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fqiryspit · 7 months
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MMY QUEEEEN <333333 💞
Are there any comment/er(s) that resonated with you?
Comments in general always make me happy I appreciate all of them!!!!
One comment that really stands out in my memory is this comment by @fqiryspit it was legitimately my lock screen for a week I kept looking back at it and smiling 🥹💖
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fqiryspit · 8 months
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omg...
Good to go (Eren Jaeger)
tw stepcest, smut, slapping, scroll if you don’t like it
Eren’s little sis who keeps trying to kiss him in front of his friends.. except they don’t know you guys are step siblings. “You two look so cute together, since when did you get a girlfriend?” Eren’s friend proclaims over whatever music is blaring at your small get together.
“Can you excuse us for a sec?” he’s already up on his feet and dragging you to a nearby bathroom as he says that. Eyebrows furrowed and snakebites tugging as he gently bites on his lower lip, his hand gripping your wrist not-so-gently, though.
Your big brother looked so pretty towering above you, you admire the way his long hair collides with his shoulders every long step he takes, heavy breathing and dizzy eyes have you almost stumbling along the way. Is it getting hot in here, or is it just you?
The door swings open and slams shut just as fast, you weren’t much of a physics girl but the speed of how Eren pinned you up against that same door made you understand everything. “What the fuck are you doing?”
You smile softly at his question, mind hazy at how strong Eren is, forearms flexing while holding you up off your feet against the door. You liked him so much, you didn’t even try fighting against him. Although you soon learned what would happen if you did.
“I said,” he brings a hand to your cheek in the form of a slap “what the fuck are you doing?” you can’t help but giggle at how handsome he is when he gets all mad, from the green fire in his eyes to the burning flame at his fingertips — you were rendered crazy. He scoffs and looks to the side as if he was contemplating if this was a good idea, all that split second thinking vanished when he pressed his lips up against yours into a kiss.
Your kisses weren’t usually like this, a couple forehead kisses here and there in his usual overprotective brotherly fashion— but this— this was different. It reminded you of those couple sacred moments he taught you not to speak of. When he sneaks into your room at night, tells you he needs this, needs to use your little cunt and that this is what little sisters are for. Of course, the butterflies dancing in your tummy as well as the low timbre of his voice urge you to comply, kiss him, and act normal in front of your parents; excusing the foot kicks you share under the dinner table.
You found yourself loving this side of him. Eren was an asshole at times, he is a boy after all. But as fucked up as it was— you fucking loved it. Loved being the girl that satisfies him. Sure, he’s had sex. With tons of girls actually, I mean, have you seen him? He’s untouchable, no one can get on his level of beauty and charisma. Even now when he tilts his head to the side and smirks at you while pulling you over to the bathroom sink, no one came close. Yet he came back to you every time, he’s moulded your little pussy so that it can only take his dick, no one else’s. He would be a terrible big brother if he didn’t at least give you what you were made for, don’t you think?
Eren was the only boy you needed, and his baby sis was better than any girl he’s slept with.
“You wanna act like my girlfriend, you’re gonna get treated like one,” Eren breathes out, turning you so you’re facing the mirror with your ass pressing up against him. His hard on already poking you from underneath, sending an invitation for his fingers to slide down to your sopping cunt. “God, look at you, baby. You really that needy for your big brothers cock?”
“mmm.. ‘ren..” you whine as his middle and ring finger tease your entrance prepping you for the massive excuse of a dick he has in his pants, you still could never get used to that.
“Hm?” he pumps “gotta be good for me, sis. Don’t want mom finding out, do you?”
“no, no. i’ll be good, promise.”
“That’s what I thought.” He’s now flipping your skirt up and pulling your panties to the side. His pants already unzipped and dick hanging out, giving it a few pumps before sliding his way into you.
You instantly moan at the stretch, his groans following behind “God, this tight fuckin’ cunt. Can’t get enough of it.” he finally bottoms out as you whine at the validation. Once you let it settle in, and his biting of your shoulder goes from harsh to gentle, he begins to move.
His strokes become rough rather quickly, he still has to be a good brother and discipline you, of course. Your neck and shoulders were covered in bite marks, his canines shining in the mirror in front of you. You could feel the heat of his moans on the back of your neck as well as his arm wrapping around your waist. You were reduced to a mess in seconds. The hem of your shirt now right under your neck; exposing your boobs as they bounced up and down in unison of his relentless pace.
His fat fucking cock was splitting you open again and again, you cried out to him as he got ahold of your face and turned you in the direction of the mirror. “Look at yourself, look at how you’re taking this dick, sis. Yeah? You like it when I- fuck- you like it when your big brother pounds that tight little pussy, yeah?“ he squeezes your cheeks “Of course you do.”
You just about scream at how rough he’s treating you “shut up, god. You wanna get us caught or somethin’? ‘s that it? Fuckin’ whore.” Eren presses further, his pace getting that much quicker, and your orgasm nearing that much faster. You shake your head no as long as you can until he’s kissing you, hungrily forcing his tongue down your warm throat like a wild animal in rut.
You could tell he was nearing his climax too, the way his tongue stuttered against yours, and how hard he would bite your lip when things started to feel a little too good.
“Fuck, baby. Gonna cum.” your little hole squeezed around his cock right when he said that, voluntarily or not— you don’t know. Eren was making you feel too good, you couldn’t help but tighten around him in pleasure.
“God, g’nna marry you, sis.” he’s babbling at this point, but it was true. He wanted nothing more than to put a ring on his baby sisters finger and watch it twinkle around his cock when you pump him up and down. The universe must’ve cursed him with this forbiddance, but he found himself liking how wrong it is.
You felt so good, way too good, the knot in your tummy finally untying as he brought his hand down to rub at your swollen little clit. He fucked you through your orgasm, as well as a few tears rolling down your cheeks from the overstimulation.
“Aw, you gonna cry?” he groans as he laughs at your crying, your tears sending him right over the edge. You were spasming around his dick— all of it— as he pulls out quickly and dumps his load onto your pussy.
Eren thought you looked gorgeous like this, fucked out covered in your big brothers cum; the way it should be. He gives you one final kiss before leaning down to take a good look at your swollen little pussy. It looked so good. All sensitive and needy, squeezing around nothing. He couldn’t help but get a taste; God, who knew baby sister’s tasted this good? He brings his lips together and spits on your cunt, giving it a harsh slap before pulling your panties back over it. He’s back up on his feet again, petting you and rubbing his cum into your underwear with his hand.
“There,” he kisses the top of your head “now you’re good to go.”
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fqiryspit · 8 months
Text
AUHHHHHH 😫
Stepbro!eren kicking your foot under the family dinner table right after fucking you senselessly on it the night before <3 memories of him bending you over and splitting your cunt open on his cock cloud your mind, his strong hands on your hips, keeping his grunts low due to your parents being asleep in the room next to you. But opposites attract, and you can’t seem to stay quiet.
“Shut up, sis. You’ll get us caught.” this time you moan even louder, then he realizes something. “Oh,” he says with a smirk “That’s what you want, right? You want mommy and daddy to walk in on your big brother fucking you, huh? ‘s that it?” Eren teases as he keeps pounding you from behind, wet sounds from where you two were connected echoed throughout the house— the occasional moans here and there accessorising it perfectly. “Didn’t know my little sister was such a fuckin’ whore.” he was so mean :( but his cock was stretching you too good for you to argue back. Besides, you were lucky you had thick walls or you would’ve been in deep shit.
Fortunately— or well, unfortunately, no one got caught that night. But God did it excite Eren. I mean, the boys been tormenting you everyday since! From fucking you on your squeaky bed frame and later when your parents ask about all the noise he tells them you’ve just been jumping on the bed, with a boyish grin and his signature lip bite. All the way to fucking your mouth with a vanilla ice cream bar in the kitchen while they were watching a movie in the distance. Eren truly was a menace. Face of a God, born in hell.
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fqiryspit · 8 months
Text
𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ; 𝐞.𝐣𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐫
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𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠?
.
summary: y/n went to bed to fall into a new world where she met a boy, Eren. every night she would spend with this imaginary boy, but what happens when one wants to stop dreaming?
playlist
Chapter 10: 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜
masterlist
Eren Yeager x Female Reader. College!AU
.
【EREN'S POV】
A smile strained on my lips as I walk out of the university, I now have everything (including a dorm) set up for me, I'm gonna be moving in sometime in December since I need to finish up my first semester in my old college
the murky woods right beside me smile with the twigs dripping from the previous downfall, the gray clouds being the prime evidence of the storm -not to mention the beautiful smell of new rain
I could see in the distance that the forest held fog near the dirt where the powdery hue swirled and moved with every gush of wind, looking at it made a sappy smile appear, It reminded me of Y/n and how she saved me that night when I was running through the forest
I've been eating up temazepam nightly just so I can lucid dream Y/n. my eye bags have faded and my mood went up. even tho I'm becoming accustomed to controlling her in my dreams, It still feels...wrong.
-should I be using her like this? fuck, why do I even care so much...-
...why do I even care so much. I swear I've asked that question to myself more than anyone else in these past few months.
stepping over the cracked sidewalk as I keep my head low I hear my name being sprung from someone's lungs
"EREN!!" I look up to see Mikasa and Armin frantically waving at the hood of the cafe, I was supposed to visit them after the meeting with the college, they've probably been waiting so long since I've been caught up in my damn thoughts...like always
I wish I wasn't so caught up in my damn thoughts.
.
【Y/N'S POV】
"I'm so bored"
you whined as you jump onto the couch, rubbing your nose into the cushion as Sasha giggled from the kitchen
"I'm heading out. Maybe you should come with me" She offered, you rolled off the couch and looked up to her to see her put on a sweet smile
"where?" "the cafe, I'm fucking starving"
"hmmm," you puckered your lips and then rolled your baggy eyes "better not, I can't have caffeine" you need to try and actually get sleep tonight, blaming your nightmares on the absurd amount of caffeine you drink
"suit yourself!!" she grabbed her bag and blew you a kiss before slipping through the door, you sighed and turned your head to the window that showed the sappy forest and the droplet of water that splatted your window, excess rain from the roof spilling out in unison as the one little raindrop made "splat" on the window
you rolled off the couch as you hoped to be productive on your off-day, squinting your eyes in thought as you still sat patiently on the floor, acting like an idea was going to come to you any minute...
and then it did.
you jumped up and threw your arms up, frantically waving them around as you almost slip on the wood flooring with your pearly white socks before sliding towards your room
your foot closed the door as you hopped over to your desk, your hand reached over for your tote bag as you grip the handle to balance yourself
you held your sketchbook up with dignity and leaped onto your bed, a proud smile on your face as you flipped through the pages
your chest fills with pride when you see a fairy you drew, a little puffy nose, and pointy ears, adorable.
flick
.
"So, anything going on?" Mikasa said with a smile as she stirred her iced coffee, her eyes flicking towards me for a second before falling back to the drink
"Uhm, yeah, the is college finally doing its job and-"
"OH, ENOUGH ABOUT THAT!" Armin practically screamed in the empty cafe, startling the lone worker
"I heard you got a girlfriend!" Mikasa squealed as she rested her wrists on her chin, leaning forward as she waited for an explanation
"who? do we know her? is she nice-" "Yes, yes I'll answer all your questions just let me finish my bagel-"
ᵈⁱⁿᵍ
are eyes turned to the door to see an auburn-haired girl standing with a determined look on her face, walking to the counter like a man on a mission as she announces her order like a prayer
her eyes flashed to me for a second, and then again. a double-take? why? who is this girl?
"so...you were saying?" Mikasa said, I shook my head and tried to find my voice as I go over the previous conversation, what were we talking about?
"oh, don't tell me it's Sasha now?" Mikasa said while rocking a cocky smile as she leaned back in her chair
Sasha? she knew this girl?
my eyes widen as I struggle to speak, Armin beating me to it as he asks the same question
"Uhh yeah? she is the foody remember? she shares a dorm with-"
ᵈⁱⁿᵍ
we all flinch at the sound, looking back to see 'Sasha' gone and...Mina.
"Eren?" She said with a slight laugh, walking over to our table as she invites herself to a seat
"O-oh hey Mina" I mumble, looking back at my melty iced coffee as she glows with happiness at this extraordinary accident
Armin nudges Mikasa whispering you can only assume "that's his girlfriend" -because the girlfriend was so highlighted in his tone the whole table couldn't help but hear it
you watched Mikasa's face turn, contorted as she can only hope it was a joke
"I'm gonna order! don't miss me too much" she giggles as she walks over to the counter
My head hung low as I waited for the degradation, 
"Eren...Sasha would've made more sense then...her"
"What's wrong with her?" Armin asked obliviously
"Armin...remember? her and Christa? the little the squad they made?" my eyebrows raised as she was speaking gibberish to me...Christa? squad?
their voices dropped to whispers as they talked about things I couldn't care less about
I couldn't care less about it because,
Why the hell did Sasha smell like Y/n?
.
【Y/N'S POV】
you flick the page to the side to see the next one, a guy, he had a muscular build with doe eyes, probably one of the more defining features of him was the bun that sat low on his head
you titled your head at the drawing, brows furrowed as you try to remember the man
you throw your head back as you try to think when you drew him, getting a flicker of the cafe in mind as you start to recall. You remember you were upset... just not why. sadly drawing the man until another one sat next to you.
you look back down that the sketch, twisting your lips in concentration but getting nothing
you chalked it up to be some guy you saw on campus, but still, it's just something about him...you knew him better than just a glimpse
but, it seems like he is just that, a glimpse. a lost snippet of your memory that you'll never recover
and maybe that was for the best.
Chapter 11
˜"*°•.˜"*°• see you soon •°*"˜.•°*"˜
an: Please dont expect this to be updated again for like a really long time..
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fqiryspit · 8 months
Text
𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ; 𝐞.𝐣𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐫
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𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠?
.
summary: y/n went to bed to fall into a new world where she met a boy, Eren. every night she would spend with this imaginary boy, but what happens when one wants to stop dreaming?
playlist
Chapter 9: 𝙡𝙪𝙘𝙞𝙙 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢
masterlist
Eren Yeager x Female Reader. College!AU
.
【EREN'S POV】
"breathe in and out"
inhale
exhale
"breathe in and ou-" "This shit isn't working."
I snapped and slammed my computer shut, cutting off the poor asmrtist that was just trying to help
you'd assume the storm outside would calm me down, but, just like that asmr channel...it did shit.
staring at the ceiling was always fun but I actually had to sleep tonight.
I have a date with Mina today.
I can't show up with eye bags and act like a zombie the entire time
I swallowed my pride and swung my feet to the side, walking to the bathroom with a flash of lightning to reveal the path
looking in the mirror I was so...
disappointed.
almost purple dark circles sit snug under my eyes with my barely-there freckles becoming practically nonexistent
I had my fingers run through my hair just for them to come out greasy
"disgusting" I mumbled before running a shower
while the water was blasting I reached out for the sink's nob, flicking it so water would start spitting out at me. My fingers held out in a pleading motion as the water slipped and filled up my hands, just enough for me to splash it on my face
mesmerized by the waters doings I looked back up only to see my features were clouded by the steam, I sighed and open my medicine cabinet, reaching for the orange bottle with the words temazepam staring at me
I reached for the bottle, popping it open with my thumb before letting one of the tablets fall into my palm. once more I turned on the sink and had water running down my palms before I mixed the two together and swallowed my remedy
I stripped from my sticky pajamas and hopped in,  warm waters shooting at me immediately soothed my muscles
my head hit the tiled walls as the screaming shower turned into muffled ringing, when I tried to take comfort in the wall by snuggling up to it like it was my pillow I snapped out of my weary fit and started washing myself
when I finished lathering lotion on my achy skin I put my pajamas on and leaped into bed
I cuddled with my pillow and fiddled with my sheets until my eyes got heavy
and when I opened them, I was somewhere else
I was dreaming
It felt so calm...I was in a field next to a lake. I look down to see I'm in dark green dress pants strapped on by a brown belt, and tucked in it was a white button-up that was rolled at the sleeves
my hair nicely pulled back in a bun, strands falling out perfectly as white flowers softly fell from the trees 
and then I saw it
or, I saw her.
there, in the valley of the trees was Y/n in a soft pink sundress, her hair neatly tucked back in a low bun with some fringe falling out.
there was my dream girl
it felt like my legs were failing me as I ran towards her, picking her up and swinging her around like in those classic romance movies
her giggle, damn her giggle was beautiful, I could listen to it forever and die happy
"Hi" I smile, her soft features hitting the natural light of the trail, her bright e/c eyes sparkling as I get lost in them
"Hi" she replies her glossy lips widening as she grins down at me
after a moment a put her down from my grip, she just stared up at me, waiting
"I missed you so much" I feel my heart skip a beat as I go over every part of her face, trying to remember each part that I love so much
"I missed you too eren" she slurred, my eyes immediately went back to hers, and there she was, smiling
I feel my smile twitch in confusion, when she said that...it was almost...not like her
like it wasn't her voice
it was almost uncanny, her eyes staring into mine but there was nothing behind them. her lips locked in a smile as she waited for my next command
this wasn't her.
I decided to test my theory as I said orders in my head
laugh.
and there was her intoxicating giggle
smile.
back to the grin.
frown.
now a pouty lip.
this wasn't my dream girl
this was a lucid dream.
I got the hang of it more the dream went on. if I make her say something she's never said before it's slurred and almost like it's mixed with a different voice
that's why when she said she missed me it was weird.
she never got the chance to say it, or say anything, because I left her.
my heart ached and I wished nothing more than to just get away from this fake version of Y/n I made up.
it isn't her. no snarky comments, none of those dumb jokes I love, not a single thing except a smiley cheerful demon wearing Y/n's skin trying to lure me to hell-
"WILL YOU GO AWAY?" I snapped, running around this forest with her on my tail was starting to get on my last fucking nerve
I see her face turn into sadness, tears welling up in her eyes
"please Eren, I need you" she repeated. almost like a wendigo mimicking its prey
"stop."
"Please you're all I have, you can't do this, please Eren," she started crying, reciting her lines from the night I left her, guilt eating me alive as some part of my brain wanted to hurt me more by hearing it again from her
then silence...
"please Eren, I need you" again, she is saying it again. I started walking away, feeling my skin crawl at her fake tears
"Please you're all I have, you can't do this, please Eren," I started running, her legs might not be as fast as mine but her voice echoed throughout the trees
"please Eren, I need you"  full-on sprinting towards a large oak tree as I heard her scream
just as I slip behind the tree, I turn my head back to make sure she didn't see me
"fucking hell" I mutter as I turn my head around just to see her, tears running down her cheeks as she looks up at me before tilting her head and saying with a pout...
"please Eren, I need you" 
I gasp awake to see the sun trickling out of the window, complete silence as that nightmare rubbed off on me
well, I sure as hell slept.
Chapter 10
˜"*°•.˜"*°• see you soon •°*"˜.•°*"˜
an: girl idek..
31 notes · View notes
fqiryspit · 8 months
Text
𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ; 𝐞.𝐣𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐫
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𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠?
.
summary: y/n went to bed to fall into a new world where she met a boy, Eren. every night she would spend with this imaginary boy, but what happens when one wants to stop dreaming?
playlist
Chapter 8: 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙣𝙞𝙖
masterlist
Eren Yeager x Female Reader. College!AU
.
your body jolted awake, sweat dripping from your hair as you have just awoken from another nightmare
they just keep getting worse
you check the time...5:30 am, way earlier than you'd ever get up, but you know you aren't falling back to sleep anytime soon.
your eyes scan the darkroom, looking much eerier when all the lights are out
it's almost uncanny, everything in place, right where it should be but something isn't right
maybe it's you that's out of place
you shake your head and decided maybe it's not the best idea to stay here, at least until Sasha wakes up
your feet slowly slid off the bed, ears finally popping at some sorta sound
you're looking around like a serial killer is about to finally pop out of nowhere, but...nothing
there's absolutely nothing
It's so weird,
it's almost like you're the only one awake
*
ᵉʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵖᵒᵛ 
His dry eyes stared at the ceiling of his dorm, wide awake. he didn't get a wink of sleep
my insomnia is coming back
after the longest time, it's slowly creeping in again
you were his antidote, but his remedy was taken away
his red  sleep-deprived eyes traveled to the alarm clock on his nightstand, the numbers 5:30 screaming at him
"Might as well just get up now" he mumbled as he slipped out of bed, rushing over to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face
he stared at his dripping features and eyebags that seemed to darken with each day
opening the medicine cabinet, he scooped up the eye drops and squirted them into his orbs
his now clear eyes caught an orange bottle from the back of the cabinet, temazepam, the medication he was prescribed when he couldn't sleep...
he stared at the medication for a few moments before closing the cabinet and getting dressed
he won't let it get that bad again.
wearing a dark green shirt with dim gray jeans and a black jacket on top, styling his hair in a low bun and spritzing his perfume on, the vanilla musky scent filling his lungs before exiting the dorm
*
ʸ/ⁿ'ˢ ᵖᵒᵛ
you take one good look at your outfit before you go, the dark wash jeans meeting your converse and a black long sleeve with the top of your white bralette peeking out. you make sure everything's in place before quickly twirling in the mirror, you hand yanks the cap of your perfume off before spraying it on yourself, the warm jasmine scent calming you before you grab your bag and head out the dorm
walking towards the cafe you looked up to the dark cloudy sky, your nose pink from the subtle cold, taking comfort in the weather
you practically skip down the sidewalk, right at the edge of the dark forest, your eyes get drawn to the thick trees that seem to go on forever, you get gitty as you start thinking about all the urban legends you've heard on the creatures of the forest
your eyes suddenly meet the building of the cafe, you open the doors and get hit with the sweet scent of the pastries 
"welcome in!"
*
ᵉʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵖᵒᵛ
His shoes hit the pavement as he sped walked to the cafe, eyes focused on the ground as he tries not to think about the urban legends of the forest right beside him
shivering at the thought of a skinwalker hopping out of the deep woods to attack him, or try to mimic his voice, trying to lure him deeper in the forest-
"Eren?" He jumped at the noise, head shooting up to only see Mina
"oh- heh, hey" He calmed down as he realized that he was overreacting
"sorry, didn't mean to scare you! What are you doing up this early?" she smiled as gripped her hot coffee 
"O-oh, I just wanted to go for a walk and stop by the cafe" he said as he buried his hands in his pockets
"Oh, how fun! I just got back from it! I love walking there in the morning" she grinned and Eren forced a quick smile before mumbling a 'yeah'
"Y-You know...I was wondering when our next date would be..." she said, face red as she stuttered 
"Right, Uhm, Well I'm free all week. you can just text me when" He said and she practically lit up
"Really? Perfect! I'll be sure to text you!" She grinned as her grip on the poor coffee tightened
"perfect." He said when giving Mina a smile, they bid their goodbyes before walking off, Eren sighed as he saw the cafe in the distance
"finally"
*
 ʸ/ⁿ'ˢ ᵖᵒᵛ
Sasha: DID YOU GET KIDNAPPED?
you read as you waited for your coffee, giggling as you felt relief wash over you, she was awake and you can go back home
"Order for Y/n!" You turn and scooped up the hot coffee before paying and walking out of the cafe. taking a sip of your coffee, the searing taste burned your throat but otherwise, it tasted amazing
the fresh scent of rain filled your senses as you started speed walking home 
you pulled out your phone, quickly texting Sasha
Y/n: Yes, they're holding me hostage at the cafe 🙁
*
ᵉʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵖᵒᵛ 
"welcome in!"
Eren smiled at the sudden scent of coffee and warm treats, walking over to the barista and telling her his order 
he leaned against the table as he was gonna make this quick
*
 ʸ/ⁿ'ˢ ᵖᵒᵛ
Sasha: you went...WITHOUT ME?1!1!
Y/n: fine, what do you want?
Sasha: Caramel Frappuccino with extra caramel drizzle and a chocolate croissant PLEASE
Y/n: ...ok <3
You turn and started walking back to the cafe
*
ᵉʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵖᵒᵛ 
"Order for Eren!" The barista called out, Eren thanked her and paid, about to walk out when he saw it started raining, deciding to just take a seat and wait for the rain to pass
he pulled out the chair and scrolled through his phone as the rain roared against the widow he had his head resting on
*
 ʸ/ⁿ'ˢ ᵖᵒᵛ
you walked back to the cafe until a droplet landed on your phone screen
"Shit" you mumbled as you started feeling rain trickle down your hair, deciding fuck Sasha because you weren't gonna go home cold with watery frappuccino and have to shower
you turn back and started running back to your dorm.
meeting up with a pissy Sasha, because now she has to go all the way to the cafe by herself to get a drink 
"You're a big girl, I'm sure you can handle it" You grinned as she whined. 
the storm raging outside the window as you sat in the living room was a nice touch as you both watched Rascal Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Senpai
"If I ever go Invisible, promise me you'll buy me food like him" She said and you giggled
"I'm serious!" she mewled
"Ok Sash, I promise" you smile at her and went back to watching the show
but you couldn't shake off the feeling of something being off
maybe you shouldn't have turned away from the cafe?
but why? what was so important that your body couldn't shake off?
I guess we'll never know.
Chapter 9
˜"*°•.˜"*°• see you soon •°*"˜.•°*"˜
an: goodness gracious the switch of povs is nauseating. ANYWAY!! heyyyyy shawtyyyy this post is literally just for @z3r0art
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fqiryspit · 8 months
Text
SUNBURNT. eren hc
sunburnt!reader x eren headcanons
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"o-ouch! wait- wait a second"
he hasn't even laid a hand on you before you start yelping.
"babe..what were you expecting?"
your back is completely red and peeling, you're laid out on the hotel bed with arms spread as eren tries to hold back a laugh with aloe gel in his hand.
"I expected to be tan! obviously!"
you cry out as eren barks out laughing and you lay there, embarrassed
"no squirming."
you look like an alien when he's done. a glossy green reflecting off your red skin as all your 'vacation sexiness' has completely been ruined.
you want to almost cry as you stretch your arms out to put your shirt back on, the feeling of fabric rubbing against your raw skin
*click*
you turn to see him as he sits up from the bed, phone in hand. he'd place a hand where you weren't burnt -how lucky for him, where your binky bottoms were-
and when you think that maybe, just maybe your sexy vibe could come back, he'd whisper in your ear
"my little flamingo"
and you'd cry-laugh away from him.
*
he'd buy all the ice cream known to man to cool you down
and he'd rub ice cubes on you 🥺
"you look so hot like this" AND he'd lie to you.
bottom line. erens is the best bf when you get burnt>>>
ps. you'd have to ride him for the rest of the trip while lotioned up because you couldn't move too much 🥺 it's his way of making you feel better 💞
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an: heyyyy shawtyyyy! I'M NOT BURNT...yet. I am the queen of getting sunburnt on vacations when expecting myself to be tan (i never learn) so i made this for all my burnt girlies!!! I LOVE YOU!!! <33
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fqiryspit · 9 months
Note
Oh my gosh! Thank you for the sweetest reblog! 🥹
Literally made my day, and I just... it was truly the sweetest thing EVER! Thank you!!
Genuinely, I was sobbing when I saw your comment, but a reblog?? I was truly ascending! ❤️
And since you like Jean, I have another story with him I think you might enjoy! Here it is!
Btw! Keep up the good work! Checked out your works, and absolutely adored them!
OMGGG yes queen of course that fic was plaguing my mind all day it was sooo good!! <33
ALSO i immediately clicked that link and read that and OMG- THAT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD I LITERALLY CANT
my jaw was on the floor when I realized it was a revenge plot and reader wasn't actually so innocent! and EVERYTHING WAS SO PERFECT!! ahhhh i actually felt like i was there i loved that fic so much omggg!!! thank you for telling me about that masterpiece!!
5 notes · View notes
fqiryspit · 9 months
Text
holy SHIT.
PLEASE READ THIS RIGHT NOW I DONT CARE WHERE YOU ARE ITS GONNA CHANGE YOUR LIFE.
I'm a lover of priest!*guy* x y/n..but this is by far, hands down, the best one I've ever read in my entire life.
THE WRITING.
the way she talks about scenery and how reader is feeling WITHOUT stopping the story to talk about each thing? like it comes so naturally and easily and just flows so beautifully. I was looking for smut..yes, I can admit that. but I was fully enthralled and forgot about the smut because the story was so good. just wow.
LIKE- I'm completely devoted to y/ns story now! great story 10/10
oh- and btw the aftercare was my dream 🥺 I sometimes like to read degrading stuff but I'm always like "does he fr think that?!??!" like obvi it doesn't matter but to the story, I always take it to heart for some reason so the aftercare was literally so nice omg <333
❀ Confession ❀
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❀ Priest Jean Kirstein x Nun Fem. Reader. ❀
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❀ Sypnosis:
Sunday.
The day we dedicate to God, for he is our lord and savior. You, a dedicated Nun who wishes nothing more than to serve your savior. But, is starting to sin more often then normal.
With a certain desire for your priest…
Father Jean.
❀ Genre:
Attack on Titan, Priest Jean.
❀ Content Warning:
Absolutely filthy. Dark content! Slight voyeurism, degradation, cream-pie, unprotected sex, overstimulation, praise, filthy smut, slight oral sex, penetrative sex, dacrayphilla, etc.
❀ Word Count:
16 k words.
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⊹ † ༻✦༺ † ༻✧༺ † ༻✦༺ † ⊹ 
Sunday morning. 
The light wind blew the melody of sweet songs, light dancing around in soft fragments, the stained glass catching it, and displaying the colors on the marble floor. Painting pictures of which only children’s wild imagination could understand. 
Clean, white, pure, just like the women and men inside the sacred building. If not, they are here for just that, cleansing, white, and purity. Forgiveness for the sins they have committed. Forgiveness for the sins they have yet to commit. For the people are God’s loyal servants, and wish to follow him into paradise once they fall into their eternal rest. 
A beautiful hundred foot ceiling above their heads, painted in the most rich of colors and pictures. Demonstrating the beauty and depth of what Christ has done for his people. Wooden seats decorating the floor, allowing God’s people a place to sit when Father preached the Holy Spirit. 
A stage decorated with soft pastel flowers, a white fabric draped over the stand of where Father preaches each morning of Sunday. Some bread and wine next to him when he did so. Velvet clothes decorating each table and floor. Crosses with the son of God resting above the stand. 
Jesus died for our sins. 
And, today was a simple day. Just confessions. People repenting the sins they had committed since their last confession. However, there was something different about today, and the next few weeks. Father was being observed by the Nuns of the church. Along with their novitiates. Sisters in training. Most were young, eighteen to nineteen, the oldest being twenty-four. They were always a delight to have over, along with polite. Father never minded their company. 
Quiet as a mouse and beautiful as a dove. Along with their dedication to their religion. Father loved the company of each one. Each of them huddled around each other, watching with eager eyes. Wanting to observe the process of forgiveness. 
Father approached the next person, placing his hands together, and holding them around the cross by his neck. Smiling kindly, his dimples molding into his cheeks, “For you, my child, are you ready?” His tone was soft, comforting, and warm. Just like a blanket fresh out of the Laundry. Opening an inviting, willing to forgive and bless. It is what everyone loved about the Priest. 
“Yes.” It was breathy, almost nervous. Fingers pressed against the soft white fabric of her dress, trembling slightly. Father was used to that. She thickly swallowed, “Anything for my God and Savior.” He smiled kindly, nodding his head. Bringing their foreheads close, two slender fingers pressed together. Dark brown eyes peering into the girl's light blue ones, drinking up every emotion shooting through her body. 
Nervousness, uncertainty, anxiousness, excitement, and eagerness. The eyes always reveal so much about the person, that’s why Father preferred to look into them. He always knew what type of person he was talking to just by looking into their eyes. 
She looked up, watching as Father bent his knees to reach her height. He was so much taller than her, so much bigger. It was intimidating. The novitiates watch closely. Leaning closer in hope of catching Father’s voice again. Kind yet deep, intimidating but interesting. All the women were practically leaning out of their seats. This priest in particular always causes this reaction with the novitiates, considering how young he was. A mere twenty-six years old. 
His fingers gently pressed against her upper chest, “In the name of the Father,” her left than right shoulder, “and of the Son of the Holy Spirit, Amen.” He backed up, watching the women. And, the novitiates watched as the woman bent her head down, hands pressed together against her lap. Closing her eyes and staying still. 
It was a way of separating the sinner to the saint. The blesser to the blessed. Father always was more than willing to help the sinners relish their sins. It was something he loved about his life, it made him feel closer to God. 
It was his heaven. This was his heaven. 
A brief pause, then, “Bless me Father Jean, for I have sinned.” 
⊹ † ༻✦༺ † ༻✧༺ † ༻✦༺ † ⊹ 
It was seven-thirty am. Your bed is freshly made, decorated with white silk sheets, along with soft pillows. An extra light pink blanket hanging off the edge of your bed frame, something you brought from home. 
Painted glass decorated your window, making it hard to see the beauty of the outside. However, you didn’t mind. The sun always reflected the light of the glass panels perfectly, making your room colorful. Maybe that’s why you were in charge of the children. Your room was big and simple, nothing but the necessities. Along with that, your bathroom was able to be locked and unlocked. Which made it the ideal children’s drop off zone. 
It was the children’s drop off zone. And, you were the caretaker. 
Currently, you are sitting in your vanity. Sister Mary standing behind you, trying to place your hair into your veil. A task you had trouble doing on your own. 
You straightened your back, eyes dancing over the cross on your neck.You mind was bouncing back to the sight from last week. Father Jean and the women asking for forgiveness. The isolation that ensued the moment the two started speaking. It felt like you shouldn’t have been watching. It looked so.. intimate. 
Something you didn’t know much about, due to your devotion to God. 
You parted your lips, “It looks so intimate Sister Mary,” you whispered, placing your hands on the vanity in front of you. Slowly moving it in circles, the mirror ahead of you following you every movement. “The Priest, and the people.” You mumbled, replaying the scene in your head like a movie. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. You crossed a leg over the other, “Is that what marriage looks like? Is that what it’s like?” Father Jean was always fresh in your mind. Of course, it was because he kept you close to God. Nothing else. 
She collected your hair together, trying to find a way to style it. Always treat your hair, then place it into the hairstyle. “Marriage is something we shouldn’t be thinking of Sister, for we are already wed to the Lord our God.” She hummed comfortingly, “And, it looks as if you’re in need of a haircut, Sister.” Her hands dropped your long silk strands, reaching for scissors on the vanity. Something you used when making crafts for the children.
You wanted to grab your hair from her hands, hold it tight and close. But, you grabbed the vanity instead. Keeping your hair short was practical, useful, and your sign of devotion. It showed you no longer wanted to follow the temptations of the world. Attraction. Cutting your hair was a way of showing you were refusing all the pleasures and temptations of the “outside world”.
And, wanting to keep it was a sin. 
You were sinning. 
You closed your eyes, not looking at the amount of hair Sister Mary was holding. It had to be to your shoulders, you didn’t want to think about it. It had been so long since you last cut it, and you were rather proud of the length you acquired. The care and nurturing you put into your hair, along with, you really enjoyed the way your hair looked on you. Of course, no one saw it, but it was a pleasure of your own. A secret sin of your own. 
“In the name of the Father, and the Son of the Holy Spirit..” Please forgive my secret sin, my one pleasure, but allow me this one thing. Allow me to enjoy my one pleasure, and I will do you with good in ten fold. “..Amen.” Your eyes fluttered open, watching as Sister Mary lifted her scissors, your hair held by her other hand. 
A knock at the door, followed by, “Sister Mary, I do apologize for the poor timing,” a deep and kind voice, warming– like a blanket fresh out of laundry, “but, I’m afraid I need you for something.” The door remained shut, your eyes peering at it. You wished for it to open. 
“Oh, of course Father, allow me.” She stood up from the seat behind you, placing the scissors down. Your eyes following the silver weapon. “I apologize, Sister. But, it seems that God has a different day planned for your length change.” She gave you a silly, comforting, smile, “Goodbye, Sister.” 
You gave her one in return, bowing your head. “To you as well.” Thank you Spirit, for sending one of your Angels. “Thank you, Sister Mary.” She gave you a brief nod before walking to the door. Cracking it open and speaking with Father Jean, giving him a kind bow. You couldn’t help yourself, but you leaned forward. Trying to catch a glimpse of the young saint. You didn’t know why you wanted to see him, but you did. And, you were eager to at that. 
Unfortunately, that was all you got. A mere glimpse of the man, his clothing. Black everything, his pants, shirt, and shoes. His collar was decorated in a brief white, along with a rosary resting on his chest. You wondered if he wore gold rings. Priests often wore gold rings. It was something you noticed from your two years of observing your religion. Something required to be a Nun. 
Father Jean was known to be the nicest man alive. A true saint with a golden heart. A man who does good purely to do good, with expecting nothing in return. A true ideal priest, someone you looked up to. Admired even. Even if you two haven’t spoken often. 
Your door shut behind Sister Mary, leaving you in the small room supported by the Church. “I thought she’d never leave.” You turned around, looking at your friend. Watching as she finally emerged from your closet. Since, she was hiding from Sister Mary. Visiting time wasn’t permitted at this moment. 
Her name was Sasha, a pretty girl she was. She had joined this path with you about a year ago, and since, you two have been inseparable. Well, that’s how it was with everyone of your Sisters. A total of five, including yourself. 
“I thought I was going to lose my hair, Sister.” You muttered, grabbing onto it instinctively. You didn’t want to lose that. “I believe, Sister Mary is too strict about trivial things.” I mean, it was 2022, not 1900. Couldn’t you have one pleasure as a Nun? Everything else about you was dedicated to the Lord. Quite literally. 
Your friend sat on your bed, brown hair decorating her shoulders. A small pout on her rose lips, “I like my hair short, so I don’t completely mind the haircuts.” She answered, “Besides, it’s more manageable.” Her hand went to her hair, grabbing a few strands of her bangs. Toying with the silky strands. 
“I know, but it think—“ you turned to the mirror, “I think it looks pretty like this.” You liked your hair, it was unique to yourself. Curly, twisted, long, thick, thin, straight, whatever you hair was, it was a perfect representation of you. That’s why you didn’t want to cut it. “I know, I shouldn’t, but I do.” You whispered. 
Sasha sighed, “How about this, tonight you and I go out to the garden.” She stood up from the bed, walking to you. Taking your hands into hers, “And, we enjoy the pool with the flowers that surround it. It’s said to be the most beautiful place in the church.” She gave you a soft smile, squeezing your hands. 
You blinked a few times, swallowing the saliva that built in your mouth. “Uhm— I,” you pressed your lips together, feeling them move without thought. Swimming in a pool sounds like... You eyes dipped to her chest, catching sight of her cross, you ended up shaking your head. “No, it’s okay, I’m fine. Besides, we’re not allowed to be seen outside of our assigned clothing. That would be a sin.” You disliked saying that word, you disliked it so much.
Because, so many things were considered a sin. 
Sasha nodded, letting go of your hands, “Of course, I forgot about that.” Her tone wasn’t as cheerful as it once was, just more monotone and disappointed. Her hands went to her side, “Let’s get dressed, once I finish I Promise to do your hair.” She said, forcing a smile in your direction. 
You couldn’t help, but give her a sad smile. The two of you didn’t choose to become Nuns, your families forced it upon you. Which, of course, made commiting to Christ more difficult than it normally was for Nuns in training. 
The two of you were young, a mere twenty, and you wished to experience youth like anyone else. Rather than being restricted by the word of God. Giving your body to Christ. Which meant, you were his bride. As a child, you didn’t think that your husband would be the very thing your family worshiped. And, what you repented. 
“How about we go and greet everyone who enters the church today?” You suggest, pressing the palms of your hands to your habit, making sure the silk wasn’t wrinkled. “That sounds like a joy.” You added a smile. 
“I want to swim.” Sasha said, pulling back and holding herself. “I don’t get why I can’t do that.” She mumbled, closing her eyes and sighing. “I just want to have some fun.” You reached a hand for her shoulder, watching her collect herself. Then, “In the name of the Father, and the Son of the Holy Spirit..” Silence. “..Amen.” 
You knew exactly what she was doing. Because, the both of you were conditioned to do it. 
Sasha fluttered her eyes open, slowly bringing her brown beautiful eyes to you. “Okay, let me go get ready.” Sasha pulled herself back, placing a foot behind another. Walking towards your door, while you turned your back to her, diligently watching her move through your vanity. And, she stood at your door. Hand on the handle, froze in her spot. 
You could feel your eyebrows mush, What was she doing? Was she okay? Was something wrong? You twisted your body around, your shoes clicking against the marble flooring as you made your way to her. Pupils moving up and down her frame. You couldn’t stop the word from slipping from your mouth, “Sasha?..” 
“Sister,” her voice made you flinch, stopping you in your tracks. “I’m going to ask Father Jean for forgiveness next week,” she mumbled. Turning her head over her shoulder. “Because, tomorrow tonight at twelve, I will commit a sin of my own pleasure.“ You disliked the fact that something so trivial as swimming, caused such a massive problem within your community. The two of you just wanted to swim. But, you couldn’t.. “And, I think you should join me.” Her words pierced your chest. 
And with that, she left. 
⊹ † ༻✦༺ † ༻✧༺ † ༻✦༺ † ⊹ 
Sunday 8:05 am…
The sound of birds was always the highlight of the morning for you. You loved watching them fly high in the sky. Oh—how you wished to fly free just like them. You always liked to imagine what type of bird you would be. Maybe a crow, you loved the sleek look of them. 
You smiled kindly at those who entered the church, hands pressed against your thighs everytime you bowed. Many of the people who visited this Church were either tourists or regulars. Considering how old and beautiful the building was, people always enjoyed the stunning scenery. From whichever belief they held. 
“Y/n!” You jolted at someone hugging your legs. Looking down at the small body. You couldn’t help but smile when he looked up at you. “It’s been forever since I last saw you!” He shouted. 
You giggled, pressing a finger to your lip. “Hush, love. Not so loud.” You sweetly said, not wanting to bring too much attention to yourself. You placed your hand on his head, pushing some short strands of hair from his face. “But, I’m so happy to see you!” You caressed his face comfortingly. 
His eyes blinked a few times, before a smile exploded from her face. “Me too! Me too!” He whisper–shouted, shoved his face in your habit, mumbling– “The house has been so lonely without you, Y/n.”
“That’s Sister, Luke.” Your father corrected, your mother not too far behind. You could feel your body just crumple, and tense together, almost like it was regressing. You absolutely disliked this part of the day. This was your least favorite part.
Luke looked back at you, a small pain in his eyes. “Oh yeah..” he mumbled, “Sorry, Sister.” His hands went behind his back, his head looking at the ground. 
You could feel your heart break. Before softly nodding, “No, it’s okay.” You reassured, placing your hand in his hair again and rubbing it. “Sometimes even I–” you sighed, your voice wavering for a moment, “Sometimes.. Even I forget.” You placed your hand behind his back, “Besides, you have all your other brothers and sisters!” He just merely nodded.
Your eyes shot to your parents, standing behind Luke. You smiled, before giving them a subtle bow. “Mom, Dad.” You said, “It’s a pleasure.” You stayed there for a moment, not wanting to come back up. It felt like you didn’t have the energy too. 
Your Mother hummed thoughtfully, “It’s good to see you too, Honey. It’s always so good to see how much you’ve grown.” Your Mother cupped your cheek and lifted your face. “We knew this profession was the one for you.” Her thumb rubbing your cheek was supposed to be comforting, it wasn’t. “See, and you didn’t want to do this at first.” 
You pressed your lips together, feeling them wiggle, before giving her a kind smile. “Of course, you two know me too well.” You looked between your Mother and Father. “I’m actually the caretaker for the children.” You added, hands fiddling with one another. 
Your Mother let out a small noise of excitement, “That’s wonderful, Sister. We always knew you were amazing with children.” Her hands went to yours, squeezing them. “You were always so good with your siblings.” Your Mother and Father were always working, so, being the oldest. You were the ones who took care of the children when they were gone. 
You nodded, “I love children.” 
Your Father nodded, while your Mother smiled. “We know, Honey. We know everything about you.” She patted your back, “Why else would we make you do this?” You gave another smile, keeping your body forward as they walked into the church. 
“Oh! And, Honey!” Your Mother called over her shoulder. You turned to them, “We’re dropping Luke off at the daycare, so you can spend some time with him!” She blew you a kiss, “Love you, Sister.” She turned on her heel, grabbing Luke by the hand and separating from your Father. Off to find your room. The daycare.
You shakily breathed out, not realizing you were holding your breath. Clasping your hands together and holding them near your face. Trying to recollect yourself. Closing your eyes and keeping them shut, tight. 
“Are you alright?” 
You fluttered your eyes open, keeping your gaze to the ground. “Huh?” You blinked a few times, “Yes, I’m–” You nodded to yourself, “I’m alright, just a bit.. tired.” Your voice was soft, strained almost. You let go of your hands, pressing them to your sides. 
The person laughed, “That’s good, we wouldn’t want a sad soul at Church.” Their voices cut into your head. Almost like a dizzying spell. So inviting and warm, almost like a scorching hug from an angel. 
Please don’t be.. “Father Jean!” Someone shouted, making the tall pastor turn his head. 
You gasped, turning your head to him. Instantly, your eyes met his side profile. A strong jaw, long lashes, pink soft lips, clear tan skin, and a nose built to perfection. His hair was soft, yet slicked back into a hairstyle he frequented. Dark blonde. What a pretty color. 
Father Jean’s face turned back, meeting your wide-eyed one. Jean’s face is in full display to your wavering eyes. And, that's where they went, to his eyes. A light brown reflecting perfectly in the light, displaying his soul to you. Such a pretty color. Such a pretty face. 
Wow. He’s so pretty. 
Your mouth parted, and his eyes went to your lips. Suddenly, you could feel your heartbeat speed up and flutter, your mouth was so dry. You felt nervous, really nervous. “F–Father Jean, I–” You thickly swallowed, “I apologize, I shouldn’t have–” 
“There’s nothing to apologize for, Sister. You haven’t done anything wrong.” He reassured, his eyes bouncing up and meeting yours. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” And, he smiled. He smiled. Your heart melted, your mind crashing. His smile was perfect. Dimples denting into his honey–like skin. So, kind and welcoming. It felt like you were home. 
“Yes, I’m– I’m okay.” You replied, giving him a forced smile, it was more of an awkward one. “But, aren’t you supposed to be getting ready?” You placed your hands behind your back, looking at the people entering the sacred building. “I mean, isn’t the sermon starting soon?” Your eyes were filled with worry. 
Jean laughed, shaking his head. “I’m afraid you're correct, but I’m not the one speaking today. Father Eren is.” He clarified, a big hand coming to his hair. Slicking back the fly aways, “I’m just just saying hello to everyone entering the Church.” You could hear the disappointment in his voice, even if it was subtle. 
You fluttered your lashes, biting the corner of your lip. “Do you want to–” 
“Yes, more than anything.” He quickly spoke, a smile appearing on his face again. “I love it, it’s one of my favorite parts about being a priest.” He sighed, placing his hands into his pockets. Looking at the sky for a moment, his neck is on full display to you. “But, I’m just going to be doing the body of Christ for today.” His smile wavered for a moment. 
“You sound disappointed, Father.” You noted, watching as he leaned his back against the building’s wall. “Is that something you don’t enjoy doing?” You took a step closer in his direction, tilting your head to the side. 
Jean echoed your moments, lowering his voice. “Don’t tell anyone, but it’s not my favorite.” He mumbled, slightly embarrassed by his confession. “I don’t know, I just don’t necessarily enjoy placing food in people’s mouths.” He visibly cringed, his nose scrunching in distaste. 
You giggled, a hand coming over your mouth. Jean smiled at your reaction, “Well, what’s your favorite thing to do then?” You curiously asked, toying with the cross around your neck. 
He blinked a few times, a chill going up his spine. He disliked when that happened. “Uhm,” He shook his head, “I actually really enjoy confessions.” He said, “It’s something that just makes me feel closer to God.” You watched as he smiled, again. He was such a bubbly and bright person. 
You were jealous. 
But, you could help but feel a part of your body regress at that. Jean was a priest, of course he was going to be extremely religious. He wasn’t like you.. Someone forced into this lifestyle. You subtly sighed, grabbing onto your arm. Not everyone here was like you, it was something you kept forgetting. 
Jean leaned his head back, looking to the side. Whispering, “Something I’ve been really needing this past week.” It sounded like he was talking to himself, rather than to you. And, it sounded like he didn’t want you to hear it. 
“Really?” You gasped, speaking before thinking. He gave you a look, making your face burn with embarrassment. “I mean! You’re just– you’re you! So, I would think..” You stopped talking, feeling your head screaming at you to stop. Pressing your lips together you turned away. 
He chuckled, silently reassuring you. “No, no, I get it.” He reassured, placing a hand on your shoulder. His thumb rubbing in circles, “Being who I am and all.” He could feel you shiver under his touch, and he froze. Before, he shook his head and pulled away, smiling at you kindly. “But, sometimes I have my moments where one or two unholy words slip.” 
You giggled, your hand meeting your shoulder. Already missing the contact between you two. “I guess that's true, Father.” Your mind rushed to this morning with Sasha, her words soaring through your head. “And, I think you should join me.” You thickly swallowed, wondering if you should take her up on her offer. 
“Well, Sister, I think I have to go.” Jean said, “Soon enough, Father Eren is going to start his–” He paused, not wanting to finish the sentence. “Anyways, he always gets bothered if I don’t attend.” His hand went to his hair, pulling back the fly aways. He gave you a final smile, “Until, we meet again, Sister.” 
You watched as he turned away. Entering the Church, just like all the other people. And, you couldn’t help, but feel empty. His company is an enjoyable and new thing to you, something you wanted to last a bit longer. Just a little bit longer. 
“Father Jean!” 
You gasped at your mouth, placing your hand over it. I really need to think before I speak. Jean looked over his shoulder, peering at you. Giving you another kind and acknowledging smile. He was waiting for you to speak. 
And, you didn’t know what to say. You felt your body freeze, “Next week– next Sunday,” you corrected, “I wish to confess, much like yourself, it’s something I’ve been needing this past week.” 
You couldn’t see it, but a shiver went down Jean's spine. And, the cause of it?... Jean thickly swallowed, keeping his face the same. “Of course, I’d be more than glad to be the one to guide you.” And with that, he turned his back to you and walked away. 
⊹ † ༻✦༺ † ༻✧༺ † ༻✦༺ † ⊹ 
“Luke, you can’t just!–” you pressed your lips together, taking in a deep inhale. “You can’t just leave the room without telling me, or Sister Mikasa.” You gestured your hand to the other Nun in the room. Her head turning to you briefly, and giving your brother a small smile. Before, returning to what she was doing. 
“I know, but–” He tried arguing. 
“No buts!” You added, placing your hand on his back and gilding him back into the room. Shutting the door behind you, “We have a restroom, food, coloring, and books. So, there’s no reason to leave, Luke.” You scolded, quickly observing him. Seeing how both his hands were behind his back, holding something. “And, what do you have?” Did he steal something?
Instant his hands were lifted up to your face, showing you a sheer pink scarf. He looked at the ground, “While walking here with mom, I dropped it, then went to go find it.” His fingers wrapped around the thin fabric, toying with the material. 
Your lips parted, guilt plaguing up your spine. “Oh, uh–” you shook your head, “You still should’ve told me, we could’ve looked for it together.” You cupped his cheek, bending down and kissing his forehead. “I just don’t want you getting hurt.” 
Luke nodded, “Okay, I’m sorry,” he mumbled. 
You giggled, grabbing the fabric from his fingers. Whispering, “But thank you, Luke.” You ruffled his hair, watching as his face lit up. Running into you and wrapping his arms around your legs. You laughed, nodding your head. You quickly stuffed the scarf into your habit, you find a place to put it later. 
It was something your grandmother gave you before her passing. Unfortunately, due to it being a pleasure, you weren’t allowed to bring it to the church with you. Which broke your heart to say the least. It was the only thing you had left of her. You refused to loose it. 
“Sister?” Mikasa called, glancing at your clock. “It’s about an hour to the body of Christ, should we start cleaning up?” She told you, holding one of the younger kids in her arms. Cradling her as she started to fall asleep. “Or, should we start taking the kids to the main room?” 
Mikasa was a woman a bit older than you, twenty. She was the embodiment of Sister Mary. Tall, kind, strict, yet relaxed. Her skin was soft and clear, like snow freshly laid. Lips pink and shiny, her cheeks lightly tinted red. Mikasa was someone you strived to be like, the ideal Nun. Graceful and beautiful, like a dove. 
Not a crow. 
You shook your head, “Parent’s sometimes pick their children up during the small break. We’ll start taking them in twenty minutes before the body of christ.” You stuffed the scarf into your habit. “But, starting to clean up, doesn't sound like a bad idea, Sister.” 
Mikasa nodded, placing the child down. Wrapping her with a soft blanket you laid out specifically for the children. “Okay children, how about we start cleaning up the play area.” She announced, smiling sweetly at everyone. The children groaned, which made you giggle. 
Mikasa walked into the play area connected to your room, flashing you a smile. “I’ll take care of the playroom cleaning, you want to take care of your room?” 
You nodded, “That works with me.” Mikasa nodded and walked into the playroom with all the children, Luke staying by your side. You sighed, looking down at him. “Want to help me clean?” 
Luke just nodded, picking up some of the drawings that were left on the floor. Your ears perked to the sound of knocking, immediately drawing your attention to your wooden door. Was a parent here to pick up their child already? 
You reached for the door, pulling it open. “Hello, and who would be your child..” 
Father Jean tilted his head to the side, a kind smile on his lips. “Don’t have any kids.” He looked to the side for a moment, before laughing to himself. “Yet.” 
You could feel your lips part for a second, before shaking your head. “Uhm, then– if you don’t mind me asking.. What do you need?” You placed your hands behind your back, feeling Luke behind you. Hiding behind your leg, looking at Father Jean. 
Jean’s eyes met your brothers, and he kindly waved at him. “It’s not a problem at all, Sister.” His eyes danced around the room, almost like he was looking for something. “Is Sister Mikasa here?” 
You could feel your heart squeeze for a moment, almost hurt. “Uhm..” You looked away. Your heart aching, why did it bother you so much? “Yeah, she’s in the playroom with the children cleaning up.” You pushed open the door, silently indicating for him to come inside. “I’ll go get her.” You pulled Luke with you, leading him to the room and telling him to help the children clean.  
Jean nodded, walking into the room. You quickly walked to the playroom, searching for Mikasa. “Sister,” you called, watching as her head moved to you. “Uhm, Father Jean is here for you.” You pointed inside your room. 
Mikasa’s eyebrows met together, almost in a concerned way. “Father Jean?..” She mumbled, standing up and stumbling over her footing. Which caught you off guard. Mikasa was always such a collected and calm woman, you’ve never seen her stutter– let alone trip over her own feet. 
What was worrying her?
“Did he say any reason to why?” Mikasa sounded– strained. 
“Uhm,” you looked back at Jean, then back to her. Shaking your head, “No, h-he just asked for you, that’s all.” You responded, moving to the side and allowing her to walk into your room. 
Mikasa’s hand rested on her waist, looking at Father Jean expectantly. “Father, you called?” She asked, head tilting to the side. “What do you need?” 
Jean’s eyes moved to you, then Mikasa. Smiling sweetly at her, “Father Eren is calling for you, I’d suggest going to search for him.” He looked to the side, “Actually, if I remember correctly, he’s in the small break area. You know how he is.” Jean smiled, “He needs his voice to rest before speaking again. He just wants your company.” 
Mikasa looked at you, “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I have to clean, maybe when we return the children to their parents for the body of christ.” She replied, about to walk back when Jean cut her off. 
“I’ll stay.” He said, walking to her and smiling sweetly. “You know Father Eren needs your  company to regain energy, I’ll stay.” He placed his hand on her lower back, leading her to the door. “Don’t worry, I work wonderfully with children.” 
Mikasa looked at you, “Oh Sister, I hope this doesn't bother you. Father Eren just gets… cranky when not tended to.” Her hands moved to hold each other, an act to comfort herself. “He’s such a child sometimes..” She whispered, more to herself then anybody. 
You couldn’t help, but look back at Jean. Your heart racing in your chest, the thought of spending one on one time with each other. Albeit, there were many children around– you were still grateful. Your crush on Father Jean could be sated with a mere glance his way. “N-no, it’s okay, Sister. It’s nothing to worry about, I’m sure I’ll be okay.” You kindly smiled at her. 
Mikasa returned it, before walking away. You slowly shut the door, back pressed to it as you looked at Jean. Heart racing in your chest, “Uhm, as of now we’re just cleaning up. Nothing too interesting.” You informed. 
“That’s fine,” he kindly dismissed, “Is there anything I can do to help.” His hand went into his pockets, “I’m all around when it comes to these things.” 
You giggled, cheeks burning. “Uhm, you can just help me here.” You gestured around your room, “I’m sure the children are having a field day noticing there isn’t an adult in the room.” You laughed to yourself, “Last time, one of the kids became the president.” There was a whole republican and democrat party. 
Jean laughed, hand covering his mouth. “I think I heard about that.” He said through laughs, “If I remember correctly, the party names were onion and apple, right?” 
You giggled, nodding your head. “It was crazy what can happen within a few minutes.” You replied, kneeling to the ground and continuing to pick up all the papers. Being careful not to wrinkle any of the drawings. 
Jean watched you, “Kids are so creative nowadays.” Jean walked towards you, lifting your head. “Wait, you have something in your..” He pulled off the piece of paper, holding it in front of you with a smile. “Here.” 
You smiled, taking the paper from him. Eyes fluttering as his hand pulled away from his face, his contact burning into your skin. “Thank you.” you whispered. Eyes looking up at him. 
Jean blinked a few times, his Adam's apple bobbing before he smiled. Dimples denting into his perfect skin, “Of course, anything for you, Sister.” He pulled back, hands going back into his pockets. 
You were going to make conversation again, when he spoke. “I’ll go help the children, we don’t need another party debate.” Jean turned on his heel, walking into the other room. Leaving you sitting on the heels of your feet. 
Did he not want to speak with you? 
It wasn’t long before the cleaning had finished, and Father Jean had to leave. Which you couldn’t help, but feel hurt by. Mikasa had finally returned as well, so at least you weren’t the only one taking care of the children. Which was a relief. 
You nodded to yourself, before turning to the children in the room. “Okay, okay. Children!” you announced, watching as all the small heads turned in your direction. “We’re going to start heading down to the church hall, start cleaning up so we can leave.” You informed, grabbing a piece of paper from the ground and tossing it in the trash.
“Bread!” A small child shouted, making you giggle. 
“Wine!” 
You could feel your eyes widen, looking at Mikasa, seeing she was holding a similar expression. Before the two of you burst out laughing, looking away from the child. She placed her hand on their head, “Maybe, not wine.. But, there will definitely be bread.” She corrected. 
“I believe Father Jean is doing bread today,” Mikasa loudly remarked, looking at you. You couldn’t help but notice how her cheeks darkened in color, a smile plastered over her lips. “That’s something I don’t want to miss.” 
You felt your eyebrows come together. Did she… like him? You brought your head down, “Looks as if you really like, Father.” You smiled at the baby in your arms. Pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, your eyes glancing up for a second. Looking at Mikasa’s reaction to your statement. You felt your eye twitch. 
Mikasa had her hands pressed to her face, covering the massive blush decorating her face. “Is that what people think?..” She muttered, looking at the ground. 
“No.” You respond instantly, before quickly catching yourself. “I was just messing with you, I didn’t think..” That was a lie, you knew. You just asked Mikasa to confirm your suspicion. Wait.. you just sinned, again. What was happening to you?.. 
It didn’t take long before the two of you were leading the group of children to the main hall. Reunited them with their loving parents. Before going into line for the body of Christ. You joined along with your family, standing behind them. Making brief conversation with your parents. 
You sighed, finding yourself at the front of the line. Keeping your gaze to the floor, finding yourself exhausted from speaking with your parents. 
“Sister.” Someone greeted. And, you wanted to die on the spot. From your last interaction, you wondered if he wanted nothing to do with you. He dismissed you so quickly…
“Father,” you returned, “Nice to see you again.” You lifted your head again, smiling at him. 
Jean nodded his head in return. “It’s nice to see you as-well, Sister.” He grabbed a thin piece of bread and lifted it up. “I hope the children didn’t give you much trouble, I didn’t want to leave too early.” He said, forcing a smile in your direction. Jean was tense. 
You looked at his hand, seeing as gold rings decorated his fingers. So, you were right about the jewelry thing. “Of course not, I always enjoy their company.” You responded, placing your hands around the cross on your chest. “I always enjoy anyone’s company.” 
Jean could feel a shiver go down his spine. He disliked his small tick so much. You parted your lips and Jean felt his eye twitch. Jean’s gaze hardened, like he was concentrated. You noticed and for some reason– it felt intimidating.
You tilted your head up and looked at the bread. Jean’s eyes dilated, bringing the bread close to your mouth. “Body of Christ.” 
You could feel yourself freeze. “I don’t know, I don’t necessarily enjoy placing food in people’s mouths.” You closed your mouth, quickly giving him a sheepish smile. “Father Jean, please excuse me, it’s a habit.” You informed, placing your hand over his. Holding onto his much larger hand, “Allow me.” You grabbed the bread from his hand. “It must seem like I disregarded your boundaries.” 
Jean blinked a few times, shaking his head. His eyes dancing from his hand to yours. “No, no. It’s okay, I didn’t mind.” He said, turning his head to the side for a moment. “I must’ve forgotten..” He bit the inside of his cheek.  
You nodded, “I did too, Father. Don’t worry.” You pressed the thin bread against your tongue, looking down for a second as your tongue slipped over your finger. Before running over your bottom lip.
“..at me.”
You tilted your head up, seeing that Jean was already looking at you. You could feel your cheeks burn, “I’m sorry, what was that, Father?” You absolutely disliked asking people to repeat themselves. You tilted your head to the side, looking away for a moment, unable to keep eye contact. Why? You didn’t know. 
“Father Eren is going to be so angry at me.” He told you, “I think I’ve been giving out the wrong bread.” He said with a chuckle, looking down at the table and basket. His hands came to his side, fidgeting with the material of his black shirt. 
You felt your lip wiggle, trying to contain the laughter bubbling in your throat. But, it slipped out, “Oh Father, if need be, I’m sure you can always confess.” You quickly collected yourself, placing the tips of your fingers to your lips. “I’m sure even priests have their moments of sin.” Why would I say that? 
Jean blinked at you a few times, before smiling, “It’s true. Shameful to admit, but I have struggled of my own.” Then, he nodded his head. “I suppose you’re right, confession does sound nice right about now..” he looked at the roof for a second. Elegant paintings of moments written in the bible looking back at him. 
You nodded, agreeing with him. “Maybe, we should confess together, Father.” You mumbled, not so much telling him, but saying it to yourself. 
“Maybe, we should.” He responded. Still looking up, giving you a nice sight of his neck. With Jean being that tall, and from where you were standing, it looked as if you were on your knees giving him.. 
“Is that a scarf?” He whispered, leaning into you slightly. His eyes dipping down to your chest. Curiosity filling them. 
You could feel your cheeks burn, when did he start looking at you?.. “Oh gosh, I–” You reached up, tucking the fabric into your habit. You thickly swallowed, “I– uh, yes, it is.” You mumbled, “My brother gave it to me, and I couldn’t refuse him.” You added. 
He smiled, nodding his head. “Don’t worry,” he pushed his finger to his lips, “It’ll be our little secret.” You tilted your head, the word sin– filling your head. 
But, you blinked a few times, before bowing your head. “Goodbye, Father.” Then, you walked away. Closing your eyes and shaking the impure thought that came to your head away. Jean’s eyes followed you for a moment, before returning them to the person in front of him. 
“Father.” They greeted, and Jean cringed. He really did. 
“Sister Mary.” He followed. 
⊹ † ༻✦༺ † ༻✧༺ † ༻✦༺ † ⊹ 
Sasha laid on your bed, a blanket over her body and sighing out dramatically. “I think Father Jean’s been hooking up with someone,” she announced. Bringing her hands to her face and messing with her fingers. “He’s been acting weird.” 
You could feel your heart drop. “You think so?!” You disliked how worried you sounded. Sasha gave you a look that made you instantly correct your tone. “I mean, do you think so?..” You placed your hair brush down on your vanity, looking at her through your mirror.
She giggled, nodding her head. “And, I think you have a small thing for him.” She added, grabbing the scarf from your bed and playing with it. Enjoying the thin yet silky fabric between her fingers. She held it up to you, “You know if Sister Mary sees this she’ll be mad.”
You sighed, leaning back in your chair. Reaching for the scarf. “I know, I know, but my brother gave this to me. I couldn’t say no.” You got up, walking to your drawer. “And, I don’t want to throw it out. I–” you sighed, “I really like it, it’s cute.” 
“Uh–Hu, totally.” She stood up, glancing at the clock in your room. “Just hide it somewhere you know she won’t find it.” Sasha stretched out her arms, cracking her fingers. “I’ll lend you the–” 
“I’m not hiding my scarf in your crusty box.” You glared at her, stuffing the fabric in your habit, rather than the drawer. It would be safer if it was on you. 
 “Okay, it’s almost time, it’s now or never, Sister.” She grabbed your hands, pulling you to the door. “Let’s get going!” You disliked how excited she sounded. Because, deep down, you were equally as excited. Maybe you were mixing it with fear. I mean, they practically felt the same. 
“I don’t know, I just feel like..” 
Sasha shushed you, “If you think about it too much you’ll hurt your brain,” she said, grabbing the two towels by the door and placing them under her arm. “Sister Mary should be asleep by now, it’s the perfect time!” 
You rubbed your arm, looking to the side. “Sister, we don’t even have bathing suit, how are we supposed to–” 
“I’ve already thought about that.” And instantly, she was pulling at her outfit. Removing the layers of thick, black, clothing. “We’ll just swim in our underwear. I mean,” she shrugged, placing her habit on the floor gently. “It’s practically the same thing as a swimsuit.” 
You keep your eyes to the ground, “And what if someone sees us?!” You argued. Finally looking at her. 
Sasha shook her head, “No one’s going to see us, Sister.” She reassured, grabbing one of the towels and wrapping it around her body. “Now, c’mon, get naked with me!” 
“No.” 
Sasha pulled at your hand, “C’mon! You know you want to.” She cooed, doing a small dance. 
You couldn’t help but giggle. “Okay, okay, fine. I’ll go.” You admitted, grabbing the other towel from her. “But, only for ten minutes.” You asserted, pointing a direct finger at her. 
Sasha nodded. “Yes, anything you want.” A devious smile came over her lips, her hands grabbing the scarf inside your habit. Placing it and tying it around her head, “Now, get naked!” 
⊹ † ༻✦༺ † ༻✧༺ † ༻✦༺ † ⊹ 
They weren’t lying when they said the pool was beautiful. It was surrounded by a grove of flowers, all different shades of the rainbow. Mixing together like an experienced painter making a beautiful painting. Right next to the pool was an equality as beautiful Labyrinth garden. 
The sky above, the full moon reflecting the pool water, and a cool breeze flowing over you. You tilted your head back, dipping your hair into the water. Bringing your head back up and using your hands to push it out of your face. 
“See! I told you this was a good idea!” Sasha boasted, swimming backwards. “And, what a beautiful night to do it too!” She stopped, starfishing in the water. 
You swam by her side, looking up at the sky. Seeing the stars shining down at you. You couldn’t help but feel awe-struck. You were never allowed outside the church past nine, and now you were swimming in a pool, half naked, at twelve in the morning, looking at the stars with your best friend Sasha. It felt like a fever dream. Maybe, it was a dream and soon you were going to wake up. 
You didn’t want to wake up..
“It’s so pretty,” you voiced, lifting your feet from the ground and floating in the water like Sasha. Fully relaxing while you looked at the sky, “I miss this feeling.” You whispered. 
“Me too,” Sasha said. “I miss being a regular teen. I miss being a teen.” You could hear the whimper in Sasha’s voice. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my religion, but not this much.” 
The thing you and Sasha had in common was… you two were forced to become Nuns. 
“I miss it too,” you were forced to grow up so fast. “But, I enjoy the time I spend here.” You told her, moving your head to the side and looking at Sasha. She was looking at you, smiling. 
“Yeah, we thought we heard something.” 
And, you two shared the exact same expression, at the exact same time. Pure, unrequited, fear. Oh, you two were dead, and you two didn’t even confess! Sister Mary was going to send you two to hell. 
You two immediately rushed out of the water, grabbing your towels and diving for one of the tall bushes. Hiding behind it and looking at the pool entrance through the leaves. 
“This is exactly why I said we should have splashed, it’s way too loud!” You whispered at Sasha, ignoring the urge to punch her. Until, you watched who walked into the entrance. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” 
Father Jean, Father Eren, and Sister Mary. 
Sasha deeply inhaled, then exhaled. Closing her eyes, tilting her head back, clasping her hands and sighing. “I’m sorry, Sister.” She said, fluttering her lashes. “But, we’re so dead.” 
“I’m going to kill you.” You groaned, looking back through the leaves. Seeing the three look at the pool. Which was clearly disturbed, softly sloshing around. All their eyes were on it, everyone knew someone was in the pool. 
“Well, I can look around the area.” Eren voiced, glancing around. “Or, Jean can too.” 
You looked at the table and immediately cringed. Turing to Sasha, “Sasha, did you bring my scarf with you?” You slowly turned to her, eyebrows mushed together. Showing your anger. 
Sasha blinked a few times, glancing through the leaves. Seeing your scarf on the table. She grimaced, “Well, I didn’t think that..” she shook her head, “It doesn't matter, no one will know it’s yours.” She argued. 
“Yes it does matter!” You said, almost a little too loud. “Father Jean has seen me with my scarf, he knows it’s mine!” You looked back out, sighing. “We’re so dead.” 
Sister Mary sighed, “Well, if we can’t find the culprit, it could mean they’re still on the ground.” She went back to the entrance, placing her hand on the wall. “I’ll go roundup all the sisters, just to make sure they’re safe.” She nodded, then turned on her heel. 
Eren nodded, “Sister, I think it will be fine. I’ll glance around the church and make sure no one is here.” He smiled, “There’s no need to worry everyone over something that could just be an animal.” He reassured, and he turned to Jean. “Just check around the area.” 
Jean nodded. Then, the two of them left. 
You turned to Sasha. “Okay, you go, and I’ll try to get my scarf.” You looked back at the table, glancing at Jean for a second. Biting your lip and sighing silently. You were not getting that scarf back. 
Sasha nodded, putting a hand on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Y/n.” Sasha looked at Jean, making sure he wasn’t looking, before dashing to the exit.
You sighed, watching Jean walk around the water. Holding your breath as he passed by the bush you were hiding behind. You just needed him to leave, then you could grab your scarf. 
Jean walked to the table, his eyes landing on the scarf. And, you cringed. He saw it, there’s no way he didn’t see it. His fingers moved over the table, landing on your scarf. Pulling it up to his face, then looking to the church. You softly groaned, you weren’t getting that scarf back. 
The worst part was, he most likely knew it was your. Considering how he saw it not too long ago. 
“Bless me Father,” he softly said, your ears perking at his deep voice. A shiver going down your spine that made you shift your thighs together. “For I have sinned.” You disliked the effect his voice had on you.
Jean placed the fabric behind him, stuffing it into his pocket. Shaking his head and walking into the flowery grove. Surrounded by tall, green, fluffy bushes. It was almost like a corn maze, except the center was filled with statues, and a beautiful fountain. It was a place most tourists like to visit during open church hours. 
You quietly followed him, keeping the towel wrapped around your body. Your bare feet hitting the soft green grass. Sending a discomforting shiver up your spine. You ignored it, taking a different path to the center fountain, making the inference that’s where Jean was going. 
You were correct. 
Jean rested on the fountain wall, lifting his hand to the water. Looking at the statue of the Virgin Mary in front of him. You stayed behind the bush, looking through the leaves. You could see your thin scarf peeking from his pants. 
If only you could grab it. 
“Father, and the Holy Spirit.” Jean softly said, his voice deep and smooth, pressing his palm to the fountain's ledge. Placing one knee to the ground, followed by the other. His hands clasped together, “Please, speak to me. I’m in dire need of your assistance.”
You should leave. You shouldn't be watching Jean on his knees, praying to God. This was private. Sacred. Speaking to your one God, was a sacred and private experience. Not something for all wondering eyes and ears to witness. You need to leave. 
But. You need your scarf. 
You sighed, pulling back from the bush, and turning your back to it. Looking at the starry night. 
“I’m struggling, pleading, praying, for your help lord.” Jean sighed, “I can’t keep this up anymore, I feel as if— I’m going insane—“ he thickly swallowed, “Immoral, impure, sinful—“ 
A shiver shot down your spine. You pressed your hand over your lips. Closing your eyes. 
“I can’t control myself.” His free hand went to his pocket, pulling out your scarf. “It’s like a burning desire, turning me to sin.” His hands wrapped around the fabric, before his hands clasped together again. Bowing his head. 
“Everytime I see her, it feels like hands– her hands are crawling around my body. Grabbing me and pulling me in her direction. When I get close enough, I feel like holding her down and hearing her cry. I want to see her cry.” Jean shook his head, “I want her on her knees, worshiping me. Only me, I want to be her devotion.” 
No way. 
There was no way Father Jean said that. 
The most religious man you know, someone who enjoyed doing confessions, always donated what he could to the church, and openly spoke about his devotion to his religion. There was no way he was confessing about… something so– forbidden. 
You deeply inhaled. You need to leave. Your scarf was going to have to wait. It had to wait. Maybe, if you were lucky, he was going to give it to you tomorrow. Along with a stern scolding from Sister Mary. 
You took a step forward, but unbeknownst to you. There stood a very, very crunchy leaf. 
The silence was deathly. 
You clasped your hands together, holding them over your face, and deeply sighing. I’m so dead. 
Jean’s head perked up, “Who’s there?” Jean's voice sounded panicked. You were right, no one was supposed to hear that. And, you just did. 
You shook your head. There was no way you made that mistake, you just imagined it. There was no way you were that careless. You could hear Jean’s heavy footsteps coming in your direction. 
You were that careless. 
You pushed yourself off the bush wall, trying to silently walk away. When Jean grabbed your wrist, making you stop dead in your tracks. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you could feel your throat constricting. 
“I believe Church doors closed several hours ago.” Jean sounded different. Deeper and intimidating, almost like he was.. mad. His hand around your wrist only made you realize how much bigger he was than you. 
You thickly swallowed, turning your head to him. Sheepishly smiling. Blowing a wet piece of hair from your face. 
His pupils dilated, his grip tightening. “I caught you.” 
You thickly swallowed, finding your mouth dry. “I know, Father. But, I just wanted to swim and then you grabbed my—“ 
“Scarf.” He finished for you, looking at the thin fabric. Still wrapped around his free hand. He thickly swallowed, his eyes dipping up and down your frame. “Did you hear anything?” You disliked how scared he sounded.
You shook your head softly, “I just saw you holding my scarf, then started to leave.” You lied. 
Jean's eyes darkened. “You know, lying is a form of sin.” You could feel your heart drop deeper in your chest. His grip on you was hot. 
“I’m not— but I’m not..” Why were you stuttering so much? Your eyes met his, and you could feel your body burn. You closed your mouth, quickly composing yourself. “Father Jean, I’m afraid I’m not lying.” You disliked how you were lying directly to a priest. Your favorite priest, more specifically.
Jean pulled you into the center of the maze. Not saying a word, you don’t know if it was scary or exhilarating. When he let go. 
“What are you—“
“Pray.” He demanded. Looking down at you, “As someone who serves the lord, I hate seeing someone blatantly sin in front of me.” 
Jean sounded strained, deep, and almost... Was he trying to intimidate you? “Father Jean, are you Afraid I heard you?” You innocently asked, “Because, all I saw was you on your knees, praying.” With my scarf wrapped between your hands, begging for forgiveness. “That’s it.” 
Jean raised an eyebrow at you, walking to the edge of the fountain, and sitting down. His legs naturally spread open. Your eyes remained trained on his face, “Really?” Jean asked condescendingly, his head tilting to the side. He didn’t believe you. “You told me you wanted to confess, why don’t you do that now.” 
“Fine.” You reassured. “But, only because it makes you feel comfortable.” You placed a knee to the ground, followed by the other one. Awkwardly holding the towel to your almost naked body. Tilting your head up, and looking at him. “Father, and son of the Holy Spirit, allow me to speak with you.” You bowed your head, fluttering your eyes closed. 
“If you’re going to pray, do it properly.” Jean voiced, “Hands together, Sister Y/n.” Your name on his tongue was heaven. Maybe even hell. 
You disliked being called Sister, to the point where being called your real name made you jump in your seat with surprise. It also started a fire deep inside you. “Father, I can’t, I’m not wearing much under the towel.” You softly muttered, keeping your eyes to the ground. You were embarrassed, you could feel your skin on fire. 
Everything was on fire. 
Jean didn’t say anything, just brought the tip of his rather clean shoe, to the bottom of your chin. Lifting your face up to look at his. You could feel your teeth digging into your bottom lip as you looked at him. Thighs desperately mushing together. 
Your name. He called you by your name.
“Well, isn’t that a shame.” Jean said, pupils blown wide. His eyes were dark, scary, sinful. You’ve never seen Jean like this. “Do it properly.” His foot went back to the ground, and he lowered his head. Grabbing your face, “Please.” He whined. 
He whined that. 
Jesus Christ. 
You thickly swallowed, blinking at him. Tears pearling in your eyes with arousal, making them glassy in the moonlight. You just nodded your head, hesitantly bringing your hands together. Your towel pooling around your body. 
Jean’s head tilted to the side. “Go ahead, I’m listening.” 
You could feel your mind racing, what was going on? “Father Jean, I–” your mind drifted, “Are you going to tell Sister Mary about this?” You thickly swallowed, looking to the side. Your hands messing with your damp hair, “Because, she is going to–” 
“Should I?” Jean rested his face on his palm. Staring at you. Into you.
“No, you shouldn't. If she found out, I’d be–” 
“Then, maybe I should.” Jean scowled at you, eyebrows furrowed. 
Who were you talking to? This didn’t seem like Jean at all. What happened to the sweet Church priest who loved everyone? The one who seemed like he was always smiling. Suddenly, you could feel your eyebrows mush together. “Are you threatening me?”
Jean's expression remained, like he was disgusted with you. “Did you hear anything I said?” 
You glared at him, trying to ignore the burning sensation in your lower belly. A secret you pushed so far back after you accepted your new life, now bubbling back into your body. 
You loved being treated like this. 
You deeply inhaled, “I’ll ask you again, are you threatening me?” 
“Yes.” 
Your eyes widened, shocked by his bluntness. Before pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Letting out a small giggle, “So, I guess there’s no reason for me to keep lying then.” You tilted your head, “I heard how much you want to fuck a girl.” You placed your hand on his tight, resting your head on the other one. Looking directly at his eyes, “Or, worship you, was the word. Correct me if I’m wrong.” 
Jean kept his blank expression, his hand pushing a strand of hair from your face. His hand slowly moving down to your throat, fingers skimming over it softly. As light as a feather. “You need to learn when to shut the fuck up, that mouth of yours is going to get in trouble.” 
You tilted your head, enjoying Jean’s hands on you. “I doubt it.” You whispered. Your gasped at his hand tightening around your throat, a small moan leaving your lips. 
Jean grimaced at you, “You really are a whore. Into disgusting things like this.” His eyes darkened, watching as your thighs moved together. “What would our God think?” He mocked. 
“You must be one lucky bitch.” You replied, eyes fluttering. You hummed thoughtfully, “I wonder what the church would think if that information got out?” You smiled at him, “I guess, you’re not the only one who wears a mask– you’re just like me.” You ran your hand further up his thigh, pupils blown. “You’re just another corrupt priest–” 
Your back hit the ground, knocking the wind out of you. Jean pinning you to the ground, his hand wrapped around your throat. “Shut. The fuck. Up.” He grit. 
You just giggled, letting your hands roam his chest. “Mm, keep talking. I love that tone in your voice.” You mocked, “Makes me want to see you on your knees, begging to fuck me.” 
Jean thickly swallowed, shaking his head as he tried not to smile. “Jesus, who would’ve thought one of the Nuns was such a whore.” He scowled.
You shrugged, running your tongue over your bottom lip. Eyes dipping down then up, looking at Jean’s prominent bulge. “You know you love it.” You lifted your leg, running your shin against his cock. “Tell me, how small are you? Men with tempers are all talk, no size.” You mocked.
Jean’s head dipped down to your neck, removing his hand, as he peppered your skin with kisses. “You want to get on your knees, and find out?” You did. He bit your shoulder, making you stifle a moan. “Ask me who I was thinking about.” 
You tilted your head to the side, fluttering your lashes. You didn’t want to know who Jean was lusting over, especially when you were lusting for Jean. It felt like a jab in the heart, something painful you didn’t want to hear. You asked anyway, “Who were you thinking about?” You slightly pulled away from him. 
Jean noticed, his eyes picking up on the glossy outline of yours. He softly smiled, before masking it again. He hated how he had a soft spot for you. “You.” He mumbled, pushing his knee in between your legs. Sucking on your neck lightly, “Since you’ve gotten here, all I could think about was fucking you until you cry.” Jean was to see you cry. “You don’t know how many times I’ve stayed up, praying to God– only to fuck my hand to the thought of you.” It was horrible. 
You couldn’t help, but feel your chest swell with pride. You ground your cunt against his leg, moaning out softly. “Really? You’re so gross.” You groaned, running a hand through his hair. Lifting your back off the ground as he trailed his hands around your bra. Desperately trying to find the clip. His lips attached to the exposed parts of your tits. 
Jean hummed out, nodding his head. “C’mon, lift those hips for me.” He groaned, “I want to feel you against my cock.” You moaned at his words. You watched as Jean tossed your bra to the side, grabbing your waist with one hand and bringing you against his hips. 
You could feel his cock. Holy shit. 
Jean laughed at your wide-eyes reaction, grabbing your hand while leaning towards your tits. Giving you some light placed kisses. “See, look how hard you make me.” He moaned against your skin, his hand guiding yours over his aching cock. Rubbing it through his pants. His free hand was placed over your lower stomach, pressing down on it slightly. “That’s going all the way inside you.” 
You shivered. Your pussy clenching around nothing. Ugh, why was he so hot? 
“You wish.” You mumbled, arching your back as his lips wrapped around your nipple. Eyes fluttering shut. “Your gross dick isn’t going anywhere near me.” You placed your hands on his chest, pushing him away from you. 
Jean darkly chuckled against your skin, pulling back and looking at the way you were laying on the floor. Hips pressed against his, rubbing against him nicely, arms near your chest, and hands softly pressing against him. “Your body’s sayin’ something else.” He pressed. He pressed his forearm to your hip, his fingers tracing over your panties. “But, if that's what you want.” He shrugged, “I don’t care.” 
“I don’t need to use my dick to make you cum.” 
Jean smiled, shaking his head. He pushed you away, making you land on your hands. Watching as pulled himself away from you, sitting on the fountain's ledge again, and unbuckling his belt, his hands undoing his pants. “You need to learn some manners.” He growled, “Let’s teach you a lesson.” 
Was he going to make you suck his cock? You could feel your mind race, eye fluttering at the thought alone. You just wanted to feel him inside you, whether that be your throat or..
I shouldn’t be doing this.. 
Jean’s hand reached into his pants, pulling out his thick cock. A huge one might you add. One of the biggest you've ever seen. Well, it was the only one you've ever seen. The tip flushed red, and was oozing with pre-cum. A vein traveling underneath the head of his cock, to the base. Your pussy clenched. That was going to go.. Inside you. All the way inside you. 
You scooted closer, placing your hands on his knees and opening your mouth. The palm of Jean’s hand went over your mouth, keeping you away. “Nu-uh, only good girls get to suck cock.” He mocked, pushing you away from him. “You need to learn some discipline.” 
You blinked at him, your eyes shining from the starry night. “H-huh?” You stupidly asked. Sitting on your heels, hands meeting together in your lap. “Discipline?...” You mumbled. 
Jean smiled, nodding his head. “Awh, that’s right. Discipline.” He moved his hand to the base of his cock, “What? Never heard of that word?” 
You watched his hand move up and down his cock, his throat straining. You hated the way every movement he did, transferred to you. Making your body hot with desire. Watching and hearing the way his hand glided over his cock in a fast rhythm. 
You wished you could remove the deep sweltering desire building within you. Maybe, feel Jean’s  hands over your body to help. Feeling his hand trail over your breast, your waist, neck, and near the throbbing sensation between your legs. That would calm down your sweltering body, right?
Fuck. Hopefully. 
Jean couldn't refuse someone begging for his touch, right? Begging him to fuck them? 
You crossed your legs, slightly squirming in place. Hot pants leaving your glossy lips as your eyes fluttered softly. Your legs awkwardly mushing together as a slick developed between them. Trying to ease the burning desire within you.
Jean’s eyes danced over your pathetic attempt to relieve yourself, his eyes going dark. Why the hell were you so sexy? He couldn’t hold it back, his throat constricting– a whiny 'fuuck..' leaving his glossy lips. 
You nearly lost it. The heat between your legs becoming painful. You couldn't help, but whimper. Would he at least let you draw shapes on your clit? Help with the desperation. You swallowed, feeling embarrassed from your thoughts–the whole situation. Your Priest fucking his hand in front of you, getting off on you watching him. 
Yeah.. This was a bad situation for you. Really bad. 
Despite the situation, Jean didn't stop. Just took a quick glance at you, before tilting his head back. Another scratchy groan leaving him, his Adam's apple bob slightly. Hot pants and strings of curses leaving his mouth every other second. 
God. 
"Ready for your punishment?" You blinked a few times, lips slightly parted as you mindlessly nodded. You felt yourself softly getting pulled closer to him. You slightly flinched once his free hand pushed your hair out of your face, feeling yourself become more jumpy in the situation. Every sensation is like fire against your skin. Everything felt so good.
So unbearably good.
Jean’s rather large hand pumping up and down his cock lewdly. "I have the perfect punishment in mind." He watched the way you squirmed. Slowly looking back at him, trying to ignore the thing you so desperately wanted to see. 
Jean had no shame, he wanted to see you squirm. Wanted to see you pant and look at him with desire. Hot fucking desire. Jean smiled mockingly at you, his dimples denting into his skin. "Ask me what it is." He persisted. You took your lip between your teeth. 
"What's my… punishment?" You asked with uncertainty. Sitting on your heels, and slightly arching toward him with anticipation. Eyes fluttering. 
Jean cupped your face, tilting it to look directly into his eyes. "You're going to sit there, look pretty, while I fuck my hand." He slightly sat up, grabbing the back of your head along with a handful of your hair. Seeing the way you slightly moaned as he pulled your head to his face, noses practically touching. "Alright, pretty girl?" You obediently nodded, awkwardly pulling your attention to his cock. Watching the way his hand moved. His other hand planted in your skull. You felt him bring your head down, bring you in front of his cock. 
Jean wanted to see you suck his cock so badly. See you struggle maybe even enjoy the way you couldn't deep throat him like he wanted you too. That wouldn't matter, he'd still force your head down. Seeing you gag and look up to him. 
Because, Jean was disgusting like that. He'd get off on your struggle, and a part of him says you'd enjoy it too. You softly moaned. Finding yourself naturally spreading your legs as you leaned forward. Your fingers moving to your clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive nub. 
Jean fastened his pace. Finding himself getting closer. Which was a surprise for him. Although, with watching you play with your pussy, that more than likely played a part. You rolled your hips down into your fingers, groaning with frustration and pleasure. Jean's eyes never leaving your exposed form. 
Sucha’ cute Nun. His cute Nun. 
You bit your lip, finding no other way to react to the groans reaching your ears. Almost concealed by the water fountain behind him. But, oh no, you could still hear them, clear as the night sky. Almost as if he was right next to you, trying to sound as indecent as he could. A shaky exhale left you. 
Tears pearling around your eyes was throwing him near the edge. The way you were slightly begging with those round eyes of yours. So pure and innocent. You didn't even know what to do with yourself. You were just waiting for him to do something to you. While he got off to that thought alone. 
That thought alone made Jean realize how painfully horny he was for you. How much he wanted to grab you by your hips, and pressed your face into the floor while he fucked you. Seeing you squirm, and moan over his cock. Maybe, even praise you for taking him whole. 
But, this was a punishment, Jean reminded himself. But, he was still trying to get off. He just needed something to push him over the edge. His eyes flicked all over you. "Lay down." Your eyes peered at him. Your wet lashes fluttered, as you quickly obeyed. Your legs immediately clamped shut. Jean groaned with annoyance, grabbing your ankle and roughly pulling you towards him. Connecting the dots in your head.
You could feel your eyebrows mush together in confusion, picking your head off the ground. “Wait,” you muttered, watching as he pulled your panties to the side. Pressing kisses to your thighs, “I haven’t showered, I just out of the pool, and I’m like really—“ 
Jean's hand harshly gripped your face, your mouth covered with your palm. “Stop bitching,” he grumbled, “fuck, I’ve waited long enough.” You just blinked at him, nodding your head softly. He smiled at you, “Good,” he cooed. “Now, shut the fuck up, and take it.” 
You thickly swallowed, spreading your legs open for him. Jean just laughed at you, “Good job.”
You could feel your eyes roll with his tongue moving up your slit. “No. No, wait.” You shut your legs, thighs squeezing Jean. 
Jean loudly groaned, “What now?” 
“What’s up with you?” Suddenly your mind was coming together and questioning the situation. You were on your back, about to get eaten out by a priest. Not any priest, but the nicest man you’ve ever met. A guy who enjoyed speaking aloud to the church, taking confessions, and helping those who needed it.
That same guy was leaning over you, calling you filthy names while eating you out. Where did the other guy go? “I’m so confused, I thought you?—“ 
“Yeah, no. Don’t even start.” Jean cut you off, groaning with annoyance. “You wouldn’t believe how corrupt this place is.” He replied, “The only reason Eren isn’t here is, because he’s fucking Mikasa.” He lowered himself to your face, smiling at you mockingly. “Don’t tell me you fell for that fake bullshit, I thought you were better than that, Y/n.” He mocked. 
Jean’s eyes skimmed your form, as he felt his breath heat up. You shuttered as his fingers fluttered over your calf gently. Slowly moving up your leg close to the place you wanted it most. A soft moan leaving you, as your back arched. 
Jean laughed to himself, "Fuck. I've barely touched you, yet, look at yourself." He pulled his hand back, staring at you. Jean pressed his hand to your abdomen, tracing it teasingly. 
A small 'please.' Left you. You didn't even know what you were begging for. And, Jean knew that. "Please?" He mocked. Clearly amused. "Please what?" The way he said that, made your eyes flutter. So, breathy and laced with desire. 
"Touch me.." you meekly said. Embarrassment running through your body.
Jean shook his head, "Spread your legs." You blinked a few times, feeling that heat worsen– if that was possible. You slowly parted your legs, hearing the deep growl coming from Jean. Your eyes fluttered. "Good. Fuck– good job." 
You whimpered. Jean smiled to himself, he didn't know you were such a slut for praise. He finally lowered his hand to your clit. Rubbing his thumb over the nub slowly, with just the right amount of pressure. You could feel your belly starting to heat up.
You looked to the side, thinking back to what Jean said. “You’re just a liar.” A good one at that, you finally replied. “I guess I’d be a hypocrite to judge you, though.” 
“A hypocrite?” Jean asked, eyes glued to your face. Searching for your expression. Trying to see what you did, and didn’t like. He knew this was supposed to be a punishment, but he couldn’t help himself. 
Your eyebrows slowly knitted together, lips parting your tried to inhale. The sensation of Jean’s thumb, sending electric currents up your body. “Y-yeah, a hypocrite.” You lightly groaned. Jean was touching you, rubbing your sensitive clit while you moaned. You had to be dreaming. 
“Did you not want to be a Nun?” 
Why was he talking about this? “No, my–” You jolted, feeling his fingers pinch your clit. His lips wrapping around your nipple, his tongue running over it. “M-my parents forced m-me.” You could feel your legs twitch, tears pearling in your eyes. 
Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god–oh god. Why does it feel so good?
Jean laughed, pressed a soft kiss to your tit. “Makes sense, I could hear your moaning all the way from my room when you masturbated.” He smiled seeing the way you tensed, his words seeping into your brain and connecting the dots. “You’re so loud, I’m sure the whole Church heard you.” 
You could feel your blood run cold. The warmth in your belly growing warm, why was that– hot?...
Jean’s dark eyes hardened, watching as you jolted when his fingers ever-so-slightly dipped into your hole. “What? Don’t tell me you thought you were being quiet.” He mumbled against your skin. Listening to you moan, he would do anything to fuck his cock with– something. He was so desperate for relief. 
“The amount of times I would just listen to you call my name in the middle of the night.. It’d have to have been hundreds.” You felt your body tense up, a string twisting in your stomach. “I would fuck my hand to the sound of your voice, listen and listen to your sinful voice. Wish I could see the way your fingers circled your clit, the faces you made when you came.” 
“I wanted to walk into your room, and be the one who made you feel good. I wanted to fuck you so bad..” Jean did everything in his power to control his thoughts at first, prayed, begged. For a moment he thought you were the devil with an apple taunting him, daring Jean to take a bite of the forbidden fruit. 
Until he decided… hell can’t be that bad, and it definitely can’t be eternal. And, hell– you were fucking worth it. He was going to savor each fucking bite.
Jean’s head tilted to the side, “And, I always wondered how you did it.” He pressed a kiss to your neck, “I wondered if you were thinking of me.” His voice was weirdly soft, making you look at him, noticing the way he towered over you. “Tell me, Y/n. Were you thinking of me when rubbing your sensitive pussy?” 
You shakily exhaled, unable to think. You thickly swallowed, choking over a moan, and tilting your head back. A long breath leaving you as Jean intently watched. Your innocent demeanor basically diminishing in-front of him. “Y-yes, I was thinking of you.. Jean.” 
It was perfect. So, fucking, satisfying. 
A sharp, 'hah!' Left you. Making it painfully aware you didn't know how to react to the new sensation. His hands tracing over your exposed skin, before grabbing your bra, pushing the fabric up slightly. Exposing more skin to his hungry eyes.  
You whimpered, and turned your face away, embarrassed by the eyes racking over your skin. Also, by the fact of how much you enjoyed it. Jean grabbed your cheeks with his index and thumb, bringing your face to his eyes. 
“Don’t look away, I want you to watch this.” You felt your lip quiver as you looked down, seeing what Jean was doing. You could a pair of hands trail over your stomach to your upper back, unclipping the back bra you wore. Revealing your bare breasts to him. The perky buds hardening under the cool air. His tongue rolled around them, your eyebrows scrunching together in return. 
"God! Hah!" You choked over a moan, the sensation becoming too much for you. Jean laughed. 
"God?" Jean questioned mockingly, grabbing the back of your neck, and raising you towards him. "I'm not a god.” He said, his voice laced with amusement. “I'm fucking Jean Kirstien. You better not be calling out anything, but that." You groaned, nodding your head feverishly.
"Yes! J-jean!" You gasped, feeling his hand tighten around your throat. 
Jean groaned, biting in his lip. "Such a slut." He harshly spat. His hand left your throat and reached for your lips, pushing two fingers into your mouth. You gag initially before closing your mouth around them, your tongue rolling against it. "Suck." You quickly obeyed. Jean felt his eye twitch, as well as his cock. How were you so sexy? He pulled his hand back, removing his fingers from your mouth, and wiping your spit on your cheek. 
Your eyes rolling back lewdly, as you tried to refuse the feeling of tossing your head back. Your legs spread impossibly wider, making his eyes snap to your entrance. Moving his fingers faster. You arched your back. 
Your pussy was fluttering on nothing, begging to be stuffed. Jean continued to pump his cock, sucking in a groan as you moaned without care. He was so close. If only he could taste you. Run his tongue over your entrance before going to your clit. Glancing up at you to see your reaction. 
You’d probably tear up, try to push him away as he grabbed your hips and forced you to stay put. Pinning you down, and just hearing you cry out about how it was– too much. He wouldn’t care, just continue rolling his tongue around your sensitive bud. Maybe, pump his fingers in and out of your entrance.
You took a deep breath, eyes shutting and rolling to the back of your head. A mantra of babbles leaving your mouth, “Ohgod, fuck. I’m– hah!–” you could feel yourself tighten around nothing, desperate to be filled.  
God, Jean was losing his goddamn mind. He couldn’t help, but fuck his hand, hips bucking at the sound of your voice. Fingers moving your clit in circles, trying to follow your pace. Trying to imagine it was him inside of you, feel the way you’d suck him into you. 
"Please, God– Jean." You softly begged. "I feel weird..." you stated. 
That was a tipping point for him. The slutty words leaving your mouth were shooting straight to his cock. You were such a slut like this. Such a fucking saint. The perfect in between.
Jean wasn't complaining in the least. "How slutty of you?" He questioned. But you didn't care. For once you felt so good. So incredibly good. The fact that Jean was watching was even better, you didn’t know how but it was. 
You choked on a moan, nodding your head. Hearts filling your eyes as you spoke. "Yes! Anything!" Your pussy in plain sight for his viewing pleasure. Loving every second. That tipped him over.
You wrapped your arms around Jean’s shoulders, pulling him close to you. You lips right next to his ear, releasing profanities. Jean could feel his mind melt with your words, “Oh my god, Jean! S’it s’good.” You cried, tears falling down your face. Jean kissed the corner of your eyes, before running his tongue over the wet stream. A laugh leaving his throat. 
Yeah, there was no way you weren’t cumming around his thick cock. 
Jean’s fingers pulled away, and you immediately whined, wanting the sensation to come back. “Wait, wait, don’t stop..” You pleaded, reaching for his hand. Trying to get him to continue. 
“Shh, don’t worry.” He cooed, “It’s only for a second.” His hand went to his cock, pressing the head to your entrance. “Hold me.” 
You slowly took a deep breath in, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and bringing him close. Shutting your eyes as he pushed himself inside you. You could feel tears brimming your eyes from the stretch, a pain– and pleasure shooting through your body. A pained whimper leaving you.
Jean just held you closer, “S’it okay, it’s okay. I got you, I got you.” He whispered reassuringly, pulling his head back to kiss you, his tongue tracing yours. You moaned into him, melting against his body, His hips rolling into yours. Jean stifled a groaned, “Fuck, you feel s’good, Y/n.” 
You could feel his dick slowly inch inside you, pushing your lips apart. Bullying his fat head inside your small hole, stretching around his size. A small whine leaving your throat, his hips meeting the fat of your ass. He tried staying still, letting you adjust to his size. But, God was really testing his patience. 
This was the very thing Jean had been dreaming of. 
You couldn’t breathe. Filled to the brim with Jean’s fat cock, it felt like it was in your throat. But, it felt so, so good. Being filled like never before, his cock hitting all the spongy spots deep inside you. Spots even you couldn’t reach. You gasped, “J-Jean, it hurts– feels so–” 
“Good?” He cut off, pressing kisses to your neck. “You can do this, Y/n. Promise.” His nose caressed your neck, “Be good for me, yeah?” You shut your eyes, and meekly nodded your head, pushing your face in his neck. “Can I move?” 
You nodded. 
Jean smiled, his eyes fluttering. “Thank you,” he whined, “I’ve been waiting too long for this.” His hips pulled back, before pushing forward. His head getting thrown back back from the pleasure shooting through his body. Making his mind hault. Your pussy was so tight and warm, so desperate to have his cum inside of you. 
You immediately arched your back, your toes curling at the pleasure. Your mind blanking as you loudly moaned, your pussy stretching around his cock. Sucking him back into you, “Holy fuck, holyfuck..” You babbled, unable to think. 
Jean’s hands went to your waist, gilding you to move up and down his cock. Your slick, lubing him up, and allowing him to enter with ease. Almost like you were made to milk his cock. His eyes went to your stomach, seeing as it pressed against your belly. How cute. 
Your hands reached for his shirt, gripping onto it as Jean pressed his hips into you. Going in and out, at a slow rate. Savoring every whine, cry, moan, and gasp that left your mouth. Your pussy clenching around him once Jean hit that spongy spot of yours.
You groaned, tossing your head to the side. “Hah!” 
Jean licked your neck, “You like that spot?” He asked, but as expected– didn’t get a response. Your stupid, fucked out head probably couldnt register a thing he was saying. Awh, poor baby. You need him to dumb it down for you. “Here?” He asked, jutting his hips to hit your sweet spot. 
You cried, tears falling down your cheeks. Your lips swollen from biting on them. Jean smiled to himself, “Yeah, right here.” He hit it again, watching as your legs tightened around his waist. Almost a silent way of telling him to stop. 
There was no way in hell he was stopping. 
Jean wanted to see you sob in pleasure. 
Jean grabbed your ankle, lifting it to his shoulder. Placing his hand on your other thigh, and pressed it to the ground, allowing him to go deeper inside you. A groan leaving his mouth from how fucking amazing you felt. Electricity shook up his body with every thrust into you. His swollen tip hitting inside you perfectly, making him whine. You just felt so, so good. 
Jean never wanted to leave. He wanted to stay like this forever. Fuck his cum into your abused pussy until you couldn’t help but cry with pleasure. Tears falling down your cheeks as you weakly gripped onto Jean, desperate to ground yourself. But, even more desperate to cum again. 
Jean pressed his lips together, trying to conceal his moans. Which only muffled them, his hips pressing into yours as he gripped your waist tighter. Moans trying to escape his closed lips, making them even whiner, than before. His lips parted, “I feel so good,” he groaned, “Fuck, you make me feel so good.” 
Jean’s hands went to the back of your thighs, folding them into you. “Oh god, fuck yes,” he moaned. Pounding his cock into you, making sure to hit all your favorite spots. He looked at you, seeing as you rolled your eyes back. “I’m hitting all your favorite spots, huh?” He groaned. 
You just nodded, head lollying to the side. Unable to hold it up, your mind swirling with nothing, but thoughts of his cock deep inside you. His moans filling your ears, with wines and cries. No thought put behind them, just pure pleasure. Your body jolting with every thrust of his hips. 
 Fuck, you needed this. You wouldn’t be able to go another day without this in your life. 
“Oh my–” you could feel your throat constrict, your heart speeding up as your vision went white. “Fuck, ohmygod– I’m– so close!” You tried breathing, but you couldn't. 
Jean chuckled to himself, “No, not yet.” He cooed, looking into you. Only to see your non-vacant eyes. He couldn’t help, but laugh again. “Awh, look at those fucked out eyes. Not a single thought behind them, huh?” He pulled out, “You just want my dick, huh?” 
Jean turned you around, forcing your face to the ground. “C’mon babe, don’t tell me you’re already tapping out.” You meekly shook your head, pushing your pussy back on his cock. Eyes rolling with every thrust. “Atta’ girl,” He praised. 
You felt your lips wiggle, tears falling down your face. Too much, it was way too much! That coil from before, building in your stomach again, getting tighter and tighter. Jean could notice by how tight you were clenching around him, your gummy walls pulling him back into you. 
“Awh, am I hitting all your favorite little spots, over and over again? Does it really feel that good?” Jean mocked, feeling his balls tighten. Fuck, he wasn’t going to last much longer like this. His hand wrapped around your body, circling your clit again. Hearing the way you groaned, your mind melting with overwhelming pleasure. “You feel your belly getting warm?” 
“Y-Yes!” Oh my god, you were going to cum. It almost felt different, like you couldn’t stop it from happening. Forcing it way through your body, your ears ringing. 
“I know, I know. Don’t worry, babe. I’m not stopping, I’m not stopping.” He cooed, watching as you went slack. Your legs wobbling, as your arms caved in. Squirting over his cock, wetting his abdomen. Jean couldn’t help, but feel his eyes go wide. Watching you come, not bothering to stop his thrust. Only making your pussy twitch. 
Your body went slack, about to fall to the floor when Jean caught you. Laugh at your pathetic state, “Babe, did it really feel that good?” He mocked, continuing to fuck you. You could feel your pussy burning with pleasure, it was almost overwhelming– fuck that, it is overwhelming.
You could feel your mind screaming to pull away, your body aching with soreness. Jean’s hands going to your shoulders, pulling you back on his cock. Making his thrust deeper and harder than before. Hitting that spongy spot with more power. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to do anything. Just lay down, and take my fat cock.” 
You didn’t even have the power to object, your mind was just high on pleasure. 
“Oh god, fuck, Y/n I’m gonna’ cum.” Jean moaned into your shoulder, his thrust turning erratic. “W-where do you want it?” His dick was coated with your slick, a ring located at the base of his cock. Evidence of your actions with him. 
You weren’t even thinking when you said it, “Inside.” You groaned back, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You could feel your mind blank again, body tensing. 
Jean felt his throat constrict for a moment, “Oh fuck, oh fuck..” He moaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head while he pushed his hips into you. Hot ropes of white cum, seeping inside your overstimulated pussy. “Fuck.” He groaned, closing his eyes and collecting his breath. Slowly lowering you to the ground. Then, finally pulling out of you. 
Watching as his cum leaked out of you. 
Jean just smiled to himself, running his hands over his face. He tilted his head to the side, peering at you. “Babe, you okay there?” You gave him a weak thumbs up, one that made him laugh. “Alright..” He dismissed, looking at the Church, and seeing how all the lights were off. 
It was going to be a bitch, and a half to get back inside. 
You rested on your back, your eyes blinking slowly. Jean went to lay next to you, looking at the shimmering sky above. Holding your hand, not before quickly removing his shirt and placing it on you. Trying to give you something to cover yourself. 
“The sky’s pretty.” You quietly said, leaning into Jean. Eyes blinking at the endless cosmos, observing the beautiful scenery. You never got to look at it, being trapped inside the church at night. 
“Yeah, the moon’s beautiful.” Jean responded, wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “This is nice.” He whispered in your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “I didn’t mean the things I said, I think I was just horny.” He said with a laugh.
You giggled, moving closer to him. “Your brain went– Y/n, must fuck, now.” You smiled, wrapped your arms around his torso. Still slightly sore from your previous activities. You wondered how sore you would be when you woke up. 
Jean groaned, “Uhg, I hate that.” He laughed, “I have so much confessing to do after this.” His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer to him. “But, it was worth it.” Jean smiled, the smile you came to utterly adore. “You’re worth it.” 
You rested your head on his chest. “You are too.” 
“You want to sleep with me tonight?” He asked, pushing back off the ground and pulling you up with him. Picking you up like a princess, a small yelp leaving you. “I’ll promise to massage your back in the morning.” 
You looked to the sky, pretending to think, while wrapping your arms around his neck. Crossing one leg over the other, “Will you also massage my legs?” You stretched your foot out, feeling it cramp.
“Of course,’” Jean responded, pressing his lips gently across yours. Walking through the maze. Searching for the exit, which he found surprisingly fast. “I’ll even fuck you stupid again, if you want.” 
You rolled your eyes, “Don’t. I think my body needs a break after that.” You pressed your finger to his nose, smiling to yourself. “Just get me to a soft bed, and I’ll be fine for the night.” You rested your head in his chest, yawning quietly. “I’m so tired.” You whispered. 
Jean smiled back, his dimples prominently shining at you. “Fine, but next time I’m eating you out.” He sang, twirling around with you in his arms. 
You shook your head, smiling sweetly. “Deal.” 
Ugh, you literally loved him so much. Why’d he have to be so perfect.
⊹ † ༻✦༺ † ༻✧༺ † ༻✦༺ † ⊹ 
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fqiryspit · 9 months
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HOLLLLYYY SHIIIIT!!
ok..girl! your writing! its amazingggg <333
the way you write like we're going through it together so I'm literally shocked at some parts and I was genuinely SO nervous in the beginning! amazing writing.
ALSO jean?? HE SO JEAN...like omg this fic seems so real like y/n and jean seem like different people ! !! ! AND THE SMUT--- OMG IM SWEATINGGG!!!
pretty girl - jean kirschtein x afab!reader - 18+!!!
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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.”
3K notes · View notes
fqiryspit · 10 months
Text
AHHHHHHHHH IM DYING THIS IS SO GOOD
Count to Ten
In which you gift your husband a Polaroid camera, granting him exactly ten opportunities to take whatever pictures he wants of you.
♡ content: ~4k word count. eren jaeger x female reader. modern/domestic au, established relationship, porn without plot, consenting sexy photos, oral sex (f!receiving & brief m!receiving), body worship, mentions of reader wearing a dress, mentions of spit, pet names, alcohol, eren's a punk but we love him anyway, mushy fluff? idk i think it's cute. ♡ a/n: this has been rotting my brain for weeks so i finally had to bestow this filth upon you, enjoy.
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You and Eren had been together for a while now. Married for one year to the day—happy anniversary to you!—and dating much longer than that. So while, yes, today was a big day, it wasn’t as though you hadn’t celebrated countless anniversaries before. 
That wasn’t to say you didn’t want to make it special. Of course you did, who wouldn’t? There was more than enough reason to celebrate. You were soul-mated, bursting to the seams, positively buzzing with love. Humming and twirling like Cinderella while doing chores as menial as folding dryer-fresh bath towels. 
Cynics would say you were still wandering in the mooniness of new marriage, but you’d argue that had long worn off. Living together, seeing each other at your very worst—chilled, snotty-nosed, curled in sticky, feverish bedsheets—and peeing with the bathroom door wide open didn’t really leave much mystique there, did it? 
Or, on the flip side, perhaps it was more apt to say the honeymoon phase never truly ended. The spark never died, the fun never faded, because your husband (Husband! You were still getting used to that) would rather die than let that happen.
You never had to worry about Eren forgetting your anniversary. If anything, he was always one to go over the top if you didn’t reign him in every once in a while. Which was the exact reason you told him you only wanted to go out for dinner, just the two of you, at that fancy-schmancy place—as he liked to call it—downtown. 
Keeping in mind that Eren was the type to overdo it, you had a not-so-sneaking hunch he’d buy you a present, no matter how many times you insisted he didn’t need to. In preparation for just that, you planned something. Little, hidden up your sleeve, but all for him. 
You were good about sealing your lips, too, despite the gift arriving at your porch days ahead of schedule. You didn’t even drop a single hint when he greeted you after work that evening, the same huge smile on his face as always—“Hi, beautiful!”—squeezing you in those big arms. 
And they said marriage, especially the first year, was hard work. 
Eren made the dinner reservation, just as you requested, and you managed to hold onto your secret until you returned home for the night, bellies full, with faces warmed and tingly from expensive wine.
“A Polaroid camera?” Eren questioned. He was as delicate about it as he could be—you know, for someone who had never been delicate about anything in his entire life.
A confused smile, though a smile nonetheless, twitched at the corner of his mouth. You could practically see the gears shifting in his head, like he was trying to recall a time he may have mentioned an interest in photography. He did have a habit of starting (and dropping) new hobbies on a near-monthly basis. 
Traditionally, the theme for a first-anniversary gift was paper. In a roundabout way, photo paper counted. At least, that was what you told yourself when you bought it. 
Paper was supposed to represent a blank slate, ready to be slathered with memories of your new life together. And that was nice and all, but you had another idea in mind for using up the film.
Eren held the camera in his hands. It was already freed from its original packaging, sitting lonely in the box you had wrapped while he was at work. 
You inched closer to him on the couch while he inspected it, perching on your knees to drape your arms over his broad shoulders. You ran your hands down the front of his shirt, his toned chest beneath your fingertips. You did it slowly, like you were insinuating something, but Eren couldn’t begin to guess what. You caught the intrigued look on his face as you peered over his shoulder. 
You brushed some loose hair behind his ear and kissed his cheek. Eren noted the grin in your voice as you whispered, “I’ve already loaded it with film.” You kissed the spot below his ear, felt the shudder it gave him. “I thought we could use it together.” His neck was next, where his pulse throbbed beneath your lips. “However you’d like. Whenever you’d like.” You moved his shirt’s collar out of the way, trailing your lips lower. “But don’t forget, there are only ten photos, and once you’re out, you’re out.” 
It was something for him and him alone. Tucked away in his bedside drawer for those times—though few and far between—when he was left missing you. Sure, you could always text him a photo; you had done so before. But this was different. More personal. Tangible proof that he could hold between his fingers and know you were irrevocably his. 
Truthfully, Eren was tempted to ask right then and there if he could keep his favorite in his wallet—whichever photo that may be, the anticipation was ruining him already—but he didn’t want to test his luck yet. 
You were glad you decided to hold off exchanging gifts until after dinner. Otherwise, there was no way you would have made your reservation. You didn’t even get the chance to open your present. Not that you minded, obviously. The cute little box sat ignored on the coffee table as Eren tugged you onto his lap. You straddled him as he made out with you, your dress riding higher and higher up your thighs. His hands smoothed from the small of your back to your revealed shoulder blades. His palms, hot and already commanding, pressed you against him, and you let his tongue swipe past your lips. 
It was his own Eren-esque way of thanking you for the gift. He’d undoubtedly say it a million times later; you could predict it already. It was just that he was a little occupied right now, what with you helplessly grinding against him and all. 
He was already hard by the thought of what he could have you do for him—for the camera. Fuck, you could feel it too, your clothed pussy rutting against him, making a mess of the front of his dress pants as you whimpered into his mouth. It was a gift for him, but you vastly underestimated just how much it’d turn you on as well, knowing how fiercely he craved you, every part of you.
Eren wanted nothing more than to take you then. And he could have, but he’d rather have you strewn beneath him on your soft bed. He wanted to bask in you. The expanse of you, bare, and ready for him. Then, he could snap a photo, freeze time, and savor the sight of you forever. 
But was it too soon to take the first photo? Already, Eren was worried about running out of film, and he hadn’t even put a finger to the button. It was a gift, but it might as well have been a curse, and he was sure that was your intention. Even so, he couldn’t take it anymore. All at once, Eren whisked you to your shared bedroom and stripped you from your dress. 
It wasn’t long before Eren settled on what was worthy of his first photograph. He wished to capture the very moment he pushed inside you. The look on your face you always wore—the tiny ‘o’ your mouth made, the quirk of your brows—right when he stretched you on his cock. His absolute favorite, even years later (Really, how lucky were you that he was still this obsessed with you?) By now, he had it memorized, that heavenly expression that’d grace your features, lasting no longer than a blink of an eye but now something he could look at ceaselessly. Over and over and over again. 
But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t take his sweet time with you. No, he wouldn’t let you get off that easily, knowing you were teasing him when you reminded him there were only ten photos. 
Eren kissed you deeply with one hand wrapped around the back of your neck. His lips were smooth and slow, thoughtful, kissing you in a way he knew would leave you desperate. He would have you begging for it—for him—before he’d give you just a single drop. He’d wait as long as he deemed necessary, expertly timing his photo to preserve that angelic look you get—the rapturous mix of relief, pleasure, and a desire for more. 
You tasted him and the bottle of red wine you shared over dinner. He was sweet on the back of your tongue. You were dizzy, your head thrown back into the feathery pillows as his lips left yours to kiss the side of your face. He dawdled there, hot breath fanning over your ear as he lightly took the lobe of it between his teeth. You sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth as his mouth traveled to your neck next. Then the dip of your collarbone and between your breasts. 
He peeled your bra off, one strap at a time, wasting no time to lift you to undo the clasp at your back. He licked and nipped at the sensitive skin. The cool bedroom air stood in a woozy contrast to the gentle heat of his mouth. He ran his large hand down your side, comforting your squirming as he flicked your perked nipple with his tongue. You were always so sensitive. It was something he liked best about you. 
You felt the sear of it when his lips curled into a smile against your skin. Smug already because you were practically panting, hips writhing beneath him, and he hadn’t even reached for your underwear. 
Eren knew you’d gift him the loveliest face when he finally sank inside you, where only he could reach. The bliss that’d wash over you once he tamed the ache between your legs—your gorgeous fucking legs. He slipped your panties down your thighs, wondering if it would be weird if he took a photo of them.
“God, Eren,” you whispered. It was ragged, nothing more than a hobbled breath. “Please.”
A lazy smile tugged at his lips. “Please, what?”
He hovered over you, pressed his forehead to yours. He didn’t just want to hear it but feel it, taste it, when you spoke it into his mouth—when you asked him, with that satiny voice of yours, to please fuck you.
You realized what he was after when he reached for the camera, almost lost in the tangle of clothes and sheets. Eren held himself with one hand planted in the mattress, the tip of his cock laying at your entrance. He angled back to aim the camera straight at your face. Behind it was the signature smirk you knew all too well. Before you could comment, he tilted his hips, filling you in one powerful thrust.
He predicted it, down to the very shape of your mouth. And right when your eyes fluttered shut—flash—it was bright behind your lids. 
One down. Nine to go. 
You thought Eren would toss the camera aside, fuck you like you wanted him to, but he did the opposite. He immediately pulled out and sat back on his knees, somehow more riveted by the photo than the real you, naked and needy below him. Seriously?
You propped yourself on your elbows with a pout. “Can’t this wait?”
“I wanna see it. It’ll just be a second,” he said, waving the photo in the air. 
“I don’t think that does anything.”
He ignored you, impatiently inspected the picture—still developing—then waved it around some more. He didn’t even notice when you perked higher, leaning into him, stealing his attention the only way you knew how. 
Yup the camera—and the hazy photo, for that matter—were soon forgotten. Tossed aside the moment you wrapped your dainty fingers around his shaft. You pumped his cock with one hand as you swirled your tongue over his tip, taking him past your wetted lips. 
A groan strained from him once your lusty eyes gazed up into his. He had no choice but to reach for the camera again, even in his clouded state with his cock down your throat. How could he not? You looked so magnificent, just like this. Hollowed cheeks, blown-out pupils, swollen lips working up and down his length. 
But he’d make it up to you of course. He still needed to thank you for the gift, after all. And once you heard the click of the camera, he did just that, giving you all the attention you deserved. 
The third photo, in hindsight, was one you should have seen coming from a mile away, given Eren’s boyish tendencies. If you were to guess, you thought he would have snapped a photo while you were sleeping. An unflattering picture of you with a flailing arm over your head or drool on your pillow—something along those lines. 
Oh, don’t worry, he considered it. Eren was actually thisclose to going through with it, thinking it’d be funny to slide you the picture when you least expected it, but he restrained himself. He did take one with his phone, though.
Another, much better, idea popped into his head. He didn’t even need to wait that long, just until you woke up for your morning shower. 
Picture it—no pun intended: The metallic slinking of the shower curtain ripping open. The humiliating sound that escaped you, living somewhere between a shriek and a choke. And the snap of that damned camera you were really regretting buying.
“Eren!” 
You were surprised you stayed upright, your heart beating so fast you surely thought it had hopped into your throat. You swore it then: there was no doubt this man would be the death of you. Especially with his stupid snickering, steadfast even as you sprayed him with the showerhead.
It was more of a prank than anything. A harmless one at that, if you asked Eren. But prank or not, past the water running down your face, your expression scrunched, he couldn’t help that his eyes lingered on your chest. Nor was it his fault that he happened to catch you before you’d rinsed off, your tits barely hidden behind suds and bubbles. And, well….
“Absolutely not!” you rebuked when he tried to join you, all smooth-like, as if that didn’t just happen. And when you yanked the curtain shut, Eren retreated to the kitchen, giggling to himself while he fixed your morning coffee, exactly how you liked it, in his attempt to get back on your good side. 
It was another few days before Eren reminded you of that damned camera’s existence. On a Sunday evening of all days, when you were least expecting it. Okay, maybe the shower incident claimed that title, but this was an extremely close second. 
Earlier, you had told him you planned to watch the newest season of your favorite show, uninterrupted. It had just dropped, and you wanted to squeeze in as many episodes as possible before bed. He didn’t seem to think much of it—even said he’d come and join you at some point. That is, until you passed one another in the hallway. 
“You can’t do this to me, babe,” Eren groaned, almost a complaint but more like a whine, as if you were purposefully doing something to spite him. 
The soft smile you greeted him with drooped. 
“Do what?” you asked, plopping onto the couch and snuggling between its cushions.
Eren shot you a look, his head cocked to the side—‘Come on already’—like you couldn’t possibly be serious. 
But it was an honest question. The only thing you had done in the last thirty seconds was walk by him on your merry way back from the kitchen, oversized snack bowl in hand and filled to the brim, clad in one of his old tees and a pair of underwear—
Oh.
Eren turned to leave the room, and you just got this feeling. 
You set the bowl on the end table and called for him in a drone of annoyance. “Don’t tell me you’re getting the Polaroid.”
He shouted back, “You know it,” and by the sound of it, he was already halfway to the bedroom where he kept it. 
He returned just as hastily as he disappeared, camera in hand. Surprise, surprise. 
You bit back your amused smile as you watched him sink to his knees on the floor before you. He traced a hand up the length of your thigh, toying with the band of your underwear with his fingertips. 
“Let’s get these out of the way,” he said in that low voice you loved—the one you always felt in your chest, like the thrum of a bass. 
“Right now?” you questioned, despite raising your hips once he hooked your panties around his fingers. You shimmied, helping Eren slither them down your legs until they hung at your ankle before flopping to the floor. 
“You said whenever I wanted, didn’t you?” he teasingly reminded. You made a face, and it pulled a chuckle from under his breath. “And I still have seven photos left.”
You couldn’t fight off your grin. It was coquettish and bashful as he beamed up at you, eyes darkened and dreamy, like his entire world was between your thighs. 
Eren had you lay back into the corner of the couch. He closed a hand around your ankles, one by one, bending your legs at the knee to place your feet onto the cushions—spreading you for him. The only decency left between you was his baggy shirt. 
“Hold it out of the way for me, baby. I wanna see you.”
You lifted the hem of it to expose your bare pussy to him.
Fucking perfect. “Yeah, like that.” He got this cheesy look on his face, pointing the camera to capture all of you, fully on display. “Now, smile.”
Part of you wanted to kick the smirk right off his face. But you’d never do that; you were so weak to him, a flouncy giggle leaving you as your husband tickled at your side. You couldn’t help that it was entirely endearing, not to mention flattering, that he found you, even like this, deeply irresistible. 
“Gotcha,” he boasted with the snap of the shutter. 
Unlike the first time, he abandoned the camera immediately. Wholly unable to contain himself—captivated by you splayed before him, at face-level, like that—he looped his arms around your thighs. He pulled you closer, your legs slipping from the couch and comfortably onto his shoulders. 
“God, I fucking love you,” he breathed, intended for you but spoken right between your legs, his eyes fixed there. He licked you once with no warning, no teasing, only his tongue swiping through you. “You gonna let me return the favor since you were so good for the camera?”
A sharp gasp escaped you, like a hiss, and your head lolled back between your shoulders. You bobbed your head in an eager yes, and he lapped at you a few more times. Slow and wet strokes of his tongue before he focused on your clit. Kissing it, flicking a pointed tongue against it, kindling the fire in the low part of your stomach. Your breathing quickened. 
The more you wiggled, the firmer his grip on you, the blunt of his nails burrowing into your thighs. You noticed the sting of it when he released your right thigh. 
Eren took your hand into his and laid it on the camera at your side. His mouth only left you to say, “I want you to take a picture. One of your face. Can you do that for me?” 
He kissed the crease of your inner thigh, his breath hot on your skin, but you felt it glow at the base of your spine. 
“Take it right when I make you come, okay?”
The plea in his voice, the honeyed coo of it—it softened you. No, it absolutely melted you. It wasn’t demanding in the slightest but a needful, urgent request.
Eren knew how much you loved when he went down on you; you always made that very clear with those sweet, tiny moans of yours. He was always ready, willing, and more than happy to oblige, but he could admit he hated missing out on your face when you came on his tongue. He wanted to learn it for himself, see how you looked with your head thrown back in ripples of pleasure. And he wanted to have it forever, for safekeeping. 
He only continued where he left off once you agreed and took the camera between your hands. Eren worked his way back to the pace you liked, steadily at first, kissing and making out with your pussy until he sucked at your clit with plush lips. And when he added the tip of his tongue, your stomach started to coil. 
Selfishly, you thought he looked like he was meant to be there. Handsome as ever, his dazy, green eyes bright against the flushed hue of his cheeks. You lifted a hand to his head, brushing the curtain of hair from his face. 
“I’m going to take one of you,” you giggled airly. You angled the camera toward Eren, the lewd sight of him worshipping between your legs. 
As if you had yanked a fire alarm, he immediately stopped what he was doing. 
“Don’t,” he exclaimed. He turned the camera away from him. “It was my gift, remember?”
You rolled your eyes but conceded only because you really wanted him to continue. He wasn’t above toying with you, if that wasn’t obvious enough already. 
Eren closed his mouth over your pussy. He was sloppy about it, spitting and spreading it over you with the flat of his tongue.  
You let the camera fall beside you, hands twitching and tensing like you needed to grab ahold of something—him, the Polaroid, your last smidgen of sanity—you didn’t know what. That iron-hot coil in your stomach wound and clenched. Closer and closer to coming undone, you rolled over his tongue, him encouraging you as he moved your hips with you. 
“Come for me, baby.” It was a slurry of words, a wet mumble against you. Every syllable was another vibration through you, bringing you to the very edge.
You picked up the camera with shaky arms.
“Make it real pretty for me,” he told you.
You didn’t want to imagine what sort of contorted face you would make, and you wouldn’t dare peek at the photo later, but you aimed the lens at your face anyway. It was his anniversary gift, after all—one you thought of, at that. No going back now, so you might as well make sure he got the most out of it. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted, eyes screwed shut.
“It’s a photo, not a video,” he taunted as your whimpers grew louder. 
“Fuck off, Eren,” you whined into your breathy moan of an exhale. You laced a hand in his pretty brown hair and pushed his loud mouth back between your legs. 
You came then, hard, cursing and crying out your husband’s name. It was a miracle you could even snap the photo. But you did, and you chucked the camera aside, unconcerned as to where it might land. 
The feeling was overwhelming—nearly too much. As you twisted away from his mouth, Eren knew it was his cue to bring you closer, to pull you down onto his tongue the way you wanted him to. His grasp on you was firm, but his thumb drew soothing circles against your skin, right where the fat of your thighs met your hips. 
Once you were a mere puddle of yourself, limply lying across the couch, Eren licked his lips clean to reveal his flashy smile. He didn’t look for the photograph this time—a lesson in patience—but crawled onto the couch to pull you into his arms. 
Eren tucked your head beneath his chin, his nose pushed into the crown of your head, breathing you in. He smoothed a loving hand up and down your back, your cheek pressed against his chest.
“Five left. Think you can handle it?”
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fqiryspit · 10 months
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AHHHHHHHH
Remember how I said Eren isn't super into lingerie? Yeah, well, he really doesn’t like it now.
content: ~1.6k words. eren jaeger x fem!reader. switch-y, teasing, a lil nasty, eren dgaf about your expensive lingerie :( explicit sexual content, explicit language. reader discretion advised. 18+ a/n: sorry, i have no idea where this came from, so it might be rushed. i hope you don't mind ♡
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Eren discovered this hatred when you revealed your newest set to him. 
Okay, ‘discovered’ was putting it lightly. If you asked him, he would say it was a lesson learned the hard way. 
You finally caved and bought that pretty set you’d been longing for. One crack was all you needed. That moment when you finally said, ‘Fuck it, I deserve this,’ and clicked that little button at the bottom of your phone screen. It wasn’t an impulsive purchase if it’d been sitting in your cart for the last week. Even if it took a glass of wine and an encouraging text from your best friend before you could pull the trigger. 
The reason you hesitated—the sole reason you hesitated was because you knew you’d be the only one to appreciate the lingerie. You could see it now. You’d spend all of ten minutes admiring yourself in the mirror, just for your boyfriend to have it on the floor in even less time than that. Like it was nothing more than any old pair of B-tier underwear. 
You made it sound harsh. That was what Eren thought, at least. What was the big deal, after all? Of course you looked great in it—you looked great in everything you wore. But that was because you were you, and Eren wanted to see as much of you as he could. Could you blame him?
Don’t get him wrong, you looked fantastic in it. When you surprised him that evening, all cute and giggly, he gave the lingerie the attention it deserved. He even had you do an embarrassing twirl for him. But as soon as Eren pulled you into his lap, the two of you sat on the edge of your bed, he started to play with one of the bra straps.
It was almost at your elbow when you shied away with a gentle roll of your shoulder. “I was thinking I could keep it on. Just for a little while longer.”
It confused him, and he didn’t hide it well. You could read it on his face, eyes bewildered and peeking through the lowly-browed look he was giving you. “Why?”
“It’s something different,” you flirted, like you could possibly sell him on the idea. You even went as far as to walk your fingers up his arm. “Leaves something to the imagination.”
Eren’s expression was steadfast, still unamused. “Isn’t it a little late for that?”
You were keeping it on. “It was expensive!”
“Then why did you buy it?”
“Because I thought it would make me feel good!”
This was it; you could hear it in your voice. The little inflection at the end gave it away. It was the turning point. The tippy top of the mountain. Where this could either become an argument or one of you (Eren) could grow up. 
Eren, after spending years at your side, picked up on it, too. And while he was infamous for starting arguments, there was no way he was going to let that happen. Not now. Not with you, wearing something as frail as doilies, perched on his lap. Even if there was a pout on your face, it was the prettiest one he’d ever seen. 
His voice was a smooth hum when he said, “I can make you feel good.”
That wasn’t the way you meant it, but you didn’t fight him on it because he had already brought his lips to you. At your neck first, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your skin as he scooped you off his lap and laid you back on the bed. 
He leaned over you, breath hot against your ear, with fingers toying along the delicate hem of your panties. There was a shiver down your spine just as he whispered, “And how am I supposed to do that if you keep these on?”
But you were never one to give in that easily. 
“Like this,” you purred, pushing lightly against Eren’s chest so he’d roll to your side. You took his hand into yours and snaked it between your legs. You steered his hand for him, the pads of his fingers rubbing over your clothed clit. 
Eren felt the wet spot. It coated the tips of his fingers before he even had your panties off—yes, he was still determined to get them off.
He tore a sharp breath in through his nose—pulled himself together—and started to circle your clit, eagerly, and you released his hand from your grasp. You gasped, hands pawing at Eren until you were helping him out of his shirt. It was the only break he gave you, his fingers quick to return between your legs.
“Feels so good,” you whispered on a shaky exhale. Your vision was glossy, heavy lids fluttering over your eyes as you waded in summery pools of pleasure. 
Eren’s slick fingers slipped between you, and he used it as an excuse to try and push your underwear aside. 
And how tempting it was—to let him have his way with you. With his fingers, his tongue, or his cock. To let him get you off as many times as you wanted, only because you knew he was committed to proving his point tonight. 
But, unfortunately for Eren, you were just as stubborn. You corrected him each and every time he let his fingers wander a bit too far. He gave up eventually, not even bothering to peel back your bralette before licking and sucking at your nipples. Even over the flimsy fabric, his warm lips and tongue had you grinding against his hand. 
Surely, he must have won you over by now. 
Eren kissed his way lower, breath ghosting over your ribs and just below your navel with nothing more than a tickle. He tried again to tug at the band of your panties.
You inched back. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Eren bit back his response, offering nothing but a groan. Practically a whine.
He was getting really sick and tired of this fucking stupid, frilly thing. 
You were torturing him now. Fueled off nothing but your own amusement. You somehow found teasing him to be more delicious than letting him make you come.
Eren knew it, too. He could see it in that glint in your eye. It was wicked, but God, did it do something for him. So he returned your panties where they belonged.
He brought his mouth between your legs, kissing down your slit, and even that overwhelmed him. He was absolutely pathetic for it, considering there was still a layer separating you, but he was already weak to you. Everything about you was intoxicating. Your heat, your scent—fuck. 
He started licking at you like there was nothing between you, like the lace wasn’t rough against his tongue. He was a mess, his cock achy enough to have him rutting into the mattress for relief. He wanted everything you’d give him. Whatever he could get, even if he had to taste you through these goddamn panties.
There was no way you were going to wear those again. 
It wasn’t long before they were ruined. Drenched in slick, spit, and the lewd combination of the two after you came. 
You were still catching your breath, still caught in the waves of it, when Eren yanked off his sweatpants and flipped you onto your stomach. Your legs were wobbly, too tired to hold yourself up, even on your knees.
It didn’t matter; he pinned you to the bed anyway.
Eren’s thumb hooked the crotch of your underwear and tucked it in the crease of your thigh. He lined his cock up with your entrance, his body caged over you, and waited until you perked your ass up—begging for him not with your words but with your body—before he filled you with a slow and deep tilt of his hips. 
That was the softest he was with you. After you had a moment to adjust—feel the shudder that ran through his body as he bottomed out inside you—he fucked you into the mattress. The way he thought you deserved after acting like such a tease.
You loved it so much. So, so much. As tough as Eren wanted to act, you still felt his neediness in every one of his thrusts. He was desperate for you. It had you reeling, high off him and him alone.
You chanted his name in crass moans. “I’m close. I’m gonna—I’m coming,” you whimpered. An announcement that was smothered by the pillowcase. 
“You can’t come like this,” Eren taunted.
He knew you were helpless then, twitchy and writhing in ecstasy beneath him. That was the reason you were dumb to it when you heard your panties rip. No, not just rip but tear. Loudly and until they were no longer digging into your sides but crumpled to the sheets.
“That’s better.”
But there was still some use left in them.
Eren pulled out, jerking himself off until he spilled over your back. His gravelly curses and groans buzzed in your ears, your body about as strong as dough, as he sat back on his knees. He reached for the tattered lace and used what was left of it to clean you up.
It was a weak attempt, if you could even call it that. There was no argument, but he had still won, and he wanted to rub it in your face.
You glared at him from over your shoulder. “Those were expensive.” 
He flicked them aside like he didn’t even hear what you said.
“You used my card for them,” Eren reminded. Your eyes widen at his knowing smile. “You think I don’t check my own credit card statement?”
He ignored the daggers you were throwing and laughed. There’s that pretty pout again.
“You can buy as many pairs as you want.” He kissed the middle of your back. “As long as I can rip them off.” 
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fqiryspit · 11 months
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𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊: j. kirschtein x fem!reader
✧ summary! — there’s nothing in the world that feels better than beating jean kirschtein. except maybe fucking him. (inspired by this request)
✧ warnings! — 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, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), mirror sex, slight clit play, finger sucking, choking, degradation, name calling (slut), orgasm denial.
✧ author’s note! — first request ever, let’s go!! lmk if i missed anything in the warnings!
✧ word count! — 2.6k
“did you fucking see that? did you see that fucking look on his fucking face?”
the blood that normally rushed through your veins had been promptly replaced with triumph. triumph that evidently couldn’t be contained as you bounced up and off the floor of your dorm room.
sasha—your proud, but awfully concerned roommate—only sat gingerly at the edge of her bed. having just finished a family sized bag of bugle chips, she settled on congratulating you with soft claps of her crumb-covered hands. “that is, uh,” her face bounced between expressions before landing on a somewhat smile. “that’s amazing, (y/n), but—”
“i know, right. and, he had this, like, kicked puppy look, y’know?” you voice trailed off as you began searching through your drawers for a pair of pajama pants. “like pure defeat. it was fuckin’ incredible.”
just an hour or so ago, jean kirschtein had made the dire mistake of challenging you to a brief fencing match. a game of which you were only mildly skilled, so you’d feared you might end up in one of those rare predicaments where jean—fucking jean, of all people—managed to beat you.
“you are such a bad sport.” sasha chuckled from where she sat behind you. “he almost had you, though. it was neck and neck.”
you giddily pulled some pants from your drawer, turning in the direction of the shower with a smile. “now that, i can admit. see, i’m a great sport.”
***
eren was on his third peal of laughter in the past five minutes. the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers as heaps of schoolgirl giggles whistled through his lips. “how’d you let her get away with that shit, man? i mean, you were, like,” eren combed a hand through his hair and pinched his fingers together so close they were almost touching. “right here.”
“kiss my ass, jaeger.” jean only murmured, choosing to live in blissful amnesia about the whole thing. he’d opened the page of some random jane austen novel and began pretending to read.
this was, by far, his most humiliating defeat. not because of the fact that he lost, but how.
the sheer swiftness and grace with which your blade moved almost made it impossible for him to believe you were anything other than advanced. although, maybe this was what hardly remarkable looked like for you—those being the words you used to describe your fencing skills.
but still, where you were good, jean was always better. at least that’s what he told himself on the frequent—yes, very frequent—occasions that he bested you in something.
that thought could wait. for jean was too busy trying to stick his winning blow. except you moved with so much effortless agility he missed you by only the hair of an inch.
you were back on his heels with a cocky giggle pouring from your mouth. “oh, come on, kirschtein. do you want me or not?”
what a stupid question to ask. of course he wanted you. he’d wanted you since before he even knew what want was. since your eighth grade spelling bee where you managed to halt the match at a perfect tie. since every occurrence thereafter where the two of you had needed to beat one another more than you needed air.
so, yes. he fucking wanted you. how could he not? you were the most insufferably brilliant, wickedly talented, and oftentimes the funniest person he’d ever had the displeasure of knowing. and god help him if you weren’t beautiful as all hell too.
wait, huh?
in enough of the time it had taken him to form that thought, the blunted tip of your blade had jabbed directly into his chest, right above the rapid beating of his heart.
from then on, jean had taken the route of not thinking at all. because he knew that if he did, you’d be the only thing on his mind.
and seriously, how could he let a thought like that slip through the finely trained cracks and crevices of his own mind? you were, by all experiences and understandings, his rival. universally, anciently, eternally. you had been on opposing sides of some invisible thing for as long as he could remember.
so, why? why, why, why had such a sickening thought started to bloom—in the way fungus did, not flowers. totally not.—so suddenly through the concrete cracks of his brain?
well, that could only be possible if such a thought wasn’t so sudden at all
***
you were perhaps the only person who could still look good in fluorescent lighting. a fact jean guiltily registered when you pulled back the bathroom door and stood practically swathed in it. it flushed you bare, made you look naked and real and impossibly prettier. prettier. despite how well the description characterized you, jean still harbored his own habitual difficulty associating such a nice phrase—a compliment—with you.
“ugh.” you scoffed upon taking your eyes away from the mirror, a wand of lipstick halfway to your now frowning lips. “i’ll be out in a second. try not to piss yourself.” you barked over the blaring music.
as flushed as you made the skin behind his ears, you were still a pain in the ass. “i actually wanted to talk to you.” jean practically vomited the words, not yet used to speaking to you sans malice or insults.
“about?”
another bout of word vomit. “about what happened today.”
“you mean when i kicked your ass in fencing.”
“see, that’s the thing. i—i didn’t mean to lose.”
“yeah, no one really means to get their ass kicked.” your lips jumped into a contented smirk. “that’s what makes doing it so fun. especially when it’s you, right, kirschtein?”
“you’re a real class act, you know that?”
“glad you think so highly of me.” you dropped your lipstick into your purse and leaned against the counter. arms folded and one brow beautifully, interrogatively arched. “but c’mon, what about earlier today? what was so pressing that you had to follow me into the bathroom?”
“i don’t know, i…” jean blinked, trying to scrape some semblances of confidence together. “i’m sick of fighting with you.”
“are you this butthurt about earlier?” you scoffed, looking almost hurt and pursing your freshly lacquered lips together. “i mean, if that’s why—” you turned away from him and back into the mirror with an insultingly exasperated sigh. “if you came here to mope about what a loser you are, this isn’t the place.”
now it was jean’s turn to scoff. and that he did, kicking the bathroom door closed behind him and leaning his weight over on the narrow counter. the fury and disbelief jean felt must have been sheer on his face, because of your lackluster attempt at a turnaround. “look, i’m just saying i’m not exactly great with sympathy. or whatever it is you’re trying to do here.”
anger tunneled through his veins, as hot and passionate as those feelings he felt earlier. “you know what, fuck you.”
“yeah, as if i’d ever let a loser like you anywhere near m—” but you didn’t get to finish your sentence, because jean’s fingers were pulling you into him by the nape of your neck. in a split second in what you think was a kiss.
it was more an aggressive gnashing of teeth and tongue with frustrated groans of anger soundtracking it. you hardly even felt his lips, except for when he tried to break away and you pulled the bottom one between your teeth. which led to his hands finding the backs of your thighs so he could prop you onto the cold countertop.
he then took you in a more proper kiss. one that was certain to have your lips bruised by the end of it. one that sent the minute vibration of a whimper out of your mouth and over his. “i hate you,” jean murmured over you, arousal and anger pooling between your legs as he palmed your tits through your shirt. in that same moment you were wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer as he rasped, “so fucking much.”
your hands strung fervently between the ashy blonde moss of his hair. “not more than i hate you.” you hissed as he pulled your shirt over your head. his lips dragged across your jaw, down your, over your collarbone—not stopping until he was at your chest, at which point he was haste in pulling the straps of your bra off your shoulders.
with your hardened nipples exposed to the brisk bathroom air, jean was free to wrap his lips around one and suck and pinch as he pleased. lidded eyes glazed with malice as he peered up at you, mouth wrapping eagerly around you. all while his hand toyed aimlessly with the button on your jeans.
“the hell are you waiting for?” you asked, unexpectedly breathless. tugging a little harder on his hair elicited exactly the reaction you were hoping for.
in an instant, your jaw was in his grip and he was pulling you close enough to his face that he could’ve—should’ve—kissed you, but he didn’t. “shut the fuck up.” he hoarsely demanded. “you don’t get to rush this.”
try me, you might as well have said. because in that same second your lips and hands were on him again. groping at his stiffened cock through his pants working a hickey into the smooth skin of his neck.
his dick sprung free from the confines of his underwear—shaded a blushing red, leaking a milky bead of precum from the head, and littered with pretty veins—you barely gave yourself a moment to think before you were wrapping an eager hand around it.
all the while, jean was struggling to pull your shorts over the curve of your ass. poorly contained shudders wracking his body with every stroke you dealt him. “c’mon, kirschtein. show me you’re not as useless as i think.”
and then you went from perched upon the counter to bent directly over it. a yelp sprouted from your parted mouth as jean all but yanked your shorts down your legs. from this view, you were staring at your hazy reflection in the bathroom mirror—eyes lidded and brimmed with untamed desire, the lipstick you’d originally ventured here to fix now smudged worse than before.
you steal a glance up at jean, whose hair sat mangled atop his head. hickies purpling his jaw and collarbones. chest heaving only slightly. when the two of you made eye contact through the mirror, you could feel jean hooking his fingers under the crotch of your underwear so he could slide them down your legs.
weak with anticipation, your vision grew bleary and unfocused. “hey, hey,” but jean had your jaw in his grasp again, directing your focus back to him. “keep your eyes on me, alright.”
you only meekly nodded, even though he was certainly telling more than asking.
his fingers ghosted over the engorged head of your clit, and even when you wanted to shut your eyes as shockwaves of pleasure rolled over you, jean’s grip on your jaw tightened every time you tried. “did you not hear what the fuck i said?” he’d grunt into your ear, neglecting your pussy by taking his fingers away from it. he’d instead stick those same fingers into your mouth, running the pads of them over your tongue and letting you suck the taste from them.
then finally, his hands were on your hips, and the tip of his cock was sliding through the sodden folds of your cunt. “what was that you said earlier?” jean asked as he dipped his head into your waiting heat. “‘as if i’d ever let a loser like you anywhere near me’”
truthfully, you didn’t regret saying that. if you hadn’t, you’d have gone back downstairs to that party and not been here receiving what might’ve been the best sex of your life. (although you’d never admit that to him.)
you didn’t have time to answer because jean was kissing you. his tongue was breathtakingly soft as it mulled around in your mouth. when he pulled away, leaving strings of saliva connecting your lips, you hardly had a chance to register it before he was sliding into you with a deep grunt.
you promptly died of infatuation at the feeling of having him inside you. growing dumber and dumber off the way the curve of his cock slid up into you at just the right angle. and it didn’t take long before he bottomed out, at which point you both sang sweet moans into the stuffy bathroom air. “i hate you.” you moaned into the reflection, but his thrusts only sped up. “i hate you, i fuckin’ hate you. i—ohmygod!”
jean snaked a hand around your throat, his relentless grip sending mixed waves of pleasure and pain through your body. “you hate me so much,” he panted into the crook of your neck, “but you’re letting me fuck you like this.” his grip tightened, and you could feel the slicked walls of your cunt clench in response. “nasty fuckin’ slut.”
it wasn’t long before the head of his dick was prodding that sweet spot inside you. “don’t stop. i’m so close.” wracking your body with the most debaucherous fixes of saccharine satisfaction and pushing you closer and closer to your release. “i’m gonna cum, don’t—”
mischief crawled over jean’s flushed gestures as he blushed, his thrusts coming to a subtle halt. “ask me nicely.”
you had no other choice but to die, because there was no way you’d be able to walk out of here from a half finished fuck with a neglected orgasm. but there was also even less way you’d be nice to jean kirschtein of all fucking people.
but then he leaned over and brought his lips to yours in a soft kiss. not nearly as rough as the previous ones had been and almost out of character for the two of you. “c’mon, i know how bad you want it.” jean murmured into your mouth, sending—dare i say—butterflies in fervent laps around your tummy. “be nice so i can give you what you need, yeah?”
normally, you’d have scolded him for just outright assuming he knew anything about you. but this wasn’t normally and this time, he was right. he kissed you again, and that’s when you uttered, “please,” under his lips. “please, don’t stop.”
jean kissed you again, but at the front of your cheek. a ghost of a smile appeared over his lips. “atta girl.”
slowly but surely, his thrusts resumed and you right where you left off: toeing the edge of an orgasm with every passing second. “oh,” you whimpered as you gazed into jean’s eyes through the mirror. his very sweet, very determined eyes. that sight coupled with the feeling of his cock piercing your very soul was what sent you over.
the orgasm practically poured out of you. a white hot flash of blinding pleasure that had left you shaking where you stood and surely sheathed his dick in the thick, creamy mess of your own cum. and jean wasn’t far behind, quickly pulling out of you and covering your back in warm streaks of his own spend.
you both needed a moment to recover. heavy breaths crushing your lungs and a post orgasmic-haze looming over your heads in a tangible cloud.
“here, don’t move.” jean unfurled a towel from a nearby closet and doused it with water before gently wiping down your back. “see, all better.”
“thanks, i guess.” you said, unsure of the proper thing to say to someone who just wiped their cum off your back.
when you were done shrugging your clothes over your body and making sure your makeup shed no discretion as to what you’d just been doing, you cautioned a small kiss to jean’s jaw. “tell anyone about this and i’ll kill you.”
he only smirked back at you with a roll of his eyes, but answered nonetheless. “wouldn’t dream of it.”
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© NININIKKI. do not translate, copy, or modify my works in any way shape or form.
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fqiryspit · 11 months
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I’m watching a show where this man can’t get his dick hard for anyone but his wife and I want to know which one of your 2D husbands is like that 👀
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fqiryspit · 11 months
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Ok but sex with postwar!Levi is so soft and so passionate, he wants to feel every part of you. His hands are gentle, he would caress every single inch of your skin. Levi likes to be able to see you when his cock is buried in your wet pussy, he loves the expression of pure pleasure on your face. "Cum for me darling, please." His kisses would be long and full of emotion.
Not to mention how sensitive he is, your mouth makes him feel like he is on cloud nine. "Fuck. F-fuck. Baby I'm gonna-" And he whines while cumming because it just feels so so good for him.
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fqiryspit · 11 months
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Birth tomorrow 28
I want a kiss for birthday 🥺
IVE BEEN OFFLINE FOR MY LIFE SO I DONT KNOW IF I MISSED IT OR NOT BUT
MWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!!! ILYSM <333333
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fqiryspit · 11 months
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https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMYWMcvqW/
This video but with Eren.
That’s it.
AGUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHH 😫 YES YES YES THIS THIS THIS THANK YOU FOR THIS OMGGGGGGGG 😫
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