#Jean Kirstein x y/n

[ridingtorohan]

Armin, Jean, Eren and Mikasa overhearing

their crush saying "why would I tell them that I like them? I can't compete with (Annie/Mikasa/Eren)".

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Content Warning: Self-loathing under Armin's section.

Armin's brain completely stutters to a stop the moment he overhears it, his ribs feeling like they might concave at the slightest moment. He's overwhelmed and flustered, unable to look you in the eyes for the days to come, regardless if you knew he overheard or not. Stewing in it comes easy; talking to you about it is another.

Ever since the Scouts reclaimed Shiganshina, he's been plagued with self doubt. With feeling inadequate and so much self loathing that it's hard to put the pieces back together. Talking to Annie wasn't anything important to him- not like you were.

He was visiting Annie's crystal because he felt flawed, a mistake. A part of him ached to be needed, to satisfy that part of him that wanted to justify what they did to her. That thought: if Annie could be salvaged, couldn't he? That he wasn't a monster because of what happened.

With you it was different; he could express his fears and vulnerabilities. No one else had seen this side to him; the drive to be better, who saw him at his lowest and drove him to excel. Annie was an ideal, a ghost that he couldn't chase.

You? You were real. You, who fought alongside him, helped him to his feet, metaphorically and possibly physically. The way you held yourself, interacted with him. How could he not admire you? Like you?

What did he do to make you think this way? That you weren't so utterly important to him?

Armin tends to be more withdrawn with you around since he overheard that comment, trying to find the right words to say. Bravery comes not from the brain, as they say.

"I like you too!" He exclaims one day, red-faced and stumbling over his words as he tries to make them come out. Strategy planning is easy; risking people is a burden he can handle. But risking you?

Armin stampers through a confession that he heard you that day. But he's earnest, heart on his sleeve because it's only ever belonged to you.

"I didn't like her that way at all! I've only liked you, and, if you're - wanting to, we could-" He stammers through his sentences, getting utterly redfaced and earnest as he tries to find the right words to say. Later, it'll be easier when he's not pouring his heart out, but he knows you deserve to know. That maybe he deserves this too.

Him? You like Jean? Those overheard words don't really process through Jean's mind quickly enough as he passes by the room you're in.

It's a lot to unpack, mostly because you didn't want to tell him.

His words simmer in his throat. He thinks he can push this down; smother it like he's done so many other things. A part of him thinks it should die like that - after all, you didn't plan to say anything. Didn't think he was worth it, to share that secret with.

But he lives with regrets - Marco - not shooting -- but also not living up to the life that he wants. That he knows he deserves.

It's sprung on you, later, when the two of you are filling up gas cylinders.

"I'm not in love with Mikasa." They're heavy words met with silence but he means them, eyes downcast as his hands idle. The silence is damning but you're worth it. By the Walls, you've always been worth it. "And I never have been. I liked her before, but." He gives a slight roll of his shoulders, trying to find the right words.

But he isn't a coward and he doesn't want to waste time, especially knowing that you feel the same way. Looking up, his eyes dart from you, to the wall and back again. "You can't compare to her." And, that sounds so much worse when he says it so he grabs tightly onto your arm, forcing your eyes to meet. "Fuck, I mean, you're not competing with her. Alright?"

He makes a sound, torn between a sigh and a groan as he runs his hands through his hair. "I heard what you said, before, about - You're not her, and I don't want you to be. I'd never choose her over you. I love you." It's not quite what he meant to say but the words fall easily, readily. "And dammit, I really wish you'd choose me too."

Mikasa is, unfortunately, standing behind you when those words leave your lips. When you inevitably turn to face her, there's no hint of what she's thinking visible on her face. Her cool eyes never leave you even when one of the captains walk in to deliver another mission.

Outwardly, everything she does seems to come off as a rejection; she doesn't talk to you about it, doesn't treat you differently. If one considers less and less talk as 'not any different'.

Not talking to you though... it feels like a small candle sputtering out - and her hands burn beneath the wax.

She's... not sure how to process any of that at all. She'd always been so concerned with Eren, with Armin and helping them accomplish their lifelong dreams. She never really took a moment to dwell in her own thoughts.

Her thoughts on Eren were chaotic at best; clouded by their game of tug-of-war, always trying to mother him, protect him. Getting shunned for it. She never had to do that with you - not to the same extent, anyway.

Hearing you say those words - "I like her" -- it's putting a name to the face she'd seen in her mind. Like. Affection. A warmth in her chest whenever she saw you, accompanied with a low and simmering trust. How easy it was, for once, to look at someone and have them look right back, and see her for who she is.

She only mentions it, much later, when you're both assigned to a practice mission. Where only time and the sun overhead is your company, forced to wait idle until a new command is issued.

"I want to talk about what you said," is how she begins. "About liking me." Her hands move to her scarf, something raw wedged in her chest that makes her feel so vulnerable with her face bared. Instead, her fingers loosen and it remains still around her neck. She wants you to see her as she is, what she's offering you.

"Eren is... like family to me. I would do anything for him." It's a brutal, almost cold way that she says those words. She means it, and you mean a lot to her, so she doesn't want any confusion.

"But you are not Eren. You are not family to me and I don't want you to be. You're important to me too. I don't want you to see me as your sister or protector." Her grey eyes search yours, searching for any kind of sign. "I like you too."

Eren has the most physical reaction. Shoulders locking, back straightening and all but sprinting as he rushes up to you. "What!" His mouth is running hot and fast, not able to get the words out fast enough.

Eren is a man of action; thinking things through wasn't his strong suit, nor did it ever have to be. But Mikasa? Mikasa!? Out of everyone? The girl who he grew up with, routinely tried to shield him from everything? Frustration rises hot in his throat as he thinks - didn't you know him at all?

How could he ever like Mikasa when there was you? You who defended him, humoured his ideals, cheered him on during his training, didn't see him for the monster he thought he was.

Weaving between cadets, racing as fast as he can to you, he knows he has to put his foot down. He's tired of all the secrets and lies, and he certainly doesn't want any between the two of you. Not when it's something like this.

"I don't like her!" Each word is punctuated loud and fast, trying to squash that idea as quickly as it came. Why did everybody always think that? He's gestulating, trying to get you to look at him, ignoring how your confidants stare at him. "Mikasa is -" His face scrunches up, harsh words on his tongue, resentful but not towards you. You've never treated him as fragile or incapable. How could he ever think of her that way when you filled that spot?

"We're not like that at all!" He adds, promising himself that he'll explain it in a calmer discussion later. "I wanted you!"

[mommypieck]

𑄽୧ glory hole with eren & jean𔓘 ᰍ

kinktober day 31: who's pussy is this!!!

✿ eren yeager x reader x jean kirstein

✿ warnings: sex clubs, p in v, glory hole, eren & jean treat u like a pocket pussy

The music in the club is loud, and you have to talk loudly to even hear one another. Eren and Jean laugh in their booth, watching a new dancer struggle on the stage.

She's cute, her small body moving in adorable ways, but they both know she's inexperienced. They have seen all of the good dancers in this club, bending their bodies in a way they didn't think was possible.

"What are my regulars doing here?" a familiar voice interrupts their entertainment. They notice Connie, the owner, standing by their boot with a sly smile. They both fist-bump him, just like they used to do in high school. Connie has always wanted to own a club, and he knew that once he had it, his friends would be coming in every week.

"We installed something new last week," Connie tells both of the men. Jean's eyebrows shoot up while Eren asks Connie what's the new thing. Their friend just smiles, telling them to go look into the basement.

"No way, man. I don't wanna get murdered." Jean huffs, he's scared of the basement. Connie once took him in, and it was the scariest experience in his life, talking about the amount of spider webs.

"If you go, you're not going to regret it," Connie says. Some girl comes up to him, wrapping herself around Connie's body. He smiles at her, kissing the top of her breast.

"I'm busy." he mouths at them before letting himself be taken to the side by the foreign girl.

"Man, I really wanna see the basement," Eren says, drowning the rest of his whiskey. Connie is a smart man when it comes to sex stuff, and he wants to know what he came up with. Maybe he installed some toys that fuck girls in front of people.

Jean groans in disapproval but decides to give it a shot. He quickly swallows his glass, the burning liquor always bringing tears to his eyes.

They both stand up, and Eren leads the way to the basement. It's a lot tidier than before, and there are even posters on the way down. There's only one door unlocked, probably the door the surprise is in.

They stare with wide eyes at a hole in the wall. There's a sign next to it saying 'fuck here'.

"He's not normal," Jean exclaims. They both know what it is. Connie installed a glory hole just for the two of them.

"Is anyone inside?" Eren calls out, making Jean punch him in the arm. Eren chuckles at his joke, it was a good one, wasn't it?

"You're a dumbass." Jean scolds him, coming closer to examine the hole.

The first thing he notices is a pussy peeking through the hole. It's a pretty pussy, all pink with a cute clit between juice pussy lips. It seems like it's already wet. He brushes his fingers against the folds, noting that it's already wet.

You jump when someone touches your pussy. You heard what seemed like two men come into the room. Connie promised that they were his friends and they needed some fun. You volunteer to work in his club, loving sex too much.

Another hand caresses your slit, this hand is rougher than the first one. The first one was rough but delicate at the same time. He was being gentle with you, but on the other hand, had one goal - to make you fall apart.

"Who's gonna fuck her first?" you hear one voice ask, you aren't sure about which hand belongs to that owner.

"You really wanna fuck her?" the other voice asks, the other person is more hesitant. Maybe he doesn't wanna fuck you, even though you want to be fucked.

"Yes, I do, jean. It's a free pussy." you hear one of them chuckle. You hear the guy unbuckle his belt, and you almost shake him in anticipation.

You're nervous, this is something you wanted for so long. sweat rises on your forehead as you finally see a dick poking through the hole. It's so close, but still so far.

His tip rubs against your opening, carefully pushing inside of you.

"Shit, she's too tight." Eren moans, sinking the rest of his cock inside of your pussy. He never had a pussy this tight in his entire life. You're sucking him right in. He feels bad that he can't see the owner of this delicious pussy. His arms brace on the wall separating you from him and Jean. Sweet little moans leave your mouth with every thrust he makes, making Eren laugh.

"She's a moaner." he mocks you, deepening his thrusts. He's pretty sure you can take a lot more than what he has to give you, but he's trying to be generous with you.

"Fuck, I won't be able to last long." he moans, speeding his thrusts so he can catch his orgasm. He doesn't care that you won't cum, you're only a hole for him.

You know he's about to cum, and you try to clench down on his cock even more. He has a nice cock, big enough to satisfy you. You yelp when his hot cum fills your body. You just wish you could see how much leaks out.

"You stretched her out too much for me." Jean rolls his eyes, showing Eren to the side so he can take his place. A slutty moan rips through him when he pushes himself all the way in. It's tight, unbelievably tight. You just took a big cock, but your pussy feels like a virgin's.

"She's good, isn't she?" Eren smirks, his cock hardening again as he watches his best friend pump his cock inside of you. Jean can only nod, your pussy left him speechless.

Connie is a dumbass, but something he has fucking good ideas.

Your body moves up and down with every stroke of his cock. This one is different, he's slower, but he makes sure to hit your insides as deep as possible. He's also a bit fatter than the first cock. You just wish it's the "gentle hands' s" dick.

You feel yourself being slowly tipped over the edge of your high. You cum around his cock, squeezing even tighter. It catches him off guard, and he can do nothing else then cum right inside of you.

"What was that?" he breathes as he tries to get over the orgasm he just had. Eren laughs next to him, "Seems like you made our fuck doll cum."

Both men dress themselves up again, fixing their appearance before going upstairs to the club.

Connie is already waiting for them with a girl wrapped around his body. He wears a cheeky smile.

"You look like you enjoyed it," he says, making you stand in front of him before wrapping his arms around your middle and putting his chin on your shoulder, "Y/n here sure had a lot of fun with you too."

taglist: @mcharris747 @huuuuut30 @krispsprite @bejewelledd @cawwn @veryninjanacho @jamayah @dngerwayz @nwptune @universlypiratecolor @ffakegucci @merachannie @d1lf-luvr @th3girln3xtdoor @nobody289x @iheartpieck @gia999 @kawasgirl @st4rrlighttt @candyeyeroll @7haze @banchangsbbbg @nigthmar3moon @softlilpeachxx @d1gitalbathh @jaenniii @raeeesblog @satorustar @balenciagarette @erp1007 @herefor-tojis-tits

[oh-meretseger]

part 8 - Heaven

attack on titan modern college au // Jean Kirstein x fem!reader

summary: you and Jean finally get down to it😏 that’s it, this chapter is porn with a hint of plot hehe

notes: 18+! pure smut, explicit language, dirty talk, Jean just being the soft dom that he is, a lot of praise and begging, mentions of masturbation, oral (m receiving), p in v and cum all over the place lol

word count: 4,3k

Jean felt like he was in a dream. He woke up in the middle of the night to your body tightly swaddled in his arms, melting into him. It felt so unearthly yet so natural, your warmth and sweet scent made him feel like he was still dreaming as he slowly gained consciousness.

The room was pitch black, but Jean was still aware of every part of your body as they intertwined with his. You faced him, your arm wrapped around his torso, legs completely tangled with his, your face buried into the crook of his neck. Hot air tickled the sensitive skin of his neck with each one of your slow breaths as you slept, sending heavenly tingles down Jean's spine. He tightened his arms around you, pulling you into an even closer embrace by your waist.

Jean felt your breathing hitch as your chests pressed together - he could even notice the suddenly sped up beating of your heart, pounding so close to his, he felt himself soften with contentment.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up" Jean whispered against the shell of your ear as you rubbed your eye, feeling small goosebumps appearing on your bare skin under the palm of his hands. You let out a quiet whimper as his hot breath sent shivers through your body, slowly realizing the delightful warmth surrounding you was not because you joined Jean's ethereal dream, but because you were, in fact, in the tight safety of his strong arms.

"It's okay, Jeanbo" you mumbled and Jean let out a soft chuckle, tingles heating up his core once again when you returned the tight hug with a small moan. He just felt so freaking good. "You didn't wake me. I think I'm still dreaming"

"We're in the same dream then" Jean murmured and tried to shift his hips a little further away from you, but it was too late - you already felt his hard-on poking against the fabric of your panties.

"Mhmm" you let out a sigh as you instinctively pushed your hips back into his bulge, Jean's groan just adding even more fuel to the fire quickly forming inside of you.

"Stop" he whispered, then quietly chuckled again as your body instantly followed his pelvis trying to move away from you. The darkness of the room hid your smile, your fingers digging into Jean's tensing biceps as you both felt like you were floating in a hazy and electric, lust-filled dream.

You had only one thing on your sleepy mind as you felt the heat of Jean's bulge between your legs, and you were trying to get it at whatever cost.

"Why?" a desperate whine escaped your throat as you were trying to whisper, your hips rolling into Jean's with a similar despair. His eyes rolled into the back of his skull at the feeling - your eager little sighs and whimpers drove him absolutely crazy, but he still sank his fingers into your hips to keep them from moving.

"Cause I said so" he smiled, lips brushing against your cheek as he leaned close to you. However you tried to move them, his strong hands kept your hips still.

You swiftly pushed yourself up from the mattress, knowing exactly where to reach to turn on the night lamp above your bed. As warm light suddenly filled the room, you looked at the man in front of you, his eyes sleepy and narrow as he squinted, but glistening with arousal, cheeks flushed, his skin hot as his strong muscles held onto you tightly. Jean pulled you closer as he searched your face for a reaction.

"You're so hot, I hate you" you mumbled with a painful agony in your voice. You wanted him so bad - you currently ovulating probably didn't help the situation, you just felt like a damn animal in heat. Jean laughed softly, his nose nudging your chin.

"You turned on the light to tell me that?"

"I turned on the light to see your stupid pretty face" you spoke quietly, biting back your smile as you stared into each other's eyes, your fingers making their way on his face to gently caress his cheek. "But it's way worse now"

"Worse?" Jean smirked, then grabbed your sides to swiftly flip you around. You let out a sigh as he manhandled you, pulling you into him to spoon you from behind, and you felt your core tingle at the heavenly feeling of his lips nibbling on your ear. "Did my stupid face turn you off?"

"No, it—it made me even more wet" you whispered and your eyes fell shut as Jean gently bit your earlobe with a shit-eating grin. He knew exactly how desperate you were to get it - he felt how hot and squirmy your body got under his touch. But teasing you was a bad habit of his he simply couldn't help.

"No naughty stuff, remember?" he replied softly with a smug smile and another painful whine escaped your mouth as your hips rolled back into his growing boner. You could feel he wanted you just as much, yet still refused to give in, driving you fucking insane. "This is an innocent sleepover. Your pussy—" His fingers ran along your bare waist, down to the soft fabric of your cotton panties, ever so gently teasing you through it, the light touch on your clit making you squirm. "—is not allowed to get wet"

"Fuck me, please" you whined and Jean's head started spinning, his fingers digging into your hips as he growled and his teeth sank harder into your earlobe. Hearing your sweet voice talking dirty was one thing that made him instantly lose control. "I need you so bad, Jean, please"

Jean was trying to sober up, his conscious self telling him to stop, but his hips bucked on their own, grinding into yours from behind.

"Feel what you do to me" you grabbed his hand, guiding it up to your stomach, then slipped it down into your panties, between your wet folds, making Jean moan out loud. "You made such a mess of me"

"You're soaked" he grinned as you turned your head to look at him, mocking you with a playful glint in his hazel eyes. "Are you really this desperate for me to fuck you?"

"Fuck you" you moaned as you furrowed your brows, growing frustrated at his mean remarks, though you still bucked your hips against his hand, trying to ease the growing tension in your core. "This is all your fault, I—I hate you so much"

"You hate me, huh?" he smirked while you were practically riding his hand, his achingly erect cock poking your backside. Your desperate humping paired with your cursing made him throb in his boxers, the same way the first time he got off to your annoyed words through the phone. "Why's that?"

"Cause you won't fuck me" you gritted your teeth, words spilling from your mouth with a painful whine. "You know exactly how much I crave you... I want it so—so—"

"Use your words, pretty girl" Jean spoke softly, sliding his fingers back and forth between your wet lips with agonizingly slow motions. "What do you want?"

"I want you inside of me" you moaned, heat spreading across your cheeks.

"You want to be stuffed full of my cock, huh?" his mind darkened hearing your begging whimpers, your voice finally fogging his mind with a lustful haze. "Do you touch yourself thinking of me fucking you?"

"All the time" you nodded as your low-lidded eyes bored into his, memories flooding your brain of every single heated moment you spent in your dorm alone, thinking back to Jean's swollen cock spurting hot cum all over your tongue and face. Although now Jean’s fingers sent way more intense waves of pleasure through you than your eager little fingers could - even if he moved painfully slow on purpose.

“Yeah? You came all over your pretty fingers f’me?”

“Yeah. A lot” you whispered, Jean’s eyes devouring the aroused blush gracing your beautiful face.

"You're a dirty girl" he mumbled against your hot cheek, his soft lips sending shivers down your spine. “Y'want me to fill this messy little pussy?"

You moaned out loud. "Yes, please"

"What's with the fuck you's and I hate you's now?" Jean grinned as his smug smirk burnt your cheeks even more. He was such a bully. As much as he loved seeing you get irritated and bossy, cussing out of aching sexual frustration, he also loved to exploit your state, teasing you for being so fucking desperate for his cock. It filled his mind with a dark cloud, wanting to ruin you and overstimulate your senses until you forgot your name.

"Fuck you" you squinted your eyes in response, biting back your smile as you saw his grin get dangerously devious. You already knew you'd love being a brat for him as you looked at his eyes go dark and his demeanor get calm and stern.

"Watch your mouth, or I'll have to stuff that with something first”

"Oh, look who got so strict all of a sudden" you sneered at him, but yours was met with an even more devilish smile.

Your mouth was stuffed full with his cock in no time. Your back pressed against the side of your bed as you were kneeling on the floor between Jean's legs, your fingers clung onto his big thighs that pressed your upper body into the mattress behind you. His fingers intertwined with your hair as he moved his hips, pushing the sensitive head of his cock past your pretty lips over and over again, trying not to lose his head and push too deep as your jaw struggled to get accustomed to his size. Your big doe eyes blinked up at him, glistening with tears as you got too greedy taking his length, and his heart fluttered in his chest as he realized — he was fucked.

He was in love with you. There was no doubt in his mind anymore.

"Not so fast, love" he tried to pull his hips back as his thumb caressed your cheek, but you moved your head forward to follow his motion, trying to push all of his length into your mouth. You wanted him in your throat. "Hey— careful"

You moaned around his dick in disapproval. Jean shifted his pelvis to pull out, give you a little break, but as soon as his swollen tip left your lips with a quiet pop, your hands already grabbed on his shaft to guide him back where he belonged.

"But I need it"

He let out a soft chuckle, then grasped your wrists to quickly pin them to the mattress, right behind your head.

"Need it, huh?" Jean found you simply adorable. You squirmed impatiently on your knees as he smiled down at you, large fingers gripping his own length, slowly dragging his wet, warm tip along your face. Your tongue automatically hurried to lick his balls, your lips quickly sucking one in your mouth and you moaned at the feeling, your brain melting as Jean's deep grunt hit your ear. He tried hard not to lose his sanity as he glided his sensitive head down your cheek, right to your lips, your mouth obidiently opening. He slapped his heavy cock on your tongue with such loving eyes, you wanted to devour him whole.

"You'll always get everything you want from me, pretty girl" Jean said in a low voice, his fist holding your hair out of your face as you blinked up at him with big, glittering eyes.

"Fuck my mouth, then" you whispered, and his head started spinning. "Please"

"Open" he spoke softly as he pressed his tip to your lower lip and you opened your mouth with a beaming, grateful glint in your eyes, silently thanking him. He saw stars as he pushed past your lips and they wrapped around his sensitive head with such anticipation, your tongue swirling around it, so warm, so welcoming... He couldn't help moaning. "Pretty little mouth feels so good, baby..."

"Mhmm" you responded with a muffled moan as a pool of wetness started to form in your cute panties between your legs, Jean's hard cock filling your mouth so deliciously. You were surrounded by his strong muscles and his scent, making your mind go fuzzy. You felt his fingers tugging on your hair as he moaned and started to push his cock deeper into your mouth, slowly but surely forcing his length down your throat, getting lost in the pleasure you provided him. Just like you wanted him to.

You gagged a little as his swollen tip hit the back of your throat and he groaned loudly. Tears filled your eyes as you looked up at him, silently begging for more. Jean's head buzzed with pleasure as he kept moaning your name, one hand restraining your wrists, one keeping your head in place while he was thrusting his hard cock down your throat over and over again as it clenched around him. Your whole body burned in arousal, gladly struggling not to gag with every push of his pelvis.

"You're doing so good, baby— Breathe through your nose" he murmured and you felt your wetness soak through your panties as he slowly fucked your mouth, his fat tip dragging against your warm tongue. Your sight of him was restricted as your nose pressed into the trimmed hairs at the base of his cock with every thrust. "You wanted this, right? Get your throat fucked like a greedy little slut, huh?"

Jean pulled back a little to look at your face for a reaction and give you a little break. You could almost see small little hearts gleaming in his hazel eyes as he looked into yours, streams of tears soaking your face on both sides, your lips swollen and wet with your saliva, drooling on his thick cock as you nodded frantically in response. What a beautiful mess.

"Yeah, you did. But I'm making you cum first"

Of course the inevitable happened.

Jean grabbed and lifted your body, laying you down on your bed as if you weighed nothing. You gripped the fabric of his shirt as he hovered over you, his lips hungrily moving down between your breasts. Gorgeous, eager light brown eyes shot up to yours when you stopped him from going down on you. "No—"

"What?"

"I want you inside of me" you blurted out, your cheeks burning as your own filthy words reached your ears. "Now"

"I'm not fucking you without eating you out first" Jean slowly shook his head, holding back his grin as he glanced at your desperate expression.

"Jean, please—" you cried out and he couldn't help letting out a small chuckle. "I'm begging you, please, please just fuck me already"

And how could've he resisted those big, glossy eyes of yours, pleading for him to stuff you full of his cock, heavy and aching to reach your deepest, most sensitive parts..?

"Do you want me to fill this pretty little pussy?" Jean's eyes sent shivers down your spine as they darkened on you. You watched the muscles of his broad shoulders tense as he lifted his body, the beautiful edges of his face get closer to you as he leaned over you.

"Yes, please" you mumbled before his soft lips grazing yours made you quietly whine. The hot skin of his large hands left your body as he rolled off of you, getting out of bed to get his backpack.

"Wait a minute"

"No, wait" you blushed at what you were about to suggest. "I wouldn't mind... Uh, can we..."

Jean's movements stilled and he blinked at you, watching your pretty lips form into words that were music to his ears.

"I'm clean and you are, too—"

"I am" he cut you off and his dick throbbed at hearing your sweet voice asking him if he could fuck you raw. "You want to do it without—?"

"Yeah" you nodded as your face burned with a flustered, but excited heat.

Jean felt like he was in heaven. Your gentle little fingers felt like heaven as they moved up his body, helping the rest of his clothes off of him, the warmth of your soft breasts felt like heaven as his chest pressed into it, just like your thighs as his fingers digged into their soft skin, pressing them up and apart to grind his achingly erect cock on your clothed, wet heat.

“Oh my god— Jean” you whimpered, your eyes glued to the delicious movements of his pelvis, the muscles of his core flexing as his thick cock rubbed into you, leaking precum on your wet panties. The heavenly friction and his deep groans vibrating on your neck started to drive you insane. “Uh—hhplease”

“You soaked through your cute little panties, huh?” Jean’s lips curved into a proud smirk as he looked at the huge wet spot on the fabric, slipping his pink tip underneath.

“Holy—fuck” your eyes squeezed shut at the sensation, his cock sliding through the slick between your lips making both of you feel dizzy. “It’s—hah—because of you”

“Yeah? Are you this wet just f’me?” Jean moaned as his lips hovered above yours, and you could swear you were melting under his pretty eyes.

“Yeah” you whimpered.

“Let’s take this off of you” his index finger hooked into the hem of your panties, and you lifted up your hips in anticipation.

You were finally fully naked in no time, the pair of panties falling to all the other pieces of clothes jumbled on the floor. Jean sat back for a moment, admiring the beautiful art that was your naked body as the night lamp bathed it in warm light, spread out in front of him like a ravishing painting, making him fall in trance.

“You’re breathtaking” his fingers gently ran along your thighs and spread them apart as you blushed and tried to close them in embarrassment. “No, no… Don’t cover your face, angel”

“Your eyes are burning me” you chuckled behind your fingers and the warmth on your cheeks turned even hotter as Jean leaned over you, grabbing your hand from your face.

“Good, keep your pretty eyes on them” he mumbled, then kissed you as his fingers intertwined with yours.

You moaned into Jean’s mouth, slowly kissing and holding hands while his hips rutted into yours. You lost all sense of reality as you felt your bodies melt together, tongues twirling around each other, whispering quiet, sweet little words to one another, lips and hands wandering around to caress each other with such care and affection, it simply made you feel so in love.

The impatient urge you felt earlier turned into a tight, warm knot in your core as Jean pressed his tip to your drenched entrance.

“It’s not gonna fit” you let out a painful chuckle as you both glanced down at the messy wetness where your bodies met. Jean positioned himself to be comfortably set between your thighs.

“It is, we’ll make it fit” he reassured you. “I’ll go slow, okay?”

“Okay” you blinked up at him as he smiled, eyes flicking down to your lips, swollen and glistening from kissing.

“Just kiss me”

Making out did make it seem a lot easier, immediately. With every soft move of Jean’s lips, every swirl of his warm tongue, the slick between your legs grew more and more. The head of his cock pressed into your entrance just right, kissing it gently with every small thrust of his hips.

“You don’t have to be so slow” you whined quietly and Jean smiled at your desperate tone against his lips.

“Sshhh, it’s okay, baby” he replied and one of his fingers slipped into your mouth. You sucked on it obediently, your fingers digging into the large muscles of his back while Jean pushed just a little bit more into you. “S’that feel good?”

“Mm yeah—more please” you moaned and Jean tried to keep his composure. Your desperate moaning and whimpering drove him crazy, he had to gather all his strength to keep from mindlessly drilling his cock into you.

"Holy shit— You're so tight, baby" Jean grunted and you hissed as his fat tip pushed through the tight ring of muscles. "Does it hurt?"

"Just—just a little bit. Please don't stop" your voice was shaky from the pent-up frustration, and even though Jean being so caring made you even wetter, you wished you could already feel all his length inside you.

"I'm sorry, pretty" he laid a small kiss on your cheek and your hands slid down to his hips, gripping into them as they moved with a steady pace, thrusting his cock deeper and deeper into you as your walls molded to his girth. “You're taking me so well..."

"Jean it—it feels so good"

"Yeah? I'm making this pretty tight pussy feel good?" he groaned into your mouth as you eagerly tried to kiss him, your pussy squelching around him with a filthy sound while you nodded frantically. "Aw am I stretching this wet little cunt so good? Take it, pretty girl"

The truth was, you both felt like you were in heaven. The intimate and affectionate, quiet little moments turned hurried and passionate as Jean fucked you, your legs wrapped around him as his hard cock split you open, dragging along your drenched walls with such pleasurable strokes, both of your heads started swirling. You didn’t even notice how loud the lewd mixture of the wet squelching and your moans and groans got - but you wouldn’t have cared anyway.

“Wet little pussy’s stretching around me so well” Jean’s devious smile just made your brain even mushier, turning off completely as you clang onto his strong arms for dear life. “Y’like getting stuffed full of my cock?”

“Y—yeah” you whimpered, but you didn’t even know how you got that one word out. Jean’s thick and rock-hard length moving in and out of you sent a pleasure through your whole body you’ve never felt before.

“Look into my eyes, pretty” he hummed, but the sight of your lashes fluttering up at him, big doe eyes sparkling, cheeks and lips hot and flushed made him come dangerously close to the edge already. Jean moaned your name as he slowed his thrusts down, burying his face into the crook of your neck. He couldn’t cum so fucking fast.

"Don't stop, baby" you whined, being so close to your peak yourself as your hips bucked up, desperate for more of him inside you. "You're gonna make me cum"

"I can't hold it much longer" Jean mumbled into your ear and you sank your fingers into the tense muscles of his ass. Weirdly, that statement alone would’ve been enough to make you cum. There was something so endearing and arousing about being pinned to the mattress by such a big, strong man, and making him feel so good that he just can’t keep himself from cumming.

"I don't care” you replied, your eyes pleadingly piercing through his. “I want you to cum all over me"

"Oh, fuck” Jean moaned as your soft lips grazed his, his hips picking up a faster pace once again as your words darkened his mind, making him chase his high. He felt your pussy clench around him as his cock pounded into you, hitting all your sensitive spots so perfectly, the knot in your stomach came undone incredibly quickly. “Thaaat’s it… Cum all over my cock, my gorgeous girl”

“JEAN” you cried out as your orgasm washed through you, the crushing wave of pleasure sending you in a dimension that was unknown to you up to this point. Jean’s hard cock fucked you through your peak, and as his arms kept your trembling legs spread wide open, you lying in front of him as a flushed, drooling, babbling mess, your perfect tits bouncing with each thrust of his hips - he couldn’t hold it any longer, either.

“You’re making me cum, baby…”

“Cum—HA—all over me, pretty boy” you panted and watched him push himself up, big hands gripping your thighs as he stuffed his cock into you, messy, ashy brown strands of hair falling to his face and movements becoming sloppier as he looked at your fucked out expression. You’ve never seen a sight so fucking hot. “Make a mess f’me, Jean”

Jean glanced down at your wet folds swallowing his cock, creaming around him so beautifully and his eyes darted right back at yours as he was trying to comprehend the perfect fucking dream that was you lying in front of him. Your eyes sank deep into each other and that was it - an intense white pleasure blinded him as he pulled out, moaning your name and jerking his cock as white ropes of cum spurted all over your body with such force, the skin of your tits, your stomach, the soft lips of your pussy all glistened with his semen.

“Oh my god” you muttered as your fingers quickly moved to gather his hot cum, Jean breathing heavily as his muscles relaxed, completely spent and exhausted. His hands ran along your thighs before his thumb found its way to your sensitive clit, rubbing slow circles on it as both of your wetness mixed.

“You’re fucking perfect”

“D’you promise we’ll do more of that?” your eyes were bleaming with such joy, Jean let out a quiet laugh. He leaned down to press a sweet kiss on your adorable lips before responding. “If we go back to sleep now…”

“I promise, pretty girl” Jean’s heart fluttered at the sight of your smile and your fingers smoothed a few strands of hair out of his handsome face, still warm and blushed. “Now let’s get you cleaned up”

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

✧.*my aot headcanons masterlist✧.*

Reiner Braun - first time dad | wedding | boyfriend | sick | hairstyle | loud cadet drabble

Jean Kirstein - slowburn fanfic | nsfw breeding | sick | husband | boyfriend | first time dad | drunk | ex boyfriend | nsfw alphabet | dilf!jean drabble | younger bf | lipstick drabble | rockstar bf | stalker!jean one shot | levi’s daughter | kidnapped!reader oneshot | you’re drunk | lipstick 2 | blizzard

Armin Arlert - first time dad | husband | boyfriend | sick | stoner | hairstyle | NSFW transfem!reader oneshot

Erwin Smith - wedding | boyfriend | scout drabble

Eren Jaeger - sick | husband | boyfriend | first time dad

Zeke Jaeger - boyfriend | hairstyle

Levi Ackerman - wedding | boyfriend | ex boyfriend | ex-husband | lawyer | roommate

Connie Springer - boyfriend | loud cadet drabble

Annie Leonheart - girlfriend | drunk

Mikasa Ackerman - girlfriend | drunk

Sasha Braus - girlfriend

Ymir - girlfriend | drunk

Historia Reiss - girlfriend

Pieck Finger - girlfriend | ideal woman

Porco Galliard - sick

Mixed Boys Only - gamer | nsfw period sex | kissed for a dare | coparenting | cadet glow up | your song | rejection | rejection wlw | mute reader | coming out mlm | SFW bimbo | NSFW brazilian | asthma | same personality | new cadet | rumor | friends with benefits | you want to drive

Mixed Girls Only- proposal | glow up |

Mix - scary movies | your ideal type isn’t them | cigarettes | you cheated on them | random hc | allergies | home screen | excited & exhausted

[hinasakuino]

Jean can fuck! I’m sorry this is for my extremely depraved girlies! And self indulgent because Jean brainrot occurs nonstop! NSFW below the cut.

Warnings: nsfw 18+, some dirty talk,mentions of nipple play, finger fucking, pussy eating, doggy, missionary.

I imagine he’s an attentive lover, he makes sure he’s kissed every inch of exposed skin before fully undressing you. He loves staring at you, even if you squirm under his gaze, jutting your hips in the air, clenching on nothing as you try to get him to touch you wordlessly. It strokes his ego big time when he’s got you speechless and whimpering for him. Which is why he always gives you what you want. He hates teasing you because he enjoys watching the way you give into pleasure. He’s very big into foreplay, loves kissing big time(!!!) Early into the relationship he’d feel just a little embarrassed everytime you guys made out, always shoving you away quickly to hide his raging hard on. You liked this, teasing him about it until he has you pinned and gasping, his hand wrapped around your throat as he kisses you, grinding into you so frantically you’re not sure which one of you might come first. He loves playing with your tits especially when you’re on top facing him. He loves getting you worked up like this, you’re so responsive to his touch, cradling his head and holding him closer as you grind down in his lap. Ohhhhh!! Mans also eats for his pleasure. He loves playing with your pussy with you in his lap but he goes crazy pleasing you the most with his mouth. You get so wet when he laps at your clit, his warm tongue curling around your bud sends tidal waves of pleasure through you, you’re quick to put your hands in his hair, pulling and tugging when he’s got you close. It works you up even more when you see him rutting into the mattress because he really gets off to you getting off.

Oh! And he talks you through it! So filthy with it too!

When he plays with your pussy with you spread in his lap, he likes to leave open mouth kisses down your neck, sucking softly at your sweet spots, chuckling when you press more on his fingers. “Look at you dirty girl,” He’d say smirking when you shake your head no but your pussy throbs, squeezing onto him.

“Cmon I can feel you getting ready to cum for me,” He ruts against you, cock painfully hard as you moan loudly, grasping his bicep, your hips wiggling wildly.

“I can’t baby,”You warn, taking a deep breath, he spreads your legs wider, fingers pumping in and out and with his other hand rubbing your clit in quick precise circles.

“One more big one baby, come on do this for daddy,” he bites into your shoulder. It's harsh but that quickly is replaced by his tongue, hot and warm as he licks where he just bit. And it rips an orgasm through you. Sendings your eyes rolling with his name coming out in quick pants as you make a mess on him.

“That’s it baby, give it to me, I wanna see how dirty I can get you,” He huffs, breath hot as he continues finger fucking you through your orgasm.

He absolutely loves when you come on his dick. He likes having you doggy, back arched, arms restricted and pussy on full display. He doesn’t like to tie you up but he does like using his strength on you, placing your arms behind your back as he fucks you, or have you fuck back onto him. He loves it when you’re so cock drunk you let him use you, rolling your hips back and forth onto himself, groaning at the way your walls mold to his length.

When he cums, it’s a lot. I want to believe he’s a moaner, but I also imagine him as the type of guy who relishes in the feeling of his orgasm so he’s always mumbling incoherently, sweet words pouring from his mouth saying how good you make him feel. If you’re fucking in missionary, he cums quicker because he absolutely can’t tear his eyes away from your needy ones. He watches where you’re both joined, your pussy sucking him back in your fingers rub quick needy circles on your clit and it pushes him over the edge, grunting out a small “oh fuck, I’m cumming”, before spilling inside you.. At the start of the relationship he always made sure to pull out and would jerk off into his hand until one day you positioned yourself in front of him, doe-eyed and wanting. Mouth open and inviting and he cums almost instantly all over your face (it’s so much and he immediately feels bad), the image is burned into his brain and he stores it away in the spank bank whenever you two are apart.

He’s big on aftercare, will clean you up, and ask if you need anything before cuddling the absolute shit out of you. He’s not clingy but he loves the skin to skin contact, and the way you fit perfectly into him. He’s not a talker afterwards but neither are you, so you both either fall asleep after five minutes or he watches with you as you scroll through videos on your phone.

[xfgpng]

𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲, 𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 —

— : [ nsfw ] car sex, dacryphilia, pet names, unprotected sex, spanking, riding + jean is so whipped

— : wc : 766

he likes to pretend he’s not a softy. he doesn’t need his friends teasing him anymore than they already do and he definitely doesn’t need them knowing how good your pussy makes him feel.

he’s so whipped for you. he really does love everything about you but there’s something so sinful about the way you grip and clench around him. the way you whisper in his ear and kiss your way up his neck to his lips. he’s so horny around you even when you’re doing the most mundane things.

jean is not the submissive type and he’s always the one in control but he’s never really been able to deny you anything and when it comes to fucking you? he makes sure to keep you more than satisfied.

the first time it happened, he hadn’t even been aware of it. he was moaning louder than usual, head tossed back as you rode him his the backseat of his car. you were an impatient thing, always getting your way.

he could feel his toes curling in his shoes, grip around your hips so tight it hurt. you felt heavenly around him, bouncing up and down with so much energy, the poor man was surprised at his own ability to keep up with you.

“fuck baby, fuck” he whines, a sob wracking through his entire body that he shakes, the muscles in his abdomen clenching and unclenching with the intensity. it shocks you that you end up cumming, head tucked in the crook of his neck.

it wasn’t until you were pulling back that you saw his face. pretty eyes glass from the way he had teared up. he was biting his lip hard so you lean in to kiss his jaw softly.

“you okay baby?” you whisper, wrapping his arm around his neck as the other hand came up to wipe his eyes and cup his jaw. he really was so handsome.

“y-yeah” he nods, bottom lip quivering as he tried to catch his breath. he was so embarrassed and he didn’t know why. he had never felt that good in his life and he knows he’s never cried just from sex.

“aw sweetheart” you coo, “it’s okay, you made me feel so good”

you placed soft kisses across his face and you slowly moved your hips. the slow grinding with his cock still nestled inside you caused him to whine against your lips.

“shhh” you said gently, “let me take care of you”

he loved aftercare more than he cared to admit. you were so gentle and soft and he knew he’d make it up to you as soon as he calmed down.

sex with you was so intense that he found himself whimpering and tearing up whenever you sucked him off. kissing and sucking your way down to his balls. he was so in love with you that it hurt to think about.

jean was obsessed it almost scared him.

“so good” you gasp, gripping the pillow beneath you as he fucked into you hard and fast. he needed to feel all of you, pulling the condom off when you begged him to. he was more than happy to cum inside you.

“i know” he groans, slapping your ass hard. it sent a shiver up your spine so he did it a few more times until you were the one crying for him.

he could feel you creaming his cock and he would make a mental note to record the next time he fucked you. it wasn’t enough for him to just burn the images of you like this in his mind. he needed to watch it over and over to see you like this.

just for him.

you weren’t any better yourself. it turned you on to know you could reduce jean to a crying, whimpering mess. it was always amusing to watch him lose himself while he fucked you like he didn’t love you. his eyes would shine bright with unshed tears and he’d bite his bottom lip, the inside of his cheek or you to stop himself from sobbing as he came.

you loved to watch him whine when you rode him. he couldn’t hide from you as you gripped his jaw, kissing his lips every once in a while to watch him squirm. he was so embarrassed and you loved it.

when he was cumming, it was the only time jean showed any signs of being a little submissive. you had no idea just what you did to him but he’d never complain.

he hoped it would never change.

[uhzuku]

𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘. | 𝐉. 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: more than anything, he just wants her to be happy.

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: attack on titan | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: jean kirstein/f!reader, former eren jaeger/f!reader, mentioned background eren jaeger/jean kirstein | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 17.94k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: canonverse, spoilers for chapters 131-139, angst, character death, previously established relationship ( eren jaeger/reader), smut, slow burn?? maybe kinda, jean has ptsd, formerly unrequited love, terminal illness, lovemaking, gentle sex, kissing, hand holding, slight scratching, missionary, mention of animal death.

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 in what felt like a long time, Jean didn’t know what to do. 

It had been a few months since their hellish lives had come to a head, and while the remaining members of the secondary Levi Squad and their Captain were happy it was all over, the realization that Y/N knew Eren’s plan months before he went through with it was crushing to them. 

Armin and Mikasa had suspected, of course — they all had, if they were honest, she and Eren had been so serious that they were more than willing to murmur back and forth about wedding plans when everyone else was around, and every time they did it warmed their friend’s hearts ( and made another’s hurt, but he was too content with the fact that Y/N would be happy to even think about fighting for her now ). In hindsight now, though, Jean guessed, it was all a mask for them to keep Eren’s plans all hush-hush. He knew that if he’d found out, even he would have definitely fought to keep Eren on their island where it was safe regardless of how often they’d bickered back and forth, because whether he admitted it or not, Jean did care about Eren and he wanted him to live.

“You’re all leaving?” Her voice is shaky and quiet, a stark difference when compared to how she’d been hoarse for two weeks from the way she’d screamed when Eren’s Founder had collapsed. 

The Captain scoffs, and Jean winces at the sound. He’d always been more than tolerant of Y/N, more so than he’d ever been of the rest of them even, but ever since she’d admitted that she knew what Eren was going to do before he did he’d held her at an arms’ length just like the rest of them had. He doesn’t say anything, of course, because he hadn’t spoken to Y/N even once in the months following her confession, and every time he avoided talking with her Jean could see how much it hurt her — he’d even say with confidence that she’d prefer being struck by him than ignored, but the Captain didn’t even look at her anymore unless he absolutely had to, so that wouldn’t happen any time soon either ( and honestly Jean had a strong feeling in his gut that their Captain was hurting far more than he wanted to admit, not only about her confession but about both Eren and Commander Hange as well; everyone knew that the Captain had a soft spot for them both regardless of how he spoke to them ).

Jean could admit that he understood how betrayed the Captain felt if he was honest. 

“We don’t belong in Marley, Y/N,” Conny mutters, refusing to look at her. He’d avoided her completely since they’d found out, almost as much as the Captain, even; Jean immediately looks down at his shoes when he sees the way her face falls. It hurt him to look at her, hurt to see the way she was desperately searching all of their faces for some hint that it was a cruel joke as a means of some sort of revenge on her for holding her tongue while remembering how she’d blurted out a confession to being aware of Eren’s plan for mass genocide. “There’s no way we’d ever stay. We’re going back to Paradis.”

“But the peace treaty—!“ Y/N argues softly, mentioning the treaty that had come about thanks to Eren’s actions coupled with their own, but no one there really gives half a shit about the treaty but her at that point. they’re all far too impatient to get on the boat and leave Marley for good. 

“Deal with that yourself if it’s so important to you,” Mikasa says through gritted teeth, interrupting the other woman. “We have to get back, Historia’s still on bed rest from giving birth so Armin’s holding down the entire island right now.”

As Jean boarded the boat, he remembered the look on Y/N’s face when she found out Armin had left without saying goodbye to her specifically, and he recognizes that same look on her face as she watches Conny push the Captain’s wheelchair over the onramp to board the boat. “I’ll wait here for all of you,” she whispers, her eyes never straying from the Captain’s back, “even if it takes a whole ten years, I’ll wait—“

“You’ll be waiting a hell of a lot longer than that,” Conny grumbles under his breath, not intending for her to hear it but her hearing it all the same. Jean’s heart plummets in his chest when he sees the look in her eyes shatter and a barely visible veil wash over them.

The same walls she’d lowered with them one by one back in their cadet days had just gone back up. 

She whispers gentle goodbyes to all of them, getting huffs from the majority of the group, a single muttered complaint from Mikasa, and a quiet “Goodbye,” from Jean himself, but the last person she looks at still won’t look at her. Regardless, she bids him farewell in the only way she can now even though she knows he won’t answer. 

“Goodbye, Captain,” she whispers softly, a heavy silence filling the space between them all, and as the boat pulls away from where it was onced docked at the pier Jean sees the tears form in her eyes; they’d all hurt her by leaving this way, he knew that they had, but what were they supposed to do? She could have talked Eren down, she was always able to talk him down, but she didn’t — instead she ran off with him to Marley and helped him trick Falco before starting the Rumbling and a mass march for genocide. 

Regardless of this, though, Jean still has an aching feeling in his chest telling him that he wasn’t making the right choice. 

He looks up at her again, the breeze making her hair move ever so slightly with each soft burst and her skirts dancing around her legs as she stood there watching them leave her, her arms hanging limp at her sides as she stood alone for the first time in her life. She wasn’t making a single sound, just watching them go with tears running down her cheeks before she looks down and lifts one scarred hand to wipe them away with the backs of her knuckles, tearing her eyes from them for the first time all day today. 

Go. 

Jean didn’t know who or what told him to, he just knew he needed to get back to her, and he ignored the strange surge of familiarity that came with the urge. 

Go back onto the pier now. Go, before you’re too far. Before it’s too late. 

At the last second — and with everyone he’d boarded the boat with shouting for him to come back in clear panic, even the Captain ( something he took a silent pleasure in later, because apparently he did care about them all after all despite the facade he always put on ) — he makes a mad dash for and hops the railing on the deck of the ship then jumps again, barely catching himself on the edge of the  pier. Splinters puncture his fingers as he claws at the wood and his feet kick at open air as everything from his shoulders down dangles off the side. He looks up, his hair wild and poking into his eyes, and sees that she’s still not noticed thanks to the bustle on the rebuilt pier. The voices of his friends echo behind him as he finally finds a foothold and pushes himself up and onto the pier, resting on his hands and knees for just a second to catch his breath before looking up so quickly his hair flips out of his eyes and then pushing himself up. 

He’s running to her now, pushing his way through the crowd in his desperation, and Y/N looks up just as he throws his arms around her, cradling her close to himself and whispering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I won’t leave you too, Y/N, I promise…”

He feels her hug him back tightly and start crying into his chest, and he just holds her and repeats himself while petting her hair gently, neither of them looking back to the boat that was still ever so steadily getting further and further away from both of them, and for the time being they don’t care at all. They just hold one another, taking comfort in the familiar warmth they both gave off even as it began to rain and people around them started pulling out umbrellas. Jean carefully pulls her over to a stand and buys one, opening it up while letting her keep her arms around his waist before offering his arm. 

“Let’s go back to the apartments, Y/N,” Jean whispers, referring to the apartment set  gifted to them by the Marleyan government as reparations, and she just nods tiredly before linking her arm through his and resting her head on his bicep. 

I hope this makes you happy, runs unspoken in his mind, but he shakes it away and they walk away from the pier in the rain together, their backs to the ocean in a way they both wished Eren had chosen all those years ago. 

It  had been so long since he’d had the time or privilege to notice, but Y/N was an exceptionally hard worker. 

Maybe that was why Commander Smith was so fond of letting her help him in his office with his paperwork that he’d send into the Capitol in Sina; she wasn’t one to make mistakes, and it showed as she worked hard in her government issued office in Marley as she worked tediously going over the peace treaty offered to Paradis by all of the major nations that had formerly condemned it and it’s residents’ existences. It took hours of the day away from her, forced a worrisome amount of exhaustion to overtake her normally breathtaking features, and in between every little fix to the documents she made, she had what felt like endless visitors from hizuru and other countries popping in to add their own pieces and request slots to sign the treaty at the upcoming celebration of three years’s peace that Marley was hosting. Marleyan officers were, of course, also among the foot traffic that made its way in and out of Y/N’s office, only the majority of them now had a different respect for her in a way Jean hadn’t experienced in his years in Marley undercover.  

“She’s beautiful for a devil,” one had muttered, his friend chastising him immediately for calling her such a name after three years of such easy, unparalleled peace, and then his eyes had widened in shock when he rounded the corner and realized Jean had heard what he’d said and was staring him down in an anger he’d not been on the receiving end of in years. 

“She’s so kind! She’s nowhere near being the devil we were told they’d all be, and you know it,” his friend had hissed, bowing to Jean immediately. “I apologize for what he said, please forgive us both.”

Jean had looked at him half in disgust and half in hesitance; this was the first time a soldier from Marley had bowed to him despite the three years of peace their nations had shared, and he didn’t really know what to do. On the one hand he was grateful that the soldier spoke up for her, but on the other he didn’t know whether or not this was all a front to save face since he’d overheard them. What to do?

He was about to answer when his attention is caught by someone else. “Oh, let them alone, Jean,” Y/N’s voice had called from the doorway to her office, and everyone turned to look at her. She was leaning against the doorframe, and the brightness in her voice and the way she looked hadn’t managed to betray the exhaustion Jean saw clearly in her eyes. Absently he wondered if Armin was half as tired running the military back home in Paradis, but he shook it off in favor of quietly huffing towards the two soldiers then striding past them to join Y/N at the doorway to her office. She smiles at him once he reaches her, and says, “Thank you,” before ushering him inside her office and closing the door behind them both. 

Sighing heavily, she tiredly walked towards the chair that stood behind her desk and then practically collapsed into it, her head in her hands, which was where they were now. “I’m so tired, Jean — I don’t know what to do anymore,” she admits, “Why did they have to choose me as the standing foreign ambassador for Paradis? I’m going to make a mess of everything.”

Jean sends her a soft smile and strides over to her, leaning against her neatly put together desk. “No, you won’t — you’re doing a great job, I promise. You’re just tired is all, because frankly you haven’t been sleeping enough.” It was true; most nights after he forced her to go home and to bed he’d hear her walking around downstairs absentmindedly even at the wildest hours possible, whether he’d woken from some nightmare of the past or he himself had stayed up working. 

“You think so?” she asks softly, looking up at him with slightly widened eyes. He nods, and she sends him a fond smile. “What would I do without you here with me?” she asks sweetly, squeezing his hand, and he practically melts. 

“I — I — I have no idea,” he murmurs, looking down at her and how she held the back of his hand to her cheek with his own burning in an almost violent blush. She chuckles softly, a smile curling the corners of her lips upwards ever so slightly. 

“I think I’d be a wreck,” she whispers, squeezing his hand again one last time before letting go and standing from her seat. She strides back to the door and opens it, popping her head out and politely asking a maid, “Would you mind readying a pot of tea and a cup of coffee for my office?” Jean hears the other woman ( she was much older than Y/N, he knew, and she’d worked in the building for years before the Rumbling had reached Marley’s shores — despite that, though, he’d heard her telling the other maids that she’d never been treated as kindly by anyone else as she was when she worked under someone dubbed ‘a devil’ by the government ) give a swift affirmative and take off as fast as her middle aged knees would allow her. 

“That woman’s a saint,” he mutters, sitting down in one of the comfy leather chairs in front of Y/N’s desk. “I’m only twenty-two and my knees and hips seem to want me dead for what I've put them through — and don’t even get me started on the pain from my back!”

“That’s because of our use of the 3DM gear,” Y/N replies from the door, closing it gently and striding back over; Jean hears the heels she insisted on wearing to work ( no matter how many times he told her they were impractical and she’d agreed ) clicking against the dark hardwood floors as she approached him. She slips in front of him and sits on the lip of the desk with a soft smile on her face. “They’ve always caused physical issues with the bodies of Scouts, retired or otherwise, due to their prolonged use in the field. Captain Miche used to complain of it often.” She smiles wistfully, and Jean remembers that before she was on the Levi Squad with Eren and himself she fought under Captain Miche Zacharias — at least she did until her own squad was wiped out thanks to the Beast Titan, and starting with Captain Zacharias himself. Jean frowns as he also remembers that Y/N had witnessed the entire thing, the Beast Titan letting her go after recognizing her as ( unbeknownst to them at the time ) ‘the girl his little brother was smitten over’. She’d been forced to watch from the back of her horse in horror as he was ripped to pieces by titans right in front of her; she’d told Commander Smith in front of everyone that Zacharias’ last words to her were for her to save herself and warn the others of what they’d seen, and she’d not spoken of him since. 

“So you’re still as smart as Hange said you were,” Jean says through a tired grin of his own instead of what else he was thinking of, and he places a hand on Y/N’s knee as she looks away from him seemingly to hide the look on her face; unbeknownst to him her face is burning from embarrassment, but regardless of whether or not he’d ever notice ( would he feel the heat she could swear was emanating from her cheeks? Y/N had no idea, therefore the safest bet was to look away while she regained her composure ) she looks away and out the window, watching the bird that always seemed to be nearby fly past. 

“Being good at making observations doesn’t make one smart,” she mutters quietly, and Jean just laughs. 

“Well, I think you’re smart, and you can’t change my mind — if you weren’t smart, how would you keep all the old politicians in line as well as you do?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, and she scoffs playfully. 

The sound of a knock on the door rings through the room, the sound of the maid just sent off for tea and coffee having come back with it coming through it, though her voice was muffled. Y/N stands back up and walks to the door, replying teasingly as she does, “Those old men aren’t exactly focusing on my smarts as much as they are my physical attributes.”

Jean stews over this information with a pout on his face and his arms crossed as Y/N takes the heavy tea tray and thanks the maid, who closes the door for her since her hands were full, then carefully walks back with it to her desk. She picks out the dish filled with fresh chamomile leaves and flowers and sprinkles equal amounts in one of the pyramid shaped teabags before carefully placing it in the teacup the maid had brought for him. Noticing that Jean’s been quiet, she decides to mention it. “Something on your mind?” she asks lightly, focusing on pouring the steaming water into Jean’s cup, and he sighs. 

“I just… just thought that thinking all those old political codgers staring at you was just me,” he admits, and she just chuckles in response and begins adding the perfect amount of honey and milk to his tea with a small shake of her head. 

“They don’t actually look to me as a figure of authority, Jean,” she says quietly, “And they never will. They just know that if they hand me more paperwork that they don’t want to do, I'll do it — and before you say it, yes I’m going to continue to do it.” She’d interrupted him before he even managed to get his protests for her to tell them all to do their own, and he just silently takes his cup and stews over this information as well while she begins to sip at her coffee.

It wasn’t fair. She was amazing, her work ethic unparalleled, and as a reward they objectified her like she was nothing but a slab of meat and they treated her like horse shit. It made him want to burn everything to the ground in her name, just so the bastards would realize that she deserved better. 

Is this how you felt, Eren? he thinks, sipping the honey chamomile tea in his hand. Is this how it feels to want to burn everything to the ground for the one you love when you know their life will be a hard one?

Jean finds the celebratory banquet following the peace negotiation beyond extravagant. 

Several large tables stood in front of the walls of the dining hall in the capital, an almost endless line of chairs ( but really only a few hundred — seven, maybe? ) and candles filled golden sconces along the walks and a series of thirty candelabras or so per table, and the food was more than anything Jean had ever experienced before. The men and women around him were dressed their absolute best in silks and velvets and fabrics he’d never even seen before — but that was only after everyone had joined him downstairs. The night had initially started off seriously with around three hundred and seventy or so politicians, ambassadors, and rulers of various nations gathering in a large meeting room and taking a seat at one of four tables along each wall so that they could face everyone in the room. Jean had not been one of these people unfortunately, considering he had no political power and no longer was a member of the Paradisian military, and because of this he’d been forced to follow a few members of staff downstairs to wait in the dining hall with the delegations that had come with each person who did go inside. 

As the long hours passed by with no sound coming through the doors of the room upstairs, waiters went around the room, offering wine to the waiting companies, and Jean’s hand shook without him intending it to as he took a glass from one man and accepted a rather generous pour of the red liquid into it. He hesitated to drink it, memories of past allies turned beasts because of poisoned wine flickering in his mind like one of those novel motion pictures that had started becoming popular in the last few months ( Jean himself wasn’t much of a fan of them, but his heart twinged every time he saw a flyer for them and he thought about how much Conny or Sasha would have loved them ). He still remembered staring down at a monstrous Pixis, damned to a hunger that even Jean knew after what had happened in The Battle of Heaven and Hell ( as people who weren’t there had dubbed it; Jean supposed it fit, seeing as Eren’s name had morphed from what it was to whispers of ‘The True Devil of Paradis’ once they’d been saved and the rebuilding had started ), a hunger that couldn’t ever be sated. 

Eventually loud crashes had sounded as the doors above them closed, and footsteps echoed overhead as everyone in the meeting hall began making their way downstairs and to the dining hall. Y/N was one of the last to enter the room, taking her place by the leaders of Marley, Hizuru, and a handful of other primary nations as they announced with bright, fake smiles that the peace plan was a success and that starting from that moment all gathered nations had allied themselves with one another. Cheers had filled the room, and Jean had seen Y/N’s sigh with relief before taking a glass of wine for herself ( also with a hesitation, he’d noticed ) before he made the decision to make his way through the celebrating throngs to stand by her side. 

“So I’m guessing everything went well?” he asks after finally sidling up to her, motioning to imply his intentions to tip some of his wine into her glass to refill it once he saw she was getting low ( despite holding it for only a few minutes as Jean struggled to get to her through the crowd ) then just shrugging and swapping glasses with her. She chuckles and nods her thanks to him, taking a sip. 

Swallowing the wine in her mouth, Y/N licks her lips slightly. “Yes, thank Ymir,” she replies, leaning against him slightly. She sounded absolutely exhausted, but she continued so she could bring him up to speed. “Signatures from every person present in the room were laid on the document I wrote; no one had any issues with the wording or anything.”

Jean’s eyes widen, and he lets out a shocked bark of a laugh, “That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you.”

She smiles at him softly but doesn’t say anything, sipping at her ( his ) wine quietly after tearing her eyes from his and looking out over the raucous crowd. He stands closer to her, careful to not let himself get bumped by the people rushing past, which is how they spend the next two or so hours ( in between visiting dignitaries rushing up to speak to Y/N and congratulate her on a wonderfully written treaty ). 

By Ymir, I hope you’re happy, he thinks, sipping at a glass of champagne and watching Y/N flit sociably around the room. He could tell by the way that she smiled at each person that came up to her and vice versa that she was uncomfortable, and that the look in her eyes wasn’t excitement like everyone else clearly thought but anxiety. Y/N hated large crowds of people, but somehow she always managed to work her way through them better than any extrovert he’d ever met; it had always been something Jean admired about her, if he was honest. 

Another hour passes of Jean in a corner and Y/N speaking with various men and women before it’s announced that they’ll be moving again. Jean looks for Y/N in the crowd and notices once he spots her that, despite being dressed just as prettily as the other women ( more so, in Jean’s opinion, but this was a celebration of a peace treaty being signed so he couldn’t very well insult the citizens of visiting nations ), she’s obediently following the people who’d signed the treaty without hesitation. She doesn’t look back for him, not even once, and it makes something ugly-feeling twist in his belly as he sullenly follows her as well as the rest of the crowd. 

He’s led into a massive ballroom, and above them all hung an enormous chandelier made of crystal and gold that lit up the room; Jean remembered Y/N complaining that it would take months to be handmade because she was given a specific deadline before the time that the chandelier would be done, but the artists who had made it had forgone all other projects in order to focus on it when Y/N had offered them extra payment if they could please get it there even a half hour before the following dining began. They’d gotten it finished a week early, and Y/N had gone out of her way to praise their work and time efficiency, and they’d smiled as Y/N gave them payment even more than what they’d been promised ( they’d argued at first, but Y/N insisted that they keep it and after a lot of pleading from both sides they had ).

As all of this runs through his mind, he’s startled by a hand being placed on his arm. It’s touch is instantly familiar and as soon as he locks eyes with Y/N he relaxes, calmed by her presence alone. 

“Dance with me?” she offers quietly, holding her other hand out to him. He takes it up immediately and leads them both to the dance floor amongst the other pairs that had settled together. Resting one hand on her waist and holding one of her hands in his other, they gently sway and swirl around the room to the crooning music that quickly becomes an afterthought. 

“You didn’t wait for me,” Jean mutters, still a bit hurt that she’d not even bothered to make sure he’d been able to keep up. Y/N just smiles almost coyly and shrugs. 

“I knew that you’d follow me,” she replies with ease, allowing Jean to spin her to the beat of the song the musicians were playing. 

Jean’s eyebrows furrow at her words. “You knew I would?”

Y/N nods, a pleased look on her face as they move around the dance floor as one. “Mhmm; you never left me alone longer than an hour unless we were sleeping when we were cadets you know, and nothing changed once we were full fledged soldiers.” Jean’s cheeks heat up in a blush, slight embarrassment filling him once it hits him that she’d noticed all these years. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, looking down at their feet and only making his cheeks burn hotter when he accidentally looks down the front of her dress instead of at his shoes like he’d honestly intended. 

“Don’t apologize, I thought it was cute!” Y/N says soothingly, and he looks up at her just as their dance finishes. They bow to one another, and Y/N sends him a gentle smile. “I have to go — more people to speak with,” she explains, backing away. She pauses before she disappears into the crowd, though, and looks back at him with a gentle look on her face. “Wait for me?” she asks through a genuine smile, and he nods. 

“Always,” he whispers as she hurries away, taking her place beside the leader of Marley and joining their conversation as easily as a duck swam in water. 

After a few more hours ( and well into the night ) she finally makes her way back to him again and, leaning so close it made his heart race, whispers in his ear, “Let’s get out of here — there’re too many people in here for either of us to really be comfortable.”

Placing his and her empty glasses on a nearby table, he allows her to take his hand in hers and lead him out of the room, rushing down the stairs and out the doors behind her, helping her over puddles in the streets so she didn’t ruin her dress, wandering around outside and finding citizens of Marley, Eldian and otherwise, celebrating loudly. 

It appeared the news of the peace treaty had reached them as well. 

They made their way through the celebrating throngs and finally they stopped in front of an old coffee shop that ran all day and all night. Choksing it to take shelter in for the time being, they  go in quickly and order two coffees with a breathless smile before rushing off to sit at the windows. Fireworks crackle, pop, and light up the sky through the window and they both watch in rapt attention — Y/N the fireworks through the window, and Jean the colors of the bursting fireworks in her eyes. A warmth fills his heart as it usually did when he gazed at her, and the only thing that shook him from his stare was a waitress placing their coffees down. 

After a while the celebration continues on and Y/N and Jean just decide to bite the bullet, paying for their coffee and rushing out the door and home, each of them talking avidly about how much they liked the coffeeshop. It was fashioned on the inside after the ones in Trost, after all, and run by an older Paradisian woman that Y/N mentioned was married to Pixis before he’d died; her name was Dolores, and she laughed as she remembered how gleefully Pixis had laughed about it with her when Y/N had made the joke that he’d ‘connected the Dots’. They both start laughing, and still are by the time they’ve reached the house they’d bought after leaving the apartments. They dance around gleefully for a bit, drunk on life itself, before they both finally call it a night. 

“Goodnight!” Y/N calls softly, kissing his cheek gently before disappearing into her room while humming, and Jean sighs and staggers into his room, drunk on the feelings that had bubbled up all night and the way she’d kissed his cheek. He closes his own door before wobbling over to his bed and collapsing on it with a light laugh. 

“Goodnight…” he whispers, closing his eyes and falling into a much deserved sleep. 

That night, despite the fun he’d had, Jean’s head is filled with the worst kinds of nightmares. 

It wasn’t as if it was anything new, of course; nightmares are a nightly occurrence for Jean, and he’d learned to live with them over the past few years. 

 He dreams of Sasha often. 

His mind frequently reminds him as he sleeps of the face she’d made after she was shot, and the way she’d looked at him once she realized what had happened. How a mixture of shock and fear and also… of apology had flashed through her eyes all at once, and all within a few seconds. He’s plagued with the sounds she’d made as blood bubbled up in her throat, of the way she’d attempted to gurgle out some string of words that none of them had ever managed to translate. 

He still wonders what she was trying to say. Who was she speaking to? What was she thinking? He knew she was scared, he’d seen the raw terror in her eyes, saw when she realized that she was going to die. 

Other times he dreams of the brief time he was a titan, of being a mindless beast with no self control— just hunger. Those dreams give him a more out of body experience, and he watches himself attack everyone he loved that was still with them. He has more fictionalized nightmares of being unable to stop himself from devouring Y/N, or the Captain, or Mikasa, or Conny ( despite the fact that Conny was turned with him ). The thoughts that come afterwards once he wakes up always include the phrase ‘what if?’. What if he’d actually attacked Mikasa? What if he’d eaten the Captain, bitten and chewed and swallowed him up? What if he’d trampled Y/N as she begged for Eren to let everything go?

He also dreams of the Rumbling. Of the sounds of thousands of giant feet stomping across the ground. Of the screams of enemy soldiers and the sounds made by the colossal titans’ feet as they stepped on and crushed them, ending the screaming. Jean dreams of the devastation that the Rumbling had caused, of all the lives that had been stolen — innocent men, women, and children, of all ages. Infants. Sometimes Jean would hear a baby’s cry echoing to him from somewhere out in the burning devastation, a cry that — no matter how fast he ran to it, trying to find the source — would always be snuffed out. 

He hated that one. He always ended up waking up sobbing inconsolably, and primarily because he knew it had happened. Children had died — little kids. small, pure, humanity’s future. Their lives had been snuffed out like a freshly lit candle, and it killed him inside. 

Then there are the nights he dreams of Eren. 

Those are some of the most difficult. he’d grown up with him, had known he had anger issues, but he’d never actually expected the other man to take things as far as he did, had never expected him to murder so many people, and a part of him — ugly and poisonous — wonders if maybe he’d not been such an obnoxious ass to him, would things have turned out different? If he was just a better friend — or a friend to him at all, really — would any of the results of that changed his mind about the genocide? Would he have listened when they begged him to stop? 

Whether Jean ever wanted to admit it out loud or not, he knew he’d loved Eren. The other man was a part of his life for so long, regardless of however much the two of them bickered back and forth. He was his family. He loved him dearly, loved him as much as he did Conny, as he did Sasha, as he did Y/N ( although in vastly different ways, and if he had the tiniest crush on him back in their cadet days that was his fucking business and he’d take it to his grave ) and Mikasa and Armin, the Captain and both Commanders Hange and Erwin, Historia and ( begrudgingly ) Reiner and Annie, and Marco—

God. Marco. 

After all these years, he couldn’t even remember what Marco looked like anymore. He had freckles, didn’t he? Jean wasn’t sure. All he could remember of him now was the mixture of scattered, burned bones and ash. He couldn’t remember any of his features anymore, or how tall he was, or what his voice sounded like, and it killed him. Yes, he’d forgiven Reiner for what had happened, but that didn’t change how much the memory of him hurt, or how the knowledge of how he’d been murdered felt like a knife to the gut whenever he thought about it. 

Back to the initial point, though. Eren. Jean had mourned alongside Y/N when Eren died, albeit silently, unlike the rest of his comrades. They’d pushed Eren’s existence to the backs of their minds, the series of events that they’d just gone through just being way too much for them to handle… so they didn’t think about him. Didn’t speak for him. They just declared him dead to Paradis and the rest of the world, and that was the end of it to everyone else, but Jean remembered how Y/N had cried when she’d finished listening to the announcement. She’d been an absolute wreck, speaking to everyone and no one all at once asking why they’d had to say that, apologizing to her dead boyfriend for not being able to stop them, and no amount of comfort had been able to console her, not even from Armin or Mikasa or the Captain. 

That was the night she’d confessed that she’d known, and they’d all withdrawn from her at once. The night she’d been reminded yet again of her dead lover, she’d lost everyone she loved most in one fell swoop. It was horrible… but time passed, everyone but Jean left, and over the three years that had passed since the two of them grew closer because of it. Jean learned things about her that he’d not known before, things that she’d only reserved for Eren’s ears, and he felt proud. 

Of course, there were a few things she refused to speak about, and her dead boyfriend was one of them. Y/N told him that he wasn’t the issue when it came to Eren, she swore it, and Jean understood and didn’t blame her. He knew that even thinking his name hurt her, much less openly talking about him. After all, the scream Y/N had let out as the Founder had fallen rang through his ears every time he closed his eyes and was transported back to their final battle. He remembered the way she’d looked, soaked in blood ( hers and that of others ) and half dead, wailing like a dying dog. 

Jean didn’t think she’d actually said his name out loud since he died, even after all these years — four whole years, she’d not said his name, not even once, after devoting nearly her whole entire life to loving him more than her own life. 

Memories and thoughts of Eren aside, by far the worst nights are when his brain won’t let him even have a second’s rest and he dreams of all of them. Sasha. The Rumbling. Eren. Y/N. 

All of these nights end with him screaming in his sleep and Y/N coming into his room and carefully waking him. She never asks him what he had dreamt about that made him act that way, and he never tells her. He doesn’t have to. He knows she has the same dreams. No, she just holds him, and she rocks him. She hums soft lullabies she’d been sung as a child in Shiganshina. She tells him of the trouble she and Mikasa and Armin and Eren had gotten into as children, as cadets, and everything after.

Most nights it was easy for her to wake him, but others weren’t, and he’d struck her before. Once he was fully awake and she’d calmed him down fully she excused herself and he went back to a fitful sleep, none the wiser because she’d acted like usual. She’d cleaned herself up and tended to the area so it only bruised minimally, but Jean still felt guilty for it the next morning regardless and cried and cried until she miraculously managed to calm him down again. 

Tonight was one of the harder nights, and Jean had nearly punched her while panicking ( she didn’t tell him this, just ushered him out of his stuffy room ). Afterwards, once she’d managed to get him breathing fine again, she’d poured them both a hefty glass of wine and they’d huddled together in the kitchen quietly. Jean had pulled out a chair and sat himself down by the table and she had leaned against the kitchen counter just over the sink in front of a window. Both had a death grip on their overfilled wine glasses, and after a long silence filled only with the sounds of their breathing, Jean speaks. 

“Tell me a secret,” he says simply, taking another drink of his wine. Y/N quirks an eyebrow up at him. 

“A secret?”

“Yeah. Something you’ve never told anyone else,” he replies, swallowing a big gulp of wine and shivering slightly. “Anything to take my mind off… that.” He spoke, of course, of the memory of Eren’s decapitated head in Mikasa’s arms and the screams Y/N had let out at the sight of it, and of the way she’d pulled it from Mikasa’s hands and cradled it close then fallen to her knees in absolute hysterics as the other woman stood over her crying. Armin had come running and had collapsed next to her, throwing his arms around her and holding her tight while sobbing himself, and Mikasa’s legs had given out beneath her and she’d succumbed to her own pain, weakly crawling over to her remaining two friends and allowing Armin to hold her as close as he was Y/N. Y/N wouldn’t let her touch her, and Jean remembered how, when this actually went down, it ushered a sudden surge of fresh tears and hiccuped sobs because Y/N was pushing her away. This time, though, Y/N had woken him before it had gotten there, so he’d not had to watch Mikasa crumble all over again. 

He refused to tell her what that night’s dream was about. 

Y/N looks out the window, seemingly thinking until a sad smile twists her lips and she takes another sip of her own wine, tears slowly welling up in her eyes and glittering like pain-filled diamonds. “Eren and I got married before he decided to destroy Marley,” she admits, not seeing how big Jean’s eyes got at her confession. How ironic was it that he was learning something about her relationship with Eren when he’d just had a nightmare involving the both of them?

“Married?! When?!” he sputters, drops of wine sliding down his chin until he uncaringly wipes them away with his shirtsleeve; he knew that it would stain, but that was the last thing on his mind at the moment. 

“Before he decided to destroy Marley,” she says, repeating herself, and Jean mentally kicks himself for such a stupid question. His attention is brought back when she continues speaking. “It was a really small thing — no one we really knew was there. An Eldian licensed to marry other Eldians was in the refugee camps, and Eren and I met with him that night we all drank together and had fun… we got married that night while the rest of you were drunk and came back before Hange and the Captain came back and found us all asleep. The man who married us was killed in the Rumbling, along with our two witnesses, so I can’t really do anything about it anyways; I suppose his name isn’t mine to claim now.”

In the back of his mind Jean notes that Y/N’s just said Eren’s name not once but twice for the first time in four years, and that she’s still avoiding saying Captain Levi’s. He’d never really noticed it before, but just as she’d never said Eren’s name she’d not said Captain Levi’s in a long time either. Levi avoiding her after she admitted to knowing Eren’s plans must have hurt her more than she’d admitted. Maybe she’d tell him about that another time.

He never gets to ask more questions, instead being prompted by Y/N to give her a secret in return.“I — I— I-“ he stutters, then shakes his head, “I only have one, and I don’t think that it’s appropriate.”

“Tell me,” she murmurs, still not looking at him. 

“Y/N—“

“C'mon, Jean, I promise it’s okay,” she murmurs, her eyes locked on something outside the window — was it a bird? 

Something in her tone of voice made him relax, and he sighed heavily before tossing back the rest of his wine and groaning. “Hmm. Okay — um…” he rubs the back of his neck, beyond nervous. After her confession about marrying Eren, was this really okay? 

He jumps when the feeling of something covering his hand reaches him, and he looks down to see that it’s Y/N’s. He looks up at her with wide eyes, but she’s still not looking at him — she’s just staring out the window with tiny tears in her eyes from talking about her dead boyfriend ( husband, Jean corrects himself, still somewhat reeling from this; was he really the only person that knew? ) and holding his hand. He takes another deep breath, then just decides to spit it out. 

“I’ve been in love with you since I met you in the 104th,” he says quickly, squeezing his eyes shut. Hetenses up when she pulls her hand back from where she was holding his and he tries not to cry, just knowing in his gut that he’s an idiot and he’s ruined everything. His mind begins to race as he desperately tries to think up ways to save face, to fix what he’d just colossally fucked up, but he can’t think of anything.

While Jean’s going through this mental turmoil, Y/N has never looked away from the window. She’s watching the bird fly back and forth, tipping its body this way and that before finally going towards the window. It flies by slowly, tilts its body up and down once ( almost in a waving motion ), then turns and flies off and away from her. Y/N lets out a shaky breath, her heart racing, and she places her wine glass on the counter in favor of using the hand to cover her heart. The tears start falling now, and she can’t stop them; she couldn’t even if she wanted to. 

“Goodbye… Eren,” she breathes through her tears, and the second his name leaves her lips the figure of the bird disappears into the sun. 

They stand together in silence for a while after that, Jean numb to the world around himself as he panics, but her laying her hand on his face brings him out of his mental ramblings, and his eyes shoot open and lock on her. She’s standing in front of him, a soft look on her face that Jean had only ever seen her wear around Eren himself. 

“I know,” she whispers, looking not quite into his eyes with the sad smile she’d worn speaking about her dead husband still on her face — only this time it’s different. 

“You… know?” he whispers, his eyes wide as he swallows hard. 

Y/N nods. “Mhmm, always have,” she admits quietly, rubbing along his cheekbone with her thumb. They stand together in silence for a long moment, the only change being Jean leaning into her touch and one of his hands coming up to gently cup the one Y/N had on his face. He closes his eyes and just basks in the moment, not knowing if he’ll ever get her touch this way again, and is promptly startled when she says his name after a long while of  the two of them standing there. “Jean…” she breathes lightly, and his eyes open to see hers shining with something he didn’t recognize. 

“Yeah?” he asks in a whisper just as quiet as how she’d breathed his name. 

“Kiss me,” Y/N replies, and his eyes widen. She, the woman he’d been in love with for over a decade, wanted him to kiss her? And after everything they’d just talked about?

“Are — Are you sure?!” he asks in a strangled voice, and she smiles softly and nods, placing both hands against his cheeks so she can cup his face. She tilts her head to the side ever so slightly and a fond looks overtakes the sadness in her eyes as she smiles up at him. 

“I’m completely sure,” she murmurs, running one thumb along one of his cheekbones like she’d done before, and with that final piece of permission. Jean slowly, gently, leans down and captures her lips with his own. 

Her lips are soft and she tastes sweet, a sweetness that came partially from the wine they’d both been drinking but that also just came from her, a taste singular to herself, and he relished it. All his life since he’d joined the military back on their home island he’d been desperate for even a scrap of the romantic attention she showed Eren, for some sliver of love that was different from the love she showed their other friends, and now he had her completely. She was, for all intents and purposes in this moment, his and his alone. 

He pulls back from her lips with a gasp, his chest heaving from the lack of oxygen, and she takes the initiative and begins peppering kisses across his revealed chest and neck. “Take us to bed,” she whispers pleadingly, and he only has to look down into her eyes for a second to make the decision they both desired. 

They stumble into his room in a mess of wandering hands and desperate kisses, Jean’s shirt long forgotten on the kitchen floor and Y/N’s shorts kicked off somewhere in the hallway. After struggling for a few minutes with the buttons of her shirt, Jean just lets out an annoyed growl and rips it down the middle, buttons popping off of the cloth and scattering everywhere as Y/N unties the string to his pajama bottoms and giggles when the buttons go flying. Once they’re both in nothing but a pair of panties and boxers they back up until the side of the bed catches at Y/N’s thighs and she falls back, taking Jean with her. He’s got her pinned to the bed, holding himself up with his elbows and with her body between them. Her legs are spread and his own rest between them, and he just stares at her for a moment before her face lights up with a radiant smile. 

“Hi,” he whispers, and she giggles breathlessly. 

“Hi!” she replies, a genuine smile on her face, and Jean grins and begins kissing her again. They gaze at one another for a minute before Jean asks her again, sounding concerned, if she was sure that she wanted to do this, and she just smiles softly and nods. “I am,” she whispers softly. “Please, Jean… I promise, I want this. I want you.”

To hide the sudden rush of euphoric tears that fill his eyes at the words he’d waited to hear her say for what felt like his entire life he drops to his knees so his head is between her thighs. She sits up on her elbows on the bed and looks down at him in curiosity as he slowly traces the hem of her panties with one long finger before slowly letting her head fall back as he covered her clothed warmth with his own mouth and licked gently at her through the fabric of her panties. His tongue caresses the fabric, his saliva seeping into the cloth and mixing with what wetness she’d left on them already as her body instinctively prepared itself for him. Her thighs tremble on either side of his head as he carefully sucks at her clit through the fabric, and she lets out a cry that has him stopping instantly and looking up at her in alarm amd in fear that he’d somehow hurt her. 

“O-Off,” she whispers shakily, pushing at the top hem of her panties. “Want ‘em off — please!”

Jean obliges easily, wanting this moment to be as perfect for her as possible, before pressing back against her slick cunt. His tongue gently parts her lower lips and draws a line up the length of her heat until he reaches her clit, and he begins drawing various shapes and writing out several different words to see what she liked best ( Jean found that she most enjoyed stars, circles, and, oddly enough, the word ‘cantaloupe’ ). Like a seasoned musician he plays her like a finely polished instrument, and her body sings underneath his touch. “Oh—by Ymir, please!” Y/N wails, her hands grabbing desperately at his hair. She tugs at it gently, pulling his face deeper into her core as his tongue toys with her dripping entrance and rolling her hips up into his face to get some sort of friction against her needy clit. She lets out a short, sudden scream and clamps her legs around his head as she cums hard in his mouth, Jean making a clear effort to take in whatever she gave him. He gives her a moment to rest, watching her breasts heave and almost hearing the way her heart races, before delving back into her, his tongue swirling expertly around her clit and dipping teasingly into her hole. Before long, though, her want for his cock supersedes the feeling of his mouth on her pussy and she wants him covering her again. 

“Fuck — up here, Jean, come back to me!” she pleads softly, and he’s back on top of her in a second. His face glistens with her juices, and she tangles her fingers in his hair before pulling his face towards hers so they can kiss again. It’s slow and sweet and gentle, and Y/N melts happily into the mattress as his lips meld against hers. 

When they break away for a moment, both of them breathless, Hean speaks to her. “What do you mean?” he asks quietly, rubbing his nose against hers affectionately, “I never left you.” She whimpers softly in a wordless request, and Jean obliges by carefully easing her panties off as her arms drift down from his hair to rest around his back then creep under the waistline of his boxers, her nails slightly scratching at the skin of his ass as she pushes them down. His hard cock slaps softly against her belly, soft and warm and the weight of it more than pleasing; the soft pink head was leaking an almost endless stream of precum that quickly made its way to pooling just above her navel. 

“I-In — fuck, please, put it in!” Y/N begs, and he kisses her again in response before taking himself into his own hand then pressing the tip of his cock against her entrance and pushing in, gritting his teeth as her slick heat envelopes his length. Both of their eyes roll back as they slot together almost perfectly, Y/N’s nails digging into his back slightly and Jean’s hands fisting in the sheets as they rest together there, basking in the feeling. After a moment, though, one of them breaks the pleasant silence that was once punctuated only by their shaky breaking. 

“Move. Please,” Y/N asks quietly, and Jean withdraws for a second, hissing as the cool air hits his wet dick, before pressing back inside slowly. He watches Y/N’s eyes widen and her pupils grow even larger than they were before as she’s filled, and a shaky smile makes its way onto her face. He smiles back at her, his smile morphing into a blissful half grin as their shared pleasure builds and he creeps closer and closer to orgasm himself — then he notices it. 

She’s crying. Crying and smiling and even laughing a little. 

“What is it? Are you okay?” Jean asks, alarmed yet again. She shakes her head and lifts her hand so she can press it against his cheek like she’d done in the kitchen. His movements slow to a stop and he starts to get off of her when he sees her shake her head, his eyes widening in a panic, but she throws her other arm around him and holds him as close to her as she possibly can.

“N-No! Don’t stop!” she cries, then sniffs a little and lets out a single, short laugh. “It’s just… This. It’s so good, it feels so perfect.”

“So… So you’re okay?” Jean asks, unconvinced, and she nods. 

“I’m more than okay,” she says quietly, and she smiles up at him. “I love you, Jean.” It takes a second, but then the words hit him, and his world stops all at once in the best way. 

She loves him. She loves him. Him, Jean Kirstein. Love. This… he’d been waiting for it since he was thirteen, and now she’d just told him the words he’d wanted to hear for so long. This was beyond better than her telling him that she wanted him, this would be a moment he never forgot — because how could he? The woman he’d been in love with for over a decade had confessed that she loves him — and just as he’d known when he was fifteen and she’d saved him from a titan during a recon mission and again when he was nineteen and leaping from a boat to rejoin her on the docks, Jean knew that nothing could ever change the way this woman made him feel. 

The two of them start up again, Jean’s hips rolling against hers and his balls slapping against her ass in a perfect rhythm that had them both letting out cries of pleasure. Endlessly the same thoughts ran through Jean’s head as he pleasured the love of his life, never changing: He loved her, and she loved him. They loved each other. 

And later that night, once everything was done and while she sleeps, he watches the way her chest rises and falls while she sleeps comfortably next to him, and he absentmindedly rubs his thumb over her upper arm and whispers, I hope you’re happy. 

A soft hum and Y/N pressing closer to his warmth is the only response he gets, and once the darkness that came with sleep overtakes him he doesn’t have a single nightmare. 

After that night, Jean moves all of his things into Y/N’s room; he’d forced her into taking the master bedroom when they’d gotten the house, and since they were together now she’d insisted he sleep with her from then on. He was more than willing to move his things, and now he got to spend every night in a peaceful rest and every morning he got to wake up to the sight of her either still sleeping or dressing quietly so she could go downstairs to make breakfast. His favorite ways to start the day were when he woke up first and got to see her sleeping for a little bit or when he woke up to the feeling of her lips peppering soft kisses across his face. The years pass this way, and he loves every minute of it

During all of this time together, the same thought that he’d had as they drifted off races through his mind as they spend time together more often than even before. They frequent the coffeeshop they’d stumbled upon after the signing, and discover that it���s a great place to pass the time and enjoy each other’s company while dozens of people mill around happily outside. They spend hours of their lives there, just talking and watching and embracing the feeling of having one another, and it’s absolutely perfect. 

They board trains to visit Annie and Reiner where they live alone together out in the middle of nowhere in a farmhouse ( the two were desperate for quiet after everything ended, and with Annie’s father having died around ten months ago she and Reiner had packed up and moved out ). Days are spent with the two blondes, reminiscing over the good times they’d had in the past or memories they’d made since then. Jean didn’t forget about what they had done to Marco, but after all this time of knowing, he’d made some headway into forgiving, so after Y/N visited them about a dozen or so times on her own he’d joined her, and he’d been more grateful to see familiar faces than he’d expected. Now they went by train to see them around once a month and had the greatest time. 

He’s annoyed when they’re invited to a hero’s banquet hosted by Marley and funded by Hizuru because it’s to be held on a night he’d promised to take her out on a date, but she just laughs and tells him that it could still count, and that maybe even the others would be there considering they were a part of the group of ‘heroes’ that had saved the world from the Devil of Paradis. They meet Reiner and Annie at the doors and the four of them stay close to one another, Y/N dancing the night away with all three of them and drinking her fill of the wine supplied by their hosts. Watching her dance so happily while completely unaware or uncaring of the world around her other than Annie laughing as they spin together makes him smile sadly, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell her that their Paradisian friends aren’t there, and he carefully carts her home once she’s tipsy enough to persuade into bed to sleep. 

During all of these little excursions, he hopes desperately in his mind that she’s happy, and thinks likewise when she’s scrawling out letter after letter to Armin and the others telling them about her week, what she’d seen or heard on the streets, new recipes she’d tried, how her work was going, and then she’d move on into asking about their own lives, wanting to know what they were getting up to or if they’d gotten married in the years that had passed. 

She never got any letters in return, but she didn’t stop writing — at least, until the mail carrier told her that all of her letters were being burned by the recipients, sometimes right on the spot as they received them.  He could tell how much it crushed her, but discovering that even their former Captain himself was letting her unopened letters hover over an active candle flame until they were nothing but ash falling from his fingers had her in tears. Jean knew why, of course; she’d told him all about her late night rendezvous with the Captain to drink tea and speak of their days, pasts, or whatever else piqued their interest of conversation that day, how they’d started around seven or eight months before the attack on Trost District after she’d quietly gone to comfort him after a member of his original team had died regardless of his snarls for her to leave and how she’d known that he cared for her in return when her own squad leader, Zacharias, had been killed and he’d purposefully sought her out and looked for her until he found her quietly crying on the roof where she’d hidden away from even Eren, who’d been searching the compound for her himself. He’d just… sat there, she’d told him, in a silence that wasn’t so awkward as it was equally mournful before he hesitantly pressed their shoulders together and let her lay her head on his right one to cry. 

“We were close,” she told him through small tears in bed that night, “I swear that we were… but some things can’t be forgiven, I suppose.” Jean didn’t have the relationship she did with the Captain and before she’d told him he’d been completely oblivious to it, but regardless his heart hurt at the blatant heartache in her voice. He’d held her after she said that, and she’d cried into the crook of his neck until she fell asleep. 

She didn’t send any more letters after that, and she didn’t write for what felt like forever after Jean would come home every day to her writing. She would sit quietly at her desk and look down at a piece of paper before eventually getting up and abandoning it, unable to find anything that brought her enough joy to write about it. 

One day he comes home, expecting to find her sitting silently at her writing desk, unmoving, only to find a trail of mud from the front door to the guest bathroom, and he goes inside to see he washing dirt from this absolutely massive ( and clearly old ) street dog who’s just panting happily as she cooes to him that he’s handsome while sitting in the tub with him and washing him off, and when he laughs and she sees he’s there she just grins at him and tells him that she’s ‘named him Gerolf, so they definitely have to keep him now’, and with life in her eyes and smile finally on her face again Jean couldn’t bear to tell her no, so he didn’t. 

The days from then on out pass with ease as he watches her dance and sing happily around the living room with the dog, the huge thing’s paws on her shoulders as she laughs and sways with him before kissing his nose. He would have joined her, but the sight of her enjoying life so fully was something he couldn’t bear to tear his eyes from, much less interrupt. 

A few months or so after they took in Gerolf, Y/N began to write their former comrades again, but now she chose instead to put the letters away in the closet in the room with her writing desk in it, clearing it all out just for the purpose of storing the letters there. She never really answered Jean when he asked why she didn’t send them, instead skirting around the questions and changing the subject. Jean never pushed, because not only was it not his place since she didn’t want to tell him but because he also knew she’d tell him in her own time should she ever desire to do so. 

Their lives for the next three years or so ran smoothly aside from a small handful of minor bumps ( dips in work, some new furniture being lost during shipping, Jean breaking Y/N’s favorite cup, the small cake they’d ordered falling when they got married in private ), and they were happy. They’d made their home in Marley and in each other and they fell asleep in one another’s arm’s with Gerolf, as old as the hulking monstrosity was, in the bed at their feet. 

Throughout the years, Y/N opened up more about her relationships with her first husband and the Captain, and Jean made sure to listen attentively as she did so. He listened closely when she described nights she’d shared with Eren, curled together in front of fireplaces and under covers, of kisses stolen in passing and quick ruts in abandoned corridors, and of confessions of love given daily that always felt like the first. She spoke of her time shared staring up at the night sky with the Captain on the roof of the Scout Corps. headquarters, of the times he let himself rear his head back and genuinely laugh with her on horseback as they raced through the open plains within the walls, of the endless stories shared between them over tea drank at midnight and the warmth between them when they leaned together on cold nights spent outside while on the run from the Military Police.

It didn’t take much for Jean to finally realize just how much the Captain shutting her out hurt her even before she’d told him this, and now after having peered at least a little into the deep extent of their private relationship his heart stung for her. She’d just lost Eren, and then she’d lost her closest friend as well as the rest of her family only a few weeks later. 

“Armin and Mikasa were more Eren’s friends than mine,” she’d admitted while cooking once. It had been sudden and had surprised him into turning around from his place chopping vegetables at another counter, but she’d just sighed and continued. “I love them dearly, really I do, but our relationship just wasn’t the same. It felt wrong to complain of my troubles to them when they had their own, so I just tried making money every way I could to support the four of us while we were more or less on the streets after the fall of Wall Maria. It wasn’t until I was drafted a year before the rest of you that I met the Captain, and you’ve heard the majority of how our relationship started.” Of course he had, she’d told him that what felt like forever ago; how she’d found Captain Levi after a member of his squad had died around seven months before Trost had fallen and she’d comforted him even though he’d yelled and screamed until his throat was raw, and then held him after he fell to his knees crying because the soldier had been a long-time comrade and he couldn’t take any more death and hold it in. She’d told him how Captain Levi had tried to weakly push her away before just melting into her hold and sobbing into her shoulder because it was just all too much, and she’d told him how they’d spent the night together on their knees on the floor mourning — and then, come morning, how she’d said nothing about what had happened even though the Captain had wept himself into exhaustion in her arms and had slept there for hours. Her knees had ached for a week, she’d remembered, but it had been worth it. All of this was said with a fond but wistful smile on her face, a look she usually had when thinking about Captain Levi. She laughed a little when speaking about the looks he’d sent her way when he’d thought she’d tell others about his sudden show of emotion, then her eyes had softened when she said that that, once he realized she wouldn’t utter a word of it, was when she’d earned his trust. 

Her eyes always grew sad when speaking of the Captain’s trust in her, and Jean always felt bad for her when he noticed she was missing the man. She’d been his right hand for what felt to Jean like their entire time in the Scouts, always seeming to know something about him that no one else did that got her an in on his life — and he supposed that she did. 

It also made sense now, why Armin and Mikasa were unable to console her after Eren’s death, Jean realized in silence, but he still didn’t understand why the Captain’s soft words and even gentler touches hadn’t worked either. She later voiced that the guilt from the knowledge of what she’d done to contribute to Eren’s assault kept her from accepting his comfort, because she felt she didn’t deserve it. She still hadn’t said his name. It had been around seven years at that point. 

Jean didn’t push it. 

After that, she didn’t speak of the Captain again for a long, long time and avoided Jean’s questions about him, but she was more than willing to answer those he had about Eren. It made Jean feel accomplished, knowing he was helping her heal from the loss of her first husband, and honestly learning more about Eren made him heal too — but it also made him realize that, despite all of the teasing and time spent with him, the majority of what he thought he knew about his character were nothing more than childish ideations of a crush he believed unrequited; when Y/N had told him over coffee ( she hadn’t drank tea since her fallout with the Captain, she’d mentioned once that the reminder hurt her heart too much and he’d never offered her tea again ) in the living room while sitting in her favorite chair that Eren had actually returned his little ‘crush’ for around two and a half years, starting sometime in the middle of when they’d been knee deep in their military training. Jean had turned bright red and tried to argue that he didn’t have a crush, but she’d just giggled into her drink and gotten comfier in her chair to the sounds of him sputtering out protests. 

The nights spent with warm drinks in front of the fire with Gerolf at their feet and the radio softly crooning behind them were his favorite, if he was honest. He’d never felt more loved or at home than he did with a cup of coffee ( he’d sworn off tea for his wife’s sake ) in one hand and one of Y/N’s clasped in the other, his toes buried under the warmth of Gerolf’s furry stomach and the sound of one of Y/N’s wild stories from her days under Captain Miche’s command reaching his ears. Every night spent this way ended with a smile on his face and warmth in his heart, and he knew that he never could have possibly been happier than he was in these moments and with the life he’d chosen the day he’d leapt from that damned boat. 

Of course, everything changed for them when Y/N got sick. 

They didn’t know what it was, and she’d brushed his worries off at first when he’d mentioned how he didn’t like the persistent cough she’d had for two or so weeks. He tried to relax, to accept that it was just a stubborn cough, but after two months of worrying when he’d come home from getting groceries one day to Gerolf barking in panic and her unconscious in a lump on the floor he’d had enough and taken her to a doctor. That’s when they found out she was sick — and it was also when they found out that Marleyan doctor’s didn’t know what the hell she had. Jean had, despite Y/N’s insistence that she was okay, taken her to every doctor feasible and had called upon doctors he couldn’t take her to, hosting them in their home as they checked Y/N over. 

They all came to the same conclusion in the end though: they had no idea what sickness she had, just that she was terribly ill and that the outlook was grim. After the thirty-ninth doctor came to them, then reached the same realization and shared his findings, Jean had stopped calling doctors to the house. Y/N tried comforting him, tried telling him that she was grateful for how much he’d tried, but nothing she said worked and he grew depressed as things got more and more difficult for her. 

The winter and summer months were always especially rough, when the cold practically seeped into her bones or the heat made her sweat the flesh wrapped around them off. The cold air made it difficult for her to breathe and made her lungs ache, and the heat did the same but even worse. They couldn’t go on long walks with Gerolf together anymore, and their visits to the coffee shop they both loved so much grew fewer and farther apart. She didn’t take the train to visit Annie and Reiner any more, and they’d written their worries to them when the second meeting was missed, but Y/N had eased them with mentions of being tight on money; it wasn’t exactly a lie, as Jean had used up the money she’d put away for travel expenses for her doctor’s appointments and other medical expenses of hers, and she couldn’t travel anyway so what use did they have for a travel fund at the moment? However, where it wasn’t exactly a lie, it wasn’t true either. They weren’t low on money in the slightest, not with all of their funding from their years in the military back on Paradis that they’d saved and the money that the Marleyan government had given them along with properties as reparations and then more money they’d earned through their jobs here, but neither Y/N nor Jean told them that and allowed them to take comfort in the belief that money was the sole reason Y/N didn’t come to see them anymore. 

Two years pass this way, with Y/N ill and the doctors with no clue as to what was wrong with her. Jean didn’t want to tell anyone about Y/N’s illness, no one but doctors, because he wouldn’t have to, not since she would get better — why worry them when Jean could handle it? He would take care of her on his own just as he had for the past nine years, it was his job. And if the handful of years that followed were spent with her still sick, what of it? Things had to get worse before they got better, Jean of all people knew that. 

Eventually he does admit that Y/N’s not feeling her best to Reiner and Annie, but he doesn’t tell them the full extent of her medical issues — but after the three and a half year mark, however, he was forced to tell them everything. They’d come to visit Jean and Y/N instead of the other way around and when Jean had run out to grab food Y/N had fainted into Reiner’s arms when trying to make coffee for everyone. When he’d caught her and seen her eyes rolled back in her head with only the bottom of her irises showing and Gerolf barking worriedly they’d panicked, and Reiner and Annie’s panic had only gotten worse when she wouldn’t wake up. Jean had returned home right as they were about to rush to the hospital, and he’d stopped them and taken Y/N from Reiner’s arms despite the protests of both blondes, carefully lowering her to the floor and cradling her close to himself, quietly murmuring requests for her to come back to him before quietly admitting that her illness was much worse than the little chest cold he’d written them about. 

They move back to the city after that, intent on helping where they can. Annie cooks for the four of them, and Reiner does some extra shifts at a bar in town. Jean works just as hard, trying so desperately to make extra money for just… more time — even if Y/N didn’t expect much more. 

In the year that had passed where she was her illest she’d written three more letters: the first telling them that things had taken a turn for the worst, the second when they’d hit that bright spot that made them think she was getting better, and finally the third when she’d realized that no, things weren’t getting better, and that it was most definitely her final run, which she’d separated into several split letters for each of their former friends. Those she’d put in the top drawer of  her bedside table, still unable to make the walk to her desk. 

It had taken her an entire week to finish them, and when Jean had asked what was in the last letters and she’d told him that it was full of her goodbyes to everyone they loved on Paradis he’d nodded understandingly then excused himself to shower, where he’d sat beneath the hot spray and just cried for what felt like only a few minutes but what was really hours, because it had finally hit him: no miracle was going to happen for them. After nearly twenty years of living in close quarters together every day,  Y/N was going to die. He was actually going to lose her. This wasn’t like when she took those few week and a half long trips alone ( at her own insistence )  to visit with Reiner and Annie in the country where they’d moved to escape everything before they’d moved back, this time she wouldn’t be coming back to him. He would really be alone. For good. 

When he’d finally gotten out, she’d not said anything to him. She could see how puffy and pink his eyes were after crying for so long, and she’d heard one mournful cry before he was able to cover his mouth properly, but she never mentioned it. 

Jean had appreciated it, even if he’d never said so. 

Life carried on regardless of the way Jean felt about Y/N’s illness. On the Days he didn’t have extra work, Jean did whatever he could around the house to keep his mind off of the impending hell he would be forced to face. He’d eye Gerolf, and the way the mutt kept constant contact with her, or spend hours cooking special meals he knew Y/N would enjoy. Other times he would stand at one of their bookshelves in the living room for hours, perusing his options but never making a decision on what to read. 

“I want you to know that it’s okay for you to move on,” Y/N says one day from her place on the couch while he stood at the bookshelf; she’d been crocheting a blanket despite the shakiness in her hands. “Once I’m gone, you know. It won’t hurt me for you to love again and remarry.” Jean, once pacing while deep in thought over his next move, freezes once the words register in his mind, and his heart burns. Despite being the one in agony daily, according to the endless doctors, still Y/N thought of him first; how was it that she managed to love so selflessly? Jean knew by this point that he was being greedy and selfish, doing all of this when the outcome had already been made clear; Y/N had taken the diagnoses with ease, almost welcoming death in a way Jean hadn’t understood. He’d been angry about it at first, before she’d explained that she’d already lived a life better than she thought she deserved, followed by admittance that she wasn’t surprised that she was dying young and rather had been expecting the universe to cut her life short; “It’s only what I deserve,” she’d said, “for the horrific atrocities I assisted Eren in creating.”

“It doesn’t matter if you’re okay with it or not,” he whispers, his chin shaking and tears filling his eyes as he looks down at his shoes. He hears her make a questioning noise from the couch, and a clink as her crochet needles clack against one another, and he continues, knowing she wasn’t offended. “They don’t compare — I couldn’t — it wouldn’t be…” The words won’t come out alongside his shaky breathing; he watches through blurry vision as the wooden floorboards between his black shoes darken with teardrops he couldn’t keep from falling. It takes him a long moment to get his breathing back in check, but he eventually manages it. 

“They wouldn’t be you,” he finally grits out, new tears joining the old on the wood flooring. His fisted hands shake, and his heart twists when he hears her sigh; it isn’t mocking, or ill-intended, but the way she’s resigned herself to her death hurts him. 

“I said the same about Eren,” she whispers after a long, near-silent pause that had been filled only by Gerolf’s snores and the crackling fire. A sound of pain leaves Jean’s throat without him meaning to, and he turns to her with tears streaming down his face. She’s placed her unfinished blanket to the side and is just… looking at him, and it breaks him. Her eyes are soft and kind, and he can see that she’s unafraid — nothing like him. 

“But I — I can’t,” he whispers, the words coming out in a breathy sob in time with fresh tears. He staggers over to her weakly before falling to his knees before her, clutching her skirts tightly in his hands and burying his face in her lap before collapsing into his grief. She wasn't even dead, and yet there he was, crumpled on the floor at her feet and sobbing into her dress like a mere child. He was a soldier, he’d fought in and helped end a war, he’d battled immeasurable monsters and demons, but he still mourned, and before she was gone — and through it all she runs her fingers through his greying hair and whispers softly that everything would be fine. 

One evening, months after he’d dissolved into tears and after a day spent with her unable to leave the bed for how weak she is and how painful it is for her to walk,  when she’s at what feels like her healthiest yet and Jean feels safe sleeping in bed with her rather than in a cot by their bed, she begins speaking to him. 

He’s not actually asleep. He's taking the time to bask in what life she had in her still, to spend as much time with her as he could even if it meant exhausting himself. The feeling of her heart beating against him and the sound of her breathing in his ears keeps him from losing himself in the fear of what was to come. 

He felt himself a coward. 

One of her hands gently combs through his hair, spotting a few greys here and there as she does so; he can’t see it, but they make her smile weakly. He'd survived long enough for grey hairs to settle in, albeit at thirty-one. she swallows hard, sudden tears popping up in her eyes and threatening to fall. “I hope you’re happy,” she whispers softly, holding his hand with the one not petting him as she lays almost uselessly in bed.

She jolts slightly in surprise, the sudden movement making her very bones ache, when he starts crying as soon as the words register in his mind, Jean lifting his head as the salty fluid treks down his cheeks and leaves slick lines in its wake. “I could have never been happier than I have been with you,” Jean whispers back, smiling lovingly down at her through the tears in his eyes that made his vision beyond blurry. She smiles, squeezes his hand, and weakly tugs him on top of her where she lay on the bed to carefully balance himself on his elbows above her. 

“Make love to me,” she whispers to him, small tears in her own eyes as she clutches at one of his shirt sleeves desperately. He’s not seen her cry since before she’d been given the initial diagnosis, so it stuns him for a moment. The unspoken ‘one last time’ echoes through both of their minds, but both refuse to say it and ignore it in favor of slowly getting undressed one Jean regains his wits — because moving too fast would hurt her, despite today being one of her best days in years, and neither of them wanted that. 

Jean rests his forehead against hers, fresh tears welling up in his eyes as he smiles softly. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever been blessed enough to see,” he breathes, and he hears her breath hitch in response. 

“I love you,” is her only reply, and that’s when he presses inside. Jean’s hips slowly rolled into hers, ever so careful to not jostle her and keep it feeling good for them both. It had been so long since they were together like this; her body was just too weak to handle it, but now they were trying — Jean could hardly believe it. 

 “O-Oh my God,” Y/N whimpers, swallowing the spit that had accumulated in her mouth as pulses of pleasure filled her body, “Oh — oh, oh, J-Jean-!”

“Shhh, I’ve got you,” Jean whispers, reaching a hand up to gently cup her chin before leaning down to kiss her softly. Her arms come up and wrap around his neck as he slowly fucks into her, her tiny gasps and his low grunts filling the room. Gone were the days of the headboard banging against the wall so hard that paintings and photographs fell off of it, but present still was the love shared between them. 

Before long both reach orgasm, moaning out declarations of love and utterances of one another’s names as they do. The rest of the night is spent silently shared between the two of them, naked and intertwined in a warm, perfect mess. 

Happily. 

She was gone by dawn the next morning.

Jean hadn’t woken when she’d passed, he’d only woken to her body in his arms. He’d not known at first, not until he’d kissed her forehead and discovered how cool her skin was; she’d been so beautiful at the time, soft and sweet and peaceful looking — but then he’d realized, and he’d screamed. The neighbors had woken to the sound of his raw, agonized yelling, and they’d broken the door down getting in before realizing what had happened once they saw how he clutched her to his chest, her arm limp against the bed as he did. 

There had been no consoling him, this they knew. They just alerted medics and the police and quietly went to mourn as well, already missing the woman that often offered parts of the meals she made to them, even going so far as to cook them both entire portions while the woman had been pregnant and her husband overworked leaving both exhausted. 

Many good memories were had of the Kirsteins; the two would miss Mr. Kirstein’s wife. 

It had taken nearly an hour for the medics to convince Jean to let them take Y/N’s body, and both before and after he was an absolute wreck. She’d been fine only a few hours ago, she’d been so warm and happy and alive — and suddenly he wakes up and she’s gone? Just like that? It’s not fair. 

For the first time in seventeen years — ten at her side as a friend, and seven as a husband — he’s without her. He’s lost. 

In an almost cruel act of irony, the owner of the coffee shop they went to every morning put it up for sale the day after her funeral. Apparently the only funds they’d been getting recently were from the Kirsteins themselves as well as about four other regulars, so slowly but surely the funding had just… run out. Before long the place was dark and quiet, and looking at it hurt him. All it helped him remember was Y/N, when all he wanted to do was forget. 

He locks himself up in their home for months, his only company being an also-mournful Gerolf, who whined whenever he was near something she favored. Most nights are spent sleeping in his chair in the living room as well; how could he possibly sleep in the place where she had died? And he couldn’t just sleep on the couch either, her blanket was laying there — she’d not finished crocheting it, so he couldn’t touch it. Instead, he just slept in his chair with his hand in Gerolf’s fur, lazily scratching at it where he knew it would please the also depressed dog. 

Just before the sixth month passes, Jean quietly creeps back into the bedroom he shared with Y/N, and promptly bursts into tears. He sits on the floor with his back to his side of the bed and his face to the doorway and sobs into his hands. He must be loud, because Gerolf is roused from the deep sleep he’d been in and the old dog brings himself into the bedroom before pressing his way between Jean’s legs then slumping against him, massive and warm and so comforting that Jean can’t help but throw his arms around him and sob into his fur, whimpering about how he misses her and wants her back. Gerolf remained silent, of course, unable to speak in anything but barks and grumbles, but his presence alone is enough to comfort Jean. 

They slept in Jean and Y/N’s bed for the first time since her death that night. 

After that, Jean begins to acclimate to life without her. Clinging to their dog like a lifeline, he rebuilds his own mental strength and gets back to everyday life. He begins cooking again, and he stops being so timid around Y/N’s usual areas of the house. He carefully folds the unfinished crocheted blanket and puts it on Y/N’s pillow, and he never allows anyone or anything to sit in her chair, but other than that? He begins to live in the house again. 

And then comes his newest problem. 

Jean doesn’t know whether or not he wants to visit Paradis or send letters to the others who’ve been burning the ones Y/N had been sending all these years, informing them of her death and burial, because regardless of whether or not he’s happy with the fact that they’d ignored her for years ( he’s not ), they still grew up with her, fought beside her, lived, ate, and slept alongside her. They should know, he thought to himself, and, leaning back in the chair at Y/N’s writing desk that had now become one of his favorite seats since her passing ( since she’d loved it so much before ), Jean eyes the closet that Y/N had kept locked since she’d become too frail to even walk to the aforementioned writing desk. Swallowing hard, he blinks away sudden, unexpected tears. More letters were in there, he knew that there were, because she’d started storing them there when she found out the others were burning hers upon receiving them. 

He began thinking back on all the times he’d seen her sealing letters, and begins doing the math, only getting angrier as he does. Once he adds up all the letters in his head that they’d burnt that Y/N had sent ( one hundred and sixty-eight of them ) that led to her just writing them and filing them away in her closet,  it was a lot easier for Jean to decide not to visit Paradis to tell them, or to even write a letter. 

Then three months pass, and Jean’s thirty-two. 

He’d never expected to make it this far when he started his life in the Scouts, but he’d made it out. Then, when he’d married Y/N, he’d thought they’d die old and happy together — but then she was gone, just like Marco and their other friends, leaving just him and Gerolf. 

And now Gerolf was gone. 

Jean and Y/N had both been expecting it, even before she was gone, especially since the old street mutt was at least fourteen when they’d found him. Regardless, the loss of his last living domestic link to his wife sends him into a spiral, and he locks himself away again. Reiner and Annie, who had tried endlessly to get him to let them in so they could comfort him, are shut out again with no means of getting him to talk to them. Why would he make the effort? The world had taken everything he loved most from him. He had no reason to make an effort anymore. 

Then, after another two months, Jean goes out and buys the coffee shop. 

They reappear in Jean’s life and ask for her a year later. 

He’d turned to greet whoever had come into the coffee shop, and once his gaze locked on their easily recognizable figures he couldn’t believe his eyes. Almost immediately as the disbelief came anger, and he forced himself to turn away with the greeting dying on his tongue. He snatches a dirty glass, almost breaking it against the side of the wide sink, and begins to wash it. He’d heard through the grapevine that they’d come to the mainland, but he’d steadfastly refused to seek them out, still angry on Y/N’s behalf. 

He can hear them all chattering brightly behind him, two of them ( which sounded like Mikasa and Armin ) asking where Y/N was so happily that it made Jean’s heart twist in an ugly way inside his chest and he barely could resist the urge to throw the glass he was rinsing at their heads wherever they stood behind him. 

No ‘hello’? No ‘sorry for ditching you and then burning your only sources of communication because we were mad and refused to let go of a grudge, do you think you can forgive us’? Alright. Fine. Two could play at that game. 

“She’s been dead a year,” Jean answers without turning around instead, a swift twinge of cruel satisfaction striking through him as a sudden quiet falls over the familiar voices behind him. He doesn’t bother looking after that either, choosing instead to continue cleaning the glass in his hand as a shaky ‘W-What?’ reaches his ears, coming from behind him in an aged rendition of Conny’s voice ( a voice that, despite his own internalized fury, he finds that he’s missed ). He doesn’t answer right away, just like last time, and finishes cleaning that glass then puts it away before reaching for another and speaking again. “She died. Two years ago almost to the day, now — four more weeks and it will have been,” he laughs bitterly. “What a morbid turn of events that would have been, had you come then, wouldn’t it?”

“H-How — Why?!” It’s Mikasa’s voice, shaky and startled and hurting, and Jean takes a wicked satisfaction in it. It was good; they deserved to hurt like he’d hurt since she’d died, deserved to feel pain after abandoning their friend for years. It was nothing short of karma. 

“Sick,” is all he replies with, and he can almost hear their heart’s plummet. Everyone present knew that Y/N’s mother died of a hereditary sickness a few years before Maria fell to the titans — hell, Armin and Mikasa themselves helped Eren comfort her as she cried over her at her mother’s funeral. Jean even knew for a fact that she’d gone into more detail about her mother’s death with the Captain, who hadn’t said a word but who Jean knew was shaking ( which he could see in the reflection of the metal shaker he was washing now ). The sickness Y/N had died from was something that commonly ran in families from the Underground where the Captain had come from, and considering Y/N only saw the sun for the first time a week after she turned six and her mother dropped dead from the illness two years later, Jean wasn’t surprised that it had startled him — and he didn’t feel sorry for him, either. 

Like with Mikasa, he considered the Captain’s current  feelings deserved. 

He throws the rag down and gingerly places Y/N’s favorite glass on a shelf of it’s own, swallowing hard and taking a deep breath before letting it out all at once. “I’m done here,” he mutters. “Follow me — or don’t. I don’t really care.”

He leaves after that, the group following single file and waiting patiently as he locks up the building early, and the sounds of their footsteps against the sidewalk have him fighting of the urge to whirl around and yell at them to just fuck off. This was all Y/N had ever wanted, to see them again, and now they were here — almost two years too late, but here nonetheless. 

The group stop outside of the house Y/N and Jean had ended up living in, having desperately needing to escape the damned reparation apartments that only held bad memories, and they wait in silence as Jean unlocks the door and goes inside. He leaves the door behind himself open, and after a moment’s hesitation Levi is the first to enter, the others following like faithful but hesitant hounds in his wake. 

It’s dark inside the house, and Jean’s thrown his overcoat onto one of the stylish but comfortable-looking black couches in the living room and is sitting in an armchair. It looks like he’s not paying them any mind, but Levi can feel the younger man’s eyes on him as he moves to sit down in a chair that looked unused, as he didn’t want to appropriate anything Jean preferred, especially in the man’s own home; he owed him that much. 

“No!” Jean snaps suddenly, making everyone jump and Levi freeze in place. Jean sighs, but doesn’t tear his eyes from his former Captain and the chair he was touching. “Not that chair. That — That was Y/N’s favorite chair.”

His explanation was enough for Levi at ‘that was Y/N’s’ to make him jolt away from it as if it were on fire; he carefully makes his way over to the couch and grunts as he sits down next to Armin, who takes his cane from him helpfully and leans it against a side table. Y/N’s chair is given a wide berth by everyone else who takes a seat or stands in the living room. 

The room is silent for a long time, no one saying a word. The tension filling the spaces between them was almost thick enough to bite without being able to break through. 

“She never stopped writing them,” Jean says suddenly, his words spoken in a low tone and volume as the people in the room listen silently, “She kept going up until the last year; couldn’t — she couldn’t make the walk to her desk…” he stumbles over his own words when he remembers the last day she’d tried, the day she’d fallen to the ground and hadn’t gotten back up. She’d never walked again after that, and she’d hated it. 

“I… Jean I’m so sorry. It must have been so difficult losing a friend you’d known for so long and dealing with all of this by yourself,” Armin says softly, his voice shaking. He was hurting too — all these years he’d wasted being angry, and for what? A woman loyal to her lover? A close friend loyal to another close friend? He was a fool. 

The previous silence overtakes the room once again, but this time it’s different, an unexplainable anger filling Jean’s body at the mention of the word ‘friend’ then disappearing just as suddenly only to be replaced with something that couldn’t be explained as anything short of exhaustion for life.“Wife,” he corrects quietly, making them all freeze and go silent again, “I married her seven years ago.”

No one seems to know what to say. 

Getting up, he disappears into the bedroom and quietly walks over to said desk, gingerly taking the key hanging from the crooked nail he’d messed up accidentally that she’d begged to keep just because she wanted to remember his wild cursing before going to unlock the closet holding the letters. Picking up the case she’d asked him to put them in a month before she’d passed, he lugs them into the living room before dropping them on the table with a loud thud. 

“Take the box and get out,” he mutters venomously, leaving no room for argument as he retreats to his and Y/N’s bedroom and locks the door; his own letters had been placed on Y/N’s writing desk, left untouched all these months — but maybe it was time for him to read them. 

As he unties the brown twine holding them together, he hears everyone in the living room leave, the door shutting ominously behind them as they do, and Jean’s surprised at first that it doesn’t hurt as much as he’d expected it to — then again, he’s pretty much dead already without Y/N, so what did it matter?

Shaking as he holds the first letter Y/N had written to him tightly enough to strain the paper but not crinkle it, he begins to read, but he only makes it to the third before he finally breaks. 

“‘Think of me fondly’,” he reads aloud, laughing breathlessly in a way that slowly and painfully turns into heavy sobbing. “How couldn’t I?” he asks pleadingly to the letter, almost as if he thought it would be able to answer him. It, of course, didn’t, and he cast it across the desk and away from himself in favor of leaning on his elbows against the top of the desk and burying his face in his hands to cry longer, his tears falling and landing on the smooth wood of the desk top, slowly but surely forming small puddles that seeped into the pores of the wood and disappeared, just like she had all those weeks ago. 

Y/N was gone. 

Gerolf was gone. 

His comrades? They’d not been a part of his life in years. 

Jean was alone. Just like he’d feared for years. He’d told Y/N that years ago, even before she got sick, and she’d still left. 

He pushes himself up and staggers away from the desk, one of her letters clutched in his fest while the other wipes furiously at his face as he wails like a child. “It’s not fair,” he whispers, his entire body wracked with sobs. “IT’S NOT FAIR!” 

He shakily collapses to the floor and falls against the bed again, just as he had a year ago — only this time, Gerolf wasn’t there to comfort him. This time, he was alone with his pain and fear, and it showed in his tears and words. All night long, he screams and cries and mourns his losses — Marco, Sasha, Eren, Y/N, and he mourns his comrades, the people who had abandoned him just as surely as they’d abandoned his wife. 

After the sun rises and shines through a window, he blearily looks outside. A sparrow sits on the windowsill, a large bird he faintly remembers seeing years ago ( but that he’s unsure of where he saw it ) at the sparrow’s side, both looking through the window at him inquisitively. He stares at them, unsure of what to say and afraid to move should he scare them off, when the larger bird takes off, circling around the house judging by the fact that it keeps flying by the window. For three loops of the larger bird’s flight, the sparrow stays on the windowsill, just staring at him, before finally pecking at it and taking off to join the larger bird. They disappear into the light of the rising sun, and suddenly Jean doesn’t feel the urge to cry anymore. Instead, he gets to his feet and pulls out a suitcase before beginning to pack his things, ready for a trip out to see Annie and Reiner. 

It was time to start over — even if that didn’t mean falling in love with someone else again. 

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

[lostinwildflowers]

You're Wheelie Great

Jean Kirstein x Reader

Summary: After running Jean over with your bike, Jean takes you back to his place to fix it up.

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Cursed fluff, terrible, and I mean AWFUL dad jokes

A/N: I am emerging from the depths of my drafts with more fluffy Jean! This is kind of cursed and I am so sorry, but I needed to put this out there XD -Birch<3

Part 1 - Head Over Wheels For You

"You really did a number on this," Jean chuckles as he flips your bike's kickstand out. The two of you were in the garage of his small home just a few miles from campus, examining the wreckage from your... accident.

"Well you didn't move out of the way when I yelled "watch out" you know!" you giggle nervously as Jean gets down on his hands and knees, inspecting the brake lines which seemed to fail. You rock back and forth on your feet once or twice before saying softer, "I am still sorry for hitting you, though."

Jean just smiles as his hands fiddle with the lines, shrugging, "Ah, I'll be alright." He smirks up at you and flirts, "Plus, now I get to help a pretty girl out. That's not too bad of a day for me."

You can feel an intense wave of heat rush over your face as butterflies swarm your belly, and you cough once to hide the way your voice was about to break.

"Do you get run over often on campus? Those noise-canceling headphones probably don't help," you try to deflect, still fighting the growing smile on your face.

Jean gives a soft chuckle as he stands up and walks over to his workbench and replies, "I only get run over by girls I'd like to take to dinner." This immediately sends another wave of heat through you, and you manage to gush out, "I suppose I could arrange that."

Jean turns to you with a wrench in his hand and his eyebrow cocked as he asks, "Oh really?" You shuffle uncomfortably on your feet before gesturing to your bike, "Think of it as payment for helping me fix my bike up."

The tall man goes back to work on your bike and states, "You know, I should be the one buying you dinner, not the other way around." You move to sit on one of the shop's creeper carts and with a smile shrug, "Oh really?"

This time, you can see pink dusting Jean's nose as you throw his words back at him. You just giggle at his reaction before asking, "How bad is the damage to The Swag-mobile?"

Jean glances at you with an incredulous look on his face as he repeats, "The Swag-mobile? You named your bike?" You scoff playfully and jest, "And you don't?"

A moment passes by before you continue, "Actually, my friends call it The Swag-mobile. I'm the only one who bikes around campus, they all usually walk."

Jean nods in understanding as he works away on the bike, time sliding by as the two of you make easy conversation. You told him about how you were a senior in one of your final semesters, just trying to make it to graduation.

He told you he was in the same boat, and that life as a sports medicine major had its ups and downs. Jean was in the middle of telling you about this one stretch he was taught for people with messed up calves, attempting to demonstrate it.

In doing so, he tips backward, knocking into your bike. It wobbles on the kickstand for a second, threatening to fall over. You hold your breath as it steadies, your eyes glancing over to Jean with a certain uneasiness.

He's already looking at you, and it's silent for a moment before the two of you burst out laughing. Jean plants his feet firmly back on the ground before grabbing a hold of one of the handlebars.

Nodding toward the bike he says, "Your bike has seen a lot today, I better not mess it up anymore," a chuckle following his last words.

You laugh before shrugging, "It's only a $200 bike, she's seen better days." A sigh falls from your lips before you stand up from the shop stool you had been perched on.

You walk over to the bike, your hand gently resting on the opposite handlebar from Jean. Your (colored) gaze meets his and you ask, "Shall we take it for a test ride?"

A low whistle slides between his lips and he raises his eyebrows in mock defense. "It's as good as it's going to get from a non-pro bike brake mechanic," he ushes, a boyish smile slowly creeping its way onto his face.

The seemingly permanent smile on your face grows even bigger as you grasp the handlebar tighter, pulling the kickstand up with your foot, "Let's take her for a ride!"

Jean lets go of your bike and watches your figure in the light of his dim garage. His boyish smile has turned into a smirk as he calls out behind you, "I think you're wheelie great at riding your bike you know."

You swivel around as a playful gasp escapes you. You can't help the giggles that follow as the bad joke reverberates in your head.

The tall man can't help but think he likes the way your nose scrunched up when you laugh, and that you may be the cutest girl he's ever seen.

You throw back your head as you giggle out, "You could say I was head over wheels for you!" The unexpected comeback makes Jean huff out a laugh, the joke playing off of his own.

Jean walks up to you as you both continue to chuckle and he pushes, "I don't think I'll get tire-d of hearing you say that." Another round of giggles escapes you, your stomach starting to ache from all of the laughter.

"I've cycled through all of my jokes", you managed, sending Jean into another fit of laughter, your grip loosening on the bike handles.

The two of you continue to laugh and chuckle for another few moments before you attempt at catching your breath. You didn't notice how close you had gotten to Jean until your eyes glanced up to take note of him.

You could see a dusting of freckles littering his nose, his gaze soft as a smile settled on his lips. You could almost feel his breath on your cheeks as your lungs tried to recover their lost oxygen, your heart skipping as you unconsciously leaned into him.

Jean was no different, his eyes flitting between your (colored) gaze and your slightly parted lips. He, too, unconsciously was leaning into you, his hand settling on the frame of your bike.

His body suddenly stilled and he cleared his throat to break the tension that suddenly built between you two. You blink as you realize the moment is over and embarrassment starts to flood over you.

"I- I'm sorry, I think I may have read this wrong-" you start, but Jean cuts you off, "No, I'm sorry. I-, I just have this thing where I usually take a girl out to dinner before our first kiss."

The meaning behind the words is not lost to you as you stare up at him, eyes wide. The heat of unsettled embarrassment shifts to butterflies as you try to counter, "Is this your way of asking me out?"

Jean tilts his head back and forth in a mock and playful manner as he replies, "Well I did say I should buy you dinner... so if you're interested?"

His words trail off with uncertainty that he was reading the atmosphere wrong, but when an appreciative smile slides across your face, Jean feels weightless.

You solidify the answer to his question with a quip of, "You also have to buy me ice cream if I get on this bike and the brakes don't work." Jean smirks back at you and drawls, "Well I better warn you now, it's a rocky road from here to the end of my driveway."

A rush of giggles falls from your lips as you take in his joke and swing your leg over the frame of your bike. Jean backs up, a smile landing on his lips as he hears you say, "We better not be out too choco-late, or all of the shops will be closed."

At that, you push off on the bike pedal and ride down the bumpy pavement that is Jean's driveway. As he watches you, he can't help but think he's in for a wheelie great time with you.

[lunaekalenda]

Hii! This is for the new little event, can you do Jean from aot ? My pronouns are she/they, I like darker colors, and ideal date is a shopping date, or literally just like going out, but preferably shopping and getting spoiled 🎀. I’m lwk thinking like old money aesthetic iykwim 😽 Love u

hii!! thanks for requesting!! and sorry it took me so long, i'm planning something important irl so it takes almost all my time :'). i hope you like it!!

jean kirstein and shopping date

There's nothing Jean loves more than spoiling you. Taking you to stores, make you try on every single thing that catches your attention (or his). Clothes, jewelry, shoes, anything. He's more than happy to buy it for you, although all the material things are nothing compared to what he makes you feel. He's still sitting in front of you, on the private area of some luxury store, a champagne glass on his hands while his eyes follow the way your body turns for him. He chose that shirt, after all. He hums softly in approbation, speaking to you next, asking if you like it, if it feels comfortable to wear and if the size is correct. He always asks, always cares about you and how you're feeling, and he always solves any situation that can make you a bit uncomfortable. He asks the dependent to put all the clothes he bought you on a box, and he leaves the fitting room to let you change while he pays.

Once you're ready, after you gave the shirt you're buying to the closest shop assistant, Jean smiles widely while putting the card against the contactless spot without even checking the ticket twice. He puts the card again on his wallet while getting the bags, thanking the woman and taking your hand to exit, towards the next store.

A couple hours later, Jean's hands are full of bags as you walk towards the car, too tired even to help him leave everything on the trunk and wait for him to open the door for you. Your feet ask for some rest when you sit, taking the heels away. He lets a sweet laugh escape.

"Why didn't you get shoes?" he asks. You shake your head. You have too many shoes. Buying another pair just because the ones you're using hurt is being selfish.

Once you arrive home, Jean leaves all the bags on your wardrobe but one, a tiny bag, that he leaves on your shared bed. He sits near the bag, unbuttoning his shirt, while gesturing towards you. He wants you to open the bag.

Inside, a tiny box waits for you, with a letter on top. The words written on it are so sweet, incredibly tender.

"If the rings are made, is for you to wear them. Honor me and wear this one."

[levi-supreme]

For your 600 follower event, can I get English breakfast tea and a scone? I’m a huge fan of Lord of the Rings and I talk through the movies a lot, quoting and critiquing them.

Characters: Jean x fem!reader

Prompts: Jean [English breakfast] and movie date [scone]

A/N: Hello there, and thank you so much for the support!!!! I'm sorry this took so long, and I hope you'll enjoy this sweet movie date with Jean!!! 💛 I am not very familiar with LOTR, so a big BIG shout out to @m-jelly for the help on this!!! Thank you so much Jelly! <3

I also apologise for the amount of dialogues in there oops! Having a lovers' squabble with Jean was actually pretty fun to write. Also, I had to rely on youtube videos for a crash course on LOTR so I hope I managed to nail something, and I hope you'll like it too!

Rei’s 600 Follower Event: Date-A-Boyfriend (Closed)

Once a month, you and your boyfriend Jean would organise a movie marathon, and this month, is was your turn to host and choose a movie. You chose to watch The Lord of the Rings as it was your absolute favourite, and you would never miss a chance to watch the movies over and over again.

You two prepared loads of snacks as you knew how long the movies were. There were salted and caramel popcorn, nachos and cheese, pretzels, crackers and dips, veggie chips, cookies, biscuits, chocolate, and also soft drinks as well.

"Remind me how long the marathon would last again?" Jean questioned as you sat on the couch, holding a large bowl of freshly popped caramel popcorn.

"It's 11 hours and 26 minutes, Jean," you giggled, feeding him some hot popcorn. Jean raised his eyebrow.

"Really? I swear the internet told me it was shorter."

You rolled your eyes and laughed, eating some popcorn, "of course it's longer, honey. We have to go with the extended version. It's the only acceptable answer." Jean took the blanket and covered it over both your legs.

"I better not catch you dozing off halfway, then." Jean playfully pinched your cheek. "You always doze off when we get to The Two Towers."

"Nah-uh, not today, sweetie," you laughed and ate some more popcorn, "I'm gonna stay awake." Jean merely smirked and muttered 'that's what you said the last time' under his breath.

"I heard that," you scowled, playfully poking Jean on his ticklish spots making him howl with laughter, "I'll stay awake this time. I promise." Once Jean stopped laughing and you both were comfortable, you took the remote control and started the movie.

»»————-　　————-««

"You actually did stay up all the way, huh?" Jean stretched and yawned loudly when the credits started rolling. Looking at the clock in the living room, it was already close to 7am. Maybe you two could even go to the café nearby for breakfast. You finished your cup of lemonade and turned to face your boyfriend.

"I told you I was going to stay awake." You looked at Jean smugly, stretching your neck and your arms. The both of you continued watching the ending credits roll by silently. You've always had a lingering question in your head every time you watched The Lord of the Rings, and this time, you needed to get this question out of your mind.

"Jean." You broke the silence after the credits finished rolling.

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

Jean sensed your tone of voice a little different than usual. He eyed you nervously and gulped before nodding, "... yeah?"

"What would you do... if you were in Aragorn's shoes?" You turned to Jean as he looked at you silently. "What would you have done if it were you?"

Jean was tongue-tied. He looked as though he had something to say, yet he just opened and closed his mouth like a gaping goldfish.

"I would've done the same, you know," you turned towards the TV again, "I would've done what Arwen did. I'd give up immortality for a life with the person I love most."

"And I would stop you from doing so, exactly like what Aragorn did."

"But why?" You questioned Jean again, and he remained silent. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I would want you to be happy." Jean stared hard at you. "I—j-just, well. Just imagine. You would've outlived me, for sure. What will happen to you once I'm gone? You're going to be all alone, and you're going to be miserable. You're going to die of a broken heart like Arwen, and I wouldn't want that to happen to you. I don't want you to suffer."

"I beg to differ," you took Jean's hand and held it, "I don't care about all that. Yeah, sure, I will be alone, but at least I was happy. I may be heartbroken without you, but I wouldn't have any regrets. I'd rather live a short but fulfilling life and die of a broken heart than to live a long life filled with regrets."

Jean gripped your hand tighter, staring hard at you again. "Sweetie. Listen to me. That's silly, and very risky, okay? Arwen chose to give up her immortality and look at what happened? If the ring wasn't destroyed, she would have died. All her choices and decisions would have gone to waste."

"But look at them! Arwen saw her future with Aragorn, and they even had a family together. She decided to take a gamble for her happiness and for the man she loved. If that isn't the purest and most beautiful form of love, I don't know what else is.

"Sometimes you just have to take a gamble, honey," you loosened your grip and gently cupped Jean's cheek, "I'll put my faith in the people I trust, and I believe in them too. I'll do anything in my power to be with you.

"Remember what Arwen said to Aragorn in Rivendell? She said 'I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone', and that is exactly what I want to tell you too. It doesn't matter that I'll be alone. What matters is that I get be with you, and that's already more than enough."

Jean looked at you again and sighed, laughing and shaking his head in defeat, "fine, sweetie, you win, okay? I'm yours until the end of eternity."

Smiling, you gently pat Jean's cheek, giving him a kiss. "And so am I. I'm yours until the end of eternity too."

As you stretched your limbs on the couch, Jean looked at you again and suddenly, he pulled you into his embrace and hugged you tightly. Your arms snaked up his back and hugged him in return, and the both of you remained in each other's embrace.

"I know your question was hypothetical, but don't ask me things like this again, 'kay? It's scary." Jean muttered out of a sudden, causing you to break out a laughter.

"You're ruining the moment, Jean, shhh," you giggled, nuzzling your head in the crook of his neck, "just keep quiet and hug me." The both of you continued hugging each other on the couch, until Jean's stomach rumbled loudly, making you burst out laughing again.

"Well I'm sorry to ruin the moment again, but I'm starving, and I want food. Proper food." Your giant boyfriend grumbled and shook himself free from the hug. "Let's wash up and get breakfast." Jean complained again and pushed himself off the couch, dragging you to the bathroom while you had a wide smile on your face.

Aaaaaaaaaaand that's it for the movie date with Jeanbo!! Thank you so much for sending me such a lovely request, and I hope you liked it!!

Tagging: @ack3rlady  @jean-prettyboy-kirschtein  @hannie2kay @thesimpsstuff @lilshades  @jayteacups  @nelapanela94  @postwarlevi @levisbrat25 @galactict3a @ladycheesington

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Rei’s 600 Follower Event: Date-A-Boyfriend (Closed)

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[glystenangel]

your jjk 7 mins in heaven was amazing!!! if you ever have time could you please do an aot one that includes Jean Reiner Erwin and Levi?? Thank you so much!!!

7 minutes in heaven with the AOT boys

jean kirstein, reiner braun, erwin smith, levi ackerman, & bonus!eren jaegar x fem!reader

tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, a bit spicier than the other one i wrote for the jjk boys lol, smoochin, inferred hookups, everyone's in college woohoo, mention of alcohol, confessions of crushes

summary: you play 7 minutes in heaven at a college party and end up in the closet with your aot crush, shenanigans ensue

thank you for requesting and enjoy!<333

Jean------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Shut up, you idiots!”

Jean is irritably yelling past the wood grain of the closet door just as it shuts.

You can hear his friends cracking up, and you can’t help but be concerned by that.

“Everything okay?”

The darkness only gives you a vague impression of his face, but enough for you to tell that he’s raking a hand through the tawny hair close to his neck. His slim jaw is briefly illuminated by a crack in the door, and the distant twinkle of party string lights cascade over his stubble. 

You always found him cute, so it’s a bit endearing watching him flounder for a moment.

“Yeah, sorry. My friends are just being assholes. They probably think this is hilarious.” He finally says.

You grimace at the unexpected answer, “Oh.”

Jean immediately picks up on your tone, hazel eyes flashing with epiphany, “It’s not because of you! Well, kind of.”

He seems to think for a moment, and you uncomfortably wonder if you should just tell him to be quiet for the rest of the time.

“I’ve had the dumbest crush on you since we had that class together a couple years back. The guys are just giving me a hard time about it, so please don’t think they’re talkin’ shit or anything.”

He stuffs his hands into his pockets, quickly averting his gaze from you and onto the floor while you absorb the confession.

You can feel the corners of your mouth automatically spread into a smile from his words, “I have a crush on you too.”

Jean blinks, “Really?”

You step forward, closing the already narrow space between you both.

“Really.”

A wave of confidence hits you as you place your hands on his chest and sense his faltered breathing from your proximity. His eyes are trained on your lips, and you can see his own parting in anticipation.

“Let’s give your friends something to really talk about.” You whisper, tilting your head and staring up at him with a dare in your eyes.

Jean places his hands on your waist before trailing his hands all the way up your figure and then back down to your hips. His gaze follows the journey up and down your body, the motions instantly bringing shivers to your skin. The former confidence you held is immediately replaced with your heartbeat in your ears, which only intensifies when he pulls you in for a kiss.

Kissing Jean is electric, and he meets your every touch with a desire so palpable it makes your cheeks flush with warmth. He mumbles sweet nothings about how pretty and nice you are, effectively melting any doubts you had about him earlier.

As your kisses deepen, you are suddenly jolted apart by a timer going off and Jean’s friends goading you two to come out.

“Time’s up, lover boy! Get out here, you dog!”

Jean groans, “Ignore them, please.”

You offer him a good natured laugh, “It’s okay, good to know I have their approval already.”

He looks at you with a fond shine in his gaze, “This is bad. I really like you now.” 

You observe him as he starts fixing your mussed hair, trying to memorize the lines on his hands and the veins criss-crossing over his knuckles, “You know what would be really bad?”

“What?” 

You bite the swell of your bottom lip, “If we went home together, right now.”

“Fuck.” Jean grins, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers together as knocks flood the door, “That’d be the worst.”

“Right?”

You roll your eyes, but the beam remains on your face.

“Come on,” He kisses the back of your hand and twists open the doorknob, “Let’s go.”

Reiner-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, who dragged you here?”

Reiner crosses his arms with a grin, regarding you as you adjust to the darkness.

“Mikasa.” You sarcastically sigh, “You?”

“Bertholdt.”

“I’m surprised, he seems so shy.” You purse your lips and tap them in thought.

The stocky blond across from you shakes his head, “That’s why he brought me. I’m his emotional support buddy, but honestly parties aren’t really my thing. I always feel kinda lame when I go.”

The arch of your eyebrows hitch up your forehead, “What? I thought you were Mr. Popular. Everyone thinks you’re cool.”

Reiner was the captain of your college football team and a part-time tutor, he was basically a campus legend. He always had an attractive intensity about him, with thickset arms and steely expressions, but a kindness that everyone applauded. In short, you only ever heard good things about him.

“Me? Shit, that’s what everyone says about you!” Reiner exclaims, pointing at you with an incredulous scoff.

You shrug, a shy beam brightening your features, “Guess we’re just two cool people looking at each other.”

“I guess so.” Reiner repeats, mimicking your shrug as well.

A quiet moment passes and you keep your eyes on each other, the ambient noise of music and chatter seeping into the closet.

You catch the tail end of one of your favorite songs before Reiner starts talking again.

“You know I actually…I wouldn’t mind coming to more parties if it meant you would be there.”

The unprompted confession has your eyes widening, “What? No way.”

“Seriously.” Reiner fiddles with his belt loops, “Um, I’ve always thought you were pretty and easy to talk to the few times we’ve run into each other. So.”

At the compliment, you tilt your head and squint, “Are you trying to flirt with me?”

“Maybe, is it working?” He questions, nerves tinging his smile.

A pensive hum leaves you, and then you return his smile, “It’s working.”

“Yeah?” Reiner seems relieved, and the visibility of it across his face is so endearing your heart squeezes.

You intake a breath, clasping your hands behind your back to steady yourself, “Call me pretty a few more times and I’ll let you know.” 

Reiner considers your words carefully, and then he’s following your instructions to the letter.

“You’re pretty.” Reiner steps closer, voice low and enticing, “So pretty that I can barely think.”

He skirts his palm past your cheek, down your neck, and then along your curves to reach back and grab you by the waist, inducing heat down your figure.

“All I can think about is how much I want to kiss you.” He pulls you closer, and you automatically wrap your arms around his broad shoulders.

Reiner searches your visage with wary hazel eyes, and you hug behind his neck a little more tightly, “So kiss me.”

The press of his lips on yours is tender at first, but as you comb your hands through his short, pale blond locks, the kiss grows more hungry. You open your mouth with a subdued whine, and Reiner holds you more securely as you swipe your tongue against his own. His lips are softer than you thought they would be, and you want to kiss them until you’re dizzy,

Reiner starts trailing kisses underneath your jawline, and it has your knees weaken underneath you.

“What are you thinking about now?” You pant, bending your chin down in a desperate attempt to watch him bite a spot at the base of your neck.

“Taking your pretty ass home.” He mumbles, sweeping his eyes back up to your own and giving the fresh hickey a pointed lick.

You giggle and stroke a hand against his cheek, “Bertholdt probably won’t be happy you’re leaving him alone. I’ll apologize to him tomorrow.” 

Reiner chuckles and plants a kiss on the corner of your mouth, “And I’ll apologize to Mikasa.”

Just when you’re about to envelop yourself in each other’s embrace again, grating knocks coupled with the ringing of a timer force you both to pause.

As the noise dies down, Reiner pinches your cheek and offers you his hand with a stifled laugh, “That’s our cue. Let’s get the out of here.”

Erwin-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Looks like we’re alone now.” 

Your head instantly snaps towards the tall, blond man in front of you, and he smiles down at you.

His smile is perfectly warm, but his pale blue eyes have a cold intensity that has you shyly looking away.

Erwin’s mere presence in a room was enough to make you nervous, so being in such an enclosed space with him was making your mind run in uneasy circles. You were more used to him collecting papers or leading study sessions, further away from you or at least separated by his teacher’s assistant desk.

“Yeah, looks like it.” You parrot, unsure of what to say.

You feel stupid.

Luckily, Erwin finds your obvious anxiety amusing.

“Hey,” He chuckles, “It’s alright. I don’t bite unless you want me to.”

The insinuation immediately causes your face to burn, and you lightly push his chest in embarrassment as the image clouds your mind.

“Don’t make fun of me!” You warn, staring up at him defiantly and hoping you’re hiding the shakiness in your voice.

“Why not?” He leans forward, the smile never leaving that smug face of his, “It’s fun.”

“Because-” You search your thoughts, and then blurt out, “You shouldn’t tease people who like you!”

The air stills, and you wish you hadn’t said something so childish.

Erwin interrupts that thought, “What should I do then?”

When you don’t answer, too stupefied to even stammer out a reply, he reaches out and wraps an arm around your waist.

You can feel the large diameter of his palm cradling your lower back, subtle shivers erupting from the touch. Then, he cups your cheek with his other hand.

“Should I kiss them then? Should I kiss you?” He uses his thumb to stroke circles into your back, and you can only stare at his mouth as it inches closer.

“Erwin-” Your hands flatten against his chest, and your heart is beating so much you’re afraid it will burst.

“Answer me.” His nose touches yours, and he pauses to sweep his line of sight back up to your eyes.

You breathe in slowly, sensing his own soft breaths skating over your cupid’s bow.

“If you like me too, then yes…please.” The words leave your mouth in a small whisper, and you can see the smile reach Erwin’s eyes this time before he brings your lips together.

His hands are strong and sure as they explore your body, and you squeeze your eyes shut as the kiss deepens.

It feels incredible, and you let out a soft moan when he actually bites the flesh of your bottom lip before soothing the sting of it with his tongue.

He hums into your mouth, and you can sense the heat along your cheeks as you more eagerly return his efforts.

However, the kiss induced daze that settles over your mind isn’t thick enough to drown out the jiggle of the door knob or the aggressive dinging of the timer.”

“Fuck.” Erwin mumbles, and you whine when he pulls away.

“Aw, I’m sorry.” He pecks a few quick kisses to your lips, “But we have to go now.”

You look up at him pleadingly, “Where are we going?”

Erwin visually melts at your newfound neediness, “You are too cute.”

The compliment has your heart soaring, and you smile at him as he takes his keys out of his pocket.

“We can go to my place.” He plants a kiss on your forehead and keeps a hand around your waist, “I’ll drive.”

Levi-------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Out of all the people here, it’s good I ended up with you. Now I can relax.” 

Levi sits on the floor, and you join him with a reluctant huff.

“Don’t sound so excited.”

“Apologies, I’ll try not to shout.” He sends a wry smirk your way, patting dust off of his pants as he settles himself.

“I appreciate that, thank you.”

Levi snickers at your sarcasm, “You’re an idiot.”

Silence settles over the two of you, and something about it makes you want to do some courageous and stupid act to fill the time.

You look over at Levi, a fellow grad student with a grumpy disposition and an infamously intelligent mind. For someone with such a cold air, he was surprisingly warm the more you got to know him, and the pretty, sharp features of his face failed to help keep up the initial intimidation you regarded him with. Even now, you can almost feel the long hidden affection you have for him spilling out in the way you trace over the point of his nose and the perceptive gleam of his eyes. His side profile stands out even in the drab colors of the closet’s interior. It’s actually remarkable.

“Hey Levi?” The soft call has him glaring at you.

“What is it?”

A deep breath, and then the words rush out.

“You know I like you right?”

He stiffens, shoulders hiking up slightly and remaining trained towards the door, “I didn’t.”

“Oh, well now you know.” You nest your hands in your lap and look around at the dusty contents of the closet, waiting for the man next to you to come up with a more detailed response.

More silence ensues, and just when you think nothing more will come from your sudden confession, Levi clears his throat.

“I like you too.”

The reciprocation has you in an instant, and you whip your head back to him, “You do?!”

The shocked yell has Levi irritably covering your mouth, “Be quiet!” 

You lightly push his hand away, but drop your voice to a hushed murmur, “I can’t! I never thought that this would happen.”

Levi seems offended by the sentiment, “You’re wonderful, of course I would like you. It would be hard not to, you’re…undeniably beautiful and sweet. I enjoy our time together a lot.”

The casual manner in which he compliments you has a grin spreading across your face, “I think you’re wonderful too, Levi. And very handsome! Especially when you concentrate really hard on something. Oh, and you’re really nice even when you don’t want to be. I like how you explain things too.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” He scowls, but you can tell from his tone it’s because he is getting embarrassed.

The smile never leaves your face, “Can I get a kiss then?”

“Now?” He raises a thin brow, a look of disgust displaying on his pale features.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to. I won’t be mad.” You promise, the reassurance nonchalant and genuine.

Levi rolls his eyes, but holds out a sturdy hand towards you, “...Come here.”

He delicately rests your chin on his loose fist, and then leans in close. He has longer eyelashes than you realized, and the silvery gray of his eyes are framed perfectly by them. When he’s only millimeters away, he closes his eyes and you immediately flutter your own shut. It’s just in time to feel his lips on yours, and your chest swells at the sensation. He tastes minty and fresh, just as you expected, but he’s more passionate than you anticipated. Levi cradles your chin with the utmost care, and the attentive tilts of his head sync to your every wish.

Once you have to catch your breath, Levi keeps his hand on your face, observing your wavering pants with calm interest, “There. Are you happy now?”

“I am.” You happily sigh, sure that you’re staring at him with visibly starstruck eyes as you wrap your hands around his strong wrist, “Can I have one more please?”

Levi scoffs, but tenderly combs his fingers through your hair, “So stupid. How’d you get so dumb?”

“Hey! I’m not-”

He kisses you again, more and more persuasively until you no longer have any will to protest. His lips are gentle and languid in their addictive movement against yours, and you realize how much he savors each kiss with you.

“You are.” He softly taps the end of your nose, “You’re dumb. That’s why I have to take care of you.”

Before you can defend yourself once more, the timer goes off and Levi furrows his brows at the intrusion.

“Why don’t we get out of here?” He murmurs, “Let’s see how dumb you can get.”

bonus! + Eren--------------------------------------------------------------

“Shit. Fuck.”

Eren smacks his fist against the door as it closes, his back turned to you.

“You okay there?” You hesitantly tap his shoulder, where even in the obscured lighting of the closet, you can see the tapered, muscular shape of his back.

“Yeah, I just-” He spins around, nearly bumping into you, “You’re gorgeous and I’m so wasted. I have no game right now.”

Eren looks genuinely distraught, sea green eyes punctuated with remorse and his thickly defined brows knitted above the slant of his nose.

You giggle at his unfiltered anguish, “It’s okay. I’m a few shots deep and you’re very cute. You don’t need any game.”

Honestly, this has been a long time coming. Eren and you had been stealing glances at each other in class for the better part of the semester. You were elated to just have the chance to talk to him alone, even if you were actually so nervous you could feel your heart beating in your chest.

“I want to-” He looks down at you, fumbling his hands through locks of chestnut brown hair and tugging at the hems of his shirt as if he was overheating, “God, you’re gorgeous. I’m losing it.”

“Eren, stop!” You try to shush him with laughter lacing your words, but he only seems to get more riled up.

“I’m serious! I’ve seen you around, but I was too chickenshit to ask you out. Now look.” 

To his credit, he half whispers the last portion of his rant, but you can still sense his distress.

“Aw, do you just want us to not do anything then? We can just talk.” You pat his shoulder to comfort him.

Eren thinks for a moment, sheepishly covering your hand with his own, “I still want to…If that’s okay with you.”

“It’s okay with me.” You shyly admit, feeling the hum of alcohol and the smitten way Eren is staring at you intoxicate your thoughts.

“It’s okay?” He slides his hand behind the nape of your neck, and the warmth of it has you curving towards him.

Eren is careful with how he handles you, rubbing his thumb up and down the column of skin.

You bite your lip and stare down at his own, “Mhmm.”

He seems just as transfixed as you are, half lidded gaze drawn to where he soon provides you with a sweet kiss. Flutters erupt in your chest, and Eren lets out a groan when you roam your hands along his torso. He tugs you closer, moving his hands to your cheeks and kissing you as if he’s utterly starved for you on his lips and tongue.

“You’re fucking adorable.” He kisses the corner of your mouth, mumbling against the skin with gratitude, “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. Cook you a nice breakfast. Romantic.”

You cross your arms behind his neck, staring into his eyes with a lovestruck smile, “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

________________

And then they take you home so you can continue being in heaven together :)

________________

End Notes:

couldn't resist adding eren bc i love him hehe but it was so fun writing this with all the aot boys!! i haven't written for aot in a while so this was refreshing and made me nostalgic :') appreciate you liking the jjk version v much and thank you for requesting this one, i hope you like!💞💞

[your-averagewriter]

The Battle for Trost.

Summary: At the Battle for Trost, the cadets have to make a plan to get into the supply room. The elaborate plan goes slightly wrong for Jean but luckily (y/n)'s right there next to him, ready to save him.

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: blood, weapons, violence, death? titans

-

-

Smashing through the window I land inside the building alongside Jean and Marco. I look around seeing the others land inside also, the glass shattering. I take a couple of breaths to steady myself and then I walk forward seeing more cadets tucked under a desk. Crouching down in front of them, I slot my blades back into their sheaths and look at the cadets confused. They’re drenched in sweat and tears, and a few of them are decorated with blood splatters.

“What are you doing?” I ask calmly but with no response. “Aren’t you guys part of the supply team?” I ask tentatively with a few nods in return. “Then why aren’t you fucking supplying?” I ask in a monotone voice but the aggression is quite evident. The girl cowers back slightly whilst the other leans forward.

“The Titans! They’re in the basement!” He yells, scared. “We didn’t know what to do!”

“Work it out, that’s what you’re meant to do. Kill the bastards and supply. That is your job!” I say, now raising my voice. I sigh rolling my eyes and standing up, stepping away from them but Jean has a different idea. He grabs one of them by the collar, pulls him up and punches him square in the face finishing what I started.

“You abandoned us!” He yells at them.

“Not to say he doesn’t deserve it but we don’t have time,” I say as Marco holds onto Jean pulling him away. He sighs before calming down.

“Fine. But later if you survive this you better believe there will be consequences.” He spits before relenting.

Then suddenly one of the walls is smashed by a titan’s face.

“Jean get down!” I yell, pulling him down to protect the both of us from the rubble.

Two titans look through the hole in the wall and the whole room erupts in panic. Screaming, shouting and disorganised chaos. The rest of the supply team hiding in various parts of the room flee, the only thing they seem to be good at, leaving us.

“There’s too many people!” Someone exclaims and runs out following the crowds. 

I pull myself up from the floor, ripping out a shard of glass lodged in my hand with a hiss and I stare at the skinless faces that just implanted themselves in the wall.

I watch them emotionless as I see a large fist crash against their faces. My eyes go wide and I stare in shock before I’m interrupted by Connie, Mikasa and Armin flying in, crashing through the windows. Connie tries to explain the titan who just punched the other titans stating that he’s trying to help or at least isn’t an enemy at this point in time. 

I watch in awe as it destroys other titans, stamping on their napes and seemingly using martial arts moves against them, kicking them and tripping them the way we’re taught. He knows fighting moves and also knows the titans’ weaknesses. 

“Whilst it’s great he’s helping us or whatever, we don’t have any gas and our blades are fucked and there are titans in the basement! We need a plan to get the supplies.” I say interrupting them.

“She’s right,” Armin says, wiping some blood off of his head.

“I’m sure there are some weapons somewhere around here,” Jean says. “It's a military police base, there’s bound to be some sort of guns.”

“Guns don’t kill titans,” Mikasa says matter-of-factly.

“Do you have a better idea, do you wanna try to strangle a titan instead?” I ask her and she stays silent so we head downstairs to find the weapons.

Jean, Marco, me and a few others search for guns and carry out the boxes once they’re found. They’re old army shotguns with dust on the crates.

Armin devises a plan on how to distract the titans in the supply room so the best of us can cut their napes and kill the titans. He explains it a couple of times to make sure everyone understands and then everyone gets what they need. Marco gives me his blades as he’s been selected to shoot instead and my blades are blunt. Thanking him I walk over to Jean who’s testing the guns despite being on the blade side of the plan.

“Good luck,” I say, placing my hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll need it.” He says with a sigh.

“Don’t fuck it up,” I say and pause looking at his worried face. “But if you do…I’m right there next to you.” I say before walking off again to get in my place.

The plan’s set up, everyone’s in their places and I start to hear the lift start to lower. I can feel the anxiety levels rise as they’re lowered and I look to my side. I nod to Jean before turning to look at the bottom of the lift. The moving lift has got more than just my attention, it’s luckily got the attention of the titan dawdling around the room.

The cadets look terrified as they stand on the lift staring into the approaching titan’s eyes, they get closer and closer but they’re not allowed to fire. I wait for the rogue shot of a nervous cadet to sound but I don’t hear it, only the command from Marco to shoot.

“Hold.” He pauses again. “Hold!” He says louder hearing the jittery cadet in front of him. “And fire!” He shouts, the cadets unleashing round after round of bullets.

They aim for the eyes as we run across the beams and jump slicing the nape of the titans. Mine falls to the ground and hear sounds of success from the right of me but I turn to the left of me and see Jean backing away from his titan, a very much alive titan, turning around towards him. The titan walks towards him slowly and I instantly jump into action. Without even hearing a command, I propel myself towards the titan, using its face as a hook for my ODM gear and swiftly cut the nape of the titan.

“Watch out!” I yell as the titan falls, me landing next to it. 

I rush over to Jean who I see with eyes wide backed up against a support beam. The titan thuds to the ground behind me as I kneel in front of Jean.

“It’s okay.” I say calmly taking his hands in mine. “It’s dead. You’re safe.” I reassure squeezing his hands. He looks up at me and stands up before enveloping me in a hug.

“Thank you.” He says, sincerely.

“Of course, I told you I was right there next to you.” I say with a rare smile usually saved for a more private setting. 

We separate and I look around at the others, no titans seem to be living which is good and all the humans seem to be living which is also good.

“Is everyone okay?” I yell, not being able to see over some of the titan bodies.

“There were a couple of complications!” Reiner yells back.

“Is anyone hurt?” I ask.

“The only thing hurt is egos.” I hear Reiner yell and a couple of people laugh.

“Thank god.” I whisper to myself pulling myself into Jean’s side.

I see Marco’s worried face as he looks down at us. I give him a thumbs up and a small attempt at another smile and he sighs in relief that, probably, his two favourite people are still alive.

-

AN: Thanks for 500 followers!

Is everyone excited for Attack on Titan, season 4, part 3, part 1? They're really drawing this out haha.

Hope you enjoyed reading!

[mommypieck]

⌗︙・making aot boys fall apart ⸜⸜・

eren

"shit, you're so tight." he says as you bounce on his cock. he thinks you're the prettiest thing, a goddess. his head falls down against the wall and he closes his eyes. his hands place on your hips and he lifts you up and down on his cock.

"baby, i need your kiss." he says, pulling you against his chest to kiss you on the lips. he holds you in his arms as he fucks you deep.

"i can't with you." he growls, his voice cracking at the end. his thrusts slow down and he has to take few deep breaths before continuing. you notice his eyes watering at the way you work him and you lean down to kiss him again.

"it's okay, 'ren. let it all out."

armin

"slow down, love. feels so good." he whines out as you try your best to ride his cock. he loves to see you bounce up and down, milking him. his hand grabs your tit, squeezing and pinching it. he quickly turns you around so he is on the top, bringing his body close to yours.

"have i told you how good you feel around my cock?" he asks half whining. his thrusts are frantic and he's losing rhythm. your pussy has always felt so good but today he feels like in heaven. he feels like he's going to cry in any second. you can see how hard he tries not to cry and you stroke his cheek lovingly.

"it's okay, armin. just cum in me."

jean

"omg baby, you're sucking me in so tight." he moans out with wide eyes. he tries his best to keep his torso up with his hands as he fucks you but his hands shake so much. he falls on top of your before rolling on his side and lifting your leg to fuck you better. his mouth is open and his eyes shut while he fucks you fast and hard. it's as if he can't believe how good you feel around him. suddenly he lets out a high pitched whine and tears fall down his cheeks.

"it's okay, you're so good." you say and kiss his tears away. he holds you in his arms as his cock now slowly strokes your insides. you know he is unable to think properly so you start to move back on his cock, making his moan loudly.

"good boy. let's make us both cum."

reiner

"you're doing so good." you whisper into his ear as he slowly fucks you. his body is pressed into yours and you press your heels into his lower back to help him fuck you better. he's loud and he's not ashamed of his moans. you can see the tears in his eyes as he tries to blink them off.

"that's it. fuck me like this. you're such a good boy." you praise his because you know how much he loves it. he moans at your words before trying to fuck you harder. you chuckle because you know he's deep into his fucked up state. he latches his mouth on your nipple and he sucks hard. you feel his heartbeat slow at this action and a small smile appears on his face.

"that's it, love. i want you to cum inside."

[oh-meretseger]

part 6 - Revenge

attack on titan modern college au // Jean Kirstein x fem!reader

summary: you attempt to get your revenge on Jean, but teasing him only goes so far and you eventually succumb to temptation🤓 (like we all would, it’s okay)

notes: 18+! smut, explicit language, handjob, fingering, oral (both receiving), spitting and getting messy and just generally being disgusting

word count: 6,4k

"Where's the rush, smarty-pants?"

His voice came out of nowhere in the dark room, and as you sprang around, petrified, you saw his silhouette sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Jesus fucking Christ" you yelled out after the first few moments of shock, trying to calm the dangerously fast racing of your heart when you realized who it was. "Jean, are you out of your fucking mind?! You can't just creep up on me like this, I almost had a heart attack!"

The room was dark, only the dim light of the moon shining through the windows - you couldn't see his face, you could only hear Jean chuckle quietly, then stand up with a creak of the bed as his dark silhouette walked closer to you.

"I'm sorry, I would've knocked on the bathroom door if I knew you didn't like jumpscares" he replied, audibly smirking, and the nervous beating of your heart instantly became accompanied by warmth spreading in your core as you felt the heat of his body, standing close to yours, but not touching yet.

"I—I would've kicked the door down on you, poltergeist doesn't make me less terrified" you replied and smiled at the sound of Jean letting out another laugh.

"Poltergeist... You're silly"

You felt Jean's large hands find their way under your jacket and slide on your waist, sending electric tingles to your center. His one touch, the warmth of his closeness and his heavenly scent was enough to make you feel ecstatic.

And to make you instantly wet.

"I'm sorry, baby" Jean mumbled as he pulled your body to press onto his, nuzzling against your ear as he leaned close to your face. A quiet moan escaped your mouth at the euphoric feeling, and Jean could've sworn he saw stars hearing your sweet sound. "You must be so mad at me by now, always disturbing the peace of your little heart..."

"Oh, my little heart knows you're just playing with it" you replied on autopilot, your mind already turned off at the feeling of Jean's scruff on your jaw, his hot breath on your neck as he pressed a small litle peck on the sensitive skin.

One of Jean's hands slid to your back, pulling you even closer to him. The room was dark, but his mind would've darkened in broad daylight anyway from the ecstasy he felt at that moment.

"Then tell your little heart I'd never hurt her" he whispered in your ear, sending chills down your spine. "I'll take care of her"

Your heart fluttered at his words, your arms moving on their own as you wreathed them around Jean's neck, and turned your head so your lips could finally meet his. You both felt like your souls were leaving this world as your soft lips lightly pressed into each other, then started moving as your kiss deepened. It quickly became a sloppy, lustful mess, tongues passionately dancing around each other, swollen lips making wet sounds that filled the bedroom.

Jean felt himself get hard at the filthy sounds you were making. He couldn't help his cock growing in his pants as he felt your sweet scent, the touch of your plump lips, your warm tongue and your fingers running through his hair. You desperately pressed your body more into his, letting out a small little whine against his lips, and it was over for him.

"You smell so fucking good" Jean mumbled as his lips wandered to your jawline, then your ear, drawing a slightly louder moan out of you as he started kissing it. He lost the control over his hands - you felt one slip down to your ass, fingers pressing into the flesh as the other one glided along your waist and up to your chest. "You feel so fucking good"

"Please—Please, touch me" you whimpered quietly as your hands moved to his, guiding them to grab your ass on both sides. Jean moaned at the heavenly feeling of your fingers pressing into his as you showed him how you like to be groped.

Shamelessly, that was for sure.

He already knew you weren't exactly the innocent girl you tried to seem - but as you guided his hands to grab and palm your ass, then up the sides of your waist, the plush of your perfect tits, he felt a new, overwhelming wave of arousal.

"Oh— Mmfmy fucking god" Jean caught his breath between sloppy kisses. His hazy mind couldn't even believe it was happening. He had you between his arms, and louder and more desperate moans escaped your throat as his hands groped you, stroking and gripping at every sensitive inch of your body, hungry for his touch.

"You can make it all up to me, y'know" you spoke softly, trying to stay sane while Jean was feeling you up with slow, but eager motions, moaning at how amazing your body felt against his fingers. He wasn't so successful at staying clear-headed.

"Yeah?" he asked, and his low, slightly whiny voice against your lips sent an unearthly shiver down your body. All you wanted was for him to use your body as you lost yourself in pleasure - but unfortunately, you already had a different plan in mind. "Let me make it all up to you, pretty girl"

"Sit on the bed then" you replied as a devilish smile formed on your face, and Jean's movements stopped, his dick throbbing in his pants at the sudden confidence in your tone. You pushed him away from you with a firm hand on his chest. "I said, sit"

The warmth radiating from his body disappeared as he stepped back, and your hands hurried to find the keyhole on the door, hastily turning the key to lock it. The room filled with a faint, warm light as Jean clicked the bedside lamp on, and you turned around to finally face him. You instantly felt yourself blush as you gazed at his large frame standing by the bed, his face serious but flushed with pent-up passion. You felt flustered as you thought of what you were about to do with a man so incredibly hot and otherworldly.

"Sit"

Jean felt his already hard cock twitch at hearing your demand and obediently sank down on the bed, not for a moment taking his eyes off of your beautiful flushed cheeks and eagerly glistening eyes. You walked closer to him as you let your denim jacket fall off your shoulders, throwing it on the end of the bed.

You stopped right in front of him, one of his thighs between your legs, and Jean's hand automatically slid to the slit of your dress. You slapped his hand away, and he looked up at you with a confusion so adorable, you wanted to immediately kneel down and take him into your mouth.

"No touching" you murmured looking into his beautiful hazel eyes, your heart pounding with excitement as you raised your hand, your fingers gently running through his hair. Jean's eyes closed at the sensation, melting into your touch. You looked at his eyelashes as they sank, the blush on the bridge of his nose, then at his pretty lips parting as your fingers tightened, lightly tugging on his hair. He moaned. You felt your wetness soaking your panties as you realized you finally had the control. "Move a little bit"

To the push of your hand, Jean shimmied further back on the bed, sinking to lean on his elbows. He watched you kick off your shoes and swiftly pull up your little dress. The warm light of the lamp grazed the soft skin of your neck, collarbones and shoulders, and one spaghetti strap of your dress fell off your shoulder - the sight so innocently arousing, Jean felt like his balls full of cum were about to explode.

"How come you're such a good boy all of a sudden?" you smiled and your confidence grew even more as Jean's greedy eyes devoured your body while you slowly crawled up on the bed, seating yourself on his thighs, just above his knees.

Jean wanted to grab your hips and slam it onto his until you came all over his cock, but with the last crumbs of composure he had, he obeyed to your will instead. He felt himself getting more and more aroused at every little action of yours - and he didn't realize just yet, but you taking the lead made him incredibly turned on.

"I'd do anything for you to forgive my awful sins" Jean's lips slightly curved into a smug smile, looking into your eyes darkened with lust. He shifted his body so he could move one of his hands to make contact with the smooth skin of your exposed thigh, but you pushed his hand once again.

"Then don't touch me, and do what I say" you replied with a voice so soft and alluring, it made Jean gulp hard, and obey once again. He faintly bucked his hips upwards as the tight grip of his trousers became torturous.

You almost moaned out loud just by seeing his desperate movements, but you forced yourself to keep your calm. You wanted to pleasure him in the most lingering, cruelly satisfying way.

"Holy—Fuck" Jean groaned quietly as your hands gently slid up his deliciously thick thighs to the croth of his pants, painfully avoiding his most sensitive area.

"You look so good" you hummed, enjoying the color of his flushed cheeks at your praise. "You like when I touch you, right?"

"Yeah" Jean breathed out as he watched your dainty little hands run around the aching, obvious bulge in his trousers. You eyed his clothed erection, already salivating at how heavy and hard his cock seemed. "Those pretty little fingers feel so good"

"I know" you watched with a sinful smile as your hands slowly and smoothly moved up Jean's waist and around his chest as it heaved. His eyes closed as your fingers delicately ran up his neck, then down to his collarbones. You leaned forward and groped his broad shoulders, getting even more wet at feeling the flesh of his muscles. Jean's eyes opened as your scent hit his nose, and moaned at the sight of your breasts bulging, almost spilling out of the fabric of your little dress. "Let me help you get rid of this"

You started unbuttoning his shirt, taking your sweet time while Jean felt like crying out of desperation. He wanted to stay patient, but he couldn't help squirming under you. "You're getting needy, aren't you?"

"Yeah" he muttered, his breathing ragged as you slowly peeled the shirt off his torso. Your mind became fuzzy at the sight, your hands greedily gliding up his toned waist, stopping at the muscles of his chest. Your nails slightly digged into his skin and you leaned forward.

"What do you need, baby?" you asked, an airy whisper in his ear as your hand moved to his neck, only attempting to wrap around. Jean bucked his hips up again as the feeling of your hand's grip on his throat made him throb.

"I need to feel you" he spoke softly, a moan falling from his lips when your warm mouth kissed down on his neck, your lips and tongue making filthy, wet little sounds as you found his sensitive spot. "Fuck—Y/n..."

"Tell me how you wanna feel me" you purred into the crook of his neck while your hand wandered down to his stomach, fingers gently caressing the sensitive skin just above his belt.

"Touch me, please" Jean replied in a low voice and you lifted your head to look into his eyes. You simply melted at the desperate look he gave you as your fingers moved to unbuckle his belt. "I'm so hard for you"

"Just for me?" you smiled and connected your lips in a soft kiss, immediately accepting Jean's greedy tongue into your mouth. He kissed so good, you felt your clit throb at every movement of his lips, just like he felt his cock getting leaky as your tongue moved in perfect sync with his.

"Just for you" Jean moaned into your mouth, and you let out a little whimper as both of your hands worked on his belt. You unzipped the trousers after unbuckling, then broke the kiss as you leaned back, sitting up to look at what your hands were doing. Jean watched your pretty fingers gently move along the aching boner in his boxers, trying to well up from the unbearable grip of his trousers. "Holy shit—"

Your hand slipped into the trousers, less gentle this time as you grabbed his hard-on with your whole hand, your mouth falling slightly open, eyes darting to his as you felt his size. Jean literally saw stars - his eyes hazy and low-lidded as he stared into yours. He saw a new wave of warmth flushing your cheeks as he felt the warmth of your palm met his bulge through the fabric.

"Keep touching me, pretty girl" he said and you shamelessly palmed his erection through his boxers, moaning as you felt up his balls, then the length of his cock. You were already certain it wouldn't fit inside you. Jean's head fell back as a shaky whine escaped his lips.

"You're so fucking hard"

"Please—"

"Help me" your demand was soft and quiet, but enough for Jean to immediately lift his hips as your fingers hooked into the hem of his boxers. With one swift motion, you pulled his trousers and his boxers down, freeing his cock as it sprang up against his happy trail. Jean watched your pretty face blush, big doe eyes slightly widen. You were simply unable to take your eyes off of it. He was huge - the biggest you've seen, anyway. His length was one thing, but the girth made you absolutely sure that it won't fit. "Oh my god"

Your hands moved impatiently as you wrapped both of them around his cock. Jean grunted at the sight, how small your hands looked in comparison, your squishy thighs hugging his, your pretty little fingers slowly moving up and down on his hard cock, your tits pushed together by your arms, alluring eyes piercing right into his.

"You're beautiful" he muttered and bit down on his lower lip hard as your thumb pressed up his sensitive slit, squeezing out a few drops of precum. Getting confident by his praise, you leaned closer as your mouth opened, letting a string of saliva spill onto his pink tip. Jean moaned louder this time, the sight of you drooling all over his dick, smearing it around with your hand almost sending him over the edge.

"You like when I get dirty for you?" your eyes darted back to his, smile so devilish he just had to buck himself up into your fists.

"Oh yeah I do, y—Such a nasty girl" he moaned and you had to bite back your own whimpers as he slowly fucked into your hands. You could have never even imagined something so incredibly hot. "So messy for me, I—I love it. Y'milking my cock so good"

Your breathing became ragged, your hands squeezing a little harder as Jean thrusted his cock into them, squelching with precum and saliva. You whispered, "I love it messy"

You looked at his tip leaking precum onto your knuckles with such hungry eyes, Jean felt like you were going to eat him up. But you moved your hand carefully and gathered the clear slick with a finger, then looked into Jean's eyes as you licked it off. He had to try his best not to cum right then and there. When did you become such a filthy little—?

"Give me your hand" you motioned for his hand, and grabbed it as he reached out, now only leaning on one forearm. He let you wrap his fingers around his own cock, pumping it a couple of times, squeezing at the end. You quietly moaned, him letting you jerk his cock like this being so dirty and arousing, you were sure you've already soaked through his trousers as you sat on his thigh.

You grabbed his fingers to gather his precum just like you did, then raised his hand to your lips. Jean let out a groan that turned into a desperate whine as you took his fingers into your mouth one by one, sucking them clean, your warm tongue swirling around them as you looked deep into his eyes.

"Does that feel good?" you purred between fingers, Jean moaning in pleasure as you sucked his thumb. So, so filthy...

"Feels so good, pretty girl" Jean's sweet sounds were making you lose control, not even wanting to tease him anymore. You just wanted to make him cum.

You moaned in agreement as you let go of his hand, both of your hands finding their way to his hard cock, starting to gently work the swollen, sensitive tip as you played with him.

"Hnngh— You're doing so good. Y'work that cock so good" Jean moaned his words, unable to take his eyes off of your pretty lips wrapping around his fingers. "Your mouth feels amazing, angel, you're making me—"

"What?" you hummed with a smile, his middle finger still in your mouth. "You're gonna be a good boy and cum on my hands?"

Jean hesitated for a moment as he blinked up at you, his cheeks burning with arousal. Your mind went absolutely blank and feral at seeing how flustered he got hearing that name.

"If you want me to"

"Oh, I want you to" you agreed, but your hands stopped, they were completely still. Though he was so turned on by you, Jean felt like one movement of your fingers would push him over the edge. "But I honestly just planned on leaving you here, hard on the bed, just to get back at you"

The tension between you broke when Jean cackled and you softened as your saw his pretty smile. You were too soft for him to get your little revenge.

"Oh yeah? You wanted revenge for yesterday?"

"I did" you grinned and you felt Jean throb in your hands. He liked your pretty smile, too. "You were super mean to me"

"Mean?!" Jean laughed again, sitting up to lean on his palms instead of his elbows. Your faces were inches from each other, and suddenly, you became bashful, tracing your finger along a vein on his hard cock. "We just made out, I wasn't that big of a tease”

"You were" you snapped back, returning your gaze to his hazel eyes, but they were so full of some strange emotion that you started to lose your confidence again. "You absolutely were because it felt... Really good to me"

"It felt really good to me, too" Jean gently touched his nose against yours and your eyes closed at how good it felt to have his lips so close to yours. "You don't know how hard it was to leave you there after touching your beautiful body and—And kissing your sweet lips"

His lips grazed over yours, drawing a whimper out of you. He whispered, "You're a great kisser, by the way"

"Am I?" you smirked, remembering how you just thought the same of him.

"You are" he shortly replied, recalling how quickly he came all over his stomach after leaving you there in the hallway and going back to his dorm to jerk off thinking of you.

"You are, too" you mumbled, pushing his shoulder to have him leaning on his forearms again. Your torso followed his as you brushed your lips on his ear. "You can't even imagine how wet my pussy gets just by making out with you"

"Mmpf holy— fuck" Jean's eyes rolled to the back of his head, his cock twitching at the thought of your sweet pussy dripping from wetness, just for him. He was on the verge of pushing you down into the mattress and slamming his cock into you until you came all over it - but he enjoyed you having the control a little too much. "Please let me feel it"

"Letting you have what you want wouldn't be much of a revenge, now would it?" he felt you smile against the sensitive skin of his neck. Your fingers delicately ran along his aching erection again and your hips started rolling against his clothed thigh, slowly and gently, but with enough pressure to make your clit throb with pleasure.

"Fucking— shit, please, please let me make you cum" Jean's voice became almost whiny as you moaned into his ear, humping your wet little pussy on his trousers. He felt like a dog in heat as he watched your dress roll up on your hips from your movements, the lace of your black thong peeking from underneath.

“Oh— Jerking your cock feels so good, I could cum just by riding your thigh” you whimpered and that was when something finally switched in Jean’s brain. He sat up and his hands firmly grabbed your tingling hips.

“Well, you won’t”

“Jean—“

Your arms hung on to Jean’s neck as he moved both of your bodies, his strong arms picking you up and laying you on the bed like it was nothing. Your brain immediately turned off as he manhandled you, rolling your body to your side as he layed down and positioned himself right behind you. You whined when you felt his hard-on press between your asscheeks and he mumbled in your ear, “I know what’s good for you, Y/n”

He listened to your quiet whimpers as his big hands roamed your body from behind and it drove him crazy. He paid attention to every little reaction, taking his time on movements that made goosebumps appear across your soft skin. He watched your beautiful eyes close in pleasure as his thumbs brushed against your hardened nipples through the fabric of your dress.

“Open your eyes, baby, look at me” he hummed and pulled your dress and bralette down with one swift motion as your eyes pleadingly pierced into his. Jean subconsciously rolled his hips against your ass as he groped your bare tits, pinching a nipple between his fingers.

“Jean, that—That feels so good”

He grunted into the crook of your neck, already on the edge, fighting the urge to hump you from behind until he cums. He wanted to make you feel amazing first. “That’s it, pretty girl. Tell me what feels good”

“Can you please touch me?” you looked at him with big eyes and Jean felt himself leak onto your dress as your hand grabbed his, guiding it down to your panties.

He carefully pulled on the hem of the tight dress, exposing your lacey underwear. His eyes darkened with lust at the sight of such a sexy piece between your innocently soft thighs. Jean brushed a finger across the fabric, making you shiver as his fingertips pressed into the spot where your wetness soaked through. He started gently rubbing your sensitive clit through your panties.

“Like this?” Jean mumbled, his breath hot against your ear. You nodded frantically as soft moans escaped your lips, the feeling so ethereal, you were unable to form any words.

“Let’s get this off of you, cutie” he cooed, and your hands hurried to help him as he hooked his fingers on your thong, pulling it down to your knees. You kicked it off of your legs, then let Jean’s hand open your thighs wide again. “Such a good girl for me”

Jean’s eyes glued to the sopping heaven between your spread legs, and drew a whine from you as his fingers digged into your hips, hard. He carefully glided a finger across your slit, his delicate touch making you squirm. “Fuck— You’re dripping”

“Because of you” you moaned, looking at Jean’s large fingers slipping through your wet folds, drinking in the heavenly sight. Jean gritted his teeth, then lightly bit down on your earlobe. Because of him.

“This pretty little pussy only gets so wet for me, huh?” he smiled to himself as he coated his fingers in your slick, his cock throbbing as your wet little sounds hit his ears. His hand started to drag painfully slow circles on your clit.

“Mmhm” you moaned in agreement as you felt yourself losing your mind from his touch. “Jean, I—I want you inside”

“Does my pretty girl want to be stretched out on my fingers?”

“Yes!” you cried out and he grunted in your ear. He obeyed your wish, pressing his middle finger to your sopping entrance, then slowly slid in his fingertip. Your moans started to turn slutty, and it drove him insane. “More, please—“

“So needy” his finger slipped further inside with his words, your slick walls clenching around it as Jean found the sensitive, spongy little spot inside you and pressed into it.

“Oh my god— Jean!”

“Does this feel good, baby?” he asked, hot breath against your neck, pressing his thumb on your swollen clit as his middle finger picked up the pace. He moved in and out of you, curving his finger just enough to drag against your spongy spot every time while his other hand fondled the soft plush of your breast.

“It feels so good—Please, more” you whined while obediently looking into his eyes - but Jean couldn’t take his off of the lewd scene of your prefect body spread out in front of him. You moaned loudly as he added his ring finger, careful as he stretched your sensitive walls, then immediately picked up a faster pace when he felt your insides relaxing and molding to his touch.

“Fuck, you’re so tight…”

“Holy sh—FUCK” your eyes closed shut as the intense pleasure of him fingering your pussy flowed in your core, and Jean kept the same rhythm, two thick fingers pumping in and out of you as you squeezed around them. It felt so good being stretched out, being so full and stuffed.

“You like getting fingerfucked, huh?” he darkened with lust as your pussy squelched, the sounds of your desperate moans and your wet pussy creaming around his fingers making his mind blurry. He couldn’t help his hips grinding against your ass, his precum wetting the fabric of both of your clothes. “Fuck— Y’like getting stuffed with my fingers?”

“Mmh YES” you whined, almost sobbed out from the overwhelming pleasure building up inside you as you neared your orgasm. “Jean, I’m—“

“That’s it, baby, you’re gonna cum on my fingers. Let it go” he groaned in your ear, eyes pinned to your pretty, flushed face as warmth filled your cheeks, you squeezed your eyes shut and your breath caught in your throat as you reached your peak. Jean moaned at the heavenly feeling of dragging his fingers along your tight walls, growing wetter and squelchier as he practically bullied your sweet spot - until the knot inside your stomach became undone, and you exploded. “Let me have it, pretty girl”

“JEAN!”

An intense wave of orgasm swept through you, the feeling so powerful only Jean’s name and nonsensical moans could leave your mouth. Jean’s movements slowed down as he felt your pussy gush a little on his hand, gooey wetness pooling at his palm.

“Look at how much you love getting fucked by my fingers” he grinned and you both gazed at the strings of wetness connecting your pussy to his hand as he pulled away. You whimpered as his fingers slipped out of you, already missing the feeling of being stuffed full.

Jean shifted on the bed behind you, and hovered over you after laying you flat on your back. Your eyes met in an intense, heavy gaze.

“You did so good” he smiled as you blushed under his burning stare, then pressed a soft kiss on your swollen lips. You kissed him back eagerly while you grabbed his hand between your legs and pulled it up to your face.

Jeans mouth parted, breath caught in his throat as you broke the kiss and put his fingers in your mouth. You felt a new wave of arousal as your eyes locked with his, sucking his fingers clean as you tasted yourself. You pulled them out of your mouth with a smack, Jean instantly closing the distance between your lips with an eager, sloppy kiss. He moaned in your mouth as he felt your taste on your tongue.

He lifted his head, hovering over you as his thumb brushed along your lower lip. As if you perfectly understood each other without words, you obediently opened your mouth, then put your tongue out to let the line of drool spill into your mouth from Jean’s. Wet warmth spread on your tongue, the feeling so lewd, so messy and sloppy, you couldn’t help whimpering in pleasure.

Jean’s thumb pushed on your warm tongue and your mouth closed, wrapping your lips around it again. “Your mouth feels incredible—shit”

“I want to take your cock in my mouth” you replied softly and Jean’s head buzzed at hearing that. His achingly hard, leaky cock wanted nothing more than to be buried between those plump lips of yours - but he knew he wouldn’t last a minute. He wanted to pleasure you some more.

Jean kissed you again instead. His lips moved gently against yours, then moved down to your jaw, your neck as your head rolled back with a moan. You felt an airy whisper against your skin, “Not yet, baby”

His lips wandered confidently, knowing exactly what he wanted. He moved to your breasts, drawing a whine out of you as his tongue twirled around your hardened nipple. Jean adored your boobs - he admired them for a while, fondling, licking and gently biting down on them, taking his sweet time before he started moving down your stomach. He left wet little pecks on your skin, feeling you get more sensitive and squirmy as he reached your pretty little mount of venus.

Warmth spread on your face as you looked down at the pretty man between your legs, feeling the heat of his face radiating to the sensitive skin of your pussy as he leaned close. You came on his fingers shortly before, but you still got flustered as you gazed at his face, a few strands of hair falling to his forehead, his eyes examining your most sensitive parts so closely. Your thighs attempted to close in embarrassment, but Jean made sure to keep them open with his strong arms.

“This is the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen” he breathed out, sending shivers up your spine. He smiled at your reaction, then pressed the most gentle little peck on your puffy pink clit as his eyes darted to yours.

“Oh god, Jean—“

Jean answered with a long lick through your slit, tongue splitting your lips open as he gathered your sweet wetness. You moaned loudly, already feeling overwhelmed with pleasure. Jean moaned into your pussy as he pushed his tongue into your warm entrance. He wanted to stuff your wet little hole full of his cock so, so bad.

“Oh my god, that feels so good—feels so good” you whimpered as his tongue slipped up to your clit, starting to lick with a steady rhythm as his fingers pulled your lips apart. He groaned as he had his face buried in your pussy, the vibrations of his voice sending electric waves to your core. His lips occasionally closed around your clit as he slurped and continued licking.

“Mmhmy god” Jean mumbled as your hand gripped his hair, tugging on it as you completely lost yourself in the pleasure, thighs jolting, toes curling, a moaning and nonsensically babbling mess.

Jean looked up at your beautiful face between your breasts and his vision became blurry with arousal. Your pretty sounds and your delicious wetness on his tongue made him roll his hips onto the bed as he layed on his stomach with his trousers and boxers only partly pulled down, grinding into the mattress slowly, the friction elevating his senses.

Your orgasm built up even more quickly this time, and as you returned your gaze to Jean, you instantly felt yourself slipping over the edge. The sight of him licking your sensitive little pussy, his face smushed into it as he thrusted his hips against the bed, rutting and fucking into it while moaning into you was just too much to bear.

“Don’t stop licking, baby, I—I’m cumming” you muttered and the knot in your stomach snapped again as Jean’s eyes pierced into yours. Jean grunted against you as your legs started trembling, soft little moans falling from your lips as you came for the second time. He lapped at your overstimulated little clit as you came down from your orgasm, but he just couldn’t stop rutting into the bed as he neared his own peak. “Jean, c’mere”

Jean pushed himself up from the bed, quickly pulling down and kicking off his trousers alongside with his underwear, then got on his knees above you to your hand’s inviting motion. Your fingers digged into his thighs as you directed him to kneel on both sides of you - you laying there underneath him, his hard and swollen cock hovering over your pretty face was so lewd, he could cum just from this sight alone.

“I’m so close” Jean whimpered, his hand gently fisting his sensitive tip, careful not to immediately spurt all over you. Your hands greedily wandered up his thighs to cup his balls, so sensitive and heavy, full of cum just for you. You licked your lower lip as you raised your gaze to Jean’s desperate face, flushed with desire.

“Cum all over my face then, pretty boy” you bit down on your lip and took his cock out of his hand. Jean’s head started spinning and he let out a loud moan as you opened your lips, sliding his tender, swollen tip into your warm mouth. Your eyes closed at the feeling and the taste of his precum on your tongue.

After a few moments, you made sure to stare right into Jean’s eyes as your soft lips wrapped around his thick shaft. Jean’s breathing got heavier as you sucked on the head of his cock, suckling gently before swirling your tongue around it. His thumb caressed your cheek as you moved your head to suck more of him into your mouth, eager to take all of his length - even if it seemed impossible.

“Y/n—fuck—slower, y’gonna make me cum” he tried to pull back with a breathy moan, but that just made you even more determined. You wanted him to see fireworks as you milked him dry. “You feel so—so fucking good”

You wrapped a hand around his girth as your wet lips dragged along a part of his length, sucking on the sensitive tip at the end.

“That—that feels good” Jean groaned at the sight of your pretty lips wrapping around his thick cock. “Suck on it, pretty girl”

Your tongue twirled around his head mercilessly as you hollowed your cheeks, lips sucking it tightly into your mouth over and over again. Jean’s vision went white at the unearthly sensation - his thighs started trembling, hips subconsciously rolling as he fucked into your mouth when his orgasm came crumbling down. “I’m—”

Jean let out a deep grunt followed by small moans of your name as he spurted his cum into your mouth. Thick white ropes gushed down your tongue, then all over your lips and a little on your cheek as you opened your mouth, pressing the sensitive slit of his tip on your puckered lips as he was cumming. You moaned in pleasure as the hot liquid started running down on your cheek.

“Oh my god” Jean said with a shaky breath as you grabbed his hand, using his finger to scoop his hot cum back to your lips. You gazed at him with eyes full of adoration as you moved his hand to sweep all of his seed into your mouth, licking his fingers clean. You felt a deep satisfaction as you tasted him and Jean’s head kept spinning as you swallowed all of it. “Holy—“

He plumped down on the bed next to you, laying close as the bare, hot skin of your bodies touched. You turned on your side to face him, your eyes softly sinking into each other’s. Jean couldn’t imagine a more beautiful sight than your flushed cheeks under your pretty freckles, your gorgeous eyes glistening at him, messy hair falling onto the pillow, sweet lips curving into a smile as he pulled you closer into a hug.

“Your smartass is just as delicious as you look” he mumbled against your cheek and you chuckled. You cupped his face into your hands as he planted small kisses all over your cheeks. Reality slowly set back in as you realized the loud music of Connie’s party was still pounding downstairs.

“Your dumbass just made me cum in Connie’s parents’ bed”

Jean laughed out loud as you made him realize, then digged his fingers into your hips as he pulled you onto himself.

“Twice” he added with a cocky grin and you bit back your own smirk. You honestly felt like you could go for a third one, still missing the feeling of his now familiar cock inside of you…

“Would it be highly inappropriate if—“ you let your hand wander down to his stomach. “If I asked you to—“

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

You both jolted in shock at the loud knocking on the bedroom door, followed by a shuffling at the doorknob. Jean jumped to his feet as he quickly grabbed his trousers from the floor, and you hastily pulled your bralette and dress back up on your breasts, pulling your dress down as you stood up. You silently blessed your past self for locking the door beforehand.

“Who the fuck is in there?!” Connie’s muffled shout came from the other side of the door, and you and Jean both froze. Your eyes met and you had to physically force yourselves to hold back a laugh bursting out of you.

You tried to keep your calm as you yelled back. “It’s me, Connie! I’m using the bathroom, I’ll be out there in a minute!”

“Y/n! Hurry up, I’m fucking pissing myself!” he squealed from the other side, and laughter bursted out of Jean’s pursed lips with a spitting sound, your shoulders silently shaking as you tried to smoothen out the jumbled bedsheets. Jean accepted his fate without a word, and opened the closet to hide inside as he tried to keep himself from wheezing with laughter.

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

husband!! jean kirstein headcanons

- always ‘my wife this, my wife that’

- absolutely said ‘sorry babe i’m not an emotional kind of guy i won’t cry on our wedding day’ but busted out the waterworks as soon as he saw you

- also could not get through his vows clearly

- wanted to do the trend of freezing the wedding cake to share on every anniversary

- tells you ‘happy anniversary baby’ on every single anniversary ‘we’ve been married for one month!’

- got you the exact ring you wanted and made sure his band matched yours

- had a very intimate, well throughout proposal- something special for both of you

- made sure you had your nails done before the proposal (he’s always thinkin ahead)

- holds your hand and always plays with your ring

- plays with his ring when lost in deep thought/thinking really hard

- totally carried you into bed after the wedding

- watched you get just a lil too drunk at the reception but had so much fun

- was never really big into the concept of marriage but you had changed his mind

- absolute bomb wedding night sex. honeymoon sex all weeeek baby

click HERE for my jean kirstein x reader fanfiction. will be a slow burn with topics of grief, death, drugs, alcohol, sex!!, mental illness, eating disorders, etc. i hope you enjoy babies <3

[reinerzbongoz]

FF is now out on all platforms bitchessss! 😆💜