you. He’d rather talk to you anyway. “I have to hear you promise.”
“I promise I won’t make fun of you.”
Your grin was now gone, along with your feigned innocence. You leaned closer to the boy, your chest now flush against his own. Your hands found a new home on his sides, your fingers grazing over his ribs, feeling every bump under your fingertips.
You leaned your mouth to his ear, whispering sensually, “I masturbated to the thought of you that night. After meeting you, it hurt me, just how badly I need you - it hurts.”
Armin’s entire body fell into shock. His stomach tensed under your hands and his breathing came out ragged and broken. His lips were parted slightly, letting his breaths escape.
You knew him well enough to know what was going through his head. You knew he imagined the imagery you set before him. You knew he was thinking about you, lying all pretty on your bed, one hand down your pants and the other covering your eyes. As if you were ashamed to be unknowingly aroused by the idea of him being inside you.
He thought about the desperation in your voice as you confessed to him and he was suddenly hyper aware of your hands on him. You were so close to him, situated on his lap in the perfect position for him to hump up into the air and touch something. Something he suddenly needed as well.
“Oh,” Armin's voice came out as a whisper, “You did?”
You bit back your smile, “Yeah. I still think about it to this day. When I’m lonely. When you’re busy with class. I just think about you, and what I’d let you do to me.”
“And what would you let me do to you?”
Snap. The trap closed around the prey, much to the predator’s delight.
You looked intently into his eyes, “Whatever you’d give to me, I’d take it all.”
Armin’s thigh twitched at the sound of that. He thought about how many inches separated his cock from your entrance. And, his heart rate accelerated when he realized that it was only a few inches, maybe two or three. It would take one strong move and he could finally hear you moan out for him. But, he instead decided to work slowly.
One of Armin’s hands suddenly came to your arm, not even the slightest bit interested in the avatar running around a seemingly empty village behind you. He had his fingers wrapped gingerly around the plush of your bicep.
“Seriously,” Armin asked innocently, “You’d take anything?”
“And everything.” You stated with a glint of desperation in your voice.
Armin moved his arm under your own, his fingers now resting on your hip. You felt your chest tighten with the movement. You knew where his fingers were headed, and your heart couldn’t take the suspense of the moment.
“And,” Armin asked with a curious tilt of his head in your direction, “When do you want me?”
“All the time,” You whispered back to the boy.
It was exactly what he wanted to hear. He dragged his hand along the soft skin of your thigh, fingers digging into the skin and leaving temporary indents.
“And,” Armin said while he watched your eyes intently, “Would you let anyone else touch you this way?”
“No,” You said, “Only you. I only want you.”
Armin loved the thought of you subconsciously comparing everybody else you’ve ever been with to himself. And, he loved knowing they could never come close to him at the top of your mental list. He could even die happy knowing you would never leave him because you know that nobody would ever make you feel the same way. It didn’t matter how he treated you - though he treats you amazingly - he could destroy you mentally and you’d still come crawling back to him at the end of the day.
Armin brought his hand under the opening of your sleep shorts. His fingertips now played with the lacy fabric of your panties underneath. Even physical contact close to where you wanted it caused your core to throb desperately for more.
“Kiss me.” Armin demanded, insinuating a trade with his words. With every good kiss you gave, you’d get something you want in return.
So, you leaned forward and kissed your boyfriend. Your body moved closer to him with each second of the kiss, your back arching and your chest brushing up against his own. Your fingers, still on his sides, now dug into his skin, your nails leaving behind shallow marks to his soft skin.
The room, once filled with the sound of Armin’s mindless conversations with his friends about dragons and taverns, was now filled with the sound of lips smacking together desperately. You then pushed your tongue into his mouth to which he whined hopelessly onto your lips.
Armin’s hand made its way over the lacy panties under your shorts. His fingers brushed against your clothed core. Your boyfriend’s body lit with satisfaction at the knowledge of just how wet you were from only kissing him, sitting on his lap, and talking about how much you needed him. The wetness was already on his fingers, soaking through the thick fabric of your panties.
His fingers brushed the sensitive spot that needed him most and you moaned quietly to his mouth. His lips ate every whine you gave while his fingers brushed further into the sensitive area.
You moved closer to the boy as your hips tried to get even closer to him, desperately bucking into his hand as he teased your entrance. Despite the lack of space between you two already, you tried to connect further to both his body and hand. You wanted to feel everything he felt, you wanted to feel his body heat on top of your own.
Armin had now completely forgotten the game behind you. He wasn’t bothered by leaving his avatar in the middle of a random tavern that his friends had decided to meet up at. And, his friends weren’t bothering him through the headset, instead they all sat quiet on the other end of the call, patiently listening for your moans.
You didn’t know about the boys’ interest in your moment with Armin. And, Armin was too deeply indulged in you that the thought of muting his end of the call never crossed his mind. The boys’ made sure to mute their own ends though, right when they heard you say that first sentence of masturbating to the idea of him. They were sure the moment would progress and nothing was better than free porn, especially when the free porn was moaning so desperately into their ears.
You bit your lip, trying to quiet down your panting breaths, “Can you touch me more?” You whispered the words onto Armin’s lips. “I wanna feel you inside me.”
Armin nodded against your face, his lips finding yours before doing as you pleased. His fingers slipped past the wet fabric of your panties, pushing them to the side. His calloused fingers brushed the soaked area under the panties, dragging out a mostly quiet moan from between your lips.
“In, in,” You said desperately to his mouth, “I want them in.”
Armin smiled against your lips, “Be patient.”
You nodded and felt as his fingertips brushed delicately against the area. His fingers teasingly played with your throbbing core, only making the wetness problem worse. His middle finger leaned up towards your entrance, using the collected slick to enter without much trouble at all.
You let out a high pitched moan at the feeling of something being inside. You lazily kissed Armin’s mouth, leaving wet kisses down his jaw, neck and onto his collarbone as a silent thank you. He openly accepted the gratitude, moving his head up to allow more kisses.
You brought your hips further down, widening your straddle as best you could on the small desk chair. You opened yourself further, hoping the boy would get the memo of how badly you needed a second finger in with the first without you having to say it out loud. But, you knew Armin better than anyone, and you knew he loved to hear your hopeless pleas even if he knew what you wanted already.
“Please,” You whispered into the skin of his neck, “More.”
He listened to your pleas this time, whether because you asked so nicely or because he truly wanted to give you more, you were unsure. But, the logistics of the situation became irrelevant when he pushed the second finger into your entrance. You felt the pressure of the fullness of both fingers and let out a soft moan into his hair, trying to muffle the noise.
“I wanna hear you,” He said as he pushed the two fingers in and out of you, “If you want me to continue, tell me.”
“Please,” You cried out to him.
He loved seeing you so desperate. He loved watching just what a small part of his body could do to you. Whether it be his fingers or his tongue or even his half-hardened cock pressed against your ass while you make breakfast. He loved hearing just how badly you needed him, and only him.
You normally try to stifle your moans, hoping not to disturb a silent peace in the room. But, when Armin told you he wanted to hear you, he meant it as a bargain. If you were loud and desperate for him, he would give you something to be loud and desperate about.
And, loud and desperate was exactly what you were. You pushed your hips into his hands, trying to suck his fingers up further than what he was allowing. You let go of that mental filter in your mind and let your moans come out as they came to your throat. You sent each whine into the sensitive skin of his neck, to which he proudly continued pumping his fingers in and out of you.
The lewd noises coming from beneath your shorts could be heard throughout the entire room and even through the headset. The boys on the other end heard each squelch of your pussy, and mentally stored the sounds in their own heads. They could also hear your moans, and your desperate curses as Armin curled his fingers inside of you, finally letting his fingers hit your sweet spot.
“Armin,” You whined his name out, “I-I’m-”
“You gonna come, baby?” Armin’s voice asked sweetly, contrary to the crude words he had spoken. You nodded your head fiercely against his neck, in silent response to his question. “Then, come.”
And with that final word, you let yourself release on his fingers and in your panties. He rode out your high, letting his fingers stay put for a few moments while you tried to catch your breath against the skin of his neck. You gave the boy sweet kisses to the soft skin, silent thank-yous for what he had done for you.
“Baby,” Armin whispered as he pulled his fingers from under your shorts.
“Mhm,” You mumbled against his skin.
“Want me to fuck you?” His voice was once again sweet for such a crude question.
Your eyes snapped open, “Right now?”
You lean back and look at the boy in front of you. His blue eyes were darkened with a newfound lust from your shared moment. And, you could see he was smiling innocently, despite having just pushed you to climax only a few moments ago.
“Yes,” Armin said, “Right now.”
You nodded before nearly throwing yourself from the desk chair and off of his lap. On your way back to his bed, you ripped your shirt and shorts off before throwing yourself on top of his comforter. Once on the bed, your panties and bra made a dramatic exit as well, sliding off of your legs and arms.
Armin rose from the chair and quickly ripped the headset from his head. With the force of throwing his headset, they unplugged from the computer, much to his friends’ disappointment. Armin walked towards you, taking his clothes off as well and letting them mingle with your own on the floor. He then joined you on the bed, pulling you against him in one swift move and kissing you passionately.
Warnings: mentions of homophobia
Summary: Jean knew you better than anybody else, so why was he so good at picking the worst people on the planet for you to go on dates with. You were persistent to find a boyfriend this year and you thought Jean could help you find the perfect man, but apparently he loves to watch you suffer. If only you knew the perfect man for you was the one setting you up on all of these dates.
Notes: I posted this on my Ao3 first, but I thought I’d post it here too. So, please enjoy!
First Saturday
Another Saturday night meant another shitty date with another uninteresting and weird guy. You knew Jean hand-picked these dates that he sent you off with, but it seemed he didn’t know you or them at all. Every single date was just another bust, undeniably and irrefutably.
And, this date was just another on the already long list of bad dates.
“So,” Your date said with a smile, “You’re good friends with him, aren’t you?”
You nodded with the wine glass close to your lips. He had asked you the same question nearly fifteen times in the last fifteen minutes. It was as if he couldn’t believe it himself. As if he were surprised, or maybe even a little bit jealous.
“Yeah,” You said with a fake smile, “We’re in the same friend group. I met him freshman year, when I became close friends with Mikasa and she introduced us-”
“How is he?”
“Huh?”
The redhead smiled wide, “How is Eren? What’s he like as a friend?”
You raised your eyebrows and placed your glass back on the table, “Eren?”
The redhead nodded excitedly. He was nearly on the edge of his seat, leaning towards you like a child about to hear a war story from his grandfather. It was odd that the boy had gotten caught on the idea of Eren being friends with you when you had just explained how Jean was the one who set you up on the date.
“Eren is- um,” You looked around the small restaurant, trying to find inspiration for a way out of this conversation from the other diners, “He’s cool.”
The boy is physically upset about your discretion, “And?”
“And,” You involuntarily continued, “He’s- uh, he’s very nice. He-uh he helps me with my homework, and helps me study quite a bit.”
It was all a lie, but only partially. Sure, somebody in the friend group was really nice and helped you with homework and helped you study, but it wasn’t Eren. It was Armin who was the nice one, but you didn’t know Eren well enough not to switch the two names when talking with the boy in front of you.
“That’s awesome,” The redhead said with an admirational sigh, “I bet he’s super helpful. He’s definitely the type to not give up until you know everything, for sure.”
“Oh.” You grinned at your empty dinner plate. “For sure. He’s the best. He’s super dedicated, and he always makes the harder information easier for me to understand. He’ll word it in ways that he knows I’m more comfortable with.”
“I’ll have to join you two, sometime.”
You looked at the boy with furrowed eyebrows, “You want to join me and Eren while we study?”
Boy, is he going to be upset when he finds out Eren is actually an adorable blonde boy with big ocean eyes who’s not nearly as blatantly mean. Also, it’s a bit strange the redhead wants to go on a study date with you and somebody else. Isn’t he at this date for you? But, all he’s asked you about all night is Eren.
“Of course,” The boy said with a smile, “I would just love to see him again.”
You giggled lightly to yourself, “Do you want me to get his number for you?”
Though the comment was purely a joke, the boy didn’t flinch nor smile. He just stared at you with a look of defeat in his eyes and he almost looked angry. His eyes never left your face, his mind not finding an ounce of humor in your question.
His reaction caused your smile to quickly falter, “Do you actually have a crush on him?”
The redhead rose from his seat, “I have to use the bathroom.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, “Right now?”
“Yes,” The boy’s voice came out harsh, “Right now.”
“Oh, okay.” You watched as the boy walked off towards the bathroom. And, once he was out of earshot, you pulled your phone from your purse sitting on the back of the chair and phoned Jean.
The phone only rang once before the call was picked up. He spoke a half-assed greeting above the sound of yelling in the background. You knew he was with Connie and Sasha tonight and you knew they were playing video games from the noise coming from behind his voice.
“Don’t hey me,” You spat angrily through the phone, “This guy is insane, Jean, he’s fucking weird.”
Jean was now laughing, “How is he weird?”
“He keeps asking about Eren.” You took a quick peek at the male’s bathroom door. “He offered to go on a study date with me-”
“That’s nice of him.”
“-And Eren.”
“Oh,” Jean said, “That’s weird. Eren doesn’t even study with you, he’d have to be smarter than you to be of any help.”
“I may have lied to him.” You took a quick swig of wine from the glass and then turned back to the bathroom doors.
“Aw,” Jean said with a smirk, “Poor Floch.”
“Floch,” You said excitedly, nearly knocking the discarded fork from your plate, “That’s his name! I forgot it about two hours ago, but didn’t have the heart to ask him.”
Jean was uncontrollably laughing on the other side of the phone. It wasn’t like these types of calls were foriegn to him. You normally called Jean in the middle of a crisis, and most of your crises these days happened mid-date when the boy did something weird and left to go to the bathroom.
“You’re a horrible date,” Jean said between his giggles.
“It’s not a normal name.” You held the wine glass to your lips. “I wouldn’t have forgotten his name if it were Brian or Nick. It’s his mom’s fault I forgot his name.”
Jean smiled into the phone, “Now, you’re blaming his mom for your ignorance, how cruel.”
You couldn’t help but grin as well, “Also, I think he has a thing for Eren.”
“Really?” Jean takes a moment to remember something. “That actually makes a lot of sense. I met him through Eren because they were in the same chemistry class last semester. He seemed reluctant to go on the date with you until Eren told him he should, then he was all for it. I thought it was weird, but not weird enough to be concerning.”
“It’s not weird nor concerning,” You said sweetly, “He just has a crush and he doesn’t know how to deal with it, it’s endearing.”
“He’s actively homophobic.”
“What?” You peek at the bathrooms and notice nothing has changed. “You set me on a date with an active homophobe?”
Jean shrugged, “I didn’t think about it.”
You shook your head angrily, “After this date, I am coming straight to your apartment and I am giving you a piece of my mind, Jean Kirstein.”
“Oh no,” Jean said with a smile, “I’m really scared, she used my last name.”
“You should be really scared. I’m bringing my baseball bat and everything.”
You took another peek at the bathroom and then checked the timer on the call. Seven minutes and fourteen seconds was how long you had been on the phone with Jean and how long Floch had been in the bathroom. Sure, it could be reasonable, but you still got a weird feeling from the whole thing.
“‘You okay?” Jean asked endearingly once the silence between you two had settled.
“He’s coming back,” You lied, “I gotta’ go.”
“Okay, just-”
The call ended quickly with one press of your finger. You put your phone back in your purse and let the bag fall to the side of the chair. You looked around the beautiful restaurant and tapped your fingers impatiently against the clothed table.
You leaned to your side in order to get closer to the couple beside you. At the table sat two people: one with long brown hair and wide glasses dressed in a tux and the other with short dirty blonde hair also dressed in a tux.
“Hi,” You said to the brown haired person to your immediate right, “Could I ask a favor of either of you? It’ll only take a minute, I swear.”
The brown haired person smiled widely, “Of course!”
“My date, a redhead, went to the bathroom nearly twenty minutes ago, and I can’t go into the boy’s bathroom-”
“You want me to go?” The brown haired person’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I can go see if he’s still in there, or if he’s sick, or if he’s dead - God forbid, but how interesting, right?”
You nodded with a smile, “Yes, thank you, please. I’m sure he’s not dead, but I’m just worried.”
“Don’t worry until I come back with news.” The brown haired person stood up and left, heading towards the bathroom.
You watched the nice brown haired person go off towards the restrooms. You watched them weave around tables, even stopping now and then to peek over diners’ shoulders, looking at what they had decided to eat for the night. They were strange, but in an endearing way - something you weren’t entirely used to seeing on these dates.
“You know,” The blonde guy spoke up suddenly, snapping you back to reality, “They’ve done that a few times on our dates before, as well.”
“Hm?” You turned to the brown haired person’s date.
The blonde guy smiled, “My date, they get interested in something in the bathroom and don’t bother coming back out for half an hour. The first time is scary, but you’ll get used to their curious mind.”
You grinned weakly at the nice man, “Yeah, I have a feeling there won’t be anything to get used to because there won’t be another date.”
The blonde boy furrowed his eyebrows, “Oh?”
“He wasn’t the best date I’ve been on, nor the best person I’ve been on a date with.” You turned towards the bathroom in time to catch the blonde man’s date making their way back across the restaurant with a frown. “In fact, he’s the first date to ever crawl out of a bathroom window to get away from me.”
“I’m sure that’s not what happened,” The blonde man said with a worried glance at his date. You weren’t sure how you knew it, but you were entirely sure of the redhead’s escape.
“He’s gone, dear.” The brown haired person placed a gentle hand on your shoulder as they sat back in their seat. “The window was pried open, I assume he crawled out of it.”
You nodded with a fake smile, “Thank you, for checking. I can pay-”
You reached for your purse, but the brown haired person shook their head, “No, no. Don’t even try to pay me. In fact, let us pay for your meals, it’s the least we can do.”
You shook your head quickly, “No, I can pay for them, but thank you.”
“No, he left you high and dry and-”
“You’ve already done enough for me tonight.”
“-You don’t deserve to pay for a meal you didn’t even enjoy.”
While the brown haired person was distracting you with a back and forth battle of who would pay for what, the blonde man waved down a passing waiter. He mumbled something to the waiter, pointing at your table over his shoulder. The blonde man pushed a small plastic card into the waiter’s hand. The waiter nodded pityingly, running off quickly towards the hostess’s table at the entrance.
“No,” You said with another shake of your head, “You don’t have to pay for a taxi, I don’t need one-”
But, you did need one considering Floch was your ride here.
“No,” The brown haired person continued, “Let me pay for your wine. In fact, have our wine. It’s the least we can do.”
“No, I don’t need more wine-”
The waiter was back and the blonde man finally spoke up over the argument between you and his date. He held two slips of paper in his hand and looked at you both with a small smile.
“Hange,” He said to make his date stop debating with you, “It’s okay, she doesn’t need your insurance card. And, ma’am, don’t worry about the bill, it’s already been paid for, and you don’t owe me anything in return. I’ve been in your shoes before, and I wish somebody would have done this for me.”
“Sir,” You said quickly, “It’s really not that big of a deal-”
“Not anymore,” The blonde man said with a smile, “Next time you come to this restaurant, just bring somebody you trust. I promise, not everybody is as awful as that boy.”
You bit your lip to keep the newly created tears from falling. You couldn’t help the overload of emotions happening in your throat and eyes. You didn’t normally cry so easily in front of strangers, but these strangers were overly generous. And suddenly, you were remembering the last ten dates that all ended just as horribly. It seemed like nothing was working out in your favor anymore.
“Thank you,” You said with a large smile contradictory to the tears that now fell down your cheeks, “I-I don’t know where to find those not awful people, but I really hope I will someday.”
“Oh no!” Hange said as they quickly wrapped you in a tight hug. “Moblit, look, you broke her.”
Moblit giggled with a shake of his head, “I’m sorry I broke you, dear.”
You shook your head into Hange’s shoulder, accidentally wiping the tears on the shoulder of their black tux. You couldn’t express to Moblit how badly you wanted to find not awful people, and how badly you wanted a date that didn’t end horribly. It was just more complicated than that, and it seemed awful people were the only ones Jean could offer you dates with and the only ones he thought deserved dates with you. So, what did that say about how he viewed you as a person?
You spent a few minutes crying into Hange’s shoulder, mumbling incoherently about boys and school and your pot-smoking next door neighbors who are way too loud when they have sex. They listened to your tangent intently, nodding along, as if they could understand any of your words.
Once you had wiped the tears from your face and thanked the couple profusely some more, you made your way from the restaurant. You knew you could call a taxi to Jean’s apartment, but the weather was nice and his apartment wasn’t too far away. So, walking seemed like a convenient money-saving way of getting the whole date out of your mind.
You walked down the street of town, but once you got to campus, you slid the heels from your feet and into your hands. You walked across campus with your shoes balancing on your fingers like the morning after a horrible one-night stand.
Eventually you made it to Jean’s apartment building and found your way to his front door within a few minutes. You knocked on the wood with your heel and weren’t too surprised when the door opened almost immediately. Jean stood in the doorway, still shouting at the other two over his shoulder.
“Hey,” Jean said once he finally turned his attention to you, “How was the-” You swung the heel swiftly into his stomach, earning a surprised grunt from the boy.
“Don’t mention this date ever again.” You said the threatening words with a glint of anger to your voice, but your face was pressed into a sweet smile.
Jean nodded slowly, “Will you at least tell us what happened?”
You sighed, “Later, I’ll tell you, but I know Connie will bully me for it.”
Jean nodded some more, “Later?”
“The least you can do is let me stay the night.” You raised your eyebrows at the boy. “Since you made me go on the worst date of my life with a homophobic jerk.”
“Okay,” Jean said with a grin, “But only because you’re practically begging for me.”
You swung the heel into his stomach a second time, but he grabbed it before it could give any damage. You both looked intently at each other, your eyes glaring annoyedly and his eyes admiring the sight in front of him. This was exactly what you expected from him, this is exactly how he acts after these dates. He’s always the one to pick up and put back the broken pieces once the doll breaks, even if he’s the reason the doll fell in the first place.
Once you walked into the apartment, you left your shoes and purse by the door, right beside Jean’s shoes. You waved a quick hello to Connie and Sasha - who were too distracted shooting zombies to see you - as you walked past them in the living room and found your way straight to Jean’s room. You knew the apartment like the back of your hand, you had been here a million times.
You walked across the small room to your drawer that Jean keeps all of your clothes in for when you stay. You pulled it open and picked out a pair of cheetah print pajama shorts and an old t-shirt from an now irrelevant ex boyfriend. You threw the clothes on his bed, getting ready to change just when the door suddenly opened.
You turned to the door with tired eyes and furrowed eyebrows as Jean joined you in the room. He leaned against the now closed door, physically keeping the others from joining as well. He crossed his arms against his chest, taking in the sight of him - you in your satin black dress you wore on nearly every date.
“So,” Jean said finally, “What happened?”
You sighed, “He crawled through a window.”
Jean’s eyebrows furrowed, “He crawled through a window?”
“Yes, when he went to the bathroom and I called you. He crawled through a window to get away from me.” You looked anywhere around the room but the boy. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Hey,” Jean moved from the door, coming across the room to you, “Nothing’s wrong with you. Something’s wrong with him.” Jean held you at arm’s length, his hands on your shoulders. “Not only did he leave you, but he has a crush on Eren of all people. I’ve seen birds at the park who are more attractive than he is.”
You grinned sadly, “I bet people don’t crawl through windows to get away from Eren on dates.”
Jean ran his hand down the side of your head, “Eren doesn’t give them the chance, I don’t think he’s ever been on a date.”
“But, people would go on one with him.” You finally looked up at the boy in front of you, trying to keep the tears from spilling the second time today. “He’s not undateable. I’m undateable. I’ve scared guys away every Saturday night for the last two months.”
“You’re not undateable,” Jean said sternly, “You just haven’t found the right one. And, you won’t find the right one if you don’t keep going on these dates. Every horrible date means you’re one more Saturday closer to your soulmate.”
“And, what if I don’t have a soulmate? What if I’m damned to die alone?”
“Then, I’ll die with you.” Jean brought you in for a tight hug, your face snuggling into his firm chest. Jean whispered his words, mostly to himself, “I’d give up 200 soulmates if it only meant I could die with you.”
You closed your eyes against the soft fabric of Jean’s shirt. It was hard to trust his words when there seemed to be so many contradicting factors. Maybe tonight was a total bust, but next Saturday was a new day. You could try again next Saturday, and the Saturday after that, and the Saturday after that. And, every Saturday for the rest of your life until you found your soulmate, even if that seemed like a pointless mission.
You’d do it for both you and Jean, it was the least you could do.
First Sunday
You woke up in Jean’s bed with his body close to yours. It was a standard cuddling position for your friendship: face-to-face, his arms wrapped around your side, your arms cradled against your chest, and your legs intertwined. Despite the normalcy associated with the position, you still woke up with a dorky smile and butterflies floating around your stomach when you saw him sleeping in front of you.
Today was no exception.
You grinned ear to ear as you watched the peaceful rise and fall of Jean’s tanned chest under the thin fabric of his white t-shirt. You watched as his lips parted against the pressure of the pillow under his cheek, a small stream of spit rolling from the corner of his mouth and onto the fabric of the pillowcase below. Every Saturday night ended with tears and regrets, but every Sunday morning began with sweet dreams and a special sleepy boy.
You turned away from Jean, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. The only way to successfully grab the phone was to also pull yourself from Jean’s grasp and from between his legs. It was a horrible price to be paid, but it had to be paid nonetheless.
You checked your lock screen, reading over playful messages from your roommate asking about how good Floch was in bed - assuming you had stayed at his house since you hadn’t come home. And, a few confused messages from Eren asking you who Floch was, why he was texting him, and how he was connected to you.
You locked the phone and turned back to Jean. You were expecting the boy to still be napping peacefully, but he instead stared sleepily at you. Your face had been in a grimace from the mentions of your date last night, but Jean’s honey brown eyes quickly dissipated any negative feelings.
“Good morning,” You whispered, “Did you sleep well?”
“Good morning,” Jean said as he shifted his head and wiped the spit from the corner of his mouth. He was hoping you hadn’t noticed the wetness and that you weren’t questioning the wiping motion he made at his cheek. “And I-”
You smiled, “From the drool spot on the pillowcase, I’ll have to assume you slept well.”
Jean’s cheeks turned rosy, you could see the physical embarrassment on his face. He wasn’t the type to accept humiliation so easily, he was always one to fight back. Just his humiliation isn’t enough, if he’s going down, he’s taking as many people he can take with him. So, you weren’t sure why you were surprised when he swiftly sat up, grabbed the pillow, and attempted to shove the wet spot into your face.
You yelped, rolled, and sprung from the bed only a second before the pillow could land on your cheek, right where it was heading. You were up on your feet quicker than you ever thought you could be, your body still feeling the aftereffects of sleep. You looked down at the boy in front of you, the pillow still tightly gripped in his hands and a mischievous smile smacked across his face.
“You little bastard,” You said with a shocked smile.
Jean smiled back, “I’m actually quite big.” The words were meant as a joke about his body’s size, but both of your dirty minds immediately jumped to the size of something else on his body. “In more ways than one.”
You shouted at the boy between the giggles escaping from your throat, “Jean! Seriously!”
Jean shrugged, laughing along at his own joke, “I’m sorry, I had to!”
“You didn’t have to do shit!” You made your way to the bedroom door. “I’m going home!”
“One bad joke and now you’re leaving.” Jean leaped from the bed, following you to the door. “At least let me make you breakfast first.”
You turned to him with an intrigued glint in your eyes, “Will you make me waffles?”
“Sure,” Jean said as he playfully shoved your shoulder, “I’ll make you waffles.”
“With chocolate chips?” He walked in front of you, leaving the room with you following behind him like a child.
“Yes, I can add chocolate chips.” Jean tried to hide the grin spreading across his cheeks. “Do you want bacon and sausage as well?”
“Shut up,” You said from behind his back, “You know that I don’t.”
His voice sounded sweet, “Yeah, I do know.”
You stood against the counter, only a foot away from where he stirred the waffle mix. You watched as he eyed the waffle box intently, then poured the four other ingredients into the bowl after the dry mix. He looked a bit confused as he moved the spoon around the bowl, as if he was deathly afraid of missing something but not wanting to give the impression that he’d be stupid enough to miss something.
You knew where the coffee was kept and how to work his coffee machine and while you waited for it to brew, you watched Jean with a weak smile across your face. He could feel your eyes on him. Jean tried to ignore the weight of your eyes, not wanting his cheeks to go red though his chest was already inflating from the action.
Jean spared a glance in your direction, only a few seconds before the coffee finished brewing with a loud splash. For those few seconds when both of your eyes were held on each other, time seemed to slow. You could read the admirational glint in his brown eyes and he could read the appreciative glint in your eyes. Before the moment could go much further, you turned away and grabbed the coffee pot and mugs.
You not only knew which coffee beans Jean preferred, but you also knew how he liked his coffee. You poured a little bit of his roommate’s creamer into his mug, and then the tiniest bit of sugar as well. After the coffee was finished, you handed him the mug with a quick smile.
Waffles eventually found themselves on plates and forks eventually found themselves in between fingers. You both ate breakfast against the kitchen counter, Jean leaning down farther than you had to. You moved your fork against the softness of the slightly underdone waffles - he didn’t know just how much batter was supposed to go into the waffle maker at once.
Jean suddenly spoke up by your side, “Are you free this Saturday?”
You turned to the boy, “I normally am. Who’s next?”
“I have a friend on the football team.” Jean ignored your initial grimace to the statement. “He’s nice and desperate, the way you like ‘em.”
You turned back to your waffle with a small pout, “Maybe I should give guys a break for a little.” Jean raised an eyebrow at you. “I’ll just become a nun and write off men altogether.”
“You can’t do that!”
Your head snapped back to Jean, “I can’t?”
“No,” Jean said, “You can’t.”
“And, why can’t I?”
“You just can’t.”
A thick silence had settled in the room, the only sound being the scraping of forks against the porcelain plates. You wondered why Jean was against you becoming a nun. You assumed it was because he was the type to fight persistently, so possibly the idea of giving up on something indefinitely was foreign and upsetting to him. You knew he indirectly reflected onto other people, yourself included.
After a few more moments of silence, Jean started walking away. You watched him as he moved across the living room, heading straight towards his bedroom. Right before the boy could get to the door, he turned to you with a single raised eyebrow and a cocky grin.
“Hey,” Jean said from across the room, “Do you wanna go to the bathroom before I do?”
You looked around the kitchen with a confused look on your face, as if the apartment could give you any clue as to what he was implying with his words. You didn’t have to use the bathroom, nor did you ever insinuate within the last twenty minutes that you did.
You tilted your head curiously, “Why would I need to go to the bathroom before you?”
Jean smiled at the idea of his next words, already proud of himself, “Just to make sure I can’t crawl out through the window.”
Jean laughed as you pretended to throw your fork across the spacious apartment. He was proud of his joke, and you had to admit that you weren’t as upset as you should have been. Last night, the idea of your date crawling through a window in order to get away from you was the worst thing that had ever happened. But with Jean, it was just a funny memory.
Jean came back to the kitchen after a few moments, still giggling lightly about his joke he made nearly two whole minutes ago. You ignored his cockiness by trying to fight the smile forming on your face.
Jean leaned towards you, wrapping a muscled arm around your shoulders. Being pressed against his body in this way made you now realize how he smelled. He smelled of a rich cologne of rose and mahogany. You hadn’t noticed the cologne before he left for the bathroom, but it could have very well slipped past you.
Jean spoke from above you, “I’m glad you aren’t still upset about last night.”
“I never said that.” You looked up at the boy, his arm still around you. “But, I am starting to see the humor in the situation.”
“Good,” Jean said with a smile, “It’s not nearly as bad as that guy who asked if his mom could join you for the date.”
You cringed at the thought, “And, I said yes.”
“And, the one who asked for a vial of your blood.”
You shrugged at the taller boy, “At least he asked, there was the one guy who stole my hair scrunchie without asking first. I think he used it so he could clone me.”
“Yeah.” Jean quickly remembered another awful date. “And, the one who gave you a yarn doll of yourself as a first date gift.”
You smiled widely, “I’m nearly a hundred percent sure that it was actually a Voodoo doll. I’m glad I accepted it before I told him no to a second date.”
Jean grinned down at you, only an inch or two from your face. It was hard not to smile when looking at the boy. He was beautiful and reminded you of an ancient sun god. From his tanned skin, to his lively brown eyes, and his deeply inviting smile. It was hard to look at Jean and not feel your heart skip a beat, especially when you were so close to him.
“They’re all funny stories now,” Jean said, “So, that’s good.”
You moved deeper into his arm, “Funny stories that I don’t need.”
“But, funny stories nonetheless.”
“Yeah,” You mumbled sarcastically, “Thanks to you.”
“Hey!” Jean was pulling you into a quick bear hug as you laughed against his chest. “I try to find the University’s best guys for you! They are truly the school’s finest.”
“Then, why do they all suck?”
He didn’t answer your question because he wasn’t sure he knew why. He didn’t know why he threw these horrible guys onto you, under the impression of them being good matches. But, in his defense, it was hard to find somebody of your quality.
You were a goddess amongst mortals and these men could never be enough for you. And, if these men were mortals compared to you, then Jean felt he wasn’t even a mortal. He was the dirt hiding in the crevices of somebody’s shoe, he was the dust somebody breathed in before they yawned. Jean felt he could never equal up to you, but maybe these other guys could get close. And, maybe - just maybe - if he helps you get a boyfriend, then he wouldn’t think about you being a goddess so much.
Next Chapter
Creature: a person who commits a series of murders, often with no apparent motive and typically following a characteristic, predictable behavior pattern.
Warnings: Major Character Death, Mentions of Drugging and Alcohol, Dry Humping
Quick Summary: while attending a friend’s Halloween party, you stay with a friendly face all night.
Extra notes: One more day until Halloween!
You never understood why people decided to party so much for Halloween. Hadn’t they watched a single scary movie, every time a serial killer shows up, there’s always a party involved. It’s as if the murderers could sniff out alcohol and hormones and was already on their way there, ready to murder somebody discreetly in the garage door when she goes out to get more to drink.
You weren’t stupid though. When you got invited to Hitch’s Halloween party, you assessed your options; either go to the party and get your guts displayed for your entire friend group, or go to the party and stick with somebody you trust so you don’t end up on an episode of Dateline. As smart as you are, not going to the party just wasn’t an option, Hitch was depending on you.
You met Hitch freshman year of college after having the great misfortune of being her partner for Chemistry 151. You didn’t know anything about prevalent bonds and she didn’t know anything about the periodic table, so you both depended on each other and surprisingly made it out of the class with a B.
But, unfortunately for you, Hitch started depending on you for more than just classes after that. She started using you as her alibi when she was going out with somebody for the night and wouldn’t be back at her parent’s house until 2 am. And, she started begging you to bring her snacks when she was bored in class and having meals with her whenever she was lonely. And, worst of all, every time Hitch threw a party, she always depended on you to provide the alcohol despite having her own license with an age over 21 on it - sure, it wasn’t real, but it was still a license that said she could drink.
So, if you said no to going to this Halloween party, you would not only lose Hitch’s friendship but a whole house of people’s friendship because you’re the reason the party turned into a dry one. You would force an entire group of college students to not drink for a weekend, and that’s a crime you can never be forgiven of.
Getting the alcohol was the easy part, honestly. You drove over to Hitch’s house with it clanking around in your backseat and trunk. Once you pulled into Hitch’s driveway, it was as if the partygoers could smell the vodka from your car. They all erupted from the front of Hitch’s house with their hands above their heads in victory as the alcohol was finally secured for the party.
So early in the night, only a few close friends were at Hitch’s house already. The current guest list consisted mostly of friends from Hitch’s high school and friends from her dorm building freshman year, before she moved back in with her parents.
The excited group all took turns bringing the boxes of alcohol into the house as you V-lined to Hitch. You walked through the group, moving through them like water as they kept their focus on the bottles in your car. They didn’t care much about who the messenger was, as long as they could get drunk tonight.
“Hey,” You said to Hitch once you were finally within ear shot, “Here’s the change.”
Hitch took the leftover money from your hand, “Thanks, I always know I can count on you.” Hitch came in for a hug, wrapping her arms around you. She pushed her mouth into your ear, whispering lightly to you, “But, please tell me that is not your costume.”
“What?” You moved back from Hitch quickly, gesturing towards your body. “What’s wrong with my costume? I’m Princess Diana.”
Hitch blinked at you, “You’re gonna have to explain that to people all night long, I hope you realize that.” She took another look at your outfit and then back at your face. “That’s just everyday clothes! You’re just wearing a sweatshirt and biker shorts, that doesn’t scream Princess Diana, a crown screams Princess Diana!”
“She was the people’s princess,” You yelled at your friend, “And, I don’t have any more costumes on me, I don’t know why you thought now was the perfect time to hate my costume.”
“That’s fine. I have extra costumes upstairs, let me choose what you are tonight.” Hitch grabbed your hand and led you towards the front door. “I still have to change anyway, so we’ll change together.”
You should’ve assumed Hitch only had short skirts and short shirts up here. And, you should’ve assumed she would put you in some ridiculously skanky costume that was too sexy to really be one costume. When you put the outfit on - a gray skirt, a gray shirt, and big ears - your immediate thought was a cat. You looked like a normal little gray kitten, but after you told Hitch your guess, she almost physically smacked you for guessing so wrongly.
“You’re a fucking mouse,” Hitch said with a roll of her eyes, “How dense can you be?”
“Well, I don’t look like a mouse.”
“A cat,” Hitch mumbled to herself, “What am I, a cat, I guess you were close, but wow, you’d think you’d know your animals.”
“I do know my animals.” You gestured aggressively towards your costume. “But no animal ever wore this.”
“Whatever.” Hitch walked towards you, and towards the door. “I’ll see you downstairs, okay?” With one last swoosh of the white skirt of her sexy angel costume, she was gone and you were alone in her bedroom.
You were back to step one, find a trustworthy buddy for the night. Hitch, as much as you loved her, was the poster child for the dumb girl who dies first in a slasher film. And, you thought maybe Jean or Eren could protect you throughout the night, but they were definitely the jock stereotype in the horror movie. And, with Armin being the nerd, Sasha and Connie being the stoners, you only had two real choices left; Mikasa and Reiner.
But, Mikasa was hard to keep by your side at these events. She was always running around the house, from the kitchen to the bathroom, taking care of everyone but herself. She was the perfect final girl, the one who surprisingly made it out at the end, but you weren’t sure Mikasa would actually want to be alive without Eren who would definitely die once he got caught pissing on a tree out back.
So, your only real option of safety was Reiner. Sure, he fit perfectly into the Jock stereotype - hell he even looked like Chris Hemsworth’s little brother from when he played Curt in The Cabin in the Woods. But, Reiner was different from that stereotypical Jock persona. He was kind and gentle and he always made sure you were okay when you saw him, he was just too nice to be a real jock.
Once you left Hitch’s room, shutting the door behind you to keep out the other partiers, you walked slowly down the stairs, scoping the place out. Your eyes moved over the now full house, watching people dance, and talk, and drink from red solo cups as they moved back and forth between Hitch’s kitchen and living room. You slowly noticed where all of your friends were, hoping that fact in itself would hint to where Reiner was.
Your eyes jolted across the house just as you reached the end of the stairs. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you realized you were right in the heat of the party and you hadn’t found your buddy yet. You needed Reiner to keep you safe, you needed Reiner to protect you with his big arms that could hurt any serial killer who might want you dead, you needed-
“Reiner,” You said as the blonde boy took off his mask right in front of you, “I didn’t realize that was you until now - which I guess makes sense since you were wearing a mask.”
Reiner smiled at you, “Yeah, sorry, it’s just too hot in here for a mask, but you looked afraid. Are you okay?”
He must’ve noticed the slow way you walked down the stairs, and how you looked all over the room. He must’ve noticed the way your hand gripped onto the railing as tightly as possible, as if the wood could somehow balance or even ground you to Earth. Reiner noticed everything, from your unnaturally wide eyes to that extra huff you took before almost giving up on finding him - and from that fact, you were certain, Reiner was just too observant to be the Jock in this horror story.
“I’m fine,” You partially lied, though Reiner made you feel better, your heart hadn’t stopped beating so quickly and your gut hurt from anxiety.
Reiner smiled wide at you, “Great, I’m glad to hear it. Would you like something to drink though?”
“Yeah.” You gave Reiner a weak grin. “I’d love one.”
You walked with Reiner through the piles of people, holding his hand to keep yourself from getting lost. Reiner’s hand was cold and calloused against yours, and he held your palm with a bit of force. After you both made your way into the kitchen, you had to rub the sore muscles now present in your palm from Reiner’s rough touch.
You watched as Reiner made you a drink, pouring corresponding liquids all into a red solo cup. You watched Reiner more than you watched his pouring, he was just too pretty not to look at. You watched as Reiner furrowed his eyebrows at the bottles of tequila, unsure of how much he already put in and how much should be put in for the drink to taste good. Once Reiner finished concocting his masterpiece, he shrugged and handed it to you with a smile.
It was awfully ironic how safe you felt in Reiner’s presence. His costume wasn’t some random outfit, but rather Ghostface from the Scream movies. You had a horrible feeling that tonight was going to end in bloodshed, and if you’ve learned anything from horror movies it was to never trust anyone. But, somehow the only person in the entire house that you felt comfortable with was dressed as your greatest enemy, a heartless serial killer.
You took a timid sip from the plastic cup, the drink was definitely something, that’s for sure. You could taste an aggressive amount of pineapple tequila and lemonade, and despite the rancid smell, the taste wasn’t awful. The liquid moved down your throat, and left a burning trail behind it causing you to jolt forward with a cough.
“Oh no,” Reiner said through a fit of laughter, “Is it that bad?”
You shook your head, “It’s good.” Reiner laughed even harder at your voice, realizing just how high it got in a poor attempt to lie to his face. You weren’t technically lying though, the drink wasn’t the best one you’ve ever had but it wasn’t awful either, it just seemed like Reiner added too much alcohol and didn’t choose flavors that complimented each other well.
“You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met.” Reiner took the cup from your hand and set it on the table where the tequila bottles were all lined up to be chosen from. “But, let me make it up to you. How about, for the next hour, I’ll do whatever you want me to do - sounds good?”
You couldn’t hide the obvious embarrassment on your face as your mind dropped into the gutters. How dirty minded did you have to be to think your close friend’s innocent request could have some sexual undertones. This was Reiner you were talking about, not somebody who would so stupidly hit on you this way, like Eren or even Jean. Reiner was too nice to hit on anyone with such a bizarre idea.
“Okay,” You spoke softly, afraid to answer too quickly and to reveal your excitement from having that much control over Reiner.
“So,” Reiner said with raised eyebrows, “What do you say I do first?”
“Dance with me.” The words came from your mouth before you could think through your options. You could’ve made the boy do anything, and you decided dancing was what you wanted. And, Reiner was definitely just as confused as you were by your words, he furrowed his eyebrows at you, and repeated your request back at you.
“Dance with you?” Reiner said slowly, “That’s all you want - you want me to dance with you?”
“Well, how many chances do I get? Can I choose just one thing for you to do, or do I get multiple chances?”
Reiner grinned as he quietly thought to himself. You couldn’t help but admire his features in his state of pure focus; the way his hazel eyes gilted around the room, the way his hair in it’s messy state from the mask actually looked so much better now than ever, and the way his index finger theatrically rubbed against his jawline where he held his thumb and finger against his chin. He was a sight for sore eyes, and you had to admit you always had a little bit of a crush on the boy - maybe that’s why you gravitated towards him at the beginning of the party, and it really had nothing to do with horror film stereotypes and feeling safe around him.
And, to be fair, you were being a little crazy to actually think there’s some sociopathic asshole who was planning on using the party as a hunting ground. You were getting too into the Halloween spirit, it seemed.
“Okay,” Reiner suddenly said once he finally decided, “I accept - I’ll give you three chances, how about that?”
You smiled at Reiner, “Alright, go make me a new - better! - drink and then meet me on the dancefloor.”
“Okay. But, you still have one more chance after those though.”
“Um,” You said as you poorly attempted to hide your grin, “I’d like to save that one for later in the night.” Reiner raised a single eyebrow at you. “Oh, shut up! I didn’t mean it like that!”
But, that was a lie - you very much meant it like that.
After Reiner walked away to make you a new, and better, drink, you went to your new meeting spot with him on the dancefloor. You walked through the bodies of college students all dancing together. It wasn’t surprising how close the people were dancing to one another, but the close proximity had your mind racing with everything you’ve ever learned from horror films. You were safest here, the killer would never be dumb enough to strike in such a large group of people.
Every horror movie you’ve ever seen always pushed the idea to stay together, and never split away from others because right when you do, it’s over. So, if your gut feeling of something bad happening tonight, you knew it at least wouldn’t happen to you, because you were smarter than these other partygoers - you knew everything about slasher films and the serial killers from them.
You looked all around the dancefloor, not looking at the people’s faces but rather their bodies. You watched where their hands were going and moving, you watched their fingers as they moved them over other people’s bodies. Even if slasher films failed you tonight and somebody did get murdered within the masses, you still knew killers always used knives for some reason so as long as their hands were occupied on bodies, then they weren’t focusing on stabbing somebody. And, if nobody was getting stabbed, that meant you were safe.
“Hey,” You heard the word right as a hand landed on your shoulder.
You jumped from the sudden touch, pulling your head from the dark place it was entering. This nervous feeling of something bad happening tonight was driving you insane all night long. You couldn’t even enjoy the party around you because you were too busy thinking of your next move and your possible escape plan.
“Reiner.” You turned around while rubbing your forehead, trying to alleviate the growing headache. “You scared the shit out of me, give me a warning next time.”
“And,” Reiner said through laughter, “What should I do to warn you in the middle of a dance floor of people? Punch you? Push you? Stab you?”
Your eyes bolted to Reiner’s eyes, “Stab me?”
Reiner tilted his head at you, he was no longer smiling. You realize now he meant the whole stabbing thing as a joke, probably because he was dressed up as Ghostface, but your heart was racing again. Being so close to people was activating your fight or flight, and you felt like running - you’ve only admired horror films, you didn’t want to live in one. But being in this house, and being around these people were making you feel like the main character of one.
“Hey,” Reiner said softly, “You look like you’re going to be sick, why don’t we step outside really quickly, okay?”
You nodded slowly, “Yeah, I’d like that.”
You held Reiner’s hand as he led you outside. You briefly saw as Reiner set your plastic cup down, either on some random table or given to some random partier, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t see much as you moved through the living room, kitchen, down the back porch and to the side of the house where the smokers were hanging out.
Right as the cold air hit your skin, you felt better. Your headache was beginning to disappear or become tolerable at least, and Reiner stood by your side the whole time. He watched as you leaned against the side of the house, taking deep breaths and gripping the bricks to ignore your still rapidly pounding heart.
“Are you feeling better,” Reiner asked gently.
You nodded, “Yes, a lot better - thank you.”
“Of course.” Your eyes were closed, but you felt as Reiner pushed some of your fallen hair behind your ear to see your face clearer. “You know, you still have one more chance.”
You glanced at Reiner from the corner of your eye, “Oh, I do?”
“Yes. If you want to make me do something else, it’s up to you.”
Your mouth broke out into a ridiculous grin as you weighed your options. You knew what you wanted to make Reiner do, it’s what you wanted to do to him for so long now, but should you? What if Reiner didn’t want to do it?
You glanced at Reiner again, now seeing what his eyes were so focused on. His hazel eyes were hard with desire, and they were fixated on your face - specifically, your lips. He watched with pleasure as your grin disappeared and was replaced by your teeth digging into your bottom lip. You were being stupid by thinking that he didn’t want what you wanted, and part of you always knew he did.
“Okay,” You whispered, “I’ve decided - I want you to kiss me.”
Reiner’s eyes flashed to your own eyes, “Really? I had no-”
“Just shut up and kiss me.”
Reiner laughed before moving towards you. He placed his hand gently on your cheek before leaning in for a peck. The kiss was weak enough to make you audibly groan against Reiner’s mouth for more. This wasn’t the kiss you were expecting from him, you wanted passion and desperation, not middle school friends kissing for practice in their bedroom at 2 am.
“How about we play a game?” Reiner said with a mischievous grin.
You furrowed your eyebrows at his words, “What kind of game?”
“I gave you three chances, so you give me three.” Reiner gave you a second quick peck. “I now get to make you do three things.”
“One.”
“Two.”
You smiled at Reiner, “One and a half.”
“A half?” Reiner raised his eyebrows at you. “What does that mean?”
“The half can be something we agree on - and then you can have that one all for yourself, does that sound like a deal?”
Reiner nodded, “What do you think the half should be?”
You were suddenly aware of how cold you were, unsurprisingly the short skirt and crop top weren’t the most ideal October night clothing. Your teeth chattering quietly together, and your arms decorated themselves with goosebumps. You needed some kind of warmth without going back inside, so maybe Reiner could help with that.
“Be my blanket?” Your words came out only slightly interrupted by clattering teeth.
Reiner grinned, “That’s one way to word it, but okay, that’ll be the half chance.”
Reiner leaned on you, holding you against the wall with his body. The new position had you staring into his hazel eyes, and you realized they weren’t as soft as you always remembered. But, the new position was perfect for kissing, in fact your lips were already back on his as desire took over your body. This was the kiss you wanted when you had him kiss you, finally you were getting what you wanted.
Reiner slid his leg between your knees, then pressed his thigh between your legs. The touch was driving you crazy, you tried to move him closer to your body. You wrapped your arms around his torso and to his back, you dug your fingernails into the black cloak of his Ghostface costume, gripping it to pull him closer to you. You felt something hard press into your thigh and you were honestly amazed by how quickly you could get Reiner hard, it almost made you laugh.
“Reiner,” You moaned out as you pressed into him, “Give me more, please.”
“Don’t be impatient,” Reiner whispered before kissing down your neck.
“But, I want more, please.”
“You want more?” You nodded quickly as Reiner kissed back up to your ear. “But, it’s my turn to tell you what to do, remember?”
“But, Reiner-”
“And, I’ve decided what I want you to do for me,” Reiner whispered against the shell of your ear as the hardness against your leg actually began to hurt, “I want you to scream for me.”
“What?”
Reiner moved back and smiled down at you, for a second you could no longer feel that hardness in your thigh before there was a quick flash of silver. You realized too late that the silver was a knife, and you were too stuck between the wall and Reiner’s body to properly get away. Reiner pushed the knife forward, and you felt the pain explode throughout your entire body as it lodged itself in your chest.
One last scream erupted from your throat as a desperate attempt to get you some help before dying here alone. But, you knew how big this house was, how far away from everyone you were at the moment, how loud the music had been inside, and how loud everyone was yelling the lyrics to some stupid song - you knew they’d never hear you, nobody could save you, Hell even horror films couldn’t save you.
Ahh, everyone say “happy one-month birthday” to my page! 🥳 I know it hasn’t been long, but I am so happy I decided to start this page and posting my works in general! Thank you for all of your support and here is to many more birthdays on this page! ❤️
Okay, you’ve convinced me, time to write some Connie porn...
connie takes a break during sex to eat two flintstone gummies bc he thinks they give him extra power
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.
they're saving my life