#jean kirschtein one shot

[theragethatisdesire]

pretty girl - jean kirschtein x afab!reader - 18+!!!

there's def more eren coming but while that's in the works please enjoy the result of the jean brainrot i experienced the other day. fair warning- it's going to get pretty rough, but that's what you asked him for ;)

pairing: reader x jean kirschtein

wc: 4.6k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, established relationship (jean's ur gorgeous bf lucky u), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, pretty rough sex, vaginal fingering, biting, dirty talk, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, daddy kink, use of names (pretty girl, crybaby, good girl), very dom jean, multiple orgasm, dacryphilia/crying, creampie

this one was super fun and is very tasty u guys enjoy <3

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-> be there in 5 babe :)

You are not looking forward to this, to say the least. You pace madly around your little apartment in a massive t-shirt and sweatpants covering the skimpiest lingerie set you own. It’s got all the bells and whistles: a matching garter belt, lace in all the right places, stockings that come up to where your plush thighs are the fattest. You should be looking forward to this, you tell yourself, candles lit and ambient lighting ready to go. You have a gorgeous boyfriend who’s going to “be here in five”, and you should be brimming with excitement. But…you’re just not.

Jean’s been in your life for a few months now. What had started as a run-in at the coffee shop around the corner had turned into candlelit dinners, movie marathons, and exclusive titles, and you adore him. His sandy brown hair, the tattoo on his strong bicep, pretty hazel eyes– Jean’s sexy, loving, sarcastic, attentive, literally everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. Except when it comes to your sex life, that is.

The sex isn’t bad per se, you just can’t shake the feeling that he’s holding something back from you. He’s almost too perfect; he’s gentle with you, always taking care to ask permission before touching you, chaste kisses as he slides in, hand-holding in missionary. He cums every time, immune to the whiskey-dick you’d expect from his bourbon drinking habit, so you know he’s enjoying himself, but he doesn’t always seem all there. The fire just isn’t in him, and you know he has that side to him. You’ve seen those hazel eyes you love so much blaze, in a heated argument, at the gym. Why it doesn’t happen in your intimate moments is beyond you, it’s like he’s afraid to break you, like he’s not doing everything–

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Shit, knocking on your front door is what he’s doing.

You take one last look in the mirror: hair’s casual, but still sexy, makeup to a minimum, all straps and lace covered up by your inconspicuous pajamas. Time to potentially ruin your relationship.

“Hey beautiful,” Jean greets you with an innocent smile, “you look cozy.”

“Feel cozy,” you accept his kiss, chewing on your lip as he comes in. Your heart’s pounding in your ears; poor thing has no idea what’s to come. Maybe it’ll go well, you think; false hope might be the only thing that gets you to pull through with your plan.

“Have any movie ideas for tonight? I was thinking Hereditary, but only if you’re not too chicken…” Jean raises his eyebrows, a taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Ha! If only he knew all of the things you aren’t “too chicken” for.

You smile weakly, stomach churning. “Maybe. Can we just…can we just talk for a sec?”

Jean’s playful demeanor drops instantly, replaced by a faint frown. “What about?”

You amble over to the couch, playing with the strings of your sweatpants anxiously. How the fuck are you even supposed to bring this up? Your mind’s racing so quickly it draws a blank, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt: “Sex.”

“Sex?” Jean’s cheeks tinge pink. He hasn’t shaved in probably a week, a shadow covering his sharp jawline. God, he’s gorgeous, you can’t mess this up, you really can’t.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “sex. Our sex, to be clear.”

“I figured as much,” Jean’s sat himself beside you now, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. He’s not upset, not yet, but you’ve definitely caught him off guard.

“I– I feel like we’re on different pages,” you stammer– fuck you are so bad at this, “I just feel like sometimes you’re so…gentle, and you don’t necessarily, like, have to be?”

Jean’s frowning full on now, a precious little wrinkle appearing in the center of his forehead. You’ve hurt him, and your heart sinks. Probably should have started with the pros. “Like…what do you mean, by ‘don’t have to be gentle’?”

“Our sex life is great,” you try to smile enthusiastically, as if you don’t actually want to blow your brains out right now, “please don’t think I’m saying you’re bad in bed or anything. I just, like– okay, for example, have you ever tried anything rough?”

His mouth is a flat line. “Like what?”

“Like, handcuffs, or roleplay, any of that stuff.”

“What have you tried?” His voice is even, collected, but there’s something simmering in him that you can’t put your finger on. It’s not anger, but it tastes similar, running in the same vein but not quite there. It’s your turn to feel your face warm.

“I mean, I’ve tried handcuffs before. Some light slapping, spanking.” You’re twiddling your thumbs, confessing into your lap. You can feel his eyes on you.

“That it?”

“I guess.”

“Did you…enjoy that kind of stuff?” He’s taking the bait. You finally meet his gaze and it ignites a little fire in your stomach; he’s never looked at you this intensely, brows pinched together like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to figure out. All of these little mannerisms are tells, you’re intuitive enough to know that, but exactly what he’s trying to convey you just can’t figure out.

“Yeah.”

“How rough are we talking, here?” Jean sounds deeper than normal, the slightest bit of strain to his words. That’s definitely new; Jean’s the most unshakeable person you’ve ever met.

“If I’m making you uncomfortable, I–”

“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” an easy chuckle floats out of his mouth, “just trying to feel you out is all.”

Your brows furrow. “Feel me out?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Surprised?” Your nose wrinkles. “Did I ever give off the impression that I was, like, super vanilla or something?”

“No,” he laughs again, a bit of the tension melting from the room, “no, not that. We’re just still pretty new, that’s all. Wasn’t going to whip out everything in my toolbox ‘til I knew you were okay with it.”

That piques your interest; you think you’d very much like to see what’s in this toolbox of his. “So you do like some of this stuff?”

Jean rolls that thought over in his mind for a beat before responding, a suspicious smirk that you can’t read tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I guess you could say I like some of this stuff.”

“We’re back to my original question then: what do you like?”

“I’m more worried about what you like,” Jean says, “especially since you won’t come right out and say it. Gonna make me guess?”

That’s your Jean, blunt as ever. The fire in your stomach sparks and spits at the conversation, teasing and tempting. There’s something playful to his words; you can’t shake this feeling that you’re missing something, that he’s toying with you, but you like it. You let him keep pushing, see where he’s leading you. “Sure, guess.”

“Do you like…” Jean trails off, examining you with his chin nestled between his thumb and index finger, “to be dominant?”

“No.”

“Submissive, then.”

“Yeah.” He likes that, you can tell by the way his eyes glint at you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“Like to be tied up?”

“Already told you about the handcuffs.”

“I bet you have a praise kink.”

That has you flustered. There’s a sinking sensation in your stomach that you’ve underestimated him, waded out too deep into the water, but fuck it, you’re already here. “How’d you know?”

Jean smiles, pleased. “I just do. Overstimulation?”

“Sure.”

“Orgasm denial? Degradation?”

“If I deserve it.” It’s a bold answer, but it makes Jean suck in a sharp “fuck” between his teeth. Oh yes, you’ve definitely underestimated him.

“You like to be punished, don’t you?” His hand has traveled up to cup your jaw, thumb playing absentmindedly with your bottom lip. There’s an anticipatory warmth gathering between your legs, and the air between you both is practically crackling, charged by the tension thrumming through both of your bodies.

“Yes,” it comes out in a breath, almost pathetic, but you can’t help yourself. He looks so good, always does, and now he’s grazing his eyes over you like he wants to take a bite.

“You know how safewords work?” You nod a bit too eagerly. “Ours is going to be red, okay?”

“Okay,” you’re agreeing, but you aren’t entirely sure what to, caught up in the soft rubbing of his thumb over your mouth.

“If your mouth is,” a deep breath shakes through his frame, “occupied, give me a sharp pinch with your nails.”

“I can do that,” the tension between you is palpable now, the room’s so hot that you’re surprised your wallpaper isn’t peeling off.

“Go to your room,” Jean releases you, eyes dark and hungry, “take your clothes off and wait for me on the bed. I’ll be in soon.”

You follow his instructions without thinking twice, as if a switch has flipped in your brain. Maybe it was his tone, an authoritative way of speaking that threatens consequence, or maybe you’re just so ready to see what this perfect boyfriend of yours has been hiding all this time. As you’re getting undressed, you realize he still doesn't know about your lingerie. You bite back a smile, kneeling on the bed. This is going to be so good.

A minute or so ticks by slowly, and just when your legs are starting to ache, Jean’s entering your room. His face darkens in a way you’ve never seen before when he sees your little get up; lightning shoots through your core.

“Put on a pretty outfit just for me?”

“Mhm,” you hum.

“That’s good,” he says in that slow drawl of his, “good girl.”

He’s only testing the waters, but you can feel your body viscerally react to the little pet name, shifting on your knees to mask your desperate attempt for friction, dampness spreading in your panties. Jean sees right through your act, smirking.

Jean joins you in undressing, slipping his shirt over his head. You take your time admiring his torso; miles of long, lean muscle, little ripples by his ribs trailing into a ridiculous six-pack. Jean’s a confessed gym rat, and it shows in every little line along his body. You have to blink and look away before you start salivating.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jean scolds, tilting your head up towards him, “eyes on me, got it?”

“Got it,” you answer. Jean frowns.

“That’s not very nice,” he says, “try again.”

You go out on a limb. “Yes, sir.”

Jean’s eyes glint again in that mean, pretty way you saw earlier. You did good, you did good for him. “Much better. Get on the floor.”

You slide off of your mattress, practically buzzing with anticipation, settling on your knees in front of him. A low groan rumbles in Jean’s chest.

“Look so good like that, my pretty girl.”

Oh, you really like that, nuzzling against his hand on your head. Jean smiles down at you, inching his pants down until that little thatch of brown hair starts revealing itself. “Open up for me, nice and wide.”

Your jaw’s dropped, mouth open and tongue out, expectant. Jean smiles wider, sharp and dangerous, pulling his cock out for you. He taps the head against your tongue a few times, even slaps you with it, facade faltering for a fraction of a second to gauge your reaction. You’re good for him, sitting still and patient with your mouth still open, a drop of drool starting to slide off the end of your tongue. Jean makes a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a chuckle.

“Oh, you’re an obedient little thing, aren’t you?” Your panties grow impossibly wetter, you wiggle on your thighs under him, earning yourself another slap of his cock on your tongue, heavy and drooling. “Gonna fuck this pretty face, okay?”

You close your mouth around his head, sucking lightly to show your approval. He’s not even touched you, not so much as a kiss, and your brain’s foggy, running like a hamster on a wheel chasing the circular thought of be good, be good, be good. Jean grabs your hair none-too-gently, tugging it at the roots, and starts canting his hips towards your mouth, muttering under his breath about how good you are, how good your mouth feels on him.

You lower your jaw ever so slightly, and before long, Jean’s picking up speed, knocking your gag reflex here and there and making you cough around him. He doesn’t seem overly concerned; in fact, he grins cruelly down at you when he hits an extra-sensitive spot, making you hunch and gag on him.

“Look at my pretty girl, so happy getting her mouth fucked,” he hisses when you moan around him, feeling the vibrations up his cock. He’s moving faster now, rougher than he’s ever been. You’re gagging with some regularity, tears welling up in your eyes and threatening to spill down your cheeks. You expect him to let up, give you some air, but it only spurs him on, and before you know it, there are thick streams of tears running down your face. Your jaw aches, your knees burn, but you stay, letting him use you how he pleases.

“Fucking crying on me,” Jean growls, “my cock too much for you?”

You try to answer with a shake of your head, but he’s relentless, fingers tightening in your hair and cock shoving to the back of your throat, making you retch.

“No, you love it, don’t you? My little crybaby.”

You’re so wet you can feel it gathering on the insides of your thighs, entirely soaked through your panties. You move your hips subtly, this way and that, desperate for friction. Jean notices, pulling out of your mouth but staying connected by a string of your spit.

“You squirming, pretty girl? Need some attention?”

“Yes, sir,” you rasp, nodding eagerly. Jean helps you up onto the bed, lays you back against his chest facing the mirror on top of your wardrobe. It’s a terribly lewd sight; you spread out in front of him, face swollen and teary, the telltale glisten of wetness glittering on your thighs.

Jean slides a hand down your body, rubbing you over your panties and nibbling at your ear. “You’re gonna watch me make you cum, and if I see you look away, I’m fucking you ‘til I cum, and you’re not getting a damn thing. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” your voice wobbles pathetically. Jean seems to like it; his cock twitches in interest against your back. He pushes your panties to the side, flicking his fingers faster over your clit. Embarrassingly enough, you’re already nearing your halfway point from the face-fucking, moaning and grinding up into his palm.

“Need something?”

“Mhm,” you grit out, jaw clenched. Jean slaps your pussy; not too hard, but firm enough to make you jolt, bring you a moment of clarity.

“Manners,” he reminds you sharply.

“I’m sorry, I– can I please have a finger?”

Jean’s placated, slides one finger into you and laughs hot against your neck at the obscene sound that tears from your throat. “What do we say when we get what we ask for?”

“Thank you– fuck, thank you,” your words are coming out in puffs of breathe. Jean has long, skilled fingers, a fact you’re already familiar with, but the position he’s put you in has you dripping onto the sheets: forcing you to watch as he pumps in and out of you, grinding into your clit with the heel of his hand. You’ll be lucky if you last another minute.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? My pretty girl likes being full, right?” Jean murmurs, hot against the shell of your ear. “Tell me.”

“Yes, sir, I– I like it, I need– fuck!”

“What do you need?” Jean coos, entertained, as if he’s not unraveling you with just the one.

“I want one m-more finger, please,” you stutter, relieved you’re able to get the words out at all.

“Learning so fast,” Jean kisses your shoulder, granting your wish. His fingers are thick, the slight stretch making you throw your head back against his shoulder, hips rolling into his hand of their own accord. “Still looking?”

You force your head back to its upright position, mindful of the threat in his tone. His fingers work faster at your obedience, curling insistently against the gummy spot inside your walls that makes you see stars, makes you a little out of your mind with need. It’s that out-of-mind dizziness in your head that causes your little slip-up:

“Fuck, please, more- more, Daddy.”

Jean’s fingers still; it’s not until you’re halfway into a whine of disappointment that you realize what you’ve said. Your face burns; you meet his eyes in the mirror, yours shot wide and embarrassed. You trip over your words, trying to explain yourself. That definitely hadn’t been mentioned in your earlier conversation.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, I just–”

“Just what? Already so fucked out you can’t think straight?” Jean curls his fingers pointedly against your walls, punching a groan from your chest.

“Yeah,” you sigh, head growing cloudy again.

“Say it again.” That definitely isn’t what you expect to hear him mutter against your neck. Jean works a third finger into your cunt with some difficulty, stretching you to your limits. “Fucking say it, or you’re not cumming.”

“Oh my God, D-Daddy,” your cries are pathetic, punctuated by whimpers. The bubble in your stomach is about to pop, the tension growing unbearable. You’re almost there, grinding into his hand pitifully and babbling, when Jean takes one of his hands to grab your throat roughly. He holds you captive, staring at your own stretched cunt on display for you in the mirror.

“Good, good girl,” he says, “now watch Daddy make you cum.”

The band inside you snaps viciously; your back arches away from him, and you squirt, gushing all over your bed sheets, inhuman sounds tearing from your throat where you struggle under his hand. Jean’s working you through the whole thing, still steadily pumping his fingers and whispering dirty little nothings into your ear. It finally begins to quiet, overstimulation washing over you. You push urgently at his wrist, mumbling something or other about “too much, too much”.

Jean mercifully obliges, pulling his hand from you with a shameful sucking sound, giving your pussy another light slap.

“Such a good girl for me, yeah? How you feelin’?”

“Good, so good,” you slur, “I’ve never– never…”

“Never squirted?” Jean’s eyebrows shoot up at your answering nod before a smug expression settles over his face. “Such a fun little toy, aren’t you? Just wait, you’ll get used to it soon enough.”

Your cunt clenches around nothing; so he can make you do that? Again? Jean’s slid out from behind you and is repositioning your limp body, dragging you down the bed by your ankles to line you up with his cock. He bends your knees up, pressing them close to your head. Jesus, he’s going to kill you at this rate.

“Want me to fuck you?”

“Please,” you hate the begging lilt to your voice, but you’re beyond fighting it. You gave up the reins a long time ago when you knelt for him, let him call you a good girl, let him fuck your throat.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl, Daddy’s gotcha,” Jean starts bullying his way into your pussy, still tight and pulsing from your orgasm. “Shit, got a tight little cunt, don’t you? Feels so good– fuck.”

You’re simpering under him, barely able to process the stretch of his cock in you. He’s well-endowed and you’re overwhelmed, a dizzying combination for your fucked-out brain to handle. Just when you think he might be in your throat he’s so deep in you, his hips press to the back of your thighs, both of you letting out a long groan at the feeling.

“So pretty,” Jean muses, not moving yet, just placing a thumb on your clit and absentmindedly playing with it, “such a beautiful pussy.”

You whine, frustrated. He glares at you, landing a harsh smack to your inner thigh.

“I’m not going to warn you again.”

“Please fuck me, oh God, please,” you pant, past the point of humility. Jean licks his lips, presses his palms deep into the backs of your knees, practically folding you in half. He gives you what you ask for.

You’re jolted back and forth on the mattress, mouth hung open in a silent scream as he splits you open on him, forces every inch deep into you. His tip’s kissing your cervix, pain blooming in your abdomen, but you don’t even care, so lost in the rhythm of his hips.

“Jean, I– oh my God,” you try to tell him how good he feels, but all you get is a firm hand around your throat.

“Who’s fucking this pretty cunt up, hm? Fucking you good and deep? Who is it?”

“Daddy,” you choke out, breathless, “Daddy’s.”

“There you go,” Jean’s focused on where you’re connected, eyes never leaving the frothy white ring forming around the base of his cock. You’re crying again, vaguely aware of the streams of tears running down your temples, into your hairline, but fuck, he just feels so good your brain can’t even process it. Jean takes notice, wipes one of your tears and licks it off of his thumb. “Cute fucking crybaby, all happy and cockdrunk, aren’t you?”

You whimper some semblance of an agreement, feeling the band of tension in you already getting stretched to a breaking point. He’s at an angle that allows him to hammer into the most delicious spot inside of you, rubbing against it with each thrust.

“Gonna cum soon, I– I’m gonna cum soon,” you manage, locking his gaze.

“Let me feel it, go on, do it for me,” Jean pants, squeezing your neck tighter. The lack of air goes to your head; the room spins until all you can focus on is him pounding into you. You cum violently, throbbing around his cock, thrashing against his strong arms. Jean fucks you through it, never losing his pace. “Good fucking girl, just like that.”

You’re practically wheezing as your senses return to you, clawing at Jean’s arm on your throat. He lets up on your neck, smiling down at you. “Feel good?”

“Mhm,” you hum, blissed out and half-asleep until Jean flips you, forcing you to prop up on your hands and knees. “Wait, Jean–”

“Wait?” Jean scoffs, sliding back into you. You let out a little cry, and he smacks your ass sharply. “This is what you asked for, right? Said I was being too nice to you.”

“I didn’t– oh my god…” your eyes roll back into your head, a well-placed thrust cutting your words off. “It’s so…it’s so much, Jean.”

Jean lands three more sharp slaps to your ass, already thrusting into you at a brutal pace. “What was that?”

“T-too much, Daddy,” you collapse, face shoved into the bed to mask the pitiful cries leaving your mouth. It is too much; if you tuck your chin to your chest, you can see a little bulge in your tummy where he’s fucking into you, another orgasm already building in the pit of your stomach. You feel like you might pass out if he makes you cum again, but he’s ruthless.

“Too much?” Jean coos, fisting your hair to turn your face. He’s glaring down at you. “You were practically begging me for it, and my pretty girl gets what she wants, right? Said you wanted it rough, so you’re going to fucking take it.”

You nod miserably, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Jean hisses when you clamp down around him. “Squeezing me so goddamn tight, this pussy.”

You feel a hand start thrumming insistently against your clit and nearly shriek; your pussy’s so swollen, so sensitive already. You claw at the bedsheets, feeling something warm and wet swelling inside of you.

“Daddy, I– fuck, it’s, it’s–”

“Gonna make you squirt again,” it’s a promise from behind your ear, “you’re gonna squirt on my cock and Daddy’ll cum for you, okay?”

“I can’t, I–” you’re wailing, words cut off by your own moans. Jean loves it, you can feel his thrusts growing more urgent against your hips, so deep in you you could choke.

“You can,” he corrects you, hand moving faster, “want Daddy to cum in you?”

“Yes, please, p-please,” You cry, letting him use you as he wishes. 

“I’ll give it to you, gotta cum first, you can do that, can’t you? Taking me so well, pretty girl, just need you to cum one more time for me.”

“Uh-huh,” the edges of your vision are starting to close in. He’s ruthless, hips slamming into yours hard enough to bruise, cock stretching you out so nicely, you can’t hold it, but you know, somewhere deep in this primal part of your brain, you need to be good, need to ask him. “Need to cum, Daddy, please– please let me, I–”

“Go ahead,” Jean shushes you, hips moving impossibly faster, “be a good girl, let me feel it.”

That tips you over the edge and Jean makes good on his promise; your cum is dripping out of you, spraying onto his thighs and ruining your sheets. You’re thrashing your head back and forth and sobbing through your orgasm, pinned and powerless under him. Jean swears at the vice-like grip you have on him; it doesn’t take him long to follow suit, pressing himself as deep as he can go, cumming in you. He bends over you as he does, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to him, kissing you hard in a mess of tongue and teeth. You feel it warming your stomach, moaning appreciatively until you both collapse in a sweaty mess of limbs, gasping for breath and clutching onto one another.

Jean allows himself a few moments to catch his breath, and then he’s pulling out of you, leaving you empty and whimpering. He shushes you, holding you close to his chest and letting you work through the intense session in his arms. You’ve never been so fucked out, nuzzling into his chest and simply letting him hold you, letting the aftershocks wrack through your sore body. After a few minutes you’re coming to; the haze begins to lift, and you peek up at him, unsure of where to start after…that.

“You okay?”

You turn the words over in your mouth before you can get them out, still feeling a bit like you’re floating. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. That was…wow.”

Jean, the man that just held you down and forced what were probably life-threatening orgasms out of you, blushes. “Yeah, it was really something.”

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, giggling despite yourself. Your mind is still a little cloudy, a little soft after everything. “But it was good. So good.”

“Yeah?” Jean grins, hoisting you up into his lap so you can both sit up, still cradling you to his chest. “Not too gentle, was I?”

Your face grows hot, you want to hide it behind your hands. “No, not too gentle.”

“You were right earlier,” he admits, “I was definitely holding out on you just because the way I like to…I mean, I don’t think I need to get too into it, you were there. It can be a lot. Didn’t want to push you too far.”

You hum contentedly, playing with the little gold chain he always wears. “I understand that now, but I’m a big girl. I can handle whatever you want to give me, promise.”

“Don’t say that,” Jean groans, “too tired for round two.”

Your hand falls into the mess between your thighs, and you wince. “Maybe after a shower?”

“Greedy,” Jean tuts, scooping you up with him to make the journey over to your bathroom, “my greedy, pretty girl.”

[softxsuki]

i love the aesthetic of your blog so much and you’re an incredibly talented writer!! your works are super comforting to me and i always look forward to seeing them in my feed. i’ve read your note as well & you’re so thoughtful trying to create content for people having a tough time. i appreciate you! :)

i was wondering if you could do something with jean kirschtein helping a reader fall asleep and/or just being comforting and taking care of them when they’re sad or not feeling well/fatigued? i would love to see this as a oneshot and leaning romantic and fem!reader but as the writer please take the liberty to do what’s easiest or most comfortable for you!! i saw you have a lot of requests pending so if you can’t get to this, i completely understand and no worries!! thank u so much <33 have a wonderful week 🤍

Jean Helps S/O Fall Asleep

Pairing: Jean x Fem!Reader

Warnings: slight kissing, feeling anxious, not being able to sleep

Genre: Fluff, Comfort (kinda)

Post-Type: Oneshot (surprisingly)

Word Count: 1k

Summary: In which you sneak to the men's barracks to find Jean after struggling to fall asleep at night

[A/N: Oh wow hi! Thank you so much for the compliment. My blog theme is different now, but I hope you still like it JEKAFE. I finally got to your request, I just hope you're still around to read it (lemme know if you are <3) I hope I did alright. For some reason I suck so bad at writing for Jean. I'm working on it though T-T. Hope you're doing well, enjoy <3]

It was dark as light snores filled the room; yet you were still very much awake. No matter how long you kept your eyes closed, sleep never came. Was it the anxiety that filled your heart, wondering when you’d all have to go into action? Or was it the little issues in your life that kept popping back into your mind, making you restless? There were an endless number of possibilities, yet you couldn’t pinpoint which one it was exactly. For all you knew it could have been a mixture of all those things and more.

It was way past curfew and you knew going to the men’s barracks would probably get you into a lot of trouble if Levi or any of your other superiors caught you, but you needed to see your boyfriend, Jean. Having met him through the Survey Corps, you’d been together for a few years now and Jean very quickly became the one you relied on the most. If anyone could help bring peace to your restless mind so you could get some sleep, it would be him. So, you sneak out of your bed, careful not to wake Sasha who was asleep in the bunk above you; she’d definitely be too loud if you woke her accidentally. 

Slipping on your boots, you sneak out of the woman’s barracks and head towards the men’s barracks which wasn’t too far away, though you had to avoid being spotted from a few soldiers that were keeping watch, nothing crazy though. You could feel your heart beating in your chest, anxious to be caught, yet desperate and excited to be in Jean’s arms. 

As soon as you successfully make it into the men’s barracks, you head straight for Jean’s bed. Thankfully he had a lower bunk so you wouldn’t have to worry about climbing up a ladder to get to him. The smell of man hits your nose, making you scrunch your nose slightly–it wasn’t the most pleasant scent, but it would have to do. 

When you spot Jean, he’s peacefully asleep, and you debate whether you should wake him up or not. He worked hard during the day, carrying heavy items around the base and training so he can always be in his best condition when the time comes. You felt guilty–why couldn’t you just handle this alone? There was no reason to bother him about it and ruin his own rest. You sigh before turning back around to go back to your own barracks, when a voice stops you.

“Babe? What’s wrong?” It was Jean.

Turning back around, you see him sitting up now with his eyes opened slightly as he watches you.

“Nothing! Don’t worry about it, go back to sleep, baby,” you whisper to him and go to continue walking away, but you feel him grab your arm and pull you into his bed. 

“C’mon, tell me. I know you didn’t just come here to watch me sleep and then leave. Unless you did, that would be really weird,” he jokes, speaking softly as to not awaken the guys around him.

You crack a smile at that. Already you were feeling a little less anxious and more relaxed than you were in your own bed. Leaning back into his chest as his arms wrap around you, he holds you tightly, waiting for you to speak.

“I just…couldn’t sleep,” you admit, feeling a little childish now that you said it out loud. So what if you couldn’t sleep? Was that any reason to go running to him? (um yes, duh)

But Jean thought otherwise. “Then I better fix that, huh?” You can hear the smile in his tone as he leans in to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Come lie down.”

And you do. Squished together on the tiny twin bed, you both lie down, while Jean keeps his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close into his chest as he presses several kisses to your face now, leaving the last kiss on your lips with a hum. 

“Close your eyes and take deep breaths,” he instructs quietly, his fingers running mindlessly through your hair, leaning in a little further every now and then to massage your scalp in hope to help you relax. “Everything’s okay. You’re safe, you’re loved, and most importantly, you have me here to hold you.”

Deciding to listen to him, yet already feeling a lot more sleepy now that you were in his arms cuddled up together, you take a deep breath and close your eyes, following his breathing as the sensation of his fingers in your hair, helps you fall deeper and deeper into a relaxed state. His comforting words sink into your mind, replacing and quieting down your restless thoughts.

“Good girl,” Jean whispers in your ear, now closing his own eyes as you both breathe deeply together, a comfortable silence falling over you. You cuddle closer to him before drifting off to dreamland, your dreams full of Jean and your hopefully bright future together. 

…

You don’t even remember when you fell asleep, but you did. Opening your eyes first thing in the morning, you didn’t expect to hear hushed giggles or the sight of all your male comrades hovered over you with sly smiles on their faces.

“Had fun?” Eren teases with a smirk, never missing an opportunity to get under Jean’s skin. 

“Oh shut up, as if none of you haven’t done this before,” Jean finally opens his own eyes, and shoo’s everyone away, turning to you and kissing you. “Morning my love.”

You felt your face go hot as the guys around you whistled, but the sudden commotion didn’t help as Levi entered the barracks to tell everyone to quiet down, and unfortunately spotted the two of you in bed together. It was very obvious that you had spent the night with Jean, a clear violation of the Survey Corp rules, and Levi was definitely not pleased.

You’re both punished with extra chores and running laps before dinner, not being allowed to eat until all 100 laps are done. Though being able to spend the night with your boyfriend and have the best sleep you’d had in a while was more than worth it. You were already planning your future trip to the men’s barracks to do it again, even if it meant running more laps and annoying Levi.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 7/27/2023

[skyforlays]

Truth or Dare ?

18 +Minors dni!!!

Sub Jean X Sub Connie X Dom Reader

CW: mentions of alcohol, pegging, praise, handjobs friends to lovers!

word count: 452

This is my first smut I think of it more as a drabble enjoy cuties

You, Connie, and Jean have been best friends for as long as you can remember. You went to middle school and are now in college together. You were all bored in your dorms, and you were bored and a bit tipsy.

"Guys, we should play a game," you said to your two best friends as they mindlessly stared at the wall. ''Yeah, we should. I'm bored. AF Connie says in agreement.

"Let's play truth or dare; it'll be fun." Jean says

Truth or dare, but we make it dirty. Jean winks at me, and Connie

We haven't played that shit since middle school, you say, giggling, "C'mon, please, it'll be funny, Jean winks''

Alright alright I give in; we can play.

great! I'll go first.

Connie Truth or dare you ask intrigued

Um, the truth?

Is it true that you had a wet dream about me and Jean and never told us?

Y-yes, I have 

We both laugh a bit as we keep going. Jean truth or dare. I’m no pussycat dare. I dare you to give me and Connie a lap dance.

W-what no 

Why are you scared, bro?

Jean then gets up and sits on Connie’s lap, then goes in your lap and gives you a lap dance in return. Fuck this, I need you both right now. I begin to kiss Connie passionately as I turn around and massage Jean through his boxers.

Jean whimpered as I began to palm him, and I made way, kissing Connie’s neck. The alcohol makes me feel bold as I begin to pleasure them both.

Please, Connie says in a whisper, I want more. I begin sucking at his chest and making marks on his porcelain skin. Your moans are so pretty to hear, Connie. Do you want me to fuck you?

Yes, please fuck me. I place Connie on the bed as I lay his ass on my face. I got two fingers and lubed up Connie's hole as I prepared him for the strap. Connie’s moans filled the bedroom as we continued.

You ready, cutie? I kiss his back as I slowly enter. He nods as I enter him. As he feels the 7-inch strap enter him, he moans in ecstasy. I take this opportunity to jerk off my jeans. They passionately make out in front of me as Connie gets roughly fucked and Jean gets jerked off.  You are almost there, aren't you? My gorgeous boys cum for me.

Connie came all over the sheets as Jean came all over my hand. I kiss Jean and then Connie. So boys are around too? I ask, smirking a bit. 

They both smile at me weakly. 

I'll take that as a yes.

[jeanssaddle]

Thinking about a modern AU adult Jean who was a bully and a fuckboy in his high school and college years. He never really dealt with any hardship, instead being the one causing problems. He meets and falls in love with reader, who's had an exceptionally difficult life, being bullied and played constantly, among other things, as she was growing up. He loves her so much that when she tells him about some of the things she went through, he can't bear to think of anyone hurting her or mistreating her. He begins to reflect on all the things he did to people and starts to hate himself for it. Finally breaking down, he tells reader he doesn't deserve her. She tells him she doesn't care that he made mistakes in the past, that the past is the past and that everyone deserves a second chance and to be loved. So he just fucking sobs and holds her, vowing that he's going to protect her from being hurt ever again. And yeah, I really hate living in a world where Jean Kirstein is fictional.

[redskull199987]

Betrayl

Eren Jaeger x female!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: none basically, making out?

Summary: You couldn't believe that Eren would betray you and your friends. As him and the Jaegerists capture your squad, an exiting talk awaits you...

Masterlist

All I could do was watch in Horror, as Eren slowly sat down at our table. Gabi next to him had the most frightened look on her face, I've ever seen.

Armin and Mikasa looked even worse. To say they were shocked, was an understatement.

"Eren", I mumbled.

He didn't even look at me, he kept his eyes focused on Mikasa. And then he started talking and talking. He said all those horrible things. I didn't even notice him anymore. Where was the Eren that I fell in love with? Where was the sweet boy, who always stood up for his people? The boy whose only goal it was to protect and fight for his island? Where was he?

"Y/N?"

I looked up from my place in the cell. It was Jean who said my name. He smiled sadly and slowly said down next to me.

"How are you doing?", he asked.

"I wish I could say that I am fine", I mumbled and leaned my head against his shoulder, "But what Eren did back at the Restaurant...I didn't even notice him. What he did to Armin and Mikasa..."

I stumbled over my own words. I couldn't say it, to afraid of it. Because as soon as I said it, I knew that it was true. That Eren had...changed, and not for the better.

"I know", Jean mumbled, "Armin told us"

A sigh left my lips, I just couldn't believe it. Why would Eren do such a thing? Why would he betray us?

"I like to believe that he's still in there, you know", Jean mumbled. I looked up at him perplexed.

"That the little suicidal maniac is still inside him, somewhere. But, I refuse to believe that he's gone."

I smiled at his words:"Hopefully you're right."

"Yeah I hope so too-"

Jean was interrupted by the sound of the cell door opening. It was Floch.

"Y/N, Eren wants to speak to you", he said and walked over to me."

"She's not going!", Jean jumped up, "Not alone"

I slowly got up and put a hand on his shoulder:"It's alright"

"But Y/N-", he mumbled.

"I just hope you're right", I said and squeezed his shoulder a bit. Jean seemed to understand and slowly stepped aside.

I followed Floch as he stepped out of the cell. I looked at Armin and Mikasa on my way out. Both of them looked concerned.

"Be careful", Armin mumbled, as I passed him. I nodded and finally stepped out of the cell. I watched as Floch closed the door and waited for him to tie up my hands, but he never did it.

Perplexed I followed him. He guided me through the building, through the floors I've walked so many times, together with Mikasa and Armin, with Jean, Conny and Sasha...and with Eren.

"We're here", Floch said and stopped in front of a huge wooden door. It was the bureau of the late Secretary, if I wasn't mistaken.

"He's waiting", Floch mumbled before leaving me alone in front of the door. He knew that I wouldn't try anything. The Jaegerists were stationed everywhere around the building. I wouldn't even make it back to the others.

So, there was only one way left and that was the door right in front of me.

I breathed in shakingly before I grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.

I glanced around the room and noticed Eren in front of the Windows. We were alone.

"Y/N", he said.

I gasped. It had been so long, since I heard him say my name. So long, since we had a quiet minute together. It was so long ago, that he confessed his feelings for me. Back when we were still cadets.

"I missed you", Eren mumbled.

He turned around and looked at me. A light smile was lingering on his face.

I didn't know what to say, so I only stepped closer to him.

He had changed so much. He was much taller now, his hair so long now, he was wearing it in a bun.

I couldn't help myself and raised my hand to softly caress his face. I watched as Eren closed his eyes and carefully put his hand on top of mine.

"I missed you too", I confessed and looked down. I couldn't bare looking at him. I couldn't bare the fact that I still missed him, after all he did to us.

"Look at me", Eren mumbled. I shook my head. I just couldn't. I already felt the tears slipping down my face. I feared that if I looked at him, I would loose my mind.

"Y/N", Eren said softly. I felt his hand slip under my chin and he pulled my face up to look at him.

He watched with a sad smile how the tears ran down my cheeks.

"I am sorry", he mumbled and slowly wiped away my tears with his thump.

"Why Eren? Why did you do all this?", I asked. My voice was so quiet and shaky, it was a wonder if he even understood what I said.

"For you", Eren said, "And for Armin, for Mikasa, for Jean, for the Captain. For everyone on this island. I did it all to save our people"

"And what about all the people who died?!", I yelled and slapped his hand away, "What about Sasha, hm!?! What about her!?"

"What happened to Sasha...", Eren pressed out, "That is something that will never happen again. I will make sure of it. I will make sure that all people of Marley will be wiped out"

My eyes widened at his Words:"What do you...?"

"I was never working together with Zeke, or Yelena. I'm only using them. All I want from Zeke is the power of the founding Titan. His plan to make all Eldinas infertile is ridiculous! That would be the end for our people!"

"So...Everything that you said, was a lie?", I asked perplexed, "Everthing that you said to Mikasa? And everything that Yelena and the Jaegerists told us?"

"It's all a lie", Eren nodded. He cautiously stepped closer to me again, "Y/N, I will always be on your side. I would never betray you. You and the Levi squad, you guys are my family. How could I betray you?"

"Eren, I-", I didn't know what to say. Of course, I Was beyond relieved, that Eren didn't betray us, but on the other hand, I didn't know if I could trust him? Was he telling the truth? What if it was just a trick?

"Y/N, I'm-", Eren started, but it seemed like he was out of words himself. So he let his actions speak.

Eren stepped forward and grabbed my arm, pulling me into his chest. His arms entangled themselves around my waist and as I looked up at him, his lips were on mine. I was a little shocked at first, but after mere seconds I gave in. Our lips moved together in sync and I felt him pulling me impossibly closer, while my hands wandered up to rest around his neck.

I felt Eren sigh against my lips and used the opportunity to sneak my tongue into his mouth. Eren was eager to respond, his lips working against mine, as we fought for dominance. But ultimately Eren won and he pushed me against the desk behind us.

"Jump", he whispered against my lips and I obeyed immediately, as I felt how he pushed his lips against my jaw and made his way down my neck. I felt Eren's cool hands slip under my uniform shirt, as he started roaming the exposed skin.

"Eren", I sighed against his shoulder, as he kissed my sweet spot. It felt heavenly.

But suddenly I remembered, What situation we were in.

I pulled away and pushed Eren off me. He looked perplexed.

"Eren, I-", I mumbled again,"Waht are you gonna do next?"

"I will-"

He was interrupted, as we heard explosions go off in the distance. The building shook multiple times and I fell off of the desk, that I was still sitting on.

"Y/N, are you alright?", Eren shouted and jumped over to help me up.

"I'm fine", I mumbled and walked over to the windows.

"It's them, it's Marley", I stated as I saw the airships, "Reiner and the others two Titans are a hundred percent with them"

"Y/N, you need to go and get the others. Explain it to them. We will need their help", Eren said and pulled me back against him.

"I am going to finish this, once and for all. But I will need your help", he said and grabbed my hand.

I was still not very fond of his plan to kill all of Marley, but right now we had no choice. They were attacking Paradis and we had to work together to survive.

"We're gonna win this", I said sternly and nodded. I felt Eren slightly squeeze my hand. He smiled and pulled me in for another kiss. He pressed his lips against mine passionately. This kiss was different then the one before. It was full of emotions and unspoken words. Words we didn't have time for now. Words that were going to be spoken in the future...Hopefully.

"I love you", Eren mumbled as we parted.

"I know", I smiled, "And I love you"

"Go now!", Eren said and pushed me towards the door. His hand left mine and I looked back one last time, the look on Erens face was concerning. He looked like he could destroy the entire world, and I was afraid that he would do exactly that...

[firefly--bright]

Aayat ki Tarah.

jean kirstein x fem!desi!reader

the tinkling of your payal in jean's hands.

warnings : none.

tags : @androphobicslut , @san3ttessimz , @flowersbloominthedark , @pl4ybhaicarti , @voidheichou

a/n : god the amount of support i on posting that one (1) post of making a one shot of jean x desi! reader was. so. thank you.

i am aware that everyone's desi experiences are different, so I've tried not to go into too much detail and tried keeping things general, but i am sorry if i somehow offended you!!! i am open to any and all constructive criticisms!

translations will be given after the work! this is an incredibly self indulgent fic and i had so much fun writing it lol. thank you for reading this, and i hope you like it! reblogs, likes and notes are appreciated :))

| main masterlist is pinned on my profile| playlist i was listening to while writing |

--

Tujhe yaad kar liya hai,

Aayat ki tarah…

Im late, im late im late.  

You put a bindi on your forehead, immediately removing it because it wasn’t centred.

You didn’t have the time or patience to center it, so you just let it drop to the ground, not bothering to put it on your mirror like you knew your mother taught you how to.

Most times, you'd find used bindis on random mirrors all over your house.

Smiling to yourself, you put the finishing touch, the piece of resistance, a dupatta over your shoulder, smearing some kajal behind your right ear to "ward off evil spirits."

“love?” you heard Jean call out, opening your door fully.

The music echoed in your room, the gentle and powerful melody of which did not match the urgency of your situation.

Adjusting the dupatta a bit, you took one last look in the mirror, hoping and praying everyone else was as late as you were to the wedding. You were contemplating putting a pin to hold the dupatta in place, but a soft whisper of “holy shit,” snapped you out of your reverie.

You turned around to see Jean, dressed in a suit as instructed, with his mouth practically hanging open. You smiled a bit at the cliché reaction. You didn’t blame him; this was the first time he’d ever seen you in a lehenga, let alone in a lehenga like this. Usually your traditional wear was something quite simple, but since it was your first cousin’s wedding, your mother practically begged you to purchase the slightly grander one. And judging by your boyfriend’s expression, it was a good choice.

The music changed, playing the next one from your playlist. You walked over to Jean, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“you look good, jaan. But we’re late and I want to get there before my siblings do.” You say, brushing past him.

Jean jumped slightly and followed you to the front door.

“thank you, love. You look gorgeous too,” he says, smirking as he puts on his shoes, following your movements.

You smile back.

The night was somewhat chilly, but thankfully you were in Jean’s car, which kept you warm enough. Luck seemed to be on your side that day, since your mother was also running somewhat late.

Atleast you’d reach before her and avoid her endless berating if you were to reach later than her.

You should’ve just taken her advice and stayed at the hotel with the rest of your cousins, though. It would’ve been easier after the mehendi night, saving Jean from the hassle of picking you up as well, even if he had barely complained the other night.

You glanced at him from the passenger seat. His hands were gently drumming the steering wheel to the beat of the soft songs. He insisted on playing the playlist you had made, which was full of said soft desi songs that made you viscerally feel, in a way you didn’t know you could. Classical music was something you grew up with, along with most of your family, almost like a tradition.

Your grandfather would play classical songs from his mini caravan radio that someone had gifted him early in the mornings, which you’d catch some of before hurrying off to school. Now that you were older, however, you appreciated much more of the music. And Jean just so happened to love them with you.

Despite not knowing anything about the music, Jean still hummed along, warming your heart ten times over. He didn’t know the words, but still managed to hum in a way that was accurate to the original music, his deep voice complimenting the highs of the song perfectly.

You smiled a little. The music changed, playing 'radha kaise na jale' from Lagan.

“oh my god I love this song,” you said, turning the volume a little higher.

You swayed your hips as best you could to the song, mouthing the lyrics.

“what’s it mean?” Jean asks, smiling along with you, a stray piece of his hair visible on his forehead. You brushed it away, making sure not to disturb his driving, as you explained what it meant, immediately jumping into a mythology rant. How krishna, a young reincarnated god, would “innocently” make radha, a princess and also coincidentally a reincarnated goddess, jealous by dancing with other gopis (female villagers). You also gave him the entire plot of the movie Lagan.

You didn’t know that by the time you were finished, you were two songs from the original one which made you rant in the first place. you had also reached your location.

You breathed a bit. “I loved that song as a kid. I still do, obviously.”

“obviously.” Jean echoes with a smile.

His usually sharp eyes were soft as they looked at you. he reached out to adjust the mogras in your hair, the scent of which was filling the car up completely.

“oh! The payal.” You exclaim, your hand diving into your purse to find where you kept them.

They were gold and had bells that didn’t make too much noise; just enough for you to feel like you were walking on sunlight. They had small carvings of tiny gold flowers, delicately placed evenly apart from each other. Your mother had bought them last year for your birthday.

“let me,” Jean whispered, and with the music playing, you could barely hear him. he gently took the payal from your hands, inspecting them as you propped your foot up on your seat.

Jean glanced at your face.

How the fuck did he get so lucky?

If Marco had never spotted you across campus, waving you over to Jean and him, he would’ve never known about your existence. He wondered now how he’d even live without you, without your messy hair, cup of coffee in your hand, somehow juggling a snack, books, and said coffee in both your arms.

Marco had mentioned something about you being in one of his classes and study groups, but Jean was too busy staring at the coffee stain on the corner of your shirt.

“im usually more put together, I swear.” You had said.

Looking at you now, yeah. You were a little more put together. But that didn’t matter because he had seen you almost passed out at the library from exhaustion and still be in love with you, even if his mouth was chastising you for staying there so late without any food and breaks, his mind was running around in frantic circles thinking about you, and how he’d been so glad to find you after spending almost three hours looking for you, and how he would now get to share a late drive-thru meal with you, and how he’d get to put you to sleep, and he felt his heart constrict when you refused to let go of his green sweatshirt after he had talked you to sleep, how he felt his heart completely fly away from his body and probably into your arms as you snuggled close to him after he placed a small kiss on your forehead.

As friends. How was he so stupid?

Of course, not long after that night, he asked you out. It was raining, you were sipping coffee again, he was having a blueberry muffin. You two had taken solace under the front of a café, the side of his shirt was completely wet. But it didn’t matter because you had been smiling, your hand infront of you as you caught a few drops of rain on to your hand. He asked you why you called him jaan and not Jean, why you pronounced the 'j' in his name harder than anyone else did. You told him it meant life in hindi, and he gripped your waist and pulled you in for a kiss, soft and gentle and passionate and so... you.

And despite the cool weather, he had felt warm.

He placed the payal in his palm, gently moving your foot covered with tights on his thigh.

You let out a soft breath as the song changed.

If your twelve year old self would see this, she’d squeal. Hell, present you were squealing internally.

He gently clasped the first payal around your foot, as he motioned for your other. Your eyes didn’t leave his hands as he worked, softly brushing away the fabric of your lehenga, thumb and index finger working in perfect unison.

He clasped the other one. Despite your gaze being locked on his hands, you didn’t make a move to leave after he was done.

The melodies of the song intensified as you looked up, finding his eyes already on yours.

The gold in his eyes was shining with the reflection of the lights from outside. His hand rubbed circles on your calf as you shivered, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek.

A stray strand of his hair escaped onto his forehead again, despite being subtly gelled back. You leaned into his touch as your hand brushed away the hair, trailing to cup his cheek too.

“I love you,” he whispers, his eyes narrow a fraction, glossing over a little. You tilt your head further into his warm hand. How his hand managed to stay warm while yours were a literal block of ice, you didn’t know. What you did know, however, was the fact that he would usually entrap your hands into his own as an excuse to warm them up. when you were just his friend, you knew he was simply using your hands being cold as an excuse to warm them up with his own hands, holding them as he shrugged his jacket onto your shoulder despite your complaints of not being cold.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, kissing the palm of his hand.

He leans in then, his warm breath fanning on your face as he kissed you. his hand leaves your calf and rests on top of your kneecap, while his other hand rubs circles on your cheek, and you swear that you’ve become plyable putty in his warm hands. You pull away only a little, to see his eyes.

They're shining. You don’t control your smile, which makes Jean kiss you again, not caring about your lipstick transferring onto his lips.

His forehead rests against yours, as his hand makes your way to the back of your neck, careful not to mess up your hair. He rubs circles there, in his Jean Kirstein way, and you resist the urge to cry and ruin your makeup.

The song changes.

He whispers another “I love you.”

You are late to the wedding, not as late as your mother, as you re-aply your lipstick in the bathroom mirror.

The bells on your payal tinkle as you walk back to your jaan.

---

translation(s):

tujhe yaad kar liya hai aayat ki tarah - I've kept you in my mind like a promise.

i didn't put more Hindi/Urdu sentences cause i didn't want non hindi/Urdu speakers to feel left out :')

[softeninglooks]

attack on titan | here’s to dreams

they deserve all the happiness in the world 🥺

There it is. Glistening under the showers of bright sunlight, bluer than anything they’ve ever seen. Crystal clear, lapping the sandy shore in a peaceful flow back and forth, ceaselessly humming its melody of murmurs for whoever would be willing to lend their ear to its soft tune. Infinite, reaching out to the horizon. The sea. Armin had dreamed of the day he would see it; and now, there it is. Right before their eyes, within their reach, big and blue and free from any limit. The sea.

But Armin doesn’t get much time to indulge in the melancholy surge of joy that pierces through his heart—watching the sea, alongside his best friends, is no time for solitary contemplation. Rather, the grin that lights up his features is just as bright as the glimmering waves that wash over his feet, leaving a cool imprint upon his warm skin. Mikasa and Eren smile back at him, their feet equally plunged beneath the surface of the sea, and the only thing that manages to break this unspoken connection—too deep and strong between the three teenagers to be understood by anyone else—is the sudden cry that comes from the rest of their comrades:

“Ugh! What the hell is this?” Jean’s body is shaken by a fit of coughing, the boy’s dripping cupped hands giving out enough information to guess what just happened. “Why the fuck is this water salty?! That shit’s undrinkable!”

“Wait, really?” Conny is about to try the experiment himself, but Armin is quick to interfere:

“Wait, don’t! It really is not drinkable. It’s salt water! You get salt out of it,“ he explains with a sorry smile, preventing his comrade from giving it another go.

“Huh? Salt water? How’s that even possible…” Jean mutters, wiping his tongue on the exposed skin of his forearm while suspiciously eyeing the water down below.

“Everything’s possible outside the walls, right, Armin?” Eren replies, beaming, and all those things the blond boy had once told him about with stars in his eyes come flooding back from beneath years of yearning for revenge and eagerness to fight. There’s nothing quite so beautiful as the smiles on the faces of those we love most—those who stick with us through thick and thin, until the end of the world.

“Yes!” Armin confirms excitedly, remembering word for word what he had said to Eren back then. “Water that glows like fire. Fields of ice. Giant rocks that take days to climb… The world must be full of wonders.”

“I hope they don’t all try to kill you like that salty water…,” Jean adds sulkily, but his features bare the traces of a certain curiosity, too.

“First rule: don’t touch anything you’ve never seen before,” Captain Levi’s placid tone warns them from the shore, especially targeting Hanji, who’s picking up some kind of chiselled shell brought by the tide. “Careful, it might be dangerous.”

“What could it be…?” Hanji watches the object unknown to her with close attention, cheeks flushed from excitement as her fingers run over the glossy mineral it is composed of, trying to make sense of it. “It doesn’t look like anything I’ve seen before.”

“Proves my point,” Levi grunts back, still not venturing toward the water, though he does keep staring at it in awe as soon as everyone’s heads turn away from him, their gaze captured by the endless horizon expanding before them.

“Don’t you want to join us?” Hanji presses on cheerfully, disregarding the Captain’s wariness, and earns an exasperated sigh in response—however, Levi steps closer, inspecting a few other shells scattered in the sand. “See, they’re not doing anything!” She holds up her own shell, shimmering in the palm of her hand.

A little further away, knees deep in the water, the rest of the Scouts are not quite as meek as the Captain and the Commander. Having quickly adapted to this new bewildering environment, discovering things they had never seen before as they go, Conny and Sasha’s energy radiates more ecstatically than ever before—save for that time the Scouts had been offered meat for dinner, which promptly led Sasha to losing her mind—, even dragging Jean along into their schemes. Before he knows it, his two other friends are grabbing him by the arms and waist, attempting to push him into the sea with a great deal of giggles.

“Get off me!” Jean is desperately trying to wriggle himself out of Conny and Sasha’s grip, all limbs struggling for a way out, which only ends up in the three of them losing their balance—with a loud splash, the trio is sent head first into the water, their bodies diving in entirely.

"You idiots!” A completely soaked Jean emerges from the water, gasping for air, while Conny and Sasha are evidently having a hard time to both breathe and laugh at the same time; even Levi cracks an imperceptible smile from behind Hanji, who doesn’t refrain from chuckling at the teenagers’ misbehaviour. In the end, Jean also gives in, letting out a chuckle in spite of his reproachful glance at Conny and Sasha as he runs a hand through his wet hair. Nevertheless, he won’t surrender so soon. “You’re going to pay!” Jean yells, suddenly tackling his friends, which sends the pair flying back into the water.

But Jean’s evil laughter doesn’t get much time to assert his victory either—Eren, creeping in from behind Jean’s back, has been carefully plotting his coup.

“You didn’t see that coming, did you?” the brunet boy exclaims triumphantly, making Jean topple over with a shriek of surprise.

“At this rate, they’re going to drown themselves,” Levi observes calmly, watching from afar all the racket going on in the sea.

Hanji spares a glance at the Captain after a few second’s silence, a nostalgic smiling hanging over her face. “They deserve a little fun.”

And, indeed, the group’s screams and laughter fill the maritime wind with unconstrained light-heartedness, rising toward the sky—something they haven’t felt in days, or even months. Right now, they’re nothing but teenagers, mischievous, foolish, and happy teenagers, who don’t care about a thing in the world but who’s going to duck under water next.  

“You were right, Armin.” Mikasa says kindly, turning to Armin, and her dark eyes shining with emotion she can’t hold back. “The sea is beautiful.”

Armin can only nod back, smiling so hard that tears begin to blur his vision—smiling so hard he feels like his chest will be torn into pieces from the breath of happiness he gets from watching his dream come true, surrounded by the people who mean to him just as much, and even more, than the sea itself. They’ve made it this far. Eren, Mikasa, Jean, Conny, Sasha, Hanji, Levi—and Erwin, who must be looking down on them with pride like no other. And there is the sea.

“Hey, guys? Let’s get stuck in these good times forever.”

[getoswhore]

‘ CATTLE ‘N CREAM! — jean kirschtein.

☰ ft : farmer! jean x cow girl! f! reader

+ synopsis : jean is very adamant about being a responsible farmer with his cattle, and he never misses the very important day when they need milking... | est. 1.7k wc

cw/tw : sws + modern/farmer au, lactation kink, pussy drunk! jean, nipple play, lots of titty sucking :o, ‘lil manipulation ‘cause he's a lying perv, reader is a human/cow hybrid, pet names (jean calls reader cattle + sweetheart), praising, creampie/half cum shot, cum eating, this is kinda filthy and a little rushed at the end...

+ note : yesyes, ik–WE all know that i don't write for aot anymore :c but this was always one fic i RLLY wanted to post, sooo yeah :c also, @gabzlovesu ‘cause ik you were rlly excited for this :c + @jeanslove since she asked so nicely. <3

a ringing clap of bell peals roll through the sleeping farm like thunder; the singing metals clinking together as if their sound was twirling through the old ridden barn walls like alarms. and soon, the sleeping silence was quickly replaced with rising animals of all kinds mewing out in hunger, impatiently waiting to be fed.

with lazy eyes fluttering wide at the sudden racket to awake and prepare for a busy day, a clear view of new daylight unwraps its hues to the world through the small garden window ahead of you. it's still dim, but the plum rays peeking through the mountains tell you it's that time of the month again. you can even feel it too; a sudden sharp ache tingles in your chest, feeling more notable every time you move in your soft bed of golden hay, sensing your perk breasts feeling heavier and fuller, almost firmer too...

and all you can do is weep out in silent pain, waiting impatiently for when the farmer comes over to your stall–for when jean can dump the soft pallets of grass into your personal trough before you can show him your issue.

the palms of your hands and naked knees kiss at the golden floors before quickly rearing yourself up–fast and eager, hearing the familiar soft clicks of heavy feet make their way towards your stall.

widening eyes peering up in elation; muddy boots with farmyard muck stuck beneath them appear into your sight. and you catch glimpse of the freshly laundered coveralls fitting nicely around the tone of his thigh–the torn denim even fitting tight to his chest.

“mornin’ sunshine, how's my favorite little cattle doin’?” jean gives a warm smile, a bright one too with pretty teeth and with the fat of his cheeks rising high.

but seeing the small pout fixated on your features makes him frown.

“whats wrong? somthin’ bothering you–oh...”

he notices, quite quickly.

“already needin’ milking, huh? thought another week or so...” jean stares with wide, dilated eyes; a heavy gaze viewing a clear sight of your perk tits filled all round and full, almost too full where one little squeeze can make them leak.

he kneels down to open the small gate between you two, unlocking the locks and freeing an open space. jean gets close soon as he does, kneeling in to get a better look.

“poor girl, must be in so much pain being all filled up like this.” he kicks over a metal bucket close by, and you prep yourself up, getting eager and ready, knowing the tension is going to release...

“hm, must be extra sweet with them being this firm.” and he doesn't hesitate to test that theory; reaching an eager hand out with all five lilthe fingers curling around the soft mound of flesh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

like he had thought, a dribble of milk leaks through the thin, printed fabric you wear; the milky substance soaking through and a dark wet spot spreads around it, making you hone out. and he quickly glides a thumb over the hard pebbled peak pressing wetly against the cloth till he deemed enough.

jean pops his thumb into his mouth, tasting the sweet liquid soothe against his taste buds with savory delight.

he hums, “this is why you're my favorite, always sweeter than ever.” his soft words are like auditory caramel to your ears, rushing a perky smile to rise at your cheeks.

“yeah, ‘n that pretty smile of yours is my favorite too.” jean could feel his coveralls becoming a size too small by the second; his cock beginning to throb and pulse, erecting at just the pretty view of your half-naked body glowing before his eyes.

“alright, let's get you ready.” you lean in, letting the farmer clip his fingers around the thin stings of your bra and letting the fabric tumble down till it freed your perk breast. and your breasts bounce, jiggling down at the sudden release of your support as a cold shiver licks up your spine at the sudden slick breeze kissing at your skin.

jean’s leafy eyes couldn't peel off of the pretty view of your breast, boggling at how the pebbled peaks leak with fresh milk–ready to drink and savor...

and it made his mouth water.

“ya’ don't mind if i take one more little taste? just a little.“ jean gives you a gentle look, eyes almost droopy and filled with need.

you nod.

he's quick to latch both hands around your firm breast, clipping eager fingers around the tough skin and tugging lightly.

your throat bobs as you whine out, weeping at the slight pull, yet it felt so delicious; feeling more of your built-up liquid slick out and pebble around your hardened nipples before drooling down.

before collecting against his tongue.

you were too focused on the needy hands squeezing at your soft mounds and not on how jean nudged his face between your breast with a flat tongue sticking out long and ready.

he's never done this before.

it made your back arch with hooded eyes to glaze with euphoria, watching how he lapped at the sweet juices you gave to him with licks and broad, rough stripes across your perk nipple.

it made you feel... special to be treated like this, to have such appreciation...

jean leans back, feeling you twitch in his hold, “squeezing just hurts ya’, i think i know a way to ease the pain a lil’?” his tongue swipes over his bottom lip, catching the little droplets clinging at his skin.

head tilting in enthusiasm question, you wonder and he's more than ready to show you.

his mouth splays open wide with a wet velvet tongue laying flat to press against your hardened peak as he leans back in, drawing your nipple at the center hard into his mouth.

it's warm, wet, and foreign as his lips seal around your sensitive nipple, giving it a good suck till it fell in drops; milk practically pouring out with ease into his watering mouth. and jean was more than delighted to swallow down the honey-like beverage.

the soft hum he emits in satisfaction vibrates around your soft bundle of nerves, and the suckling sounds did something to you, deep inside you–those filthy, wet sounds rang in your ears as you watched how jean tenderly cradled your perk breast. you were just as entranced as he was nursing and lapping at the trickling juices, feeding off the sweet taste like a hungry little calf himself.

deep down, you wouldn't even be able the fathom the idea of how long jean has been thinking of this moment–ever since he’s got you–ever since he’s added you to his little farm, he's always fetishized this sick little scenario of sucking on your tits till milk spilled since day one...

jean squeezes your other desolate breast, pinching a thumb and forefinger before gently twisting in a half circle, forcing your whole body to shudder at the pull. it makes your skin spike with goosebumps, toes to curl and pretty eyes to knock to the back of your head.

it's addictive getting that response from you.

he can feel you tense up beneath his hold as he licks and sucks softly at your hard, sensitive tips back and forth between your nipple, and areola, and even the flesh around that, earning more of a delicious squirt of milk that quickly disappears across his tongue.

jean was so far gone too that the tent pitched in his coveralls went completely unnoticed–if he had been paying attention, he’d realize that his swollen cock was pearling with oozing pre and leaking just as much as your breasts were...

jean hesitates to pop off for a breather, but when he does, the cold lingering feel makes you whine out in need, and he almost felt bereaved when he did too.

his mouth was wet with translucent white, a pretty view of a slick shine gathering at the plump of his lips.

“fuck–taste so fuckin’ good.” his words are barely even words, only breathy and lost–too dazed at the fever dream coming to life.

“‘m wanna–fuck–wanna pump my milk into you, fuck you full with my milk? yeah? how does that sound? give you some of mine...” jean was fumbling over his words like the fingers fumbling over his gold-plated buckle.

and you can feel your cunt leaking at this point; pretty pussy pulsing a damp spot to form a little circle of slick and feeling the cool air hit against your cow-printed panties.

you groan, muscles flexing and cunt clenching desperately around nothing hungrily as you watch jean unzip his jeans desperately. embarrassingly, it takes him a few tries, too focused on the way how you lean back for him; pretty body lying still on your back with teasing legs spreading wide, breasts stretching out, pulled by gravity, everything seeking the centre as you cast your whole body open to him.

he curses at himself, almost drooling at the clear view of your pussy; the fat outline of your lips pressing hard against the thin cloth.

it makes his heavy balls tighten.

jeans throbbing cock finally bobs free from his confines; it's pretty, you think, a blushing pink at the crown, long and thick with bulging veins pulsing around the shaft, and oozing pearls of pre spills over, shining his tip raw with cum.

it twitches in his hand that fists it tightly and eagerly–giving it a long and quick stroke with a firm twist to the tip, and squeezing more of his pre to drool out sloppily.

you moan out nimbly at just the sight.

“like it baby? yeah? gonna like it more once i fill you up.” jean tugs aways at your panties, making view of your pretty pussy and gazing deeply at how it drools in marbling slick.

“such a pretty little cattle–my little cattle.”

he nudges the crown of his cock at your sopping entrance, already nudging himself between your slippery folds with greed. and he's quick to pull your legs around the slim of his waist as your bodies eagerly find the places where they need to meet; his heavy cock pressing in slowly till he couldn't anymore, filling you up in one swift motion of his hips buckling hard against yours.

your jaw hinges open, mouth left agape at the raw feeling of skin on skin–of his cock barreling deep into your cunt to the hilt.

enchanted at the soft touch of silken skin and harsher hair bumping against your puffy clit as he quickly finds a rhythm, a cruel one too, almost sloppy and uneven, but enough to make your mine trance off into a complete and utter mind-boggling daze.

your slick juices gush out by the intrusion, the slop of it drooling outside your little hole as he drags his cock into your inner gummy walls. jean groans out a pitiful moan, the sloppy mess of your pussy already creaming a translucent milky ring around the base of his cock makes his hips stutter, and eyes to even widen in fierce feral intent.

your breast bounce along in sync too as you roll eager hips to urge him in deeper–harder. and his mouth comes down between your jiggling chest to thank you with wordless kisses; suckling bites into the tender flesh as he rocks into you harder.

feeling the deep press of the crown of his cock kissing at your softest spots made not only your cunt to leak, but your breast to as well. a cute fall of milk pours down, even making a flow down to the middle of your tummy.

“fill you back up all nice and full f’me.” jean can feel his cock pulse as each thrust–at each heavy contact your skin clashes together with.

ankles locking behind his back as you clench, arche, twist, and writhe beneath him, you can feel him throb, deep. feeling how his aching cock grows bigger as he gets closer, his knot fixated only to fill you up till it was deemed.

thrusting his hips faster, he bottoms out with the final buckle and let's out a long and deep guttural moan as his cock spurts out thick ribbons of warm cum deep into the womb of your cunt. and he tries, he really tries to keep moving his hips to drag out his high, but instead slips out like a dog in heat–popping out of your little drooling pussy and cumming all over your tummy.

jean desperately tries his hardest to slip back into your warmth, but his body curls, hunching over at the stomach-churning high as a pitiful puddle of his sticky mess pools onto your skin.

he sucks in a deep breath through gritted teeth, “i want–you gotta swallow this up, its good f’you, promise...” he's already grabbing your sweating, shaking hands to swipe up the globs of cum and breast milk sticking to your tummy to wipe up.

“lick it up–promise it'll be good for you, promise...” jean’s eyes are barely open, only a small peak of them can be seen through the thick of his lashes.

and your still trying to catch your breath, but the eager man prying your own sticky webbed hand to your mouth makes it impossible.

parting your swollen lips, you lap between your fingers, tasting the mixtures of salt and sweetness stick to your tongue and melt into your taste buds as you feel his thick cum leak out from your stretched little hole.

it's filthy, but it makes jean’s cock throb back into wake...

let's all support the good farmers–the ones who are passionate about their herds.

[songsofadelaide]

Call it Magic

Jean was, in every aspect, the perfect guy to bring home for your family to meet— handsome, polite, honest, respectful and responsible to a fault. Your family liked him so much that he became a staple on every occasion, never mind you at all. Jean liked them as much, thankfully.

You can live with the fact that Jean will never see you as nothing more than a childhood friend. You were perfectly content just being at his corner, not at all speaking of your unyielding fondness for him. Middle school, high school, university and work never changed how you felt for Jean Kirschtein, but he's always had his heart set on someone else.

So when the chance to finally move on from him presents itself to you, you decide to finally take the very first step, one which you should have taken a long time ago.

In which you ask your childhood friend Jean to become your plus one to a family occasion for one last time, and all of the chaos and clarity that ensues afterwards.

[A Jean Kirschtein x Reader AU one-shot]

tags: lawyer!jean x author!reader, alternate universe - no titans, modern setting, childhood friends, aged-up characters, unrequited love (but not really?!), angst and romance, no use of yn wc: 8.8k.

"In the end There was only one. Isn’t that how it is for all of us? There's that one you circle back to —  for home." — Redbird Love by Joy Harjo  

— First rain of summer.

You knew back then that being a new kid in a new neighbourhood wouldn't be easy. 

When you first moved into the suburbs of Trost when you were only nine, the Kirschteins were the first ones to bring your family a housewarming gift. They were your typical friendly family who liked getting to know the new neighbours as soon as they moved in. Your family was no different from every other house they've made a connection with.

Mrs Kirschtein was a lovely conversationalist. She gave you one look and estimated you were around the same age as her son, who stood dutifully between his parents as they chatted with your own. "Jean-boy, why don't you introduce her to your friends?"

"Haa? But she just moved in! Shouldn't she help her family with unpacking?" Came the shrouded complaint from the brown-haired boy. Jean was a tall and lanky nine-year-old but the look oddly suited him. 

"It's all right, we can handle things here," your mother beamed at the boy before giving you a gentle push in his direction. "Go and make friends, my sweet girl."

Jean shrugged as he took your hand in his and urged you to follow him, a smug grin on his face as he led the way to the nearest playground in the area. "Looks like I'm your first one. The name's Jean!"

You gave him your name in response, only for him to nod in affirmation that he remembers it. 

"Strange, but not in a bad way. It suits you," he replied. "My friends are kinda strange, too, but they're good kids."

He didn't lie when he said his friends were pretty strange. The first question Sasha— the girl with the pretty brown hair— ever levelled at you was, "Hey, what's your favourite food?! Mine's barbecue!"

Connie's initial reaction was even more unexpected, especially since he anticipated another boy to move into town. Instead, there was you. "A-A girl?! No way! I'm not ready for this! And she's c-cute, too!"

"Knock it off, you two! She just got here and you're already so annoying!"

Their familiar bantering could only mean they're closer than they let on. By the time Jean was done arguing with them, you had the warmest and most amused smile on your face. I could get used to this.

"It's nice to meet you," you beamed at them. "I hope we can all be friends!"

"I did say I was your first, so here's two more," Jean shrugged once more. "Welcome to the club or something."

That was the beauty of childhood friendships further unveiled. It didn't matter if they only knew you for a couple of minutes. Sasha and Connie were awfully kind to you and never made you feel out of place at all. Jean always kept a watchful eye on you at school as well. Whether he did it out of duty or out of worry— you'll never know for sure.

When you look back at your childhood summers, they were often characterised by Connie's boisterous laughter, Sasha's sundried sweets and snacks, and Jean, the very first friend you made in a new neighbourhood. He was an easily likeable boy who had a soft spot for you, not that he'd ever admit it outright, though. You liked his abrasiveness, even considering it part of his charm. 

And you still like him as much twenty years later. He made moving in and fitting in so easy, after all. 

— Rust and Stardust.

~ twenty years later.

"You know, Zeke is going to have my head for this." 

The slender figure who stepped into your space at the office pantry could only sigh as you finally looked up at her. The subdued whirring of the coffee maker only sounded not long after she arrived.

"Pieck! Good morning!"

"Don't you greet me a 'good morning' like everything's normal," the brunette crossed her arms over her chest, slightly wrinkling her neatly pressed pale blue blazer. "Why haven't you responded to Zeke about his offer?" 

It was as good as any other day, but you knew it was only a matter of time before Pieck, of all people, started to chew you out because of your indecisiveness. Though if you were being completely honest, the offer made to you by your editor-in-chief weighed heavily on your mind. 

"It's not that I haven't considered it," you sheepishly replied before letting the sound of coffee droplets fill the air in the pantry. "I've been thinking about a lot of things lately." 

Twenty years have passed since you and your family moved to the suburbs of Trost, and four years since you graduated from college with a Bachelor of Arts in Communication. You quickly landed an entry-level role at the then-underground homegrown magazine The Eldian Synergy and eventually rose to the rank of Managing Editor— partly due to your writing skills and partly due to your friendship with Pieck Finger, who introduced you to the eccentric magazine editor-in-chief, Zeke Jaeger. 

Surprisingly, the older Zeke was thoroughly impressed by the fluff pieces you continuously brought to his table, though he knew you were capable of writing more insightful pieces. As your team of editors grew from just a handful of ragtag writers to an echelon of executors only after the most excellent beats, so too did the magazine readership— and it's now reached the point where an expansion is at hand.

"Investors have made their intentions clear. I believe we should give this a go," he told everyone as you were all gathered in the office a few weeks ago. What was once a spacious studio for just the original five of you was now a cramped office for every member of the editorial team. The place was lively, vibrant and well-lived, and every wall has heard every word or breath of the heart of the whole team. To leave it now…

"If you're worried about the future of the magazine, then you really should go with Zeke. The whole point of this move is to expand our influence. I'm sure I wasn't the only one dreaming of a second branch— and overseas, too!"

"You'll be going too, won't you, Pieck?" 

"Naturally! I am the Synergy's Creative Editor, after all!" The brunette exclaimed with a proud little puff of her chest. "Zeke will leave operations here to Porco. It's been a long time coming, too, seeing as he's been his assistant and long-time protégé for quite some time now. Colt will also be helping out."

"I dunno… Don't you think there should be at least one of us to stay here with them? It's—" You fumbled for the right words to say, though it was already obvious to Pieck that you were masking your real intentions.

"I know what this is about. You're so reluctant to leave because of this. I am saying this to you not just as a colleague who wants you to think for herself for once, but as a friend who wants you to choose yourself for once," Pieck said with a subtle click of her tongue, and perhaps a little hint of disappointment. "Isn't it about time you stopped choosing someone who isn't choosing you?" 

Good grief, you groaned inwardly. 

You can live with the fact that Jean will never see you as nothing more than a childhood friend. You were perfectly content just being at his corner, not at all speaking of your unyielding fondness for him. Middle school, high school, university and work never changed how you felt for Jean Kirschtein, but he's always had his heart set on someone else. 

With Jean now a newly-minted lawyer, it was only a matter of time before he started working on building his renown and reputation. 

He and Mikasa took the Bar Exam together, you thought. Then again, so did Armin and Annie and Marco, too.  

You filled your cup with the freshly-brewed coffee and suddenly realised you made too much— Too much for just one person because Jean always had coffee at your place every morning and this must have been a force of habit, but who was going to drink this? Who else was going to choose you?

Not Jean. Not Jean again. 

"You think I don't know that yet?"

— I will never ask you for anything except to dream sweet of me.

When you, Jean, Connie and Sasha first spoke about college and university in the summer of your last year in senior high, it became clear to you that Jean was far more ambitious than he actually let on. He lived for arguments and investigations and relished proving himself correct. It only made sense for him to take up law, but Mrs Kirschtein found the thought of her son feeding her with 'money bloodied by crime' absolutely repulsive.  

"Mother wouldn't let me take political science, so I'm changing my trajectory a little," Jean stated. "First, I'll take up Business Administration, then, boom— Corporate law."  

"No criminals, just corrupt businesses," Connie pointed out. "You'll still be defending bad guys no matter what you do."  

"And he'll do a great job at it. It takes one to know one, after all," Sasha snorted. "As for yours truly, I might take up Hotel and Restaurant Management! My parents have always been big with hospitality stuff, so I thought I might give it a try as well." 

"And you aren't just doing that for the good food that your hotel or restaurant might serve in the future?" It was Jean's turn to laugh. 

Sasha elbowed him. "Hey, the food experience will definitely be part of the job!"  

"And if anyone needs some floor maps drawn, for their law firm or hotels, you can always contact your resident architect," Connie stated with a grin so bright as he jerked his thumb on his chest. It didn't take long for him to elbow you as well. "You've been awfully quiet. Plotting any grand plans for college or uni yet?"

You could only smile as you looked down at your clasped hands. For some odd reason, you felt like Sasha's bedroom shrunk awfully small, but you gradually came to realise that you and your childhood friends have grown up ever so slightly. 

Eighteen. All of you were just eighteen and yet it felt like your friends have their lives planned out for the next decade. 

"I've always liked writing, so I guess I'll keep on writing?" You said with a little shrug. Though if you were being honest with your friends, you'd say their ambitions scare you a bit. You didn't think about college hard enough to actually want to earn an esteemed title of sorts. Communication Arts was as good a degree as any other, and you liked that you didn't have to solve any maths problems, too.

"Oh, yeah! World-renowned author in our ranks, too! Not bad!" Connie nodded, a thoughtful hand on his chin. "Oh, man. Just the thought of us achieving all our goals excites me. The goosebumps are kinda gross, though."

"Yeah, yeah, the future's cool," Sasha shrugged before sitting back more comfortably. "More importantly, I want you guys to promise that we'll stay in touch. Not that you really need any reminding at all, but just to be sure."

"You don't need to say that twice. I'll always be around, you dumbasses," Connie chuckled. "Drawing up plans for houses in the neighbourhood."

"Someone's gotta keep this place free from troublesome people, so…" Jean stated with a nonchalant shrug that seemed more a show of confidence. "And where else will we all meet but your ritzy hotel with amazing food?"  

"Yeah, I-I'll write all about it, too," you piped in. "I mean I think people will trust my word by that time, so…"

Lawyer, hotelier, architect, and author. The prospect of achieving such heights in the future terrified you, but with your friends so sure about their goals, you felt it was only right to be optimistic about things. They were all doable, with hard work and maybe a bit of luck.

Eleven years after that very promise was made, Jean refuted that luck played a role in his passing of the bar. All of it was him. Surprisingly, Sasha was the very first one of your friends to get engaged— to a world-class chef, no less, as though the universe was providing her with all the vital pieces for her endeavours in building your city's fanciest hotel. Following his apprenticeship with Ragako Restorations, Connie was on his way to starting his own construction company, though it was only from the backyard of his childhood home.

Years have passed and the promise made to stay in touch with each other proved pointless since you all bunked in the same apartment complex. Your respective circles may have expanded, but home remained the same, with Sasha always cooking, Connie bringing over one too many drinks every after-exam period, and Jean raiding your coffee maker to the point where he's become part of the caffeine budget as well. 

Your friends from your youthful days all have a foothold on the goals they manifested years ago. And while you haven't published a single book yet, you grew a following with your work for The Eldian Synergy by releasing fluff and cream pieces that were a hit with locals both young and old. 

The magazine's readership was big and its reach was incredibly wide, and a lot of young women looked up to your advice columns and articles as a Holy Grail, a bible to follow as they tackled their own relationships head-on. 

Funny how you seldom followed your own advice, with your feelings for your very first friend still unspoken after all these years.

Jean's magnetic personality brought through a number of admirers and would-be girlfriends, but he had a policy of prioritising his studies before starting any relationships. 

One stood out, though, since Jean can't seem to get her out of his mind no matter how hard he tried— Mikasa Ackerman. She was friends with Eren Jaeger and Armin Arlert, who was friends with Annie Leonhart and Marco Bodt, who was friends with Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover from the Architecture Department… And so your circle of friends expanded on and on. Once a tribe of college and university kids— now adults— in pursuit of goals made manifest. 

When your blockmate Pieck Finger first approached you after hearing your verbal essay on the immortality of the press, she had a look in her eye that said she struck gold. You proved her right after you won over both Zeke Jaeger and Porco Galliard, the founding members of the college's Press Club. 

While each of you has carved out a place for yourself, the peace that comes with having Jean, Sasha and Connie around was a feeling unlike any other. 

As your mother's birthday approached, so too did the dread of having to invite your childhood friends back home. Invitations were easier when they weren't being tormented by the busyness of adult life, but with Sasha planning her wedding, Connie launching his construction firm, and Jean about to take his oaths after passing the Bar Exam, you expected the idea to be rebuffed at best. Not that you really minded at all.

Except Jean wasn't busy on that day. His oath-taking wouldn't be until the next three weeks. 

"What? I've been waiting for you to personally invite me even though Aunt Cara already called me," he stated from across the table as he drank his freshly brewed cup of coffee. "I know it's always been us four, but…" 

But now it was just the two of you, and your throat felt awfully dry right now. If this was fate's way of telling you to shoot your last shot or let down your hopes gently, by granting you one last trip with Jean, it truly was a convenient but awfully cruel set-up. 

One you willingly walked into yourself.

"Well? Whaddya say? Road trip? Just like old times." He chuckled. 

Jean was, in every aspect, the perfect guy to bring home for your family to meet— handsome, polite, honest, respectful and responsible to a fault. Your family liked him so much that he became a staple on every occasion, never mind you at all. Jean liked them as much, thankfully.

How the hell could you refuse?

"Sure." 

Were you, though?

— Take me back to the night we met.

Jean's car, a reliable orange Hilux he's had ever since you all started college and university, was always filled with rambunctious laughter every time it was time to go home to Trost for the summer break. The lack of noise and storytelling from Sasha and Connie didn't worry you at all, and this isn't the first time you'll come home with just Jean, but the prospect of opening up to him about your decision to move to Marley did fill your chest with some trepidation.

Looking back, the longest you've ever been apart from Jean was during your week-long writers' camp in your junior year in college. And his oddly overprotective self still insisted on seeing you off and picking you up afterwards even though the Press Club had transportation provided by the college. 

Jean and Sasha picked you up in that very same truck when you called her in tears following the end of your very first relationship that very same year. 

It was still the same "squad car" with a smaller, modified squad since it was just going to be you and Jean. Gosh, just how many adventures and misadventures did you have in that car?

You were on the landline phone with your mother the night before her birthday and your homecoming with Jean.

"I already talked to Sasha and Connie about it earlier this week," you started straight after the pleasantries with your parents. "I told them I have a really good feeling about this new job. They're supportive, like always." 

"And Jean?"

"I'm… not quite sure how to tell him yet. I'm sure he'll be thrilled for me," you said, absentmindedly wrapping the curling cord over a finger. "I'll probably tell him while we're on our way home tomorrow."

"Oh, my sweet girl… Have you told him about how you felt? I know it's been so long and…" Your mother said with a soft sigh. "If you're still mulling things over, just remember… He deserves to know just as much as you deserve to be free."

When your mother first teased you about your feelings for the boy next door when you were just a girl, you nearly yelped at her to keep it down. Now that you're an adult and more honest with yourself and with your mother, there was no need to jump any hoops and deny what was already blatantly obvious to her.

"I'll… find the time to," you nodded to yourself, as though assuring yourself you'll be all right. 

—

You were not all right. 

Jean was apologetic for making you reply to the messages of his bar mates while you were on the expressway to Trost, but there was little he could do to ease your motion sickness now that you have passed through every possible gas station you could have taken a break at.

"All right, all right, I'll call Marco and tell him we're on the road. They can bother me later," his larger hand gently pried his mobile phone from your grip. "All this talk about an afterparty when the oath-taking is still next a few weeks out… Even Mika's annoyed. Hey, recline your seat and close your eyes."

"I'm fine, Jean," you softly insisted. "Besides, I need to stay awake so I can keep you—"

The Hilux gradually ground to a halt as he pulled into a lay-by, unbuckling his seat belt so he could reach over to adjust your seat. "Please. I shouldn't have made you reply to all those questions so I could get a quiet holiday."

With his figure draped over yours, his scent was quick to stick to your clothes as well. He always smelt of citrus and cedar and it never failed to send signals to your brain that you were home.  

"Take a nap. I'll wake you when we're home," Jean stated as he tenderly brushed his palm over your eyes, prompting you to lower your lashes. He ran his fingers through your hair and made sure you were rested before eventually driving home. "I'll be sure to buy some Dramamine the next time we have a road trip."

Oh, but I have something to tell you. I'm not even sure we'll have a next time. You wanted to open your eyes and speak because there was so much you had to say, but all you could think of was home and your mother's embrace. However, the urgency of the issue mattered very little now that you were lulled to sleep by the air conditioning and the smoothness of the expressway. 

Jean in his beige pullover, his cologne that smelled of citrus and cedar, his gentle humming to the songs playing on the radio— if you were dreaming, you didn't mind sleeping in a bit more, because this was surely the calmest dream you've had in a while now.

I'll talk to him about it later was the last bit of consciousness you could recall before eventually dozing off for the rest of your road trip. By the time you awoke, Jean was already pulling into your driveway, giving you very little time to react and adjust to your surroundings. Your parents were already excitedly waiting at the front porch to welcome your arrival. 

"Here they are! My sweet girl and our Jean-boy! Come! Come in!" Your mother was quick to let you go after your embrace as she hurriedly ushered Jean into the kitchen. "Here comes Trost's newest lawyer!"

Apart from always proving himself right, Jean also relished in praise and admiration and there was no lack of it in your house. It was pretty much his second home in the neighbourhood and he remembers running to your place whenever he had arguments with his mother. His parents weren't there yet, but his every whim and word was indulged by your mother, who handed him a hefty serving of freshly-cooked Paella.  

"There he goes," a defeated sigh left your lips as Jean vanished into the kitchen with your mother and aunts. "Then again, he's always been so popular with everyone at home."

"Not everyone," came your father's response as he gently smacked your head with a rolled-up copy of the latest Eldian Synergy. 'On Goodbyes and Seasons of Waiting' was the title of your last article, and it was carefully bookmarked, obviously read more than once. "Your last one was a good read. More discerning than your usual pieces. Wherever you go, I'm sure your writing will move more people. You pour your soul into everything you pen, after all."

"Thank you, pa," you smiled at the older man, to which he responded with a kiss on your forehead. 

"While you're here, be sure you don't leave anything important."

"Of course."

Anything important, huh? Were your feelings for Jean important enough that it warranted a proper conversation? Of course they were, but only you would gaslight yourself into thinking they didn't matter and it wouldn't matter if you left even without saying a word to him. Should I just leave without saying anything?

By the time your mother and aunts were done talking off Jean's ears, he found you staring at the photos that lined the hallway leading to the living room. Your parents' wedding portrait, slightly faded pictures of you and your siblings in your childhood, some of their graduation portraits… and tucked in a corner was a photo of little you, Jean, Sasha and Connie on your 10th birthday, some little bruises and baby teeth missing, but it radiated the same comfort and happiness you've been so accustomed to most of your life. 

"Hey, bestie! Do you remember this?" You couldn't help but giggle as Jean approached you. You caught the rest of your laugh in your mouth when you saw the graveness of his expression. 

"I heard you're leaving town for work."

"What?" Oh. You felt your pulse quicken at his inquiry. "Who told you that?"

"Aunt Cara did."

"Good grief," you groaned, a hand now over your eyes. "I… was supposed to tell you about it a little bit later." You couldn't say that you were truly thinking of not telling him at all, now that he looked so bewildered by the revelation. 

"I'm confused. Was I not supposed to know about it?" He asked, visibly perplexed by your statement. "Don't tell me you were planning on just straight up leaving without telling me at all."

"I… was," you said plainly, figuring there was no use hiding things now that he knew, anyway. "But look, you know about it now, so let's just say our goodbyes, okay, Jean?"

He stood there completely immovable, piecing two and two together in his head— the hushed conversations you've been having with Sasha, the muted discussions about foreign accommodations with Connie, one elbowing the other whenever they made a slip of the tongue about flying and Marley, of all places.

"So that's what everyone's been whispering about…" The confusion on his face melted into a look of pure hurt. "The gang knew, didn't they? Was I the last one to know about this?"

"Jean…"

"You not telling me things, especially something as important as this… I don't understand. We're best friends, aren't we? Please make it make sense! You're leaving so soon and I had no idea!"

You pursed your lips to a thin line, averting your gaze from the sad look in his eyes as he unknowingly backed you into a corner of the hallway, far from your family's bustling and merriment. With his arms pressed to the walls, there was no escaping his brokenheartedness, the very thing you've been avoiding from the start.

"Is it because of me?"

His question prompted you to look up at him, his brows furrowed in gentle frustration. "No, Jean… It's not you." 

"Why won't you tell me what's wrong?"

"Because there's nothing wrong," you shook your head. "Look, the job offer's great. I still get to write about whatever I want, just in a different place… Zeke wants our writing to overcome the world and I… I'm just trying to help myself the best way I can."

"Will… Will Porco be there?" Jean asked, almost sounding embarrassed. The question may have seemed out of place in your conversation, but you knew exactly what he was thinking of at that very moment. 

"No, just me, Pieck, and Zeke. Porco will be managing things here at Eldia. You know my relationship with him was good while it lasted, but we broke things off when we realised that we were better off as friends. And while we're still co-workers, I can assure you that there's nothing…" Your voice faded as your explanation continued. Why were you even explaining this to Jean? 

Oh. Somehow you felt your face heat up as Jean slowly stepped away from you, now that he's heard what he wanted to hear. It always did please him whenever guys gave up on you, but you never really understood why. If he wanted me, all he had to do was say so. Then again, he was always so quick to draw the line between you two whenever things started feeling different than usual— when he'd rest his head on your shoulders a minute more than what was considered appropriate, when he'd reach for your hand whenever it was just the two of you in the room, only for him to drop it as soon as his blockmates showed up, and when he'd laugh at Sasha and Connie's insistence that you two should date each other— 

You could feel your chest tighten as you stood there motionless, as though your ribs were crushing your lungs, pushing your heart up your throat. 

It can't end like this, you thought. He deserves to know just as much as I deserve to be free.

"Porco was a good guy, but he… he wasn't you," you started, trying to quell the quiver in your voice. "And you always told me to come to you whenever I had any guy problems, right? But did I ever? No, because there's no one else I liked more than you, Jean. I've always felt so at home with you and you've always been the centre of my world, and I want to tell you so many things and spill my heart out to you like I always do, but I can't do that anymore—"

"What?" Came his confused response once more. "You…"

You only realised that you were sobbing when you tasted salt on your lips, with fat, stinging tears rolling down your cheeks. You raised a sleeve to your runny nose, taking a step back as he attempted to reach for you.

"I like you, Jean," you stated before swallowing your own cries. "I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you for the longest time, but what the hell, right?"

—

The car ride back home was awfully quiet and Jean couldn't blame you for wanting to sleep during the entire trip instead. 

Friends since nine, inseparable ever since. Your families were as good as your own with how often they saw you two together, and it only dawned on him now how hurt you must have been every time they commented on your relationship and how he always offhandedly rebuffed any deeper involvement with you. 

And after nearly 20 years of friendship, you finally confess to him, only for you to leave just as soon as you gave voice to the depths of your affections.

At a stoplight by the border exiting your hometown, Jean noticed how you forgot to put on your seatbelt before leaving the party. Placing the gear on neutral, he reached over and pulled the belt over your sleeping form and buckled it down for safety. The corners of your eyes were puffy after all that crying and he understood how it must hurt a lot for you to even just look at something, so he just let you sleep.  

The weight of his own obliviousness lay woefully dense on his shoulders. How could he have been so blind to all of this? Then again, you were a master of restraint yourself, and Jean couldn't help but trace back the steps you took together— the path you walked alongside each other— when you decided to become friends nearly two decades ago.

And if by chance he did notice the flowering feelings you had for him, what would he have done? Either way, he couldn't picture a life without you by his side. 

You, who was present for most of his life, a figure he closely acquainted with the feeling of home. Jean believed you would be a permanent part of his life and things would never change between you even in the future. But that future was happening before his very eyes and it wasn't as he imagined back then. How could he have been so cruel to you?

You, who always left your window open so you could listen to his endless prattling about the divine Mikasa Ackerman. You, who only dared to date one guy all your life, only for Jean to rebuff him by claiming he wasn't good enough for you. 

Deep down, maybe Jean did know. Maybe he was aware of how you felt. Yes, he must have known it somehow, and that might explain that awful, gnawing feeling of entitlement he had over you. He must have felt it in his gut before, and all that talk about guys not being good enough for you was just him holding you back with his own entitlement and insecurity. You… were probably just as divine as Mikasa in his mind, but you were his most precious friend. You were off-limits even to him. 

You, who came to your senses one day and decided that enough was enough.

Jean tried to keep his mind from wandering away any further by attempting to focus on driving since you were nearing the expressway anyway. He slowed down and gave your sleeping form one last look, his arm already halfway from brushing his knuckles against your warm cheeks, only for him to eventually pull back. 

All your lives, you orbited each other as celestial bodies would in the sky, close enough to hear each other's heartbeats but never really fully touching. For once, he wanted to touch you as you were, not under the guise of a protective friend who wanted to shield you from every harm and hurt that may come your way.  

He must have known you were holding out hope that he would turn your way and see you not just as a friend, but… Why did the prospect of your relationship taking a different turn scare him? Why did he have to turn your way now that hope has been lost to you and everything was now out in the open? 

No, you didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve a lukewarm love at all. You deserved someone who would love you with all of the warmth and fire in their being, and all Jean had now were embers barely sparking a blaze.

"That's enough, Jean," he murmured to himself, shaking his head as he gripped the steering wheel once more. "I'm sorry."

And it was only right for him to finally set you free.  

— Rain[fall] over tormented cities. 

A week has passed since your trip home with Jean. Sasha, though officially moved out of your shared apartment, decided to stay for a while given the state you were in when you got back. Her fiance Niccolo would also come from time to time, cooking the most amazing dishes in hopes of lifting your spirits. By the time you were ready to return to work, the couple was about to make their exit from the apartment as well. 

"I can't thank you enough, you two," you pulled them into an embrace which they happily returned. "Nicco, I don't know how many pounds I've gained, but what can I say? Totally worth it."

"We're a little busy with stuff at the moment, but you know that we'll always have time for you," Sasha replied, taking your hands in hers. "See you in two weeks."

"I'm so glad you enjoyed the food," Niccolo said, a twinkle of goodwill in his golden eyes. "If I may… While I haven't known you all since childhood, I think I do know you guys well enough to have a pretty clear idea of what just happened."

Sasha squeezed your hands in hers. You squeezed right back, smiles on your faces as you nodded at her fiance to carry on. 

"Jean loves you in his own way, I'm sure you're aware of that," he clapped a hand on your shoulder. "And you love him in your own way, too, yeah? Might not be on the same degree, but I'm certain neither of you would want to lose that love, regardless of whether you just see each other as just friends or something more."

He's right. More than anything, you seemed to miss Jean more now that things are out in the open. Were you truly content just leaving without even saying goodbye to the person most precious to you? 

"But you know, I was all for you admitting your feelings to him. Sasha here told me not to instigate anything. Jean might have just reciprocated if he knew. Call me a dumb romantic, I guess," Niccolo said with a smile and a shrug. "But please… Don't leave things as they are. You two have known each other forever. I doubt your younger selves would have liked this."

—

On the other side of town, newly-minted lawyers Jean and Marco had just concluded a conversation that ran for several days given how inconsolable the former was when he returned from Trost. 

"And she hasn't reached out since, huh?" Marco asked from across the restaurant booth, their black coffee untouched for hours. "Though she's already contacted Sasha and Connie. Speaking of Connie, he said he'd drop by—"

"Damn right I'm dropping by," said the newly-arrived bald guy, taking a seat beside Marco so that he was facing Jean as well.

"Why're you even coddling Jean so much, Marco? Let him feel the weight of everything," Connie stated as he called for a waitress. When Jean met his gaze, he could only shake his head in response. "What, you idiot? She finally went and said it after 20 years. Did you seriously think nothing would change between the two of you now?"

"Did you… know about it?" 

"Everyone in the room knew except you, Jean," Connie sighed. "You know, it was pretty aggravating how you were so oblivious to how she felt for you. You always chalked it up to our long friendship even though it was already blatantly clear that she cares for you more than anyone else."

"Why didn't anyone think about pointing it out to me? Was I really that oblivious?" 

"It wasn't our place to… to pry open a girl's feelings when she had no intention of letting you know. Not directly, at least," Marco stated. "She cares for everyone, but it was pretty clear she had a favourite."

"That's Jean and his entitlement," Connie replied. "That time she dated Porco, you and I saw how he did absolutely everything for her. For once, she was happy with a guy that wasn't us. But I knew that something was up when he opened up about the way he felt in their relationship… like he was competing against some unseen creature." 

Jean couldn't help but lower his head, dropping his eyes to his coffee as he tried to avoid his friend's claims. 

"Let me ask you something, my dumb little friend. Did it ever occur to you that she could have been absolutely happy with someone else if not for her great affection for you? She almost…" Connie shook his head. 

Your past relationship with Porco Galliard was a Pandora's Box you never wanted to open again. Now that Connie jimmied the box open, it forced Jean to confront the very same demons he sought to hide from everyone.

"I… I thought I was the one who knew her best. I was her best friend, after all. But that was the thing: we were best friends. Could I really afford to shatter something so important? One word could change just about everything."

"And how did you feel when Porco was doing just about everything you did for her when they dated?"

For Jean, it was simple. Simple yet complicated. "Why couldn't that be me?"

"Damn right, that could have been you!" Connie exclaimed, pointing a finger at his childhood best friend. "Don't give me this bullshit about our friendship changing overnight just because you two had feelings for each other either didn't want to acknowledge. It was going to change regardless and it was up to you two to make sure that things hold—" 

The small ping from Jean's phone lit up his screen, cutting through the conversation and drawing their eyes to the single notification that appeared across his wallpaper.

[𝚢𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝 ✨: 𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔?]

"…?"

Jean and Marco were startled when Connie bolted from his seat and slammed his hands on their table. "Don't just sit there, Jean! Reply to her text! Better yet go say you'll see her now! For goodness' fucking sake, talk things over with her before it's too late!" 

— It's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender.

It was just like any afternoon after a day at work, but seeing Jean jog towards you as you sat on one of the stone benches in the park just outside your apartment made you feel like something truly has changed. With your most well-kept secret out in the open, it was only natural that the silence between you two was rather awkward. It used to be comfortable. However, in the quiet of that afternoon, part of you also felt absolutely freed.

"Hey."

"Hey," he replied, slightly breathless. 

"Did you run all the way here?"

"I… I did," he exhaled before finally taking a seat beside you after you gestured for him to. 

"I wanted to talk to you about that thing I missed the chance to tell you last week. Our editor-in-chief Zeke invited Pieck and me to start out in a new office in Marley. We have investors backing this expansion and Zeke wants to bring along his most trusted people with him," you started. "It's not a permanent thing, but the three of us will have to make base there for a while. You know, to build up readership in the country, find people to fill roles… Basically to run the office like we did when the Synergy was just starting out."

"I see. Sounds like you got your work cut out for you," Jean stated, slowly sitting back. "Which is why I've been thinking…" 

"Ooh, how dangerous. Jean using over 10% of his brain could only mean trouble," you replied with a laugh. Surely your friendship with him hasn't changed so much that you wouldn't be able to joke with him just like always. "Kidding, kidding. What's going on in that brilliant mind of yours?"

Jean fell quiet, a pensive look on his finely chiselled yet rugged face. He unclasped his hands and reached out for yours. "This might sound crazy at first, but what if I try to find a law society in Marley? I know I'll have to take a certification exam of sorts, but—" 

"You can't be serious about this, Jean," you stammered, nearly pulling your hand away from his grasp in indignation. 

"I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He pulled you right back in. "I thought you'd be happy—"

"Jean, listen to yourself a little. Your plan is crazy! And the last thing I'd want is for us to get together now because you feel sorry for me and my unrequited love for you," you playfully bumped shoulders with him, only for you to rest your head on his arm. "I… chose to love you regardless of everything. It's not your fault you didn't like me that way and it's nothing to pity, either. I was just being honest, after all."

"What am I supposed to do now, then? My best friend is about to leave and I…"

When he opened his hand to release yours, all you could do was lay your palm over his own, smiling at the difference in their sizes. Hands that have led you everywhere whenever you were together.  

"I think your best friend would want you to choose yourself because lately, she realised that all you've ever done was look out for her," you said softly. "Even though you like another girl."

"You mean Mikasa, right? I—"

"You don't have to explain anything to me, Jean. I don't need it."

The two of you sat there, a brief moment of silence before he asked.

"When's your flight?" 

"On the 17th." 

The 17th. "That's my—"

"Your oath-taking ceremony, I know. I'm sorry I can't be around for that," you replied with a small smile. "I know you'll do great. As for me, I'll manage. No need for you to worry about who'll take me to the airport since Sasha and Nicco offered to, so I'm all covered."

"I see," he nodded. "Don't worry about my oath-taking, too. Connie said he'd be there. I'm actually more worried about you and your flight."

"Don't worry about me too much, okay? Have a little faith in me."

"I'm sorry… But you know I'll always worry about you. It's like a job at this point in time now. Call me the CEO of worrying about my best friend," he chuckled, slowly turning in your direction to see the very same softness and fragility that endeared you to him from the very beginning. "I'll miss you." 

But when you turned to him, all he could see was the strength in your unclouded gaze as you looked into his brown eyes. "And I'll miss you. Terribly."

Your facade finally broke when his long arms drew you into a long and tight embrace, your steely resolve crumbling in his hold.   

"I love you, Jean. Always have," you cried into the crook of his neck. "Thank you for letting me choose myself first this time."

"And if you were to ask me After all that we've been through "Still believe in magic?" Oh, yes, I do. Of course, I do."

~ ten months later.

"And after nearly a decade of dating each other, hotelier Sasha Blouse and cruise ship executive sous chef Niccolo [Abbandando] have tied the knot at their beloved passion project, The Hunter Hotel and Resort, in the presence of their beloved and adoring family and friends. That very place stands as a testament to the couple's fidelity to each other and to their community, a place where people from near and far can gather to take a break from the intricacies of their lives and indulge themselves in amazing food meticulously prepared by an executive sous chef of The Founding Queen…" 

Still decked in her elegant wedding dress, Sasha could only squeal in delight at the piece she read from the latest Eldian Synergy, where you wrote an article to commemorate the opening of their hotel and restaurant and their wedding. "Beautiful. This is a work of art!"

"I'm so glad you liked it, Sasha," you replied as your newlywed best friend pulled you into an embrace. "Congratulations. I hope you and Nicco have a blessed and blissful married life."

Following the church ceremony was a wedding reception at The Hunter Hotel and Resort carefully planned by the newlyweds. The menu was composed of many of the bride's favourite meals prepared by the groom, including wood-grilled barbecue, lobster tail with smooth mashed potatoes, and banana creme brulee.  

While you and Jean walked down the aisle together as a bridesmaid and a groomsman earlier, your short conversations were mostly made up of pleasantries and silly banter that was commonplace in your friend group.

The reception was gorgeous, perhaps a tad bit too excitingly lavish for Sasha's tastes, but seeing her guests enjoying the celebrations made her extremely happy. However, in the midst of the merriment, one of the bridesmaids in emerald green was scribbling away in a corner, coming up with the next big hit for the local magazine.

"Are you perhaps the Managing Editor of The Marleyan Synergy? I could've sworn I've seen your face before," a familiar voice cut through your thoughts, a wine glass filled with sweet rosé gently pushed in your direction. From across the table sat one of the groomsmen in a pressed white dress suit, his golden necktie tastefully loosened.

"I'm pretty unforgettable if you ask me," you replied, setting your pen down on the table. "How have you been, Jean?"

"Been good. Handled a few cases here and there," he nodded at you. "And you?"

"Been good," you echoed, your serious facade slowly breaking as your painted lips curled into a smile. "Come on, Jean. It's not like we haven't been talking through text and on Facetime for the last ten months."

"Haha, you're right, you're right," he beamed at you. "Did you know that Mika knows your editor-in-chief? She calls him 'big brother'. When she mentioned it just recently, I was only able to make sense of it now."

"You didn't know that Eren from Connie's block in uni was Zeke's little brother? And that he and Mikasa were childhood friends?"

"That was a finer detail I missed. If this were a case, I probably would have tanked it. I always wondered why Eren hated my guts. Hated how I was always around Mikasa in general," Jean laughed. "I suppose it takes one to know one, making us cut from the same cloth. It was just like how I disliked your ex-boyfriend hanging around you all the time."

You watched how his expression changed from pensive to hopeful, a twinkle of wonder lighting his brown eyes as he steadily held your gaze. 

"I've made my peace with Mikasa, if you're curious. Turns out that girl's been hiding some serious feelings for her childhood friend, too. Funny how our common ground both became our launching pad to reach into the unknown," he started, not at all missing a beat. "I just wanted to say that I've never felt sorry for you even for once when you finally made your feelings known to me. More than anything, I felt terrible that I couldn't respond to you in the way you deserved. I was so scared of things changing between us that I tried to deny it."

"Jean…"

"You know, I got the scolding of my life when I came home to Trost after my oath-taking when my ma heard all about what happened between us," he said with a low laugh. Yes, Jean vividly remembers the way his mother hurled the Yellow Pages at him after he opened up about your feelings for him and how he had such a hard time determining how exactly he felt for you. 

"How could you be so blind, Jean-boy? You could be Trost's finest lawyer, but you're sloppy with your relationships! You always looked at her like she placed the sun in the sky—"  

He determined that he could go a day without even seeing the lovely Mikasa, but it always drove him nuts whenever he never saw you. And between you and Mikasa… he was pretty damn certain your conversations were always more fun. That was the beauty of knowing someone forever, he thought. Everything seems natural at this point in time.  

"I'm certain about what I feel for you now. And I'm not asking you to get together with me yet. That would be asking for too much too soon. If it's all right with you, maybe we can start—"

Wait, what exactly is happening? Somehow, the noise of the party was drowned out by Jean's confession, one that came a little bit late but still came regardless.

"From the very beginning?" You interjected, your smile uncontrollable at this point. 

"As friends."

"We already are, remember?" You replied, slowly getting up from your cushioned seat. "Are you still afraid of things changing between us?"

He followed suit, shaking his head at your question. "Not anymore."

That corner of the party was yours. That very moment was yours to make as well. Standing beside you in that very corner was the very same Jean you've been hopelessly in love with for the last 20 years. Only this time, you weren't so hopeless anymore.

"Good. I suppose doing this wouldn't bother you anymore."

You slipped your hand into his and gently tugged him down your way for a kiss, one that tasted of sweet rosé, a little bit of courage, and absolutely no regrets. 

"Twenty years is a long time, Jean. Are you really sure you want to start things over again?" 

There he saw it, the warmest and most amused smile on your face, the one he's always liked. From the very start.

"Now that you mentioned it, I think you're right," he said, his smile as wide as yours now that your embarrassment broke through your feigned confidence. "Wanna go on a road trip or something?" 

"Oh?" You quirked a curious eyebrow at him. "Where to?" 

"Home." 

But with your hand in his now, there was no need for any road trips. You've been home the very first moment he pulled you close, all those years ago. 

*Cue Sasha's bouquet toss and reader catching it because it was specifically aimed at you lol.*

Author's notes: Hello! Before everything else, I just wanted to say thank you for picking up this fic. It's one of my newer works and has a very special place in my heart. After a lot of thinking, I decided to crosspost this fic here on Tumblr and I am hoping it will receive just as much love here. ♡ — I use "Otome" as a placeholder for "Y/N" because I thought it looked much nicer in the stories I write. The term "Otome" is from otome games, or maiden games, and in this piece Otome would literally mean maiden, or Maiden-chan, which pretty much means Y/N. — I initially had something in the works for Levi back in 2021. I never really got around to developing that one and instead shifted my focus to Call it Magic. I think boyfriend material x lawyer Jean is pretty neat! (He also kinda reminds me of my own boyfriend.) I didn't actually include a lot of lawyering here since I actually have no idea. I recall my boyfriend wanted to take up law before but his mother didn't like it for the same reason I wrote here lol. Unlike Jean, he didn't exactly pursue it in the same roundabout way. I have very little to say about this except apologies for the angst, and this may or may not be the last time I write something for Jean. Hopefully the right inspiration strikes and I find the motivation to bring out another fic in the chiller lol! ~ Mari / SongsOfAdelaide ♡

✦ Original Tumblr post ✦ AO3 link ✦

[chrollohearttags]

asked on anon first but i still wanna know how da first meeting of ej the don and j kirschtein went 🤞🏽

lmfaosvsjs and I had just saw that anon. But we all know some shit went down because Mr. EJ got a slick ass mouth and Mr. Kirschtein has an even shorter temper so that’s a lovely combination. 😭 they first met during a festival that AMG was putting on to showcase some new artists and Eren was just starting out at the time. He had only ever worked as Vivian’s pianist and mentee up until that point. But his debut single, First Degree and his EP, Living Dead Boy had blown up on the underground scene was gaining a lot of traction online so they put him in as a performer! Meanwhile, Jean’s new band, Ateiler Kiss were the headliners. He was AMG’s golden boy, earning record breaking profits so he was feeling himself a lil’ bit. Not to mention, he was sleeping with one of the top stars and next heir to the throne at the time, Mika ASH. One night, they were all backstage. EJ was talking to Armin when Jean walks up and makes a remark, basically calling Eren a glorified stage hand and baybeeeee, it was up from there!! 😭 EJ from that point never took his foot off his neck. “C’mon dude. He’s not worth it. He’s probably just joking.” “I don’t give a fuck because I’m about to have a good laugh.” He let him get up there, do his thing..even congratulated him on a good set. It wasn’t until a week later when Eren shot his second music video; poolside at the Hard Rock Cafe surrounded by beautiful women..including one of his best and oldest friends, Mikasa. Who could be spotted bent over during the line of his song, AWeekendAtBernies: “you can hate me all you want, guarantee your bitch likes me.” Winking directly into the camera, just knowing he’d be watching. Also shows him a Jean lookalike being pushed from a building. Needless to say, Mika was pissed that they had put her in the center of their little dick swinging contest and the fact that he’d insinuated they fucked. “Jean, please don’t make me laugh. That manchild? Please, I could do much better than that if I was going to cheat.”

now, every time they see each other, they on go. Staying at each other’s throats and making slick comments. “Jean, you bastard. I didn’t think it was possible but you get uglier and uglier everytime I see you.” “Says the walking jumpscare himself. I’ve seen piles of dog shit that look better.” They can’t attend one meeting together without lunging at each other so there’s always extra security in case one of them takes it too far. When (y/n) first met EJ and told him that you were dancing for Jean’s tour before, he was upset because that asshole would undoubtedly hold it over his head and brag about it. You and Mikasa even tried forcing them on a double date which led to them both throwing insults at each other. It was a mess.

[corner-stories]

What do you think of this prompt: Captain and CommanderAU! + Mama Kirstein and baby Kirstein?

*rubs hands together* I'll give it a shot (ao3.)

Maybe she's biased, but Mikasa thinks that of all the people who have held Baby Ash in his short life, his grandmother might be the most gentle.

Connie had been nervous, nearly shaking as he held the infant in his arms. Sasha was similar for the exact opposite reason, having been so excited to see the child that her hands trembled. Armin was a happy medium, holding the baby with on his first step to being a good uncle — and had he made it this far Mikasa wonders if Eren would done the same.

Arielle Kirschtein is in her own league, holding her Baby Ash with the kind of tenderness that only a new grandmother can. At this age Asher still resembles an adorable blob with black hair, yet he looks so comfortable tucked into Arielle's grandmother — like he would be content to stay there forever.

Considering how little sleep Mikasa's been getting in the past few months, she can't say she blames him.

She and Arielle continue to sit across from each other at the kitchen table. Surrounding them are the walls of the Kirschtein household, and outside of that is the city of Trost, a place that's never managed to slow down despite all it's been through. It's more peaceful than Mikasa remembers it to be, though it's still a far cry from the corner of the woods she and Jean have retired to.

As Mikasa takes a sip of her tea, she hears Arielle remark —

"He really does have his father's eyes."

She glances over to see the older woman balancing her grandson on one arm. With the gentlest touch Arielle moves a stray strand off his face as he looks back at her, staring blankly as most babies tend to do.

As sweet as the scene is, Mikasa's first instinct is to shake her head.

"No, I'd argue he has yours." She puts her teacup down. "Jean's eyes are warier."

Arielle smiles as she sighs. "That's my Jeanbo for you. Always looking at the world in his own way."

And in a way they're both right. Baby Ash's eyes are hazel, just like his father's — the kind with just the slightest specks of green. It's a stark contrast to the black of his hair — light against dark, warmth against cold.

Seeing how it already reminds Arielle of her son, one can only assume that the resemblance will grow with time.

At the same time, Asher lacks the cautious way Jean looks at the world, though that it might have something to do with him literally lacking the depth perception. He's only a few months old, after all.

But Mikasa doesn't mind, because for the time being Asher doesn't need to be anything else to the world but another person living in it.

Feeling more content as the day goes on, Mikasa takes another sip of her tea.

Then not a second too soon Jean arrives to the first floor of the house. He makes the short walk from the bottom of the stairwell to the kitchen. His bedhead is slightly messier than usual, perhaps a testament to him getting the most rest he has in months. Both Mikasa and Arielle were keen on letting him sleep in, as a treat.

After letting out a yawn, Jean manages a smile as he enters the kitchen, eyeing the ladies and the baby at the table.

"You're not talking about me, are you?" he asks jokingly.

Mikasa shakes her head as she puts her teacup down. "Of course not, Sweetheart, that'd be ridiculous." Her voice is dry, playful.

Jean lets out a chuckle at the same time his mother does, then heads to the counter to get some tea for himself. He only gets as far as pouring the extra from the pot into a cup before Asher turns his head towards him. At this age the child is beginning to recognize the faces of his parents, and it's only now when Mikasa realizes that he can do so over short distances.

Asher lets out a little gasp, which manages to sound utterly adorable despite that being the noise he makes when he wants something he can't immediately get. With his eyes on his father he reaches over as far as he can, his little hands waving in Jean's general direction.

It doesn't take long before Asher's little exclamations turn into cries, his default state whenever the thing he desires is slightly too far from him.

Arielle runs her gentle hand across her grandson's forehead. "What's wrong now, Sweet Boy?"

Asher lets out a few more cries before Jean turns around, his eyes going tender as he walks over to the table. He doesn't hesitate to take his son from his mother and scoop the baby back into his arms — suddenly Asher's little moment of distress fades away now that he's safe in his father's embrace.

"Hey, Ash, what'cha doin'?" Jean asks, holding his son securely. "Giving grandma a hard time?"

Mikasa lets out a hum, one that expresses a feeling of content. "I think he likes you too much."

"Yeah, he can't get enough of me," Jean laughs, then eyes Mikasa. "Just like his mother."

And to that, the light backhanded tap she places against Jean's leg is nothing less than playful.

[soleilnomoon]

feels like summer™ 06 — magna swing x y/n (tipsy shenanigans, nsfw)

feels like summer™ 07 — doflamingo x y/n (just doffy being obsessive & the absolute worst, nsfw)

feels like summer™ 08 — gojo x y/n (he’s not that into her, except he rly is; nsfw)

feels like summer™ 09 — killer x y/n (a lil fluff, a lil angst, a lil smut)

feels like summer™ 10 — rayleigh x y/n (rayleigh standing on business, nsfw)

feels like summer™ 11 — nami x y/n (hurt/comfort, nsfw)

feels like summer™ 12 — crocodile x y/n (soft smut™/fluff)

feels like summer™ 13 — law x y/n (romanz, hurt/comfort)

mudano naito x y/n — spoiled heiress & household manager au (angst/nsfw, request)

zoro x y/n — edgelord shenanigans (nsfw, request)

katakuri x y/n — finally reveals his face to y/n (angst/fluff???, request)

law x y/n — pregnancy (nsfw/fluff if u squint, request)

law x y/n — getting caught™ (slight angst/nsfw, request)

lucifer x y/n — just one big angst fest 💛 (angst angst babey, request)

nobara x y/n — frenemy lovers & pumpkin patch shenanigans (angst/fluff, request)

law x y/n, zoro x y/n— firsts™ headcannons (nsfw, request)

law x y/n — princess bubblegum/yandere vibes (angst, request)

zoro x y/n — jealousy pt 2, zoro’s turn (nsfw, request)

zoro x y/n — aphrodisiac pt 2 (nsfw, request)

zoro x y/n – exes angst fest to the max (angst, hurt/eventual comfort, request)

ch. 2 for all the devils are here (arranged marriage au, aki x y/n)

ch. 4 for enfin, je me revéille (college au, eren x y/n)

izou x y/n — cursed mirror au (angst, hurt/comfort, a lil horror maybe)

smoker x y/n — brat tamer (one-shot, nsfw/angst)

lady(bug) killer pt 2 — benn beckman x y/n (angst, hurt/comfort, nsfw)

vinsmoke ichiji x y/n — ficlets

nanami x y/n — modern au, mutual “unrequited” pining; estranged hs friends 2 eventual lovers (slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, romanz).

ch 2. for papillon (yamato x y/n — enemies 2 lovers)

robin x y/n — lament pt 2

levi x erwin — misdirection pt 2

jean kirschtein x y/n — best friend’s sister au (short series)

snk/aot street racer/drrr vibez au

gojo x y/n — reality tv/competition au pt 2 (angst)

rayleigh x y/n — angst, nsfw, maybe fluff, hurt (no comfort bc i said so) series

erwin x y/n x levi — angel/demon au

sanji x y/n — rival kingdoms au

wolfwood x y/n — priest au, but make it fashion *tyra*

howl x y/n — art world au

nanami x y/n — detective/thief au (lights, camera, action); (angst angst babey, mordor, enemies 2 lovers)

niji x y/n — island gyal/city boi au

doflamingo x y/n — pastries & blue skies pt 2.

eren, jean, erwin, levi, etc. & y/n — heist au

kyouya x y/n x mudano — modern au/new neighbor, old childhood friends (but only one remembers the other)

fuegoleon x y/n, nozel x y/n — academic rivals au

[fromriches-tosin]

Silly me for thinking this could have been a one-shot.

The Lost Boys

status: 2/3

ship: Reiner Braun/Jean Kirschtein

what: angst

warnings: canon-typical violence and gore, some character deaths, a pinch of Stockholm syndrome and Zeke

summary: When the Scouts lose the Battle of Shiganshina, Jean is left at the mercy of the Warriors.

sneak peek:

It’s three days until their graduation, and Jean can’t sleep. Maybe it’s the excitement getting the better of him. Instructor Shadis hasn’t made an official announcement yet, but Jean knows he’ll be one of the top ten graduates – just his ODM skills were enough to secure him a spot among the elite, but his other grades leave nothing to be desired. He’s no Mikasa Ackerman or Reiner Braun, but Jean Kirschtein knows his shit. Thus, a clean room and a comfortable bed are waiting for him in one of the safest districts the Walls have to offer.

No more having to share the quarters with a bunch of smelly troglodytes. No more having to deal with Eren fucking Jeager. Soon. Soon this vision is going to become his reality.

But for the time being, Jean is stuck in a barrack with other twenty nine cadets. Someone is snoring in the background, and a certain suicidal maniac keeps muttering about the Titans in his sleep. Jean grits his teeth, fighting the overwhelming urge to place his pillow on Jeager’s ugly mug and end his measly existence.

“If those monsters don’t get to you first, I’ll kill you myself,” Jean barks, turning on his side.

Someone farts loud enough to wake the dead, and Jean clenches his fists. Just three more days.

He changes his position again only to decide that he needs to pee. Sighing with exasperation, he gets down from his bunk. Below him, Marco is dead to the world; sleeping as soundly and peacefully as only someone with the conscience of a saint can. Maybe the beer Jean shared with him and Thomas after supper wasn’t the best idea. It’s definitely that runt Wagner snoring like a bear now, and by the looks of it, Jean will spend the rest of the night like someone suffering from cystitis.

At least Bott is getting a good night’s sleep. What a fool. He was soo scandalized when Jean brought the alcohol. Once the two of them join the Military Police, Jean will teach him how to have fun. How to live a little. Jean cackles quietly to himself, rubbing his hands together like an evil fly – oh yes, corrupting the sweet, sweet Marco Bott will be fun.

continue reading: ao3

[nininikki]

ATTACK ON TITAN MASTERLIST

EREN JAEGER

↳ ONE-SHOTS

PRETTY WHEN YOU CRY. — SUMMARY: love had never made you feel this shitty before. CW: toxic relationships, lots of angst, implications of sex, alcohol consumption, vomiting, reader & eren are in college, (doesn’t play a huge role, but it’s implied) eren is very toxic, reader is also very stuck, i love mikasa, but she’s not very great here haha (don’t kill me pls) WC: 2.4k

HEAVEN SENT. — SUMMARY: you absolutely despise biochemistry. good thing you’ve got the perfect tutor. CW: nsfw, smut! porn with plot, male masturbation, eren’s a nerd & an absolute loser in this (it’s so hot), reader’s a lil mean, dom-ish reader, sub-ish eren, dry humping, tiny bit of nipple play, finger sucking (idk what else to call it?), oral sex (m!receiving), reader’s a bit of a tease, face fucking, little bit of clit play, unprotected, penetrative sex (piv, wrap it up guys!), riding. WC: 4.4k

SHADES OF COOL. — SUMMARY: you hated him. god, you hated him so so much, and were just desperate to move on. or were you? (part two to pretty when you cry, which can be read here.) CW: nsfw! toxic relationships, lots of angst, alcohol consumption, some oral sex (f!receiving), choking, fingering, finger sucking, unprotected penetrative sex (piv, wrap it up!!), clit slapping, dacryphilia, squirting, cum play, cum eating, cheating, smoking, eren’s still so toxic and reader’s still so stuck :( WC: 4.6k

HEADCANONS: ROCKSTAR!EREN. — SUMMARY: a little bit of what eren jaeger would be like as a rockstar. CW: mentions of sex/sexual relationships, mentions of drugs (cocaine), genitalia piercings, brief mentions of toxic relationship behavior. WC: 331

↳ SERIES

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MR. PRESIDENT. — SUMMARY: you meet eren jaeger and the two of you fall in love almost instantly. the only thing in your way? he’s married. oh, and the fact that he’s about to become president. CW: nsfw! age gap (reader is 29-30, eren is 39-40), black fem!reader, heavy heavy HEAVY infidelity, established relationship (eren is married) politics and government talk, mentions of pregnancy, infertility, and trying for a baby, manipulation, mikasa’s kind of mean in this story (i’m sorry), mentions of sex, eventual sexual content/smut, handjob, alcohol consumption, mentions of jean x reader. WC: 11.2k

JEAN KIRSCHTEIN

↳ ONE-SHOTS

CLASS RANK. — SUMMARY: nothing in the world feels better than beating jean kirschtein. except maybe fucking him. CW: jean and reader are rivals, insults, fencing (🤺), reader’s kinda mean to jean but he’ll be fine, hate sex, somewhat rough, bit of nipple play, hair pulling, brief handjob, mirror sex, slight clit play, finger sucking, choking, degradation, name calling (slut), orgasm denial. WC: 2.6k

CONNIE SPRINGER

↳ ONE-SHOTS

SAY, AHH. — SUMMARY: you love having connie in your mouth. CW: mentions of phone sex, oral sex (m. receiving), face-fucking, dirty talk. WC: 0.6k

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

catch up post for those that care, a bit of my personal life a bit of fanfic planning

sorry i haven’t been active—one side of the internet took over from my other side of the internet. i’ve been playing so much everskies lately (lysdoll if u wanna add me!)

i watched all of attack on titan and got into super nana after being very not into anime for all my life (i haven’t finished nana yet so no spoilers but hachi feels a bit like my own younger self/a bit like my y/n character) i loved aot besides some imperfections, i might post my thoughts in depth sometime. i wish we got more backstory on founder ymir and other lore, and i’m trying to keep my crush on jean <3 from my bf lmao

i turned 21 on the 3rd and my parents got me a new laptop! my old laptop that i wrote fic on was from pre covid my sophomore year so uh. very very old and laggy, which i think contributed to me having some issues writing. hopefully will be tackling these projects soon, in no particular order:

-next chapter for Lovegod U137A (one ending from my main Rick x reader fic I Only Have Eyes For U137)

-next chapter for Welcome to Feeling U137B (the other ending from my main Rick x reader fic I Only Have Eyes For U137)

-U132Fast (2Fast2Furious inspired rick x y/n one shot? very still wip)

-my book i guess

-horny jean kirschtein x reader smut?

-scorsese goodfellas-casino inspired rick x reader fanfic.. which may or may not be added into the U137verse, haven’t decided yet

i’m a barista now and having so much fun. here’s a somewhat decent attempt at latte art, there’s a coffee shop related project i’ve been fantasizing about but i won’t say anything for now. it’s not a fanfic though!🤫🫣

hope y’all are doing well, tysm for all the interaction and love, my dms are always open :)

[kusaka6e]

SONGS THEY’D POST YOU TO

songs i think our favs would post us on their stories to <3

sfw

shows/fandoms included: bnha, tokyo rev, kny, fire force, aot, haikyuu, fairy tail

i’ve been working on this one shot for like a month and i’m STRUGGLING to finish it so take this in the meantime :,)

———

world we created - giveon

akaashi keiji, armin arlert, tenya iida, kyojuro rengoku, keigo takami, tanjiro kamado, ARTHUR BOYLE, natsu dragneel

paradise - pink sweats

gray fullbuster, connie springer, eijiro kirishima, kotaro bokuto, hinata shoyo, matsuno chifuyu, konro sagamiya

iris - the goo goo dolls

EREN YEAGER, gajeel redfox, sanemi shinaguzawa, inosuke hashibira, katsuki bakugo, shinmon benimaru

all mine - brent faiyaz

jean kirschtein, porco galliard, DENKI KAMINARI, tetsuro kuroo, keisuke baji, ogun montgomery, hanemiya kazutora

dark red - steve lacy

zenitsu agatsuma, marco bodt, tamaki amajiki, TOBIO KAGEYAMA, tomioka giyuu, koshi sugawara, shinra kusakabe, sting eucliffe

melt - kehlani

izuku midoriya, shota aizawa, tengen uzui, hajime iwaizumi, mirio togata, takashi mitsuya, daichi sawamura, akiteru obi, takehisa hinawa, rogue cheney