— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers
— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort
— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?
— Chapter summary: A journal entry. Meanwhile, Armin does what he can to help Eren out.
— Content warnings: mentions of murder and torture of a woman, misogyny.
— Notes: Hello, hello! Thank you to everyone who liked and reblogged chapter 1 of this series. I really appreciate it <3 Happy reading, bubs!
Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist
just friends
September 8, 2024
There’s nothing I hate more than arrogant women. That’s why I had to kill her.
All I wanted was for her to smile at me. She wouldn’t. I filled her room with all her favorite things and even loosened her handcuffs. But she was so fucking hard-headed it drove me crazy. The little bitch even dared to spit at me. I had to teach her a lesson. I had to let out my anger somehow.
For a while, it was exciting to watch her writhe in pain. I can’t even begin to describe how thrilling it is to see how much a human can tolerate until they break. I told her it was compensation for the look she gave me the day we met. She kept lying and saying she didn’t even remember having bumped into me on the street.
I really wish she could’ve bounced back this time. I’m so lonely without her now. I miss her.
Humans are social by nature, it's what all the books say. When one is young, we need protection and love from our caregivers. As we grow, our world gradually expands and we bond with other people — friends from school, teachers, neighbors, coworkers. If one must stick to tradition, there's bound to be a romantic relationship to develop at some point. But for some people, that imposed path doesn't come naturally. Or rather, there have been blockages throughout the years that resulted in stunted social growth.
That's where you find yourself. It's not your fault. When one grows up forced to believe she's nothing but a burden, it's only natural to try to take up as little space as possible. But again, it's not your fault. One doesn't acquire those thoughts on their own.
You ruined my life!
As much as wellness and self-help gurus will preach there's a place in the world for everyone, self-awareness keeps you from blinding yourself toward the baggage you carry. It wouldn't be fair to lay that on anyone else.
So you've shrunk yourself. No making yourself seen, no making yourself heard. No talking outside of what is strictly necessary to survive. No inserting yourself into other's lives. For the most part, it's worked. Albeit, you've been deemed unlikable, weird, and rude. It's better this way. There's no use in putting yourself out there if there's so much to feel ashamed of. It's too much to trouble others with your pitiful self.
Who in the world would want to put up with you?
After the usual snarky murmurs and judgmental glances, you're rarely acknowledged save for when someone — usually a man — tries to “take a crack” at you and the whispers float in the air for another while. Other than that, you're at peace with yourself. You're almost convinced you've developed invisibility powers.
That is until Armin came along. At first, you sighed at the prospect of going over your routine yet again. Cementing boundaries and erasing any hope that it just takes the right guy to “loosen you up”. It was disgusting to have your quietness be misinterpreted for arrogance by the men at work. Even if that were the case, who was anybody to assume you needed to be knocked down a peg through sexual advances?
But Armin proved himself to be different. He tore away at your skepticism by simply being kind with no ulterior motives. Men can be so stupid. They'll believe a girl can't pick up when they're being slimy. It must've shocked them when you started having lunch with Armin more frequently.
It was thanks to him that you slowly expanded your world's limits. It was because of him that you began to question the voice that rang in your ears. After receiving the housewarming party invitation, you wondered whether to step forward or back. There was no denying Armin's expansion had awoken something in you. You wanted company — craved it — but you didn't want to risk bringing trouble into the group. What if Armin was an anomaly and the things that echoed in your head were true? Maybe Armin wasn't an anomaly at all, he just didn't know enough about you. You certainly didn't let him in enough.
In the end, your heart overruled your brain. You wanted more. With a hopeful heart, you went to the party.
A heavy sigh slips past your lips as you pick at your dinner on Sunday night. Your hair is still damp from the shower and it rests uncomfortably along your neck. Your phone lies next to your plate, buzzing every few seconds to match the texts that come into the group chat — arrangements are taking place for the next get-together with Armin and his friends.
After your moment of realization on the balcony, you faked a yawn and went back inside to pretend to fall asleep.
This morning, you avoided being alone with Eren. Not out of fear of something happening, but you needed to sort out your feelings on the situation.
There's no denying Eren is an attractive man — but that doesn't faze you.
Catching Eren's eye wasn't something you planned. Your world suddenly expanded outside of your will — out of your control. You're not annoyed, just overwhelmed.
Being the center of someone's attention means more expectations, more to live up to — he has no idea you're not the kind of girl he needs. Nobody needs someone who's a burden. It's not as if you're open to reciprocating any special attention, anyway.
If history has taught you anything, it’s that love isn't in the cards for you. It's best not to entertain any silly ideas.
Friendships are tricky, but no more than romance — or whatever crossed Eren's mind each time he looked at you. Keeping to oneself is easier than either one. But with the latter idea being too late to return to, you'll have to nip this problem in the bud.
The few hours before lunchtime seem to drag slower every Monday. Given that sparing time to eat was nothing but another task to check off your to-do list, you never used to pay much attention to the clock. But since Armin, lunchtime means more than bringing food to your mouth, methodically stretching your pace to fit the length of your lunch break.
Now it means meeting with a friend, having someone fill in the silence with tales from the accounting department, and occasionally going on quick drives to Kuchel.
So when you venture off to his cubicle, only for him to tell you he's swamped with work and won't have lunch until later, you're mildly disappointed. You don't let it show. After all, work trumps your trivial need for company.
So you wish him good luck and return to your desk. Without any conversation to fill in the minutes, you finish your food fairly quickly. When you glance at the time on your phone, barely fifteen minutes have passed. Your fingers tap rhythmically against your desk before you decidedly stand, grab your bag, and head for the elevator.
The coffee shop on the corner of the street has been your go-to spot since you started working here. You've been there alone and with Armin. It's where your feet take you on the rare occasions when Armin is too busy. There's nothing wrong with the in-house coffee kiosk from your office building, but you find more comfort in being surrounded by strangers who keep to themselves than bumping into someone who doesn't like you.
The early September days serve as a transition into cooler temperatures. A light breeze has added to the warmth leftover from summer. The leaves have yet to develop a clear change in color, but some yellow streaks are popping up here and there. The beginning of autumn pushes you toward all things cozy. By the time you reach the shop, you've got your heart set on having a warm cup of cinnamon tea.
You settle at a table, place your order, grab a book from your bag, and wait. Before you can reach the second paragraph of your read, a shadow casts over your left side, forcing you to look up in confusion. It's too soon for your tea to be ready.
You're met with striking green eyes and plump lips that pronounce a bashful hi.
It's a strange coincidence. You wish you could say you've never seen him around here before, but you've never bothered to commit any face to memory if it's not necessary.
“Eren, hi.”
The tint on his cheeks you remember so well from two nights ago resurfaces. A nervous swallow pulls at your throat. You never did map out a plan — then again, you weren't expecting to see him again so soon.
“I wasn't sure if it was you. Are you here with someone?” he asks, taking a second to look around the shop.
You shake your head.
“No. Armin's busy so I came here alone,” you explain.
He nods, rocking his weight on his heels. A question seems to linger on the tip of his tongue as his gaze flits between you and the floor. It takes him a moment for him to find his voice, though. In spite of yourself, you have to admit it's actually a bit endearing. It's different. It's refreshing.
“Is it okay if I sit with you?” His eyes are overflowing with hope.
You nod. He sits. The book in your hands is put away.
For a while last night, you debated the validity of your theory. Maybe Eren wasn't interested in you in the way you thought. After all, it was your first time meeting and he might’ve been nervous. You know enough about the way you present yourself to acknowledge you're not the most approachable person. Maybe all he needs is time to get used to you.
“Do you want to order something?” You ask, prepared to wave over a server. He stops you with a dismissive hand.
“It's okay, I already had some tea.”
Your eyebrows rise in surprise.
“Not a coffee guy?”
He shakes his head, sputtering a nervous chuckle.
“Not really. I don't like bitter things.” His nose scrunches as if he can savor it on his tongue.
A server brings over your tea along with a small tray of additives. You thank them before returning to Eren's statement.
“You can always add sugar,” you point out with a shrug.
He shakes his head again. This time you're relieved to find a playful smile dancing on his lips.
“Nothing can beat tea with honey.”
Your hand pauses mid-air on its way to pick up the wooden wand half lost in a jar of golden syrup.
You hum in thought as you reach for the sugar spoon instead.
“Really?”
“Yeah. That's how my mom made it for me when I was little. I'd get a stomachache or a cold and it was the first thing she'd make for me. I feel like a kid each time I drink it. It makes me think of her.”
The corners of his lips tug into a smile. You find yourself mirroring his expression as you look down at your hand stirring the sugar into your tea.
“Your mom sounds nice,” you murmur.
“Oh, she's the best. I love her.”
Eren's shoulders relax. He feels at ease talking about his mom. He feels even better knowing he's successfully carrying out a casual conversation with you. In the light of day, everything is less scary. There's less to worry about. That carefree feeling blankets over everything. Suddenly, the motive he walked into this coffee shop for seems doable.
Then a sinking feeling comes over his stomach.
“Sorry.” The word bounces off his tongue without thinking.
“What for?”
He doesn't want to say it, but he hopes his apologetic gaze is enough to convey an explanation.
Your eyebrows shoot up in realization at his hesitance. Then they furrow as you press your lips into a fine line and shake your head dismissively.
“Oh, that.”
The recall of Saturday night when you drunkenly talked about your mom causes your cheeks to flare with heat.
Guilt settles in Eren's stomach. He didn't mean to bring up his mom. He also didn't mean to be so quick to apologize. It just made things worse now that you know he's tiptoeing around you. That's probably the last thing you want — to feel purposely pitied.
Flustered, he rummages through his brain for a solution — a way to get back on the track he was on.
You fix your gaze on him. It's obvious he feels troubled. It's a foreign experience having someone worry so much about if they've caused you any harm. You're unsure of what feelings to associate with it other than guilt. He's not at fault for your crappy family life.
“So you and your mom are close?” you ask.
The crease in his forehead smoothes over.
When he shyly reconnects with your gaze, your eyebrows raise ever so slightly in encouragement. The movement is so subtle it's hard not to miss — but not for Eren, who takes in every detail of your face with so much care. For Eren, the small shifts in your features are so interesting to look at. You express so much with so little. And yet there were times when you would accentuate your expressions as much as you could. What you held back vocally was compensated tenfold through your face. It's fascinating to him.
“Yeah.”
His voice is soft — a trace of his withering embarrassment.
“She's my best friend,” he adds with a little more confidence.
You take a sip of tea. The drink warms your stomach, mirroring that of your chest elicited by Eren's words. The fondness in his voice taints him with a childlike innocence.
Eren Jaeger isn't worried about looking cool. He's honest and clumsy. It's charming.
A light shake of your head keeps your thoughts from drifting further.
“So not a coffee guy but a mama's boy, for sure. Got it.” You nod along with an overly serious expression painted on your face.
He laughs, the sinking feeling in his stomach now dissolving into nothing. Had he not been on the receiving end of your bluntly spoken teasing the other night, he might not have laughed so easily.
A blush spreads across his cheeks.
“Come on, don't tease me,” he mumbles.
You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling. Eren falls back into his previously relaxed state.
The conversation continues to flow in between every sip of your tea.
“Do you come here often?” you ask as you prepare to take another sip.
Your eyes are locked on his. He struggles with the intense eye contact. At least, it's intense on his end.
“Not really. Armin mentioned it to me so I thought I'd try it out.”
The pads of his fingers drum a nervous beat on the table.
You nod, relieved. You'd feel silly if it had turned out he was a frequent customer and your disregard of the people surrounding you kept you from noticing him. It would've piled onto your embarrassment from the Kuchel incident.
“Ah, so are you on your lunch break, too? Do you work around here?”
“Um, kind of. I do media production and marketing for a museum, but I do a lot of hours at home. My place is just a few minutes by car.”
“That's so cool.”
The amazement in your voice in addition to its sudden turn up in volume is enough to make him blush.
“It's nothing special. I'm definitely not raking in the big bucks like Jean.”
“Still, it's cool. It's a lot more interesting than being an office manager.”
Your eyebrows scrunch together with newborn disdain for your job before you finish the remainder of your tea.
“Well, I can't argue there,” he says, imitating the sliver of bitterness in your voice.
You gasp in mock hurt.
“Hey, only I can say it.” Your tone is serious, but he knows you're joking. He can tell by the twinkle of amusement in your eyes.
He laughs.
“How long until you have to get back to work?”
You peek at the clock on the wall across the room.
“I still have some time. It's a short walk back, anyway.”
Despite your wording, your answer triggers his nervous antics. You're bound to part ways eventually and he swore to himself he would get the words out. He runs a hand through his hair to distract himself from the anxious flutter in his stomach.
It's no big deal, he thinks. She's just a girl.
He regrets not ordering something else when you asked him. It would give his hands something to do. Then again, he can't keep them from shaking as he gathers the courage to pronounce his next thought. So it's better he doesn't have any breakables in his hold.
He pronounces your name carefully. His heart skips a beat when your eyes meet his. It's strange to think that you hold so much power over him within just a couple of days since meeting. He wants to get closer — he needs to. Again, that feeling of wanting this moment with you to stretch farther squeezes at his chest.
“Do you want to hang out sometime? Just the two of us?”
He can feel himself growing numb to his surroundings as he awaits your response. It's similar to the feeling he gets after stepping foot off a rollercoaster. The adrenaline is pumping furiously through his veins while his mind goes blank. It's a weird moment of chaos and bliss all at once.
You clear your throat.
“So… a date?”
He swallows thickly and nods.
He watches you contemplate his proposal. Your lips are pressed in a fine line, your gaze low and brow furrowed.
It's too much to hope you're equally attracted to him — he's aware. But he hopes you like his company just enough to say yes. Or at the very least, you're curious to know more.
Your mind is in conflict. This is more than you've bargained for. All you wanted was to get along with Armin's friends.
“I'm sorry, Eren. No.”
He instantly deflates to your firm tone.
“It's nothing personal,” you explain. “You're a really nice guy. Really. But I'm not interested in dating… at all.” You sigh, dreading the pending words on your tongue. “And I don't really see you that way. I just want to be friends.”
He remains quiet, chewing on the inside of his cheeks as he processes your words.
The situation is uncomfortable for you, but his defeated form weighs heavier on your heart. He looks so small. It's definitely worse for him.
“Eren?”
Your voice grounds him.
“Sorry, I really spaced out there,” he nervously laughs. “Friends, though. Yeah, friends is good. Friends is perfect, actually.”
The word leaves a bitter taste on his tongue each time. He can pat himself on the back for shooting his shot later but, for now, his senses have been blurred by the disappointment of being turned down.
“I really like talking to you, Eren. Really.”
Your attempt to lighten the defeat on his shoulders works — a little. It's a relief you're not entirely opposed to having him around, at least. Eren finds comfort in that. Maybe it'll suffice while he fights away at his attraction.
“I like talking to you, too.” His voice carries a tint of helplessness.
Your eyes soften.
“I should get going.”
You pull out a fresh bill from your purse and place it under the empty teacup before standing.
He stands with you and holds the door open. It's not until you're both out on the sidewalk, bidding each other goodbye, that he forces a smile.
“I'll see you around.”
“Bye, Eren.”
“Sorry I couldn't make it to lunch,” Armin says. He leans against the edge of your desk with his hands in his pockets.
It's been an hour since you got back, and you've been typing away, replying to emails.
You shrug, tossing a small reassuring smile his way before focusing back on your computer screen.
“It's fine. I wasn't alone this time.”
He perks up.
“Really?”
You hum in affirmation.
“I went out for tea and bumped into your friend Eren.”
Armin's jaw falls open.
“Huh. Well, what do you know? That's a crazy coincidence.”
There's something suspicious about Armin's theatrical tone, but you're too engrossed in going over your email for typos to notice. You only manage to murmur a simple uh-huh.
“What'd you talk about?”
You send off your email with a satisfied click and look up at Armin as you lean back in your chair.
“Just this and that,” you reply nonchalantly.
His lips press into a dissatisfied line.
“Well, what do you think of him?” His eyes light up expectantly.
“He's…” You lose yourself in thought for a moment. Images of blushing cheeks, boyish smiles, and shimmering green eyes flash through your memory. You remember the honey and his simple confessions. “... like a little kid.”
Armin's face bears a mix of confusion and amusement.
“What do you mean by that?”
A soft pensive hum vibrates through your throat.
“Dorky,” you reply firmly.
Armin snorts, readying himself to come to Eren's defense, but you continue.
“He's… honest, like a little kid would be. And he's a little clumsy with his words but it's… Kind of endearing. He's a sweet guy.”
Armin nods along, his face serious. Finally, he smiles.
“Sounds like you had a nice talk, then.”
Date proposal aside, your moment with Eren was enjoyable. Even taking your rejection into account, you didn't sense any resentment directed at you and that just further proved your pure perception of him.
It's not the first time you've been asked out. It's certainly not the first time you've said no — that's always been your response, albeit for different reasons. A few guys in the office have tried getting closer to you but, even if you were open to dating, you can always tell it's nothing genuine from their approach. Their overly kind performance just makes it easier for you to decline. Once that's been done, their creepy narcissistic truths come to light — you're stoned with sexist slurs and disgusted looks. It'd hurt more if you were still the kind of person who craves approval from the wrong people.
There's a clear difference between them and Eren. So even though you rejected him, you still wish to be close as friends. He's a nice person to know.
“I did,” you tell Armin.
There's a shimmer in your eyes he manages to catch. Your features are soft and serene as you prop your chin on one hand while you mindlessly scroll through your emails with the other. Your lips are shaped into a discreet smile. Like a kid.
On his way back to his cubicle on the opposite end of the floor, Armin hums a cheerful tune to himself. There's a proud bounce in every step he takes.
“Armin, check your phone. It was buzzing like crazy a few minutes ago,” a female coworker says in passing before grabbing a manila folder from her desk and rushing off to a meeting room across the hall.
“Thanks, Mina!” he calls after her.
Armin taps the missed call notification on his screen and brings the phone to his ear, grinning expectantly.
“You suck,” Eren's voice comes through the speaker after the first ring.
“Woah, woah, woah. What did I do?” Armin laughs as he steps out onto the empty smoker's balcony.
There’s a groan on the other end.
“What do you think? I crashed and burned.”
Armin’s face contorts in confusion. From what he could gather on your end, the coffee shop incident went well. You were smiling, and although the things you said about Eren didn’t seem like it, you meant them fondly — Armin knew you well enough to confidently confirm that. At the very least, it meant you weren’t completely repulsed by his company. Even if there are different sides to every story, the discrepancies shouldn’t be anything major.
“What are you talking about?” Armin sighs.
Another groan on Eren’s end. If Armin wasn’t so patient, he would’ve hung up.
He really is like a little kid, he thinks.
“I asked her out and she said no.”
Armin’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. How could you keep that part out of the conversation you had earlier?
His shock doesn’t stem from your rejection, but rather because of Eren’s unexpected bravery. Although Eren was tough on the playground when they were kids, he grew up to be a fairly meek guy. When it comes to a girl he likes, he’s never been the bold type. Armin found it a bit strange at times. Eren’s had a track record of being popular among women, so his confidence should be over the roof and his personality, unbearable. But if he’s honest, it’s a good thing he doesn’t pay much attention to those things. It’s easier to root for a friend who only acts on more honest feelings. Even if that confidence didn’t stick with him.
“This is all your fault, Armin. So much for having my back.”
Even through the phone, Armin can tell his best friend is pouting. He has to hold back from rolling his eyes — it feels deceitful to do it behind his back when he has to play the role of a sympathetic friend right now.
He rubs at his nape, unsure of whether he should feel proud of Eren for making a move or apologetic for not contemplating what seemed like a far-fetched risk.
“To be fair, buddy, I didn’t send you over there to ask her out. I just thought you would like the chance to talk to her and get to know her a little better.”
“You couldn’t tell me that before? I don’t think I can ever face her again!” Eren half-yells.
Of course, Eren chooses to focus on the negatives. Armin cherry-picks the situations he meddles in. Even if it’ll serve as a confident boost to reveal to Eren what you said about him and how you said it, it could do him some good to bounce back on his own — and learn to pace himself.
“First off, you have to relax an—”
“I can’t.” Eren’s voice is reduced to an embarrassed murmur. “She makes me nervous. I can’t help myself.”
There’s a long moment of silence.
It’s been obvious from the start that Eren is attracted to you, but the near confession pulls at Armin’s heartstrings. It’s times like this when he’s reminded how cute Eren can be.
“That bad, huh?” Armin smiles down at the people walking on the street.
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not in love with her or anything but…”
There's a long pause on Eren's side, only disturbed by some light rustling as he moves his phone around.
“... I like looking at her… and I like hearing her talk. Do you ever notice how soft her voice is? There’s just something about it… There’s this thing with her eyes, too, it’s crazy.”
“Well, as long as you’re not falling in love with her.”
Eren releases a third groan.
“Armin, please. I just want to get closer to her. And I don’t want to make myself look like an idiot each time we’re alone. I wish there was something I could do to make her like me.”
“I don’t think she dislikes you if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“She said she doesn’t see me that way. She just wants to be friends.”
Eren’s desolation is seeping through the phone now.
“Maybe I jumped the gun by asking her out so quickly.”
When Armin suggested Eren find you at the coffee shop during your lunch break, he figured it would help him get used to you. So that when the time came, he could ask you out without being more anxious than he needed to be. Had everything gone accordingly, Eren wouldn’t be moping now and wondering what would have happened — if anything was meant to happen — if he had just given you a little more time.
“Maybe,” Armin echoes.
“Do you think I blew it?”
Armin shakes his head even though there’s no way for Eren to tell.
“I think you just got a little excited. You never know how she might feel later on.”
“I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. I hardly think she’ll like me any better if I act like those guys who can’t take no for an answer. I should just try being her friend.”
Armin wants to beg him not to feel discouraged — that there’s a reason why he was so excited to introduce you to each other, and why he teased him at the housewarming party after he caught him blushing while doing the dishes with you.
It didn’t start that way but, the more he got to know you, the more he thought you and Eren would be good together.
Soft-spoken girl who keeps to herself meets the most dependable and kind-hearted boy.
Armin would be lying if he said he wasn’t swayed by the promised satisfaction of playing matchmaker in the fantasy playing out in his head. Not that he felt you absolutely needed to get together. But he could feel it in his gut. You and Eren could do each other a lot of good. He already knew Eren would feel a pull upon meeting you and, if there’s anything he gathered from both sides of the coffee shop incident, it’s that you like Eren enough to let him stick around. It was a good call on your end, though he may be biased.
If you happen to fall in love along the way, then so be it.
“You’re a good guy, Eren. Everything will turn out fine.”
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