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pinkmirth · 3 years ago

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ (ch.3 | feenin’)

— 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬.

SERIES MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | WC: 3.1K | CONTENT WARNINGS: IMPLICATIONS OF JEAN X READER

Game breaks are practically a blessing after giving your all on the court— well, they usually are most times. Though, when you’re the cause of a point loss for your team like Jean Kirschtein, they aren’t all that much to look forward to.

Especially when the coach is shooting the sharpest eye-daggers right at him.

All Stohess players come into a huddle, the tall young men having to crouch down to the height level of their basketball instructor, Coach Ackerman. He’s clad in a fitting black polo shirt, inky black bangs framing his face, that of which held the stiffest expression.

“The hell was that out there, Kirschtein?” Coach Levi roughly snaps, and Jean just knows he’s in trouble. “M’sorry, Coach... Got distracted.” The brunette male murmurs, but it’s clear that his excuse simply isn’t enough. Not for Levi Ackerman, at least.

“Listen,” pressing his fingers along his temple and rubbing a hand over his steely eyes, Levi exhales. “You might just be the temporary captain while Jaeger’s gone, but I expect you to play like you've been leadin’ this team all your damn life. Understand me?”

Jean goes tight-lipped and emits a huff, while Levi, Connie, and the whole lot of Stohess Scouts await their makeshift captain’s answer. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Coach.” Jean replies impassionately, but a rather begrudging undertone is still heard in his voice. He’s here in this gym in a physical sense, but not mentally. Instead, he’s dazed over you like he always is.

Jean uses his forearm to wipe the sheen layer of sweat off of his forehead before peering behind his shoulder for the umpteenth time, and Eren’s finally alone on those uninhabited bleachers, teal eyes zoning in on the phone in his palm instead of making conversation with you, who was seemingly elsewhere. The brunette instantly grows relieved— he isn’t the type to act out in a fit of possessiveness, but you’re his best friend, after all.

The buzzer’s repetitive blare ignites this wave of determination that surges throughout the team; this was the last quarter of the game, and they’d be damned if they weren't able to maintain their leading status and bring home the gold for their first game of the season.

Levi purses his lips up to the whistle strung around his neck, eliciting a sharp sound with help from the silver object. “Go whoop some Warrior ass, you hear?” The players then end their huddle, making their way onto the court with a typical athletic jog.

The only thing that can pull Jean back to reality is Connie’s antics, which is why Springer purposefully jabs at him with his elbow. It wrenches a wince out of Jean, and he flits his light brown irises over to his friend’s hazel ones, his expression scrunched.

“The hell was that for, ‘Con?”

“I was helpin’ you out, so you don't doze off on the court again,” Connie chuckles, bearing a cheeky grin. “Just try not to stare at your girlfriend this time, m’kay?” he’s referring to you, and Jean knows it. That’s what spurs him on to choke on his breath over such an assumption; so unattainable and far fetched, yet he dreams it could be that way all the time. “She isn’t my… whatever.”

“Oh! I assumed that you and her were, like… since ya looked at her and then she looked at you and— nevermind.” the way he fumbles over each and every word has Jean snickering to himself. “— She’s pretty, by the way.” Connie utters, adjusting the ends of his arm sleeve.

Jean takes a final sparing glance to see you; arms linked with Eren’s while flashing a grin over whatever stupidly funny thing Jaeger had said this time. “... She really is.” The brunette can only find it in himself to sigh— jealousy stings.

°∴,*⋅✲══〖➹〗══✲⋅*,∴°

“You’re just gonna leave me in the dust like that?” Eren huffs, attempting to venture up the bleacher steps. With that fractured ankle of his, there’d be no way that he could sprint his way up as fast as you. “Ion’ think I can go any slower than this.” You say. He pouts in response, and you stifle your laughter behind your grinning lips.

Interacting a pretty, athletic college boy at a bustling game was an ideal meet-cute, it really was, but you’d have to get back to Marco sooner or later, preferably sometime today; only if Eren would just quit shooting you those alluring grins and throwing an arm around your shoulder, doing all the things that made you want to stick around a little longer than you should.

When you claimed that you had to make your way to your seat, Eren found it nothing short of obligatory to escort you back. Besides, what else would a good boyfriend do?

You crane your neck back to glance at the ongoing game. “Hey, snookums,” he brings your attention back to him, and you find the nickname laughable. Sure, it's cute, but it’d take a while or even longer to get used to. Once your eyes are on him, he extends an arm to you. “help me out here, would ya?”

“Oh? Y’need help with walkin’ now?” he's quick to link his arm with yours, the hum he elicits showing that he’s more than satisfied. You can only find it in yourself to sigh, for Eren didn’t seem all that codependent. You could only assume that it was his instant intrigue for you that had him taking any opportunity to keep you close.

“How’d you hurt your ankle anyway?” you await an answer from Eren, watching how he tenses up and averts his eyes from yours, tongue prodding at his inner cheek. “It was just a slip-up at practice…” judging by the hum you release, it’s clear that you find his explanation hard to believe.

Eren doesn’t have the heart to say, for it’d be too embarrassing to admit; he’d gotten in a fight at practice, with Jean of all people, which led to his injury while the two tackled each other to the ground, struggling to get a few punches in. “Hm… Be more careful next time, Rennie.” As an athlete, the state of his body is practically his money maker, but as plain old Eren Jaeger, he takes the dumbest risks without a second thought.

Just as you’re about to console Eren and tell him to take his leisurely time with each and every step, a hand reaches out to him from the crowd. “Hey man, how’s it goin’?” You watch Eren greet him casually, presumably one of his friends, clasping his hand firmly to go through with some complex handshake.

It's hardly seconds later when yet another friend calls out to him; not to mention numerous smiles directed his way. Eren’s shaking hands and giving fist bumps with every step up the stands, flashing grins left right and center.

You take note of all the attention he receives, squeezing at his hand gently. “You famous around here or somethin’?” You question, “Nah, hardly.” he replies, his tone somewhat cocky. The pair of you progress a few more steps before he stops near a pair of very contrasting people.

You lock eyes with the grey-eyed young woman seated before you, her wispy black bangs decorated with a hair clip or two. Judging by the way her gaze drags on you admirably, you can only guess that she’s trying to read you. She then shoots you a soft grin, one that you return without hesitation.

There’s a boyish looking blonde sitting one chair apart from her, his blue irises sending you an eye-smile. In between him and the dark haired girl, an empty seat lies— one that they must’ve saved just for Eren.

“You brought a friend, ‘Ren?” says the blonde. Eren pulls you to his side as you ease into the warm feeling of such proximity. “Yep,” he then turns to you, encouraging the encounter between you and his closest friends, “This is ‘Kasa, and that’s Armin.” you nod, outstretching your hand to theirs. “It’s nice to meet y’all,” you clasp your hand with Armin’s and then Mikasa’s, flashing a glossy smile.

“I also brought your gummies, ‘Min,” Eren delves his hand into the pocket of his sizable basketball shorts, taking hold of the fruit snacks before throwing them Armin’s way. The brunette jabs his thumb in your direction, sparing you a knowing glance. That pet name, he’s surely going to address you with it again.

“Snookums bought ‘em.” To that, Mikasa giggles and Armin lifts a brow. He’d question it, but would rather focus on showing gratitude for the snack he didn’t have to pay for. “Thank you,” his appreciation is genuine, and it earns your easy-going reply. “S’no problem,” you say, content with the weight of Eren’s bare arm resting along your shoulder.

“Just to clarify,” you speak, peering up at the brunette athlete alongside you before continuing, “m’sure you guys know that snookums isn’t my actual name.” that has Mikasa grinning, faint smile lines creasing near her long-lashed eyes. “Eren always comes up with the dumbest nicknames.” she chuckles, and Armin scoffs amusedly in agreement.

You watch how Eren rolls his jade-hued eyes, lips forming a pout. You coo at the sight, leaning into him further. “Well, I think it’s kinda cute.” Both Armin and Mikasa witness how you display the sweetest smile towards Eren, and how the idiot grows red-faced as a reply, trying to shake off his flustered-ness by playfully nudging his shoulder against yours. The pair look between themselves with raised brows over the way you and Eren act as though you’ve known each other for a lifetime.

“So, what is your name?” asks Armin. Just as you’re about to give him an answer, Eren speaks. “She never said.” his teal eyes bore into yours, “Wouldn’t mind if you were to tell me...” his tone is hushed this time around, like you and him are the only ones occupying this spacey auditorium.

You part your lips to tell him, but Marco beats you to it. “(Y/N)! Up here!” Bodt waves in order to gain your attention, situated rows away from where you stood. Once Eren finally catches wind of your name, a pretty sounding one at that, his grin ironically drops.

He should be glad that he knows it now, for he’s sure that it’ll sound sweet rolling off of his tongue when he says it. (Y/N). That rings a bell, a loud one that has his head throbbing from such internal ruckus. (Y/N), he thinks. It’s only now that he realizes why your name sounds all too familiar.

You’re the one that Jean never stops yappin’ about in the basketball team’s group chat. Hell, Kirschtein practically mentions you all the time— (Y/N) this, (Y/N) that. It was urging Eren to want to meet you himself, and now that he had, he realized that Jean’s raving wasn’t some overreaction.

But there’s a bad twist to it all, one that has Eren’s lips lowering into a frown. From what he remembered, Jean had earlier mentioned that he was building up the courage to ask out someone who coincidentally had your namesake. Eren clenches his teeth at the mere thought. No coincidence there.

He’s only known you for a mere thirty minutes after that situation in the hall, but he made up his mind since the moment you strode past him on the bleachers, capturing all his interest and leaving him enraptured— he wants to be yours, and you his.

You send Marco a wave right back, bidding farewell to your new friends. “I’ve gotta go, but it was nice meeting y’all!” You spare Eren one more glance, his green irises locking with yours. He slinks his arm away, and you give his shoulder a consoling rub before making your way up the steps.

“See you, Rennie.” your tone is sweet and alluring, it makes him want to hear more and more. “I’mma be up there if y’need me.” and with that, you’re gone, skipping up the steps to reunite with your freckled friend.

Eren shuffles his way towards the seat between Armin and Mika, sitting down with a thump. “You look upset,” Armin observes, plopping a fruit snack past his pink lips and into his mouth. Mikasa pinches at Eren’s cheek, and he pouts. “I think she likes you, ‘Ren.” She says. He trills his lips to that, nudging her fingers away from his face.

“I’d expect her to, yeah?” Eren scoffs. He sets his attention on the game, zoning in on Jean’s swift moves upon the basketball court with unbridled jealousy— funnily enough, over someone who isn’t even his. Yet. All that he’s thinking is that he could, can, do so much fucking better than stupid Jean Kirschtein.

“She’s my girlfriend, after all.”

‘Min practically chokes on his snack, and ‘Kasa’s jaw falls open in utter shock. “She is..?” exclaims Armin, and the sound of his tone gives off just how much he’s impressed.

Eren visibly hesitates, for he hasn’t got a clue as to why he’d announce such a lie in the first place. “Um, yeah,” he stammers, trying to go along with it.

Eren finds himself saying these words two times in a row on the same damned day, “— I’m her boyfriend.”

°∴,*⋅✲══〖➹〗══✲⋅*,∴°

“Where’ve you been?” Marco questions you as you fall back into your seat, maneuvering around to get yourself comfy. “I’ve been gettin’ that candy of yours,” you say, tossing the vibrant yellow bag of sour patch his way. “And why am I not hearin’ a thank you?” You tease while poking at his cheek, earning your friend’s soft chuckles. “Thanks, (N/N),” you hear him speak to you, but it’s clear that his mind’s somewhere else.

“You alright, Coco?” You query, awaiting an answer from him while keeping your eyes on the game. “I just wanna ask,” his gaze is trained on a person sitting a few rows down— particularly a certain someone with messy dark hair, clad in a college basketball uniform.

“Who’s that you were with?” Marco asks as though he hasn’t got a clue, but he knows damn well who you were rendezvousing with, having your arm linked with his while shooting him pretty little glances— Eren Jaeger, of all people. Or, in simpler words, ‘Ren, a friend of his from Paradis high school, who now attends Stohess University with him as well.

Marco had been acquainted with Eren for a while now; since the green-eyed male was practically a nobody back in highschool up until now, where he’s the social butterfly who attracts both girls and guys in a breeze. More importantly, he’s said to be the most prodigious basketball player on campus, with none other than Jean Kirschtein as his runner up.

“Oh, him?” You bear a smile, looking in Eren’s direction albeit he can’t see you from where he is. “he’s just my boyfriend,” you laugh while drawing out the word, believing that Marco would take your joking words sparingly. Though, by the way his mouth drops, a surprised smirk adorning his face, you can tell that he believes what you say wholeheartedly.

“Wait, for real?” His brown eyes go wide, “You’re dating Eren?” Your lips purse momentarily, before they part so you can tell poor Marco that you’re simply pulling his leg, but he goes on. “And you didn't bother to tell me, your own best friend? Oh, (N/N), I’m hurt,” he feigns a pained expression, rubbing at his neck with his fingers grazing his undercut.

“No, wait,” you shake your head, “I was just playin—“ The final buzzer goes off to signify the ending of the game, and you’re left interrupted while Marco springs up from his seat with a beam, chanting his school anthem with the hundreds of other students who filled the stands.

“The Stohess Scouts take the first victory of the season! This is an amazing start to their college athletic careers—“ The commentator announces with vigor, and all the Scouts’ team members scramble into this cluster of a group hug, swaying from side to side and cheering with joy and pride laced within their deep voices.

You feel obliged to stand and clap along with many others in the auditorium, rising to your feet and putting your hands together. Once the thought of Jean reaches your mind, a grin grows upon your face, your claps fueled with more purpose. You see him from where you’re standing, and he’s talking on with a smile so wide that you’re sure it aches, while he issues high fives and fist bumps to his fellow athletes.

You’re proud of him, you really are. Your mind races back to a vivid memory— the pair of you playing street ball at the age of thirteen. Jeanie was always exceptionally tall, which enabled him to dunk and do all types of flashy things that basketball players do. You never knew, but he’d always whip out his newly learned tricks to impress you.

It’s crazy how it happens, but you lock eyes with Jean. You’re all the way up here and he’s all the way down there, but you can see each other so well amidst the heavy roar of the crowd. He smiles sweetly, and you have no clue as to why your heart beats faster at the sight of him grinning so handsomely. He mouths a set of words, and you’re surprised that you’re able to catch onto them.

‘Told ya we’d win.’

You chuckle to that, mouthing something right back. ‘I was countin’ on it.’

All the while, you’re unaware of Eren’s eyes and how they’re steadily trained on you. He sees the connection between you and Jean, and he craves that with you as well; the fact that he hardly knows you doesn’t matter anymore, isn’t knowing that you’re a good-hearted, fairly attractive person more than enough?

His sudden engrossment with you is all too strong for him to think reasonably, for all he knows is that you’re his type in every way, and that he wants you. Wants to make his little white lie about yours and his relationship a reality.

—𝑭𝑰𝑵.

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