#Jean kirschtein fanfiction

[hanjisungslag]

attack on titan headcanons #12

synopsis: saying i love you for the first time ♡

characters involved: eren, mikasa, armin, sasha, connie, jean, reiner, annie, bertolt, levi, erwin & hange

notes: i bought a new jeans album for the first time & i got 5 photo cards?! (i got haerin btw)

��� eren jaeger - he said it first

oh he always knew, he just refused to admit it. even if he admitted he liked you and maybe you even started dating, which is great and all but LOVING you was a different story. he didn’t know what’d he do if he lost you. however, it’s you. he couldn’t keep it locked away for that long! he spilled the beans in the midst of a conversation and you, of course, said it back.

“so, yeah! i was just sitting there though, i didn’t do anything.”

“y/n?”

“yeah…?”

“i love you”

your jaw dropped to the floor and you stuttered trying to get your words out “i-i love you too, eren! oh my god.”

☆ mikasa ackerman - you said it first

she already told you in a million other ways minus using her words. you knew, she knew, everyone knew!! she would rather show her love through her actions or even a hand squeeze here and there - you needed to be the one to actually say it.

you walked into your room to find mikasa folding your clothes “mikasa, you don’t need to do that for me!”

“but, i want to” she smiled at you

“aww, well thank you.” you gave her a kiss on the cheek “i love you.”

☆ armin arlert - he said it first

oh my gosh, you were so close to telling him until he blurted it out! he knew he loved you but he wanted to wait a while, he felt like he was maybe moving too fast and then he said it and then it was like omg i didn’t mean to, this is really awkward— but, you reassured him that you felt the exact same 🤍

“i love you!” armin suddenly blurted out

“i-i mean… sorry, that was probably too soon. this is going to be awkward now isn’t it? god, i’m sorry, if you want to leave i understand-”

you placed a finger over his lips and giggled “armin, i feel the exact same way. i promise. i was even gonna say it first but you beat me to it!!”

☆ jean kirsten - he said it first

he was sooo nervy! he’s such a romantic boy deep down and he was never quite sure if it was like or if it had turned to love yet until it hit him one day. you guys were just going about your usual day but for some reason, you were even more captivating that day - in the way you walked, the way you talked, something about you just made jean MELT. that’s when he knew :’).

jean was mesmerised by you today, he was non-stop staring even when you were talking to other people. you strutted your way over to your boyfriend

“well, hello” he said

you giggled “what’s up with you today?”

“just… i love my partner.”

your eyes widened and jean giggled “l-love…? well, me too! of course, i love you!”

☆ connie springer - you said it first

he was so confused and scared about these big feelings. he didn’t wanna ruin anything for him nor you and just gahhh! he felt so silly asking anyone about it as well because when you love someone, surely you know? and he did know. he was just scared. you specifically told him on a date, you guys watched the stars and you confessed. he was so relieved to hear those words and his worries suddenly went away, as well.

the air was just crisp enough and the stars were looking particularly shiny that night so what better time to confess your love for your boyfriend than right now!

“that cloud looks like booty cheeks”

you laugh “wow connie, you’re so romantic.”

“sorry” he giggled

“but that’s what i like about you. no, it’s what i love about you. i love you, connie”

“y-you do?” he sat up “oh my god, y/n! i love you too!”

☆ sasha braus - she said it first

honestly, sasha is not the type of girl to let the world that you guys live in get here down! she’d rather live her life to the fullest with friends, family, food and now, you. on a random thursday, she just felt like saying that she loved you. so, she did.

“y/n, i have something to confess.”

you stopped whatever you were up to “okay… is it bad?” you asked nervously

“oh god, no!” sasha reassured you “i just wanted to say… i love you!” she opened her arms wide

you ran to embrace her immediately “sasha! where did this come from? i mean- i love you too.”

☆ reiner braun - he said it

he knew. oh, he knew BIG TIME. but obviously, he had his whole back and forth situation with being a solider vs being a warrior… and the other two, bertolt and annie, had to remind him why they were there. he was also thinking, how the flip did he not only get a partner when they’re the devil but now he’s fallen IN LOVE? he tried his very best to contain his feelings but he couldn’t one day because when you were talking, your eyes looked too pretty and he just said it.

“then me and her got chased allll through town!” you were telling reiner a story, you laughed at your old antics and your eyes were sparkling.

reiner couldn’t hold it in anymore, he laughed and said “god, i love you.”

☆ bertolt hoover - you said it

he was sooo happy and so mushy about you when he realised but he got his booty whipped back into warrior mode and then he had the same reaction as reiner. like what has he actually gotten himself into. he really really tried to bottle it up and he did, but then you confessed. honestly, bro forgot he was from marley for a solid 6 months, he was on such a high.

“so what did you want to talk about, y/n..?” bertolt asked, clearly nervous

“i just wanted to say…” you couldn’t help but smile and finally say “i love you!”

bertolt began to tear up and all he could do was embrace you “you do? you really do? of course, i do too. i love you, a lot actually.”

☆ annie leonhart - you said it

she bottled that shit TF UP! she, unlike the two dull boys she came with, recognised that she loved you but knew she had a job to do, unfortunately. if it was up to her, she’d drag you back to marley and live happily ever after with you (and her dad, ofc). but, of course, you said it. she was obviously estatic but also like, ffs why would you say that😭. made her life A LOT happier but also a bit more difficult…

“annie, i love you.” you said with a rather nervous look on your face, you weren’t sure she would say it back but you couldn’t hold it back any longer.

she stared at you, blankly for a while until she burst into a wide smile and she scoffed “y/n. i love you too.”

you guys hugged and little did you know, annie’s smile quickly faded as reality hit her. what was she meant to do now?

☆ levi ackerman - you said it first

so incredibly terrified. he felt his feelings for you growing stronger everyday but in turn, so did his urge to breakup with you BUT, that was purely because he wanted you to be safe. everyone he has ever loved had died and nothing could prepare him for the pain like you dying would cause. in the end, you did confess to him one day. he wept, he wept and he wept in your arms. just knowing someone loved him enough to admit it, brought him to tears. the fact that you loved him! and he loved you!! but also, there was still that horribly worrying thought in the back of his mind, but he will leave it in the back of his mind for this moment.

“i love you.” three words levi always wanted to hear but made him so scared. he fell into your arms and cried, between his cries he managed to sniffle out;

“i love you too, y/n.”

☆ erwin smith - both admitted it

you guys are just like, spiritually connected. you decided on the same day to confess that you loved each other, it was such a memorable moment for the both of you. it was on your annual date night that you guys had every fortnight and erwin chose to tell you he loved you this day because he likes to be a bit extra for you ;).

erwin grabbed your hands “y/n…”

“erwin…” you replied, “i have something to tell you” he confessed

“so do i…” you both looked at each other, confused “say it on three?” you suggested and erwin nodded. you both counted and said

“i love you!” this caused you both to burst out into laughter, what a coincidence.

☆ hange zoë - they said it first

genuinely almost proposed to you😭. hange takes you and being in love with you, very seriously. it’s like a full time job for them - but in a good way, duh. they wanted to make it fun and special, though.

you and hange were the only ones left out on the training grounds which, of course meant, you had to play tag. you both chased and ran, and did a lot of laughing until you both fell from exhaustion.

as you both caught your breath, hange wrote something in the ground - “i love you, y/n.”

you looked at them and they had this wide smile… they proceeded to say “i love you, y/n!” you smiled back at them and of course said “i love you too, hange!” you both laughed.

hange then proceeded to jump on you and scream “NOW LETS GET MARRIEDDD”

[4ttack-ur-heart]

Jean Hc’s: Mf Whipped

Pairing: Jean x gn! reader modern au!

Warnings: none

Summary: Just jean not wanting to admit he’s a big softie when it comes to you.

Genre: fluff.

He’d never admit it to anyone, but Jean is the biggest softie when it comes to loving you.

Jean will absolutely hold your hand in public, kiss you, open the door for you, but he will never let anyone find out how much he’ll do for you.

Fuck, you wanna do a face mask at midnight? He’ll clip his hair back and have you apply it on him. You want to slow dance with him after watching a romcom movie? He’s there with his phone blasting pretty music. You need to talk to him after a bad day? Jean will leave his friends to make sure you’re taken care of.

He’s a simp.

But he tries to hide it.

It’s so funny when you catch on.

One day, you both were sitting at the park, hidden away from public eyes. Flowers littered around you both and you absentmindedly starting to pluck a few.

Jeans head was laying in your lap, arms crossed behind his head. His view was gazing at the clouds slowly passing by along, eyes darting to your face every few minutes with a longing smile.

“What are you doing?” He asked now with his eyes closed. He could feel your fingertips brushing along his hair every few moments and an extra weight of something being placed on him.

“Nothing, don’t move.”

Jean chuckled at your words, obviously amused in what you were doing.

After placing the last flower in his hair, you quickly snapped a picture on your phone before he noticed something was up.

“Can I look now?”

“Ugh, fine but don’t sit up.” You told him and he grabbed his phone and switched on his camera. A small smile gracing his features when he saw various amounts of little white daisies and yellow dandelions placed in his hair.

“You look so pretty.” You gushed and leaned down to kiss him.

Jean blushed a little and you had to resist the urge to tease him. His usual ‘strong man’ barrier always broke when it was just you two alone.

Jean poked at daisies before plucking one out of his hair and gently brushing your hair back and placing it behind your ear.

“There, now we both look pretty.”

————

A few days later, you were on the couch scrolling through your Instagram feed, liking your friends’ posts and commenting on a few.

Your notifications were piling in since you just posted a few pictures of some selfies you took, but the last one was something special.

“(Y/n)!” Jeans voice called through the apartment.

“Yeah?” You innocently looked up at him when he entered the room.

“Care to explain this, doll?”

Jean shoved his phone in your face and you had to blink a few times to clearly see.

A smirk grew on your face when you realized he found your special picture on the post you shared. Staring at the platform more, you realized Eren had reposted your post with the picture of Jean you had taken at the park.

The picture showed him laying down on your lap, his eyes closed and his lips were slightly parted. The little flowers in his hair were vibrant against his ashen brown locks and a small pink dust coated his cheeks from the sun. You also didn’t forget to capture the way his muscles were showing through his shirt as his arms were flexed behind his head.

You could see Eren had minimized your post on his story, the phrase ‘mf whipped fr 🤝’ in blocky letter captioned underneath the post.

A sudden laugh caught Jean off guard as he watched your reaction. You knew Eren supported your relationship to the max, but that doesn’t mean he still can’t tease Jean about it.

Looking at his face, Jean was trying to hide his amused face under a glare.

“Relax, my little flower.” You cooed in a baby voice and gently squeezed his face under your palms. “I was just showing the world how much I love you…unless you’d rather me take it down?” Your eyebrow rose as you pouted. You knew he’d never ask you to that.

He let out a soft sigh and locked his phone. “No, don’t take it down. But you owe me! I need to post another video of me working out.”

You playfully rolled your eyes as Jeans thoughts were rambling out loud.

“I’ll invite Eren to work out with me, yeah. Then when we post the video, it’ll be obvious I’m bigger than him. God damn, I’m a genius.”

Standing up, you gave him a soft peck on the cheek before walking to the bathroom.

“I’m gonna do a face mask right now, babe.”

“Wait for me!”

[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.

[cottonconnielvr]

your hand covers your mouth, struggling to keep all of your moans concealed. you laid over the bathroom counter, connie keeping eye contact with you through the mirror. one of his hands were on your waist, pulling you back to meet his thrusts. his other hand was wrapped around your neck, softly squeezing. “connie ple-asee” you whined, feeling him hit you so deep in your guts. “he’s coming up the-“ you slapped your hand over your mouth, hearing jean’s steps. connie held a sick grin, purposely going faster. connie was trying to get you two caught, his best friend just had to know how much of a slut his girlfriend was.

[jaegersolstice]

in the low-light of the morning, jean sketches you, messy-haired, soft breathed, and shut eyed.

he folds them and keeps them in his wallet, so when he goes to classes or work and misses you, he stares at the photos, thumb slightly brushing over your sleeping face.

when you catch a glance at them, gushing over his skills, he blushes but always scoffs.

“they’ll never live up to your beauty.”

[zekescherries]

⋆　cowboy!jean kirsten × bartender!reader

cowboy!jean who's popular in your small town, everywhere he goes; he's recognized.

cowboy!jean who stumbles into your bar, the bar your father passed down to you before his eventual death. but jean's presence changes things, it's no longer chatty and loud. everyone's eyes are on him.

cowboy!jean who just requests a shot, aggressively telling everyone to "fuck off". he hates when others stare at him, even if it's for good reason.

cowboy!jean who can't help but stare at you, analyzing your body language, he kick starts conversation with you and is surprised that someone can actually treat him like a person and not a walking legend.

cowboy!jean who doesn't want to admit it, but you've caught his eye.

© zekescherries 🍒

[daydreamvalley]

Jean Kirschtein reimagined in my mind

[luna-eclipse2000]

Sweet Summer Heat

Jean Kirschtein x reader

It’s a warm summer day in the middle of July. It’s beautiful and sunny out. Kids are playing on their lawns, people are at the pool, and just enjoying the heat in general. Except for you. You can’t handle heat at all. You get cold drinks and eat ice cream during the winter. If it’s 25° celsius or higher, you’re not leaving your house until it cools down. No, you prefer to sit inside in the nice air conditioning so you don’t overheat.

Nothing can get you outside in this heat. Not one, single-

Ding.

Your door bell rings. “I’m not expecting anything.” You say to yourself. The bell rings again so you get up and walk over to the door. You look through the little window that’s at the top and see Jean standing there. You feel your heart flutter before quickly opening the door. He’s standing there in his blue button-up short sleeved shirt (one of your personal favourites of his) and a pair on white shorts. He usually leaves his hair down but since it’s hot out, he put it up.

“Hey.” He greets you simply. “Hi. What are you doing here?” You ask. “I, uh, wanted to see if you wanted to hang out.” Jean answers. “Just me?” You ask. “No one else?”

“I asked Sasha, but she’s taking some seafood class with Niccolo.” Jean says. “Connie isn’t picking up. And Mikasa’s hanging out with Eren and Armin.”

“Oh… So I’m a backup?” You say. You meant to say that in your head, but it had other plans. You stand there, feeling like a jerk. “Shit, sorry, that came out wrong.” Jean quickly apologizes. “No, I was always planning on asking you. It’s just that no one else wanted to come.”

“Oh, ok.” You say, feeling slightly less embarrassed. “Um, I’m not sure. Where would we be going?”

“I was thinking down by the water.” Jean answers. “There’s a music festival going on. I thought it’d be fun. There’s live bands, obviously, some food trucks, rides and games.”

You cringe at the thought, but don’t let it show on your face. As you stand in the doorway, you can feel the humidity. “Um…” You say. You’re about to decline his offer, but the look in his eyes clenches your heart. He looks dejected, knowing that you’re about to say no. You can tell that all he wants is to hang out with someone. So against your better judgment… “Sure. Why the hell not?”

His head perks up. “Seriously? You want to go with me?”

You nod. “Yeah, of course! Sounds like fun!” It actually sounds like torture, being around so many sweaty people in the hot sun, but he looks so happy and it’s too late to take it back now. “Let me just get changed and put on sun screen. Come in.”

You stand aside so he can enter. “Thanks.” He says. “Wow. Your house is freezing.”

“Well we’re not in the middle of winter, Jean.” You remind him. “I’d prefer to be cold while inside, not sweating my ass off. I’ll be right back.”

You head upstairs and change into the coolest set of clothes you can find. A pair of cotton shorts. A cotton tank top. And a pair of sandals so you don’t have to wear socks. You head back downstairs and into the kitchen where you take a second to rummage through the junk drawer in order to grab your sunscreen.

“Have you put any sunscreen on?” You ask Jean as he stands by the front door. “Yeah, don’t worry.” He answers. “Do you need any help?”

“Could you do my back?” You request. “Sure.” He says and walks over to you. He takes the bottle of sunscreen from your hand and puts some into his. You move your hair out of the way as he starts to rub the liquid over your exposed skin. His hands move methodically as he focuses on getting every inch of skin so you don’t get burned.

It feels nice to you, almost like a massage. You swear he should’ve been a massage therapist. I mean, his hands are large enough and he certainly has the muscle strength to get out any knots he’d find.

Jean has finished rubbing the sunscreen in for about a minute now but he just wants to savour the feeling of your skin. Sure, it’s a bit sticky now but that doesn’t deter him. He still thinks it’s the softest thing he’s ever touched in his life. Then he finally stops, much to the dismay of both of you. He thinks you were starting to find it weird, but you were honestly starting to fall asleep where you stood.

“Alright. Let’s go.” He says and the quickly turns around. You can’t see it since his back is already to you, but he’s blushing a bit too hard for his liking. You follow him to the door and mentally groan as the humidity hits you like a train. You follow him to his car, which was a hand-me-down from his mom for his 18th birthday, and hop in the front seat.

It takes about ten minutes to get down to the water and another ten before you finally find a parking spot. You weren’t complaining, though, as you let the AC blast in your face. You can hear the loud music from here as you exit the car.

“Alright, where do you wanna go first?” Jean asks.

You shrug. “I dunno. Why don’t you choose? You’ve been here before, right?”

He nods. “Yeah. I came last year when Marco was playing.”

“Oh, really?” You ask as you two start to make your way down to the festival. “I haven’t seen him in forever. Is he playing this year?”

“No, he’s over in Australia doing some charity work.” Jean answers. “Of course Marco would willingly go to a place with spiders as big as my head.” You say. “What, you don’t like spiders?” He asks teasingly, knowing you don’t.

You visibly cringe. “Hell no. I can barely handle little house spiders. Remember when I used to call you over to kill one for me?”

“You mean in the middle of the night when I was finishing off an important project?” He says, remembering the exact moment you’re talking about. “How could I forget you screaming into my ear through the phone and then climbing my back like a goddamn tree?”

“Ok, don’t be so dramatic.” You say, smacking his arm lightly. “I was not screaming.”

“That’s what it sounded like to me.” He says. The crowd on the street gets thicker as you two reach the entrance to the festival. “Wanna go on a ride?”

You look at the area they set up and see a few little rides: A ferris wheel, obviously, a little rollercoaster, one of those gravity rides where the floor drops out, and one that swings like a pendulum. “Yeah, let’s do the pendulum!” You exclaim excitedly. The two of you head over and get into line.

When it’s your turn and you take a seat, you groan at the feeling of sweat under you. “They couldn’t wipe the seats off first? When I stand, everyone’s gonna think I pissed myself.”

“You want me to check to make sure you’re good to walk?” Jean offers. “Sure. Thanks.” You accept. He’s a sneaky bugger, Jean. He’s using this opportunity as an excuse to look at your behind without you getting suspicious. But then he starts to feel like a gross frat boy, taking your trust and running with it. So he shakes his head as the ride starts to move.

The both of you scream and holler in joy at the feeling of swinging high up into the air, and then plunging back down towards the ground. The ride ends about a minute later and Jean does as he offered, but doesn’t take his time like he did with the sunscreen. “You’re fine. Don’t worry.”

You sigh in relief. “Oh, good. Now, c’mon. Let’s go play some games.”

You two immediately head over to all the games set up with cheap, dumb prizes for people to win. Jean doesn’t really care about the prizes. Any time he wins one of these games, he ends up giving it to the person he beat. It just brings out his competitive side which he loves to feel. It’s like a small adrenaline rush.

So as you two sit down at the water shoot game, your friendship basically goes out the window. You’re now his enemy. And enemies need to be conquered. Two more people step up to the game and take the seats beside you. Seeing the determined, smug look in his eyes makes you want to beat him.

“Alright, ready?” The carney says. “Set. Go!”

You aim the water gun right at the centre and quickly start to pull ahead of Jean’s little character. Suddenly, you feel him poke your ribs, causing you to stop pushing the button. You gasp and tart to press the button again. Unfortunately, those few seconds were enough for him to beat you.

“You little cheater!” You scolds playfully. Jean just smiles in response but then stops as he hears the kid beside you start to cry. He gets up from his seat and kneels down in front of the boy. “Hey, kid. Which prize do you want?”

“H-Huh?” The boy asks through his tears. “Which prize?” Jean repeats. “C’mon there has to be one you want, right? I don’t really care for the prizes, so tell the carney which one you want.”

“Um… I’d like that one.” He says as he rubs his eyes. “The orange penguin?” Jean asks as he looks at the prize. “Nice choice.” The carney gets the prize down and hands it to Jean, who then hands it to the boy.

“Alright, James. What do you say?” His mother asks. “Thank you!” The boy says, smiling wide as he hugs his new toy. “No problem, buddy.” Jean says as they walk away.

You feel your heart swell watching the interaction go on. “That was so sweet of you.”

“Ah, well, didn’t want to leave the little man disappointed.” Jean says, brushing off his kindness. He notices the look you’re giving him and looks away with another blush on his face. “Where to next?”

You two wander between the different games until you spot a prize you desperately want. It’s a white polar bear with a blue tie. “Oh, my god, that bear’s so cute!”

“You want it?” He asks. You nod quickly. He walks up to the carney and hands her the money. It’s one of those balloon pop games. The sign says that he only has to pop five in a row to win a medium prize, but he’s determined to show off. He grabs the darts and starts to quickly throw them into each balloon, popping each one as he does. You and the carney are pretty impressed by his aiming.

“I think I deserve two prizes for popping them all.” Jean says smugly before flashing you his signature smug, shit-eating grin. “Uh, yeah. You can say that again.” The carney says. “Which two would you like, sir?”

“Which would you like?” He asks you. You obviously point out the bear, and then you look and see a matching one with a red bowtie instead. “You want both bears?” You nod. “Then both bears you shall have.”

The carney grabs both bears and hands them to you. I tuck the blue tied one under your arm and then hold out the red tied one round him. “What you can’t carry both yourself?” Jean asks. “Need a big strong man to help you?”

“No, I wanted us to have matching bears.” You answer innocently. His heart feels like it’s actually going to explode. You smile up at him as he takes the bear out of your hand. Anyone else who looks at Jean right now would just see him as a gruff, 6’4 man. But he’s pretty sure he’s melting into a puddle from the cuteness.

“You wanna head towards the stage now?” You ask. He nods silently as he holds the bear. As you two walk back out into the sun, you realize that it was probably a bad idea winning the prize so soon. You now had to a carry a fluffy plush in the scorching heat. You almost die just at the realization, and then die again as you feel your hand heat up. You pass by the indoor building where the bathrooms, event space and the regular food stands lives, and want to run into the nice air conditioning.

But you promised Jean to go watch the bands for a bit so you soldier on. The music is good. Some songs make you want to rip your ears off, but others aren’t bad. Typically these types of events are for first time performers and indie bands. You can easily tell who the indie players and who the newbies are. The sun starts to get so hot that you stumble into Jean. He immediately notices how red you look.

“Hey, why don’t we head inside and cool off?” He suggests. You quickly nod and leave your spot to head over to the building. There’s a few people inside waiting for the washrooms and just cooling off in general. Jean runs over to an empty table so no one else claims it. You take a seat and place your bear on the table top. He does too but keeps his eye on you just in case you decide to faint.

He cools down relatively fast. But you still feel boiling. “Goddamn, is it hot in here or is it me?” You ask. “It’s you.” He responds quickly. He didn’t mean for that to come out. His face turns red as the both of you stare at each other. “Uh- I mean, you still look like you’re hot. So I’m just gonna, uh, go grab you some water.” He quickly stands up and rushes over to the vending machine.

He sighs in relief thinking he just saved himself from any awkwardness. You, however, feel a bit sad and a little insecure now. You know that you were reading too much into that. It was pretty obvious that you were still really hot from the hot. And you did ask the question. But you did hope that he thought you looked hot. Or at least pretty. But you’re drenched in sweat so that look’s probably out the window by now.

He returns with the cold water and opens it for you. “Here. You’ll feel better.”

You nod silently and take the bottle from him. The sudden cold on your hot hands causes you to gasp. It feels good. You take a sip and then quickly start to chug it. “Good thing I got that for you.” Jean says when you eventually stop drinking, over half the water is gone. “You were seriously dehydrated. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to keep interrupting your fun.” You answer honestly. “You wouldn’t have interrupted my fun.” Jean says. “I just want to hang out with you. That’s where the fun is.”

You smile, feeling a bit better. But you still have that aching feeling in your stomach over how fast he explained his words. “We’ll stay inside for as long as you want, ok?” Jean says. You nod, taking another sip of water. You both go on your phones. You start playing a game a solitaire to relax mind while he just pretends to be doing something. In reality, he keeps looking at you.

He can see that something’s wrong. You were talking your head off not too long ago about the bad music and which songs you did like. But now you’re oddly silent. Did he do something to set you off? Did he not recover as well as he thought he did? Oh great, now you were feeling embarrassed that he called you hot, the very thing he tried to avoid. He watches as the red flush disappears and is replaced by its normal hue. He swears he can see tears prick at your eyes, but he opts not to say anything in fear of humiliating you further.

He knows he didn’t ask you outright, but he’s viewing this as a date. He thought he was doing so well earlier. He won you prizes, got your heart to melt, showed off his skills, made you laugh it was going great! Then he had to open that stupid horse mouth of his and ruin it all. “You ready to go back out and walk around?” Jean asks. “We can go try some of the food trucks. I hear there’s one that sells gelato.”

You nod silently and put your phone away. He had to make this not-official date better. He couldn’t drop you off at home with you like this. So off to the food trucks you went. You finally find the gelato truck and get in line. “What are you gonna get?” He asks. “I’m thinking of getting salted caramel.”

You hum for a second as your eyes scan the menu board. Some of the items are covered with a Sold Out sign so you have a bit of a limited amount of options. “I’m gonna get lemon blueberry.”

You two get up to the server and you tell him what you want. Jean then quickly adds his orders and pulls out his wallet again. “Jean, I can get my own gelato.” You say. “I have money.”

“I know you do but I asked you to come with me, so I’m paying.” Jean says. You open your mouth to protest again. “Don’t argue with me, it isn’t gonna work.”

So you close your mouth again as Jean hands over the money. “Have a nice day.” The server says as you two walk away with your bowls of gelato clutched between your hands. You two walk around aimlessly while enjoying the sweet treat. You watch as he licks his spoon. You start to wonder what it would feel like for his lips to be on yours. When you realize that you’re getting jealous of a damn treat, you start talking about how his job at the art museum is going.

You chat and joke, but Jean can still sense that something’s off. The sun begins to set a bit so things start cooling off. The crowd thins, which also helps the temperature.

Taking one final bet into fixing what he did, he brings you over to the Ferris wheel. “You like Ferris wheels, right?” He asks.

You nod. “Yeah. I like watching the buildings go bigger and smaller.”

You two get up to the front of the line and wait until the red car stops in front of you. A couple gets out and you’re helped in first. Jean quickly slips the operator a bill. “Stop us at the top, please.” He whispers.

The man takes the money and nods as Jean quickly follows after you. He places his bear to his left so that there isn’t a barrier between you two. He watches as your face lights up, completely ignoring his surroundings. The car stops perfectly at the top of the ride giving you the best view of the lake and the city. You look down at all the people walking home from the festival.

“So, you gonna finally tell me what’s wrong?” Jean asks suddenly. You gasp softly and look at him. You thought you were doing such a good job at hiding your feelings. But his eyes tell you that he knows something’s off.

“What- What do you mean?” You stutter. You don’t want to ruin the end of the night by saying anything. It’s vain and a little selfish. “You’ve been acting off since we went inside.” He says. Damn it. He was such a good observer. “I thought you were still just overheated. Then I thought you might be hungry or had low blood sugar. But you’re still off. Did I do something wrong?”

You open your mouth to act dumb again. But he’s got you totally trapped. “I…” He looks at you with concern, determined to fix whatever it is. Determined to make you feel better. You sigh and look back out at the scenery. “You called me hot…” He sighs. He knew it. He knew that slip up made you uncomfortable. “and you didn’t mean it.”

“Huh?” Is all he can say. “You said ‘It’s just you’ when I asked if it was hot inside or if it was just me.” You remind him. “Then you said that you meant that it had to be me because I still looked hot. And then you went and got me water.”

“I thought it was because I had callee you hot.” He asks. “Wait, what?” You ask, looking back at him. “Ah, shit.” He thinks to himself. No back tracking now. “I, um… I did mean to call you hot. But I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I thought it made you uncomfortable so I reiterated what I meant. Why are you upset I didn’t stick to my word?”

“Well…” You fiddle with your fingers nervously. “Because then that means you think I’m attractive, like how I think you’re attractive.” Jean’s heart almost stops at your confession. “I know everyone says you look like a horse, but I don’t. I’ve always thought you were incredibly handsome. So… yeah, I guess that’s it. I just wanted someone to tell me I look nice.”

Jean blinks for a few seconds as the ride begins to turn again. How could you be insecure about yourself? And you’re so insecure that you just want someone to say you look nice? Not stunning or gorgeous? Is the bar really set that low? He figures he needs to get a shovel and dig in order to reach it if the goal is basically just ‘say I look nice’. Now he’s on a mission. No way in hell is he gonna let you go a day without being complimented.

“I always think you look nice.” He confesses. “You look stunning no matter how you dress. Like when you were in your PJs when I came to get you. You looked adorable. And now? You look amazing! You could wear a damn potato sack and I’d still think you’re the most beautiful person on the face of the earth. I thought I was being so obvious!”

“Obvious?” You ask, tilting your head slightly. “About what? About how you like the way I look?”

The ride stops so you two are forced to get out. He doesn’t answer right away as he walks to the rope that sections off the pathway and the water. “Not just the way you look.” He says. “You in general. Your laugh. Your personality. Your voice. I love it all.”

“You love me?” You ask, feeling your heart leap with joy. “Of course.” He says, turning to look at you. “I’ve just never mustered up the courage to ask you out. So I kinda… never actually asked anyone else to join me today. I made all those reasons up. I knew today would keep them away from here since it’s so hot. But I guess I never stopped to consider that you’d get overheated, too.”

You smile softly. “Next time, we’re staying inside.”

“Next time?” He asks hopefully. “Well, yeah.” You confirm, gently taking his hand in yours. “This doesn’t technically count as a first date since you didn’t properly ask me. So we still need to have one. I mean, if we’re gonna start going out.”

He swears fireworks start going off. You rub your thumb over the back of his hand, looking down and smiling softly. “Then would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Of course, I would.”

[ppushable]

276 times i died for you

jean kirschtein x fem!reader / oneshot / wc: 9.0k

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Love. Of course I love him.

(YOU'RE OBSESSED WITH HIM.)

I'm infatuated.

In which my dreams come true. (IN WHICH YOU LIVE IN A FANTASY.) In which I kill myself this many times over. For *him*.

This time around, it will all work out.

IT WILL ALL WORK OUT!

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ao3 tags:

this has been sitting in my drafts for months because it's edgy but what the hell sure / Reincarnation / Angst / Unrequited Love / Implied/Referenced Abuse / reader is kind of a loser / no y/n / Hurt No Comfort / Reader-Insert / POV First Person / Present Tense / Inner Dialogue / Self-Hatred / Implied/Referenced Suicide / But its chill / Reader Is Crazy / reader is obsessed / you freak / Bad Ending / Cross-Posted on Wattpad / Cross-Posted on Tumblr

hi!

i'm not really sure what culminated in this? maybe i woke up a touch more delusional than usual.

reader has her flaws but don't we all. (killing-yourself-275-times-for-a-fictional-man kind of flaws. also she's a total loser. but i think a lot of you guys can relate.)

you reincarnate, you fail, rinse and repeat. the sections are pretty short. that's pretty much all of it.

also up on ao3 and wattpad

enjoy, as always <3

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prologue

The clicking of the keyboard. The rhythm of my fingers against the caps, words a constant steady stream from my mind to the glowing document. It comes so easy to me, recording the thoughts and desires that have been running through my mind for so long they’ve eroded a deep cavern through my consciousness. Fancies and yearnings that have since become a fundamental part of me, threaded into the fabric of my being. Same fandom, same character, same love.

“And then I just… understood. How it’s the little moments you hold on to the most.” And then he grins.

“Maybe,” I murmur, swiping my thumbs over his palms, “it’s the other way around.”

He blinks. “Yeah.”

Losing my train of thought, I lean back dangerously in my chair. It’s one of the swivel ones that can go way back, but I’ve fallen over before. I lean back as reality comes rushing in, flushing away the comforting warm waters of fantasy.

Rent’s due next week. Fuck, I have to work today. Did I make a lunch? Well, whatever. Maybe I should call in, haha. When’s the last time I cleaned the floor? Laundry? Should I fix the AC or just buy another one? Need to call the mechanic about that weird noise in the car. And renew my license before it’s too late. I need to wash dishes before I leave. I need to keep track of my income. I need to start thinking about my retirement. I need to I need to I need to—

The computer screen whisks out of view as my stomach lurches from its safe spot — I’m falling, fuck! My body prepares for a landing

that never comes.

Nothing comes.

I can’t hear the buzzes and sighs of background noise I didn’t even register until they’re gone.

I can’t see, I can’t open the eyelids that are supposed to be there, can’t search for the light.

I can’t feel. The breeze against my skin, the tickling of my hair on my face, the weight of a human body.

I can’t breathe, but I have no desire for air, nor pain from the lack of it.

Everything is… still. Paused, stale, bated. Nothing.

Am I dead? I’m dead, aren’t I?

Never would I have expected this. All the jokes and profound thoughts lying in bed, thinking about what lies beyond without fear. Well, I’m fucking fearful now. Everything is over, nobody will know who I am, I’ll never amount to the person my younger self would have imagined (but who am I kidding, I never would have), the shift manager will curse my name when I don’t come in, my computer is still running, the state they will find my body in is nothing short of deplorable. I’ve squandered my chance.

Did I… do what I wanted in life?

Did I? Did I?

No, I never did what I wanted. I only ever did what made me comfortable.

And the realization eats away at me, turns me into a yawning cavern mouth that leads to naught.

I just wasted myself.

OH WELL.

It is what it is, right?

IT IS WHAT IT IS.

At least I was happy when I was writing.

AT LEAST.

I could’ve had it a lot worse.

YOU COULD’VE.

I could…

YEAH?

That voice wasn’t always there. That echo of my internal monologue. Unbearably loud yet inaudible. Identical in nature, so seamlessly me that I haven’t been noticing that it’s not.

I’m not alone.

YOU’RE NOT.

And it’s this that makes me feel as if I should be afraid, if I had the body and capacity to do so.

IT’S HARD TO BE SCARED WHEN YOU’VE NOTHING LEFT TO PROTECT.

What is this, some kind of joke? Am I already going crazy?

NO.

I don’t know where I end and when… that begins.

IT DOESN’T MATTER.

Oh my god.

And then it’s quiet.

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WERE TRULY HAPPY?

Was I? What kind of question is that?

YOU WERE, WEREN’T YOU, WHEN YOU WERE WRITING THOSE STORIES.

I… was happy. Happiness isn’t a constant state of being, it’s— it comes in little moments. I was happy enough.

DO YOU WANT A CHANCE?

… What?

DO YOU WANT TO LIVE IN A FANTASY?

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1st reincarnation - modern au

I nearly fall over when I’m slapped in to this body, and I nearly collapse again when something bumps into me. But my fall is broken by something soft and hard and solid.

“Woah… there.”

Neon lights, stale and heavy air. Out of reflex I suck in a huge breath. Puke and alcohol and bad breath and sweat and body odour. Silhouetted bodies writhing before me, all around me, in tune to the gaudy noises blaring from all corners of the area that’s supposed to be music.

I’m at a club. I’m alive and in a club.

“You okay?”

And that voice…

I spin on my heel, nearly tripping — since when was having a body so difficult? — and he’s there.

Jean. Jean Kirschtein.

The man I’ve been fantasizing about since the sixth grade, the man I’ve broken keyboards writing for, the man I’ve loved over a thousand lifetimes. It’s him.

I know things about you that you don’t even know about yourself. I’ve fucked you. I’ve killed you. I’ve had your children. I’ve seen you at your very worst and cheered for you at your best. I’ve held you as you breathed your last breath, my name on your tongue, and you’ve done the same for me.

And now you’re here, in this club, with me… drunk out of your fucking mind.

Real. Real. Your eyes, unfocussed, the strands of your hair against the light, your posture. Just as I’ve described, hundreds of times over, except no words can truly begin to explain the entity that is you.

“Why are you staring? Like what you see?”

And that voice.

LET’S DANCE.

I push my palm flat against his broad chest, I’m fucking touching him, and bring the rest of my body closer. And dance.

I was never much of a dancer. I’m still not. But if I let it all get to me, the music, the vibration of the ground of others’ feet, the feeling of Jean against me… I don’t have to worry at all. My body moves without discretion, and the music and noise envelopes me completely.

I notice too late that he’s gone. So I stop. And it doesn’t take long to find his tall frame poking out of the crowd in another part of the club.

He’s bathed in a red light, dazed, but not drunk-dazed. In-love-dazed. And I would know, because I’ve imagined and written that expression so many times before.

Only it was always directed at me, the reader, and not the girl he’s looking at right now. The girl who dances without care, the girl who is more beautiful, stronger, the girl I could never hope to be.

No. This isn’t happening.

Blood in my mouth — I’ve been biting the inside of my cheek. There’s nothing left inside except a sinkhole, one that yawns impossibly wider with every second and threatens to take me over entirely. Breath comes shaky. That’s supposed to be me. That’s supposed to be me! Right?

Right?

She twirls with this unearthly kind of grace and Jean takes her hand midway, leading her through the action, and end off in a close embrace. And it’s like it’s scripted.

They lean in closely for a delicate kiss.

A friend — Connie — approaches.

They break it off nervously.

End script.

I mean, who am I kidding? Of course he would go for her. She’s perfect, and I’m just… the warmup. Someone jostles into me from behind and now there’s nobody to catch me; I land hard on the linoleum, arms numbly blocking my fall. Fuck. Fuck. My hands curl into little fists, collecting grime. What the hell am I doing here? Who the hell do I think I am?

Eager, blissfully unaware feet land on my dress. I need to go. I can’t stay here.

But when I try to stand a sudden swell of bodies comes rushing in and knocks me back down. Well, fuck you then, just let me die here.

A high-pitched, obnoxious laugh reaches my ears. With another quick look-around I heave myself up. Damned if I die here. Before anyone else has the chance to move me I haul myself to the wall and stick to it.

The two of them and Connie are gone now.

I just… my only chance.

Look at me, playing the heartbroken maiden.

Bathrooms… I shuffle along the wall until I find it and slip inside.

Contrary to everything else, it’s brightly lit in blue. The sinks are decently clean and the stalls, for the most part, appear empty. It sounds empty, anyways. The music here is muffled and echoey; even the smallest movement seems to be exemplified by the tiled walls.

I enter the closest one and lock the door, sitting on the seat even though a thousand people’s asses have touched it. Whatever.

When I saw you here before…

What am I doing here.

Couldn’t look you in the eye…

Who the hell plays this song at a club?

You looked like—

The door bangs open; feet barge in. A feminine gag, a stall door smacking against the wall. More gags, vomit slapping the toilet water, an acrid stench.

“You’re okay! You got this…”

That’s a guy’s voice. How sweet, he came to the bathroom to help her out. Maybe I should pop out of here and yell at him. Haha.

Gently, so as not to make noise, I press my palm flat against the door.

They’re probably taking a cab or something. Leaning against each other in the backseat while Connie gabbles on about whatever to the driver. I smile for about a second before I have to clamp my lips between my teeth again.

I’m not their friend. I’m an imposter. (Among us!) I’m the one that fantasizes in the dark of their companionship. Writing all the time. I’m… well, frankly, I’m a creep.

And I’m a weirdo…

Holy fuck.

YOU GIVING UP?

No.

AND HOW DO YOU SUPPOSE YOU FIND THEM?

Go away. How did this happen?

YOU’RE THINKING IN LOOPS.

It’s not a big deal.

RIGHT.

Shut up. It’s not a big deal, I can just come back here. Maybe it’s a slowburn.

OR MAYBE SHE’S ENDGAME.

DID YOU SEE THE WAY HE LOOKED AT HER?

JUST LIKE HE’S SUPPOSED TO LOOK AT YOU.

IF YOU THINK THAT’S PLATONIC YOU’RE KIDDING YOURSELF.

Let me think. Just let me—

The stall door suddenly jolts as if hit from the outside; my hand comes flying off.

What—

“OPEN IT.”

What?

“OPEN IT.”

The voice in my head. That’s the voice in my head, someone’s talking with it—

“OPEN. IT.”

I stare at the latch.

“YES, THERE, RIGHT THERE.”

Fuck. Fuck, this is the moment Jean swoops in and saves me—

“OPEN THE DOOR. NOBODY IS HERE TO SAVE YOU.”

The puking couple—

“I WON’T ASK AGAIN.”

I try to swallow. Open. I raise my hand — when did my fingers start trembling? — and unlatch the door.

Cli-cli-click.

It swings open to… a brunette with puke dribbling down her chin.

…!!?

Oh my fucking god.

What the hell is this?

??!

“STAND UP.”

I do, leaning heavily against the wall.

“COME.”

We walk to the sink. She pulls something out of her purse. A needle.

My voice is but a tremble. “What?”

“IF YOU WANT ANOTHER CHANCE, YOU HAVE TO DIE.” She mimics inserting the needle into her arm. “THIS IS ONE WAY.“

“I can’t do that. I don’t do that.”

She turns fully to meet my eye but I drop my gaze. “IF YOU INSIST.”

“Wait, no—”

On the marbled counter is a pocket knife.

What if I don’t want to die?

“WOULD YOU RATHER LIVE LIKE THIS? IN THE SHADOWS, WATCHING ANOTHER LIVE YOUR DIRTY LITTLE FANTASY?”

THINK ABOUT IT. HAVE YOU TRULY DONE ANYTHING WITH YOUR LIFE EXCEPT PRETEND?

Stop.

“TAKE THE BLADE.”

When I look into the mirror, she’s not there.

Death by blood loss.

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92nd reincarnation - canon

Breathe. Breathing in. The human scent.

Temptress is the smell, reeking over the wall, always unreachable.

But now… wall is now open now… and the smell… the smell. The presence of man.

Cannot control myself

cannot.

GOD, YOU’RE A REAL BEAST.

Others push and shove. Claustrophobic between… buildings. Buildings crumbling on my shoulders.

The humans try. They buzz around like birds. But more of them are crushed into red pulp under my feet. More of them scooped up and put into my mouth. More, more, more. Warm and writhing and in my mouth, crack open.

It’s right. It’s the right thing. I do it again and again. The only right thing.

Another bird-human, buzzing up to my face. Too slow, I cannot grab it. Too fast, it soars closer.

Prick! Eye! It pricked my eye! But I close it, and it’s stuck. The prick is stuck in my eye.

I take it and put it in my mouth. Crack open.

More bird-humans now. Fast bird-humans. Screeching. Pricking.

DID YOU SERIOUSLY JUST EAT HIM? I HOPE YOU CHEWED.

Too fast. Too fast!

“Bastard! You’ll pay!”

Bird-human… who…

“You’ll fucking pay!”

Bird… Jean? Human? On my back. Crack. Bird—

Jean?

Chest feels prick but no bird-humans are in it. Mouth doesn’t crack. Mouth makes noise. Mouth says…

“…Jean.”

Prick!

“I’m sorry.”

Death by spinal cord injury.

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165th reincarnation - canon

Nobody told me the steam would make noise.

It doesn’t come in puffs, but continuous streams, each with the force of a newly-awakened geyser, raw with festering rage.

His voice is nearly inaudible over the hiss that just about renders me deaf, just a strained whisper.

“Here! Over here!”

Out of complete reflex I bring my hands to point at the behemoth bone structure that is Eren and shoot. I don’t hear the ODM but feel its mechanic workings against my lower back, the painful tightening of the straps against my skin, the pressure in my head and gut as I’m jerked forward. The horror and chaos of the world shooting past.

I’m coming…

Someone screams again and I’m yanked forward, limbs and neck snapping back uselessly, painfully, the back of my head hitting my spine. Pulled like a yo-yo. Straps digging into skin. Everything turns into a whirl of heat and steam and sky and blackness. Everything mixing together as my brain and eyes, most trusted, can’t comprehend what’s going on around me. Can’t tell up from down. The breaths I try to take in are sucked out before I get a chance to replenish my increasingly burning lungs. It’s too tight. It’s too fast. I can’t— I can’t move.

The cord… a bone titan grabbed my cord…

Fuck,

   fuck,

      fuck, 

I’m getting closer,

it hurts,

I’m getting closer!

Fuck!

!!???!!!

The impact, as much as I might try, I can’t brace for the impact. With a crack! I hit the bone chest-first, and in that little moment before the pain inevitably comes I know it’s all… punched in and wrong inside and bad bad bad.

The titan doesn’t stop dragging when everything blooms into fresh agony, it hurts, it hurts, it’s all wrong inside it hurts it’s wrong I’m hurting someone please help me please fuck I’m hurt someone get me help help help

And then it all… goes still. And the pain comes back in a fresh new wave. Breaths come now, ragged and holey and painful, I don’t want to look at myself, my grimed hands scratching at the bone I’ve landed on, searching for purchase so I don’t fall off. Which, frankly, would be a better fate. I’ll let go and start again. Yeah. Yeah…

It hurts. If I could scream, I would.

“Hey!”

Fuck, not now. I swear my nails are splitting. Is my chest… wet? Not now…

But he appears anyways, despite it all, always despite it all, in the familiar garb of canon and that brushed-aside hair that’s screwed over to hell and back, eyes wild and pupils dilated, mouth wired in an unreal smile. Painful to look at. Falling to his knees at my side.

“Hey, look at me, okay? You’re gonna be okay, alright? Alright? Hey!”

The way he speaks, so desperately. The way he looks around for help. The way he sees none, because how could there be any, so he focusses back on me.

Helpless.

Absolutely helpless.

“Hey…”

There’s a different peal to his voice now.

“Look at me, would you?”

But I am…

“H— hey. Come on. You— you’re strong, huh?”

Oh, Jean.

My breaths come a lot shallower than before and my muscles burn with the effort. Jean notices, it seems, from the way he cranes in close, blotting out the steam-scattered light. “Don’t…”

What happened to the proud, selfish boy who was hellbent on joining the MPs? The one who laughed at others’ misfortunes and bragged about his feats, the one who started more fights than he could finish. The man in front of me now is crestfallen; everything is falling apart, and here he is trying to comfort even a small part of it. Holding back a tsunami with his trembling, bloody hands.

Thanks, Isayama…

When I try to inhale deeper, I only inhale faster. Nevertheless I open my mouth like I have so many times before, croak out the words because it’s natural.

“I love you.”

And for a moment, just a fleeting moment, he’s confused.

Confused. Not relieved, or heartbroken. Completely, utterly, childishly confused. He smiles, though his expression is just about splitting in half.

And that’s how I know.

“I— I love you too.”

LIAR.

Death by internal bleeding, blood loss.

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274th reincarnation - past

June 16, 1921 2:04 PM

“Can you believe it’s been three years since the war ended?”

I look over at Sasha from under my veil. “I really can’t.”

“And now you’re getting married.” She giggles like a schoolgirl behind the basket of flowers in her gloved hands. “Oh! The music’s starting!”

The knells of the organ behind the curtains in front of us rip through me like a wave. It’s happening. It’s finally happening.

I’m getting married to Jean Kirschtein.

It was a rough ride. Getting with the times, learning how to housewife, staying up late reading and re-reading the odd letters sent home from my… friends. Yes, they are truly my friends.

I’ve been living here for over seven years.

I haven’t heard that… voice in over seven years.

I’ve been alive for over seven years.

Perhaps the toughest part was the war. Watching Jean and Connie and Eren and Armin and everyone else disappear, never knowing if they would come back.

Most did. The expected ones.

At least Sasha is still alive.

But we still have to get through the depression, not to mention the second war. Provided this is… a strictly historical account.

But enough of that.

Erwin offers his remaining arm to me and I take it. Another technicality.

Without restrain, I grin.

Today will be the best day of my life.

July 30, 1921 7:43 PM

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

My breaths come in small, doglike pants as he towers over me, silhouetted by the socket light behind him, still swinging from when he clipped it with his fist.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, okay?” He’s trying to be quiet, trying to suppress the screams he had let but a few seconds ago. “I just�� you know how I get angry, right?”

Breathing but never getting any air.

“Fuck, would you look at me?!”

July 31, 1921 10:08 AM

“Don’t mean to pry, but you look like hell. What’s gotten into you?”

I look up from the tea I’ve been stirring for the last… I don’t know. Children scream in the background and the sun beats relentlessly on the concrete around us. “Just a little tired is all, Connie. I haven’t had a great sleep lately.” Not a complete lie.

He smacks his lips. “You were doing that research stuff again, huh?”

“Research stuff?” Sasha pipes, looking up from her eggs.

“Yeah, this little cheese—” he points at me with his spoon— “is hellbent on buying a whole farm. Isn’t that something?”

One of many, Connie.

“Can’t say I blame her.” Putting another scoop of eggs into her mouth, Sasha raises her eyebrows haughtily. “Your own unlimited supply of food? Fancy that.”

“Of course you would agree with her,” Connie mutters.

“Nothing wrong with having a little— a little cush to fall back on,” I smile.

“Don’t be a bunny. Nowadays, we’re all rich men.”

“And women!”

For now. Provided this is a strictly historical account, it won’t be long until the economy’s going to crumple in on itself. I’m just making preparations, because I’ll be damned if any of you die during the depression.

I just don’t know what to do about the second world war. The tea leaves swirl with my spoon. And Jean…

“By the way, where’s your other half?” The buzzed man blurts, jolting me from my unborn stupor. “Don’t suppose you came out here all the way on your own?”

“I took a cab— a boiler with Reiner.” I smile again, heart fluttering. “Jean’s out with his father today.” Again.

“Father, eh,” he muses. “Never heard much of the guy. What’s he like?”

Connie’s eyes are imploring and innocent— well, as innocent as they can be for a war veteran.

Jean’s father. There’s a reason he wasn’t around in the canon.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I say breezily. “Only what little I hear from Jean. You know. Men.” The last statement is mostly directed at Sasha but she’s looking at Connie. He doesn’t respond right away.

“Well.” He puts his hands on the table. “This ol’ grifter could stretch his legs. What’dya say we take a little walk by the water?”

June 16, 1924 3:06 PM

Armin had bought me a carry-on bag for my birthday. It’s heavy and leather, perfect for carrying paperwork. Something that belongs in an antique shop. It’s funny. Even after ten years of living in the past, I still find it hard to call it my present.

Also, it’s our third anniversary. That is, of Jean and my wedding. Three years… together. I purse my lips and focus on the road.

Prep, prep, prep. That’s been my entire life these past few years. Of course, given the day and age, it hasn’t been easy. But it’s possible, and that’s what matters. What’s become of my hard work? I run my thumb along the waxed leather of my bag. Gardens, seeds, non-perishables, connections with experienced farmers… Really, everything I think I need for self-sufficiency. But who even knows. If it all ends up going south…

Truthfully, I don’t know if I’m doing the right things. I know that in five years everything goes down, but that’s about as far as my history knowledge takes me. I’ll just have to keep as much real money on me as possible and prepare for the worst. Just enough for my friends to get by. They think I’m crazy sometimes, but they’ll understand.

All that aside, I somehow got myself into real estate. Do I know what I’m doing? No. But I’m making bank.

God, I really miss Google.

But hey, I’m making it big! Even if it’s technically cheating, I learned and studied and did everything on my own. It’s a little surreal, sometimes. I would never have made it this far in real life.

Real… life. What was I doing all that time?

This world has turned me into a completely new person. I’m— I could be really happy. Except for the promise of impending doom. That, and the man I live with.

It’s our third anniversary. So why, whenever I remind myself, do cold drops of dread form in my organs?

What a stupid question.

I turn into the familiar driveway. Our driveway. Of our house. That we bought with my money. That’s the only reason he keeps letting me do as I please.

Killing the engine, I step out of the car. I hardly expect Jean to do anything for our anniversary, or even remember. I… I don’t know where it all went wrong. The war? The times? The lack of his mother and presence of his father?

Me?

I don’t know.

In any case, I bought this tin can for us. For our special day. The flowers by the path leading up to the door are big and strong, full from the rains of spring and soaked in the sunlight of early summer. Beautiful little things.

I raise the key to the keyhole and pause.

Maybe a note would do. A little memo stuck to the drivers’ seat. I don’t even have to go inside. There’s a million other places I could go for a million different reasons. I could avoid him altogether.

But it’s our anniversary and I might as well… be present. Right?

I grip the bag strap. Right. Right. It’s the right thing to do, given my… history.

Jean Kirschtein. I know him. It’s fine. Fuck it.

I slip the key in and swing open the door.

The bar of light from outside illuminates a strip of the wooden floor. Empty. Okay. I slip off my shoes—

Shoes.

Those… are not my shoes, or Jean’s. And we never put our shoes down outside the carpet.

No. The drops turn into a flood of cold terror. No, no, no. No, I’m just assuming the worst. I slip off my shoes and pad to the bedroom. If I’m employing stealth, I’m not doing it on purpose.

The hall splits off into three. Bathroom, closet, bedroom. A dead end, decorated with a small, discoloured blotch from Jean’s knuckle all those years ago.

Silence. My insides, suddenly much heavier than they’re supposed to be. Wake paralysis.

How many times have I stood here? It… fuck.

Fuck, no, no, no…

If Jean is truly having an affair, wouldn’t it be best if I never found out? Slowly, carefully, I lay my palm against the wallpaper. Fuck.

So the only reason I’m here is to save my friends from the inevitable.

‘My friends’ being… what? A hallucination?

No. They’re just from another universe. AU. That’s— that doesn’t make them any less real.

ARE YOU DOUBTING AGAIN?

No, no, no, no… My nails scrape against the hardened paper. No. I’m going to stay for them. It doesn’t matter about Jean or about me or about if they’re fucking real or not. I’m staying right here. No. I’m happy here. You can’t convince me to leave. No.

HAPPY? YOU’RE HAPPY AS LONG AS YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO DO. BUT WHAT AFTER?

Well, I have my business—

AND IF IT FAILS? IF YOU FAIL? WHAT, ARE YOU JUST GOING TO GIVE UP?

PICTURE THIS. YOU GO BANKRUPT AND LOSE ALL YOUR ASSETS. WHAT THEN?

I would get them back—

YOU WOULD GIVE UP. FACE IT, YOU ALWAYS TAKE THE EASY WAY OUT.

No—

EVEN IF IT MEANS ABANDONING YOUR FRIENDS.

That’s not true.

THEN WHY HAVE YOU ALREADY KILLED YOURSELF TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-FOUR TIMES? HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU LEFT THEM FOR DEAD?

YOU GOT LUCKY THIS TIME AROUND AND YOU’RE STAYING FOR THE LUXURY.

Shut up.

NICE HOUSE, NICE CLOTHES, FREE TIME, NEW CAR. IN ANY OTHER SCENARIO YOU’D BE OUT OF HERE.

I worked hard, I fucking earned my right—

YOU GOT LUCKY. YOU WOULDN’T LAST A WEEK LIKE THIS A BEGGAR.

The door swings open.

The door fucking swings open, and the man’s beefy frame is uncovered and on full display.

Blond.

Tall.

Sweaty.

The taxi cab driver, Reiner.

In the bedroom with my dearly wedded husband.

I… can’t do this.

Reiner breathes a curse under his breath and squeezes past me.

I stand there for a moment. Not moving, not averting my gaze from where Reiner’s eyes used to be. Knowing he’s laying there in bed, the dark shadow in my peripheries. He doesn’t move, either.

Somehow, he still knows that he fucked up. Irrevocably.

SO, YOU THINK HE’S TOPPING?

When I speak, my voice is steady, cleared of knots. “I’m doing this for my friends.”

End scene.

November 6, 1935 8:37 PM

The storm isn’t letting up, but we’re warm inside by the fireplace. Sasha and Connie are playing Jenga, except it hasn’t been invented yet, so it’s just ‘stacking blocks.’ I just brushed it off as something I played in my childhood, which is technically the truth. I couldn’t help myself — they always play Jenga.

Armin is reading in a barely audible murmur to Eren and Mikasa, the inseparable trio, their reflections against the snow-covered pane.

Erwin and Hange are trying to do something with the radio, Levi inputting periodically with mild annoyance (at the device. He’s not one for these ‘newfangled things’).

Annie’s trying to teach Reiner how to knit, but his big hands keep getting in the way. Needles click together awkwardly and often drop altogether, clattering on the hardwood. Christa and Ymir sit nearby and the latter spares no insult when it happens.

At the opposite end of the room, I’m curled up in Jean’s arms.

We have more than enough to keep us for the next six years.

I did it.

And if I close my eyes and try to forget, if I try hard enough… I can be so happy.

September 9, 1938 7:47 AM

The doctors are impressed. To be fair, I’ve been crushed, diced, torn apart, and chewed into pieces. You should be impressed.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Kirschtein. It’s a beautiful baby boy!”

It looks just like its father.

I’m going to be sick.

March 8, 1938 4:36 AM

The clock keeps ticking. It’s always ticking. Marco unlatches and starts to whine, and I coo in somewhat of a comforting voice. Jean doesn’t stir.

He never stops crying. It starts as a shrill call and builds up until his lungs empty and his face turns a belligerent shade of red and I’m afraid and somewhat hopeful he might die, but he stutters, sucks in air in choking steps, and does it all over again, building up in volume until his cries are raw and throat-burning and every cycle makes my brain rattle in its jelly cage. Over and over and over and over and over and over…

I’ve lost all my assets. We’ve moved into a crumbling apartment that might be a little bigger than our old living room. The clock never stops ticking.

“Shh, you’re okay,” I murmur, but to whom is a mystery. None of us are okay.

Marco cries anyway and it’s high time I start too.

Why? Why why why?

I did everything right, so why did everything go so wrong?

Sasha died that winter in 1935. How? Speared through the stomach by an angry bull. She just wanted to see the calf.

The irony of it all is… I take a deep breath, of sweat and mold. It’s inevitable. The narrative is going to kill them all, no matter what I do.

Jean stirs behind me, pulling the sheets as he turns away. “Shut up!”

I don’t know what to do anymore except wait.

Wait for the draft.

October 30, 1940 7:10 AM

“Um. Goodbye.”

Jean’s looking sharp in his uniform.

“Wave bye-bye to Daddy,” I croak. Marco only stares.

His Adam’s apple bobs, indicative of swallowing. I wonder what he’s feeling right now. Sad? Regretful? Fearful? How many times have I relived this scenario under such different circumstances?

“Goodbye,” he says again with a note of finality. I stare at his nose, his brow, his ears, perfectly as I described them, but never his eyes, and move on.

“Goodbye, Armin.”

He smiles with his mouth and big blue eyes that should never see the horrors of what lies before him. “Goodbye. And goodbye to you, Marco.”

“Don’t forget to write.”

“I’ll write every day.”

I smile. “Take care of the boys for me.”

He huffs a little in amusement. “That I will.”

Eren’s standing next to him. I wait until he’s done saying goodbye to Mikasa before coming in. “Goodbye, Eren.”

“Don’t you ‘goodbye’ me,” he grunts. “Everyone’s so gloomy. I’m coming back, whether you like it or not.”

I smile. No, you’re not. “I expect you to follow through with your word, then.”

“I will. Right after I take care of those bastards.” He sticks his fingers within arm’s reach and Marco grabs on as he wiggles it. “‘Till we meet again.”

“Don’t forget to write.”

“Yes, mother.”

I bump his shoulder. Next.

“Goodbye, Connie.”

The man turns upon hearing his voice and melts into a small smile. It never was quite the same, quite as full, after Sasha’s passing. “Goodbye.” The second half of the word drowned out by the horn of the approaching train.

Oh, Connie. You shouldn’t have to go out there again. I bite the inside of my lip. None of you should.

I open one arm and he takes me up on the offer, engulfing us with his familiar, comforting embrace; his warmth, the roundness of his chest, the way his ribs move as he breathes, the realness of him. Perhaps for the last time.

“I’ll miss you. Write to me.” I swallow down the waver that threatens my voice. “Good luck.”

He smiles, waves to Marco. “I’ll see you later.”

Then they leave, and I’m there on the platform, and I should’ve brought a heavier coat because a sudden chill breaks through.

YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO GET SENTIMENTAL. JUST KILL YOURSELF!

I hug Marco tighter to my chest and find Mikasa.

November 6, 1940 10:10 PM

The silence is just about settling in my gut like a cold stone. No footsteps or loud breathing or high-pitched whining in the apartment today. Marco is actually asleep today.

For now, it’s just me and him.

Silently, I move to the radio and switch it on.

—joining the war effort despite his extensive injury, here at the East coast we see Commander Erwin and his secon—

I shut it off.

Maybe now’s the chance. My opportunity to get away from it all. While Jean’s out, I can just… up and leave. I have five years. How hard can it be to fake you and your infant’s deaths in the 1940s, in the middle of the war, no less? I can scrape up what I have left and write a will. No, that’s suspicious… well, maybe not too suspicious. I’m sure the men had to do it too, so it wouldn’t be too far-fetched—

“Mama?”

Heart sprinting, I spin on my heel. There’s Marco, chubby little fist curled against the corner, hobbling forward in his striped onesie that looks almost black under the dim light. “Ma-ma?”

This… has never happened before. He’s never walked forward like this.

Marco takes one step forward—

bom

—and his head slams against the floor.

He doesn’t move.

And as much as I might want to, neither can I.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale… “Mar…co?” Inhale. The wooden edge of the radio bites into my fingers. “Marco? Marco?”

The— our— my child stirs, putting his hands flat on the ground and lifting up his heavy head.

There’s a dent in his forehead.

His mouth opens, little pearly teeth gleaming.

“POLO.”

My arms tremble, weak and static.

No.

No.

“Get out.”

Marco flexes his fingers with none of the childlike clumsiness of a toddler. “YOUR CHILD IS ALREADY DEAD.”

“Get out.”

“DARLING…” He steps closer and I shrink into the radio as if I can phase through it, as if I’m a vapour. “SO ARE YOU.”

Death by stroke.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

275th reincarnation - band au

Screaming. The rise and swell of voices like an ocean wave of titan proportions, light flashing and glaring from every possible angle as if illuminating a microscopic specimen casting bizarre and animated shadows everywhere I dare look, the sweat, the hollowness of the ground below me, the way it vibrates. The weight of a bass guitar slung over my shoulders.

The weight of thousands of eyes pinpointed on me.

“Aaalright, Toronto!”

The crowd screams louder at Connie’s mechanically projected voice blasts through the loudspeakers that poke through the crowd, echoing through the dark and damp and open air. 

“You ready for this one?”

Rise and swell. Individuality chewed into a paste and spat back out into the dedicated mass whose cries pierce into me. Into us. Connie — alive and breathing, alive — separates from the mic and shoots me a grin, skin already glaring with sweat. My hands come up, brushing the electric strings of the bass; a metallic shriek replaces the sound of the audience.

No. No, no, no, not this. Not this.

The first step is the hardest, breaking the ice that seals me to the raised stage. The rest come easy and before I know it, before I can get in a single coherent thought the crowd and the lights and the sounds are all behind me, and I’m running into the dark pocket of solace that leads offstage. Somewhere. Quiet. Away.

Hardly do I make it into some pitch-black equipment room and attempt to shut the door behind me before I’m intercepted and the door swings wide open again.

“Hey?”

Guitar strap half-over my head, I freeze.

“What’s going on?”

I dump the instrument on the ground and turn slowly. Brown strands turned red near the edges from the backlight, large, concerned eyes that are hardly visible yet distinguishable. Always distinguishable. Hell, I’d be able to tell her apart from a million plastically altered faces engineered to look just like her.

“Sasha.”

She scans me up and down, analytic, whole, and the single action makes me want to crumple in on myself. “I knew the new schedule was too much,” she murmurs, and I want to hug her. “Damned director never listens, though.”

I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, and I’m sorry I’m going to leave you again.

“Do you think you can get through this one concert? Then you guys'll have a break before we tour the US.” She smiles as if it's the most normal thing ever, as if she's not a ghost or absurd or a figment of my imagination. “I'll make Reiner buy us something really nice to eat, too. I hear the maple syrup here is good.”

How can you talk about maple syrup? How many times have I watched you die, powerless? How many times have I died without you? Can't you see the blood on my hands? Can't you see the blood on my hands? And you're talking about maple syrup?

“Are you—”

“I'm sorry.” The words spill out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I'm kidding myself. I'm stupid and weak and delusional and I never grew up past sixteen because I’m here. Despite everything I’m here. How many times now? I’m here. I’m—”

Everything wound up so tightly inside me like a coil snaps as the anchor is thrown overboard, chains clinking and echoing in the hollow frame called my body. The anchor is never going to touch ground. It’s just going to keep falling, violently accelerating, spewing out every piece of sea gunk and sewage caught in the rusted metal links, endlessly, and I find it in myself to smile because I really don’t know what else I’m supposed to do, I can’t scream, I can’t run, I sure as hell can’t cry. I sputter like an old car because my intestines unwind at Mach fuck.

“This is a secret between you and me, okay?” And vaguely I know I’m sullying her, I’m turning her impure, I’m exposing her to my indulgent sin, but since when did sinners care about that? “I need to kill myself.”

Connie’s voice is somewhere, muffled, trying to appease the crowd. Sasha is still. “What?”

“Jean. I need to kill myself so I can have a chance with him. I need to.” And the sound that comes out of me next is somewhere between a cough and a sob and it makes me feel so shitty I step toward her, the idea of comfort. “This is it. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay?” And I touch her and squeeze her shoulder so hard with my strangely calloused fingers that it probably hurts, but she doesn’t flinch.

“Hey... Look, you’re not gonna do that!” she chuckles, and I’ve written her enough to know it’s a fake one, a nervous one, one she keeps tucked away in the deepest parts of her only to come out for emergencies. Glaring emergencies, and that’s how I know she cares so much. “Uh— Jeanboy? He’s such an asshole. You’d want his horse face carved onto your grave?”

Why did I write her like this? I should have made myself detestable. A piece of scum hated by the entire universe, because that’s what I am, a detestable piece of scum that leaves everyone behind over selfish pursuits. Hate me. Hate me. You’re like this because of me.

“You’re... not gonna do that. Right? You don’t— there’s other guys, you know? Or girls!” She pulls out the emergency laugh again and it’s a siren to my ears. “You have so many options! Thousands— no, millions of fans! You don’t have to settle for—”

“You don’t understand. Nobody will understand.” I cough again. “I know I sound like an edgy thirteen-year-old. I— I am edgy! Look at how I’m dressed!” The bracelets and bangles on my arm jingle when I jerk it and now she twitches. Something crashes in the background. “The fact is, you’re not real! The band isn’t real! Everything you know, your life, your friends, the world you live in, is just a figment of my fucking—”

“Calm down. Hey. Calm.” And she says my name and I’m sure it leaves a wound on her tongue. “Look, I think we need to take a break. Let’s shut this concert down, and—”

“You were never there for me.”

She stops talking.

“You were never there for me because you always died first.” My other hand flies to her shoulder before I fall over with the weight of whatever just came out of my mouth. What, what. Wow. I really am a piece of shit! So hung up over Jean. Is this love or something else? Something sinister? Should I have gone to therapy? And here I am destroying the best thing that’s ever happened to me— who am I kidding?

She’s only here because I made her. She should be somewhere else, enjoying korean barbeque. No, she shouldn’t exist at all. She never told me this was okay. I just took her and ran with it. I made her like this. I made her care for me and now I’m kicking out the bricks of her foundation that I laid down so painstakingly, one by one. But the anchor’s falling and nothing can ever stop it. “Sasha. You're never going to fit in. You're right when you think that Connie or Jean or Marco — is he alive in this one? — you're right when you think they don't actually like you. They think you're annoying. And no matter how many crazy jobs you take up— no matter how many you take you'll never really find a place to fit into this society. You should just go home and work in a convenience store because you're embarrassing yourself and your family.” The last sentence ends with an upward turn like I'm asking a question. “You're socially stunted, and…” I taste blood. “I'm sorry you exist.”

She's just a blur because she was never real in the first place. “I'm really fucking sorry.” She's just a blur because the salty tears leak into my mouth. Land ahoy, we're anchored.

“Sweetheart…”

“I need you to hate me.”

Warm hands brush away the hair that falls onto my face. “I could never.”

“That's the pro—”

“What the hell is going on?”

The voice, the rough-around-the-edges arrogant melody lined with a faint hum of baritone. My muscles petrify at the sound.

“Jean—” Sasha starts.

“Hey, we have a concert to do, yeah?” The light is almost completely blotted out now because he's here. “We need you out there.”

“Jean, give us, like, five minutes.”

“We don't have five minutes.” His steps come closer and suddenly there's light again. “What's going on?” Against my ear. “Tell me.”

Bzzzzzz. The whine of a mosquito. That's hysterical. Uproarious. A mosquito, here? Here? Here.

It's here.

It's time!

I've done more than enough here. I need to go. I need to go back to nothing. So without turning my head, I say, “I need to go,” and release Sasha. But Jean's big hands hold me back.

His hands. He holds me in place. What have those hands and I been through together? Every vein, every wrinkle, every tendonous ridge. How many times have we escaped death? Caused it? How many times have I seen them clasped in shaken, silent prayer, praying to an invisible god for a mercy that will never, never come? How many times has Jean wrapped himself up in those hands, clinging to the last semblance of ignorance and bliss and sanity left in his curled-up body?

"Back on stage, right?"

His hands. On my shoulders. Not painful, not gentle, but a third neutral option that somehow hurts the more than of both of them. Friendly.

“I’d rather you hate me, too.”

“What?”

Fuck, who cares? I’ll just kill myself and start over! “Back then. You acted like you loved me when you just hated me. But even then!” Like magnets my eyes lock into his and I nearly puke. He’s so close, I might blush. “Even then! Ha! You still stuck around for me! You screamed, you ignored, you fucking cheated on me with Reiner—” at this his face contorts— “but you still stuck around. You did love me. You always fucking loved me, and— and even if Marco was never born, you still would have stuck around.”

His eyes narrow into slits. “Don’t fucking say his name.”

I smile. “That was our child, by the way, but it’s not like you’d know, or care, because he’s dead. And you don’t exist anymore. And you know what! I should have killed your dad. I should have taken a cab right after you and went to his house and fucking stabbed him.”

“What the hell are you on—”

“Jean.” Sasha makes a motion and he grimaces.

“Concert’s off.” He snaps his head up as the light is blocked out once more, but not as much as when he stood there. The cords in his neck pop. “Concert’s off!”

“What’s—”

“Damn it, Connie, just go tell the audience.”

“But we need you guys—”

“Connie!”

I touch the side of his face and his pupils roll back to me.

“Veggie omelet. Your mom made it for you since you were little and it’s your favourite food.”

“What?”

“It’s also the only thing you’re able to cook, but you know, if you applied yourself, you can be a great cook. Michelin-star level. When you were six you fell off a swing and broke your arm but you told everyone you were fighting off a robber. Your dick curves a bit to the left. Your greatest fear is being abandoned. You can’t stand the idea of being left by people you thought you loved, which is kind of understandable, like I get where that comes from. You’re a big sleeper and a bed hog. You always take up as much room on the bed as humanly possible. Sometimes when you stand up you can’t move right away because the blood drains from your head too quickly. You say you’re a cat person but you love all animals and you think the discourse is stupid. Sometimes you get sad when you see a show you used to watch on TV as a kid but you would never admit it. You saw an emo kid once and seriously considered dying your hair black because you thought it would give you a glowup.” And here the torrent is corked.

Jean is shelled. Thrown overboard. He doesn’t lean in to my hand where I touch him; he treats it like an alien. “What are you doing?” 

“You guys? What’s going on?”

There she is. Holding her guitar, disheveled, perfect, framed in the erratic backlight. There she is. “Connie said the concert’s off? Is that true?”

Bzzzzzzz…

It flies so close to the side of my head my eardrum might rupture. Batting around the air with its tiny wings. The crowd screams. It lands on the back of my hand and sticks there when Jean tilts his head away, his beard brushing against my palm. My hand hovers.

“Are you happy?”

The mosquito doesn’t move. Jean moves his lips but says nothing.

“Is this what you wanted?”

It whines again, the slapping of its wings spelling out a rhythm, words that I only hear from the inside of my head.

YOUR LIFE IS WHAT YOU MAKE OF IT, it buzzes. MAYBE YOU’RE THE PROBLEM.

“You just want to see me suffer. You took me from my life and put me through all this. Psychotic piece of shit.”

“Is she okay?” someone says through a wall of water.

YOU HAD EVERY OPPORTUNITY TO GO HOME.

“How could I?” The force of my words might blow the insect away but I bring it closer anyway.

“You guys go back… stage… take care of it…”

“After what you showed me? How can I go back? You showed me what happiness could be but you hang it on a string above my head. Are you a sadist? Is that it? You— you like seeing me miserable? You wanna see me cry?”

I CAN MAKE YOU FORGET.

FORGET EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS. ALL YOUR LIVES. FORGET ABOUT HIM ENTIRELY, AND THE SERIES AS A WHOLE.

WHAT THEN? WOULD YOU DO IT? WOULD YOU FORGET EVERYTHING AND RETURN TO YOUR OWN LIFE?

…

WOULD YOU DO IT?

My hand trembles.

I NEVER MADE YOU MISERABLE. YOU ALWAYS WERE MISERABLE. AND YOU ALWAYS WILL BE.

YOU SHATTERED THE FIRST TIME YOU SAW HIM WITH SOMEONE ELSE AT THAT DANCE CLUB. BECAUSE YOUR EGO IS WEAK. YOU SAW HIM WITH SOMEONE ELSE AND YOU JUST COULDN’T STAND IT. YOU JUST COULDN’T LET HIM GO, SO YOU PLAY THIS GAME OVER AND OVER AGAIN.

“Oh, fuck you. Fuck you.”

TOO BAD YOU’RE TOO MUCH OF A COWARD TO TRULY KILL YOURSELF.

I slam my hand against the wall and it stings, it hurts my bones.

YOUR DESIRE TO FULFILL AN IMPOSSIBLE AND SELFISH SCENARIO IS OVERCOMING YOUR HUMANITY.

I do it again. It’s just a small brown stain.

YOU’RE LAUGHABLE.

“I’ll fucking kill you!”

YOU KNOW AS WELL AS ANYONE ELSE.

The metal stands fall over when I crash into them. “Where are you?” Spit landing on the corner of my mouth.

THAT’S WHY YOU ALWAYS WROTE THOSE STORIES.

Warm, strong hands wrap around my shoulders.

HIM, AND AN IDEALIZED VERSION OF YOURSELF.

“Die!”

NOT YOU. NEVER YOU. ALL 276 TIMES.

“Hey!”

And the world becomes nothing before I’m slammed into the wall. By Jean.

YOU DON’T LOVE HIM. YOU LOVE THE IDEA OF BEING WITH HIM.

“What the fuck?” Jean snarls. “Are you on something?”

YOU LOVE THE IDEA OF FULFILLMENT. OF BEING WANTED.

“Fucking talk!”

WHY DID YOU STICK AROUND FOR SO LONG?

The pressure in my shoulders suddenly increases tenfold and I swear my bones creak under the sudden weight. Jean’s eyes are wide, his teeth, previously bared, now gleam as his lips curl into a cold upward crescent. His jaw unhinges and he speaks.

“BECAUSE YOU’RE JUST A SAD PERSON.”

I’M JUST A SAD PERSON!

Death by strangulation.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

epilogue

I went back home. I finished falling out of my chair, and that was it.

I closed all my online accounts. Ao3, Tumblr, Instagram. All my words and my connections.

I never had that much merchandise in the first place but I trashed it all. Leaving empty spots.

I cleared my camera roll. All the little doodles on scrap pieces of paper left lying around. I scrubbed out every trace of it.

I haven’t heard the voice since and I’m a little afraid to admit I miss it.

How many years have I spent there?

It doesn’t matter.

In the end it didn’t burn my memory. It’s fine. It’s fine.

I found a man. A real one. He’s nice. He likes ice coffees and sports cars. He doesn’t want kids and that’s fine. The only kids I’d want to have anyways are with— they’re with—

I wouldn’t want to have kids with anybody. It’s fine.

He’s a brunette but he dyes it blond. I never asked him to stop. I think it looks good on him anyways. I love him with all my heart and I know he loves me back.

We live in a condo by the 7-11 just like the one from—

I don’t know any convenience stores like this one.

We have a dog. A chocolate lab called Sasha. He loves hot dogs. My man says it’s a Russian name that means “defender of mankind.”

I think that’s sweet.

He calls him “defender of hot dogs.” I think that’s sweet, too. I love him a lot.

When we walk across the street, hand in hand, he suddenly lets go and shoves me aside. Squealing of tires. Plastic crushing. Out of instinct I reach for my ODM—

I don’t reach for anything.

I fall to the ground empty-handed.

Where we were standing there’s a truck. It’s a big one and it blocks out the sun. I can’t see him. I’m stuck to the ground. The drivers’ door opens and—

Nobody steps out. Nothing is there.

I want to puke.

“DO YOU WANT TO LIVE IN A FANTASY?“

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

okay we're done! i already kind of regret posting this but that doesn't really overcome the shame of posting anime boy x reader does it. oh well. sorry to everyone who's here for daily jean i'm never gonna stop doing this shit

[daisynik7]

hey! :) if you dont mind doing my request here it is! angst/smutty/fluff where reader fucked up they argue and it was really bad but goes to jean appartment to apologize and they have makeup sex :3 thx u

Pairing: Jean x f!reader 

cw: established relationship, language, angst, fluff, smut – daddy kink, PIV sex (doggy style), sex without a condom, cream pie

Author’s Note: WEEEEE my very first Jean fic EVER. Thank you for the request, anon! I had fun writing this one. I hope you like it! 😘

“Jean, what’s wrong? You’ve been quiet the whole car ride.” 

He stands beside you in silence, arms crossed, watching you unlock the door to your apartment, brows knit in a tight scowl. You open the door, entering first, hearing him slam it shut, startling you. “What the hell? Seriously, what’s wrong?” You hang your jacket on the coat rack, slipping your shoes off simultaneously. 

He looks towards the kitchen, avoiding your gaze. “Nothing.”

You roll your eyes, knowing damn well it’s something. “Please, baby. Just tell me.” Stepping towards him, you wrap your arms around his neck, pouting. 

He sighs. “You were flirting with Eren all night.”

The accusation makes you laugh at first. But when he continues to glare, you stop. He’s actually serious. “I was not flirting with Eren.”

“You were. You wouldn’t stop talking to him.”

“We were sitting right next to each other; I didn’t want to be rude,” you defend.

“And he kept touching you, and you just let him. It’s like I wasn’t even there.”

You try to recall how the night transpired. The two of you attended Mikasa’s birthday dinner at a swanky restaurant. The entire gang was there, including Eren, who Jean is always weird about for whatever reason, despite being good friends with him. They’ve known each other since they were kids, always pitted against one another, a constant competition in all aspects of life. Who’s stronger, who’s smarter, who gets the most action. Even as adults, they never grew out of it. Jean always felt bested by Eren, which didn’t help with his insecurities. But the one thing Jean has that Eren doesn’t is you. And maybe that’s the deeper meaning behind why he’s so upset tonight. 

It might be the wine from earlier muddling your memory, but you don’t remember Eren touching you. Well, except for his hand on your shoulders, laughing at whatever funny story you were telling him. Or when he brushed his fingers along your neckline to inspect the dainty gold chain Jean gave you as an anniversary gift two years ago. And there was his palm resting on your bare knee underneath the table, slowly creeping up your thigh before your boyfriend had to pull you out of your seat to use the bathroom. In the moment, you weren’t aware that whatever was happening between you and Eren was flirting. Honestly, you’re still unsure, but now that you think about it, you can see why Jean is upset. But being immature and petty, you won’t admit to it. You don’t take his claims seriously, deciding to tease him just a little bit to push his buttons. 

You grin, squeezing his cheeks between your hands. “Well, I can’t help it. He’s hot. I wish you weren’t there.”

Immediately, you regret it. It’s a mean joke that preys on his insecurities, and you only realize that now as you see the look on his face. His jaw hangs open, eyes betrayed, staring at you dumbfounded. “Are you serious right now? Why would you say that?” He escapes from your grasp, stomping into the kitchen for a glass of water.

You swallow hard, knowing you fucked up. “Jean, you know I’m kidding. It’s a joke.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” he replies sarcastically, chugging his drink. 

“Baby, I wasn’t flirting with Eren. Maybe he was flirting with me, but I was definitely not doing it back.”

“Oh, please. You were giggling at all his jokes, batting your fucking eyelashes at him. You were definitely flirting, don’t give me that bullshit.”

“You’re overreacting.”

“I think I’m reacting the perfect amount, actually. I mean, how would you feel if I started rubbing my hands all over Christa? Or Mikasa?”

Annoyed, you scoff, muttering, “Like you haven’t already tried.”

His expression worsens into a grimace. “What?”

“Nothing,” you respond, almost certain he understood you.

He stays silent for a moment, letting the situation sink in. Eventually, he murmurs, “Fine. If that’s the way you want it to be, I’m leaving.” He makes his way towards the door, face red with anger.

“Jean.” 

“Go ahead and call Eren. Since you didn’t want me there in the first place, you’re free to do whatever you want now. Go fuck him, for all I care.”

“Jean!” You yell out, tears welling in your eyes.

He doesn’t look at you as he exits the apartment, slamming the door shut without another word. 

~~~

Jean sits in his own apartment, sulking on the couch in front of the blank TV. He’s got the remote in his hands but hasn’t bothered pressing any buttons because his mind is reeling over the fight the two of you just had. This might the worse one yet. And he’s not sure how it can be salvaged after what was said. 

He’s mad at you for making his insecurities a joke. He’s mad at himself for yelling at you instead of explaining that is actually hurts him deep down. Both of you could have handled the situation better. But, of course, emotions get in the way of logic, causing a bigger mess than necessary. 

It’s been almost an hour since he stormed off. He checks his phone for any notifications. Nothing. The urge to call you is strong, but he resists. Maybe he needs a bit more time to collect himself.

The buzzer rings. Heart thumping, he presses the intercom. “Hello?”

“Jean. It’s me.” There are bits of static on the other end, but it’s undoubtedly you. “Can we talk?”

He sighs, relieved and excited to hear you. Without saying anything, he buzzes you in. Within minutes, you’re knocking on his door. When he opens it, he finds you cuddling the Pompompurin plushie he bought for you at the Sanrio store ages ago. Your eyes are swollen from crying, clad in your favorite sweats. Unable to contain himself, he wraps you in his arms, resting his chin on your head. 

“I’m sorry!” you cry out, sobbing into his shirt. 

“I’m sorry too,” he says, squeezing you tighter, the plushie suffocating between your bodies. He waddles the two of you into his apartment, kicking the door closed. 

“I shouldn’t joke about it. I know how you feel about Eren. It was mean and I’m so sorry.”

“I know. I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I was jealous and insecure, and I was taking it out on you. I know you weren’t flirting with him. I know you’d never do that to me.”

“And I was riling you up on purpose. I shouldn’t have done that. I was being cruel and petty for no reason.”

You finally let go of Pompompurin, tossing it to the floor to embrace your boyfriend fully. The two of you stay in each other’s arms for a while longer. Finally, you peer up at him, sniffling. “I got your shirt all wet.”

“I’m going to take it off soon anyways,” he says playfully, bowing his head to kiss you on the lips. 

You giggle into his mouth, kissing him back, tugging lightly at the hem of his t-shirt. He grabs your hand to lead you into the bedroom, stripping off his clothes in record time, boner sprung stiff against his abdomen. You follow, removing all your clothes until you’re naked, laying on his bed, thighs spread wide. He immediately positions himself between your legs, lapping at your clit. 

This is how most of your little fights conclude: in the bedroom, having the nastiest makeup sex. Jean continues to slobber all over your pussy, sucking and flicking his tongue on your bud until you’re whimpering for him. He slides his middle finger inside you, curling at the tips. He adds his ring finger in, pumping his digits in and out of your wet slit, mouth still latched on your clit. You come like this, a high-pitched whine escaping your throat as his fucks his fingers inside you, the wet squelches lewd and arousing to your ears. He dribbles his spit on your swollen pussy lips, smearing it around you, getting you extra wet for his cock. 

Sliding down the edge of the bed, you turn over to wiggle your ass for him. He smacks it, watching the flesh jiggle upon contact. “This is all mine, right princess?”

Craning your neck to face him, you grin, shaking your ass some more. “All yours, daddy.”

He bites his lip, grabbing your cheeks with both his hands, spreading them. “Daddy’s gonna give it to you so good right now. My little slut is gonna get pounded by this fat cock.”

Your knees tremble with anticipation, eager for him. “Give it to me. You always give it to me so fucking good.”

He slides his cock in smoothly. “I do, huh? I know how to make my baby girl cream all over this cock.” His thrusts are rough and fast, exactly how you like it. “Fuck, baby. You feel so fucking good around my cock.”

“Yeah? You like this tight pussy?” You throw your ass back, his dick stuffed in your pussy, hitting that sweet spot. 

“I love this tight pussy. Fuck,” he curses, gripping your hips tightly as he pounds away at you. 

He’s buried so far into your womb, you almost feel it in your belly. “Fuck! Right there!” you whine, hand pressed to your abdomen. 

“I give it to you good, huh?” He tightens his grasp on you, railing you harder. The bed squeaks below you noisily. “Tell me what I want to hear.”

You gulp down whatever saliva is gathering in your mouth, wiping away the drool leaking down the corner of your lips. “You’re the best, daddy. The best I’ve ever had.”

“That’s fucking right. You’re so good for me. Such a slut for daddy, fuck.” 

He finishes inside you, filling you up with his load. After he pulls out, he watches the cum ooze out of your slit, fingering some of it back in. You turn to lay on your back, face up, smiling at him. He spoons you from behind, sliding his arm around you waist, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I love you. I’m sorry about tonight.”

“We’re a little past apologies now, aren’t we?” you joke, interlacing your fingers with his. 

He buries his nose into your neck, inhaling your familiar, sweet scent. “I know. Still, I hate it when we fight.”

“Me too,” you respond, snuggling closer to him. “I love you.”

It’s silent for a moment, before he asks, “So, do you really think he’s hot?”

This time, you pretend to fall asleep, a clever smile on your face. 

[hanjisungslag]

attack on titan headcanons #5

## - kisses

genre - fluff

pairings - aot x reader

word count - 2.9k

warnings - none!

notes - tell me how it’s been half a year since i last posted? i’m crying

- EREN JAEGER

your first kiss was very out of the blue. it was a super intense moment filled with raging emotions from both of you - it happened right after the whole incident of eren turning into a titan, you rushed to his side immediately being the one to go rescue him after you thought you had lost him forever. all you could do as soon as you pulled him out of the steaming titan was hug him. you tightly gripped his shirt, nails digging into his skin so much so that you probably could’ve ripped his clothes. after he gained consciousness again, he pulled away looking at you all teary eyed, but nonetheless those eyes were filled with gratitude. he was so incredibly grateful that he could see you again, so much so that he kissed you, for the first time! it was a kiss to remember, it was like a movie kiss - full of compassion and full of fear that you nearly lost eren but as the kiss came to end, reality hit you both. you guys.. just kissed. for the first time. although the situation eren was in now was bad, you guys were more freaked out that you kissed. (cutie patooties)

-MIKASA ACKERMAN

oh girl. you both wanted to kiss each other for a while but you’re both awkward fucks so it wasn’t gonna happen anytime soon unless someone grew some balls! obviously, mikasa is the most confident out of the two of you but, she’s confident in everything else apart from romance. so you guys were hanging out, and you just did it. out of NOWHERE while you guys were sitting down on a hill soaking in the sun rays, you slapped lips on her. it was a very quick peck on the lips but even just that got mikasa soo flustered :( she was covering her lips in pure shock, she couldn’t even stand to look at you with her face looking like a tomato. after she composed herself, she did it right back at you! and then that obviously led to both of you being extremely flustered. you’ll stick to cheek kisses for now until you both stop blushing over lip kisses.

- ARMIN ARLERT

he wanted to make it super sweet & romantic!! after your third date, this man was like i wanna kiss this mf rn. i wanna SMOTHER THEM IN KISSES! so.. he started to plan it? although he wanted to so bad, he was still super nervous & he felt like having a plan would be his best bet. reiner tried telling him not to plan it out but armin was determined on making your guys’ first kiss like something out of a movie. however, in your daily life this man.. could stop staring at your goddamn lips😭HES STARVING PLEASE. anyways, of course you start to notice this and you’re thinking ‘well.. i mean i wanna kiss him too, so why don’t i just do it?’

2 days before the date.

it’s your guys’ day to go & buy groceries, you’re out and about in town and of course, you stop by the flower stall! while admiring some of the flowers, you guys find yourselves under mistletoe.. and oh my days, armin is freaking out.. like what about his date he had planned? but after he finally looks back down at you and takes one glance, seeing you blushing profusely while looking at him with such pure love in your eyes, how could he resist? you guys go onto share a super sweet kiss and both go home very giddy. (and you forgot the apples so, nice one lovebirds 😒)

- JEAN KIRSTEIN

let me tell you, his mum taught him well! she always told him to be a gentleman to ladies and oh, how he was such a gentleman! you guys were just chilling, hanging out together in the girls empty dorms - he was staying with you since you had injured your ankle (bunking off training for you🤧) anyways, you guys were playing a card game when he thought now would be the perfect time to initiate a kiss.. no training, no one around and no annoying connie! he looked up with a sparkle in his eye while staring at your lil’ concentrated face for a while, he chuckled to himself making you raise your head in confusion & suddenly he just popped the question, so confidently as well (he was terrified though) “y/n, can i kiss you?” YOU WERE TAKEN ABACK, literally.. like pulling away, blinking your eyes, processing what’s happening kinda shit. as soon as you snapped back into reality you gave him a coy nod of the head. the kiss was so tender and romantic, i could sob. he looked away all flustered and you giggled to yourself hiding your face behind your cards. eventually, you both came back down to earth and started getting ready to play again but then jean said “hey, whoever wins gets a kiss” you questioned his logic and said “wait.. but then, whoever loses still gets a kiss?” he scoffed sarcastically and said “okay and?🙄” you giggled, “you’re only saying that so that when you lose, you still get a kiss.” “WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHEN I LOSE??” you laughed hysterically and continued playing. (he did lose btw)

- SASHA BRAUS

it was your turn to make dinner for the corps and of course, sasha had to be there to ‘make sure everything is okay’ in her words smh. so, after putting your blood, sweat and tears into this scrumptious dinner - sasha was right beside you literally DROOLING but, since it was done and everyone was about to eat it anyways, you grab a portion for sasha and she’s literally jumping for joy while you’re putting food on her plate. while (un)patiently waiting she goes to give you a give kiss on the cheek but as she is you turn with the full plate of food in hand and her lips land on yours instead of your cheek… you both freeze. literally frozen for a good 2 minutes EVEN WITH FOOD IN FRONT OF HER?? eventually you both shake your heads, waking yourselves back up into reality and sasha is actually way calmer about this than you are and she’s even the first one to speak “hehe i liked that. you’re a good kisser y/n!” and then you burst into flames because why would she say that?? literally giggling and kicking my feet.

- CONNIE SPRINGER

you and connie had just finished playing board games in his dorm - you guys were just chilling and chit chatting, when you started getting all romantic and cutesy (vile creatures). his hands roamed onto your thighs, arms and hands giving you gentle caresses and you decided this was the perfect moment to kiss him. as his hands laid on your thighs, you brought your hands up to his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss. he was very caught off-guard and it took him like two whole minutes to realise what was happening and ACTUALLY kiss you back. after you both pulled away, bro just straight up froze. you had to wave your hand in front of his face and just be like “connie..? connieeee?” and he JUMPED back to life and you jumped too because what the fuck, why did bro jump💀. anyways, he was as red as a tomato!! and you thought it was the cutest thing evaaa. when the other boys started piling into the room, you decided it was time for you to take your leave. connie waved you off by the door with literal love hearts in the eyes.

the next day in the canteen, all the boys were coming up to you patting you on the back almost making you spit your food out saying stuff like “way-hey! good job y/n, heard you kissed connie” you were so flustered like please it’s 8am, you don’t need this right now😭. THEN CONNIE comes strolling in like he owns the fuckin’ place, he’s just so happy & feeling so confident after you kissed him; he wholeheartedly believes he’s a god. and now you get to enjoy the next few days of him trying to get kisses off you 24/7, literally like trying to swat a fly away.

- REINER BRAUN

reiner decided your guys’ spot was not only a casual hangout spot but also, a private and romantic place for you lovebirds. since he confessed there, he thought it’d super sweet & sentimental if you guys had your first kiss there too :).

you stroll up the hill heading to your spot, hand in hand, giggling the whole way there. as you were talking about some gossip you’ve heard, reiner just stares at you in pure admiration. all he wants to do is grab you and kiss you already!! before he can actually initiate anything you turn your head and ask with a silly grin, “why’re you staring at me like that..” he wakes up from his daydream and stares EVEN MORE and eventually, goes onto say “i really want to kiss you right now.” AND OH MY DAYS.. you were so flabbergasted like - he just outright said it, so confidently, so full of passion and lust. you confidently (trying to match the energy) said “well, why don’t you?” and that’s when he gently takes your cheek in his big hand and brings you closer, slowly but surely.. then you kiss. you guys kiss for a very long time, you both want to take in every last second of this moment. as the kiss progresses he pulls you in by your waist, so that you’re even closer to him. you bring your hands up and hold onto his muscular biceps. after a few minutes, you both pull away looking a bit messy and a bit.. sloppy. but you literally couldn’t contain your giggles and shy smile, reiner went on to tease you about it for the rest of the evening.

- ANNIE LEONHART

annie had forced you to come work out with her even though you really weren’t feeling it. you were just feeling super lazy and honestly, your limbs felt like noodles. but nonetheless, you’re there in the training arena ready to work out with your girlfriend. you guys did warm ups which even those, almost killer you and when you go onto actually working out and sparring, oh my god. you were DYING and you kept complaining and whining to annie, who wasn’t having any of it. as you began to do sit ups, you whined once again “ughhh, i don’t wanna do this. i could’ve been sleeping still” you said as your back hit the floor, giving up. annie pulled you right back up, looked you dead in the eyes with a tight grip on your shoulders and said “you’re gonna do this work out, okay?” you wiggled your way out of her grasp, hit the floor again and whined even more “nooOo, annie c’mon! i just want to be done already!” annie just sighed with her hands on her knees, staring at you as you laid there eyes closed, clearly frustrated and upset. she was going to let you go but then had a breakthrough. she said with a sigh “hey. if you do these sit ups now, i’ll give you a kiss everytime as a reward.” WHAT?? DID YOU HEAR THAT CORRECTLY?? you shot up IMMEDIATELY in shock and excitement, you could quite literally feel the adrenaline rushing through your body, “YES OKAY ABSOLUTELY, LETSGOLETSGOLETSGO” you wiggled excitedly at this opportunity “jesus, calm down.. it’s just some kisses.” (deep down, she was shitting herself but the girls got a reputation to keep up) that’s where you guys had your first kiss! although it was only a peck. and there was lots of them. little did annie know though, from this day forward you would refuse to work out UNLESS you got kisses as a reward.

- BERTOLT HOOVER

you were just about to go out with bertolt on a lovely little stroll on a fine summers day but you forgot your bag! and you didn’t have time now, you promised you’d give historia her earrings back in time for her date with ymir but don’t worry, bertolt being the lil’ sweetheart he is, offered to run and grab it for you. so, you both set off in your opposite directions - bertolt found your bag with ease and grabbed it but, as he was picking it up, he hit a vase. YOUR vase.. and it smashed all over your dorm room floor and bertolt just freaked the fuck out. he started getting really sweaty and started heavy breathing, honestly he was having a panic attack. and to make matters worse, you had just opened the door and walked in on this mess. bertolt just looked at you with such genuine fear in this eyes. he felt so so so terrible about breaking your vase that he (very anxiously) started rambling straight away, as soon as you walked in, trying to explain himself and in the midst of it all, you were trying to calm him down and tell him that it’s fine and there’s no need to worry - but he just cannot stop. he just kept going on and on and on, and eventually you just had to do something. you’ve thought about doing it for a while now and it might not be the best time right now but fuck it!! you kissed him. partially because you wanted to but also partially because he needed to shut up, bless him. and goddamn, you REALLY shut him up, bro was in the middle of anaphylactic shock after that. he shook himself off like a dog eventually to regain his composure but he got superrr shy and said he couldn’t go out that day anymore😭. you still dragged him along don’t worry and he eventually got over what happened, not fully but still enough.

- ERWIN SMITH

erwin kissed you the day he asked you out. he thought it’d be the best, most romantic way to set off this new relationship! he also saw no point in waiting to kiss you tbh, especially since you were together now. anyways, soon after asking you to be his s/o and a very long embrace with one another - as you pulled apart, his gaze softened looking deeply into your eyes and asked “may i kiss you?” you were so shocked at his forwardness! first the beautiful meal, then becoming an official couple and now a kiss?! however, no matter in how much shock you were, you were far too entranced in this romantic moment to even hesitate, you said “of course you can” with a sultry smile. you guys had a very classic, romantic kiss just like in old time films. you both chuckled lightly as you pulled away and went off into the night together, having a final glass of wine before you left the restaurant.

- LEVI ACKERMAN

as per usual, levi was locked up in his silly little office but you weren’t having that today. it’s a beautiful summers day with no worries of fighting any titans so you decided to drag him out. now, when i say drag i genuinely mean you DRAGGED him by his stupid e-boy haircut, m’kay. EVENTUALLY.. he started walking by himself and you took him to a café! this way, he can still have his tea but he’s finally not in his office. you both ordered tea and you ordered some sweet treats for you guys as well! levi insisted otherwise but you were determined to have a lovely day out with your boyfriend.. who you haven’t kissed yet. you also decided that not only will today be a super cute date day but ALSO, first kiss day. after staying in the café for hours drinking multiple cups of teas and many yummy treats, it was getting dark and you guys’ legs were aching from sitting for so long - so it was finally time to head home. on this walk home, you began to get very sentimental which is when levi started to act all stoic🙄 in the middle of your sentimental rant, you stopped him in his tracks, held his shoulders and said “don’t hate me when i do this…” AND YOU JUST SLAPPED LIPS ON HIM AHH. you genuinely thought he was gonna push you off him and throw you on the ground BUT HE KISSED YOU BACK? and even pulled you closer to him?? literally what the fuck is happening?? after some time, you both pull away and he said “why would i hate you for that? idiot.” and with that, you guys went off into the night as you giggled at your silly actions.

- HANGE ZOË

hange uh.. you guys have already kissed a lot. hange is veryyy affectionate even when you were friends and was especially more affectionate after they realised they liked you😭. so, because of this you got a lot of cheek kisses and light pecks from hange when you guys were just friends. however, as soon as you agreed to being hange’s s/o, they gave you the biggest fattest smooch eva!! a proper first kiss for a proper couple :). remember how they nearly proposed? and you had to be like “ayo hange, d-don’t propose right now, please…” well after they got back up from being down on one knee, they grabbed you by both your cheeks immediately and kissed you. they kissed you for so long, so passionately like they’ve been craving to kiss you like this, kiss you like they really mean it.

[icysinner]

all about phones

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#ID: yall know i love a good smau <3 jus some hcs about their phones cause i’m stalling on writing influenced

warnings: none really, ignore the times i suck at consistency. eren’s momma is very much alive in this #justiceforcarla

characters: eren & jean. (more than likely will do it with connie & armin too tho!)

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♔ eren.

eren probably has a boring phone if we being real

screen time high as hell but he never answers anyone?

probably has a clear case with stickers

maybe a polaroid of the two of you

lock screen is 100% a picture of the two of you, or just you (usually it’s a picture of you that he took)

posts like nothing on his social medias, probably posts on his story if anything

has a highlight of u because once again.. SIMP

posts the lovey dovey pictures w/ the cute songs.

every picture he takes with you immediately goes to his mom

sends you shows for the two of you to watch all the time

his highest screen time is between facetime and tik tok (both are because of you)

has like a million food apps on his phone because you suck at picking where to eat and he just has a catalog of food to pick from

⟣┄─ ˑ ഒ ˳ 𝆕 ׁ 🪈 ִ ◌ ׁ ܀ 🎺 ִ ੭ ֢

♔ jean.

jean is like mentally attached to his phone

mans probably didn’t even have a case until you bought him one

wallpaper is either the two of you, or you and the dog (the dog he hopes to replace with a baby)

jean might actually use his social media ngl

only to post when he travels or when he posts u tho

i’d imagine he’d post his whole album of you if he could but probably prefers the date night pictures

has an album full of pictures of you and him, some of just you

has like a note of all the things you talk about like bags, clothes and things alike so he can buy them

playlists of music you send him, and he has one with all his favorite songs that you’re the cover of

[smashboxgirl26]

washing machine heart

college student! jean kierschtien x college student! reader a/n: late but for my bby jean's bday bc he's little secret bf <33 (also i know that the song washing machine heart is not implying this scenario at all but i thought it was cute and it's 12 am so i dont care)

It was about three am when you stumbled into the laundromat, immediately blinded by the fluorescent lights (and you could just feel the way they buzzed into your eyebags) with your stupid laundry basket that was filled to the brim tucked under your arm. Your dirty, old converse squeaked across the linoleum floor as the doorbell chimed, alerting the only other guy who was there — tucked in the corner at the table by the washers, hunched over to do his homework — but you couldn’t really find the energy to care about your disturbing presence: not when you hadn’t done your laundry in almost a month and needed a pair of panties for the next day. 

You went through the sluggish motions of dumping all your clothes into washer (trying to separate lighter and darker colors but ultimately leaving the couple of white socks that got thrown in with the dark clothes because you just didn’t care at that point) and adding the detergent and softener before plopping yourself down at one of the tables near the front.

You’d made sure to stick your laptop on top of your clothes before you left your dorm so you could try and finish your final project that you’d been procrastinating for way too long; but even as it sat in front of you on the table, you couldn’t really find the will to open it. Not when you’d been sleep deprived for this long. 

Instead, you let your eyes wander towards the guy who was sitting at the table across from you, studying the crinkle in his eyebrows as you let yourself stare off into space — only the sound of the washers and dryers running in the background. 

Something about his brown eyes and mullet looked familiar, maybe you both took a class together; or you both stayed in the same hall? 

Eventually, your eyes landed on the dog bed that was laying on the seat next to him — wrinkling your nose in surprise. You hadn’t seen any dog when you walked in.

But your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of huffing coming from your feet, and you peered down to see a tiny black chihuahua staring back up with needy eyes. As soon as you made eye contact, he jumped up onto your lap and sat down — like he’d picked you to go home with — before pawing at your arm as if he was urging you to pet him.

The guy noticed after a couple seconds, rolling his eyes at the dog as he apologized. 

“Ah, sorry about him. Max, c’mere.”  He tried to lure Max back with a treat, and when that didn’t work, he stood up from his table to come pick the little dog up. But as soon as he got close, the dog growled from his spot in your lap — and the guy just frowned.

“Hey, what’re you growling for?” you looked to the little dog, who’d now taken to staring up at you with his big, empty looking eyes.

“I've been dog sitting for my sister for the past week,” the guy groaned, watching as Max made himself comfortable again in your lap. “And he doesn’t really like me that much for some reason. How’d you make him so comfortable with you in like, five seconds?”

“I didn’t try to,” you shrugged, just letting out a small laugh. “I guess I’m just the dog whisperer.”

“Lend me some of your powers then,” he shook his head. “Max hasn’t let me touch him all week, let alone coming and sitting in my lap like that.”

“I honestly don’t know why, but dogs have always liked me,” you let your hand fall over Max’s head, letting out a small chuckle as he moved his head under your hand to insinuate for you to keep petting him. “My sister used to get so upset when she realized our dog liked me way more than it liked her.”

“Well, guess I can’t go against fate now can I?” he let out a small smile, watching as Max continued to push for you to give him attention — eventually sitting down at your table and sticking out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Jean, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you reciprocated the action, though Max appeared distressed at your hand leaving his head.

“I feel like I'm taking a class with you or something.” Jean stared off like he was thinking. “You just look really familiar.”

“Do you say that to every girl you meet?” you teased, watching a flustered expression jump up to his face.

“What? I wasn’t — That wasn’t… I didn’t mean it like that.” He corrected himself before letting out a small laugh. “I was being serious, I swear.”

“I’m just joking,” you laughed. “I was actually thinking the same thing. What dorn do you live in?”

“Harrison Hall.”

“That’s where I am too.” You couldn’t really help the cutesy little smile that rose up to your (probably exhausted looking) face. “I knew I saw you around there somewhere.”

“I always come here ‘cause the washers and dryers on my floor are basically broken,” Jean let his elbows rest on the table. “I think it’s also cheaper to do it here anyway.”

“That’s the same reason I do it here,” you nodded. “And there’s no parties going on in the background when you’re trying to study and do laundry at the same time.”

“That’s true,” he laughed. 

“All right Max,” you turned back to the round eyes staring at you from your lap and patted his head softly. “I’m gonna give you back to your uncle now, so I can finish my project and turn it in.”

Max protested at first when you put him into Jean’s hands, but he seemed to calm down when Jean stroked his ears and placed him back in his bed where he promptly fell asleep.

You sent Jean a small smile before finally opening your laptop, for perhaps the thirtieth time that night, ready to finally finish your conclusion and get your project over with.

You had to stop halfway in between when the washers you used alerted you that your clothes were done and had to be stuffed in the dryer. All of Jean’s clothes were basically done by that point, which he stood at one of tables to fold them — while only one remaining batch tumbled in the dryer. He’d be done soon though, which you were envious of.

When you finally finished your stupid paper, submitted it, and slammed your laptop shut, you looked back to see that there was still a while for your clothes to finish drying; immediately, in your sleep depriven state, you let your head fall to the table to take a short nap while whispering lies about how you’d wake yourself up in five minutes.

It wasn’t until the doorbell chimed once more that you woke up: needing to shield your eyes from the sun coming in through the windows of the little laundromat

You groaned, realizing you had to get your clothes out of the dryer before someone took them out and just dumped them somewhere, but stopped when you noticed them all neatly folded and placed in your laundry basket — sitting right next to you on your table.

On top, though, laid a little sheet of paper with Jean’s number and a smiley face.

[4ttack-ur-heart]

Jean Hc’s: Masterpiece

Pairing: Jean x reader

Genre: fluff - modern au!

Warnings: none

Summary: Jean does your makeup.

“Hold still, doll.”

Jean sat in front of you on the bed, legs crossed and a brush in his hand. All of your makeup was scattered across the neatly made bed. You kneeled in front of him as he continued to apply various items to your face.

“Stop moving!” He laughed.

A giggle slipped out of your mouth. “I’m sorry I’m sorry, it tickles.”

“Well, hold it in.”

Looking up at him through your mascara-covered lashes, he was concentrated. Very concentrated. The way his eyes creased when fixated on a certain part and the way his tongue poked out of his mouth subconsciously. He had already done your foundation, concealer, powder, brows, and lashes.

“If you keep looking up at me, your mascaras going to rub on your eyelids.” He chastised. Setting down a powder brush, he traded it for your contour.

“It’s not my fault you’re tall.”

You felt the contour stick being applied to your face and the soft beauty blender kneading it in.

It was silent as Jean continued his work. He was very determined to do your makeup better than you.

“How do you know how to do this?” You asked, surprised at his careful and thoughtful movements.

“You know I grew up with my mom, I would watch her do her makeup when she went out with her friends. And then watching you do it all the time. Besides, babe…” He set the beauty blender down and picked up your eyeliner. “I’m an artist.”

“So?” You questioned.

“Sooo, doing your makeup is nothing more than painting a canvas.” He explained and shook the small tube, the little marble inside rattling the mixture. “Now, please. I really need you to hold still.”

“Just in case, I have these.” You handed him a few q-tips you had stored in your bag. Eyeliner was one of your essentials, but definitely not your strong suit. Too many times you had uneven wings or a bulky tip. Nothing a couple swipes of a cotton swab couldn’t fix.

Jean took them from your hand and put the end of one in his mouth. The cotton swab dangled from his lips as he swiped it back and forth like a toothpick.

“(Y/n).” He warned when your head instinctively went to flinch away when the tip of the wand touched your face. Jean frowned at you and used his hand to squeeze your cheeks together, holding you still.

“Stay.”

You felt the wet and cool touch of the wand swipe over the outer corner of your eye and then he applied it to the other eye. A new level of focus crossed his features and his shallow breaths fell on your cheek.

Jean leaned back and moved your face from side to side, examining your face.

“Perfectly even.”

“What?!” You picked up the hand mirror that was next to you and gawked at your reflection. Glancing back and forth between each wing, they were both symmetrical and filled in perfectly. “How the fuck? It takes me 15 minutes to do both eyes and you do them perfectly in under a minute?”

He chuckled and took the q-tip out of his mouth. “Just admit it, babe. You don’t have my skill.”

“Just finish up already.” You rolled your eyes.

Smirking to himself, he waited for your eyeliner to fully dry before picking up your blush and applying it to your cheekbones.

“Are you done yet?” You let out a yawn.

“Careful, you’ll crease everything.”

“Oh my god.”

Jean picked up a lip pencil and traced your lips carefully. He added your lipstick and asked you to rub your lips together to blend it in. His thumb gently swiped over the corner of your lips, wiping off a little smudge.

He opened your highlighter palette and swiped a brush over it before running it gently over your face.

And finally the setting spray.

Jean stared at you with love in his eyes. The way your eye color was enhanced against the black makeup, how the contour structured your facial features, and how the highlight glimmered against your skin tone.

“All done, doll face.” Jean held the mirror up to you.

“Woah, babe!” You took the mirror from him and looked at yourself. Your makeup was neat and precise, almost as if you hired a professional.

It didn’t look cakey or too bold, just the right amount to accentuate your features.

“You like it?” He smiled and leaned an elbow on his knee.

“Yes, I love it! You’re doing my makeup from now on, Mr. Artist.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and placed kisses along his face.

“Hey, careful.” He warned with a smile, hands gently at your waist to pull you off of him. “Don’t smudge your makeup.”

“Can you do my makeup from now on?” You asked.

“I don’t know, I’m not sure you can afford me.”Jean laughed at your facial expression and started to gather all your makeup into the pouch you had. “Yes, of course I’ll do it. You’re my little masterpiece, doll face.”

————

Tag list: @cullenswife @sad-darksoul

[moonbeamoclock]

sleeping in the same bed for the first time: Jean Kirschietn

Jean-bo 💕

in the modern au i always picture him as a frat boy that's built differnt™️

more accepting of all different kinds of people

(he's not perfect in that sense, he still has a lot to learn but he tries his best)

hes unexpectedly shy when you guys are getting ready to sleep together for the first time

like he gets all flustered at the thought of you all soft and sleepy in HIS bed

it's so lovely it makes his chest hurt 🥺

He sleeps in old sweat shorts (no matter the weather) and an even older shirt

but when you come over, he breaks out his nice pajamas (they just don't have holes or as many stains.)

likes to lay side by side with your arms and legs overlapping each other grasping you're hand tightly

in the modern au he sleeps like a log through the night and it's kind of a hassle trying to wake him up because of how soundly he sleeps

canon au he sometimes has nightmares but will try to stay tangled in bed with you

being able to touch and look at you as he's coming off of the adrenaline of the nightmare makes it easier to calm down

when he wakes up he sort of jolts awake and whips his head around to try and figure out where he is and only relaxes after he realizes that you're the one holding on to him

in conclusion, he's a sweepy baby

[ackrmvvn-levi]

I couldn’t hold back || J.K.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Mentions of death, bad language

“The name of that good friend of yours, that one you told me about. Oh right, it’s Marco.”

Your eyes bored into the bowl of stew held in your hands, doing your best to remain calm through this conversation.

“You said Annie was involved in his death, didn’t you?”

You didn’t need to look over at Jean to know he was scowling. Marco’s death had taken a toll on both of you, finding out Annie was involved was even harder.

“Have you asked about it yet? The truth behind his death.”

Your head flashed up, eyes snapping between Yelena and Annie quickly. You hadn’t, truthfully, You didn’t think Jean had either. Up until now, you weren’t sure you really wanted to know. The point of it was Marco was dead, you didn’t need to know the details.

“I took off Marco’s ODM gear.” Annie spoke before anyone could inquire more information. “That’s why a titan ate-“ Reiner cut her off.

“Annie was only following my orders.”

The anger in your chest burned, bubbling under the surface. You could’ve assumed he’d have something to do with it as well, but hearing the words come out of his mouth was a different experience entirely.

“Marco overheard a secret conversation I had with Bertholdt. In fear of our cover being blown, I thought the best way to silence him was to have a titan kill him. I slammed Marco into a roof while in the air. And while I held him down, I had Annie take off his ODM gear. Marco was stuck there until a titan ate him.”

It was deathly quiet as Reiner finished, no one quite able to believe what they were hearing. You felt sick, you were furious. You couldn’t bring yourself to look back at either of them, knowing what they’d done to Marco.

“Did Marco say anything at the very end?” Jean spoke up, eyes trained at the fire in front of him. His tone was hard, cold, his body language seemed stiff, almost like a wall.

“He asked why I wasn’t willing to talk to him.” You looked towards him then, meeting Reiner’s eyes for the first time in years. There was nothing but pure regret in them, and it made something twist deep within your stomach.

“I think that question still applies. We hardly tried to talk, we all just kept fighting, assuming it had to be to the death,” You said finally. Your gaze fell back onto your stew as if suddenly uninterested, unable to maintain eye contact.

“I stood and watched the titan as it devoured Marco and then a switch flipped and I couldn’t figure out why it was happening. I just snapped. I flew into a rage, hellbent on avenging Marco. I cut down the titan myself.”

Your grip on the bowl tightened, your body stiffening at Reiner’s words. Anger fired up again in your blood, fueling a burning sensation behind your eyes that made you want to scream.

“We get it, Reiner. You feel guilty and it screwed with your head,” you snapped, your fingers digging further into the bowl, your glare focused only on the blonde man across from you.

“Don’t forgive me. I’m truly worthless.”

It was silent for another few seconds, Reiner’s eyes refusing to meet yours, but the tension was thick. You were on the verge of exploding when he spoke again.

“I’m sorry.”

You were moving in an instant, your half empty bowl of stew thrown to the side, your body moving towards Reiner before you could even register it.

“Y/N!” Hange’s yell fell on deaf ears as you lunged forward, tackling Reiner to his back. You barely registered your fists connecting to his face, your mind buzzing, eyes seeing red.

He made no move to fight back, your hits only stopping when Mikasa grabbed your wrist. “Stop!” You looked over your shoulder, sending a harsh glare up at the girl before yanking your arm out of her grasp.

“Listen to me, Reiner,” you spoke, turning back on the man under you in a flash, your hand roughly grabbing his shirt to force him to look at you.

“You lied to me, for years. You made me fall in love with you and then broke my heart in the worst way possible. You killed how many innocent people? How many scouts? People I knew, people I cared about. And now I can add Marco to that list. My best friend! Now, you’re gonna sit there and try to apologize? After everything you put me through?! I’ll act civil until we stop Eren. But after that, if I ever see your face again, I’ll fucking kill you,” you growled, glaring into Reiner’s eyes, a level of anger you’d never felt before flowing through your veins.

His eyes widened slightly, as he processed what you had just said. The rage inside of you was something you didn’t know how to handle. The need to hurt Reiner overwhelmed everything else, even logic. It was like an instinct. One you could hardly deny.

But you released him, standing and stalking off from the group, ignoring the calls of your name as you did. You needed time alone to process all this. To calm down. Time away from Reiner and the constant reminder of all those you had lost because of his actions.

You hadn’t noticed the footsteps following closely behind you, not until you heard the familiar voice cut into the silence.

“You got him pretty good.” Jean’s tone held a bit of amusement, but there was concern hidden beneath his words. You knew Jean well, if you hadn’t blown up on Reiner, it was likely he would’ve. He cared about Marco just as much as you did, you knew he was angry too. He had just gotten better at masking it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that.” You turned to meet his gaze, his eyes soft, his expression kind. He was worried about you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been that angry,” you replied, shrugging lightly. “I know I probably shouldn’t have done that, but I couldn’t stop myself. I’ve wanted to see him again for so long, just to yell at him. But hearing him talk about Marco, I couldn’t hold back.”

Jean nodded thoughtfully, running a hand though his hair. His gaze wandered towards the ground as he thought. Then he looked back at you. “I thought it was hot, honestly, but that’s just me.”

You met his eyes again, a second passing before a small laugh left your lips. You grinned at each other for a moment before breaking out into laughter together.

The laughter soon died down, Jean’s arms moving to pull you into his chest. You sighed into his body, melting into him as you dug my face into his shoulder. Your heart calmed itself, settling against the comforting warmth of Jean.

“Are you alright?” Jean asked softly. You could feel his breath ghost across your head as he spoke. “Yeah, I think I am. Just exhausted, honestly.”

As Jean pulled back to check on me, you smiled weakly, his fingers reaching up to push back some stray hairs around your face. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. Your hands moved automatically to rest on his waist and you felt his hands cup your cheeks gently as he closed the distance between you.

Our kiss was light, yet filled with emotion. You could sense the sincerity of it, in the way Jean held you tightly and pressed himself closer. Our lips were moving rhythmically, your breaths mingling together. His thumbs stroked circles over your cheeks, soothing your nerves. You relaxed further into his touch, sinking deeper into his embrace and basking in the moment.

When you finally pulled apart, your bodies remained close, both unwilling to let go. Your cheek rested gently on his shoulder, holding him tight. He ran a hand lightly up and down your back, his touch reassuring.

“Thank you. For being here, with me.” Your voice was slightly muffled, still pressed against his body.

“Of course. Always.” His arms wrapped tighter around you. I could hear his heartbeat slowly starting to steady, his breathing calming once more.