"Jean!"

You shriek, giggling as you examine the flour dusted handprint on your butt after Jean playfully delivered a harsh smack to your ass in the middle of the kitchen, where the two of you were busy making cupcakes.

"We just moved in, gonna make a mess of the place already!" You teased, as you fling some of the batter off of your whisk, aiming it at your boyfriend in the name of revenge.

"Oh, so you wanna play dirty, huh?"

He smirks, wiping the gooey substance off of his face and chest before grabbing the bowl of whipped eggs, saunter over to you menacingly.

"J-Jean...don't you dare! Stay back!"

You squeal, taking off behind the other side of the counter as he deftly chases you after you with egg stained hands.

You scream as he grabs you from behind, your best attempt at escape was useless for someone like him— a fit of laughter erupts as he tickles you, slimy egg smearing all over the exposed skin of your torso.

Without a moments hesitation, he hoists you up onto the counter, taking place between your legs. He's so handsome like this, despite the mess you've made of him. Smiling, you notice a bit of batter stuck to the tip of his nose— cupping his cheek softly with the palm of your hand, you wipe at it with the other.

"You missed a spot."

You tease, to which he simply smirks— scooping a bit of frosting out of the jar with the pad of his thumb, swiping it across the bottom of your plush lips.

"So did you."

He kisses you passionately, sucking every last bit of the sugary treat off of your lips— hands gripping tightly onto your hips as he grinds himself against you, his prominent erection pressing into the supple flesh of your thigh.

"Fuckin' love you."

He groans, opened mouthed kisses being placed all over your face, neck, chest; anywhere that he possibly could— the cupcakes long forgotten, as he now had a taste for something sweeter.

"Fuckin' love you, too."

~

Sasha calls out, crumbs of chocolate cupcake falling from her lips as she snaps her fingers, trying to bring you out of your memory induced haze.

"Oh, sorry."

You force a smile in Sasha's direction, though you can't help but mourn the memories for your broken relationship. When had it all gone so sour? How did you go from happily baking cupcakes in the kitchen, to torturous screaming matches in the living room?

"You sure you're okay?" She asks, handing you a cupcake in attempts to make you feel better.

"Not really, no." You hesitantly admit, taking a lick of the deliciously smooth chocolate frosting.

There were so many emotions you were feeling. for Jean; Love for Jean. with Eren; Lust for Eren.

It made your head spin, dizzy with the uncertainty of where your heart truly lies. You know things with Jean are shit— but at the same time, you don't know if you're quite ready to let go of years worth of history. At the same time, things with Eren are so new, so exciting— it's a much different feeling when you're with him; almost indescribable.

"Well if you wanna talk about it, I'm here." Sasha remarks, popping her chocolate coated fingers in her mouth as she sucks off the remainder on each one.

"Thanks Sash."

You pull out your phone, carefully eyeing the two text messages you received just hours before. You had only responded to one of them, the other being left on read. Maybe you should've replied to both... or maybe you shouldn't have replied at all— regardless, there wasn't any point in dwelling on it. Especially when you were—

"Shit, I'm late for my shift. Mr. Ackerman's gonna kill me." You groan, shooting your out of your seat frantically as you bolt over to your bag, grabbing a pair of clothes to throw on your body. You do your best to freshen up, fixing your hair and brushing your teeth as quickly as your can— you manage to look decently presentable, hardly compatible with Mr. Ackerman's standards, though.

It'll have to do.

"Bye Sash!" You yell, swiftly running out the door— doubling back to give her a kiss on the cheek before making your final exit.

"Y/n, you're late."

The intimidating, spine tingling glare from Professor Ackerman made you want to run crumble into dust at his feet, which were housed in exuberantly clean dressed shoes. Always in tip top shape— black locks hung loosely over equally darkened eyes, shielding his handsome face just ever so slightly.

Don't let his smaller stature fool you, Levi Ackerman oozed power and authority; to be at the receiving end of his indignation was basically a death sentence, yet... here you were— prepared to deliver your final goodbyes.

"I'm so sorry Mr. Ackerman... I didn't get much sleep last night, my head's—"

"Save it."

He holds a perfectly manicured hand out in front of your face to silence you, almost close enough to brush it's tips against your trembling bottom lip.

"This is your first and final warning, miss L/n. Don't let it happen again."

"Yes, of course. Thank you, sir."

"Those shelves over there in the back corner need to be cleaned and re-stocked. Please, get started." His deeply toned voice commanded your submission without a moments hesitation, as you took your place to where he's guided you.

Surprisingly, you actually liked working at the campus bookstore. You only worked every other weekend for some extra cash in your pocket, but it was a nice change of pace from your drab schedule of going to class, then coming home to either argue or actually enjoy your time with Jean— unfortunately, you never knew which one it would be until it was too late.

It was usually calm in the store, most college students were fairly busy on the weekends with whatever shenanigans they had planned for the day— it was just you and Mr. Ackerman, who was typically less than enthusiastic about having to spend his spare time running the bookstore when he had papers to grade (and students to fail) for his history class.

"Excuse me, do you know where I can find this statistics text book?"

That voice; just hearing it alone was enough to send the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. It was soft spoken, polite... it was—

"Armin?"

Standing up, you turned around, startled to find a pair of bright blue eyes peeking teasingly through strands of sandy blonde hair.

"Oh, hey y/n. I didn't know you worked here."

The young man smiled at you sweetly, pink lips glistening as he wet them with a subtle swipe of his tongue.

"Yeah, I'm here every other weekend." You respond, gripping the stack of books in your hand nervously as the awkwardness ensues. This wasn't just a friend you were catching up with— this was a man who came on your back in the middle of a threesome... if you could even call it that.

Regardless, Armin didn't seem bothered by the fact, unless the faint blush that pricked at his boyish, chubby cheeks was any indication.

"Um—"

He held out the paper he was grasping tightly in his hands, a list of materials he needed for his next semester of classes.

"Oh, right. Sorry."

You smiled awkwardly, taking the page from his hand and scanning over it quickly, before disappearing behind a shelf.

You held the book out for him to reach, when his fingers delicately brush against yours amidst the exchange— your body heats up at the contact, memories of the time you shared immediately causing your heart to beat faster; out of embarrassment? Nervousness or lust? You weren't entirely sure. Maybe you would've had time to figure it out if you didn't hear someone calling your name from the front of the store.

"Excuse me."

You exasperate— Armin revels in the sweet scent of your perfume, that lingers in your abrupt absence.

"Jean? What are you doing here?"

Your tone is hushed as you meet with the tall, frantic man at the front of the store. "Don't you have work?"

"I'm on break. I know you said you needed space but I had to see you. You didn't text me back last night... after we, you know... I thought things were—"

"Shh!" You silence his rambling, which is embarrassingly not as quite as he thought he was delivering his message to you. "We'll talk about it later, okay? I'm working— this isn't the time!"

"Y/n... I talked with Connie... I need to do better for you, I will be better. I don't wanna lose you, you're fuckin' everything to me."

Jean's almond colored eyes flicker with passion and adoration for you as he pours his heart out— well... as much as he's able to at this moment. He can't say and do everything he wants in the middle of the bookstore; the rest will come later, if you let him.

"Thanks for your help, y/n."

Armin coos over your shoulder, dangerously placing his hand on the small of your back... right where he—

"Yeah, no problem."

Your heart races a mile a minute, while Armin wears the slyest of smirks as he eyes the aloof boyfriend's rather large stature, up and down.

He's toying with you, you're well aware of this; he's testing your composure, seeing how far he can push you until you break.

You manage to play it cool, until Armin plants his feet firmly next to Jean, obviously not planning on taking his leave anytime soon.

"Hi, I'm Armin."

He holds his hand out to Jean, waiting for him to reciprocate the hand shake.