#Jean angst
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series masterlist
content & warnings: fem!reader, modern au, college au, smut (oral f. receiving, breastplay, piv, spit balling, reiner nasty here👨🏽🦯)
author’s note: this is very much inspired the amazing vee and her reijean fics and headcanons! please check them out i adore her so much, she is an amazing author 💓 mdni banner credit to @/cafekitsune
word count: 4.2k
In the final few days of the semester, Jean had holed himself up in the art department's pottery studio.
He wanted to make a handcrafted gift for his mother back home, who had another recurrence of cancer and was currently living in a hospice.
Jean's mother wasn't weak-willed.
Looks can be deceiving. At first glance, the plump woman of short stature with rosy cheeks and mousy brown hair often scraped back into a ponytail appeared timid.
However, raising her son by herself didn't allow her to rely on others and she hated pity. Murmurs and tuts, sighs of sympathy sent her into a rage.
During breaks when Jean visited out of concern, she'd shoo him away.
"Ma please." Jean tutted as he watched her in the armchair. "I came all this way to see you, why can't I stay here?"
Rolling her eyes, she groaned as her eyes fixated on crocheting.
"God, I really must have one foot in the grave if you insist on imprinting yourself on me now." She scowled as she put down the crotchet hooks in her lap and met his eyes.
"Ma!" Jean sighed frustratedly, dragging his hand down his face. He took a deep breath as he screwed his eyes shut. "Don't say shit like that!"
He knew he was a spoiled child. An ungrateful kid who pushed his mother away at every turn. And he couldn't bear how it took her diagnosis for him to realise the error of his ways.
There was only so much 'you were just a kid' from her lips softly could do. It made him resent himself deeply. Plagued with constant shame and guilt about how he treated his mother.
The two had a candid conversation. It was raw and he remembered snivelling into her lap despite his six foot three frame as he gripped the hem of her dress.
She urged him not to visit and to enjoy his summer after graduation. He wasn't too sure despite her insistence.
"If I see you skulking around here, I'm not gonna even acknowledge your existence. Do you understand?" Her voice echoed in his head.
His memory dissipated away as you entered.
"Yo, Jean!" You called out as you pushed the heavy door of the pottery studio open.
"Hi pretty girl, you need me for something?" He smiled, his bright brown eyes lighting up at the sight of you.
You approached Jean and leaned over to inspect the clay on the pottery wheel as he turned his focus on moulding the wet clay in his hands.
Always flirting. But never a move was made. It irked you at first but you left it. Hell would freeze over before you pursued a man.
"Just wondering why you cooped yourself up in here all day." You responded as you folded your arms, leaning against the wall.
"Tryna make some present for my Ma." He snorted. "Since summer's coming up. Figured since all she ever wants is to receive a homemade gift. She hates store-bought crap. Maybe you can help me out."
"Oh...with what?"
"I'm trying to work the clay into the shape of a cat but I'm having trouble with the ears."
"Oh yeah, she was pretty fond of cats. What was the name of the tabby cat you guys had?" You asked as you reached out to adjust Jean’s fingers, moulding a part of the cat's ear that he was working on.
"Felix! Yeah, she was heartbroken when he passed away. I don't even have a reference photo, I'm working from memory mostly." He chuckled. "She spoiled that cat, lemme tell ya. Sure she loved him more than me."
Your first love. The unrequited love that had been chipping away at your heart for over a decade belonged to none other than Jean.
Your mind changed. You could never pinpoint the exact moment you fell for him.
Maybe it was in the summers when you sat side by side on the steaming kerb as orange ice pops dripped down the stone slabs.
Perhaps it was when your fingers frozen from the subzero conditions shook from how long you worked on the snowmen only for some older bullies in your neighbourhood to kick it down, leaving you in tears and Jean fighting (and losing).
It could've been when a popular guy in your grade asked you for homecoming and bailed last minute since it was at your expense to make everybody laugh, and Jean decided to ditch and bring you to the nearby lake where you star gazed all night.
Either way, Jean Kirstein had always been a constant in your life.
"What are your plans after graduation?" You chirped. "I was thinking we could go somewhere."
"What'd you have in mind..?" He smiled. "Cos I was just thinking of heading back home. Maybe get a part-time job n live with Ma since-"
He paused.
"You know she'd hate that." You chuckled.
"I know." He got up from the stool, heading over to wash his hands. "I'm gonna head over to the sports department."
Your face instantly soured. You knew all too well who would be there. Miss Black Belt Mikasa Ackerman.
"...Why?"
"What do you mean why...?" Jean replied.
"Jean, for god's sake. She doesn't even spare a glance at you."
"Don't you think I know that?" He said, voice shaky. "I'm well aware that Mikasa will never feel the same way about me."
Bile was scratching at your throat. God, you hate Jean Kirstein.
Hate him, hate him, hate him.
Every time he still went on about Mikasa all it did was shatter your heart. Why did you have to be stuck in the middle of this?
Why did you have to love a man who was in love with another? Mikasa had kindly let him down so many times.
That's what made it worse you suppose. The fact she paid him complete dust and he still was fawning over her.
You remember sobbing into your sister's lap, bawling like a baby when it hit you that Jean was in too deep with this infatuation.
"Don't you know it riles men up more if you flat-out reject them?" Your sister giggled as she gently smoothed the back of your head.
Love isn't transactional. You didn't expect Jean to throw himself at your feet when you did basic acts of human kindness such as accompanying him to help his mother in the hospice.
But there was always this twinge of hurt. Everything you do isn't good enough for him.
"Whatever."
"Why do you care anyway?"
You were about to turn on your heel and scream in his face but it was no use.
"You're right, I shouldn't."
Jean stared at you blankly for a few moments, his breath rising sharply.
"Do I need another reason? It's just love. I've had feelings for her since freshman year and that doesn't just go away like you switching off a light."
Jean looked down in disappointment and frustration. He felt ashamed that he was like a lovesick teen at almost twenty-two.
Clearing your throat, you figured you might as well drop the bomb.
"Well...Reiner invited me to spend the summer with him."
Jean's demeanor changed instantly and his smile dropped from his face. He paused the pottery wheel, with his lips pursed.
"Oh yeah? Is that so?"
"Mhm. He's old money rich...and I've never been to Europe before." You said nonchalantly as you shrugged.
Jean's jaw tightened. Completely irritated.
"So...are you gonna go?"
"I mean...why not? I don't have plans and I'm not really wanting to head back home."
His expression betrayed his jealousy, failing to compose himself to not seem overbearing or controlling. He was struggling to hide his resentment of Reiner.
During the fall semester, you, Reiner and Jean were in a group for an assignment that counted for a good chunk of your grade.
Jean wasn't exactly an academic genius and neither were you, but you both knew when to pick yourselves up by the bootstraps and get down to work. Organizing meet-ups to plan things out. And he bailed each and every time.
Reiner Braun as cliché as it was, was the big man on campus.
His family gave regular donations to the college meaning he could mess around and get off with barely a slap on the wrist.
Jean couldn't bear it. On the rare occasions, Reiner bothered to show up, he'd goof off and a pet name from him to you would make you forget how much he was screwing the two of you over.
Not to mention Reiner was one the few people who still bothered to call Jean "Horseface".
Eventually, Jean and you submitted the work without Reiner's contribution. Jean scolding you not to add Reiner's name.
"So...you'll be spending the entire summer with him?"
"N-no!" You stuttered. "He's just...sweet!"
Jean gave you a look of contempt. He knew full well Reiner was nicknamed 'Virgin Killer'.
"Sweet? What because he invited you to his mansion? Because he called you pretty?" Jean said, almost mockingly.
"Why do you even hate him? He was chill during that project." You said nonchalantly.
"You've got to be kidding me." Jean hissed. "He was 'chill'?! He didn't do any of the work!" Jean protested. "And then he had the nerve to sit there and gloat like he did jackshit!"
"Jean, just come. I want you with me."
"No thanks." Jean said sharply.
"Why not? It's not often you get to stay at a mansion."
"This is stupid." Jean grumbled. "How long do we gotta stay?"
"He said three months."
"Three months?! Nope. I can't. Even if you're there, he's still a dick."
"Jean, your Mom told you not to come back and you know that. So just come with me, hm?"
"She's in pain and she doesn't have much time left. I can't just stand by and refuse to visit her. My mom needs me..."
"You know if you go back, she'll give you silent treatment."
"Yeah, she will...she always does that when I upset her."
"So why don't we just spend two weeks then? Huh?"
"Two weeks doesn't sound nearly as bad. But can you promise me we won't spend the whole time with that jerkoff?"
"Can't promise you that."
Jean let out a sigh as he seemed to relent as his anger and jealousy both subsided for the moment.
"But we're not hanging out with him all the time. We're doing our own thing and he doesn't need to be involved with us at all."
"It's his house!" You said with a disbelieving laugh.
"Just because his name is on the deed of the place doesn't mean he needs to be glued to our hip the whole time. We're gonna be there for two weeks. I don't see why we can't just hang out on our own."
"That's not very nice of you." You said curtly, hands on your hips.
"Well, it wasn't 'nice of him' when he didn't contribute anything to our project." He ran his fingers through his hair after he washed his hands in the metal basin with an air of defeat to his voice. "Do you really like this guy...?" He asked, an edge to his voice.
You didn't reply but the shy look on your face told him all he needed to know.
"Just....don't fall for his bullshit. He's gonna hurt you. I’ll think about it."
"Like you haven't already hurt me enough." You muttered internally.
Little did Jean know, you had already popped your cherry. To Reiner.
After the group project, you and Reiner began to sleep with each other frequently.
You felt awful after Jean and you had submitted your work without Reiner. You wanted to add his name but Jean was adamant about it.
You were worried there would be bad blood between you and Reiner after it, but a few days after he jogged up to you as he called your name when you were leaving a lecture.
He asked you to be his study buddy but with the way he looked at you, it was clear as day he had an ulterior motive to it all.
"Really? I'm not that good of a student." You snickered.
"I don't need Einstein. Just...help me out a bit, yeah?" Reiner pleaded.
It was hard to say no to Reiner Braun. Everything about the man oozed sex appeal. The way he towered over you, the stubble and strong jawline.
You loved his fluffy blond hair the most.
"If you say so." You shrugged.
"Reiner, if you keep going on your phone there's no use of you staying here." You said as you faced him, in an agitated tone, when he finally came over to your dorm to start said study sessions.
And there was a slight twinge of jealousy when you caught a glimpse of Reiner's phone and he was sexting somebody.
He gave you a sheepish grin.
"Ah, sorry pretty baby." He switched off his phone and tossed it across the fleece duvet cover on your bed. "Look, you got my full attention now. See?"
You sighed as you could feel a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. The pet name made your cheeks heat up. You cleared your throat.
"I told you we should've gone library. People can't concentrate in their bedrooms. Let alone bed."
"Oh, c'mon." Reiner smiled as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. "Why would I wanna be there when I can have you all to myself here?"
The million-dollar smile you saw too often when his team won a big game on campus, and they all threw him up in the air, his handsome face on the flat screen.
You backed up, the books and notes falling off the bed as Reiner nudged his forehead against yours as your back hit the headboard.
"I'm sure we could get up to more interesting things than this crap." He murmured. Not kissing you just yet. Breath tickling your skin, sending shivers down your spine.
"...Reiner." You stuttered. "We shouldn't-"
"What? Do you have a man, honey? He doesn't need to know."
"No...I'm single. It's just.."
"What? Don't tell me it's Horseface." Reiner snorted. "Everybody on campus knows about that tragic Eren, Mikasa and Jean triangle."
You winced at him saying it aloud.
"I just..." You pulled a face. "I'm a virgin, Reiner. I haven't even had my first kiss."
"You've got to be kidding me." Reiner said, eyes widening.
You felt humiliation wash over you.
"I know, it makes me-"
"I'm gonna stop you right there." Reiner said firmly as he pulled away from invading your personal space. "You're telling me a girl as beautiful as you hasn't lost her v-card? Let alone her first kiss? I refuse to believe that."
"Reiner, I have no reason to lie." You said with an uneasy laugh.
"That smile..." He said in awe as he cupped your jaw. "A girl like you should never go without kisses, honey. It's a damn shame."
Thinking back, it was a bit funny.
On paper it'd be easy to brush off Reiner's praise, you had seen him exchanging dirty messages with somebody whilst he was sat beside you.
But the way those light brown eyes full of warmth gazed at you, and the way his voice softened as he said that, it had to be authentic.
Or maybe you were naive.
Either way, that was the story of what led up to Reiner killing two birds with one stone by being your first kiss and taking your virginity.
Jean Kirstein loved jumping to conclusions. He thought Reiner Braun was a big bad wolf preying on you and you wanted to laugh his face about it.
There was a multitude of reasons why you kept Reiner as a fuck buddy.
You were sleeping with Reiner to spite Jean. Spite him for making you feel so inferior to Mikasa all these years. And you went along with being nothing but a hookup to Reiner.
The aspect was thrilling. The killing blow of Jean discovering this was going to be sweet. It was malicious of you but he had hurt you, albeit unintentionally.
Reiner liked you for many reasons.
He loved the fact that if he came on a specific day, you were strict about which candle you'd use.
If he came over on a Friday evening, the room would have the aroma of lime, basil and mandarin wafting around. If it was a Saturday, it'd be cedarwood and vanilla.
Your room was always so comforting to him, his large frame amongst the plush pillows and comforters as he basked in the orange fairy lights as very soft RnB was in the background.
There'd been a few times when you'd put him on some songs or even shared your playlist.
He enjoyed the fact he had a front seat to the transition of you always dressing up in something lacy and sexy that bared your nipples when he came over to settling for regular baggy shirts.
Reiner was lounging on your bed, shirtless with his arms propped underneath his head. You approached him, settling on the edge of the mattress.
Sitting on one knee and your leg on the ground. Leaning in to peck his lips gently. You were sure friends with benefits didn't do that but sharing affection with him was natural at this point.
His hand slipped under your shirt, the pad of his thumb gently massaging circles on your hip with a smile.
"You good?"
"Yeah." You settled on as you gazed at him.
"You excited for the trip?"
"I wanna invite Jean if that's okay."
Reiner tilted his head, furrowing his brows in bewilderment.
"...Why?" He responded with an awkward laugh.
"Look, Jean can be intolerable at times-"
"Understatement."
"But underneath all of that, there's a very sweet guy. Loyal. Responsible, caring. He's going through a lot at the moment, shit he's barely processed himself."
"Sounds like you have a crush on him." Reiner remarked.
"Reiner...!"
"I'm teasing! But I know he means a lot to you. I'm always down to invite people if he's not gonna be a dick." Reiner settled on as he cracked his knuckles.
"Why do you two even hate each other?"
"Look, it's not that I don't like the guy. He's just really competitive and always trying to one-up me. Plus, we both have a thing for you and it gets awkward when we're all in one room."
"He does not have a thing for me. You know he's hung up on her."
"Yeah, yeah. All I know is during the group work if I so much as looked at you, he was jumping down my throat." Reiner said as he shook his head.
"You're sweet, Rei." You giggled as you straddled his lap.
"Honey, don't start with that "Rei" crap. You only do that when you want something." He chuckled as he turned away when you kissed along his jaw.
"Why can't I just show you how much I appreciate you?" You jutted your lower lip out as you batted your eyelashes.
His large and calloused hand settled on the nape of your neck as he pulled you close to meet your lips.
You melted into him as your lips moved in a steady rhythm, and you gasped when you felt the warm, wet muscle of his tongue slip past the seam of your lips.
Skin alight and nipples achingly hard. Reiner knew all the ways to get you turned on and begged for him fast with just a swipe of his tongue.
"You still not used to that, baby?" He chuckled darkly as he flicked his tongue against yours.
"It is a bit of a surprise." You murmured, unable to stop smiling.
"God, you're adorable." Reiner grinned.
Without warning, he flipped you onto your stomach. Getting off the mattress and pulling down his pants, you felt the wind knocked out of your chest as Reiner practically manhandled you to position you on all fours on the bed.
Never in your life had you felt this exposed when he yanked down your shorts and panties, tossing them onto the floor.
Smacking your plump ass and grinning impishly to himself at the recoil, he spread your cheeks wide, mouth salivating at your wet pussy and puckered asshole on display.
He chuckled playfully as he teased your heat with his tongue, absolutely relishing in the sweet sounds of your moans and gasps.
Continuing to worship your body with his mouth, alternating between licking and nibbling at your sensitive spots, sliding a finger inside.
"That's right, pretty baby. Let it all out for me." His hand kneading and palming at your breast, roughly as he intensified his oral assault.
"There you go..." He clambered on the mattress behind you, his cock throbbing with need as he whispered in your ear as he licked the shell of it.
He flipped you onto your back with a smug smile, ego-inflated. He grabbed his girthy shaft and began to rub his tip teasingly against your glistening folds.
You stammered his name.
His head was full with the way you gasped and writhed beneath him, your eyes pleading with him to fill you up.
"You want it?" He asked, his voice low. "Want me to fuck you until you can't walk straight?"
"Want you s'bad, Rei." You mewled.
"Take all of me. Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around my cock."
You winced at how harshly Reiner's fingers gripped onto your hips as he slammed into you almost ruthlessly.
Your fists bunched up the sheets as you felt his cock glide against your gummy walls, every vein and the way he slide into you had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
He kissed you deeply as you came, pulling out at the last moment so that he could coat your stomach with the sticky warm threads.
He leaned over you and, scooped up the hot cum from your stomach with his tongue, licking it up slowly and sensually.
When he gathered enough of it, he hovered over your lips and spat the cum into your mouth, watching as you swallowed it down.
"You're such a dirty girl," He said with a grin. "Wonder how our little Jean boy would react if he knew his best friend was a total slut, mhm?"
"Don't wanna talk about him right now." You muttered eyes half lidded from how spent you were as your felt your lips swollen and savored the taste of Reiner's cum.
"That's it. Keep your eyes on me, yeah?" He smiled as he gripped your chin, his thumb pressing underneath your tongue. It was slightly discomforting but thrilling all the same.
"Wanna keep you all to myself." He murmured as he released his grip and placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek.
You hated it when he said things like this. It was only the heat of the moment. He has a whole roster of women waiting for him for the rest of the week.
Instead of speaking, you simply slid your hand into his and squeezed it.
"Can't wait to fuck you in every room." He chuckled darkly as he pulled you up against him, kissing your neck.
Your eyebrows furrowed when Reiner left the next morning. He was an early bird and preferred to be out before the dean caused a ruckus.
Why was Jean's mother calling you?
"Hi darling." She cooed. "I hope I didn't wake you too early. I know Jeanie is probably fast asleep."
"Nah, it's fine. I was up anyways. How are you?" You responded as you fished for the discarded clothes across your bedroom's carpet.
"Nothing to complain." She snickered. "Jean's been pestering me about coming here."
"I told him to drop it."
"I know that boy is stubborn. He dropped something about you inviting him to stay at some college friend's mansion?"
"He did? He seemed like he didn't wanna go at all."
"Oh, he doesn't. It was just because I asked about you." She said plainly.
"You and Jean would make a lovely couple."
This was a sentence that popped up every single time you came to Jean's mother's home or even called. She even said it in the presence of the both of you, resulting in Jean to stutter and grow crimson red.
"I just worry about him. It makes me sound selfish, but I wanted to have grandchildren before I go." She sighed. "But time is a luxury for me."
"I get it. But...Jean is Jean. He has eyes for another."
Jean being a father at twenty two would've been hilarious.
"That's a pity. Well, just do me a favor and try to persuade him to go to your little friend's house."
"I'll-"
“Now who was it?” You groaned internally, yanking the door open.
You gave Jean a one over as he loomed over you.
"You can tell him yourself." You said wryly as you shoved your phone into Jean's hand.
"Ma, stop calling Y/N every time you can't reach me!" He groaned as he followed in after you.
After him squabbling with his mom, he hung up and turned to face you with a scowl.
"Why was Reiner leaving here?" He asked.
You shrugged.
"He's probably seeing somebody in these dorms." You lied through your teeth. "What brings you here?"
"I'll come with you."
"How long?"
"Two weeks."
"Alright. Deal." You smiled as you pinched his cheek. "Don't do your energy vampire crap."
"Shut up." He snapped.
author’s note: first chapter out YAYAYA 🌚 lawl the ride is gonna be wild so strap in. all of em are a mess but we move ANYWAYSSS TY FOR READING IF U GOT THIS FAR LOL REBLOGS N COMMENTS ALWAYS APPRECIATED 😁
#aot x reader#jean kirstein x reader#reiner braun x reader#aot x female reader#aot smut#jean kirstein#reiner braun#reiner smut#jean angst#aot jean#jean kirschstein#jean kirschstein x reader#reiner angst#aot x y/n#⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ nara scribbles
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a/n: mild spoilers for aot finale i guess? honestly, it's very vague and doesn't go into any detail but still.
this is also strongly inspired by aot rewrite, the bond, so expect a scene like this when i get to season four lol.
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You relish in these moments.
These brief, temporary moments that always end far too soon before the looming threat of death weighs down on your shoulders once more, so heavy and so persistent you feel as if your legs might give out from beneath you.
You loved them even more when Jean stood in front of you.
His hands splayed across you, drifting across your body as he pulls at the leather straps wrapped around you, making sure they’re tight and secure and not going to give out when you jumped out of the plane and descended upon what could very well be your doom. You’ve experienced this enough times to have lost count and yet, it’s never any less scary.
You know he feels the same. Can feel the slight tremor of his hands as his eyes focus on you, or rather your body, not letting anything distract him as he makes sure everything is okay. He’s done this since the two of you got together, and honestly before that, while it hadn’t been quite as intimate, he’d still taken extra care to make sure you were strapped in properly to the ODM gear, that your gear wasn’t broken or malfunctioned in any way.
You figured this gave him a sense of control.
Something he lost when the both of you went out there.
And you understood – the two of you would always keep your eyes on each other, make sure you were okay, but things happened. Sometimes, you get separated. Sometimes, you are assigned separate missions, ordered on the far ends of each other. Sometimes, shit went to shit (which happened more than you’d like to think about) and you just couldn’t keep an eye on each other. But here? He can assure you’re ready, strapped in tight and safe and that everythings okay before he won’t know anymore.
“Jean.”
He doesn’t respond or falter. Your call of his name is soft, a mere whisper, but the two of you are tucked away into a corner away from the others and honestly, they were just as dead silent – you’ve all done this a million times but… still. This was different. It just was.
“Jean, look at me.”
Fingers pause, splayed across your shoulders, his eyes slowly flicker up to your own. He can barely meet your own, and the fear that blatantly stares back at you scares you, makes your heart hurt and you wish you could just take it all away but the harsh reality is you can’t.
This is your reality.
“It’ll be okay.”
He shakes his head, head bowed; “you don’t know that.”
“You’re right,” you admit, because there’s no point arguing. You don’t know. That’s why all of this is so terrifying. “I don’t know if it’ll be okay and I don’t know what’s going to happen the second we leave this plane. But, Jean,” shifting, you cup both of his cheeks with your hands, palms pressing against his skin as you meet his gaze, never faltering, never wavering–he needs to know this. “I know that I will do everything in my power to come back to you. And I know you’ll do the same.”
He shuffles closer, pressing his chest against yours as his hands move to your hips, tugging you closer. “Yeah,” he mumbles, voice husky and lips inches away from your own. “Always.”
Letting your forehead fall against his own, you let your eyes fall shut; “we come back to each other, yeah?”
His grip tenses, squeezing, as he lets out one last shuttering breath.
“Yeah.”
#aot#aot x reader#attack on titan#attack on titan x reader#snk#snk x reader#shingeki no kyojin#jean kirstein#jean kirstein x reader#jean x reader#jean fluff#jean angst
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been thinking about the alternate ending to being w/ fuckboy! Jean where he abandons reader and they end up w/ Connie
content: fem! reader x connie, unrequited love, ft. Jean, modern!au, established relationship, soooort of angsty ig?
Jean fucked up.
He started having feelings about his wrongdoings once he grew out of his childish, immature, college freshman personality. It was a few years after graduation, where he’d finally started acting like a real adult with responsibilities. When he stopped being an asshole and treating girls like toys just there for his amusement. When he lay amongst cold sheets at night, alone, craving more than just the high of a one-night-stand. It was on one of those empty, quiet nights that he knew he fucked up with you.
You’d been head-over-heels infatuated with him, and terrible at hiding it. Easy pickings for Jean at the time, he loved girls like you; they jumped at the thought of Jean claiming them, not aware he’d leave them heartbroken and falling apart in a couple of weeks. All you knew was that the handsome face you adored was giving you his attention. Jean was pulling you into him and holding off other admirers who definitely had better intentions for you. You didn’t know Jean was just using you for a quick fuck, and would ditch you the moment he grew tired of your company.
That moment came sooner than you were ready for. You couldn’t have been together more than a month. Jean slept with you a few times, and then completely ghosted you after. He knew you wouldn’t confront him in front of his friends, and it was almost effortless to avoid you around campus. You caught on way quicker than past partners of his, or maybe you were just less desperate. It took less than a week for you to give up your efforts, and trying to purge Jean from your mind.
One of his best friends, Connie, had a crush on you, Connie didn’t like the way Jean had treated you, especially knowing that Jean knew he liked you. Jean didn’t care. He did what he wanted, not giving too much of a fuck about how Connie felt. ‘You can still have her.’, he said, totally insensitive to the situation.’I’m done with her now.’ Jean thought Connie stopped pursuing you, having never mentioned your name again. He assumed Connie was just jealous and put-off that he’d gotten to you first.
It was six months later that Jean found out the truth, and only by pure luck. He caught a glimpse of you at Connie’s house after showing up unannounced, rushing back into his bedroom wrapped in a towel and quietly shutting the door behind you.
“Who was that?”, he asks Connie.
Connie glances over his shoulder, nibbling on his bottom lip before he answers.”Ah, my girl’s back there showering.”
That’s all he would say, and all Jean would ask. He stayed over for a few minutes to talk to Connie before his friend ushered him out. “Going out with my girl for a while. We can talk later, yeah?”
“Uh..yeah.”
He never asked again, and Connie never brought you up, except only in passing. And now Jean lay here, years later, isolated and bored in his room, craving touch and your touch specifically. He vaguely remembers the ghost of your fingertips clutching onto him for dear life years ago, never wanting to let him go. How tight you used to hold his hand, how bright your smile was when Jean would kiss your knuckles and lie to you about putting a ring on your finger some day. His stomach drops when he recalls that grief-stricken look you gave him when you realized he didn’t actually love you. That shattered stare you gave him from across the room as you watched some girl cling to him, and Jean pretending not to notice you. The thought makes him sick. He thinks about how different he felt with you, how much you loved to love him and how good it felt to be around you. How he just ignored that unique feeling of love he had for you, and threw it all away because he was stupid and just interested in using people for his own pleasure. He’d never get the chance to have you back or make it up to you, and he was reminded of it every time he glanced at the little silver ring hanging from a chain around your neck.
He really fucked up.
#jean x reader#connie x reader#jean angst#jean kirstein angst#aot x reader#aot angst#connie springer x reader#jean kirschstein x reader#connie springer imagine#aot imagine#jean kirstein imagine
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Breaking up with them -Jean and Keqing
Characters: Jean Gunnhildr & Keqing
Genre: Angst
A/N: GN reader in Jean's, Male reader in Keqing's, a passing mention of sex, no comfort. Keqing is quite mean in this one.
Jean Gunnhildr
You knew what you signed up for when you accepted Jean's proposal. Long hours at the office limited the time you two could spend together, and you were okay with it. At first. After three months of seeing her working herself down to the bone, you started taking interest in what she was *actually* busying herself with. You asked the other closest person to her, Lisa. And what you found was... You had conflicted feelings about it. On one side, imagining Jean climbing the rooftops in search of signposts blown away by the wind was quite funny, albeit frustrating. On the other hand, it broke your heart. This was what she was doing instead of taking care of herself? Instead of eating regularly, sleeping, spending time with you?
Another date idea, another promise. Another disappointment. You agreed on hanging out at 9PM on Star Snatch Cliff. You figured it would be late enough for Jean to have finished her work, but not too late to be tired. And Jean, despite having agreed to it, didn't show up. You waited for about two hours before heading back to the town. All of the candles, the bottle of dandelion wine, crackers and cheese you've prepared, splayed out on the blanket, looked like they were mocking you. How stupid you've been, they say, to think that she would come. You were even thinking that yourself. You took a sizable book with you to keep yourself from getting bored. It became a habit of yours when the streak of missed dates reached three.
Before you left for the city, the candles landed in the sea.
The first person you saw in the headquarters was Otto. You inquired about Jean's location, and heard the expected answer. It turned out that she passed out on her desk. Normally, you would scoop her up into your arms and carry her home, jokingly scolding the woman for her behavior. Maybe you would have done that two months ago. Now, you just shaked her gently.
As soon as her eyes met yours, she jolted upright. Her gaze quickly turned towards the grandfather clock in her room. It was well past midnight. She opened her mouth to speak, but you cut her off.
"What was it this time, Acting Grandmaster? Fighting some Hilichurls a boy with a sword could handle for a few thousand Mora? Or delivering fowls and berries to the Good Hunter?" You asked, a bit more harshly than you wanted.
"I'm sorry, Y/N, I really am. I just got all of these papers to fill, and I really had to complete them, I swear, and one hour turned into two and... and... it came out as it did." A slurry of words came out of her mouth in response. You could tell the tone was apologetic, but it meant nothing. It sounded like she cared, but nothing could be further from the truth. If she really was, she would have at least tried to change.
"Sure, sure. Let me see what the fuss is about." Jean raised her hand to stop you, but you snatched a handful of files from the top of her little pile of shame.
"Favonius kitchen spendings." You flipped to another page. "Break room damage review. Maid work orders. What is this, and why do you have to waste your time on it?"
Jean stayed silent. She lowered her gaze, feeling a pool of shame in her stomach. There was no answer, really. She had a habit of taking all the bureaucracy she was offered. Jean knows this is bad, you've told her countless times. She promised to change, but it always went back to the starting point. She knew this was her fault.
Seeing her dejected expression, you almost felt sorry for fighting Jean right now, at this hour. Almost.
You still pulled out the wine bottle, and headed for her cupboard. Upon seeing your reflection in the clean glass, however, you halted yourself. Was this really healthy? Are you really going to try again? Isn't this madness, trying something you know won't get the expected results over and over again, hoping to see a change?
Yes, this was indeed wrong.
You went back towards the door, turning to the large flower pot in the corner. It housed a healthy bush of blooming dandelions. It was a gift from you for her twenty-third birthday. Getting these to grow in a pot was a struggle, even for Albedo whose help you enlisted. But after a few months you managed it, and you couldn't have felt more proud of it. It all seemed so stupid now.
In a burst of frustration, or sadness - at this point you weren't sure - you removed the cork (you've already unsealed the bottle to sip a little of the alcohol in order to help you cope with the cold and loneliness hours before) and tilted the bottle over the decoration. Jean watched in horror as the wine poured down to the soil, staining it red. Tears formed in her eyes. There was nothing she could say, nothing she could do. For the last year you showed her immense patience and understanding, helped her everywhere you could, comforted her when in need and she couldn't eve find a few hours in her day for you.
"Find me when you finally come to your senses, Jean."
She heard the door click close, leaving her in silence. Holding her emotions in became impossible as the realization dawned on her. She buried her face in her hands, and laid down on her desk.
It was all her fault.
Keqing
Loving Keqing was hard, to say the least. Being the Yuheng came with a lot of responsibilities, meaning little free time usually remained for you two to enjoy. Unfortunately, that 'free time' of hers would often turn into voluntary overtime, leaving you to spend your time alone. It was bearable at first. You met in the morning for breakfast before she scurried off to her tasks, and late in the night to rest together. She made a lot of promises to 'free up her schedule', and occasionally she really did. But the time you spent together slowly grew more awkward as her workload increased. Less and less interactions took place between you. It came down to a few 'good mornings' and 'how was your days', maybe some 'good nights' as well. The long debates about the future, friendly arguments about values, shopping and hiking, were gone. The spark in her eyes when you finally had free time was gone, replaced with a distant expression and a dull voice. Most nights you would just stare at the ceiling, holding your hand on the empty side of the bed to feel any connection to your girlfriend. Sometimes this loneliness would last for weeks. But it was your second month of isolation, and you were reaching a breaking point.
You pick at the food on your plate. On the opposite side of the table sits Keqing, practically inhaling the Golden Shrimp Balls you made her. It was late afternoon, and she had much more things to do. In a rare moment of realization, she took a fifteen minute break to visit you and have a meal together. In her eyes you could see all the thoughts rushing through her brain. None of the considerations were about you, however. Not a thought, even a passing one. She didn't try to spark a conversation at any point. Actually, scratch that. Having a meal together is saying too much. You were just eating at the same table.
Keqing pushes the empty plate towards you, and moves to get up.
"Thank you fo-"
You stand up and grab her forearm, preventing her from running off again.
"No, Keqing. We need to talk." You say firmly, not letting go.
She rolls her eyes, a gesture which makes your blood run faster.
"Y/N, is it really that important? I have places to go. Can't we put this off for later?" She asks, politely, but in a rushed fashion.
"Put off, you say? Put off for when, exactly?"
"For when I have free time, obviously. But that's not now, Y/N. I'm really busy with the Qixing because of the Lant-"
"The Qixing." You cut her off again, much to her frustration. "The Qixing. It's all there is to you, isn't it?"
Keqing relaxes her tug on your arm, seemingly caught off-guard by your statement.
"Come again?" She asks.
"I rarely see you do anything other than sign papers and run errands for Ningguang. You work six hours of overtime every day. On your own demand." You point out.
"Yes, and what about it?" She sounds annoyed now.
"What about it? Well, I get the feeling you prioritize them over me."
She opens her mouth to bite back, but closes it shortly. She tries again.
"That's not true. I do not prefer my job over you."
"Oh really? When was the last time we did something together?"
"We... We made love a few times recently, have we not? Isn't it enough for you?"
What.
She was right. You did. But the sex didn't make up for her negligent behavior, especially that it was so obviously forced. There was no passion, no excitement from either of you, like with your first few times. There was no chemistry between you. She didn't arrange any romantic meeting like you always did. She just randomly came up to you one night and asked, practically demanded it. You fulfilled her wish, obviously, but she didn't look very satisfied. Her mind was clearly somewhere else. As soon as you were done, she went for the bathroom and back to sleep in a span of ten minutes. She needed to get to work in six hours, so she wanted to get any sleep she could. All of this made it feel not like quality time, but like scraps of attention thrown your way.
And she thinks it's all you need from her? You voiced your concerns.
"You think so low of me?"
"Low?"
"Do you think it's all I need from you? Do you think a few kisses will suddenly make up for all of those times you've left me hanging, alone in the cold, because something came up?"
She huffs.
"Building a strong and prosperous Liyue is my dream, and I'm willing to sacrifice my personal things for it."
You laugh at just how selfish she is.
"You don't consider me a party in this scenario? You call me a thing? Oh, and wasn't starting a family one of your dreams, too? You said it a few months back, when we went on a trip around the coast. Have you forgotten already?"
Keqing furrows her brows, but the frown of annoyance doesn't leave her features.
"I want to make this country safe before we do that. These are the basic conditions, you know."
"A basic condition is also having a loving husband who wants the same, is it not?
"You don't love me?" It's the first question she asks, almost instinctively. It's the easiest thing to inquire about, and may give her some time to think of a response.
"I don't think that's the case anymore, Keqing."
Your answer throws her off guard.
"What do you mean?" She asks, now much less dismissive of your entire exchange.
"You feel... like a stranger to me. You rarely spend time with me nowadays. When was the last time you had a free day, during which we could just rest and do something fun? Go shopping, or to the mountains? Where are the long, meaningful talks we used to have?"
She is pensive. Combing through her memory yields no results of any recent rest days.
"I know it's been stale between us, I've been snowed under work, but I promise it's going to get better soon." Her voice is not so firm anymore.
"I'm sorry, but it's been two months. For sixty days you have neglected me. You showed me that strangers are more important than me. What was that hangout with the Traveler about? You can find time for him, but not for me?"
She remembers now. Indeed, she entertained Aether for a few hours, at first for job-related reasons. But it was simply fun being around him and Paimon, even up to the point when she agreed to go have a meal with the two. It ended up taking an entire day.
Her eyes widen as, slowly, the realization dawns on her. She forgot. Forgot about you.
"S-surely you don't want to...?" She asks, hoping to get a comforting response.
"Yes, Keqing. I think it's best we split up here. "
No.
No no no.
"B-but... what about o-our dream? About our family, our wedding, our future?"
"It's not your dream. If it was, we wouldn't be talking about it right now. But looks like you treated this more like a distraction. You treated me as a distraction."
Her heart cracks more and more with every word.
"That's n-not true!"
You let go of her hand and turn to leave.
"So I won't distract you any further. You have a country to run, after all."
Keqing grabs your forearm weakly, hoping, praying to make you stay.
"Don't g-go. Please."
You yank your arm away, and move away from the table.
"Goodbye, Lady Yuheng. Good luck with your work."
You've left the restaurant, and the woman is alone, safe for a few people in the corner. Her title falling from your lips hurt. It felt so cold and spiteful, despite being said so emotionlessly. Her mind raced, attempting to cover everything that would change from now on. Her plan was left in splinters. Since you were now gone, she couldn't propose on top of mt. Tianheng, like she envisioned it. You couldn't get married in the Jade Chamber. You couldn't plan and build your own house from the ground up. And you couldn't have children. You couldn't travel to Inazuma, couldn't have a beach day, couldn't start a garden, couldn't adopt a pet.
All of her dreams involving you just burnt to the ground in a span of merely ten minutes.
Her knuckles are white from how powerful her grip is on her purple dress. Keqing's fingers wrinkle the material as soft tears flow over her cheeks. She stiffles a sob.
Gone.
Everything is gone.
Thanks for reading!
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin x male reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x gn reader#genshin impact x you#genshin x you#genshin impact x male reader#jean gunhildr x reader#jean gunnhildr x gn reader#jean angst#keqing x reader#keqing x male reader#jean x you#keqing angst#angst#genshin impact angst#genshin angst#no comfort#fanfic#breakup#genshin impact jean#genshin impact keqing#jean x gn reader#jean x y/n
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WAYS TO SAY I LOVE YOU #4 ★ masterlist.
pairing: jean x reader
genre: major canon divergence fic | warnings: scouting mission events, blood, gore, violence, character death, lance is fictional, decapitations | wc: 3.1k
note: emphasis on canon divergence! you've been warned :P
⏤ Imagine the way they say I love you. Imagine the words choked out as hands race over skin, checking for injuries and begging for reassurance.
Captain Levi told every recruit when they first joined the Survey Corps that one of the most important things to remember whilst being a cadet was not to pay attention, or remember to tighten your harnesses before leaving for breakfast, but instead, he preached that under absolutely zero circumstances should you ever, if you can try, ever fall in love within the ranks.
It hadn’t seemed obvious to the cadets at the time, because wasn’t love good? Wasn’t love what fuelled the motivation to return? Surely, Captain Levi, this was good. But, the Captain stared back at the crowd of novice cadets and frowned, a pinched irritation between his eyebrows.
“Imagine going into battle and becoming distracted because all you can care about is the safety of that person,” Captain Levi had said, gently resting his hands on his knees, speaking as though telling from experience. Perhaps he was. “Imagine putting all your love and time into this one person, and then having that person ripped from your hands.”
Nobody had said anything, and only sat there with dawning realisation as Captain Levi stood from his chair and tucked it under the table quietly. “None of you deserve that pain. Do as I say, and you’ll thank me when it’s all over.”
Jean had been there listening that day, sitting on a chair next to Lance, who had found himself a favourite of Squad Leader Hange. He had shifted uncomfortably under the judgemental gaze of the shorter captain, but as he walked away with his head tucked down and his chin on his torso, Jean suddenly felt a new wave of respect for his Captain. Watching as Captain Levi retreated out of the hall without another word, silently dismissing everybody present, Jean sucked in a breath when beside him, you nudged his elbow with a small smile.
Jean was not on your squad; despite joining the scouts together, Captain Levi had made the decision to split you, with Jean joining Captain Hange's squad and Squad Leader Mike taking yourself. As the gates lifted at a chillingly slow speed, Jean chanced a glance in your direction, and his heart paused when you looked right back at him.
Quietly he chuckled, the sight of a toothy smile hitting him in the face and then shyly retreating to look back towards the back of Mike’s head. Jean watched for a moment longer and then suddenly looked away, meeting the quick glance from Captain Levi. The Captain said nothing, because he didn’t need to say anything. Jean looked down quickly with a spreading feeling of shame at being caught, and frustration at being the first known cadet to break Captain Levi’s golden rule.
The city stood in spires of thick smoke, the distant growls of hungry and wandering titans filling the city as the squad rolled in, immediately falling into their formations. Nobody had ventured into this area since it had fallen, evident by the piles of chalky rubble and bodies and limbs littered like petals from a wedding, stained blood pools and flattened bodies underneath fallen boulders the size of small houses. Jean clenched the reigns of his horse tighter, the skin of his hands turning bone white- the city felt eerily silent towards the west side that Jean and the rest of his squad had moved towards. This time, and uncharacteristic of his Captain, Hange was wordless, looking at the damage quickly, missing nothing. Jean did the same, cowering as they passed the shadows cast by the passing buildings, jagged and reflecting like monsters teeth before the sun.
“Grumbling, east, Captain,” Monicka said, her hair framing her collarbones as she looked in that direction and then back at Hange, who nodded with a grunt and continued forward. “We should investigate that. It’s getting closer, Captain.”
“The surrounding squads will do their jobs,” Felix replied with a frown. “You should lower your voice.”
Monicka’s eyebrows furrowed. “But-”
Her words were cut short, following the thunderous stuttering of heavy footsteps both beyond and behind the small formation of horses. Jean’s stallion whinnied, standing up on two legs in protest and he quickly calmed him down, whispering hushed assurances as Hange looked behind them and towards two titans bounding towards them.
“Take those,” they said, already tightening their harness and adjusting their belt. Monicka clung onto the reigns of her horse and called out their name with horror as they stood up off their horse and projected towards the group of titans beyond the formation. A passing glance spread through the group as two other members followed their Captain, leaving Monicka, Jean and Franz to steer backwards, heading on horseback towards the two scurrying towards them, in an attempt to create a diversion.
“Left, Jean!” Monicka screamed over the noise of the wind and the hooves of the horses, pointing out as if it weren’t already obvious by her command. Jean paused and did as she said, making a movement left which alerted his horse to move in that direction, catching the attention of one of the titans. If he could just make it towards the end of this street, he’d be able to launch off and swing back around and-
As he planned his escape in his head, Jean had no time to retaliate at the sight of another titan jumping in front of his horse, startling them both. He attempted to grip for dear life on the reigns but when his horse again rose, he flung Jean up off his back and scampered between the legs of the titan, who crouched and ignored the mare to move towards Jean. He hissed out a string of curses and launched between the space of his legs, following his horse down the end of the street and turning up and out, landing on one of the sloped roofs of a nearby house, out of the titans scrawny reach.
From his stance on the roof, Jean could get a scope for the district; he paused to take it all in, the chaotic and destructive beauty of the fallen architecture and contrasting greens of nearby fields, spreading with dull flames and dry yellow grass dusted with brown and black. Jean rubbed at his thighs, feeling an ache and when he happened to look over in the direction of the nearby fields, he froze.
The characteristic sight of Commander Erwin’s blonde hair screamed out amongst the burnt landscape and immediately Jean’s body went cold, his eyes instinctively scanning the environment to look for you- for your hair, and your small frame, and the way your cape was too big due to sizes and stock being scarce. Your enrolment group had been larger than usual. He searched frantically, not even noticing his heartbeat increasing. Almost comically so, a large sigh escaped his lips when he spotted a retreating figure on foot, hair cut bluntly to their chin, the cape that had been pulled apart. Wait, on foot?
Jean launched himself down from the roof and towards the scene, passing the rest of his squad who had joined further down the street. He prayed that Captain Levi hadn’t noticed him whiz past from somewhere, but knowing Levi, he knew. In-fact, he watched with an almost pitiful look after having crossed paths with Hange's squad as Jean soared past, failing to mention it to the rest of Hange's squad who worried about Jean’s safety. Because Jean’s smart, Franz had said with a disbelieving smile, he knows how to get around, he’s fine. He could be punished later.
Down on the ground, Jean rushed past a pile of abandoned rubble and towards the meadow, however, he stopped dead in his tracks when the figure he had spotted rushed past him wearing a face entirely different to your own. His heart plummeted to the pit of his stomach, a sour taste in his mouth.
“Kirstein?!”
Jean turned suddenly, flinching when a senior cadet took down a titan near the river. Lance ran towards him with a worried expression. “Where the hell’s the rest of your squad? Is your captain okay?”
“I-I don’t know, a titan came and fuckin- look, have you seen Y/N?” Jean replied, straining his voice over the volume of the chaos. “Is she okay?”
“How the fuck am I supposed to know? I’m not on her squad!” Lance yelled, and before he left, he smacked Jean on his shoulder and pointed in a vague direction: “Saw Erwin’s head of fucking precious yellow hair go that way. Dunno about Mike. She could be down there? I don’t know, look, I ain’t got time for this, sorry!”
So suddenly, Jean didn’t even care, or care to bid Lance a mutual farewell. Instead, he hurried across the dried and barren grass in the direction Lance had gestured to, parting the smoke with his bare hands like curtains as he ran. As he ran, and occasionally joined other cadets and soldiers take down loitering titans, Jean couldn’t rid of Levi’s voice, taunting and judging and hissing and yelling, Jean Kirstein you’re a fucking failure, you couldn’t even follow the easiest instruction, and now look at you!
But he didn’t care. He couldn’t find it in him to care, as he ran towards where he noticed the body of Hans, another member of Mike’s squad. Jean’s pace quickened, bounding towards him, and as his mouth opened to call out his name, Jean stumbled back with a strangled cry when nearby rubble from a building came crashing down with the impact of an abnormal lunging at its structure, chunks of huge concrete and brick running down like a waterfall and suffocating Hans instantly, a halo of crimson running out from the underside of giant chunks of the nearby chapel.
All at once, Jean felt like he couldn’t breathe, like his lungs had taken in too much smoke for them to continue keeping him alive. As he began to fall back to the man made jungle of the district, to collect a horse who stood tied to a post, raging to leave in panic, Jean looked across the landscape one last time, about to give up. It was then when he noticed you- and it was you, there was no denying; you dragged a body from underneath a layer of stone towards a little shelter made behind a wagon, with two injured cowered underneath. Jean’s heart wanted to jump out of his chest and he set off on a run, although lengths away. He tried calling out, Y/N! My Y/N!, but his voice carried with the wind, lost in whispers. You couldn’t hear him. You couldn’t see him. Actually, you couldn’t hear or see anything.
Jean had never run so fast in his entire life. Still too far away, Jean couldn’t avoid looking at the landscape, observing collapses and wincing at roars of pain and victory, and exasperated deaths around him. When his bloodshot gaze fell back onto you, Jean’s eyebrows rose with horror when he noticed a titan creeping up behind you, an arm extending outwards with arthritic fingers curling near your cape. His voice rose in octaves in panic, and he was so close- so, so close-
Jean nearly fell over his own feet with devastation when the titan’s fingers curled around you, yanking you back like a ragdoll. He didn’t stop to marvel at the scene- he ran faster, launching a grappler into the shoulder of the titan and swinging up, choking in the wind and the smoke and the stale smell of blood and sweat and tears, and as he curved and dug his blade unapologetically into the nape of the titan, his face wrangled up in pain at the sound of your screams filling the air. For a moment he caught his balance on the shoulder, doing nothing but watching with horror at the way you fell to the floor in what looked like slow-motion, a chunk of your body missing.
“Y/N! Oh my God, oh my fucking God, Y/N-” Jean instantly moved to the ground next to you, his hands desperately scrambling at nothing- your left-side missing, blood pouring out like water between fingers. In haste, Jean flung off his cloak and wrapped it around you, choking back on his tears. “Oh my God, oh my fucking God, Y/N, I’m so sorry-”
“No-” Your voice broke off with a wince of pain, and you clung onto his hand tightly. “Jean-”
“Oh my God, no, please, come on, baby, you can do it, come on, let me help, come-” His voice trailed off as he hoisted you up by your armpits, dragging you with laboured breaths towards the wagon that had been splintered by the titan’s fall. Jean carefully laid you down, his eyes wide with panic. God knows how long you had left, your last few seconds hanging on by a breaking thread. He watched as your face paled and your soul struggling behind lips, fighting to be free. Jean let out a whine, his head falling to your intertwined hands: “Fuck, this is so fucking unfair. Why did it have to be you-?”
“Jean, please,” you forced your voice to speak. Perhaps he was imagining you tugging on his hands bringing him down, but he did so anyway, his forehead rested just above your breasts. “Jean. It’s okay. It’s okay.”
He shook his head. “No. No, come on, Levi can help you- he knows what to do, he always knows what to do, we can save you, you’re not dying today-”
“I am. I am.”
“No.”
“Please, Jean,” you wept. Was the sky getting lighter or was that your vision. “Jean.”
“No!” He exclaimed with fury. “You can’t leave me- you’re the only thing I have left!” After a loud and particularly painful sob left his mouth, Jean moved with his thighs and picked up your head, resting it in his lap with his hands threaded in your hair. “You’re all I have left,” he whispered. “Please. You’re okay, you’re okay. It’s okay, yeah? It’s okay. It’s gonna be over soon, we’ll get you fixed up.”
He had no idea what he was saying. Nothing was okay. Nothing was ever going to be okay.
“I love you,” you croaked, bringing one bloody hand to his cheek and letting it fall back down, leaving a mark of agony across his face, “More than anything in the world.”
Jean could feel the tears spilling down his face, his breaths becoming more uncontrollable as reality came down from the sky and sat on his shoulders, petting his hair. He cursed with his eyes closed and looked down at your missing left side, the blood that had soaked almost black with intensity, the grass painted with ruby. In his head, he dreamt ten thousand dreams; ones that included a recovery, one with a sunny future and front porch and cornfields and a baby, a little baby screaming Mommy and Daddy and a picture frame with the three of you, a snapshot from a wedding, oh a beautiful future he had with you-
When Jean opened his eyes to look back down at you, the three words on his lips, his lips trembled with denial. Your face had paused, your eyes half-lidded and staring up at the sky with a vacant and ghostly expression, and then, Jean’s heart sank, falling with a crash that shattered it into thousands of pieces.
With hands in your hair, on your face, running your body, begging for reassurance and screaming for a sign, Jean cradled your limp frame in his arms, his sobbing face buried into the crook of your neck. Your body pressed against his rumbling crying, silenced by the city and the ghosts surrounding him, crouching to your body to pull at your hair and bring you up from the floor to a hug, walking you away across the barrens towards a golden light. Jean watched nothing happen, cursing out the sky.
“Did you say everything you wanted to?”
Jean sat with his legs swung over the side of the roof, not bothering to move when he heard Captain Levi’s voice call out from behind him, followed by the window being propped open and his smaller body moving to join him on the ledge.
“How’d you find up here? I thought we closed off that corridor,” Levi said quietly, looking at Jean who stared ahead, wordless. Levi sighed. “Did you?”
Jean finally blinked back a tear. “No.”
A beat of silence passed.
“What would you have said?” Levi asked, not pushing but inquisitive. If there was anybody in the castle who could keep a secret, it would be him, and Jean knew that, carefully picking up his chin to look at the sinking pink sun.
“I-I would have told her what I wanted to,” Jean started. “I would have told her that I loved her. That I wanted it to be me and not her. I wanted to tell her that she was the best thing in my life. That she was my best friend. That it really was me who ate the last of the cake at dinner last weekend and I lied and blamed Connie instead. I just- I would have let her know that I cared. That I’d miss her.”
Levi averted his gaze, looking down at the forests surrounding the castle. Such a lovely venue for such a dull affair, he thought, and in his head, he thought of that day, filled with rain and blood and complete and utter agony.
Levi licked his lips, swallowing his own lump. “They’re never really gone,” he said finally. “Not really. They’re still with you, one way or another.” He hesitated before pressing a palm into Jean’s shoulder with a tucked in frown. “I think she heard you. I think she knows all of that.”
Jean hoped so. He hoped that Levi’s words- words that could have been scolding I told you so’s and judgemental comments about how Love Finds A Way To Break Your Heart- were true, and he hoped that somewhere, somehow, you knew what your loss meant to him.
Jean hoped under the sun, the palm on his shoulder, the pinks on his skin, and the bloody handprint on his cheek like a badge of disgraced honour.
#jean kirstein#jean kirstein x reader#jean x reader#jean kirschtein#jean kirschtein x reader#jean imagine#jean angst#attack on titan#aot#aot imagine#attack on titan imagine#aot canon divergence#canon divergence au#angst#magunes#mine#jeanbie
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Lost
Farmer! Jean Kirstein x Fem! Reader
Summary: Stuck on the side of the road, you feel hopeless at this point. Until your knight and shining armor comes in the form of a farmer with a mullet.
Warnings: 18+, swearing, explicit sex (oral + couch sex!), a bit of angst, Reader gets stranded lmao, Jean is super sweet </3
wc: 5.3k
“Do you need help over there?” An out of breath deep voice yells out to you, despite the heavy patter of the rain, the voice was clear.
You turn around quickly, wet hair hitting you in the face. Your car right behind you, stuck in the thick mud, hazards flashing in the gray sky. The clouds covered the sky, making the five in the afternoon weather look more like eight at night.
“I’m okay!” You cup your mouth, in hopes of vocalizing yourself over the rain. Your dress suctioned to your body, hugging every curve and crease. Your heels are covered in mud, probably not fixable at this rate. You hop back into the driver seat of your car, twisting the key in your car, hoping for it to turn on. As you twist the key, there’s no sound indicating it’s turning on, or that it’s going to turn on anytime soon. You groan and hastily grab your keys, throwing them on the passenger seat in frustration.
A sudden knock is heard, you look over seeing a man standing with his fist on your window. You quickly grab your keys once again, at least turning your car on, rolling down your window just an inch.
“Do you need any help, you look pretty stuck,” the nameless man chuckles, his clothing soaked and long hair wet against his shoulders. His voice is deep and breathy, even a little gruff.
“I’m just gonna call a tow service, don’t worry,” you pick up your phone from the passenger seat, seeing the low percentage, swearing under your breath.
“He wouldn’t be here for another three-ish hours, Porco is on a date tonight,” you're puzzled at the sound of new names, you just need a tow truck, but three hours?
“Huh?” You question, now getting a better look at the man. His hair is long, pale brown, along with similarly colored almond eyes. He’s adorned in a flannel button down, folded up to his elbows, also tucked into his dark wash jeans. His hand on top of my car, muscular forearm in my line of vision.
“This is a small town, there’s only one man who would get to you if you called, and he’s on a date. If you want, I can try and look at it for you,” he hums. It’s either sleeping in the car for the whole night, or accepting help.
“I’d appreciate it, is there anything I can do to help you?” Your nerves eat at you, legs shaking, your fingers fidgeting with each other in your lap.
“It’s okay, I’ll just be a second,” he smiles, trudging through the mud to get to the hood of your car. You attempted to look under the hood earlier to see any issues, but to your eyes it just looked like a bunch of metal parts. You even even looked up videos, but alas nothing seemed to fix it.
As the man popped the hood of your car, now disappearing behind it. You use the last percentage of your phone to send a text to your friend notifying her of your location, four hours away. Now going to see family didn’t seem worth it whatsoever.
A sudden knock on the window took you out of your daze.
“You have some faulty spark plugs,” — he takes a deep breath — “I can fix it, but I need to get some parts for the auto shop,” he states, gesturing with his hands.
“I’m sensing there’s gonna be a ‘but’ here,” you chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.
“But the shop is closed.” He finishes, your face immediately falls. Fucking perfect. You let out a groan in frustration, laying your head on the steering wheel, leaving your back slouched.
“‘M sorry, I really can’t fix it without the part,” he sympathizes, quickly moving to close the hood. You have no idea what you’re going to do at this rate, four hours away.
“‘M cookin' up dinner right now, if you want to have a meal, we could figure out a solution for you?” He suggest, placing both his hands on the roof of your car, leaning down looking at you through the window.
“I don’t even know your name,” you cry, frustration fills your body. You're shivering at the cold air coming through your window, hitting your bare arms and chest.
“My name is Jean, it’s getting pretty cold, I don’t think the rain is gonna die down either,” he hums, taking his hands off your car and crossing them over his chest, his shirt drenched in rain. You look over at the man saturated with water, he seems nice enough. Besides, you’re just having dinner and then maybe you can find someone to drive you.
“I’ll come with you,” you grumble, grabbing your bag and all your belongings, also rolling up your window. Slinging it over your shoulder, preparing for the blaring rain you’re gonna face. Jean steps back a few steps letting you swing your car door open, unfolding his arms.
You quickly get out of your car, locking your car behind you. Jean puts his forearms horizontally over his face, attempting to prevent any rain from obstructing his vision. He holds out his hand, gesturing for you to follow him. You attempt your best to walk without your heels getting lodged in mud, the attempt failing.
As Jean treks along, until he turns, seeing you slowly lifting your legs trying to walk. Seeing the mud lodged between the bottom of your shoe and your heel. Without taking a second thought, he walks back to where you are. Once he sees you get your heel out of the mud, he swiftly lifts you up. Placing his large hands on the middle of your back, the other under your knees, you now lodged in the fold of his arms.
“Sorry, you’re just bein’ slow,” he lightly laughs, the heat of his cheeks barely visible. Using his boots, taking big strides through the mud, carrying you with ease. With such an action, usually you’d be furious, but with the rain you gave him some slack. Besides, you didn’t really want to trudge through the mud again.
Jeans boots trumped through the mud, hearing the sound of the mud suctioning onto them every time he put his foot down. Once he finally gets to the sidewalk surrounding his house, he keeps you snuggly in his arms. He finally gets to the part of his roof covering a few feet around his door, then gently setting you down on the cement. He finally sets you down, your heels clacking with the cement.
“I’d take off your shoes out here,” Jean says, crouching down and wiggling his boot off of his foot. As he does, you follow standing, slipping your heels off your feet.
“C’mon in,” Jean opens the door, walking in, standing besides letting you follow. You hum a quick ‘thank you’, feeling the cold hardwood floor on your cold feet. A shiver runs up your spine at the cold floor, contrasting the warm cozy house. His house seems comforting and quite home-y, having a nice rug in the entrance, warm lights, and smelt like cedarwood and bergamot. Even small hints of vegetables, and chicken, waft the air.
“Want some clothes? The chicken and rice soup is done, I can get you a portion while you change?” He asks, as he walks further into his house, you follow close by.
“Uhm— yeah, sure,” you stutter out.
“Stay right here, I’ll go grab your clothes,” he says, walking around the corner, disappearing from your field of vision.
You stayed standing in the hallway, not feeling comfortable walking around Jean’s house yet. Yet, you looked at what you could in your position. Seeing the light gray walls, with some photos framed down the hall. Seeing a photo of Jean with whom you can presume to be with some friends, maybe a girlfriend. They’re all beaming at the camera, the brunette’s arms around him and the other male snuggly. It seems as if they’re at some fair, the girl having some crumbs around her mouth, the other male laughing.
“Sorry if I took too long, I gotcha the clothes,” he comes out from around the corner, seeing you observe the pictures on the wall closely. You whip your head around, seeing Jean no longer in soaking wet clothes, rather in a pair of sweatpants. Just sweatpants. His chest and torso bare, right where your eyes land. He’s sculpted to the god.
“Thank you,” you smile, walking up and grabbing the clothes from his hands. Jean began walking to the kitchen, as you looked around confused. As Jean walks to the kitchen, he doesn’t hear you moving so he turns back to you. You stand awkwardly in the wall way, gently rubbing the clothes in your hands.
“Sorry, the bathroom is the first door on the right,” he states, pointing to the hallway to the right.
You begin walking down the hallway, the cotton soft against your hands, as you reach the door. You turn the golden circular knob to the right, pushing forward, opening the door. Seeing the modestly sized bathroom, the same color as the rest of the house adorns the walls. You walk until you reach the shower mat, rubbing your feet dry on the fuzzy material. Once your feet felt dry, feeling much more comfortable, you began to take off your dress. Once adorn in just your undergarments, you take off your bra, deeming it not worth the gross feeling. Taking a second to think if you should take off your underwear, but what if your wet underwear gave you some sort of infection? After the thought crossed your head you quickly stripped the underwear from your body, unfolding the clothes. There laid a plain pair of gray sweatpants, similar to the ones he's wearing, also seeing the plain white t-shirt.
You quickly put the clothes on, picking up your sopping wet clothes, holding them away from your body to not get your new clothes wet. Without taking another look, you exit the bathroom, shutting the bathroom door behind you.
You turn the corner to the kitchen, seeing Jean, still shirtless, placing bowls on the table.
“Hey, want me to put ‘cha clothes in the dryer?” his country accent coming through, you smile at it, you quip a ‘sure’ before handing him the clothes. He takes the wet fabric all in one hand, turning around going to the laundry room. His sculpted back on display, not even flexing, looking strong and toned.
Jean came back quickly, the sound of his dryer running in the distance. “Wanna eat?” He gestures to the bowls with steam seeping from it, you nod quickly, wanting to delve into the hot liquid.
You both sit down in front of the bowls, sitting on the wooden chairs. Seeing the chicken and rice soup in the bowl, mouth salivating at the sight.
“So, what brings ‘ya all the way out here,” picking up your spoon, he blows on the liquid. You take a deep breath before explaining your reason for being out here.
“Seeing family, my grandparents live out here, I just haven’t had time to get out here in awhile.” You put simply, not going into detail. You follow Jean, blowing on the soup, before putting the spoonful into your mouth. Jean hums at your response, putting the spoon in his mouth, tasting every detail of his soup. “What about you, I mean I’m in your house, what’s some stuff I could know about you?”
He takes a deep breath, setting his spoon in his bowl. “I live here, I work at a farm just down the road, I’ve lived here my whole life. I easily know everyone in the town, it’s close knit.” You continue to eat while nodding, you couldn’t imagine staying in one town your whole life. Your lifes consists of moving so often, you never know how long you’ll be living in a house for.
“So where are ‘ya from then,” he asks, picking his spoon back up and eating. “Four hours away, in Paradis.” Short and to the point, that’s all you needed to say.
“Big city huh,” He smirks looking at you across the table. You quickly nod, before Jean begins to speak again. “So what do ya do for work then?” He attempts to make conversation, even though you’ve barely talked to him.
“I’m a Lawyer,” you simply put it, as if it’s the most mundane job. Jeans eyes widen a bit, a lawyer? This town doesn’t even have a doctor, let alone a lawyer. “Wow, what a career,” he chuckles.
I hum in response, it’s the usual response you got from telling your occupation. Ooo’s and Ahh’s and ‘you must make so much money!’, receiving a small smile from you.
“You okay? You seem like the question threw you off— sorry I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine, I just don’t really enjoy my job. Everyone else thinks it's the coolest thing ever, to some it is, but the question can just aggravate me sometimes.” You cut Jean off, beginning to feel bad. It was a harmless question, lots of people ask you the question, but it doesn’t subside the feeling in your chest.
“Hmm, well then what do you want to be?” He questions. Nobody ever asks that, they always say ‘what but that’s such a cool job!’, ‘what kind of people have you defended?’, or even ‘everybody hates their job, you just live with it.’. Nobody ever asks what you truly wanted deep down as a job. You take a second to ponder the question, never really thinking of the question on your off time.
“As a kid I really wanted to be a dancer, sometimes a firefighter.” A chuckle leaves your lips as you ramble off jobs you dreamed of as a kid, as your spoon swirled in the minimal soup left in your bowl.
“What about you? Do you enjoy your job?”
“Yeah I really do. I get to do something I love, and still be close to my friends, it’s all I could ask for.” At that moment Jean looked idyllic, his small smile, his broad shoulders, everything.
You smile at him, the memory of the photo on the wall pops in your head. Even if you wanted to talk to him in a different way, he seems to already have a girlfriend. Your smile turns into a bleak straight line, as you finish off your soup.
“Has the rain stopped at all?” You question, knowing full well the answer, just by the pelts hitting the glass window.
“Doesn’t seem like it, I think it may be best you just stay here,” he grabs your bowl, putting it inside his, and walking to the sink, setting it down.
“You can take my bed if you want,” you immediately shake your head. You’d feel the guilt hanging over your head for the rest of your life if you took his bed, after bombarding his night.
“I can sleep on the couch, if that’s okay with you?” Jean nods his head, walking back to where you are.
“Let me go grab some bedding, and I can tell you how the tv works and everything.” Jean wanders back towards the bathroom, entering the bathroom at the very end of the hall, probably his bedroom.
You get up from your seat, walking just a few feet to the hallway, looking back at the photos on the wall. Seeing one you must have missed earlier, one of Jean with what you assume is his large friend group. Everyone’s arms entangled together, his over the familiar brunettes still.
“Hey, want me to show you the tv?” Jean asks, seeing you look at the photos on the wall. Not really thinking much of the action.
You nod your head, feet moving fast in his direction. You see him gently laying blankets on top of blankets on his couch. A fluffy looking one under a quilt that looks handmade.
“That quilt is really pretty,” you mumble watching him place pillows on the end of the couch, right by the blankets.
“Thanks, my mom made it for me,” his cheeks tint red. You smile at him, seeing how he’s so connected with his family and obviously caring. “That’s sweet,” you mumble.
“So wanna sit down and I'll tell ya how the tv works?” Jean sits, just beside where he set up your sleeping space. You sit down on the blanket he set up for you, laying your back against the plush back.
You let out a hum as Jean turns on the tv, seeing Netflix still on with “continue watching Lovely Complex?”. Jean quickly taps the buttons on the remote, trying to make the image leave, the tips of his ears turning red.
“Jean, have you been watching Lovely Complex?” You shout smiling at him, seeing one of your favorite shows on the screen.
“No! Someone just turned it one, and forgot to turn it off!” He defends himself, as you smile at him grasping for the remote.
Maybe his girlfriend was the one watching it, how would she feel about this?
You finally get the remote, turning the show on, smiling at the sound of the theme song.
“Let me guess, your girlfriend?” You laugh, nodding your head to the song blaring from the tv. Not even realizing what you just said could lead to unavoidable questions.
“Huh? What girlfriend?” He looks at you puzzled, as your eyes still narrow in on the show. Your smile slowly subsides.
“C’mon Jean, I know I’m like a stranger, but that’s something dumb to lie about.” All your senses now start to overwhelm you, the blanket now feeling extra scratchy, the air feeling hot.
“What are you even talking about,” Jean now turns so his whole body is facing you. You keep your eyes glued to the tv, knowing you’d cry of embarrassment if you faced Jean.
“The girl in the picture Jean, dear fucking lord,” you groan, watching Otani and Risa’s antics on the staticky tv.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Jean says slowly, trying to think of where this is coming from. Looking around his house for any clues to what may have led up to this, or given you that impression.
You smash your face into the pillow Jean laid out for you and let out a deep groan. Moving your legs, so now they’re also on the couch, you laying in a straight line. You feel as if you could die of embarrassment, your face is hot, your heart is racing.
“Are you talking about Sasha?” You scoff at the question. “Jean I don’t know who the fuck Sasha is,” your words muffled by the pillow. You feel as if you could cry, the embarrassment eating you up.
“Sasha, the brunette in the photo in the hall, the photos you were starin’ at?” You squirm at the depiction of the girl, your knees coming in on your stomach as your face stays in the pillow. You slowly nod your head on the pillow, guilt and shame eating you up. Now knowing why you got so defensive over the photo in the first place.
“Sasha is just my friend, she’s engaged to the chef in town, his name is Niccolo. Trust me, I see her as more of a sister then I ever could a girlfriend.” You feel a dip by your head, suddenly feeling Jeans hands rubbing your scalp in a soothing motion. You turn your head on the side, looking at Jean’s eyes glued on you, his face unreadable.
You let out a hum hoping he’ll just leave the situation alone, you take your knee’s out from under you, now laying flat on your stomach. You turn your eye’s back to the show, diverting your focus. Jean begin’s to remove his hand from your scalp, but you quickly grasp his wrist without a word and put it back on your head.
“Why’d you assume she was my girlfriend,” Jean mumbles, looking at you, the colors from the tv reflecting against your face. You don’t change anything, you keep your eyes on the tv, not wanting to answer such an embarrassing question.
“Were ‘ya jealous?” He smirks, as you let out a whine. “No Jean,” you state.
“Then why were ‘ya so defensive?” Jean asks, taking his hand off your head and folding his arms over his bare chest. You whine at the loss of touch and try to grab his hand, but he doesn't budge.
“No head massages until you tell me,” he says looking at your sad face. “But Jean—” you drag out his name, shaking his wrist.
“Not gonna change my mind hun, confess.” You let out a huff, “I don’t know! I was just disappointed I guess, you're very comforting and the thought of not being able to talk to you anymore made me sad.”
Your confession rings in Jean’s ears, did that mean what he thinks it means?
“I was watching the show earlier-“ your head whips around to Jean. “Wanna watch it with me?” He asks, putting his hand back on your head, gently massaging the crown of your head.
You nod your head, Jean moving his eyes to the tv. You look over at Jean, at the sight of his face glued to the tv, you wiggle upwards, placing your head on Jean’s thigh. Rubbing your head slightly on the soft material covering his thigh.
Jean’s eyes gravite to your head on his thigh, seeing your focus on the tv, and your alluring side profile.
You keep your eyes on the tv, laughing at the funny bits. Suddenly feeling Jeans hand stopping it’s motion, still residing on your head. Now feeling Jean's presence even closer than before.
“Can I kiss you?” Jean whispers against the shell of your ear, just a hair away from his lips touching your ear.
You turn on your back, looking into Jean's eyes. Quickly nodding, putting your hands on the sides of his face, pulling him down to you.
Jean immediately captures you, his lips a bit chapted, but nothing his tongue couldn’t fix. You bite down onto his bottom lip ever so slightly, his tongue hitting yours. You hum and moan into the kiss, Jean lifting his body from the couch. You begin to whine as Jean breaks away from the kiss standing up, leaving you on the couch still.
Until he kneels on the couch, one leg on your side, the other in between your legs. Your whine gets muffled by Jean’s lips back on yours, with the same heat as before.
“Can I take this off of you,” you hum into the kiss, as Jean’s hands dance along the lace bottom of your dress. He begins to tug on the fabric, as you arch your back trying to make the action easier. He gets your dress off with ease, balling the dress up in his hands and throwing it besides the couch.
He breaks the kiss, halting his movements for a moment to take you in. Lacey bra and underwear adorn your skin, his eyes linger, savoring your beauty. Seeing you panting from the kiss, your hands grabbing at the top of his sweatpants.
“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” and you suddenly feel as if your heart is melting.
Jean leans back in to kiss you, first kissing the corner of your mouth, beginning to trail down your jaw. You hastily grab the top of his sweats tugging at them a bit, as if to ask if it’s alright to take them off. Jean grabs them quickly, pulling them off, putting them besides your dress. Leaving him in his black boxers, the print off his cock evident in them.
You groan at the sight, as Jeans mouth now sits on the top of your breast. His hands graze your stomach, resting just under your bra, before he grabs the cups pulling them down. His light kisses now on your nipple, before he wraps around it gently. Pleasure shoots through your body like fireworks, from your chest all the way to your core, making you throb. By instinct your thighs attempt to close, only to meet Jean's leg preventing it.
At the feeling of your thighs Jean drags his arms down your body, resting on your hips. Followed by his lips leaving your nipple, and his whole body moving down. Jean is now at the end of the couch, which would be uncomfortable in most situations, but with you it feels like heaven.
“Can I take these off?” Jean asks, toying with the sides of your underwear, before letting it snap onto your hips.
With a light yelp, you quickly nod your head, trying to lift your hips. Only to have Jean put his hand under your lower back, using his other hand to quickly take the underwear off. Your eyes fall on Jean as he places a light kiss on your mound, his hands rubbing up and down the plush of your thighs. His eyes suddenly lift up to you, low-lidded, your face feels hot and the rush in your body is unexplainable.
Both of your hands instinctively go to the back of Jean’s light brown locks, gripping his hair like your life depended on it. You let out a high pitched moan, trying your best to not crush Jean with your thighs.
Your thighs shake as you draw in a deep breath. “Jean.”
At the sound of his name and the movement on your body, Jean places his forearm on your lower stomach, pressing you down. His touch is electrifying as you feel him lightly massage your stomach, and his tongue dances along your clit. The knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter as he keeps his pace. His tongue flicked quickly, and his pressure stays perfect and consistent. As you feel the gradual knot in your stomach, begin to break by a threat, suddenly unraveling all at once. Your neck arching, your stomach coming in on itself, your hand letting go of Jean’s hair.
You're breathing deep, as you stare deliriously at the ceiling, taking in everything.
“You okay there?” Jean asks, massaging your thighs, looking up at your flushed fucked out face.
“Mmm, if your oral is that good I can only imagine how good you are at sex,” you hum, grabbing the band of his boxers, pulling them down. You now face him with his hardened cock, as you feel your mouth go dry.
“Do you have a condom?” You say, looking up at Jean through lidded eyes. Jean quickly nods, escaping to his room for a brief moment, before coming back to the couch where you lay with your thighs still spread.
You sit up, watching Jean ripping the foil, sliding the condom on with ease. When his eyes see that you’re staring at his action, his lips morph into a smirk as he strokes his condom covered shaft, setting a knee on the couch. You slide up the couch a bit, making more room for Jean, as he sits eyes on you.
“How ‘bout this?” Jean asks, as he turns you on your side, lifting one of your legs up, pushing it into your side. You look down at his throbbing cock before quickly nodding at the position, biting your lip at the thought of what’s about to happen.
“You sure?” you smile at Jean, being smitten with how sweet he is. “Yes Jean, I promise.”
Jean lines himself up with your entrance, pushing your leg up, using his other hand to grip your jaw, bringing you into a kiss. Your fingers twist the quilt under you as you feel his cock sink into you, stretching you, only stopping when your hips are flushed with his. Jean keeps his lips encapsulated with yours, as you moan into his kiss.
Jean breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you two still. His fingertips pressing on your thighs as he draws his hips back. His thrust are fairly slow, still managing to make you feel whipped as you watch his cock enter and leave your body.
“Harder,” you groan, his pace too slow, making you desperate beyond belief. It feels so good, but you crave more. His hips snap back into you, the thrust almost driving you up the couch.
“This what ‘ya want?” He questions cockily, panting, as his hips snap at a fast pace, hitting you deeper. You know he only asked to prove a point, but you nod your head lazily. He moves his grip on your jaw, now having his hand on your chin, pulling himself down to your lips. The kiss was brief, as he now puts his thumb inside your mouth, as he keeps his eyes narrowed in on you. Your lips closing on Jean’s thumb, sucking on it ever so slightly, a sultry look on your face.
Jean bites his lip at the look on your face, his hips getting to an insatiable pace. Your lips suddenly release his thumb as you gasp, a subtle sting shot straight to your core. Jean’s hips suddenly come to a halt for a second, before lazily going in and out a few times, taking his cock now leaving your body. A wordless gasp spilling from your mouth, as Jean pants, sweat drips down his temples, and sweat gathers on your hairline.
You look up at Jean, seeing the intense look painted on his face, making your heart squeeze. Jean’s chest burns, as he looks at your hazy eyes. Jean removes the condom, quickly going off to his bedroom. Still in your daze, your legs feeling numb, your thighs come together, beginning to feel sticky.
Jean comes back, the condom now gone. “Jean do you have something I could use to clean myself up,” you ask, your face going neon as you look down at your fingers laying on the quilt. You get no response, as you suddenly feel a hand wiggling its way under your back, the other going under your knees. You suddenly whip your head up, to see Jean carrying you.
“Jean what are you—”
“You really think I’d have sex with you, then leave you to sleep on the couch,” Jean asks, suddenly feeling Jean’s forearm twist, hearing the sound of a creaking door. “Here, let me go get a rag real quick.”
He lays you on the middle of his bed, you lay on his bed on your elbows, with your legs slightly spread, to avoid your thighs sticking. As Jean comes back with a damp rag, kneeling on his bed, rubbing along your fold. Once he finishes, he goes and sets the rag in the hamper in the corner of his bathroom. Coming back to seeing you moving to the top of the bed.
“Make yourself comfy,” Jean says, flipping up his bedding, leaving his naked self against the soft bedding. You follow in suit, making yourself comfortable under the bedding, turning to face Jean.
“I think your car was meant to break down,” your face contorts into a puzzled look. As you see, panic suddenly starts to come on Jean’s face. “No! I mean, I think meeting you was fate? I don’t really know how fate works, but you're the first thing I think of.”
You stare at Jean, a wide grin, and tears begin to blur your vision. “Wait! Don’t cry ‘m sorry I didn’t—” you wipe your eyes, “No Jean, you’re just super sweet, and I just really appreciate it.”
Jean smiles at your reaction, seeing your eyes no longer being clouded with tears. He opens up his arms, as you wiggle yourself into his grip, grabbing his hands, trapping yourself inside. “Thank you Jean,” you mumble against his chest, as he rubs his hands up your back, you doing the same for him. As you both lull yourself to sleep, feeling the warm embrace and lush blankets under you.
a/n: This idea has been fresh in my head for SO LONG AND IT’S FINALLY DONE AHHHH. FARMER JEAN IS JUST UGGHHSHXIS
#farmer Jean <33333#Jean#jean kirstein x reader#Jean kirstein#jean x reader#jean snk#jean x you#jean smut#jean kirstein smut#jean kirstein imagine#jean fluff#jean angst#AOT fluff#AOT angst#AOT smut#snk smut#snk fluff#snk angst
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minahal kita higit pa sa sarili ko, Diyos ko
Jean x reader
Warnings: angst
A/N: the title was from a Filipino song i heard and aaaaaa i dont understand the words much but its making me sad:')
🍓as always i don't know much English so if something is wrong correct me 🍓
"I understand.." the only thing you spilled in your mouth
Jean just stand there looking down at you, guilty
How dare he, you love him more than anything but he ended up caughting someone's eye's
You've been together for 20 years and this is how he pay you
"I'm sorry"..." I know"
"(name) i-" he stopped and close his mouth when your about to speak he talks again
"(name) i know what you're thinking, that i didn't loved you, (name) your the one and only-"
" until i wasn't?"
"please let me finish.." you stayed silent there
"your the one and only in my life but...i-i just don't know ok when you've been busy in your work i feel like you aren't there anymore"
Now full of anger how the hell did he that to you before he even speak again you slam your palm on the table between him and you
"because i WAS working hard jean while you..you. You were just there i tried everything jean I've been trying. Remember that anniversary night when i was late i had to beg my manager to let me off early so i can go out with you and that's why the other day i was there all night because i have to cut my schedule that day, see while you're there whoring with some woman who will fuck other guy!"
"enough!" Now his the one who slam the table
"just stop.."
"stop what? Telling the truth? Jean i gave you my whole life... Minahal kita higit pa sa sarili ko...Diyos ko ( I loved you more than myself...dear lord) "
He opened his mouth but no words escape
"you can fucking leave now jean, i dont care where you go, or you i don't care about you jean so leave now, you are not staying here after getting the dick with somebody else than your wife"
He watches as you let the ring fall off your finger and threw it on his face
"i dont care if you sell the shit, and I don't care how expensive that is.. tomorrow were getting a divorced paper"
He took the bags and his hat and nodded at you
" goodbye ( name)"
he gave you a sad smile. But you gave him a bitter frown
"goodbye jean"
Masterlist | about me | rules
I'm learning Tagalog and I really wanna listen to Ben&Ben songs!
BTW thank you for reading hope you have a good day/night
#attack on titan#attack on titan x reader#aot#jean kirstein#jean x reader#jean krischtein#jean kirschtein x reader#jean kirschtien#jean Kirsten angst#jean angst#angst#fem reader
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“I’m Coming…”
Hearing Jean’s last words makes you remember someone you knew a long time ago…
WARNINGS: angst, death, hurt (no comfort?), domesticated Jean Kirstein, Jean is a bisexual if you squint really fucking hard, the title is not kinky.
Word Count: 944
Masterlist
AOT Masterlist
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This was it…
Jean Kirstein was on his last legs. The same Jean Kirstein who always had something witty to quickly reply with when someone said something ridiculous. The same Jean Kirstein who had gradually become a much better person as the years passed by, who had finally become comfortable in his own skin. The same Jean Kirstein that always had an effective plan for everything.
Your Jean Kirstein was nearly dead. You wished you could do something about it, but it was out of your hands. You needed to let nature take its course.
You sat by his side the entire time. It was a much longer process than you anticipated. Your two grandchildren stayed with the two of you nearly the whole time. Your own children were present as well, though they had their own things to do around the house.
It was late into the evening. While Jean laid in bed and you sat beside him in your chair, your three children conversed. They recounted old memories in his last moments, answering any questions your grandchildren had.
It finally happened when the room was silent, grandchildren quietly reading or drawing and your own watching their father with sad eyes.
You were holding his hand. Tears had already started falling because you knew, you knew these were his last breaths. You knew that after today there would be no more of his witty remarks, his beautiful laugh. No more smudged graphite drawings of long forgotten faces scattered around the house. No more of him.
He squeezed your hand once, which you returned. You brought a hand to cover your mouth and let out a silent sob.
Immediately the rest of your family had come into the room and pulled their chairs closer to his bed, tears filling their eyes as they quietly spoke to him, wishing him well in wherever one went after death.
He had a slight smile on his face, and he brought your hand to his lips to
leave a soft kiss on your fingertips. “I love you,” he said softly.
You nodded, bringing your head down to connect your intwined hands with your forehead. “I love you, too.”
He smiled contently, blinking slowly before he looked up at the ceiling. “I’m coming, Marco…”
Those were his last words. His final breath left you a sobbing mess, so overridden with grief that your entire body shook. You swear your heart shattered into trillions of pieces, and you had just lost the second half of your soul to death’s cruel, cold hands.
You recalled his final words, smiling through the pain at them because he remembered his best friend in his final moments.
You had thought less and less about Marco as the years passed, coming to terms with his death after a while and accepting it. He was taken too soon, and while it left you sobbing for months, you knew you needed to move on.
Jean, however, thought about Marco almost daily. You would sometimes catch him silently talking to himself in a room, speaking aloud to update Marco on life’s happenings. You’d sometimes see a face that resembled the freckled boy’s among the collections of sketches in his study.
It was an arrow to the heart. Both of your best friends were now dead. The loves of your lives gone, and there was almost nothing left for you to live for…
Almost…
“Gramma?” It was your youngest grandchild. She couldn’t pronounce D sounds, so she always skipped over them. She gently tugged at your skirt, and you looked down at her with wet cheeks. Quietly, she asked, “Who’s Marco?”
The room went quiet again. No one else said anything, but you knew they had that same question.
You and Jean never shared much about the time before you had children. Your time as soldiers was tragic and bloody and neither of you felt particularly eager to relive it. On the rare occasion that you did, you always made sure it was something more lighthearted. The most they knew about your lives before they were born is that you and Jean were soldiers of Eldia, who bravely fought to protect the world from Eren Yeager.
They didn’t know anything.
They didn’t know about life inside the walls—before it was made know that there were entire countries out in the world.
They didn’t know about your time as cadets and the rigorous training that made you into brave soldiers.
They didn’t know about the Titans that once made Eldians live in fear.
They knew nothing about the betrayal of Reiner, Annie, and Bertholdt, and how devastated everyone became when they learned that their trusted comrades were foreign enemies.
And they knew nothing about Jean’s other half Marco, who died a terrible death far too soon…
You lifted your granddaughter onto your lap, taking a shaky breath in. “Give me a moment, okay?” She nodded as you wiped your eyes, still letting out silent cries. “I promise to tell you everything.”
And when you finally spoke they listened. Your family listened so intently. You told them about your time as cadets, about when you were part of the Survey Corps. The discovery of Eren’s Titan abilities and Marley and the Rumbling and Ymir and everything you could think of and remember. The faces may have faded and the colors may have gone dull and the memories may not have been as sharp as they needed to be, but you remember the way you felt as vividly as if it was yesterday.
And of course, you told them about the second love of your life Marco Bott.
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Hope y’all enjoyed
<3 Izzy
#izzy’s imagines ❀#attack on titan#aot#jean kirschtein x you#jean kirschtein imagine#jean kirstein#jean kirschstein#jean kirsten x reader#jean aot#marco aot#marco x jean#marco x reader#marco bott x reader x jean#jean angst
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for everything I know you wanted
my submission for the nothing breaks like a heart collab (courtesy of @tojiphilia and @arozaur, thanks for doing this <3)—this was a bit of a challenge! jean is very much my comfort character and i couldn't bear to leave it without a ~little~ bit of resolution, but the angst is here to party. wc: 3.2k cw: mentions of drinking, jean and reader are Big Sad, aftermath of a break up
It'd been a year.
A year since Jean forced himself to walk away from you—forced himself to look away from the expression on your face that had haunted his sleep every night since then. He remembered very little of what came after. His body had propelled him through the following 365 days that, to his mind, blended together in the same insignificant, aching dream that he couldn't quite wake up from. He felt like a zombie— looked like it, too, if Connie and Sasha's exchanged glances of concern were anything to go by. He didn't bother to defend himself. There was nothing to say.
His alarm—one in a series of several he'd taken to setting, a new bad habit he picked up—blared next to him for long enough that it became impossible to ignore. He heaved himself up from his mattress and surveyed the room. You'd be disgusted with him—there was no longer a discernable path on the floor leading to an exit. He'd done it on purpose—he had found your belongings among his own one too many times, and his solution was to make it so he could never find anything, which actually felt better, if he didn't look at the mess for too long. He didn't dare let Connie and Sasha see it. Not that they hadn't been imagining something similar.
He pulled himself to a standing position, groaning a bit at the movement. He didn't bother changing, didn't bother risking a glance in the mirror—he just stepped clumsily through the piles until his palms met the wood of the door. He rested his forehead against it for a beat, trying to rouse up the courage to face the company he knew he'd have in the living room when he opened it. It didn't work—it never did. They'd see right through him anyway.
"Hey, man," Connie greeted him from the couch, looking up from the video game he'd been playing with Sasha. Jean didn't bother asking how they'd gotten in—they'd been accomplishing soft break ins for the better part of the last year. He started leaving the door unlocked—it was easier that way. Sasha smiled at him gently, like she was afraid that anything more would break him. She was probably right. She held out a cup of coffee as an offering.
"Hey," Jean grunted out, taking the cup from her and leaning against the couch, watching over their shoulders.
"Any plans for the day?" Connie asked, and Jean wanted to scoff. Connie knew the answer already—a resounding no. He'd pretend anyway, for the sake of the delicate dance they all insisted on performing.
"Might go down to Green's, watch the game," he answered, and it was a half life. The bar down the street had been a small reprieve on the nights it'd gotten a little too hard to breathe around his grief. But those were most of them, and he knew to call it anything but a crutch would be a lie. Connie and Sasha looked at each other briefly, and Jean started to feel like a fox caught in a trap. Tired, scared, and angry at the inevitable. Poised to lash out in vain. It was only a matter of time.
"Listen, Jean—"
"Maybe we could all go!" Sasha exclaimed, loud and nervous, shooting a pointed glare at Connie, "that could be fun. We haven't all gone out in a while, it'll be like old—"
"No," Jean cut her off, and it was silent, then. He read the barely-concealed, startled expressions on both of their faces and tried to backtrack. "I mean, I appreciate it, but I think I'll go alone. Next time, yeah?"
They hesitated, glancing at each other again. Sasha smiled, and it was strained. "Sure," she said, but her eyes betrayed her, "whatever you want to do."
He moved through the rest of the day on autopilot and barely registered when Connie and Sasha saw themselves out. He realized it was 8 o'clock then, and he tried not to think about where the last 12 hours had gone as he pulled himself together just enough to pull one of his last remaining clean T-shirts and a stray pair of jeans on. He studied himself in the mirror for only the amount of time it took to confirm that he looked enough like a human being to be in public.
The air was cool, and he could admit that it was pleasant against his skin. At least it was, until it reminded him of you, as most things did. The reel in his mind replayed visions of you, the memories he kept tucked away for safekeeping—you stumbling a bit in front of him on the way home from the bar, his jacket half on your body and a declaration of love on your lips, aimed to gore him right through the heart. And you never missed—not even at the end.
He knew he hadn't been able to give you what you needed from him. He didn't miss your family's disapproving glances or under-handed jabs when you'd continuously shown up without a ring on your finger or a big announcement of a plan for the future to gush over at get-togethers. You'd been together for years, and it wasn't as if he'd never thought about it—it wasn't that he didn't fantasize about coming home to you everyday, or pressing kisses to the band wrapped around your finger, or hauling up a tiny human that looked like the best parts of both of you over his shoulders. He certainly had. But he was selfish, and he was too comfortable with the way you were together to interrupt it for something bigger. So he cut you loose, and had regretted it everyday since.
He went no contact with you after that, and there'd been nothing else in his life that had ever made him feel like a bigger coward. He couldn't read your messages, couldn't answer your calls, couldn't answer the door when you'd stood on the other side of it. There was no relief when you stopped calling, stopped texting, stopped knocking—there was just a void. It started in his chest and grew every day, like a poison that crept through his veins and rotted his soft tissue. He imagined the pain was similar.
He walked through the door of the bar, making a bee-line for the stool against the wall at the counter. He kept his head down—it was seldom that he saw anyone he knew here, but he did his best to lower the chances. He didn't need company to his own misery—even in his grief, he knew it was best to keep the fated lovers apart.
He ordered the cheapest beer on the menu and nursed it there in his corner, eyes straight ahead. The game was playing on the TV on the wall, but he didn't have the energy to watch. He just sipped and let the alcohol warm his insides until his body was weighted and numb. One less thing for him to feel.
He'd barely registered a presence next to him until the voice it was attached to injected itself directly into his nervous system.
"Whiskey neat, please."
He was frozen, bottle half-raised to his lips. It was several seconds before he could get himself to turn, knowing exactly who he'd find. And when he did, he wished he had never.
"Hi," you breathed, reflecting his own shock back at him.
It was all he could do to blink back at you, not quite understanding how you were there and real and still so heartbreakingly beautiful, standing next to him. His mind screamed at him to say something, to say anything, because he saw the beginnings of an emotion he was too familiar with on your face at his extended silence and he couldn't bear to relive that—
"Your hair," it came out strangled and he masked the grimace as best as he could, "it's longer."
The disappointment on your face punched him in the gut.
"Yeah, Jean," you sighed, looking down at your drink with a ghost of a smile that he never wanted to see again, "a lot changes in a year."
You both sat in silence then, you with your long hair and he in his guilt that ate him alive behind his bottle.
"How are you?" you asked, and he wondered if you really wanted to know.
"'M doing fine," a lie. You hummed, and he didn't know if it was out of doubt or in agreement. "How are you?"
There was a pause. "I'm drinking liquor on a Wednesday night by myself."
He felt sick at the hope that blossomed in his chest. His heart told him there was a chance you felt as he did—stuck in your grief, drowning it every night. But then he was just guilty, because if you did, then he put you there. So he stayed silent, eyes trained on the bottle in his hands.
"Can I ask you something?"
It startled him a little, but he nodded anyway.
"Why wouldn't you answer me?"
He looked at you then, and he saw it—saw the way you'd been mourning him, alone and angry and so tired. You were closed off to him but your eyes gave you away—they always had. What your body had locked away your eyes could never, and he winced, because it felt invasive—he was the cause of it, and here he was, looking too deeply into you. He wanted to apologize, and he wanted to tear himself open and pull out all of his pain and watch you cradle it in the palms of your hands. Just so you could see that he had tried to do right by you. So you could see how your ghost clung to his back and he hadn't even asked you to let go.
"Do you want to take a walk with me?" he asked after a moment of silence, and to his amazement, you nodded. You threw the rest of your drink back, face unchanged as you set the glass down on the bar. He felt the bile rise up in his throat at that, because you'd never been able to stand the burn of liquor before. But you'd told him things had changed. He was scared to know the ways in which they had.
It was dark out now, and considerably colder. You were silent as you walked, and he listened to the click of your boots against the pavement. You carried yourself differently, he noticed—there was a cold confidence to the straightness of your spine, and it made his heart ache. The hardness on your face felt so foreign. He took a deep breath.
"I thought it would be better," he started slowly, and it was as strained as it was cautious, "if I left you alone."
You stopped in your tracks at that, turning to look at him with such anger and such hurt that he fought the instinct to recoil.
"You thought...it would be better." You ground out, testing the words in your mouth, like you weren't sure if you wanted to spit them back at him. He nodded. You let out an incredulous laugh.
"So after years of being together, after years of loving you, you thought it would be better for me if you just up and left. Just like that."
He didn't have anything to say to that. He knew it was illogical, and cowardly at best. And at worst, well—he didn't have to ask to know what it was.
"Okay," you breathed, "so let me ask you this: was I a fucking joke to you?"
His eyes widened at that, because no, nothing about this, or you, was ever a joke to him—there was nothing funny about the way he'd been barely alive for the last year, sleeping only when he had to, because he couldn't stand to see you when he closed his eyes. Nothing funny about how the last pieces of him had bled out from his body, or how he watched them drip down the drain from a distance, wondering if it was better wherever they were going. Better than being tethered to him where he was.
"I mean, did you just get bored? Was I not enough for you?"
And every word broke him, because he couldn't stand how wrong you were, and he couldn't stand that you'd carried this version of your break up around with you for the last year. Couldn't stand that it was him who had made you do it.
"No, wait—"
"Was it really that easy? To just toss me aside like trash?"
"Please, let me—"
"Let you what? Tell me: what could've possibly been so bad that the best option was to leave me like that?"
It was startling, the rage that radiated off you in waves— or it would've been, had he not known the way he deserved every bit of your fury. He wondered if this had been a mistake—if it would've been better to end the conversation at the bar and walk away from you again. To choose not to hurt you like this. But he was a weak man, and he'd hurt you again, now. The knot in his throat left barely any room for an explanation, but he was resolute to try.
"I couldn't give you what you needed," he told you, and it was barely a whisper. For the first time, he couldn't read the expression on your face.
"What?"
"I couldn't—" he took a deep breath, and it shuddered, "give you the things you wanted. When we went home, I know it upset you—all those questions about marriage and kids. I didn't have an answer for 'em," he paused, looking down at his shoes, "I wanted you to be able to have the life that you deserved."
He couldn't look at you then, and the silence was deafening. He braced for something, for anything, but his head still snapped up when he heard the indignant laugh fall out of your mouth.
"Are you kidding me?"
He scanned your eyes, suddenly incredibly unsure how to proceed. He opted for silence.
"So you thought that I wanted marriage and kids, and that's why you left?"
He winced at the simplified version, like it hadn't been the hardest decision he'd ever made. But you were right, and he nodded.
"Jesus fucking Christ," you laughed, and it was pained. You tipped your head back, letting out a deep sigh. Then your eyes were back on him, and the shame told him to look away, but he couldn't.
"Jean, did you ever ask me what I wanted?"
And his heart dropped, because no, he hadn't. His silence was all the answer you needed.
"I wasn't upset, I was uncomfortable—uncomfortable, because I was also not ready for the things they were asking of us."
He was frozen. Helplessly, uselessly frozen.
"I knew—at least, I thought I knew—that I would marry you someday," you kept going, kept shredding his insides, "but that was so far removed from any list of priorities I had." You looked at him, and looked away.
"I just wanted you," you said quietly, and it shattered the last piece of him that had been holding on, "I was happy. I had what I'd needed."
He felt himself start to shake and he kept his eyes on the ground, because if he looked up, he would lose everything. Every bit of composure he'd been holding onto—the reasoning he'd clung to to justify the ways he'd hurt you—all of it was as flimsy as he was, and it frayed at the seams as his fingers grasped at it. The words tore up his throat before he could stop them—before he could think about the damage they would surely cause.
"Haven't been doing well," and it was the understatement of the century. He hoped you heard what he wanted to say. I love you. You've been haunting me. I know I deserve it. Your face pinched for a fraction of a second, and then it was blank again.
"Yeah," you scoffed, "me either."
The breeze kicked up and you shivered, and out of muscle memory he shrugged off his jacket, reaching over to drape it over your shoulders. He'd only realized what he'd done when he heard your sharp inhale.
"Oh," he said, reaching back for it, "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking—"
"No," you gasped out, stepping out of his reach and pulling the jacket into you, "don't."
He paused in his movement when he realized what was happening— you were buckling under the weight of this, too, and he didn't know whether to push forward to help you lift it, or take it away from you entirely, freeing you from this—from him. He thought he’d be an idiot to decide that for you, though, so he stayed where he was, caught in the most devastating stalemate as he waited for your next move. You blinked rapidly, looking away from him as you pulled the jacket closer still.
"Did you love me?" you asked, and the wave of devastation that washed over him nearly did him in. He was irate that he'd ever made you question his love for you. He wanted to knock himself out. He wanted to do worse than that. Instead, he took in a shuddering breath, and took a small step toward you.
"I love you more than you will ever know."
Wide, watery eyes met his, and he fought the urge to reach out and pull you to him. His heart knocked against his chest at the tentative step you took forward.
"Don't," you told him, and it was broken, "don't say that if you don't—"
"I mean it."
Your eyes searched his face for a minute more, and then another, and he braced himself for the exit you'd sure be making. He wouldn't have blamed you. He was being cruel—crueler than he had ever been, and it was far too late. He couldn't undo the damage he'd caused.
There was nothing that could've prepared him for the way your body collided with his.
Instinctively, his arms wrapped around you, fingers weaving themselves in the hair at the back of your head. His eyes burned as he heard the way you choked out a sob into the fabric of his shirt. Jacket long forgotten on the ground behind you, you grabbed for him like he was a lifeline, and he held you tighter.
"M'sorry," Jean gasped out, pressing kisses to the top of your head, "I'm so sorry."
You let out a whimper that tore him apart. He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid—to have honestly felt that a life without you was one he could stomach, even if he thought it was for the best. He told you exactly that, whispered into your skin between kisses to your hairline as you cried. You both stood there in the street and he held you to him, rocking you gently. When the sobs that racked through your body subsided, you were silent save for the staggering breaths you took in, and you rested your forehead against his collarbone, hands fisted in his shirt. You breathed him in for the first time in a year, and your eyes burned again.
"I don't want to do this anymore, Jean," you whispered, and his arms tightened around you.
"What do you want?"
"You."
His heart constricted at the way you didn't have to think about it. It was the same answer he’d thought to himself everyday for the last year. That one word was the thing that pulled him over the edge of the cliff he’d been climbing. He tilted his head back, and felt the tears spill over. He felt the serrated edges of the rocks at the bottom pierce him from every angle.
"You have me," he croaked out, "you always will."
this fic belongs to me (@b-writes-things). i do not allow anyone to repost, edit, or reproduce this work.
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true norwegian black metal
☞ jean kirstein x fem reader [ one-shot word count: 1.1k]
☞ sfw, angst angst angst, canon-verse
☞ plot: the pain that comes with jean not loving you back always seems worth it, even when it really isn't.
☞ inspired by true norwegian black metal by sprain
☞ true norwegian black metal
jean does not love you.
“come in,” he says to you after he swings open the door and you take a moment too long to register that he is looking at you. you follow after him carefully, like every step you take into his house is sending you deeper into the unrequitedness of it all (like you haven’t been here before. like you haven’t memorised the wood grain in his floor boards).
you wish you could say it is for the kind of reasons that can somewhat ease the pain of the cracking in your heart and the discord in your head. that he is still too immature, that he does not know what love is, that he is not ready to love someone. but it’s not the case, and it will never be the case.
“take off your shoes,” jean suggests welcomingly. he does this each time you’re over, and you don’t know why you always need to be told at this point. maybe you are hanging onto any sentiment of fondness from him. maybe you are too busy watching him.
you follow him into his kitchen and watch him routinely grab the kettle.
he talks of the 104th sometimes. he talks of this new life of his, he talks of what he did in the morning and what he wants to do for the next. in darker moments he speaks of titans and war, and you think it is more to himself than to you.
and sometimes he speaks of mikasa and your head hurts when you notice the unmistakeable regret in his eyes when her name softly rolls off his tongue. you have known him for years, yet every time you see him he makes you feel something new (something worse).
“what about you? what’s going on with you?” jean inquires between sips of tea. you have nothing to say. there is something so pathetic about how you are so willing to sit and be talked at by him, with nothing of your own to comment or share. and there is something so pathetic about how you don’t really care.
“nothing, really. same old,” you say. and jean nods. it’s not that you don’t want to tell him about your life, or that there is nothing to say. but the thought of baring yourself to him and him still not loving you or even considering you is one you know will be the final straw. you are not quite ready to be fully broken down yet.
this time he is slightly off (not that he will ever be fully focused and enamoured in you and what you have to say). he seems sad (you know for certain he is, at this point the guessing and analysing is just a way for you to convince yourself that you are not as hopelessly in love with him as you really are. you are never truly convinced).
he talks and you talk and the sun sets and it's time to go, and you are already mentally preparing yourself for the way you are about to rip yourself into bits over him when you get home. and for the way the knowledge that he is just going to go to bed, another day done, and peacefully fall asleep is going to hurt you.
you open the door to leave, and you choke on your own goodbyes when he grabs your wrist from behind you. when you turn around his eyes are frantically scanning yours, like he’s looking for something. you know he’s never going to find it but you stand there watching him anyway.
(jean does not love you.)
you pull him into your embrace and he immediately sinks into it. you don’t know what is going on with him, but you know there is something. you know he is not going to say it. and you know he is going to use you to try get over it. and you know you’re going to let him.
(jean does not love you.)
when you pull away, he looks at you longingly. longing for someone else, for something else. the disappointment in his eyes is worse than the sadness, and you know he is silently wishing that you were more than just the placeholder you are for him now.
he kisses you and it is empty. there is no rush of relief, no tension broken, no smile against your mouth and no hand on his jaw. you stand and let him take what he wants from you, because you have accepted that this is all you are ever going to get from him.
(jean does not love you.)
“see you again soon,” he says after pause when you both pull away. he can’t even look you in the eye. maybe that’s for the best. you nod at him and turn your back.
jean does not love you. and jean does not know how even when he stands in front of you, even when he speaks to you, you miss him.
you miss him so much that it hurts your chest and your throat. it feels as if you are being scraped raw, like your insides are drying up and being carved out, like they are slowly falling into whatever hollowness has made its home in your body. it is a sinking feeling, it is a flooding feeling, you are choked up and you are empty.
you miss him so much it feels as if it is all you are made for. you miss him so much that it is hard to remember a time before you did. you miss him so much that all you can do is hope that this never stops, and that the debris and damaged goods he has rendered you into is a state that you will forever remain in because it is the only remnant of him you will ever have. it feels as if you are sick. you are diseased.
he will never kiss you again, and even though you are so painfully aware that you are not what he is looking for and he is simply lonely and lamenting over lost time with another, you wish he would. are you not even enough to be used more than once? will he not try again? perhaps he wasn’t looking hard enough? perhaps something has changed in you between then and now? (you know nothing has changed. but you are probably going to keep holding on to him forever).
and the worst part is that you still see him.
the worst part is that he still opens his door and smiles at you distantly.
“come in,” he says.
you take off your shoes.
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#jean x reader#jean kirstein x reader#jean kirschtein x reader#aot x reader#aot fic#jean fic#jean angst#jean kirstein angst#aot angst#snk x reader#snk fic#snk angst
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KaeJean Angst Masterlist…
Constructed by yours truly because this ship is so underrated and I’ve already read all the good and bad ones out on AO3 (which is the only platform I found more than 2 sucky fics on) I just had to list out all the good ones.
These aren’t ordered in any specific order.
And yes, all of these are angst fics in some way or another. I will put together a fluff one in the future. Angst first because angst is the best!
Also, unless otherwise specified, they do not exceed 5 chapters.
1. Fur Mondstadt, immerdar
Description: 5 times Kaeya looks at Jean when it matters and one time he says something that does.
Warnings: Major Character Death
Comments: In my opinion, 5+1s are one of the most interesting formats of fanfics out there. Unfortunately, this is the only one I found for KaeJean. Fortunately, it is wonderfully written. Super angsty as it dwells on Kaeya’s past, but also with just enough fluff layered underneath to make the pain bittersweet.
2. and i only had you (yet you left me behind)
Description: Perhaps Jean should’ve pressed Kaeya for more answers about his past. Yet time was against them from the beginning.
Warnings: None
Comments: This is literally Kaeya with his secret keeping, and poor Jean dealing with heartbreak. The reason why I chose to bookmark this specific one out of all of the fics with a similar theme was because of the excellent world-building. It doesn’t start off with the scene where he leaves, and I enjoyed that quite a lot.
3. Where Your Loyalties Lie
Description: The summer sun is setting. Dandelion seeds chase the wind. It reminds me of how I follow you. I am yours, and you are mine. Until the end of time.
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Jean and Kaeya have a heart-to-heart about their relationship. In this timeline, Kaeya has already told Jean about his origins.
Warnings: None
Comments: Very short and sweet. Light angst for sure, but Kaeya needed the reassurance.
4. if you ever change your mind…
Description: Kaeya didn’t quite remember when these feelings started, or why they began. It was a sudden onslaught of affection he wasn’t remotely familiar with; any romantic experience he’d had prior was purely physical—and while both parties were drunk. But Jean was… different. He’d do anything for her, his loyalty knew no bounds... and it had never been because of her status in the Knightly hierarchy.
Warnings: None
Comments: Toothrottingly sweet at first, and then I was filling buckets with tears.
5. A Vision in the Rain
Description: Moments after his fight with Diluc, a vision in hand, Kaeya ran into the storm never to return to his home. Only one person was able to bring Kaeya back to Mondstadt that night.
Warnings: None
Comments: Kaeya gets reminded that he’s not alone, and anything that does that…I LOVE! Also…I cried.
6. Berries and Cream
Description: After a dangerous mission, Jean wakes up in a familiar room.
Warnings: None
Comments: This is the rare sickfic involving Kaeya where Kaeya isn’t the one who’s sick LOL. Ok, but, can I just say how much I adore Dom Kaejean?
7. Dandelion, Dandelion
Description: Khaenri'ah's godless, and Kaeya's never been one to bend a knee. There is, however, one person to whom he bends his knee.
Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence
Comments: Is it really possible to have a Kaeya fic that doesn’t involve Khaenri’ah? I don’t think so. Not complaining though. Also, the angst is light till the end, and it doesn’t get too bad.
8. Vision
Description: Where gods protection can't reach, the abyss opens it's arms.
Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence
Comments: In which an extremely fascinating twist for Kaeya is involved. And duh, he’s cursed, K?
9. An Open Hand
Description: In the wake of the tragedy that tore his family apart, Jean offers Kaeya her hand in marriage to keep him safe and in the Knights. But the fate of the Ragnvindrs is only one of the troubles besetting Mondstadt. As Kaeya and Jean dig into Diluc's loss and other suspicious events, they find themselves trying to unwind a conspiracy that may test their fragile new family to its limits.
Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence
Comments: Thrilling investigation following Crepus’ death and Diluc’s leave involving Jean and Kaeya! It’s a definite slow burn, and their relationship is purely platonic for the most part of the story. However, you can definitely tell that they are growing into love. I wish I can see Diluc’s reaction LOL. Also, this is a long-fic.
10. Unexpected Turbulance
Description: Jean and Kaeya are an average capital city couple: a promising young senator already making her mark on the political scene and a notorious fixer who seems capable of the impossible. And as an average capital couple they face the no worse than the usual problems, things like making time for one another and avoiding the press. Their lives are complicated but good, and, for the most part, stable. That is until an enemy from the past resurfaces unexpectedly and seems poised to wreck havoc on Jean's career. Now the two must figure out how to weather the political storm together. Both are determined to succeed with both of their careers in tact, but will determination be enough? Or was their "average" life always too good to last.
Warnings: None
Comments: Another wonderful investigative case set in a Modern AU. The characterization is spot on, and the author was able to nail Kaeya’s brain mechanism, which is something I found lacking in almost every other investigation case involving Kaeya. This fic is not nearly as angst as some of the other ones on this list, but there are moments. And…well, Kaeya’s visibly struggling throughout. It is my absolute favourite out of everything on this list. Also a long-fic. But not too long and totally worth the time.
#genshin kaeya#genshin impact#kaejean#fic rec#masterlist#genshin angst#kaeya angst#jean angst#unpopular ship#fanfiction#ao3 link
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“you look so very kind, like you’ve been made of glass and filled with the most sweetest of nectars and every time i press my lips against its rim i am reminded of how undeserving i am to be able to drink such divine grace, jean my dear jean you are fit only for the grandest and most holy of people and not for the likes of a sinner. so please, before i grow to thirst for a taste, leave me, leave me before i can even know what you taste like.”
#one day i will write the fic#it is not today#genshin impact#genshin impact angst#genshin angst#diluc and kaeya#rag bros#diluc ragnvindr#kaeya alberich#kaeya genshin impact#kaeya angst#diluc angst#jean genshin impact#jean angst#kaejean#kaejean angst
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the bond - chapter fourteen.
*bond: a relationship between people or groups based on shared feelings, interests, or experiences.
word count: 5909
based off of: 3x08, 3x09, & 3x10
a/n: ummm so kenny? pt. 2?
tag list: @ernyaeger - @luvelyxp - @urfictional - @decaffeinatedtealover - @ange-lica-3 - @midzuumi - @leiriswhore - @urfictional - @frasheliza - @echothy - @usernamehere91 - @happygirl5798 - @dwarfnip - @hegdus - @cheoriemoawa - @snapdragon-atelier - @fckwritersblock
let me know if you’d like to be added!
You stare at the collapsing cavern in front of you, back pressing into the wall behind you because of the force of wind being smacked in your direction. It feels like it’s slapping you, forcing you back as your eyes shift across the cavern, trying to find some sort of escape room.
You can’t see anything.
Not anything that’ll help you escape at least.
To your side, Historia presses against you, and you let out a huff of frustration at the situation.
“We need to figure out something,” you cry, staring at the pieces of falling debris; “or else we’re gonna get crushed under the rumble.”
No one says anything because there are no solutions–not any viable ones at least. No one says anything because they can’t argue against your words either. You might’ve been able to rescue Eren and Historia, but that still didn’t help with the actual escaping part now that Rod Reiss had transformed and there was still the threat of Kenny’s men.
Kenny…
Had he made it out okay?
Did you care?
You weren’t sure.
A sob pulls you from your thoughts, brows furrowing as you glance down at Eren who’s slumped against the wall, noticing the tears streaming down his face.
“I’m sorry, everyone,” he sobs pathetically, hands left hanging by his sides uselessly. “I’ve been nothing but useless… ever since the very beginning, I was never the hope of humanity…”
No one says anything. A second later, something catches Eren’s eyes.
“Armor?”
“What’s this?” Jean speaks up, your eyes flickering to him as he smirks down at Eren. “Think you’re some tragic hero? When have you ever accomplished anything by your strength alone?”
Connie is quick to follow his lead; “what a weakling,” he jests, “we’ve been through worse than this.”
“Far worse,” you pipe up, pulling Eren’s gaze on you as you meet his, smiling down at him. “I’d say, at least.”
“Not that I wanna get used to it!” Sasha adds and you let out a light laugh at that.
“Still,” Connie mumbles, glancing ahead; “it’s going to suck trying to navigate through all that.”
Following the direction of his gaze, you scoff; “you’re telling me.”
“I’ll take Eren,” Mikasa calls from over your shoulder.
Jean then leans towards Historia, frowning; “we can’t go nice and slow for you, so hold on for your life.”
A moment later, she’s nodding.
“It’s useless,” Eren mumbles, staring at you like you’ve all gone insane. “We can’t escape.”
“So do nothing?” Historia argues, glaring down at him. “You wanna sit here and hold hands til we’re crushed or burned to death? Because we’re enemies of humanity?”
Eren’s eyes widen.
“You know,” Levi speaks up, voice low. “I hate doing this to you every time, but… Eren. you’ve gotta make the choice.”
You’re not sure what it means, but it seems to be enough for Eren. The look of surprise on his face fades as his gaze hardens and determination floods his gaze. With a blink of the eye, he’s standing up, grabbing the armor vial you’d brought with you and lunging forward, right in the direction of Rod Reiss.
“Eren!” Mikasa cries, reaching out for him but he’s already too far gone.
In the next second there’s a bright light that blinds you, your hands falling in front of your gaze as you lean back, trying to squint through. As the fog fades and lessens, you see it–it’s the Attack Titan! And not some frail or broken version of Eren’s Titan, he’s completely transformed and there’s that hardening stuff that had swarmed you all seconds ago coming out of him, spreading around the entirety of the cavern in long vines.
“What the…”
“Everyone!” Levi bellows, “get underneath Eren!”
No one hesitates, and moving so you’re directly standing underneath Eren, you watch as the vines he sends out protects you from the pieces of debris falling around you all. It creates a wall, and as the entire chapel breaks and falls apart over top of you, none of you get hit.
Trying to peer through the smoke surrounding you, your eyes widen.
“Guys!” You scream, pointing ahead of yourself, “Eren! He’s hardening too!”
Your eyes meet Mikasa and with a gasp, she lunges forward, Jean following her as they’re the two closest. They use their ODM gear to reach his nape, using the handles of their blades to break him out.
Once he’s completely out, Jean and Mikasa help lower him down.
“This is what I call hardening,” Levi calls, staring at the hardened Attack Titan Eren had left behind, completely intact. “Even after cutting you away, the Titan hasn’t disappeared. Pretty impressive, yeah?”
Eren just stares, as if in disbelief himself, before he blinks; “oh, yeah! Right before I turned into a Titan, I drank that “Armor” bottle…”
“Yeah,” Levi nods, stepping towards him. “You couldn’t do it at all before now, but you used the hardening power. And saved all of us. In the blink of an eye, you devised and built all this. Yeah, the construction looks shoddy, but… I bet that’s how the walls were made, too. In other words…”
Your eyes widen, shoulders tensing.
“It’s possible for us to plug that hole in Wall Maria now.”
You could… you could go back home…
“A lot of enemies and allies have died on the way,” Levi explains, “and getting this far hasn’t been pretty. But for as ugly as it’s been, look at the position we’re in now.”
Biting your lip, you glance up, eyes widening when you see Jean’s eyes on you. It’s like he’d been watching you the entire time, gauging your reaction and it makes your heart flutter at the action – he’d been the only one you’d really expressed just how much plugging that hole in Maria meant. How much going back meant to you.
And even in the midst of everything, it seemed you’d been his first thought.
Your lips part, but then–
“Captain!”
You turn at the sound of Sasha’s voice, watching as Connie and Sasha make their way back down the rope they’d used to climb out.
“We’ve secured an exit!” Sasha explains, landing on her feet before turning to make her way over to you all, Connie behind her.
“Armin’s okay.” Connie assures, “Hange and Moblit too.”
“Well done,” Levi nods back at them.
“Eren,” Sasha calls, racing towards him.
“You okay?” Eren asks in return, leaning in the direction of her.
All of sudden, Sasha falls to her knees in front of Eren, pressing her forehead to the floor; “we’re all safe, thanks to you!” You smile at that, shaking your head at her antics.
“But to be perfectly honest, when you ran off prancing while crying like a baby… I thought we were doomed!”
Shaking your head, you step forward.
“Sasha,” you call out, frowning lightly.
“‘It’s over, over!’” She continues, simply ignoring you, “‘Get it together, nincompoop! Quit bawling like a snotty-nosed brat!’ is what I thought.”
Levi steps towards her, “hey,” he calls, “let’s go. We’re going after that big-ass Titan.”
-
Despite yours and everyone else attempts to argue in favour, Historia readily accepts her role as Queen. She’s thankful for you all standing up for her, but she knows what is expected of her and she understands the consequences if she denies it.
All she has is one last condition–that she be allowed to fight alongside you all as a Scout one last time.
So, here you are, preparing for the battle that Commander Erwin has set up, fighting alongside your comrades and those you’ve grown to care for as a family with the hopes that the gamble is a success.
If it isn’t, then hundreds of innocent lives will be lost.
Splashing some water on your face, you try to stay focused, ignoring the millions of thoughts running through your mind.
“Y/N.”
Brows furrowing, you straighten out, head turning to the left and frowning when you see Jean facing you.
You’d been grouped off with him, Sasha, and Connie, with Levi leading your section, so it isn’t really a surprise he’s here. What is a surprise is that he wants to talk to you… the two of you have been steadily avoiding each other, despite being in close contact, since you’d confessed your feelings for him. You didn’t blame him; you’d avoided him just as much as he had and honestly, you weren’t ever sure if things would go back to the way they were.
You doubted it. Even if the two of you managed to settle things, your heart would still hurt every time you looked at him. It wasn’t his fault, that you knew. If anything, it was your fault for letting your emotions get the better of you even if you’d known how wrong it would’ve been if you did so.
In all honesty, this was all your fault. Your fault for being stupid, for being emotional, for letting yourself think that something like a relationship was possible in the world you lived in. It wasn’t just the Titans, it was your life–who you were. You’d grown up alone, you had no friends… it was a miracle you’d managed to make the comrades you had in the past few years.
And you’d ruined one of the most important ones because of your feelings.
Meeting his gaze, you swallow thickly; “yes?”
“I…” His lips part to say more, eyes wide and a light flush across his cheeks, but even as he stands there, no words manage to escape him.
Letting your hands fall, you sigh. It was unfair of you to punish him when he’d done nothing wrong – if he didn’t like you in that way, that was just a fact you’d have to come to understand. “It’s okay, Jean,” you whisper, ignoring the way your heart twists painfully in your chest. “I understand.”
He blinks, shocked because he hadn’t said anything, shaking his head; “but–”
“I shouldn’t have let my feelings get in the way, anyways,” you explain, shaking your head as you step towards him. “It was silly and unprofessional of me. I’m sorry I put you in such a tight spot in the first place.”
“Y/N–”
A loud thud echoes, shaking the ground beneath you and your head turns in the direction of Rod Reiss’ Titan, noting that he’s shortening the distance.
Turning back to Jean, you smile lightly though it doesn’t meet your eyes; “we should get ready.”
And with that you walk past him, moving towards Levi, Connie and Sasha who are standing a few feet away from you. You don't notice Jean’s gaze follow your own, a deep frown on his lips as he curses himself mentally.
Why couldn’t he just say it?
-
Eren is successful. You feel the heat of the blast as he sends the explosives directly into Rod Reiss’ mouth, sending his body in chunks into multiple different directions.
Commander Erwin’s order comes seconds later; ‘find the nape and kill it’ and without hesitation, everyone jumps into action, making their way towards Rod Reiss’ body, slicing through the pieces of his body that fly before you.
The desperation bleeds in, trying to find his nape. You hear Jean call out towards Connie in frustration, and your eyes meet Sasha’s briefly as you both slice through the chunks that come soaring towards you with no luck.
And then a flash of blond zooms past you, and before you know it, an explosion echoes, Historia having successfully sliced through the nape of her father–effectively killing him.
She’d… she’d done it.
-
“Hold on… you’re seriously doing it, Historia?”
“Yeah, I am.”
Raising a brow, you glance at Historia.
“Mikasa was just joking,” Eren argues, the desperation bleeding into his tone as he walks beside the girl, trying to get her to listen to reason. “Right, Mikasa?” His gaze shifts to Mikasa who, as usual, is walking next to him, confident that she’ll give reason.
“After you smack him, tell him this… ‘I dare you to hit me back’.”
But of course, Mikasa has always had a personal vendetta against the Captain since the moment he beat up Eren when he was on trial – so, as you expected, she doesn’t listen to reason. Or help Historia to either.
“Damn you…!” Eren curses.
Poking through the space between Jean and Historia, you set your hand on Historia, squeezing it reassuringly; “I personally think this is a wonderful idea,” you grin, despite yourself. It wasn’t often you all got to have a bit of fun and especially recently. Sure, it could end horribly but you doubted Levi would act the way Eren was so afraid he would – if there was one thing you’ve come to learn about the Captain is his grumpy personality was nothing more than just a front. Besides… “Eren’s just afraid of the Captain,” you eyes, eyes shifting as you stick your tongue out at him.
Eren just stares wide-eyed back at you; “aren’t you?!” Then, turning back to Historia, he shakes his head. “If it’s not a real grudge, just forget about it.”
“If I can’t do this, how can I call myself Queen?”
Nodding to yourself, you find you like Historia’s reasoning.
“Hell yeah, Historia,” Jean cheers from beside you, and you send a quick glance his way before averting your gaze. “That’s the spirit!”
Historia lets out a gasp, eyes falling ahead of her, and you follow her gaze, eyes widening when you see it’s Levi himself. He walks forward when he notices the group of you, moving to stand in front of you, and slowly, Historia steps forward, shoulders tensing as nervous gasps leave her lips. You wait in bated breath, now not so sure with the man standing directly in front of you.
How would Levi actually respond?
After a moment longer, Historia suddenly lets out a cry, racing forward and swinging her arm back before punching Levi directly in his arm. In retrospect, the punch doesn’t look all that painful, still, your chest tightens with worry as Sasha and Connie grab onto you in panic and you all watch, waiting to see Levi’s reaction.
“How’d you like that?!” Historia cries, giggling maniacally, “I’m the Queen! If you got a problem–”
But then, Levi does the unthinkable,
He laughs.
A short, simple chuckle.
Still–
Then, slowly, he raises his head, a soft smile on his lips; “thank you… all of you.”
Eyes widening, you feel yourself relaxed, an ease watching over you as you register the sincerity in his gaze, drifting across all of you. You’re unable to stop the smile that curls onto your lips in response, a sense of pride at being able to not only succeed but make Levi proud as well.
-
You’re just about to make your way towards Sasha and Mikasa when he calls out for you.
“Y/N.”
And your brows furrowed in confusion, Levi being the last one you expected to call for you. You pause, trying to think if you’d done something that he would want to speak to you about but nothing comes to mind–it surely can’t be because of what had happened in the Chapel, could it? He hadn’t seemed all that frustrated with you after the incident….
A quick glance at Levi’s face and he doesn’t seem mad–so, no, it can’t be that.
Swallowing back the nerves flooding through you, you step towards him, tilting your head in confusion at him; “Captain?”
“Do you have a minute?” He asks, glancing past you, and you follow his gaze, noticing the way Sasha is frowning at you, eyes dancing with wonder, a hard look from Mikasa who’s standing next to her at Levi. You just shake your head at them briefly, before turning back to Levi.
“Yes, Captain,” you assure, clasping your hands behind your back as you meet his gaze. “Is… is everything alright?”
He sighs at that, only further concerning you as he shifts, inhaling sharply before he finally speaks. “Right after the battle with Rod Reiss’ Titan, a Scout informed me that they’d found a sighting of Kenny Ackerman just south of where the Chapel had been. He’d been the sole survivor of his friends, the rest of them all having been crushed under the rubble.”
Lips parting, you stare back at him.
Why was he…–
“Turns out Kenny Ackerman is my uncle.”
Blinking, your eyes widen.
You weren’t expecting that, to put it bluntly–then again, you weren’t expecting any of this.
Levi stares back at you, letting his eyes drift across you before he continues; “my full name is Levi Ackerman.”
It’s shocking to say the least.
But what shocks you more is the fact that Levi is telling you.
You’re just a cadet on his team. One of the many brats he’d been forced to deal with over the past few weeks and although Levi was hard around the edges, you knew he cared about you all in his own way–but that’s just it. He cared about you all, and it wasn’t like you’d grown particularly close to your Captain in any meaning of the word so why had he pulled you aside to tell you this himself?
Something so personal to him?
“With all due respect, Captain, why… Why are you telling me this?”
He pauses, and you feel your chest tighten in worry at what was wrong. Why was he being so… elusive like this?
Reaching into his jacket, he pulls out a slip of paper, before extending it towards you.
You stare at it for a moment, gaze flickering from him to the letter before slowly taking it. He nods at you the second you pause before unfolding it and still as confused as you were two minutes ago, you slowly unfold the paper. It’s old, worn around the edges and the paper has stained yellow and feels as if it might rip if you weren’t anything but gentle with it. Yet, it’s in perfect condition otherwise, as if the letter had been carefully protected over years.
And when you open it, disbelief floods you.
It’s your mothers writing.
You’d recognize it anywhere.
When you were a little girl, she used to help you with your own penmanship and you used to study her writing for hours.
Before you can gather the courage to read it, your eyes meet Levi’s. He’s watching you, carefully, and all he does is gesture at you to read it, staying completely silent.
So, ignoring the racing of your heart and the way your hands shake, you let your eyes drift across the words written on the page.
Kenny.
If you’re reading this, that means you came back.
I tried to wait for a month, but I had to move on. Being in this house felt too painful, reminding me constantly of the day you walked out the door on me and left our child.
I’ve only left this letter so that if you ever did return, you’d know that I tried for you but you never tried for me. For our child. And that I hate you with my entire being.
I never want to see you again.
And I never want your daughter to see what coward her father is.
So, if this letter finds you, never search for me.
Never search for Y/N.
Our child will never know your name, she’ll never know her father and she will inherit my name, not the Ackerman name. She will never know of your existence.
And if I ever see you, I'll kill you myself.
Johanna.
You retrace the words once more, a lump forming at the back of your throat as a sick feeling washes over you, swallowing you whole.
Kenny… was your father.
The feeling that had nagged at the back of your mind, that had filled you with dread and hope all at the same time… it was because it was true.
Kenny Ackerman was your father.
Your father who’d left your mother all alone.
Your mother who had hated him so much she’d never talked about him, never told you the truth and never wanted him to come searching for you?
Is this why? Because he’d left her all alone… because he’d abandoned her–abandoned you…
Had Kenny never gone looking for you because of this?
Or was it because he truly didn’t care for you?
To just leave your mother like that, he must’ve not–
“Y/N.”
You’d forgotten Levi was even there. It’s starting to feel like you can’t breathe as the truth comes crashing onto your shoulders. The sick feeling in your stomach is ever present and your vision is closing in on you as your fingers grip onto the letter tightly, risking ripping it but in your confused mind, you don’t even think of it.
This is… this is horrible. This can’t be true–any of it… all of that, the years spent thinking about your father, dreaming of the day you’d meet him, of imagining what he looked like, sounded like and he was the man who’d captured your friends, tried to kill them… was the man who’d abandoned your pregnant, alone and scared mother.
It comes like a startling realization, barely noticing how you’re gasping for air. You can't breathe–
“Y/N!”
Blinking, you stare back at Levi. Everything zones in on him as he frowns down at you.
“This was it, right? In the wagon? Under the Chapel? You’d thought…” His words trail, like he’s not sure what to say. “You’d thought Kenny might be your father?”
A shaky exhale leaves you. “My mother… before she died… she told me to find my father. She’d said his name but never finished, all she’d gotten out was Ken before she’d… died.” Feeling your eyes water, you do everything in your power to hold back your tears, feeling like you might puke. “When I heard the name, I thought I was crazy but I couldn’t get rid of this feeling in the back of my mind… and then, when you’d mentioned having a moment where you felt like power had surged through you–all I could think was I’d had a moment like that.”
Levi just continues to frown down at you.
“But this?” You cry, unable to stop the way your voice pitches as you gesture to the letter. “He… he just left her! He abandoned my mom and me!”
Levi shakes his head; “he did the same to me.”
You freeze, turning to Levi.
“When I was a boy in the Underground. One day, he just… left.”
It hadn’t even processed to you yet. If Kenny was Levi’s uncle then…
Clenching your fists, you huff; “where is he? I want… I want to talk to him.”
You move to walk forward, but Levi stops you with a hand to your shoulder. When you meet his gaze, he looks solemn; “he’s dead, Y/N.”
He’s… what?
“He wanted me to give you that letter. Said he’s kept it since the day he found it.” Levi explains, “I won't tell you how to feel. You can hate him or you can forgive him. That choice is up to you. But he wanted you to know he was sorry.”
If you had reached him in the Chapel, would he have still apologized to you?
If he wasn’t dying in front of Levi, would he have still felt apologetic for everything?
This was too much. It hurt too much.
Everything–fuck, it hurt.
“Captain,” you whisper, staring at your feet as you blink back the tears. “If Kenny’s your uncle, then…–”
“Yes,” he cuts in before you can finish, and you flinch at his tone, “our relationship stays the same, Y/N. I am still your Captain.”
You try to ignore the way his words sting, tug painfully at your heart. You don’t know why you would’ve expected any differently. This is who Levi was. You didn’t have to know him that well to understand that. His role as a Scout always comes first. He was your Captain and you were a cadet on his squad. Just because… just because–
Nodding, you fight back the words you truly want to say. “I understand, Captain.”
You move to walk off, but Levi’s hand catches your wrist.
Lips parting, you turn to meet his eyes.
“Our relationship stays the same, yes,” he nods, and disbelief floods you as his face shifts to a look of discomfort, as if not sure how to say his next words. There’s regret in his eyes, like he hadn’t meant the words he’d said earlier and his grip on your wrist loosens as his expression softens. “But… you are family, and I know neither of us have very much of that left. So, if you need anything, you… just need to ask.”
Did he–
“That is all.”
His hand leaves your own and before you can say anything, he’s turning, walking off.
You watch his back, watching him grow further and further, as a small smile curls onto your lips, despite everything, his words process in your mind.
Family…
You couldn’t believe it.
You’d lost your mother, you’d never get to talk to your father but… but you had family. You had someone…
You had Levi.
-
A knock on your door catches your attention.
Peeling your eyes from the letter that hasn’t left your hands since Levi gave it to you, you glance at your shut door, before slowly letting the letter fall to the bed, standing up.
When you open the door, Jean is standing on the other side of it.
You blink; “Jean.”
He stares back at you, but you quickly notice the look of determination in his gaze. He has his shoulders squared and his hands are clenched by his sides and he’s making his way inside the room before you can even say anything more, let alone him saying anything back in return. The action stuns you and confuses you, and you momentarily wonder if it’s everyone’s goal to confuse you today as you slowly shut the door behind you, turning to face Jean.
You raise a brow; “is… everything okay?”
He spins to face you, and your head jeers back at the quickness of his movement.
“I have something to tell you!” He declares, voice pitching.
You stare back at him for a moment, before nodding. “Me too actually.”
And it’s true. You hadn’t said anything to anyone since Levi had told you, even though Sasha and Mikasa had tried to ask what had happened. It wasn’t that you hadn’t wanted to tell them, but you were still processing the information yourself and needed time. It was one thing to find out who your father was, and another to realize that he’d left your mother and had abandoned you and that you’d never get to ask him about it–about why–because he was dead.
And there was nothing you could do to change that.
But you wanted someone to confide in and even if Levi had said you could come to him, you knew it couldn’t be about this. He’d already done enough telling you the truth in the first place and you still weren’t sure how to navigate this newfound relationship you shared with him.
It was more a matter of who you could confide in.
And despite everything, the answer had come easily.
Jean.
Even if he didn’t return your feelings, even if he didn’t like you like you did–you still felt most comfortable with him. You still found warmth and solace with him by your side and you didn’t want to lose that. As much as you’d felt embarrassed, it had been painful and uncomfortable feeling distant from him for the last while.
And that wasn’t something you wanted to continue.
You wanted to tell him, because you knew he’d help make you feel better and that it would show him that despite what had happened, you still trusted him.
Jean blinks at your words, before slowly nodding and then, there’s an echo of silence, before both of you just blurt it out.
“I’m in love with you!”
“Kenny Ackerman is my father.”
Woah–
Had he…
Eyes widening, you stare back at Jean, a similar expression on his face staring back at you, except his cheeks are bright red with the flush of his confession.
And silence follows, a minute, and then another, and then finally you say something but all you can manage is; “oh.”
He cringes, curling into himself, as his eyes lower and then his eyes catch the letter on your bed and it’s like your words finally register in him.
“Wait,” he calls, shaking his head, “Kenny’s your father?”
“Uh, yeah,” you nod, slowly. “Captain Levi just told me a little bit ago–”
“Captain did?”
“Well, yeah, turns out he’s actually my… family, I guess? Because Kenny’s his uncle and I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to say that to you so do not tell anyone that! Especially Connie or Sasha because I think he’ll actually kill me if he found out and–wait! Did you just say you love me?”
Your ramble ends with you breathless, and Jean’s cheek burns red as the attention turns back to him.
“Yeah,” he says quietly, “I… I wanted to tell you before, when we were fighting Rod Reiss’ Titan but then you just kind of…”
Cut him off is what you’d done.
Because you thought he was just trying to apologize for hurting your feelings and you’d been too embarrassed to have to face pity like that so you’d brushed it off.
He’d been trying to tell you he loved you?
What–
“But when I… you ran off, so I thought–”
Jean steps towards you, “I… I hadn't meant to… not really.” Rubbing the back of his nape, Jean glances at his feet, thoroughly embarrassed. “I was feeling like a coward because Armin had to kill someone for me when I couldn’t and I was worried because you’d gotten hurt and I don’t know… I panicked.”
You look off to the right, unable to stop the pout from forming on your lips; “I thought… Well, I thought it was because you were still in love with Mikasa.”
“What?”
You blink, turning back to Jean, not having expected the bellow that left his lips. His eyes are wide as he stares back at you, like you’re crazy and he’s crossing the distance over to you until he’s right in front of you. “No, no… I… I’ve liked you for a while but I felt like I didn’t deserve you because… well, because I’m a coward.”
You can’t help it. You reach out for him, grabbing his arms as you shake your head up at him. “That is not true,” you argue without hesitation, voice pleading with desperation for him to believe your words. “You’re… you’re one of the bravest men I’ve ever met. Sure, I thought you were a jerk when I first met you but then… you just kept changing and growing and when you chose the Scouts over a quiet life in the Military Police my entire view of you changed. You make me feel safe and warm and protected even if I can take care of myself. You’ve helped me and comforted me more times than I can count and… you were the first one I wanted to tell about my father, Jean. No one else.”
Staring back at you, Jean’s lips part; “Y/N…”
“You’re more than just brave,” you finish, “you’re an amazing leader.”
He stares back at you, your words hanging in the air and then, slowly, his hand raises, and you freeze when his hand falls on your cheek, cupping it.
“I really do love you.” His admission is breathless, as if dazed as he stares down at you, drunk at the sight and feeling of you.
It makes your heart flutter.
Licking your lips, you stare up at him; “I… I love you too, Jean.”
He smiles, and his eyes flicker down to your lips before back on your eyes, and you just stare back at him, waiting. Then, after a moment, he leans forward, pressing his lips against your own. His lips are warm against yours, and your eyes fall shut as he pulls you closer, feeling your back straighten at his touch on you.
He’s pulling back in the next second, still nervous, the kiss short but sweet as you smile up at him, cheeks flushed.
And then, Jean blinks. “We really gotta talk about Kenny being your father though,” he cuts in, frowning down at you. “Are you okay?”
Swallowing thickly, you lean into him; “he wanted me to have that letter… it was a letter my mom had written him after he left her, telling him to never come looking for me or her… Captain Levi said he was sorry,” glancing at the letter, you frown. “But I can’t help but wonder if he’d still feel that way if he’d lived.”
Jean lets go of you, moving to grab the letter. He sends a look your way, asking for permission, but you just nod, letting him read it. You watch him do so, seeing the shock that floods his gaze before he finishes, glancing back at you.
“She… she seemed really hurt.”
You nod, making your way over to him; “I wish she would’ve told me the truth.”
Jean hands you the letter; “she probably thought she was protecting you.”
“I know,” you agree, letting your fingers brush against the letter. “Still. I’ll… I'll never get to ask him myself.”
You feel your eyes water again, unable to hold them back as you stare back at Jean. He reacts without hesitation, pulling you into him as his arms wrap around you, and you sink into the hug, burying your face into the crook of his neck.
Jean holds you close, never letting you go, and it helps.
Even just a little.
-
The door is open when Kenny returns.
And everything is completely silent.
As he pushes the door open slowly, he isn’t surprised to see it completely empty without a single trace of Johanna anywhere.
Frowning, Kenny lets his eyes drift across the barren house, before his eyes fall on a letter laid on the table.
Making his way over, he takes the letter, slowly unfolding it, eyes drifting across the words scrawled across the page.
The second he’s finished, he stares at it a moment longer, before folding it and sliding it into the inner pocket of his jacket, standing there a moment longer before making his way back out of the house.
Kenny doesn’t know it but…
It’s two days after Johanna had left.
And he’d been too late.
It’s that moment that returns to his mind seconds before his death, that barren, empty house and that letter he’d held for sixteen years straight–never once opening it again but never once daring to throw it away.
And as he lets his eyes fall shut, ignoring the stunned look on his nephew's face, he lets himself think of you for the first time in sixteen years. He’d only gotten a glimpse of you, but he lets that float through his mind, before the image of Johanna appears in his mind just as he feels himself slipping away.It would’ve been nice, he thinks, to have been able to talk to you at least once.
#aot#aot x reader#attack on titan#attack on titan x reader#shingeki no kyojin#jean kirstein#jean kirstein x reader#jean kirschtein x reader#jean x reader#jean angst#jean fluff#levi ackerman#eren jaeger
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content: angst?, jean x reader, canonverse, hurt/comfort, kind of proofread
An eerie feeling churns in your stomach; you throw suspicious glances around the long hallway you’re lurking in as you approach your room. Something isn’t right.
The off feeling only weighs heavier in your stomach as you draw closer to your door. There’s a sinister silence filling this side of the building, and you can somehow sense that whatever is causing it is in your room. You secretly hope that Jean can ease your worries — his contagious laugh and playful smile always melt away your tensions after a long day of training. You can’t wait to surprise him by finishing up early. ‘He’ll be so glad.’ Though the upcoming meeting with Jean is right behind your bedroom door, your excitement to see him does nothing to alleviate the uneasiness plaguing your mind.
You turn the knob to your room, a prominent ‘click’ from the knob sounding your arrival, and the door opens quietly. The room is nearly pitch black, save for a few faltering rays of the sunset sneaking through your open window. You step inside and skim over the interior. Jean would be on your bed, or at your desk, or some place where he could see you come in. He’d even occasionally wait outside your door. His absence only makes your nerves worse.
Movement in the corner of the room catches your eyes. A tuft of hair barely visible on the other side of your bed. Is he sitting on the floor? Maybe he wanted to try and scare you? You’re not convinced, but it’s the only explanation that comes to mind.
Heart rattling in your chest, you approach Jean on the other side of your bed. Shadows colour his face, but you can just make out the miserable frown on his lips. His head is tilted towards the floor, knees pulled up to his chest, and hands pressed hard against his ears. You shuffle over until you’re in front of his cowering form, and kneel down on the floor. The sight of him breaks your heart; he looks like a scared little child.
“Jean?”, you whisper, hands finding their way to cover his own. He flinches at your touch, and it sends shivers down your spine.
His eyes flicker open, gaze slowly rising as he takes in your presence.”Baby?”, he whispers back.”What are you doing back so early?”
“Nevermind that,” you say firmly, studying his expression.”What happened? What’s wrong? Why are you curled up on the floor, Jean, are you okay?”
He looks at you, and you notice the way his bottom lip trembles. Something is horribly wrong. You’ve only seen Jean cry a handful of times, and it was usually when something devastating happened. You’ve only caught him once, however, isolated with hands clasped over his ears.
“Is it him again?” You ask the question gently, careful not to set him off.
Jean gives you a nod and, even with the dim light filling the room, you can see the reflection of tears beginning to trail down his cheeks. You instantly pull him into a hug, plopping down beside him as he leans against you, and then drops down to lay his head in your lap. His body stutters and low, broken sobs escape him. One hand on his shoulder, you use the other to lightly massage his scalp and rub fingers through his hair. Jean has a tight grip on your calf as he buries his face in your lap. The wetness of his tears seep through your pants, but you don’t mind. The annoyance is totally drowned out by the sympathy and comfort you exhibit to your boyfriend, too caught up in trying to ease his sorrow to care about some small stain in your clothes.
The sky is pitch black when Jean finally sits up. He doesn’t meet your eyes, ashamed and a little embarrassed.
“Hey.” You murmur and place a careful hand under his chin.”It’s okay, Jean. I’ll always be here for you. You don’t have to be scared to be vulnerable around me, love.”
He finally meets your gaze, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed from crying. Jean’s arms find themselves around your waist, and he tucks his face into the crook of your neck as he pulls you into a hug.”Thank you, baby. I love you. So much.”
Lips place light kisses on his neck, ear, anywhere they can reach.”I love you too, Jean. Don’t ever forget that.”
#jean angst#jean kirstein imagine#jean kirschtein x reader#jean x reader#jean kirstein#jean kirstein angst#jean x reader angst#jean x reader fluff#jean kirschtein fluff#jean kirstein x reader#snk angst#snk fluff#aot x reader#aot x reader angst
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PAPER HEART | JEAN KIRSTEIN X FEM!INSERT
WORDS: 0.6k
CONTENT: no manga spoilers, angst
NOTE: when i saw that there was an angst collab, i just had to join ✋🏻💀 look at me doing this instead of studying for my finals 😍 also i’m rusty and this is definitely not my best work... check out @okkatsudon ‘s collab here!
he always called eren a suicidal maniac. but even after all these years, jean was jealous of that very same suicidal maniac he thought would lead everyone to hell.
everyone sat in a large cell after being locked up by the jaegerists. jean looked around, seeing artur reassure the rest of braus family that they would be okay. niccolo stood by them. mikasa and armin were sitting at a table, quiet after events they wouldn’t speak about. connie had his arms crossed as he glared at the ground… and then his eyes finally made it to [name].
he tried talking to her earlier, after she had spoken to eren with the others, but she didn’t respond. her eyes were practically screaming that she was devastated and wanted to be left alone.
but jean could recall a time where [name] was the complete opposite, and that was the time before eren came into the picture. well, the time that he wanted to recall.
it was always jean and [name]. it was the cliche falling in love with your next door neighbor, and best friend, for jean. they hung out everyday and knew almost everything about each other.
that wasn’t the case anymore.
they are still pretty close today, but there was certain things [name] began to hide from jean. the reveal of her first secret was the one that hurt him the most.
“yeah… i’m dating eren.”
jean never even figured it out from [name] herself. it had to be reiner of all people to spill the beans while they were cadets. and after that, jean found himself continuously getting hurt.
[name] and eren were in love, eren was [name]’s first, eren was who always received her first “good morning” when breakfast was being served.
each and every action made tears in his paper heart.
but even as he grew even more torn down, he wasn’t going to leave her. even being all busted up, his heart wouldn’t let him.
jean walked up to [name]. she was sitting with her knees tucked to her chest in the corner away from everyone else. [name] turned her head at him, watching as he plopped down right next to her.
“hey…” he spoke gently, a tone that he only used with her, “do you want to talk about it?”
[name] swallowed her tears, scooting closer to jean and placing her head on his shoulder. she found comfort in his warmth. in all honesty, she’d been lacking it for awhile.
“it just hurts,” she told him. “everything that eren said… he just- after everything we’ve been through, he hurt us so easily.”
‘i wouldn’t hurt you’
“what did he say to you?”
“well, he said that i was a hopeless and pathetic girl that loved him...”
‘i wouldn’t ever think that in his position’
“…he also told me that he hates me and finds the fact that i can’t hate him amusing.”
‘i would never hate you or say something like that’
“that asshole,” jean growled.
[name] smiled at him, “don’t go losing it yet. maybe you should take your anger out on me.”
he raised a brow she couldn’t see, “why would i ever be mad at you?”
her smile turned into a frown, “because in the end, i still love him. he’s run me over countless of times and left me, but i still can’t say it. i can’t say that i hate him after all his betrayals. i love the eren jaeger, the ultimate asshole.”
jean felt anguish rippling through his body. he bit his lip to prevent it from quivering. he quietly asked, “do you think you’ll love him forever?”
[name] closed her eyes, “to be honest, i think i will.”
his paper heart was then set on fire and burned to ashes.
NAVIGATION
please reblog to support <3
#jean x reader#aot x reader#aot x female reader#snk x reader#attack on titan x reader#attack on titan x female reader#shingeki no kyoujin#shingeki no kyoujin x reader#attack on titan#jean kirsten x reader#jean kirschtein x reader#jean kirstein#jean kirschtein#jean angst#aot angst#eren x reader#eren jaeger#aqwriting
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I’ve been compromised.
#disco elysium#fanfic#fanfiction#harry du bois#jean vicquemare#guys being dudes#jean angst#I wrote this don’t look at me
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