Eren x Reader Oneshots

your shoulder to cry on 💚☀️

Words: 1.2k
Genre: fluff (angst if you squint)
Warnings: swearing

Author's Note: I actually really like how this turned out, so I'll probably have to write for Jean in the future. I hope I got his character right! Still not entirely used to writing for him, but we'll get there 😅 I hope you guys enjoy!

You knew it was wrong to ignore your boyfriend for a week. You had over 20 missed calls- and who knows how many unopened text messages.

You tapped your phone screen, feeling the guilt build up inside you with each scroll. He'd tried every social media platform, too. Instagram, Snapchat- even Facebook, which you swore nobody from your generation even used anymore.

He'd somehow gotten his friends in on it too. You had a couple of texts from Armin, Sasha, Connie... even Eren, which probably meant he was really worried. God knows he couldn't stand the brunette, despite being within the same friend circle.

You shut the device off, placing it back down on your desk. There was no doubt he was worried shitless, but you had no choice. With your current grade in your class, you were at risk of failing. Midterms might be your only option to pass, which led you to your current dilemma; ignoring everyone you knew just so you could focus on your work. It was unhealthy, but the only solution you felt you had.

You stared down at the calculus textbook, feeling the urge to burst into tears once again. But no, now was definitely not the time for another mental breakdown. You had to study, even if it hurt. There was no choice.

You cursed under your breath, dragging your mechanical pencil impatiently across the page. Just a couple more problems and you were sure to understand it eventually, right?

You wrote out the equation from your book, just about finishing the last number. Suddenly, a loud, terrifying knock on your door shattered your current reality. The lead on the writing utensil snapped, and you cringed.

"y/n, open the door! I know you're in there!" Jean's voice called out, seeping through the cracks of the door.

Your body froze, eyeing the nob that turned with every shove from his heavy body. He mumbled a string of curse words, before he hopelessly gave up, hearing him slump down with his back against the door.

"Look, if I did something... I'm really sorry. Really- fuck- just let me talk to you. Please," he croaked. A pause followed before he sighed, "just tell me what's wrong."

You let your pencil fall to your notebook, turning your desk chair to face the doorway. Between the stress of your schoolwork, and the realization of your wrong doings to your boyfriend... you couldn't help but feel feel tears threaten your eyes.

"I'm fine Jean. Really," you lied, biting your lower lip to choke back any visible uncertainty in your voice, "you did nothing. I just need to be alone for a while."

"Don't say that," you heard him retort. You shifted in your chair, "you're shutting me out again. You always do this when something's up."

Shit. Of course he wouldn't believe you. He knew you too well, more than you knew yourself, sometimes. You didn't respond, and instead, prayed that he wouldn't bring it up again. But of course, he was too persistent for such a thing. And he cared about you, too.

"It's not fair to ignore me like that, you know. I was worried."

"I know," you squeaked, looking down at your hands that fidgeted in your lap, "I'm sorry."

You heard a soft thump against the door, and you assumed it was the back of his head hitting the door, followed by a sigh. He wasn't upset with you. He could never be upset with you. He just wished you wouldn't push yourself away, when he was always there, willing to comfort you.

"Why did you do it?"

You stood up, taking a couple few steps towards the locked door. You stared at the blank surface, fingers trembling as they touched the doorknob. Though, you still made no move to open it.

"I'm failing calculus," you admitted weakly, "and I knew that if I told you, you'd get worried and try to help me."

You stood now facing the closed door, hearing him snort from behind it.

"And helping you is a bad thing?"

"Well, no, but..." you gulped, "you're always helping me with everything. And- buying me things. Taking me on dates. I don't want to burden you, Jean. I just- I feel bad."

There was a momentary pause, before he laughed, a low rumbling in his throat. You slumped against the door just as he had, before you heard him speak up again, this time, his tone more gentle.

"Don't ever feel like a burden asking me for anything. I'm more than happy to help. No matter when or where you need it."

He lifted his head from the door, when suddenly, he heard sniffles. Little sobs escaping your mouth, somewhat muffled- probably from your hand that covered them.

"Fuck- y/n, are you crying?" His brows knitted with concern, before pushing himself up to stand. If there was one thing he hated more than being ignored for a week, it was hearing you cry. "Open the door."

Your hand fumbled at the lock, before turning the knob and letting him in. He shut the door behind him, and wrapped you into his arms. He let you sob into him, body vibrating against his, feeling your heart thump in your chest.

You both stayed like that for a while, until he spoke up.

"I missed you, you know."

He felt you smile against him, and it was like a weight lifted off your shoulders. Even just his presence was enough to make you feel at ease again. Then, he pulled away, but his hands stayed at your sides, resting comfortably where your hips met your waist.

"I can't fix your grades, or teach you math, anything like that..." he ran his hands down your shoulders, tracing the smoothness of your skin with a delicate finger.

You watched his hands, before it trailed back up, lifting your chin to meet his amber eyes. Behind them held a twinge of hurt, and knowing that, you couldn't help but feel like a complete failure of a girlfriend. He really did care about you, and you shouldn't have let yourself think that bottling things up would make things any better.

"But will you at least let me be your shoulder to cry on?"

Your stomach erupted into butterflies- a feeling you hadn't felt since your first crush in middle school. That's the thing with Jean. He always knew how to make you feel special.

You didn't waste any time before resting your face in the crook of his neck once again, bringing your arms to wrap around his back. He returned the embrace with the same level of warmth, and your skin burned through the fabric of your clothes where his hands rubbed your sides.

There was no stress to think about in the comfort of his arms. None of it mattered. The only things that did, was the boy in your arms.

He smiled, drawing mindless patterns down the side of your back as you nestled yourself into him, "I'll take that as a 'yes'."