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y3ager · 6 months

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MATERIAL GIRL.

— and what do you give the girl who has everything? two rich boyfriends!

jean k. x eren y. x black!fem!reader

tags: modern au, fluff, polyamorous relationship. socialite!reader. lovergirldeepdown!reader. 4k word count. inspired by this blurb.

HAILING FROM OLD money— your father the CEO of a century old automobile brand and your mother the third generation runway model—you have seen all there is to see, worn what there is to wear, had every priceless stone dangle from your neck and fingers, and tasted the most decadent of foods. the belief that just superficial things would be enough to sway you offends you greatly. if you don’t have it, you will have it as if it’s your right at this point. it takes much more than dinner and a yacht ride to make you squeal.

and that’s what’s so tiring about the whole dating scene. the pool is filled to the brim with arrogant nepotism babies in khaki shorts and sweaters around their shoulders. they’ll never worry about a thing because daddy kisses the ass of this man and mommy grins in the face of that woman, and by god, do they make it known. if another man brags about owning original modigliani pieces over dinner, he’ll be met with an oyster shell to the eye. who are you supposed to be, some bright-eyed influencer? please. check the pedigree.

things changed when you met them, however. one in the summer, and one in the winter.

you were on the jet back home from italy when hitch, a girl you’ve known since you were a tyke, bombarded your phone with messages about christening her new penthouse with a pool party you just had to come to, lest she’d drag you there. after confirming your attendance, you rolled back over in the white leather reclining seat and pulled your silk eye mask back down, making a mental note to get your braids refreshed and place an order for a new bikini.

you’re reborn as a literal doll, the braids on the left side of your head coaxed into an intricate butterfly while the others lay flat against your scalp in faultless rows and hang low to your hipbones. white, white, white everywhere, from the nails, the strappy swimsuit, the miu miu sandals; a beautiful contrasts against your glistening ebon skin dusted with body shimmer for good measure. perfect, as usual.

hitch’s new high rise penthouse is something out of a multimillion dollar budget drama, with its dozens of crystal clear windows and modern interior. sitting far away enough from the city to avoid the hustle and bustle, but close enough to gaze at the twinkling lights, it’s practically a palace for the dreyse corporation heir.

champagne flute filled with 1820 juglar cuvée, you mingle amongst the next generation of the one percent. hitch’s friends, and your friends by proxy you assume, are a breath of fresh air. human.

but there’s one person amongst the gaggle you don’t recognize. from your spot next to the slightly tispy miss dreyse, your dark eyes glance over the rim of your ivory framed sunnies, glass rim tapping absentmindedly against lined, glossed lips. light brown mullet, slightly tanned skin, dark brown eyes...

“hitchie...” your elbow gently bumps into the blonde’s sides, snatching her out of her mild stupor. “who’s that?” you ask innocently, gesturing with your half full flute. it’s casual, inquisitive.

hitch squints a little bit, pure concentration written all over her features as she tries to put a name to the face. “oh!” when the name comes to her, her hand meets the back of your shoulder in a kinda hard slap, totally unintentional, of course. “jean, kirschtein! you know, from-” a hiccup interrupts her introduction, making her burst into a quick giggle. “-the oil company.”

the pieces begin to come together, you know the names all of the elite; the braun’s, the leonhart’s, the ackerman’s, names listed amongst yours and names you close deals with. clans with power, influence, wealth, distinction.

he, jean, is walking over now; casual with an easy stride that shows he’s in no rush, he’s confident. he pays his respects to the girl of the hour, congratulating her on her new playhouse before her attention is diverted by another guest calling her name to get her to come over there. hitch slips off, but not before discreetly tapping your lower back in excitement; an unspoken ‘get him.’

“jean,” he introduces himself, extending his hand in a polite greeting. “i wanted to speak to hitch, but i wanted to talk to you, too. you are breathtaking.” his eyes drink you in, from head to toe, even though they’ve been roaming your frame since you first caught his attention. the heir simply cannot get enough. “but you get told that a lot, yes?”

“thank you.” your lips spread into a small smile, one hand slipping into his larger one as the other pulls off your sunnies, sticking one of the arms down into your top. “i’m ___” jean bore a lean swimmer’s build, dark navy beach shorts hung low on his hips, and his tanned skin decorated with a dusting of faint, brown freckles over his body. years of private villas and yachts, no doubt. he was impossibly tall, too, you find yourself having to gently tilt your head back to see his face fully. it was cute from afar, maturely handsome up close. was that a faint hint of a mustache? it was hot.

jean repeats your name slowly, enjoying the feeling of that line of syllables rolling off his tongue. “i’d love to get to know you more. ___, you’re so beautiful. i have to impress you somehow. name it,” his other hand comes up to rest of top of yours, successfully encasing it in a gentle hold. an excuse to touch you just a little bit more. “i’ll make it happen.”

your smile becomes a grin, and your dark eyes glint mischievously under your delicate lashes. one quick test, because where’s the fun in not initiating one? you just want to see what he’d say, pick at his brain. what sweet words will he spin from his golden cords now? “but jean,” you begin softly, “what if i was the type of girl that liked a man that took control? told me we were doing this, at this time, on this day, and in my prettiest red dress?”

“it’d be rude, ___, at least in my eyes, to so quickly assume i had a right to your time, and drag you around this way and that. allow me the privilege of occupying your time, and space.”

before you can catch it, one of your expertly threaded and sculpted eyebrows quirks up in mild surprise. you beckon him a bit closer to your face with a wave of your acrylics. “good answer,” you tease, honeyed voice playful and whispery. “phone? i can put my number in, and we can talk about how you can try to romance me when i have my schedules laid out in front of me.” you watch as he fishes the device out of his shorts pocket.

you were captivating afar, but up close with your tawny skin soft, glittery, and emanating an intoxicating vanilla scent, your dark eyes glistening with mirth and playfulness… it makes jean’s body go into some type of shock, his heart plummeting to his feet and his blood running cold but racing through his veins at the same time.

“well then,” you chime as you save your digits into the millionaire’s phone, the contact simply your name with no bells or whistles to adorn it. “i hope we can get to know each soon, mr. kirschtein.”

jean thinks that pearly white smile will be the death of him.

…

every year, no matter what, your father throws his annual christmas party. you long assumed that it brings him a special type of happiness because your normally humble father goes all out for them, each year being better than the last. he flies out the best chefs in the world to cook for hours, orders the tallest, greenest tree for the foyer, and has the house cleaned til someone could check their reflection in the perfect marble floors. when it comes to this, the man skimps on nothing.

you take it upon yourself to make the most of it, requesting custom design dresses from the most exclusive sewing tables over in Europe, shoes fresh from the runway. only the very best for you, the heiress, the crème de la crème, the girl who has never known the word no.

“dance with me?”

you had been absentmindedly swirling your wine glass by its delicate stem, attempting to place its origin (red, tart-like with its cranberry flavor and a strange orange bite near the end), when you’re approached. once you turn your head, you’re meet with striking green eyes and a sharp little smile.

“you looked bored, and that’s what these parties are for, right?”

eren yeager, the german-american son of grisha and carla yeager, 2nd generation genius neurosurgeon with a net worth in the 7 figures, and the just-as-talented, third generation wedding gown designer. according to the rumor mill, after graduating in the top of class in one of those ivy’s upstate, he gallivanted across the country (no, the world) as the not-so-favorable yeager son. of course, there are entirely too many eyes on the yeager clan for grisha to do too much of anything and a son can do no wrong in a doting mother’s eyes; so eren is left free to his disagreeable desires. everyone wonders how long that will last.

steely dark eyes and your naturally neutral face does nothing to deter him. you decide to indulge him, slipping your hand into his and raising up, allowing him the luxury of whisking you to the dance floor. “i guess i don’t see why not.”

“great.” his hand is soft and a little cool against your own, the woody, cedar notes of penhaligon the inimitable gently wafting off his skin and pressed shirt. unbeknownst to you, a few pairs of eyes bore into yeager’s back. the arrogance he has to whisk you away so early into the party, especially with it being his first one. if eren was the wiser, he’d revel in their envy.

there’s a handful of other couples waltzing across the floor when you two arrive. your fingers thread through his as his free hand finds a respectful place on your waist, blessed with the feeling of the smooth skin exposed by the opening in your dress.

no matter how much money your father makes, he’s an old black man at heart. old r&b plays from the expensive sound system he had installed, tevin campbell’s can we talk playing through the speakers. the irony of the situation isn’t lost on you. nonetheless, you hum nonchalantly to the tune and glide around the floor with your partner.

“i gotta ask, do you enjoy these things? or does your dad put you up to it?” your arm is held above your head and you’re spun around in a quick circle before being guided back to eren’s chest. face still impartial, you nod your head towards your five o clock, the wavy blonde strands dangling from your delicate updo tickling your face. a table teems with gifts for you and you only, bachelors from afar vying for a wisp of your attention with shiny, expensive gifts. they fail to realize that a girl like yourself isn’t so easily bought. but, it’s their money not yours, and few things in life bring you greater joy than pulling ribbon and wrapping paper from luxury brand boxes.

“of course i do. i’m not ‘put up’ to anything. i dress up, i get my presents. what isn’t there to love?” manicured hand splayed across the man’s back, you’re dipped towards the floor. you’re one to give credit where credit is due, yeager is a good dancer; the confidence in his movements isn’t a lame front and he maintains the delicate balance between taking the lead and dragging his poor partner around. since this is suddenly an interview, you have questions of your own. “when i have time to go through them, will i find your name on anything?”

“of course you will. be pretty damn rude to show up to a party empty handed. especially when it might be my only chance to get a gift for the princess.” a name your normally cringe and scrunch your nose at sounds surprisingly nice passing by his lips. he grinned boyishly. “no hints.”

“i can wait. for your sake, i hope it’s no ring. it’s going straight into the garbage.” just the thought of such a “present” makes your blood want to boil. who raised these “men”? i mean honestly, what brain dead fool buys a ring for a girl who didn’t even know his face? and expected her to wear it? you would sooner die and go to hell first.

“no way someone is that dumb. you’re fucking with me.”

“what do i have to lie for?”

"well, taking a look at these guests, i take it back. some of these bastards look dumb enough to pull a stunt like that." eren scans the array of guests over your shoulder, and you can't even feign offense for your father's sake. scanning over a guestlist for former flames and explaining why you didn't want them in attendance would take too much time, and you really didn't feel like explaining "relationship troubles" to your dad of all people. loved him as much as you did that really wasn't his business. besides, watching them shiver and skulk away from your disinterested and annoyed glance made up for everything. "are you a betting woman?"

"did you waste grisha's money on a degree in journalism?" your eyebrows furrow and eren laughs again.

"you're funny, ___. most of our peers aren't so witty. and if it so pleases her majesty, i want to bet on the odds of one of these dumbasses putting a ring under your tree." eren's green eyes stare down into yours, gleaming with playfulness, mirth, and confidence. "what do you say? someone does, and we can go on a date, just us two, and you can smile and laugh a little bit."

"and if there's no ring?"

"i'll leave you alone and fall in place in your long string of broken hearts."

luck has always been on your side. look at the family you were in born in, the riches that are your birthright! the universe has never dealt you a bad hand and surely wouldn’t start now. and worse case scenario, you hang out with one of the few men that can mark your plump lips twitch in the shadow of a giggle. “fine.” your brown eyes meet his green, and neither of the waver. “deal.”

several days later, gifts from around the globe surround you. handbags, shoes, dresses, envelopes bursting with cash; you’ll have to tell your dad you need some walls knocked down in your already spacious closet to make room for more. amidst all this, though, a godforsaken ring is gripped between your fingers. if looks could kill, it would melting and dripping from your grasp. holding it like it’s contaminated, you snap a picture to send to yeager:

‘i’m free the 3rd weekend and tuesdays.’

…

as temperatures rise again, you spend the next few months allowing jean kirstein and eren yeager the luxury of whisking you away when your schedule permits.

the former is a bit... old fashioned, in a good way! you're led off to slow paced, cozy dates; the two of you roaming italian streets, attending shows in their original opera houses, he never strayed you out of the bubble you two were born in. it was casual, soft, predictable in a good way.

eren on the other hand, spent money like it would burn through his pocket if it sat there too long. he spent money like a man who just felt its crispness in his palms and was addicted to the feeling, knowing deep down it'd never stop flowing for him. you're frequenting the night scene in your tight, revealing dress, his firm hands on your hips as you two grind to the pounding beats. shopping spree dates that lasted all day, if your hand so much as brushed it, it was bought, packaged up, and in the car. spontaneous flights abroad, stealing you away for weekends. it was exhilarating.

they both provide the things you're looking for. jean is the type of man you imagine yourself settling down with one day, when the whole young and turnt shtick melts away into something more domestic and slow paced. he has gentle hands and treats you so delicately, softly. his reliability will be something you can learn to lean on and need.

eren could possibly be that type of man too, but for now he has a fire, impulses that keep you oh so entertained. having everything in the world gets boring, and eren brings that spark that you crave.

you ruminate at your vanity. hair tied down and tucked away under a silky soft bonnet, you run your gua sha across your moisturized face, long sweeping strokes that end with a gentle tug. eye masks rest on your face, your feet clothed by a exfoliating mask, and a fluffy robe envelopes your body. you stare at your reflection, you're the only one who gets you.

you're really at a crossroads. you choosing between something is unheard of. you're ___, you get everything you deserve and want tenfold. you like jean, you like eren. the way they look at you with such adoration, how their hands and lips caress your body, the sweets words they declare, and how every promise they've made to you remains unbroken, oh how they must certainly feel the same for you.

as greedy as it may make you sound, you want both. your cake and to eat it too. two of your richest peers fawning over you day in and day out, them caring for you and you caring for them. them loving you, and you loving them. it’s a dream that will be your reality.

…

after a long day at sea on one of many jean’s yachts, the sun beaming down on not only the beautiful blue water but the two of you, entangled in each other’s arms, docks at the private harbor.

you’re running your fingers through your french curl braids as jean talks to one of the dock’s attendees, slightly sleepy from your sunbathing session. the gentle breeze of the day brings the smell of saltwater up to your nostrils and you hear seagulls squawking from spots on the wooden posts. obviously, a day at the water leaves you craving seafood, juicy lobster tails with a decadent pasta on the side. your daydreams of the soon to be dinner are interrupted by an extremely familiar “yo!”

heads turn, and it’s none other than eren striding across the dock’s walkway towards where you and jean are standing. his green eyes shine at the sight of you, the hot pink of your two piece bikini a perfect contrast to your skin and showing curves and bends he’d worship for the rest of his life. oh, and jean’s here too.

another woman might falter, her heart catching in her throat and sweat beading up on her flesh as her suitors stand before her, but you’re the epitome of calm, brown eyes smoothly meeting eren’s. there’s no ring on your finger, and besides, you know what you’re after right now.

“haven’t seen you in a while, yeager.” knowing it’d be cliche, jean fights against the urge to wrap a protective arm around your waist. “done gallivanting the world?”

“seen all there is to see kirschtein, and you say that like it’s insult. what use is money if it just sits in accounts collecting dust.” eren looks at you again, god you’re a sight for sore eyes. “especially when there’s a woman like her to spend it on.”

jean’s eyes can’t help but to roll. what a cornball. “well, good chat, but ___ and i are on a little time crunch. i’m taking her to niccolo’s, especially after being on the water.” his hand slips into yours, taking charge but not tugging you along. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like this side of him.

“well, now that you mention it, i could go for some niccolo’s too.” eren’s grin is shit-eating. what a cute dynamic these too have, one you know has a bit more bite to it when a lady isn’t in their presence. “how about i join? matter of fact, my treat.”

“that won’t be necessary.”

“i insist.”

“you two would argue all day if i let you,” you interrupt this small tussle, and now their attention is back on you. a manicured hand raises up to cover your small yawn. “like an old married couple.”

“it’s all in good fun,” eren’s shoulder nudges jean, and if jean had lasers for eyes, the youngest heir to yeager fortune would be a pile of dust before your feet. “we go way back.”

jean ignores him entirely, but eren finds it hilarious. “what he’s suggesting is insane, ___.”

you give a gentle shrug of your shoulder, coyness at the ready. “it’s nothing serious, it’s a lunch date between friends, and i bet you’d like to catch up.”

jean’s jaw tenses. he turns to you completely as eren looks on curiously. “i think it’s a sign that you say that, ___. i’ve been meaning to have this conversation with you for a while. yes, we are friends, but i want to be more with you.”

this moment, with the waves crashing across the dock, the sun illuminating the two of you, jean clasping your hands tight, would’ve been a soft, tender, picturesque one had it not been for eren’s booming laughter.

“oh, so now this is a pissing contest, huh, jean? well, since we’re confessing feelings, i have my own to speak for you.” his outburst breaks your gaze, and you and jean both turn in unison. “___, i want you to be my girlfriend, and i’ve felt this way for a while. i’ve been waiting for just the perfect moment, but i can’t let this jack-off take this one for himself right?” comically, you’re put between them, each of your hands in theirs.

“i…” this takes tact, a delicate way of stringing together words and honestly, with their eyes boring into yours, you find yourself falling just a touch short.

“i respect any decision you make,” jean assures.

“___, i will do anything for you,” eren promises.

any decision. anything.

you bit your bottom lip, hands minutely twitching in their clasp. you lean in neither direction, at the center of them. “any?”

and then there’s a beat of silence. and everyone’s looking at each other. this feels like a scene in a sitcom, something that should be accompanied with a laugh-track, but there’s no closed mouth that’s been fed.

“because in the time i’ve gotten to know both of you, i’ve begin to care for both of you. and i’ve made great memories with the two of you. i know i could make even more. i don’t value any time spent with you over each other’s.” your voice shakes just a tiny, tiny bit, vulnerability creeping in. “you too make me… so happy.”

eren cuts the silence first, ever the impulsive one. “i’ll do it.”

“you cut me off,” jean quickly interjects. eren really puts him on his toes, ignites an aggressive fire deep within, steps on just the right nerves. “i’m doing it too.”

“i said i’d do anything.”

“and i said i’d respect any decision.”

“okay!” you voice crashes down like a gavel. “okay. i’m glad that you two are hearing me out,” a smile tugs at your glossed lips, this feels so easy and lighthearted, a stark contrast from the seriousness you impose upon yourself. already, you feel yourself loosening up, because the two of them bring out the true, relaxed you like nothing else can. “but for our sanity the bickering needs to come down a notch before we all kill each other, yeah?”

two strong pairs of arms envelop you. it takes some effort, but you wrap your own around the two of them. three heads together, you find yourselves laughing. a weight eases of your shoulders, but not because you got your way, but because you know this is the death of a mask created by the circle you were born in. a mask that hides the love you can feel in an attempt to guard it.

“well, we won’t kill you.”

nov 13. 2021. nov 9. 2023. i nearly gave up. i almost threw in the towel. but goddammit she’s done. praise god.

#eren jaeger x black reader #eren x black reader #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x black reader #jean kirschstein x black reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean x reader #jean x black reader #🏙.aotmodern #🧸.aotfluff

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ye4gerism · 14 days

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𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑰𝑺 𝑭𝑨𝑰𝑹 𝑰𝑵 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑾𝑨𝑹 - 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍 𝐗 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

word count 1.8k

content warning light smut - in fact it’s not even that descriptive🧍🏾‍♀️

author’s note finally back after so long - i HAVE been writing though and have a story in my back pocket that im excited to drop! :3 this is the story i was looking for beta readers for - i didn’t get any 🧍🏾‍♀️ so i’m just dropping this first chapter to get interest. if not, i’ll just release a chapter at least weekly! this is also my attempt at mature content, so bear with me as we test this out. my requests are open - so feel free to read my guidelines on my pinned and hit my inbox 😝 update: part two !!

synopsis after the rumbling, you found yourself on your feet in your home town. you have a completely new life - you’re watching your country be built again and now you have a fiancé! what happens when a man from your past reaches out to you via letter?

853

His air fills your nose as you press against him. Your breaths are labored from placing your lips where you can, hands frantic.

The adrenaline lowers and you're both back to your senses. Your clothes are scattered everywhere on your bedroom floor. He lowers you onto the bed, his heavy hands resting on your lower back as you arch into the sheets. His lips love on your collarbones and find their way to your belly button. You shudder as he moves lower and lower until that wave of unfamiliar excitement washes over you.

You're breathing heavily as he places kisses all over your face and body. He takes care of you at the end; he makes sure you're clean, warm, and comfortable. You enjoyed your night; never had you thought you'd fall head over heels for a man you met just a few days ago but here you are.

You watched as he went between putting on his clothes and looking for items he was missing. Once he was fully clothed, it finally hit you that he didn't have plans to stay the night. Your body shot up from the bed. "Jean..." Your voice trails off, pleading.

He looks over his shoulder. He finishes his look by putting his fedora on. "You know I'd love to stay...but I have somewhere to be." Regret travels through Jean's voice. He turns away from you, pretending to fix his tie.

His shoulders are tense. He takes a few deep breaths before looking at you once more. "Tonight will be my last night seeing you." The satisfaction from the night immediately vanished. Your confusion is loud. Jean sighs as he continues to straighten himself out. "I can't explain it to you now but within the next few days...months, it'll all make sense..." In the soft candlelight in your bedroom, you can see the sadness in his eyes. You wanted to question him but considering the look on his face, you decide that it's probably best for you not to know.

You can't watch him. Jean opens the front door; under the door frame, he looks at your back. He opens his mouth but closes it instead. There was no point. He'd never see you again.

After his exit, you contemplated the possible explanation for his exit. It all didn't come together until weeks after the new year of 854 when Paradis launched its attack on Marley.

Spring 857

To whom it may concern,

I didn't think it'd be appropriate to address this letter with 'Dear Ms. L/N' considering our history and the events after but I still felt the need to reach out to you.

It's been four years now? Or at least approaching four years, considering our meeting was in the summer.

I owe you an explanation. I am a Subject of Ymir from Paradis Island. At the period that we met, I was on a trip with other Subjects; it was our first time off of the island. We were there, curious about our enemies and how our military forces should move forward. I met you and you know the rest of that story. Other than my constant visits with you, I and a few others sat through countless meetings hearing about how we Subjects couldn't be "cured" or "forgiven" of our crimes.

Meeting you wasn't on my agenda. No one knew about you. During that time. I felt like the world felt like it was crashing down on me and then came you, my short-lived saving grace.

Because of my actions during the Rumbling, my home, Paradis, has outcasted me and considered me a traitor for being one of the pieces that stopped it. I live life as a Peace Ambassador now. I've been all over the place - helping rebuild cities and building connections with refugees who are still working on getting their lives back. I do live in Paradis from time to time. My mother still lives there.

I learned about you from asking around. I'm so grateful that you evaded the Rumbling. I don't know how I would feel if you passed.

Longing to see you,

Jean Kirstein, Alliance Peace Ambassador

Mister Ambassador,

Hi. Thank you for reaching out to me. It's been a very long time and I've struggled. Went from being a woman who traveled regularly to being trapped because of the bombs and titans that were dropped everywhere. I am lucky that I have made it out with my life.

Now that I have a proper explanation, I don't feel as upset as I did seeing your letter in my mailbox. I am glad you are safe for the most part.

I am with someone. Set to be married within the next few months if life in Anahg, or the Southern Nations as the world calls it now, improves slightly more. My fiancé's name is Sebas Abe. Considering that you're from Paradis, I don't know how much you know, but he was an important political figure and diplomat for Hizuru. He was just at the wrong place at the wrong time during, what you call, the Rumbling. He's a part of the rebuilding process here in Anahg but he misses his diplomat job dearly. He loved traveling the world, so he told me.

I'm curious, how is life in Paradis? Considering you're a traitor?

Y/N L/N

Miss L/N,

Beautiful last name. I didn't mean to come on so hard in my first letter. Congratulations on your engagement, you deserve it. I am also sorry about everything you've been through. If you don't mind me asking, what happened on your end? If it's too invasive of a question, I certainly understand. It's just something that peaks my interest considering what I do for work.

Anahg and the rest of the Southern Regions have yet to be touched by our growing alliance. I guess the focus is to rebuild the relationship between Marley and Paradis and gain the trust of other countries that weren't destroyed by the Rumbling.

If your fiancé is still interested in ambassador work, I don't mind putting in the good word for him. I have close connections to those in Hizuru, one of Paradis's allies.

Life on the island is hard. I don't get hassled a lot in my hometown; my mother was an important part of some of our neighbors' lives. I guess they feel wrong treating me differently. But I will say that I feel lonelier. I will never share a barrack, train, or be a part of a military branch again. I'm the age where I'm supposed to be at least courting someone or going out with a small group of friends but with, one, members of the Alliance being so busy and, two, my status as a traitor makes it hard to come across people my age.

I don't leave Trost, my home, to visit other parts of the island unless I really need to. Getting on transportation for work is quicker when no one is interested in speaking to you.

Jean Kirstein, Alliance Peace Ambassador

Mister Ambassador,

Well, if you're so curious, Mr. Ambassador, it's something I'd rather not relive - That's how my experience went. Eren Yeager ruined my life. I don't blame him for being angry; if the whole world was laughing at my existence, I'd bring Hell onto Earth too. But that doesn't take away that my life was taken away. Since then, I'm fortunate enough that I was able to come back home to Anagh, that it's growing once again, and that I have someone by my side. My life isn't the best but it's better than it was days before the Rumbling.

I'm sorry that your community has turned on you that way. Loneliness is one hell of a disease. I'd rather be berated than silently deal with my own sadness. I hope that doesn't sound offensive.

Y/N L/N

Miss L/N,

No, that isn't offensive. I sometimes wish my life was as vocal as my other friends but at the same time, I'm grateful for the dirty looks. I just wish I wasn't so in my head sometimes.

What do you mean your life now is better than the one before the Rumbling? Are you insinuating something in your previous letter? The way I remember it, I sure damn well made those last few days memorable and exciting. Your body told me so itself.

I understand I left suddenly and inappropriately but that doesn't mean you get to dismiss and deny what we had.

I thought about you too many times as I traveled. When I was alone, I thought of you and your silky skin and your pretty lips. Your body against mine.

You could be ignoring my correspondence, for the sake of your dear Sebas, but we both know why you continue to write back.

Jean Kirstein

Fall 857

Mister Ambassador,

I am married now - since the summer.

Leave it in the past, Mr. Ambassador.

Hopefully, you can continue to write me as a friend and not as a lover.

Thank you,

Mrs. Y/N Abe

Dear Mrs. Abe,

Oh, forgive me for defending my honor. I can't have you on the other side of the world trashing my character. I was hurt by my initial assumption - that you haven't confirmed.

Congratulations.

Does your husband still want to work with the Alliance? How is Anahg - from the view of someone living there? There is an opening if your husband is still interested. Negotiations with Marley are taking somewhat of a positive turn. I don't think they're completely on our side but with the help of Hizuru, we'll reach common ground.

I've been courting here and there but nothing's stuck.

I don't mind being your friend, but that also may mean that I'll stop my correspondence.

Jean Kirstein, Alliance Peace Ambassador

Mister Ambassador,

What assumption do I have to confirm? Do you want me to be direct?

Thinking of you reminds me of what followed. The confusion and loss I felt. And the loneliness.

But, Mr. Ambassador Kirstein, ever since you've written me, when my husband is out doing his work and I'm alone, I find myself, regretfully, thinking about you and those nights before you left. And I hate it...and enjoy it. I hate it so much.

I am supposed to be loyal to my husband and yet here you are. What are the odds that you'd reenter my life? And you're not even physically by my side. I crave you. I'd do anything to have you in my proximity one more.

But for the sake of my image and my marriage, leave it in the past.

Mrs. Y/N Abe

Mrs. Abe,

Thank you for your honesty. It truly is a shame that your husband and my work are limitations. If things were in my control, I'd stop writing this letter and would be on my way to Anahg to satisfy you once more. I owe you a proper apology after my absence all these years.

I want to honor you and forget everything happened but it seems impossible now. Can you really go back to your normal life, being Mr. Sebas Abe's wife, after what you've just confessed to me?

Please, call me Jean.

Jean Kirstein, Peace Ambassador

#black reader #black yn #aot x black reader #aot x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean x black!reader #jean x reader #jean kirschstein x black reader #jean kirstein x black reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtien #jean kirstein #x black reader

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heejayy · 2 years

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Eren Y. || Why we should have a baby…

Warning • mentions sex? Unexpected pregnancy,

Genres • crack, lil angst, fluff

Pairing • Eren Yeager x black fem! reader

Wc: 732

“Ok boom here’s why we should have a baby” you exclaimed turning on your tv to show the PowerPoint you made. You extended your pointer pointing to the title screen with a wide grin on your lips.

“What is this y/n?” Eren asked looking unimpressed. For the past two weeks, you’ve had a severe case of baby fever. Everywhere you go know you can’t help but see a baby and then you proceed to bug Eren to put one in you.

“Since begging you won’t work I’ll show you the pros and cons of having a baby. And we’ll see which one outways the other” you smiled clicking the next button on the computer so he could see it on the TV.

“We’ll start with the pros” you smiled “as you know I’ve always said I wanted a kid and maybe even more than one. I love kids- well sometimes but they can be really great. Also, they’re adorable! With their chubby cheeks and cute little feet and noses and eeekk,” you squealed at the thought of having one of your own.

“Ahem” Eren coughed trying to bring your attention back to him. “This isn’t very convincing sweetie” you sighed clicking the next slide which had ‘Money’ typed in bold green letters.

“Ok now I’m listening” he smirked sitting up from his man-spreading position, you just rolled your eyes. “Money is a big issue when having children but! We both come from pretty well-rounded family’s who would die to have a new baby to spoil, I mean the last baby my family had was me and I’m pushing 30!”

“Babe you’re 24” Eren deadpanned as he corrected you, “same thing” you shrugged waving him off.

“Anyways back to the point, they would spoil them rotten! And give us” you said pointing between you and him “everything we need to take care of them plus more, even your mom said she’s ready for us to have children.”

“Y/n my mom wanted you to have my baby the day she met you” you snorted. “She loved you before you spoke two words to her” he chuckled reminiscing on the time he brought you to meet his parents.

“Ok ok, next slide” you said pressing the next button which was tilted ‘A loving family ’ with a heart next to it. “As you know my mom and dad got divorced when I was young, I stayed with my mom but she was never around much due to work and when she was she was just pestering me about how much of a failure I am compared to her or my siblings” Eren’a face fell, he was well aware you didn’t have a good relationship with your mom which made him quite sad.

“My dad, on the other hand, he is great and I love him but he left and made a new family- what I’m trying to say is…maybe the only reason I want a baby is to build something I never had which was a loving close family. I want to make our baby feel the love I wish I received. I want to love them gently not neglect them and say it’s tough love.” Eren got up from the couch and walked over to you.

“Awe baby come here” he brought you in for a tight hug and kissed your head. He rocked you back and forth letting you cry silently in his arms.

“Are you trying to guilt trip me into giving you a baby?” He asked jokingly. You chuckled pulling away wiping your tears.

“No I would never do that!” you sniffled “I know I’ve been annoying the last few days I just didn’t know how to tell you I was ready to take the next step in our relationship.” He nodded wiping your cheeks.

“Alright let’s compromise” he took your hand guiding you to the couch “let’s say in the next 6 months if you still wanna have a baby we will, it’ll be an anniversary gift” he joked making you to laugh again.

“Alright deal” You said shaking his hand. You sat in his lap as he held you kissing your cheek and forehead repeatedly.

“Oh and by the way…I’m pregnant” you blurted out as you got up running to the bedroom.

“What- HUH?!”

AOT Masterlist

©heejayy 2022 — any reposts or translations of my works are strictly prohibited unless granted permission.

#aot modern au #aot scenarios #eren yeager x black reader #x black reader #heejayy #eren yaeger x reader #aot x you #aot x black reader #aot fluff #eren yeager fluff #eren yeager imagines #connie springer fluff #jean kirschstein x black reader #reiner x black reader #hange x you #levi x fem!reader #eren angst #aot masterlist

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briology · 10 months

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DARL+ING

pairing: jean x black! reader

genre: fluff, jean being in love

inspired by: darl+ing by seventeen (stan svt!)

cw: none!

a/n: i love svt so much yall don't understand

you know without you, i'm so lonely

he hated seeing you leave. whether it was you going back home to take care of a few things, or when it was going to work. he didn't care why you leaving, he hated it. hated it so damn much. cause all he's thinking is about when you are going to return back in his arms. he couldn't take being away from you for long.

when you're not here, 911 calling

he sits alone in his room, looking at his phone, waiting for it to have some sort of reaction. he wanted to make sure that you are ok, that you're safe. he knows that you are fine by yourself because he has seen it. But he couldn't help but thinking that something bad happened to you. yes, he's that damn dramatic. but all his worries wash away when you text him. he didn't care about what you texted, as long as he knew that you were still with him.

Into your heat again, i'm diving

you loved jean, and jean loved you. there was never a time where you two imaged being without each other. it's like no matter how many times you two saw each other, you would have the same feelings that you had since the beginning of the relationship. he never fails to make your heart flutter in ways that no one could ever make it.

darling, you, darling, you, baby

jean had realized that he had fallen deeply in love with you. there was no way out, and he was glad there wasn't. he needed to be with you, you needed to be with him, it was common knowledge. it was you, it had always been you, it will always be you that is the one for him. the day you came into the picture was the best day of his life. he hated not being with you, he hated it when you left him. but when you returned to him, all his worries washed away. why? because his darling was finally back into his arms.

#jean x reader #jean x black reader #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirschstein x black reader #jean #jean kirchstein #jean fluff #black writer #attack on titan #anime #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x black reader #bri's works<3

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bleubrri · 2 years

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⟡ ゚ ៹ it’s a beautiful night — jean kirstein

22:14pm

wheezy laughter fills the room as you both collapse back onto the couch. the strewn around bottles of mulled wine and half-discarded carton of eggnog are what you’re choosing to blame your acceptance at jeans offer to dance on. it’s not that you don’t like dancing with him- you love it actually- but the boyish spontaneity that usually makes you laugh and roll your eyes was nothing but endearing when your adorable wine-drunk boyfriend had insisted on a competition to the music of the montage as Elf played on the tv screen.

“i totally won!” you say, breathless and smiling and in love.

“cartwheels aren’t dancing, you’re just a show off.” you pinch at his cheek that’s dusted pink from his efforts in parading around the coffee table with his legs in the air.

jean sighs and accepts defeat, if not just to see your eyes shine as you pump your fists in the air in obnoxious triumph. when your fists flail a little too close to his face he’s quick to grab them and lift your hands to graze his lips over your knuckles. he kisses your pulse-point on the inside of your wrist, making his way up your arms.

“and what––” he begins to pepper featherlight kisses along your collarbone, igniting flames in your chest, “does my oh so humble winner wish for their prize?”

you release your hands from the warmth of his to press down on his chest and hover over him, situating yourself over his clothed cock.

“i can have anything?” you blink at him innocently.

“anything.” he whispers, craning his neck to catch your lips in a dizzying kiss. jean thinks that your kisses have to be laced with valium, addictive and over far too soon. he groans and chases your mouth for his next hit when you pull away a fraction. your chuckle is light and your breath warm against his ear as you lean into him.

the moan of his name has him twitching in his pants as you press your core against him, “jean i want––” he’s rolling his hips and humming to urge you to speak before he starts stating what he wants. his breath hitches as you lick a slow stripe from from his jugular to just behind his ear, his heartbeat thrumming faster under the heat from your tongue.

“i want cake.” you state, pulling away to stare down at him, your eyes sparkling and lips pulled up in mischief.

“you–– what?” he pouts, incredulous and horny and pretty sure no supermarket is open this late on christmas eve to satiate your cravings.

he audibly groans when you rise off of the couch to stop straddling him, taking your warmth and ignoring his desire. jeans hands reach out for you but you’re quick to sidestep him and make your way towards the entryway.

you take on a singsong tone, “c’mon jeanie! shoes on, your winner wants cake!” and jean shamelessly stares at your ass as you bend down to tie your converse laces. he glowers at you with no real malice as you snicker and throw a scarf at his face and his jacket over the half-hard bulge in his pants.

“you’re lucky i love you..”

22:50pm

“damn.” you frown at what’s shaping up to be your third failed attempt to claim your prize as you stare at the cake-less shelves of the 24h gas station. the door chimes as you exit, catching jeans attention and he turns to face you. you perk up at the sight of him–– his orange beanie making his hair spike against his forehead, matching scarf wrapped up to his nose- courtesy of you- and his long eyelashes dusted with the light snowfall that surrounds you. he’s too cute for his own good.

you sigh dramatically and bury your head in his chest, wrapping your hands around him as you feel his chin come to rest atop your head. “think i’m ready to call it a night..” a low hum in his chest rumbles against your cheek.

he’s silent for a moment, his arms a comforting weight draped around your waist. “how bad d’you want that cake?” he asks carefully.

“more than anything in the world, jean.” you deadpan.

his fingers begin to toy with the hem of your shirt, exposing your skin to the crisp, blue air and making you shiver. he clears his throat and you look up at him, but his eyes dart to the floor in a shy manner that’s unlike him. he mutters lowly, “there’s this chapel on the boulevard,” and your brows raise. “they, uh, they give out cake to the newly wed couples? like vegas! but it’s like,” he swallows the fear that feels like marbles in his throat and continues, “it’s like really good cake, y’know? i’m talking costco sheet cake level good, babe it’s like––”

“jean.” you whisper, feeling him tighten his grip around your waist.

“it’s just a dumb idea but i mean… we could always get it like, annulled or whatever in the morning? i got maybe 40 bucks on me? probably enough for a marriage licence but it’d be one expensive cake––”

“jean.” you say, firmly enough to bring his eyes back up to you. the tops of his cheeks are flushed and you can tell it’s not from the cold. tilting your head to place a chaste kiss to his lips, you feel him sigh against you.

“are you asking me to marry you, you idiot?”

“i’m… giving you an ultimatum for cake.” he huffs.

the absurdity of the situation isn’t lost on you, despite the lingering buzz from the decent amount of spiced wine still swimming in your system, but maybe it’s the devestating, hopeful look in his eyes or the fact that you’re desperately fucking in love with him that has you saying,

“yes.”

“yes?”

“yes.” you start to laugh, but jean is quick to swallow it down. his hands are cold as he cups your face, but with his tongue against yours and your blood fizzling with want in your veins, you’ve never felt warmer.

23:01pm

“jean we don’t have time for this!” you call after him as he exits the car to jog back to the gas station door. it’d been all of 3 minutes since you’d gotten ‘engaged’ and he’d started the car, beginning to dive before slamming on the breaks and shouting, “rings!” you barely processed his train of thought before he was leaping from his seat and fishing for coins in his jacket pocket.

craning your neck out the window, you see his tall figure crouched by the kids’ toy machines and can’t help the smile that fights its way onto your face. “you’re ridiculous.” you say as he clambers back into the car, grinning and opening his large palms to reveal four little plastic packets.

“pick two.” he commands “one from each hand.”

you sigh, reminding him that the chapel closes in an hour, but nevertheless reach out to choose two. the giddy ripping of plastic reveals the packets contents: for you, a cherry ring pop and a ‘sapphire’ ring and for jean, blue raspberry and a ‘diamond’.

the plastic rings are comically small, with yours unable to go past the knuckle of your ring finger and jeans just about fitting his pinky. he seems more interested in the sweets anyway, “if you kiss me long enough after these our tongues’ll be purple.” he smirks and wiggles his eyebrows, his diamond clad hand coming to rest dangerously high on your thigh.

you swat at his arm but make no real move to remove his hand. “just drive.”

23:36pm

the chapel is pretty much what you’d expect from a vegas-style hole in the wall on christmas eve, absolutely deserted. you actually startled the receptionist who was on the edge of sleep when you’d barrelled in with a gust of wind on your tails. he’d sighed and handed you some paperwork that you both promptly filled out, taken the grand total of 37.40 from jean who so chivalrously offered up his 40 dollars, and gestured to the hallway where you were now waiting. holy shit you were waiting to get married.

jean was sucking on his ring pop, his lips already tinged blue as you fidgeted on the hard seat of the chair. he said nothing, just reached over and laced his fingers with yours and began running his thumb in soothing lines along your hand.

“got your vows ready?” he pipes up.

“oh yeah. all here.” you tap your temple. “you?”

“uh huh. wanna hear ‘em?”

you nod and he says your name, becoming serious.

“you are… the apple of my eye. the ache in my loins. the throb in my–– ow!” the whack to the back of his head echoes through the empty corridor.

“you’re insufferable.” you mutter, bringing your ring pop to your lips to hide your smile.

“and you’re stuck with me.” he wiggles his pinky in your face–– you wouldn’t be surprised if that ring is permanently stuck on his finger, “foreverrr.”

you suppose he meant for it to sound teasingly menacing, but it just makes your smile widen and heart race and brain flood with everything you love about him.

23:59pm

the cake is painfully mediocre. you’re both huddled on a bench opposite the chapel, overly sweet icing coating your gums as you wait for the clock to strike.

“so, dear husband, care to explain yourself? what happened to ‘costco sheet cake level good’?” you say, pushing the remains of the sponge around on the paper plate with your fork.

“details of the cake may have been… greatly exaggerated.”

“any particular reason why?” you’re fishing for something and he knows it.

“maybe i just enjoy lying to my dear wife.” you pout and jean can’t help but let his stare linger on your lips, a little cracked from the cold and stained cherry red.

“i think,” you start, tossing the sad excuse for wedding cake into the bin behind you, “you just really wanted to marry me.”

he pinches your nose playfully that has you trying to resist him when he pulls you to his chest. a moment of weakness as the chiming of the clock makes you jump results in him pulling you flush with him, his lips barely touching yours as he whispers, “maybe.” his admission has you smiling and closing the distance between you.

00:00am

the clock continues to ring, 12 consecutive chimes that jean pulls away with as they conclude. his eyes are glassy as he blinks away the snowflakes that litter his lashes and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“merry christmas, mrs kirstein.” <3

a/n: now you might be thinking, a christmas fic? in a july heatwave? yes, shut the fuck up!!!

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conniesluvrgyal · 5 months

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Yallll,i been workin on sumn.....well some thingzzz.

Police officer Jean Kirstein x black reader

Domesticated husband König x pregnant black reader!

Stalker Simon Ghost Riley x black reader

#konig smut #konig x black reader #jean kirschstein #jean kirschstein x black reader #simon riley x black reader #simon ghost riley x black reader

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rumisgf · 4 months

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PASSENGER PRINCESS - connie springer x black!reader

summary: your... best friend takes you on your weekly late nights drives. but, this night is different: both of you are aware of the tension between y'all even though neither of you address it- until tonight. warnings: marijuana usage, best friends to lovers, eventual smut, yk car sex, french kissing

you just had got off work, and today really wore you out. it was the usual: your manager was getting on your nerves, there was this lady who tried to argue with you over the counter, and you had to train probably the most incompetent teen who had just got hired. all you knew is you need a blunt and a nap.

as you're laying on your bed ready to kick your clothes off, your phone buzzes. a text from connie, probably the only person you have patience for right now. it reads 'you home?' to which he knows you are, he found out when you get off work (because he listens, of course. totally didn't do his own research before you even told him directly). the minute you text back he's calling your phone, and you roll your eyes a bit 'cause you already know he wants to bother you now.

"hello, sir?" you can hear him smack his lips.

"man, you not even tired! i'm 'bout to head out anyway, just wanted to see what you was doin' right now."

"what, you trynna pick me up?"

"don't ask dumbass questions, you want me to pull up or not?"

you smile to yourself, and get up to change out your work clothes. "mmm... yea. c'mon."

"bet." *click*

soon enough, you see his car pull up from your apartment window and make your way out the door. as you walk down the stairs, you can't help but grin to yourself. no matter how bad of a mood you're in you would never miss an opportunity to chill with his fine as- you mean, the only tolerable dude you know.

you open the car door, the smell of weed hitting your nose. "yooo!" connie greets you with a smile, and a wood in hand. he already had started to roll up before you even made it to the car.

"nigga, what did i tell you 'bout smoking outside here?! if i get in trouble, it is not gonna be my fault!"

"you'on wanna hotbox?" he asks obviously, making you roll your eyes as you buckle in your seatbelt.

he starts the car up and places one hand on the wheel, ready to find an empty parking lot. he notices how you stare outside the window, hand resting on your cheek. "work piss you off?" you simply reply with, "why?" and he says "you not talkin' like usual and actin' all bothered."

he was right, work did piss you off. but for some reason, he was making you especially nervous today. "ion know, just my manager was on dick today. and i had to train this lil' boy he was pissing me off too. i know he a kid but damn, this why i ain't wanna be a trainer in the first place. i already work overtime most of the week i don't be having the energy for that shit, y'know? he keep giving me all these things to do like my schedule not already tight and i'm busting my ass just to still not get promoted yet." it was nice to get stuff of your chest like this because it really calmed you down. better yet, he knew how to calm you down. he knows how to listen while making sure you're still having a good time.

he eventually pulls up to a gas station. "well, don't let that shit bother you. you probably gon get promoted anyway cause you actually do your job. besides, if that don't happen, i been telling you to quit anyway." getting out the car, he pulls his hoodie over his head and comes to open your car door. "now c'mon." "i don't want noth-"

"i said c'mon, mama, i'm getting you snacks! and i want some too i'm not leavin' you in here."

having no argument, you get out and walk with him inside. since it is late, you're the only ones in there and there's only one cashier in sight. the mid aged lady smiles at the two of you as she notices the door bell ring. you both grab a drink of choice from the freezer and make your way to the counter. he sees your eyes dart to a bag of chips, and he picks it up to place it down before you grab his hand. "you don't have to, con." he ignores you, sliding it to the cashier to scan. "oh, stop it, you act like i haven't payed for your hair before."

"your total is $12.59"

he pulls a 20 out his pocket, handing it to her a taking his change. as you both leave, she says "by the way, you two are such an adorable couple!" but, before you can correct her, connie replies

"thank you, ma'am!"

now, you're both sat in the car laughing at the interaction that just happened. "thank you? for real?" you say through giggling. connie simply shrugs, "i ain't wanna make her feel bad!" in your mind, you began to question his response still. why didn't he say no? "i mean shit, you don't look bad so." he stops, furrowing his eyebrows and side eyeing you. "oh, if i was ugly you woulda had a issue?" you look to the side as he pretends to start to be offended. "well, yeah duh." he laughs in response, you following after. "alright, dude."

eventually, he pulls into a random parking lot. you see a bench and a sign, so you assume this is just some park in the area. luckily, no one's here anyway. connie's hand finds the back of your headboard as backs up into a spot. "found this spot like yesterday, nobody really around at night. plus it's chill, i wanna talk to you and ion wanna be bothered seeing other people around."

you can't help but focus on his jawline as he looks back, barely paying attention to the words coming out his mouth. "you even listenin' to me?" he snaps you back into reality. you turn back in your seat as you smack your lips and he chuckles, settling back into his seat. he picks up from where he started, rolling a blunt for the both of you. once he finishes he pulls out a lighter from his glove department, bringing it to his mouth. your eyes pay good attention to his eyes glancing down at the wood, his fingers, his mouth as he inhales, and the way he looks at you after he puffs out smoke.. god he looked fine.

"damn, you gon' take it?" he asks before you even get the chance to zone out completely. you mutter "my fault" before taking it and bringing it to your own mouth. now, its his turn to examine your movements. you don't even notice him eyeing you: the way your acrylics look as you hold it, your makeup still looking nice after a full day of work, your closed lids, the way you're slightly titling your head back... fine as fuck he thinks to himself. he takes off his hoodie as his body warms up. when you look back at him, you see his toned arms in the moonlight and your face begins to heat up. "you feel better, ma?" you nod in response, attempting to contain yourself. however, he can't help but examine you and you begin to notice. "so, what you wanna talk abt?"

he uncharacteristically fiddles with his thumb and looks down. "well shit..." you take another hit, still making eye contact with him. "after that thing just happened it kind of reminded me even more," he takes a pause. he puts his hand out, and you pass the blunt to him before he continues. he brings it to his lips, slowly inhaling. then as he exhales,

"what if we was a couple?"

you take a second, nearly being took out your high that barely started coming over you. "oh.. uhm-"

"not like that, just what if, y'know?" he quickly interjects to save himself from possible rejection. "yeah of course....well, ion know like i said you not ugly." you end up shrugging. sure, you guys are friends, but it would be a complete lie to say you haven't thought about it yourself. you had just never planned on voicing it. "well, what do that mean?"

"i don't know, you not ugly. if we talking hypothetically you my type i guess." you explain, avoiding saying how you actually feel. "i guess is crazyyy." he leans back in his seat, throwing one of arms behind his head as he takes another hit. "so, i'm yo type?"

you feel yourself start to smile. "now what do you mean, sir?" he simply laughs. "i think you pretty too, y/n." his statement catches you offguard, and you find yourself speechless. he only laughs more and looks straight at you, now half-lidded with red hued eyes. "you ain't notice me starin' at you for how many times you been in my car? and you the only girl i really be having in my car, you basically my passenger princess."

the name passenger princess makes you feel warm in a place that you are not willing to acknowledge. "...well, i been starin' at you too. surprised you ain't notice" he's quiet for a second, then looks down at his lap with a smirk. "i did." you smack his arm and he's now in a fit of laughter as he relishes in your embarrassment. after a minute, he smiles at his eyes cant help but focus on your lips. "what?"

he takes a minute to think over the choices he's about to make. and after some thinking, he comes to a conclusion. "...c'mere, mama."

you stare at him for a second, questioning if this is a good idea. but, the way his arms look after removing his hoodie and the way he's manspreading is definitely blinding your judgement. so, you find yourself climbing in his lap just slightly raised up enough so you're not actually sitting on him. but, his hand wraps around your waist and makes you sit down. "aw c'mon, why you bein so shy? it's just me." and he's right. this isn't even the first time you've been this close to him or sat on his lap. your friendship has very little... boundaries. or better yet, you two have a closer platonic relationship than others.

he stares back at you as he raises the blunt in his hand to your lips. you take a hit, blowing smoke directly in his face. you both smile and laugh softly, connie biting his bottom lip. "you so goddamn fine, i swear."

all you respond with a soft giggle as you lean closer into his chest. he wraps an arm around your shoulders and holds eye contact. finally, you both slowly lean in, closing the distance between your faces. his lips instantly catch yours and set a steady pace. he tastes like soda and indica, but right now that is so delicious to you. subconsciously, you slowly move your hips on his laps in rhythm with the movement of your lips on his. he lowly grunts and pulls away. "woah, what you trynna do?" he mumbles, eyeing your body on top of his. "shit, i been holding in a lot, con... i'm on what you on."

his eyes find your thighs, then comes back up to your red, lazy eyes. "you sure, ma?" you bite your lip, "yeah... you want to?" a soft chuckle leaves his lips and he leans back in, centimeters away from your lips. "i been wantin' to do so much to you, y/n, i wanna make you mine.."

his lips crash onto yours and his hands immediately find your ass, massaging the plush skin hidden by your leggings. your tongue finds it way into his mouth and he matches you, tongues dancing with each other. you can feel his boner from under you, and you hope he can't feel you throbbing on top of him. he pulls away again, and tugs at the hem of your leggings.

"can i move these, baby?" he asks. you nod, and he pulls them down to your knees. you shimmy them off knowing you're better off without them restricting your ankles. in return, he scoots you back and he unzips his pants, pulling them down to reveal his stiff hard dick under his boxers. nearly drooling, you eagerly move back up and kiss him again. you grind your hips on his lap once more, moaning into his lips at the feeling. his hand go to guide you and kneed on your ass. he groans into the kiss, you making him harder than he already was.

then, you pull away. he takes a second to look down and notices the wet spot forming on his boxers. he smirks to himself, "damn, baby you that wet?" you look away, still grinding on him. he laughs to himself at your reaction then slides his hand down, pulling your underwear to the side. this thumb finds your clit and you gasp at the sudden contact. he rubs slowly, eyes glued down. he pays attentions to the way your hips begin to buck upward at his touch. then, he slowly slides two fingers into your entrance. "o-oh fuck-!" you moan out. looking back up to you, he licks his lips and focuses on you. "like that, mama?"

you hum in response, eyes closing with pleasure. grinning, he curls his fingers and earns a louder moan sliding out your lips like butter. the sound of you and your wetness as he plays with you is music to his ears. "c-connie..." as you moan out for him, he perks up teasingly. "hm, baby?" you open your mouth to speak, and cut yourself off with another moan. "i- fuck.. i need you"

"need what, babygirl?"

you whine, knowing he's making you say it. "..need you t' fuck me, bae.."

with that, he slips his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and keeping eye contact as he licks them clean. while he does this he lets you pull him out his boxers, dick springing out. you already had a feeling, but he's big. you stroke him slowly, taking notice of how he squirmed in your touch. "fuck, y/n.." his hips buck upward and his lids close for a second, slightly throwing his head back. you end up throwing off your underwear, leaving you in only your hoodie you left the house in.

"take yo time, okay?" he says softly as you lift up. you nod, and finally begin to sink down onto him. he bites his lips as he feels your slick coating him as you slide his dick into you. your hands grip his shoulders as you sit all the way down, feeling every inch of him. you both moan at the feeling. after a few seconds, you start moving up and down on him. your head falls into the crook of his neck, moaning onto his skin and sending chills down his spine. "f-fuck...baby.."

his hands find your hips, following your movements. "damn baby, just like that.. ride that shit.." you pick up the pace and your grip on him tightens. he now goes to grips your ass, helping move you up and down on all his length. "fuck-! 's so big.." you're whining and moaning into his shoulder, working yourself on him.

connie starts to move his hips in unison with you. "yeah, you like that shit? he starts grinning, looking at your face buried into him. "mhm.. love this dick.." your slick is staining his boxers even more as it drips down while you coat his dick in arousal. "i know, mama, this pussy takin' me so well... you wet f' me." he smacks your ass, earning a small gasp out of you. "look at me, ma."

you lift your head and he smiles at you, admiring your current state. "sexy as fuck.." he moves to massage your hips before pecking your lips. "love you, princess." your heart flutters, as well as your pussy, and your lips form a small smile. "love you, pa" you circle your hips on him and he hums with satisfaction, curses falling out his mouth. "yeah, just like that.. so fuckin' good.."

you ride him with intent, doing it like you had always did in your fantasies. "you feel so good.." you moan, your hole gripping him tighter. "fuck.. i know, ma, i know. takin' this dick so well."

a knot begins to form in your stomach and your eyes squint again as you look back at him. "baby, 'm gonna cum.." you moan, now moving up and down faster. in response, he begins fucking up into you at the same pace.

"mhm c'mon, nut all on this dick." your moans grow in volume and you become putty in his hands. "fuckfuckfuck!" you cry out as your eyes close shut, and you're slamming your ass down on him as you chase your high. he moans as he watches you, holding you tighter. "yeah, there you go mama..." soon, you begin writhing on him as you cream on top of him, painting his dick white. you can feel the strings of your own cum as he continues to thrust into you, reaching his own orgasm. "c-connie! fuck!"

"'m close baby, 'm close, i know." his breathes are frantic and his head is thrown back. "holy fuck, baby.. shit-!" he pulls out as he jerks himself, releasing himself on your ass. you both lay on each other, out of breath as you come down. he looks at you, a smile growing on his face. "don't you go fuckin' somebody else like that, you mine now."

you smile back tiredly, leaning in to kiss him. this kiss is slow, and loving. you pull away, "and you mine."

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chrollohearttags · 6 months

Text

character boards • musician au edition

eren jaeger aka EJTheDon

armin artlert aka ArminHammer

jean kirschtein aka j.kirschtein

1K notes · View notes

euaphora · 9 months

Text

ATTACK ON TITAN X LINKS

⤷ EREN YEAGER

breeding kink (my favorite vid!!) | him being mean | nerdy boyfriend | bimbo!reader

⤷ ARMIN ARLET (my man,my husband, my bf)

⤷ REINER BRAUN

he just wants your love | somnophilia | give it | hotel

⤷ JEAN KIRSTEIN

sixty-nine | feel good | on vacation | easy

⤷ CONNIE SPRINGER

laps | his favorite position | morning | rest

⤷ LEVI ACKERMAN

side to side | let me play | nature | rough

extras :

for the girlies with glasses

girlies who wear eyeliner

dom!reader

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90ekz · 4 months

Note

do you think you could write hcs of jean with a softspoken gf? nobody writes for him fr it’s so sad

an! i love jean and this concept anon ! im a soft spoken girl myself so this really hits home 🥹 i hope you enjoy!!

jean as your boyfriend <3

SFW

when you two first started dated, jean was convinced that he hit the lottery. you were everything he ever wanted and he loved a girl that kept to herself.

jean sometimes takes you to wing houses & burger joints and watches with a huge smile as you try to order your food against the chaos of the other people conversing around you. you weren’t the biggest fan of having to yell in public, but you tried your best, and his heart melts everytime.

when you first met him at connie’s house warming party, you bumped into him, spilling the contents of your cup onto his white button up. jean had turned beet red as you stood on your tippy toes to whisper a hurried apology into his ear over the sound of the blaring music, while rushing to go get paper towels.

his favorite thing about you is how attentively you listen. it doesn’t matter what he’s talking about, you’ll be making eye contact and nodding along to whatever he has to say.

gets irritated with you during arguments, because you well… don’t engage. he could be giving a verbal, ten page, double spaced paper about how irritated he is with you, and you’ll just look at him like you’re bored.

“all i’m saying is that you don’t have to get aggressive with me over this. yes, i was at armin’s late and didn’t say anything, but i’ll tell you next time, okay? i’m sorry.” “okay.” “i said sorry, damn! stop yelling!”

you aren’t the biggest fan of confrontation, but he is. connect the dots yourself.

“SHE SAID NO GODDAMN TOMATO!” “it’s fine, i can just take them off—“ “not now, baby. gimme a sec, okay? anyway, FIX HER FUCKING BURGER!”

the two of you communicate so silently that it freaks your friends the hell out. when you want to go home, when you’re tired, when he’s needy, when he’s irritated? easy, simple eye contact will send you or him springing into action to fix the problem.

you may be quiet, but you love to laugh. jean doesn’t think he can think of anything more angelic-sounding than the sound of your genuine laughter, only for him.

jean had to learn how to be more tender when doing daily tasks. he was so used to slamming doors and stomping up stairs that he didn’t remember to adjust that behavior when you moved in.

(the first week you moved in, he’d thrown open the door to your bedroom and felt his chest squeeze as you almost tumbled out of your desk chair. now he puts three gentle taps on every door when he needs to come in.)

physical touch fanatic. end of discussion.

NSFW

lemme tell you, this man takes it to heart when you try to hold in your moans. you’re a little embarrassed with how loud you get, but nothing turns jean on more.

“nuh uh, lemme hear you—need to hear how good i’m making you feel, princess..”

during your first time together, he’d almost cum in his pants at the mere sound of your loud groans bouncing off the walls.

loves when you pull his hair more than anything. he takes it as a sign to go harder, fuck you deeper, and he obliges everytime. his cock throbs harder each time you run your fingers through his loose curls.

about 5.7 inches roughly, but thick. his cock flares as it goes downward; the head being the slimmest part. giving him head is fun, you think.

jean has this weird little fixation with your neck. it doesn’t matter what position he has you in, he’ll have a hand—or his mouth—running across the skin of your throat. backshots? he’s got a hand pressing against your nape to keep you in place. missionary? he’s massaging his thumb over your throat so tenderly that it should be illegal. cowgirl? he’s squeezing the sides of your neck while whispering about how good of a girl you’re being for him. he’s pretty damn weird.

his favorite thing to do is eat you out. you deny it, but your voice shoots up a whole octave when he massages your gspot with his two fingers of choice as he suckles on your swollen clit.

utterly surprised at how much you talk during sex. it almost embarrasses him how much you beg, scream, and whine for him. a mixture of ‘please’s’ and ‘fuck’s being infused in his head for eternity.

“oouu—shit, you’re so fucking loud…”

presses down on your stomach to feel where he is so he can try and go deeper… yeah.

tries to fuck your throat hoarse just to hear your raspy voice for a few hours. you’re such a trooper, just sitting there and taking it for him, even if he laughs at you after.

“babe, i’m so sorry—hahaha!” “this isn’t funny, i sound like t-pain!” “I LIKE THE BARRRTENDERRR—ouch, im sorry, i said i’m sorry!”

aftercare god. he’ll spend hours taking care of you, washing your back in the tub, greasing your scalp, making you tea and cookies, the whole nine. this man loves you deep.

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honeybleed · 24 days

Text

content & warnings: fem!reader, modern au, rockstar!jean, established relationship (reader and jean are married), conflict (is it really a honeybleed jean kirstein fic if they don’t argue) smut (a lot of dirty talk, vaginal fingering, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, horsecock jean supremacy 🤣)

author’s note: happy birthday to my favorite character ever and husband (07/04), i’m real protective over him you know ;-; me against the entire aot fandom for him. he means the world to me and i hope this fic is great for all the jean girls (gender neutral) also, rockstar jean very much inspired by two great series on here! five husbands by @kingkonoha and reverb by @chrollohearttags make sure to check those out!

word count: 3.4k

You first spoke to Jean Kirstein as he manned the counter at a record store.

An uneventful Tuesday evening. You’d always walk around town window shopping straight after work.

You loved the record store, it was always the best place to discover upcoming bands on the board.

The only downside of going there were the chauvinistic creeps who wanted to quiz you if they saw you perusing through vinyls.

The poster behind him piqued your interest.

“Is that you? Your band?” You enquired as you pointed at the paper pinned to the board.

There was a mixture of bashfulness and pride as he answered.

"Yup... that's my band.” He said triumphantly as he turned to tear it off the push pin and hand it to you. The glimmer in amber irises dancing.

“We got a gig Saturday night.”

“Oh really? What venue?” You asked as your eyes scanned the sheet of paper with a black and white photocopied photograph of them.

He had a guitar slung around him as he was in front of the microphone, a guy with a buzzcut behind the drums and a freckled guy with a bass.

“We had a lead singer but he went solo. Dick.” He muttered under his breath.

“Anyways, why you askin’?” He teased as he wiggled his eyebrows. “It’s Mandalay downtown, you lookin’ to go?”

“Maybe if you invite me…” You giggled.

“You get an invite if I get something in return.”

The sexual tension between the two of you was thick.

Jean was tall, towering over you. With warm, sun-kissed tan skin, and veined and rugged forearms, he was your dream man.

“Maybe I’ll throw a bra on stage.”

"Damn, now you've got my attention.” He smirked, leaning his elbows against the counter as he met your eyes.

“There’s a condition. Only if you don’t totally suck. Can you agree on that?”

"That sounds reasonable enough. You got yourself a damn deal." He chuckled as he beamed confidently.

"You'll be surprised. We're gonna tear that damn stage apart."

You weren’t the kinda girl that did things for other people’s approval.

But as you stood in front of your wardrobe that Saturday evening, piles of clothes scattered across your carpet to the point the nylon pink carpet was out of sight.

Close to tearing your hair out, you never cared but for some strange reason, there was a feeling to dress to impress. Jean didn’t seem like a playboy.

But you knew the pits would be chockfull of beautiful girls, and thus the seed of insecurity was planted and sprouting.

You eventually settled on a grey denim miniskirt that was cut up by you, knee-high platform boots and an asymmetrical off-shoulder black crop top that was embellished with rhinestones in the middle with a heart shape.

Not fully satisfied, you had no time. You didn’t want to be late, and you snatched your purse as you bounded out of your place.

Jean kept his promise, and so did you. He told you he was only a rookie group, and they had been desperately looking to be signed.

But from his wide vocal range to his showmanship, you stood in the pit, absolutely enthralled and mesmerised by him.

The trio were truly in sync but it was as if they worked together to propel Jean.

His eyes lit up when he saw you in the crowds. As if the spirit that possessed him during the songs had warded off almost instantly.

You sure as hell weren’t gonna take off and throw a sweaty bra from all the heat in the tight-packed venue.

Instead, you brought one. You noticed there were already a few littered across the stage, particularly around the drum kit.

The set came to an end, and Jean thanked the audience graciously. But he made a gesture at you to head towards where he was going.

“Are you going to give me a name?” He asked as he leaned across the lockers after he tugged you down the winding hallways.

“Might as well. I did promise. Y/N.”

"What if I want to call you something else?" He grinned.

“…Like?”

"What if I wanted to call you... mine?"

“Ew…never say that again.” You burst into hysterics as you shoved your palm right onto his face.

“But I gotta give my best man some ideas when our wedding comes.”

“Wedding…?!” You exclaimed. “What makes you so sure I’m the woman you’ll marry?”

“A man can dream... and I’m dreaming right now. Besides... you did just throw me your bra. You’re definitely the one.” He cheesed as he gripped onto the lacy black bra for dear life.

He eventually ushered you out of the venue, and there was a sense of pride as you walked hand in hand to the VIP section of the afterparty.

All kinds of people called out his name, the beautiful women you worried about too. But from his actions, it seemed as if he was dead set on you.

It was jumping the gun, for a man you’d only become recently acquainted with to swear you’d be the woman he’d marry.

But in a way, it intrigued you. He had the same passion he had on stage with you.

Things started to become slightly hazy.

The lights in the club were low, you were in a secluded area so the only sounds were muffled music and murmurs of people on the dance floor.

Jean was tipsy from the strong drinks he’d downed at the bar so he kept dipping his head low now and then with a glimmer in his eye. Irises swirling with lust.

He had this effect on you, and he knows how good he does. Eyes flickering looking at your plump and glossed lips with his eyes half lidded.

Moving in closer and closer as if he would throw caution to the wind and ravish your pillowy ones.

He eventually leaned in, his scent aromatic and inviting.

"Do you want me to kiss you..?" He whispered, nudging your head to the side as he inched in closer to the bare skin of your shoulders.

You nodded almost urgently, shuddering at his breath tickling your skin.

"I can't hear you…” He sang as he ran his nose against your jawline.

"Please." You breathed out shakily.

He straightened his posture out and cupped the right side of your cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in. He gave you a short and chaste kiss. It was a sweet one, so pure.

It was the beginning of your love story.

“You sure?”

Jean was in Los Angeles and you were miles apart. Or — that’s what you made him think. You were in the same town but you kept it a secret.

“I wanna surprise him.”

“Yeah, but I guarantee he’s gonna be a jackass the entire day if you make him think you’re bailing.” Connie retorted.

“Not my problem.” You said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“C’mon, Y/N! I’ve had a two-week streak here without Diva Kirstein! Do you know how rare that is? And you’re just gonna blow it out of the water and subject me to that?”

“Be a trooper!” You barked as you hung up.

A lot changed in the coming decade. He kept his promise and the two of you wed in a lavish ceremony in the private islands.

Jean was the lead singer and the trio became a quartet with the addition of Reiner Braun, a unique guitarist. So Jean could focus on singing rather than juggling the two.

Jean and Reiner butt heads at first, but bonded eventually. The two men shared a deep love of the blues as they both came from the South.

The rookie band that had to go around handing out CDs were now an established rock group that was fast on their way into going down in history.

Now it was time to break it to him, as you sat in the café of the hotel.

During rehearsals for their show tonight, he practically dived across the room when he saw your contact name flash on the screen.

“Baby, is that you?” He breathed out as he brought it to his ear, clutching onto the phone.

“Of course, it’s me you damn goof.” You snorted.

“Man, it's so good to hear your voice, you have no idea. Got on full on withdrawals without ya, y’know.” He grinned as he absentmindedly ruffled his hair.

“I know, I miss you too. Hopefully you haven’t been giving the rest of the gang a hard time, hm Diva Kirstein?”

“I may or may not be the source of our tech guy's current gray hair.” He responded with an uneasy laugh, rubbing the nape of his neck.

“Take it easy on the poor guy, alright?” You took a deep breath. “I wish I was calling under better circumstances.”

“Uh oh…what’s going on, honey?”

“I don’t think I can make it to this weekend’s show, Jean. I’m really sorry.”

There was a beat of silence on the line before he spoke with an edge to his voice.

“…What the hell is going on?”

“Just work stuff…but it’s really urgent.”

“Okay…and how long is this ‘urgent work stuff’ going to take?”

You winced. It sounded like he was mimicking your words.

Jean had been in the limelight for coming near a decade now.

And as much as you hate to point out his shortcomings, he’s the man you love after all, he’s become rather spoilt and entitled.

His label loved him. Why wouldn’t they? He was their money maker. He got whatever the hell he wanted with the click of his fingers.

“Jean, I can’t hop on a flight across the States in one night…!” You protested.

Even thought you were telling him a white lie, frustration was building in your system from how he was getting.

“We haven’t seem each other in months. And you’re ditching me for work shit? If it were me, I’d cancel these damn shows and run to you.”

“Here we go with the guilt tripping, real mature Jean.” You sighed as you pinched your nose bridge. “Cos I’m not this megaceleb that can click their fingers and change things because everybody worships the ground he walks on! I’m a regular woman with a 9-5!”

“Don’t you dare use that against me.”

“You know what, call me when you stop trying to rip my head off. Happy fuckin’ birthday, Jean.” You said harshly and cut the line.

You felt bad. Because Jean Kirstein is so in love with you. It’s the sort of love you read in epics.

You’d wave a hand dismissively, but he would walk barefoot on hot coals if it meant he could engulf you in a bear hug and shower you with kisses on the other side.

You let out a sigh and looked down at the vibrant hues of the salad in the bowl. After that screaming match, it didn’t look appetising anymore.

Arguing with Jean always made you feel like shit. Married all these years, but it never calmed down. He was lava and you were ice when it came to butting heads.

Neither one of you wanted to back down.

Crowds stretched as far as the eye could see. The opening guitar chords echoed throughout the stadium.

The audience immediately went into a frenzy as the camera focused on him, projecting the handsome face onto the big screen.

He exclaimed, garnering roars and cheers of excitement and delight.

Only the ones in Jean’s inner circle knew his true feelings. There’d been many times where he was furious or heartbroken but nobody could tell.

That’s how dedicated he was. Jean Kirstein to his core was an entertainer first and foremost.

After three hours of renditions from their hits, remixed versions, and intervals with speeches from each member, Jean was more than ready to skedaddle off stage and drink himself to sleep.

He was a wallowing loser without you.

But his ears pricked up when he heard the familiar chords of ‘Happy Birthday’ begin to play from Reiner’s guitar.

The plastered fake smile suddenly morphed into a shocked expression when he saw your familiar figure wheeling a three-tier cake with sparklers towards him.

“Drama queen.” You muttered under your breath as Jean crouched and covered his face.

“What’s the tears for, eh?” You chuckled as you looked down at him, patting his head.

He gave a soft, breathy laugh, trying not to cry. His voice cracks as he manages to speak.

“…I thought that you weren’t gonna be here.”

“Well, I’m here now. Aren’t I?” You teased but were cut off as he rose to his full six-foot stature and lifted you.

By reflex, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he pressed his face into your shoulder.

The crowd chanted his name and he struggled to wipe the huge smile off his face as he held you, unable to believe what was happening right now. Ashamed of how he yelled at you.

Marco, Connie and Reiner took it upon themselves to scoop the cake and begin to smear it on Jean and you.

You both squawked and shrieked, Jean releasing you so he could get back at the rest of them.

“Connieeeee!” You squealed as you draped your arms around him in the hallways of the venue.

“Hey, hey easy!” He whined.

Jean who was rather tipsy from the celebratory champagne leaned in and latched his lips onto Connie’s neck, sucking a purple mark onto the tan skin.

“Get offa me…!” Connie protested as he squirmed in Jean’s iron grip.

“Can’t I show my buddy some love?” Jean chuckled as he wrapped a bicep around Connie, putting him in a headlock. So much so, that Reiner had to pry Jean off.

“Go spend some time with your missus, huh? Since you were sulking all day cos you thought she wasn’t gonna come.” Reiner guffawed, pushing Jean towards you.

You felt your stomach flutter as there was a predatory glint in his eye as he zeroed in on you.

Yanking you into the dressing room, he lowered you onto the plush seating of the velvet couch.

Kissing Jean was an otherworldly experience, especially when he was away from you for months. The way he would explore the recesses of your mouth with his tongue.

Lapping it up, his fingers digging into your skin to grip your jaw. He wanted to devour you whole.

Sometimes, you’d have to grab a fistful of his hair to yank him away to catch your breath.

Lips swollen and bitten, tingling sensations roaming from your mouth to your core, light stubble grazing your soft skin deliciously that would elicit audible reactions.

You whined his name and pulled him away, chest heaving.

“What?” He sulked.

“I need to breathe, y’know!”

“Can't have you dying on me now, can we?” He chuckled darkly as his forefinger curled to run across your jawline.

His fingers slid under your panties and rubbed against your wet folds. As he leaned in closer, his lips brushed against your ear.

"Do you want me to fuck you right here, right now?"

It felt heavenly. His fingers always knew what made you tick. However, your heart pounded at the prospect of the others walking in.

“I do...so much, I missed you so fucking much.” You stuttered, pussy throbbing around nothing as his fingers continued to stroke your slit, purposely teasing and not fully plunging them in.

"Perfect." He said, locking the door behind you. "Let's make some noise.”

“You're so nasty...”

“Let me make you cum." He started rubbing circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves with the pad of his thumb. "We'll see how nasty I can really be."

He revelled in your reactions closely, the wetness of your cunt, the way your body trembled under his touch.

His cock throbbed in anticipation, wanting nothing more than to be inside you. He leant down and bit your neck lightly.

“I want more..mmph…” You said hoarsely as you leaned back to give him more access to the skin of your neck.

"More, huh?" He asks, his voice husky with desire. "I can give you more."

His other hand reached around to squeeze your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipple causing you to jolt and gasp into his mouth.

"But first, let's make sure you're nice and wet for me."

“M'gonna cum, Jean...” You whined pathetically as your walls pulsated around his digits. “Gonna cum for you..”

He licked his lips at the sight of your face contorting into expressions of pleasure and need for him.

"Fuck, yes..." He murmured as he felt your orgasm hit. "That's it, baby...cum for me."

You skipped out on the afterparty. People were disappointed since it was the last concert of the long tour but Jean couldn’t care less.

He needed to be buried inside you, as soon as possible.

He didn’t even give you a chance to fully undress and kick off your heels as the two of you walked back into his hotel suite.

“Slow down you idiot, we got all night!” You laughed breathlessly as he hurled you to the bed with Goliath-esque strength.

“Need you now.” He muttered, his face in your neck again as he hurriedly yanked off his belt.

You eventually both undressed, and you gasped out as you felt his erection press against your bare thigh, already seeping with pre-cum.

"Gonna fuck you now..." He whispered, his hands gripping your hips. "I’m gonna make you scream my name."

It’d been too long. And you forgot how you used to stretch yourself out to take his dick. You were already soaked from all the teasing and riling up in the car journey home not to mention the way he finger fucked you in the dressing room.

“Too big...” You whimpered when his fat tip grazed your drenched slit, puffy with arousal. “Not gonna fit..”

"Shhh...I'm sorry, baby. We can slow down." He reassured you as he smooched your forehead tenderly.

"Let me make sure you're okay."

He stroked your hair until your breathing calmed down. When he felt your body relax, he moved back between your legs.

"Let's try again," He whispered as he sucked your neck, teeth grazing the skin. "Spread your legs for me, you want it to fit, don't you?"

“I do...want you in me, Jean...so bad...” You panted, long nails digging into his beefy forearms.

He smirked, feeling a surge of desire coursing through him. He positioned himself at your entrance, teasingly rubbing the head of his cock against your slick folds.

"Good girl," He murmured, his voice husky with need. "I'm gonna take you nice and slow, baby. Just relax and let me in."

With a controlled thrust, he began to slide into you, inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to his size. He scrutinised your face, gauging your reactions, making sure not to overwhelm you.

"You're so tight around me, baby. I can't get enough of you, y'know that right? My girl." He groaned, his hips pressing closer to yours. "Only my girl knows how to take me in this good...look how that pussy is sucking me in...shit, baby."

His pace became hasty, the sound of your bodies slapping against each other filling the room. He leant down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss as he drove deeper into you.

“Cos...it's only for you...” You mumbled, pulling him impossibly close as if your bare chests slick with sweat wasn’t already flush.

You were on cloud nine, the drought was being blessed with thunderous rainfall. And you were beyond grateful, damn near about to cry as your toes curled and your fingers dug into his sides.

The fat mounds of your breasts against his soft pecs, your soft belly against the rigid and taut muscle of his abdomen, the hair slightly tickling.

His sanity was slipping, his restraint shattered by your words. He picked up the pace even further, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he struggled to hold back his orgasm.

"Fuck...that's it...say it again. My girl...my fucking girl..." He mustered out between gritted teeth, feeling a familiar tightening in his abdomen.

His body convulsed as he released inside you, his release mixing with your juices, coating your walls milky white.

He collapsed on top of you, panting heavily, his forehead resting against yours.

"Goddamn.”

“Happy birthday baby.” You heaved out as you leaned in to kiss his temple. “Yell at me again on the phone like that and I’ll ditch you for real.”

He sharply nudged your side, causing you to erupt into laughter.

“Ow…!”

“Well, you lied to me so I’d say it’s even.” He responded as he stared up at the ceiling, chest heaving.

author’s note: omg this is so rushed please forgive me 😭😭 but i wanted to write rockstar!jean for so long anyways. if you enjoyed, please reblog n leave feedback 🥹

#jean kirstein x reader #aot x reader #aot smut #aot x female reader #aot x black!reader #jean kirschstein #aot x fem!reader #jean kirstein smut #jean kirstein #⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ nara scribbles #jean kirschtein #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirschstein smut #aot x black reader

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ye4gerism · 12 days

Text

𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑰𝑺 𝑭𝑨𝑰𝑹 𝑰𝑵 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑾𝑨𝑹 - 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍 𝐗 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 part two!

word count 2.6k

content warning smut (they’re getting IN TO IT)

author’s note guys don’t laugh at me seriously. enjoy the little mature scene you got 😭 also thank you for the reposts and likes on the first post!

Winter 858

Mister Ambassador,

Thank you so much for the job opportunity. My wife had told me about, you, a friend she had made before the Rumbling. Thank you for reaching out to her. Considering my previous line of work, I did hear a little bit about Paradis and their efforts from other Hizuran diplomats. We should connect personally some time.

I am interested in diplomat work but I'm worried about leaving Anahg. As time has gone on, we've grown at steady rate; with hardworking people and Hizuru's funds and service, we've been able to get up on our feet. There's still a lot of ways to go but we're getting there. My problem is turning my back on these people. I'm not even from here but yet they've found their trust in me as a leader. It'd be a bad look if I packed up and left, especially because the people of Anahg know of my love for the world. And I can't just leave my wife or move her again. She's been far away from Anahg and now she's finally home and we just got married. I'm honestly surprised that she pitched this offer to me.

I can't say yes to a new job right now, I'm sorry. But if you and the Alliance would like to visit Anahg, that'd be wonderful. Maybe we can build a partnership.

Thank you again,

Sebas Abe

Mr. Abe,

No, thank you for reaching out to me. Your wife has presented you as an amazing candidate and from asking around my Hizuran colleagues, I can tell they trust you too from how their eyes lit up from the mention of your name. I'd definitely be interested in connecting with you even if you can't take the job and I think I can work something out if you're interested in having the Alliance come to you.

I'm most definitely interested in visiting you, your wife, and Anahg.

I'll write again soon,

Jean Kirstein, Peace Ambassador

Dearest Jean,

My my, what a negotiator you are. Sebas was over the moon about your response today, as you already know. I'm also very excited. I'm interested in seeing you and touching you again. Are you still as handsome as you were a few years ago?

Are you for sure bringing more people with you? I want to see if I can get a moment alone with you. I feel that it might be impossible considering you're the one pitching this trip and it'd be inappropriate for you to disappear for a few hours. But we'll see.

If you were to visit, how long would you stay?

Missing you,

Y/N

Y/N,

I still feel handsome. I am worried though...I haven't done anything since you. It's really been me and my alone time, so I hope you aren't disappointed when I arrive. I can't wait to see you; I bet you're even more beautiful now.

I'd like to bring my friends from Paradis who established the Alliance but I'm worried they all won't be able to come with our situation with New Marley and Mainland Marley. It's either I bring a few of us and stay for a few weeks or even days or we wait a very long time as we have a few more places to visit before we can hit the Southern Regions.

In the past, and because of how recent the Rumbling was, I and multiple others have spent at least two years in New Marley and Mainland Marley. I've managed to come home because of my mother or because of holidays that have been planned previously. I know a few people love to stay for the entire period.

Jean Kirstein

Jean,

Don't worry, I'll get you up to speed. I'm very experienced now!

Bring as many as you can. Or just you. I doubt Sebas will have you running all over the place if it's just you. Also, why not ask some individuals from Hizuru? They'd love to visit him, no?

I'd do anything to see you every few days every month. I can't wait for years. I might even have to come to Paradis myself.

I need you. I need your air. He doesn't satisfy me. He doesn't leave me thinking about his performance for years, not even seconds. I'm always thinking about you; replacing his face with yours. I always have to stop myself from crying out your name. I only get the chance to when I'm alone.

Y/N

Darling,

From now on, I don't want to hear anything about you and him. I totally forgot that activity was a part of your marriage. Don't remind me.

As soon as I read your letter, I started talking to the others. Some of us have agreed to visit Anahg for a few days. I will write to your husband. Act as if you don't know. I will be seeing you soon, darling.

When I'm there, I'll take you. I'll give you the time you deserve. I'll perform for you. Just wait and keep me in mind.

Love,

Jean Kirstein

Spring 858

Dear Mr. Ambassador,

We're all excited about your arrival this upcoming week. I understand that a native, Onyankopon, is coming with you. I am eager to speak with him and so is my wife.

We have set up spaces for you and your colleagues and we will let you know once you arrive. You, however, will be staying with my wife and I.

I am so pleased with this visit. I hope we can make some progress.

Thank you,

Sebas Abe

Summer 858

The minute the Paradian Alliance members stepped foot within Anahg they were hit with humidity. Although they had lived on an island for most of their lives, the heat and humidity were nothing like Paradis. Regardless of the humidity, Jean was looking forward to his time here. He was going to take off his clothes anyway; the sooner the better.

Along with Jean came Onyankopon, Armin, and Connie. Considering that Libero was their home, Reiner, Annie, and Pieck stayed behind with others to finish negotiations in both Marleyian nations. The quartet in Anahg was greeted by a group of Anahgians who, by horse, led them to the Abe residence. The home wasn't as majestic as it sounded but it looked live-able and comfortable.

Onyankopon thanks the individuals who helped in their shared language and the four walk up to the front door. Jean is feeling jittery; not only is he worried about being caught but he doesn't know how he's going to react once he sees you. The last time you saw each other, he was leaving and he didn't dare to look you in the eye. After learning what you had been through during the Rumbling, he felt responsible. He could have just told you the truth and you could have gone home. But had you gone home, would you have been killed?

His thoughts dissolved once the front door opened and he was met by a woman. Her skin was melanated, her hair coily, and her face absolutely beautiful. Jean's eyes widen and his mouth parts. She's looking up at him with the same look on her face.

"Y/N," he breathes. Instinctively, you find yourself wrapping your arms around his torso. Jean takes this as an opportunity to bow his head and take in your air. If only he could kiss you. The moment feels like it could last forever.

"Mr. Kirstein." The two move away from each other like two positive magnets. Sebas enters. He shakes the Alliance's hands one by one and reaches Jean last. You move back, eyes still on Jean, missing the touch of his torso, longing to be attached to him once more. Sebas's handshake with Jean is firm. "I'm so glad to finally meet you. Let's head inside." Sebas looks back at you, his wife. "Do you think you could get our guest something to drink?" Your eyes flicker over at Sebas and you almost forget how to speak. "Uh, uh...yeah."

You all begin to enter the home. It's still developing its story; The living room was a light shade of brown, full of seating and some plants. "You can wait here. I have tea, water, wine..." you start," The tea and water will take a while-" Sebas cuts in, "It's a little too early for wine don't you think? Just get them the tea and water." You nod but once you're about to walk off, Jean opens his mouth. "I'll actually take some wine. I know it's a diplomatic visit...kind of but..." He looks over at Armin sheepishly. Armin refuses to look at him but then sighs and shakes his head looking down. Trying to hold back a chuckle, he mutters, "You're ridiculous." Sebas looks over at you once more, "Just go ahead and get the wine." You look at Sebas, then Jean, and finally take your exit.

"I guess we can relax tonight. You all just got here, so I don't mind a little drinking. Just not too much though because I know all of you will be placed somewhere else and we want to make a good impression on your hosts. Throughout the next few days, I'll show you around," Sebas explains.

You return with two bottles and five glasses. Everyone thanks you verbally but Jean says nothing. His eyes only stay on you.

After many introductions and drinking, Sebas had gone out with Onyankopon, Armin, and Connie to show them where they'd be sleeping for the next few days, leaving you with Jean. He had gone to the guest room to put his stuff down. You were in the kitchen, trying to figure out the plan for dinner. Coming up with something was much harder now with technology being very wonky these past few years and it didn't help that she didn't know what Jean wanted.

You turned around, ready to call him downstairs but there he was leaning on the doorframe of the kitchen. "Jean," you breathe. He starts walking towards you, steps getting faster and bigger each time until he has one hand on your neck and the other on your back. Your lips meet his, desperate for him. Jean lifts you and places you on the counter. He pushes your legs back and lowers himself. Jean pushes your underwear aside to get a look at your core. You were getting wetter and needier by the moment. "Jean..." you mewled. Jean looks up at you. "Be patient, baby. I'm just getting a good look at you." You whine at his words, clearly growing impatient. Your aching and yearning dissolved once you felt his tongue running over your slit. Your body trembles in excitement, unsure on how to work itself. He laps at your cunt but then stops remembering you were both on a time limit. He comes up and kisses you a few more times.

"I need you desperately," you whisper, placing your forehead on his. Jean kisses your nose then proceeds to unbuckle and pull down his pants. "I'll make it quick." He strokes himself up and down against you before applying pressure. Naturally, you take him in. Jean grabs at your side, letting out a pained sigh before setting a pace. You immediately grab onto his cheek and bring him in for another quick kiss.

By the minute his pace picks up and you're so close! You start to gasp, ready to release when Jean suddenly stops. He gives you a panicked look - the front door is opening. He pulls out of you and bends over to pull his pants up and get situated. You get off the counter with slightly shaky legs from the experience and the anxiety of Sebas on his way.

"Do you have a towel or-" Jean cuts himself off once he grabs a rag and wipes the part of the counter where they partially did the deed off. He shoves it in your hand unsure of what to do with it. Both of your faces are flushed, unsure of if Sebas will crack the code on day one.

He walks in, smiling, then it drops. "You haven't made dinner, yet?" he asks. You're using the counter to support you. "I-I-" You don't stutter because you're nervous but because you still have Jean on your mind. One moment, he had you feeling euphoric and now he has you trembling from his force. You look over at him. "It's my fault. She called me over to talk about it and we ended up having a conversation about my life in Paradis and what we've been up to these past years. I totally forgot I was hungry," Jean replies quickly. He looks at you; you tell them thank you with your eyes.

"Mr. Kirstein, are you ok? You seem a little hot...out of breath almost?" Jean's eyes widened like he was about to shit a ton of bricks. "Is it the heat?" Jean coughs. "I think so. Sorry...Paradian summers are a bit lighter than Anahg's." Sebas's hands clasp together. "That's alright, let's sit down in the living room and relax." Jean nods and leaves immediately, feeling sheepish.

Sebas doesn't immediately follow and instead turns to you. "Make something," he says sternly, "Cereal, oatmeal, something! It's getting late." You bow your head in embarrassment. If you only had Jean a little longer.

Fall 858

Y/N,

I apologize for leaving you high and dry during our visit. Your husband is very passionate about Anahg and it's progress and from my point of view, a lot of work has to be done. My work mind turned on immediately and my focus was on the individuals that needed help. I'm sorry.

I had to get myself off so many times at the thought of you in so many different places during that trip. I wish we had more time to sneak off. I was either with Sebas or you were. I wish you could have been in the guest room with me but that would have been very suspicious. I wish we had more time together, so I could really give you a good welcome back.

Well, at least I got to see your face. You're beautiful. I think the sun in Anahg has done you a favor; you have this insane glow to you. And your hair is pretty. I'm just afraid to pull on it though.

Y/N, I want to ask you something, if it's not too inappropriate. Why is Sebas always talking to you that way? He's not cruel but his tone isn't kind either. Based on his positive tone in his letters and in person, I'm unsure about what exactly I witnessed.

Love,

Jean

My Dearest, Jean,

I’m starting to see your point about mentioning Sebas and our activities in our letters. But I find that calling him Sebas doesn’t make things easier. Let’s call him…Him.

Yes, I share your frustration. I couldn’t even satisfy myself. I need you physically. I wish he had given us more time to catch up; he knows of our friendship.

You’re equally as handsome, Jean. I find myself heating up at the thought of you…and a little jealous when I hear other women talk about the visit. I wish Him was as thoughtful as you are; he doesn’t bother asking about pulling my hair.

Him…well, he was sweet in the beginning - so I feel like the stress is getting to him. I understand. There’s been so much because of what your friend did. We’re losing our patience and missing our past lives. We just need a little patience and time. He can be kind sometimes.

Missing yearning for you,

Y/N

#black reader #black yn #aot x black reader #aot x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean x black!reader #jean x reader #x black reader #jean kirschstein x black reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein x black reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschtien #jean kirschtein smut #aot smut

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heejayy · 2 years

Text

Wake up my boyfriend’s here!

Warning • slight swearing

Genres • crack

Pairing • Jean, Eren, Reiner, Armin, Erwin, Levi x Black Reader

A/n: I’m like 3 followers away from 1,000….WHAT?! 😭😭

—————————————

Jean

“Yo Jean, get up! You gotta go my boyfriend is coming!” You slapped his arm abruptly waking him up.

“Huh?! Who?” He looked around and then realized what you were doing “nice try now go back to bed!”

“Damn…it was worth a shot.” You shrugged as he pulled you back down on the bed to continue your nap.

Eren

“Aye! Aye! Get up! My boyfriends here! You have to leave!” You whispered yelled shaking Erens sleeping body.

He slowly opened his eyes sitting up to give you a blank stare. Then a smirk spread on his lips “he can join us if he’d like. If not just go back to sleep.” You groaned as he rolled over ignoring you.

Reiner

“Reiner! My boyfriends on his way you gotta go!”

“Boyfriend? You- you’re cheating on me?”

“No?- Yeah…” you answered sheepishly.

“I just can’t believe you— would think I’d fall for such bull. Y/n if you don’t take your ass on somewhere.”

“Rude…”

Armin

“Armin baby you gotta go, he’s on his way back.”

“Who?” Asked a sleepy Armin.

“My boyfriend.”

“Mmm…ok tell him I said hi” he waved you off as he turned back to rest.

Erwin

“Babe come on and get out you gotta go my boyfriends on his way—“ He interrupted your sentence by grabbed your cheeks squeezing them pulling your face closer to his.

“Finish that sentence I dare you” you gulped.

“Never mind…” you squeaked out.

“Mmh that’s what I thought, now if you don’t mind let me get back to my workout” he gave you a peck on the lips with a sweet smile. You knew you were in for it later.

Levi

“Get up, get ready my boyfriends on the way here!”Your sudden outburst was met with complete silence.

“Levi!”

Silence.

“Levi?”

Snores.

—————————————

AOT Masterlist

#aot memes #aot crack #jean kirschstein x black reader #levi x black reader #aot x black reader #reiner braun #erwin headcanons #aot headcanons #tiktok #tiktok boyfriend prank #connie aot #aot modern au #aot masterlist #eren yeager x black reader #armin x black reader #levi aot

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f4irycafe · 2 years

Text

𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 - 𝒂𝒐𝒕 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒔

⤷ summary: aot boys wth high maintenance girlfriends.

⤷ characters: jean, armin, connie, eren,

⤷ content warnings: suggestive themes, fluff, black!coded reader, college!au.

⤷ notes: my MEN.

PLEASE REBLOG

𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐧

baby boy is obsessed with you. like the biggest simp outta all of them fs.

jean isn't rich, but he's worked hard for all the $$ he has.

and he def doesn't mine spending all that shit on you okayyyyyyyyy.

he knew you liked to keep up w yourself, new nails and lashes every few weeks, new wig/braids/locs every few months.

he was just soo in awe of your presence for a while he didn't even consider how much that stuff costs.

"baby how much does your hair cost?" he asks you one day as ur just chilling on the couch in your dorm.

"couple hundred, why?" atp he knows all abt your hair care n stuff so this isn't no invasive ass question.

eyes = dropped out of his head.

he tries to play it cool like, "oh alright," but inside he's like, i've been letting her pay hundreds for her hair ALONE this entire time.

now whenever you mention you wanna go get ur lashes refilled, or ask him to pick a color, his first question is,

"how much is it?"

i feel like there is one or two services he chooses to pay for consistently, like braids and nails. he got money, but not that much so he can't be wildin out for you.

you get the biggest heart eyes when he does tho. sometimes you don't even have to ask and you get a veno notif on your phone.

"$250 from jean" - get the white tips i like.

cause yuk know, he likes to watch em when you ... yeh yeh u get it.

supportive, love to spoil you, but will act so nonchalant abt it.

𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧

rich boy armin? rich boy armin.

he lives a high maintnence lifestyle as it is, tailed clothes, designer book bags, shoes, glasses, family homes in europe. your typical trust fund baby.

honestly, that was the first thing he noticed about you. the nice but still lowkey car, the sleek bags, the perfect professional looking wigs and braids, even the smells you wore just exuded an air of confidence.

he loved it.

being a boy tho, he didn't realize just how much money went into upkeep with your look per week.

he was shocked, sure, but your finances barely made a dent in his pockets.

the type boyfriend to just hand you an asswad of cash at the beginning of the week and say "go crazy,"

at first you wanted to test just how much you could get out of him. a new white tie dress for some elite school event, the new apple watch that just dropped, wigs that cost upwards of $500 for you to only wear them for a week.

when you finally realized that this boy would do any and everything for you, you toned it down a bit.

but now, he pays for all your shit. eyelashes, hair, nails, perfume.

you still be paying for your phone, car, rent etc, but all that personal shit, yeah its his.

𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧

hehehe. y'all know this is my husband quit playingggggg

while armin goes after the pretty rich girls, eren goes after the ones that do this shit just cause they can.

you be working for every inch of hair on your head trust and BELEIVEEEEEEE.

thats one of the things he admires about you, how hard you work for the stuff you want. even if that shit seems superficial to others, you can fr do anything you put your mind to.

another trust fund baby. (i hc grisha as a world class surgeon and carla as a lowkey fashion designer)

he just thinks ur so pretty. like jean, worships the ground you work on.

one night you're trying to set up an appointment for these fancy ass locs that almost touch the floor but you're stressin tryna figure out when you can fit another shift in at work between studying, classes and your extracurriculars while on ft w him.

he's quiet and contemplative on the phone, not really giving answers outside of "i'm sorry bae :("

in the morning you wake up to a venmo notif.

"stink-a-link paud you $600 - hair app. get those nails you've been wanting too."

at first you kinda freak out cause 600??? aint no one treated you like this before.

he just smiles when you try to call him, asking him to take it back.

"i got money to spend, and ik how much this style means to you. if you're happy i'm happy pretty girl."

the sweetest.

plus he gets bragging rights. cause who tf elses girl is looking this damn fine? right , no ones.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞

CONSTANCE

if you've been here for a while you know its rich drug dealer connie or nothin.

yall probably got together cause he was ur plug and gave u a lil too much free weed lmaooooo.

but he been payin for your shit from the start.

the only catch - u gotta get what he wants.

its never wack or emberassing, our boy got taste and an eye for fashion, trust he does u right.

he be putting the description in the venmo tag LMAO

"buss down 30in. honey brown beach wave ..."

LIKE BOY HOW U KNOW WHAT THAT ISSSSSSSSS? U THE OPPS OR SOMETHIN

sometimes he'll just give you like a color for the nails and hair. he don't be knowin much about lashes tho, but he likes the cat eye ones the most.

everyone is always thirsting after you fr.

makes him so proud. maybe a lil too proud HAHA

but he'll drive u to all ur appointments. he doesn't care how long they are he'll wait. or go home and bring u food if its a long hair day.

hypes u up so much when u get in the car talkin bout "you so pretty babe".

can't stop looking at you.

elles rambles: i - love them so much. biased w eren as always. but i want these boys to spoil me. specially connie :))))))0

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