Jean Kirstein X Reader - Blog Posts

•No existe la discreción con él. Si le gustas te lo hará saber.

•Alardear de sus magníficas cualidades (mayormente físicas) es su carta estrella para conquistarte.

•Es una fachada, en realidad no tiene ninguna experiencia en el ámbito romántico.

•Entonces, no te dejes engañar por esa personalidad orgullosa y atrevida, en el momento en que respondas a sus insinuaciones encontrarás a un joven tímido y avergonzado.

•Mucho coqueteo y poca acción por parte suya.

•Descarado, le gusta presumir de su relación a todo aquel que esté dispuesto a escuchar (incluso con los que no están dispuestos).

•Es todo o nada, mucho afecto, muchos regalos, muchas citas y lo más importante, él mismo.

•Muy dramático, sería un gran actor.

•Un poco celoso, ten en cuenta que si no se lo reprochas sólo reforzarás la conducta.

•Gran probabilidad de que desarrolle dependencia emocional, pero con algo de consuelo se soluciona.

•Es la mejor oportunidad de tu vida, no la desperdiciarás sólo por algunos aspectos negativos, ¿verdad?

•Reo Mikage, Michael Kaiser, Draco Malfoy, Jean Kirstein, Leon Kuwata...

Song of the day!! 🤍💜

Song the day!! 🤍💜

Valentine Headcanons about (almost) every fictional character I love 💕 

happy Valentine’s Day to everyone! I hope you know you are appreciated and cared for! Here are some Headcanons on how my fictional crushes would spend Valentine’s Day 💓

featuring: Daiki aomine, Sasuke Uchiha, Takumi Fujiwara, Rindou Haitani, Jean Kirstein, Ryusui Nanami, Spike Spiegel, Hisashi Mistui, Matt Holt, Taehoon Seong, and Damian Wayne

Daiki Aomine:

He’s playing basketball 💀

You’re 100000% sure he forgot what today was because when you gave him a handmade lunch AND a net for catching bugs he just stares at it like “what is this for?”

So as you sadly sit on the bench watching him play

But then he falls idiot

You sigh and walk over to him. “You ok Daiki?”

He groans and kneels with a bracelet in his hand blushing

“H-happy Valentine’s Day…”

You’re speechless. Only for a short moment of course, you quickly begin laughing your ass off

“W-what’s so funny?! Damn Kise telling me to do dumb shit…”

“I love it Daiki! Where’d you get it?” 

“S-satski taught me…”

This man has the largest amount of pride but will always throw it aside for you!

Sasuke Uchiha:

You both would either stay home or be somewhere private 

You both have this secret spot in the woods that you guys have been going to ever since you were kids

So it’s no surprise on your 15th valentines together that’s where the two of you would be

With the little snacks and dinner entrees the both of you made to surprise each other and the nice lighting and river it was perfect

This is also the time he’s most vulnerable with you; kissing your hands, neck, cheek, arms, and of course your lips ;)

He whispers sweet things in your ear and tells you how he’s never loved like this and won’t with anyone else 

“You’re my everything (y/n). I look at you and see a future brighter than all the stars out tonight.”

It’s safe to say he only and will only ever love you

Takumi Fujiwara:

You’ve always went on Tofu runs when you could with Takumi, and it was no different for Valentine’s Day 

When he arrives at your house he’s standing there with a small bouquet 

“Is there anything you want to do today?” He asks you as he drives to the hotel

You shake your head. “It doesn’t really matter as long as I’m with you!”

He can’t help but smile

When he’s done with the deliveries he pulls into a parking lot in front of Lake Akina 

“Can w-we just sit here for a while then? I really just want to be with you.”

You smile at him and lean your head as close as you can to his shoulder. “I’d love that Takumi.”

Rindou Haitani:

Rindou takes you dancing

You both love to dance so it was a win

But of course after that he takes you home

You both cuddle on each other and watch random movies

Rindou has the finest liquor out and the sweetest chocolate and all your other favorite sweets 

He kisses up and down your shoulder as you sit in his lap holding one of his hands

“You’re mine (y/n). And you’re gonna be for my next valentine and the one after that…”

Jean Kirstein 

He cooks for you!

He makes you sit there patiently while he scrambles around creating the perfect meal

“Jean, i don’t mind helping you. I think it’ll be a lot easier if-“

“I got this (y/n)! Just sit there and look beautiful! Tell me about your day. You know I love to hear your voice.”

After he’s FINALLY done cooking, you dine together in the not so fancy living area, but the both of you don’t care

Jean did his best to clean up and set the sweet, loving tone and that’s all that matters to you.

“I love you (y/n). Thank you for making me so happy.”

Ryusui Nanami:

This man goes all out💀

As soon as you wake up it’s the most perfect breakfast in bed

He has to leave to work but literally leaves you his black card to treat yourself and constantly has people arriving with beautiful flowers every 5 minutes

He comes back for lunch and talks to you

“Has your valentines been well? I’ll make sure that you have the best day ev-“

“I really like all the things Ryusui really i do, but…I just really want to spend time with you…”

He pauses

Then calls in like it’s nothing!

The rest of the day is the two of  you lay in bed together and act all cutesy!

“I’m glad you’re my valentines dear. It’s been one amazing day.”

Spike Spiegel:

This broke man does his best I’ll give him that

He buys you flowers and takes you to a pretty nice restaurant. Nothing too fancy but it’s nicer than you normally go to

He lets you order first and gets him something small, which is weird for this man

You both talk for hours the waitstaff is so annoyed

After you two are FINALLY done you both walk back to the Bebop

“Why did you eat so little Spike? You’re normally chowing down!”

He chuckles and keeps walking, “wasn’t that hungry.”

“Come on spike, we’re practically married, I can tell when you’re lying!”

He sighs and mumbled something 

“What?”

“I wanted to make sure I had enough money for you to eat…”

You stop in your tracks

“Spike…”

You kiss him lovingly 

“Thank you Spike. I love you so much.”

He smiles, “ditto.”

Hisashi Mitsui

You’re probably his first valentines tbh

He waits at a cafe with flowers in his hand

When you show up he’s bright red. You’re not even wearing and saying anything spectacular he’s just so nervous lol

You sit next to each other and talk snack and laugh about everything and anything 

After the cafe you head to the park

And after that you go to little stores you see along the way

Mitsui buys you a stuffed animal you were looking at and you bought him a chain necklace he glanced at

It was a really great valentines, especially since it was first

“T-thanks for being my valentine (y/n). I’m glad i get to spend it with you.”

Matt Holt:

He makes this super cool heart shaped projector thing!

He hands you this heart 

It rises shifts into being a projector that displays all of your favorite memories together

It shows the new inductee dance and how the two of you jumping around without a care in the world

Then it shows a lazy night of the both of you “studying” for an exam as the camera zooms into Matt’s face and your giggles from behind the camera

And one of your favorite memories of all, your day at the beach together. Throwing water at each other, making sand castles, resting you head in his shoulder as the sun goes down 

“Matt…this is beautiful… I-I’m speechless…!”

“It’s alright.” He begins, “I know what you’re gonna say. I love you too.”

Taehoon Seong

Mans has no idea what to do

He acts like he doesn’t care as Hansu tries to give him ideas but really he’s terrified of messing something up

So when the day comes you hear a knock on the door you’re surprised to see a nicely dressed Taehoon with a rose in his hand

“Happy Valentine’s Day idiot.”

You smile and kiss his cheek. “Thank you Tae Tae!”

You Motion for him to come in

When he does there’s a nice breakfast for two in the dining room

“I know you don’t like to go out Tae, so I thought we could stay in for the day.”

Oh my gosh that sounds perfect

“Heh, I guess so. At least I’m with you.”

Damian Wayne:

Spoils you with acts of service 

As soon as you wake up you’re greeted with the smell of a nice breakfast in the dining room 

Then you sit in bed as he feeds you chocolate cover strawberries, watching silly movies and drawing pictures for each other 

At the end of the day he prepares a bath for the both of you

You wash each other not like that weirdos and you even blow some bubbles at him

When it’s finally time to sleep he massages your back and whispers about how much he loves you 

Then of course you fall asleep on his chest as he holds you

“Goodnight beloved. I hope you understand how much I love you.”

Holy - Angel

(Jean x Reader) - Word Count: 2.2k

Creature: a spiritual being believed to act as an attendant, agent, or messenger of God

Warnings: Blasphemy, Very Religious Mindsets, Vaginal Penetration, Creampie, Breeding Kink

Extra Notes: Kicking off the Halloween countdown strong with some angelic Jean! Also, for all of the Fleabag fans, this is lightly inspired by the Confessional scene in season 2!

You were used to the church being quiet at this time of night, it was unusual to see anyone awake at midnight and especially seeing them inside praying. But, this was the only time you liked to come here; you’d show up on Sundays, Wednesdays, and almost every Friday and Monday at midnight.

The large wooden front door of the church creaked as you pushed it open. You leaned your entire body weight into the door, slowly moving it to rest in its normal spot for Wednesdays and Sundays. It’s only completely open all day when there's a service, but just because it’s shut doesn’t mean you can’t come in and pray - that’s something the priest had always told you since your first day here.

Your shoes clicked against the hard mahogany wood flooring underneath you. You walked down the main aisle of the church, passing the pews you normally sit in during sermons. You tended to choose the pews towards the back, not wanting to impose on the other churchgoers - the only person here nice enough to make you feel welcome has always been the priest. Everybody else gave you weird looks for showing up alone when you used to come every week with your husband.

You finally made it to your destination, the large mahogany confessional stood high in front of you. You pulled back the curtain for the left side of the booth and immediately kneeled on the small step stool in front of the small iron grate separating you from the priest. You took a deep breath before bringing all of your sins to mind, readying yourself for the next conversation.

This definitely wasn’t your last time in this exact position and place, and definitely wouldn’t be your last time either. Every week you tried to confess, same day, same time, same priest, same church. You enjoyed routine and you liked to believe maybe Father Jean liked it as well, always knowing you’d make your way here eventually every single Friday night. You took a deep breath before beginning the same routine of the night.

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned.” There fell a moment of silence in which you knew the priest was basking in as well as yourself. “It’s been a week since my last confession.”

You started talking about all of your sins within the last seven days. You spoke of the time you saw your ex-husband at the grocery store the other day, and how you had wished you had the nerve to speak your anger - but you didn’t. You also spoke of the time your mother called and you purposely ignored the ringing because you didn’t feel like talking at the moment - but you did call her back later. And, you spoke a bit too long about the large chocolate cake you bought and ate all by yourself alone in your living room last Saturday night.

After minutes and minutes of confessing every moment within the last seven days where you felt minorly sinful, you ended with an apology. You always ended with many sorrys said to the priest. Sorry for wasting your time, and thank you for being here for me. Sorry for always sinning and thank you for always blessing me despite my sins. Sorry for stealing your sleep on a Friday night, and thank you for always being available when you are available.

Your routine for every Friday night at midnight in this same confessional, with this same priest, in this same church was down to the T. You wouldn’t be surprised if there came a time when you would confess the same sins, constantly, every week. Now, in the routine, all that was left was Father Jean blessing you and you going on your merry way back home.

“That’s all of your sins?” Father Jean asked after a moment of letting your confession truly settle in the air between you both. “You have nothing else left to say to me right now?”

You nodded even though you knew the priest couldn’t see it, “Yes, that’s everything I can think of at the moment.”

“Not even masturbation?”

The question shocked you to your core. You didn’t even like saying the m-word and here was your priest saying it to you, asking you if you have participated in the act. You wondered why he’d even ask such a thing, did he believe you were lying about your sins?

“No, no no no, of course not, Father.” You felt like crying, pleading with the priest to know that you would never leave a sin out of your confession and you would never lie to him. “I have never done that, never.”

“Wow,” Father Jean spoke as if he gave up completely, “You’ve never even masturbated, you really are a saint, you know that, right?”

“I,” You attempted to speak, but only air came out of your mouth. You thought maybe it was a good sign you were breathing, at least now you knew this whole conversation was real. “I, uh, I think it’s a little sacreligious for you to compare me to a saint when I’m not.”

Father Jean giggled breathily on his side of the confessional. You heard him smack his hand against his leg, as if he were physically giving up on this conversation. You felt guilty for making him feel this way, you now wished you had masturbated at least once so you could help him through this conversation - maybe he wouldn’t be so upset if you had done something that sinful in your life just once.

But, you never had. You only had sex with your husband a handful of times before he divorced you a year into the marriage. And, even then, you had been persistent on waiting to have sex for the first time until after your wedding day. Before then as well, you always swallowed the urge to touch yourself, never wanting to give into sin.

“I’m sorry,” You pleaded to the priest, “I can- I can touch myself if you want me to!”

“No, no no no.” The wood creaked on the other side of the wall in front of you, it sounded like Father Jean was walking around on his side of the confessional. “I don’t want you to do that, I just- I have never met somebody like you before, you know that?” The curtain on his side sprung open quickly, you looked toward your curtain, wondering where he was going. Outside of your curtain, you heard him speak. “You’re special, you deserve a special reward.”

You blinked at him, dumbfounded, “Father, what do you mean, what are you saying?”

The curtain in between you and the priest slammed against the wall beside it and you stared up at Father Jean. You were still on your knees in front of him, looking up at him with large and delicate eyes. He could see your innocence in your face, he could see how sinless you lived and yet how guilty you felt for every normal feeling you had. It was amazing to him to see someone so much like himself.

“I’ve been looking for somebody like you for quite a long portion of my existence.” Father Jean shook his head as he examined you in front of him. “And, I have never met anyone as holy as you are. I want to reward you, God is allowing me to reward you, if you accept his reward.”

You nodded quickly, “Yes, of course I accept. I accept anything God will give me.”

“Then, stand up for me.” You did as he said, and stood on your feet. You had to look up at Father Jean at this distance, you had never been this close to him. You always knew he was tall, and you had always heard the other members speak of his height, but you had never had the chance to witness it yourself so closely. “And, kiss me.”

Your throat had gone dry, you had to admit you had found yourself imagining kissing Father Jean many, many times - he’s the most handsome man you had ever seen. But, you never thought it become a reality, you knew priests couldn’t marry, so you assumed sex was not an option for them. Hearing your priest tell you to kiss him made you want to question his celibacy, but you also didn’t care so much, he didn’t have to tell you twice - you have wanted to kiss him for as long as you’ve known him.

You leaned forward and kissed him, swiftly landing your lips on his lips. You had never kissed anyone other than your ex-husband, and you had to admit that kissing somebody else was a whole new experience for you. And, you had to admit you liked it, you liked it a lot - and part of you even missed these intimate moments with your ex.

Your body was suddenly flush against Father Jean’s, and you weren’t sure if this was your doing or his. His body was not only pressed against your own, but now he was backing you up, back into the confessional. You moved your lips from his mouth to give yourself just enough space to talk.

“Father,” You whispered against his lips, “Where are you-?”

The priest sushed you quietly, “It’s okay, just trust me, okay?” You nodded while your lips still grasped for his, not wanting to stop kissing him but still curious in his plan. But, you did trust him, you trusted him with every ounce of your soul.

Father Jean backed you against the mahogany wall and you picked you up so your legs could wrap around his waist. You gasped as he pushed your back against the wall enough to only need to hold you up with one hand. He used his now free hand to unbutton his black slacks.

The new angle you were at forced your dress to be pushed up to your waist, and now his free hand scrambled for your panties. You tried to speak, but all that came out was a mess of breathing and syllables.

“Fa-fa-fath-er” You spoke through breathless gasps.

The priest shook his head, “Don’t worry, God has a plan for you and this baby, he’s going to be very special.” Father Jean moved your panties to the side, pushing his dick inside of you in one swift movement. You would’ve been more impressed by his pure muscular strength if you weren’t preoccupied by his whole cock inside of you.

The feeling of being with Father Jean felt so much better than being with your ex-husband, it felt holy oddly enough. You felt like you were floating rather being held up by the priest’s muscular arms, and you could swear - in your lightheaded state of pleasure - that there was an odd golden glow around the both of you. The golden glow made you think that maybe God himself was here to witness this moment, and that thought made your eyes flood with tears. You always knew God was real and active in your life, but this was the first moment you felt reassured by that feeling.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as gripped onto the back of the priest’s shirt. You could feel that Father Jean had some odd bumps on his shoulder bones, they felt like long linear scars meeting at a point at his ribs. You were curious about what these marks were caused by, but not enough to open your mouth and attempt speaking - and you were sure if you had opened your mouth, nothing but moans would come out.

You suddenly felt as Father Jean’s abdomen tightened against your stomach, and even though you had only had sex a handful of times, you knew what that meant. You leaned in close to the priest, bringing your mouth up to his ear and whispered sweetly to him.

“Come inside of me,” You begged, “Please, Father.”

You didn’t have to say much more than that before Father Jean was releasing himself inside of you. You and the priest sang a chorus of moans as you felt yourself get filled up with his warmth. You wanted Father Jean to fuck you again and again and again, knowing that eventually you’ll be filled up with as many children as he wants for however long he wants you.

The priest set you back on the ground gently and your legs wobbled as they hit the ground. You felt like a newborn deer just learning to walk for the first time and you looked at it as well when you tried to leave the confessional without the priest’s assistance. Father Jean helped you to a pew and sat down beside you, placing his hand gently on your arm before speaking softly to you.

“I’m glad you have accepted God’s gift,” Father Jean said, “He will be pleased to know one of his children is walking the Earth, continuing his legacy for him.”

You nodded, confused but not in the mood to ask questions. You’d ask him some other time, you’d ask him about God’s gift to you, what he means, why he’s doing this, and when you can do it again. You also wished to ask the priest what those marks on his back were from, but just as suddenly as Father Jean had pinned you against the wall, you felt the spirit of sleep dawn upon you. You rested your head on the priest’s shoulder and whispered to him.

“Okay,” You said in a small voice, one you were unsure if the priest could even hear, “Thank you.” Jean chuckled as you began drifting off into sleep.

The Lidérc

(Jean x Reader) - Word Count: 3.7k

Creature: a creature that can assume a human shape, usually the shape of a much lamented dead relative or lover in order to have sex with its victims.

Warnings: Major Character Death, Grieving, Dry Humping, Descriptions of Injuries

Quick Summary: while reminiscing about your husband, you have a strange dream that deeply upsets you.

Extra Notes: Happy Thursday! 3 more days until Halloween!

You weren’t shocked to see dust had collected on the bed sheets. It’s been a year since the accident, and it’s been a year since you’ve even stepped foot into this room. That morning you hadn’t felt like making the bed like you normally did, so you left it as is thus the dust collecting on top of the unmade bed.

You felt awkward being in here, even if it had only been a few minutes. You hadn’t so much as walked past the vanity on the wall opposite the bed, but you still felt as if you were intruding. This wasn’t entirely your room anymore, even if it did still belong to you. This was Jean’s room, and the person you were when he was still alive.

You took one final deep breath, turned around and closed the door behind you when you left the room. Maybe one day you can go back in there and sort through Jean’s clothing, it wasn’t like he would miss them. But today wasn’t the day, and tomorrow probably wouldn’t be the day either - it’s already been a full year since he left, so maybe in another year the day will finally arise.

Thinking about Jean always made your stomach hurt, even before he passed. You couldn’t help but remember that awful pain of bundled up nerves in the bottom of your stomach the first time he talked to you in that café. When he walked up to where you were sitting alone, and asked what you were working on, on your open laptop sitting in front of you.

You weren’t expecting the boy to even come up to you, nevermind talk to you. He had been staring at you from across the café for nearly an hour, and you kept catching him almost stepping in your direction but instead quickly sidestepping to go the other way. You wanted him to come up to you, but that was a lot to ask for especially since he was on the clock, was two years older than you, and-

You laughed weakly to yourself, “Another year and I’ve got you beat, Jeany.” You knew he couldn’t hear you, but you still liked to imagine he was listening. “You always loved reminding me how old you were, you always told me to respect your elders.” You laughed at Jean’s favorite words, but your laugh ran dry the more you thought about the fact that you’d never be able to hear him say it again.

It was like being told about climate change, and the very upsetting future our world was headed towards - being reminded of the hard truth hurt more than that bad thing actually happening. After a year of pain you realize that it’s not the days that you wake up remembering he’s not here anymore that hurt the most, it’s the days that you think he’s waiting for you in the kitchen downstairs with a cup of coffee just the way you like it. He always woke up before you, and he always made breakfast for you when he did, so of course you’d think he was waiting for you to finally join him in the kitchen. But, when you finally go into the kitchen, there is no breakfast and no Jean.

The stairs creaked underneath your body on your way downstairs. You went into the living room to the couch that you set up as your new bed a year ago. The living room didn’t even look like a living room anymore, but a second bedroom for you. On the coffee table and armchair sat piles of folded clothing around the couch with a stuffed animal - that Sasha had sent in the mail after she received the news of Jean’s passing - and a large blanket you bought to replace the dusty one from upstairs.

You sat down on your bed, and used the remote to turn on the tv for yourself. You started falling asleep to the light and sounds coming from the tv in front of the couch a year ago. Before Jean passed, he used to talk you to sleep; he’d tell you about his day, random memories, or anything he could think of, and when he was there to protect you, you never felt like you needed light to fall asleep when you had his arms instead. But, he was gone and that comfort he gave you was gone with him.

You laid down underneath the covers in the light that the tv provided, staring blankly at the cartoons bouncing across the screen. You knew if Jean was here, he’d say something about how Connie would love this show just because it was bright and made no sense to people with common sense. You knew you’d laugh, and push him, and remind him to be nicer to his friends. It would be a nice moment if Jean were here, but he wasn’t so the moment instead passed as yet another neutral one.

Your eyes eventually grew heavy, and your blinks grew slower. You could hardly keep your eyes open, and you didn’t really mind closing them, it wasn’t like you were missing anything important if you fell asleep right now. So, you allowed yourself to finally drift asleep.

You were suddenly in a car, driving down the street of your house. No music was playing from your radio, which is strange, but you were humming something soft to yourself. You pulled your car into your driveway, and put it in park before locking it and going inside your house.

You just came home from work which was obvious from your semi-formal outfit choice of the day. You took your high heels off and set it beside the door after entering your home. You locked the door behind you from force of habit and walked slowly down the hallway leading to the kitchen. You walked past framed pictures of family, friends, and most importantly, Jean.

You didn’t even glance at the picture of Jean that was sitting beside the lightswitch for the kitchen. It was your favorite picture of him, one you took on your first date with him. He had been focusing on opening the bottle of wine too much to notice his elbow deep into his spaghetti. He hated the picture, but always enjoyed the laughter that arose from you when you saw it, so he let you hang it up on the wall after you gifted him the picture in a frame for Christmas.

But, you didn’t even want to bother with pictures, when the real thing was standing right in front of you.

Jean leaned over the kitchen sink, scrubbing vigorously at the dishes with bright yellow rubber gloves on. You watched him from the entrance to the kitchen as he cursed at the bowl in his hands, covered in soap suds. There must’ve been a nasty stain on the dish because Jean was only a few seconds from throwing the whole dish away.

You giggled, blowing your cover. Jean hadn’t heard you enter the house, too focused on the dirty dishes. But, after hearing your sweet laugh from behind him, Jean finally turned around to you, slightly surprised by your seemingly sudden presence.

“Hi,” Jean said with a smile, “How was work?”

So, you did just come home from work.

“It was the same as always.” You walked across the kitchen towards him. “Same people, same problems, same cafeteria coffee.”

Jean set the dish back into the suds, “You make it sound so bad. Sometimes having a routine is nice.” Jean took his rubber gloves off and set them on the counter beside the sink. “Now, when the routine is taken away - that’s when things get bad-” Jean turned to you with raised eyebrows- “Right?”

You blinked at your husband, “Yeah, I guess. Anyways, what are you making for dinner?”

“Dinner?” Jean held his hand to his heart. “Why are you asking me about dinner, I’m the one doing the dishes, dinner is your problem.”

“What?” You laughed with emotionless shock, trying to keep the fake fight going. “We never agreed upon that deal!”

Jean laughed with you, “This is a tyranny, you don’t have the opportunity to disagree with anything. I decide everything.”

“So, you can make dinner, then? Since it’s your tyranny, right?”

“Touché.”

The kitchen grew quiet as the conversation quickly died. You didn’t really feel the need to talk at the moment. You kept watching Jean as a strange feeling settled in your stomach. You couldn’t help but feel like even though Jean was so close to you, just across the room from you, you still felt like he was a whole lifetime away.

You watched intently as Jean went about his day so normally. He had discarded his rubber dish scrubbing gloves, and had now moved onto looking through paper menus for what to buy at some local restaurants. He furrowed his eyebrows as he read over the menu items, probably trying to decide on what to get himself as well as for you.

“Honey,” You said in a soft voice as you walked across the room towards him, “Why are you looking at menus?” You smiled wide, trying to hide the laugh bubbling up from your stomach. “I was assuming you were going to make dinner. Like, a romantic candle lit dinner, like we used to have when you still liked me.”

“Babe.” Jean smiled, but you could tell he was trying to keep a straight face. “That’s impossible, because I never liked you.”

“Jean!” You smacked your husband’s chest with a hard thud.

“I’m kidding,” Jean shouted with a laugh, “And, I’m not cooking anything tonight, unless you want me to, of course - but, we already agreed on ordering something so-”

“We did?” You stared at Jean with heavily furrowed eyebrows. You must’ve forgotten the last ten minutes of conversation with him because you couldn’t remember ever agreeing upon anything like that.

Jean tilted his head at you with a grin across his lips, “Yeah? Don’t you remember, it happened just a minute ago? Maybe you’re losing it, hun.” Jean gave your forehead a flick before turning back to the paper menu in his hand.

Maybe you were losing it. Why couldn’t you remember that conversation at all? And, he said it happened only a minute ago? But, that doesn’t make any sense, you had been quietly admiring him for so long. There was no way you agreed upon anything during that time, but maybe Jean asked the question about ordering in tonight and took your wide eyed silence as a yes. But, that just wasn’t like Jean to assume something from silence, the whole thing was just strange.

“Okay,” You spoke slowly, afraid of missing another minute of conversation, “Well, then it’s settled that we’re eating in tonight.”

Jean looked at you from over the menu, “How hungry are you right now?”

“A normal amount, wait-” You pressed your hand to your stomach and didn’t feel the rumble of hunger deep inside- “Yeah, a normal amount, why?”

Jean grinned, “How about we both eat in and eat out tonight?” Jean raised a single eyebrow with his question. You were sure he was making an innuendo of some sort, but you couldn’t think of what. All you could hear yourself thinking was, won’t we be too full?

“Um,” You said hesitantly, “I guess we can do that.”

“You don’t know what I’m saying, do you?”

The joke suddenly hit you, “Oh my god, Jean!”

“Come on.” Jean laughed as he threw the menu aside. “Time to eat up.”

With newly free hands, Jean now attempted his next trick. He bent forward, wrapping his arms around your waist, and slung you onto his shoulder. You were now face to back with Jean, and you gently slapped your hands against his ass, in an attempt to persuade him to drop you, as he walked you around the house.

You watched the floor for any indication of where Jean was taking you. The floor faded from tiles into hardwood and then into carpeted stairs as your body bounced against his shoulder with each step. You gripped hard to Jean’s waist, trying to suppress the fear that was bubbling up inside of you from seeing the stairs from this angle.

Jean laughed as he finally reached the top of the stairs, “Baby, seriously, you’re fine with me - I’m not dropping you, I won’t let you go.”

“You better not.” Your grip loosened on Jean’s waist as you realized how deeply your trust for him ran. He wouldn’t drop you, you really are fine with him.

The floor in front of you turned back to hardwood which indicated you were finally upstairs. No more bouncing on his shoulder or fear of falling face first into the stairs he was walking up under you. Jean then opened a door, and the floor switched from the hardwood to carpet. You could admit that from the beginning, you knew where Jean was taking you, but now you knew where you were - you were in the bedroom.

In one swing of his arms, as if you were a bag of potatoes and not a human being, Jean tossed you onto the bed in front of him. Your back hit the soft bed, and you laughed as you looked up at him standing over you. Jean looked down at you as well, his eyes were wide with admiration, and you swore you could even see the glimmer of tears daring to fall from his eyelids.

Jean joined you on the bed, crawling over top of you. As he took his time getting to your lips, he made sure to stop at different parts of your body and give attention to them on his way to your face. He kissed your clothed thigh, your hip, your stomach, the cup of your breasts, and finally your face. He smiled down at you before he finally got to kiss your lips.

“Hello,” Jean said in a sweet tone as if it had been too long since he last saw you.

You smiled back at Jean, “Hello.”

Jean finally let his lips meet yours, he gave an extra gentle kiss to your lips. You weren’t sure if it was the feeling of him being so far away earlier or maybe the moments you had missed in the kitchen, but you didn’t want to be innocent with him. You felt passionate right now, and you wanted Jean to feel that passion from both your lips and your body.

You took control over your moment with Jean. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and brought his body closer to yours. You kissed him roughly, introducing your tongue to his mouth with a sensual slowness. You could even hear Jean groan against your mouth with the movement - you couldn’t say you were surprised by his reaction, you knew how much he loved being reminded of what your tongue could do.

Your lips awakened something in Jean’s attitude, no longer attempting to be sweet and innocent, Jean was now just as desperate as you were. Your lips struggled to stay with each other as you kissed wherever on his face your mouth could find. You kissed over his lips, his cheeks, his chin, and even scratched the soft skin of your lips as you ended up kissing his rough stubble.

“Jean,” You moaned his name into his mouth, “I want more.”

Jean could melt from just those words and the way you said it. But, when you reached for the waistband of your slacks, fumbling clumsily for the zipper, Jean felt his entire body get hot with desire for you. You finally loosened your pants, letting the fabric fall open for Jean to whatever he pleased with.

“Not yet,” Jean whispered breathlessly into your mouth, “Let’s take our time, please.”

It wasn’t like Jean to want to take anything slow, so this moment must be really important to him. Hell, he didn’t even want to take his time after he met you. He asked you out on a date for the very next night, and even wanted to make it official after the first kiss. He even proposed to you only a year into the relationship, and far sooner than anybody else in your life. Jean took life by storm every single day, so for him to want to take this moment slow with you made your stomach flutter with butterflies.

You nodded against Jean’s face, “Okay, we can go slower.” You kissed Jean gently down his neck and then pressed your mouth to his ear. “Here, let me take control.”

Jean let you take control in the situation, flipping him onto his back and situating yourself on top of him. You looked down at the boy below you, looking at how pretty he looked with his reddened face, wild looking hazel eyes, and messy long brown hair splayed out on the pillow beneath his head.

In a moment of haziness, you almost thought the bed had been a mess; both unmade and covered in a thick layer of dust from months of being unused. But, after a quick check of your surroundings, both the bedroom and the bed itself looked completely normal. No dust, no umade sheets, and no missing clothing. This room was just as you remembered it, perfectly normal.

“What’s wrong?” Jean moved his hands down your sides and slid his hands into the waist of your pants to touch your bare hips. “You look worried about something.”

You shook your head slightly, “It’s nothing.”

You leaned down to kiss Jean again, trying to help him ignore your unnatural behavior. It was as if your mind was playing tricks on itself, and it was kind of scaring you. You’d never actually tell Jean that because you’re afraid of how he’d react, but you couldn’t help the uneasiness that came with your sudden forgetting problem.

As your lips moved with Jean’s lips, you felt his fingers dig into the skin on your hips. You felt as Jean’s rough touch slowly turned from a way to grip himself to Earth, and more a way to grind his hips into you from below. He moved your body against his body with a slow proficiency, even moaning into your mouth with each grind of your body on top of his.

You laughed breathlessly into Jean’s mouth, “I thought you wanted to take things slow?”

“I did.” Jean chuckled lowly to you. “But, now I don’t think I can handle going slow anymore.”

You took Jean’s words as a bit of a challenge, if he didn’t want it slow, then you were going to make him want it again. You rolled your hips delicately against his body, ignoring and going against the direction of his rough guiding hands. If he didn’t want to take it slow anymore, then you were going to prove to him that he shouldn’t have changed his mind.

Jean groaned low in his throat from feeling your body hit spots of him that he couldn’t reach when he was in control. Jean didn’t stop trying to change your movements, but now out of desperation. You felt as he desperately clung to your hips for dear life. He wasn’t used to being on the bottom, and it was driving him crazy in all of the right ways.

“Baby,” Jean mumbled against your mouth, “Baby, look at me, please look at me - I need to see you.”

You leaned back and looked at Jean, and immediately regretted it. Jean didn’t look how he did in the kitchen, he didn’t look like himself at all. Of course, under all of the blood you could recognize the face as the one you’ve loved for so long, but upon first glance, he was just a bloody body.

Jean’s entire right side of his face was where the blood was mostly coming from. There were glass shards lodged into his cheek and forehead, and blood splattered across the left side of his face from the cuts. Jean’s head wasn’t up straight either, where he normally had excellent posture and a long lean neck, he now had it stuck at an uncomfortably impossible angle. And, blood spewed from Jean’s mouth, dripping from his lips as he spoke to you.

“Baby,” Jean said in his normally sweet tone, “I love you, always remember that, okay?”

Your eyes were filled with tears as you stared at him, “Jean what the-”

“Just,” Jean continued despite his gruesome state, “I’m okay, and you should be too.”

Your eyes snapped open suddenly. Your heart was racing in your chest. You could hardly breathe as you looked around the area around you. The tv was still playing cartoons innocently in front of you, and you were still comfortably tucked into your blanket on the living room couch. Nothing seemed off, and nothing seemed out of place - and unfortunately, there was no Jean in this reality.

You took deep breaths to calm your still quickly beating heart. You didn’t know why you would dream of something so awful, yet something you were so sickeningly envious of. You didn’t care what Jean looked like or if he was permanently bleeding from never healing wounds, you would prefer he be here than somewhere you couldn’t reach him. Even if your dream self was suffering horribly from such a nightmare scenario, she was so lucky because at least she still had Jean.

You know dreams have meanings, even the scary ones that settle new fears in your heart. You wondered what that dream could mean, and you weren’t completely sure. But, you supposed maybe it was trying to convince you to move on - well, maybe not on but moving back into the bedroom would be a nice start.

And maybe Jean really did come to you in that dream, maybe he came back to help you move on. It would explain how scarily accurate he looked, both in his very much alive state and in his less alive state. It would also explain how warm the dream made you feel, from the tender moment with Jean in the kitchen to just coming home from a job you haven’t been to in six months. And, most importantly, it would explain why you could still feel Jean’s hands on your skin, like each touch he gave you was actually an invisible tattoo on your body.

The Worst Wingman - Tiger’s Eye and Gold

(Chapter 2 / 3)

Jean x Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Previous Chapter

Warnings: Mentions of vomiting, Implied sex

Summary: Jean sucks at picking blind dates for you, but at least he’s trying. After one final attempt at finding love at the hands of Jean, he goes on a double date with you and the newest boy he’s thrown onto you. The boy is everything you never knew you needed, and Jean has to push down his growing feelings at the idea of you being happy without him.

Notes: I am not shitting on polpette di cavallo or the consumption of horse meat in general, I understand that it is a popular Italian dish and I was only mocking my ignorance towards the subject! (Plus, I thought it’d be funny to make a horse joke in a Jean x Reader)

Second Saturday

The night air wasn’t chilly, but you stayed by Jean’s side nonetheless. You pressed against his arm, using his body heat to keep yourself warm. And, Jean didn’t mind the close company - he actually liked it when you got close to him, it was the same reason he cuddled with you so often.

You and Jean stood outside of an unfamiliar restaurant, waiting for the last two people of the party to show up and to inform the hostess of their reservation. You normally hated double dates because the other couple always seemed to have more fun than you. But, you felt safe by Jean’s side, you knew he’d go as far as blatantly ignoring his date if it meant he got to have one conversation with you. Maybe that was selfish to think, but you didn’t mind, you’d probably never use him anyways - only keeping him as plan B in a worst case scenario.

But, you surprisingly had faith. Maybe - just maybe - this date will be your last one in a very long time. Maybe you would fall in love with this football player. Maybe you’d marry him and eventually start a family. Maybe you’d make sure to visit this same restaurant every anniversary - a physical monument of where your love had sprouted.

And then, as the years ticked by in your relationship, maybe you’d find yourselves growing sick of each other. Maybe you’d come home early from work and find him fucking his secretary over his desk in his home office. Maybe you’d stay with him, but only for the kids. Maybe - just maybe - you’d be able to ignore the whole affair just to pretend you love him for a few more years until your eventual death.

Oh God, love was exhausting - even to think about. And, it always seemed to end in pain, no matter how in love the couple seemed to be once upon a time.

It was hard to ignore the facts, and the inevitable ending to all things good. It was hard to ignore the over 50% of people who got divorced each year. And, it was hard to pretend you were more deserving of a lifelong fantastic marriage full of love and laughter just because-

“What are you thinking about?” Jean asked with a giggle.

You looked up at the boy, your eyebrows furrowed, “Huh?”

Jean smiled wide, “You look like you’re going to be sick.” He looked around quickly, taking in the sight of the other couples also waiting for a table inside. “Do you want to leave? We can go back to mine and forget this entire night was supposed to happen.”

“No,” You said quickly, “I want to meet him. You went through so much work to convince him to go on this date, why would I throw that away so easily?”

“Not really.” Jean frowned lightly as he looked past you, clearly reliving memories in his head, “I didn’t really do anything, actually.”

It was true, all Jean had to do was show the football player a picture of you and he was in. Jean had started the conversation by asking the football player’s schedule for the next weekend and if he was free for a date that Saturday. At first, the boy continuously refused any date, saying he needed the day to practice before the next game, but Jean showed the boy a picture instead of arguing with his words.

The football player fell completely silent, staring at Jean’s phone with widened eyes. It was hard to say no to a date with you - to put it simply, you were a goddess. The football player continued to stare at the picture of you, taken last Halloween when you and Jean had dressed as a witch and her black cat familiar; you being the witch and Jean being your cat. It was Jean’s favorite picture of you because you showed your candid smile as you laughed at one of Jean’s jokes, instead of your fake smile you saved for pictures.

The football player quickly agreed to the date after seeing the picture. He gave Jean his number, urging Jean to text him the time and place. He’d be there, the football player promised, he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

“Sure,” You said sarcastically, “I’m sure you had to promise him a month’s supply of-” You took a moment to remember what football players liked other than football- “Steroids.”

“Seriously?” Jean asked with a laugh, “Keep the steroids jokes to a minimum when he shows up, okay?” Jean furrowed his eyebrows. “Actually, don’t mention steroids at all when he gets here.”

You sighed, “If it’s any consolation, I was going to say protein powder.” You turned to Jean, slightly tilting your head. “Can I make protein powder jokes when he’s here?”

Jean frowned at you, “I guess-”

“And,” You added with a grin, “Can I make shoulder pad jokes?”

“I suppose-”

“And, can I make football field jokes? Or, is that too much as well?”

“Okay,” Jean said as he threw an arm around your shoulders, “I see what you’re doing.” Jean shoved your face into his chest which had always been his favorite way to shut you up. You inhaled the familiar scent of his clothes, and the unfamiliar scent of a new cologne he wore specifically for this date. “You’re such a smart ass.”

You pushed your head out from between his chest and arm, “You’re ruining my hair, you bastard!”

Jean laughed as he pulled you closer to him, “It still looks great, don’t worry about it.”

“Hey, Jean,” A new voice said from only a few feet away, “And-”

Jean pushed you from his body, allowing you to extend a single hand in the blonde boy’s direction, “Hi, it’s lovely to meet you.” You told the boy your name before he finally introduced himself.

The boy shook your hand with a strong grasp, “I’m Reiner-”

“And, I’m Pieck,” A black haired girl said as she poked her head out from behind Reiner’s broad back. The girl stood in front of Jean and smiled up at him, “And, I suppose you’re my date. Unless she is-” Pieck glanced at you- “Which I’m more than okay with as well.”

“No,” Jean said quickly, “I am.”

“Awesome,” Pieck said with a smile, “Is there a table being readied for us inside or-”

“I have a reservation,” Reiner said, “The table should’ve been readied about ten minutes ago, when we were supposed to be here - Pieck - if you didn’t take an hour just to pick a dress.”

Pieck smiled wide though her words were drenched in venom, “I thought you said you’d stop mentioning that once we got here, Reiner.” Pieck turned to her friend with a tilt of her head. “Am I correct?”

Reiner’s face dropped as well as his stomach, “Of course, I’m sorry, Pieck.”

“So,” Jean said to fill the new silence that had settled, “You all think we should head inside now?”

“Yes!” Pieck said as she ran to Jean’s side, sliding her arm around his and pulling him off towards the front doors of the restaurant. You couldn’t help but pout at their backs as they walked off, noticing how close they immediately got with each other and even the new smile plastered across Jean’s face.

“And,” A gentle voice said suddenly from your left, “‘You ready to head inside as well?”

You looked at the boy by your side and took in the sight of his arm thrusted in your direction. His arm was thick, as much as a football player’s arm is supposed to be. And - if you looked close enough - you could see where his muscle was bulging beneath the fabric of his button down shirt and where the veins of his arms were protruding from within his skin.

You walked inside the restaurant by Reiner’s side, intertwining your arm with his. He talked briefly with the hostess at the entrance, and then walked with you as the group was led to a large table in the back. The table was sensually dimmed and if you were here with only one person, you were sure you would end the night in their arms - the atmosphere was enough to cause your heart rate to accelerate and butterflies to flutter around in your stomach.

You took the seat across from your date, and Pieck quickly took the seat to your right. The night started slowly, a light stream of conversation amongst the four of you. You talked about the general information of each person; their college major, their hobbies, their living situations, their weekend plans, and anything else someone could think of in the heat of the moment.

The night was going swimmingly, you ordered the white wine and a dish going by the name of polpette di cavallo which you hadn’t given much thought to before ordering. It was a smaller dish than what you were originally expecting, a white porcelain plate with a mysterious brown substance surrounding three meatballs.

You pushed your fork and knife through the slightly charred meat, cutting the balls into consumable pieces. You continued to talk with the group and - more specifically - Reiner. You found out more about the boy you were on the date with, from his personal life to his football career to his plans after college.

He was sweet, he was funny, and he always gave you time to speak - continuously asking you questions about yourself.

But, unfortunately for him, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Jean. He talked with Pieck to your right, and you couldn’t help but listen to every word exchanged between the two. Even going as far as cutting into their conversation a few times and answering a question clearly directed at Jean.

“And then,” You said in response to Pieck’s question, “Jean went back to the party to pick Connie up because he finally realized he left him behind!”

Pieck giggled loudly, “That’s amazing!” She completely turned in her seat, now facing you instead of her date. “Then, what happened?”

You leaned closer to the girl, “Then, he called and begged me to meet him at the party.” You grinned wider. “Because, he didn’t want to leave again after going back.”

Pieck quickly turned back to Jean, “Why didn’t you want to leave? Even after Sasha threw that drink in your face?” Pieck then looked back at you. “And, why did he call you to come to the party as well?”

You furrowed your eyebrows at Pieck, “I’m actually not sure-”

Jean shrugged lightly, “I just- I wanted another beer and I needed somebody to drive me home afterwards.”

You turned your gaze to Jean, your eyes lit  with a new fury. That was why he called you that night? For a damn ride, not even for your company? It was always strange to you how Jean could be so casually cruel. He’d speak before thinking and end up breaking a piece of your heart without  noticing - and he did it frequently.

“Seriously,” The word was drenched in hurt as you shouted it across the table at Jean, “That’s seriously all you called me for? You just wanted a ride, Kirstein?”

Jean scratched the back of his neck, “I know you don’t really like drinking so I wasn’t worried about you getting drunk-”

“What do you mean I don’t like drinking?” You thrusted your hand towards your half-full glass of white wine. “I drink all of the time, I’m a real maniac.”

Jean smiled, “Oh, you’re crazy-” Jean leaned on the table, coming closer to you- “I mean, you really are a maniac -  How can you possibly slowly sip white wine at an Italian restaurant?”

And, as quickly as Jean could upset you and break your heart, he could just as quickly mend your broken parts.

You bit your lip to hide your new smile, “I can go crazy-” You leaned towards Jean as well- “Sometimes, I sip from your beers and then I immediately regret it because it’s gross.”

“Oh,” Jean giggled with the word, “You’re wild.”

It was like time had stopped completely - which seemed to happen a lot when around Jean. You were sure it was because he was too beautiful not to stare at, and Father Time helped you by stopping everything altogether. Or, you thought the effect of time stopping was purely psychological considering how deeply you knew the boy. But, whatever the reason, time stopped nonetheless.

You sat motionless, only looking into Jean’s eyes - a color reminding you of a tiger's eye crystal. And - like a tiger’s eye crystal - Jean seemed to radiate confidence and strength, and gave you an unknown balance to your own being. Jean was your second half, a part of you that you hadn’t known was missing. He was like the second half of an undone puzzle or-

“How’s your-” Reiner said, suddenly breaking the moment between you and Jean- “Your- uh, po- polpette-”

“Polpette di cavallo,” Pieck finished Reiner’s sentence for him.

Reiner nodded briskly, “That.” He smiled wide at you. “How is that?”

“It’s good,” You said as you scanned the plate in front of you, “It’s very thick, I think they used a different part of the cow than what I’m used to.” You glanced at the three faces watching you intently. “Maybe the stomach? I don’t know what part they use for hamburgers, I don’t really like thinking about it.”

Pieck giggled and pushed your shoulder lightly, “You’re kidding, right?”

You widened your eyes at the girl, “Oh, is it not the stomach?” You cleared your throat. “Then, the- the thighs?”

“No, silly,” Pieck said with a smile, “That’s not beef-” Pieck thrusted at the meat still sitting on the plate in front of you- “That’s chavelin.”

You gave Pieck a blank face, “Chave- what?”

“Chavelin.” Pieck tilted her head at you. “You know, horse meat?”

Suddenly, the chavelin was making another entrance, just this time coming back up. You smashed a hand over your mouth as the horse meat mingled with your stomach acid, begging to be back on the plate in front of you. You made quick eyes around the table; first at Pieck who was rubbing your shoulder soothingly and asking what was wrong, then to Reiner who was leaning across the table with wide eyes, and then to Jean who was already standing, gesturing you towards the bathroom.

Jean, sweet Jean, you felt strangely guilty for consuming the meat but - oddly enough - he didn’t seem to mind. At least, he didn’t look like he minded as you ran off towards the bathroom, your high heels clicking quickly against the fancy tiles of the Italian restaurant.

You swung the bathroom door open, ignoring the cringeworthy smash that erupted through the room once the door hit the wall behind it. There were other women in the bathroom, but you ignored them as you made your way to the first open stall you could find. The women watched curiously as you fell to your knees in front of the toilet, threatening to throw up the food you had so mindlessly eaten for the last hour and a half.

Nothing came out though, only a few breathless burps into the toilet bowl. You sat there for a few minutes longer than you needed to, sitting against the marble-tiled wall beside the toilet. You pressed your face against the tiles lightly, letting the coolness calm down your sweating skin.

“This is the women’s restroom,” A woman’s voice said from beside the sink.

“I’m sorry,” A familiar voice said back, “I’m just here checking up on somebody. She got sick, I’m here to-”

You lightly pushed the bathroom stall open, leaning against the edge of the door. You smiled weakly at Jean, standing with two middle-aged women who you remembered briefly from when you ran in here. He seemed to be aggressively convincing them of his honesty, swinging his arms around ferociously with his words. And upon seeing you standing in the doorway, the women finally believed him and didn’t try stopping him any further.

“Hi,” You said delicately from across the few feet separating you and Jean, “This is the women’s restroom, what are you doing in here?”

Jean bit back his smile, “I thought you might want some company.” Jean crossed the steps between you, now only a few inches away. “Nobody deserves to puke alone.”

You lightly pushed Jean’s shoulder with a giggle, “You’re ridiculous, but thank you-” You turned around and opened your arms to the inside of the empty bathroom stall- “And, welcome to my humble abode.”

“Oh,” Jean said with a smile, “I like what you did with the place.”

You grinned, “Thank you, I just got done with renovations, so I appreciate that.”

“And,” Jean quickly added as he pointed towards the lone sink in the corner, “The kitchen area looks very nice.”

You shrugged, “I tried to go for something a bit more modern and minimalistic.”

Jean breathlessly giggled by your side, “Well, you succeeded.”

Jean let you take the first seat, watching as you found your spot beside the toilet with the side of your face against the tiled wall. Jean then joined you on the floor, sitting by your side and pressing the side of his face against the tiled wall, but only so he could make eye contact with you.

The bathroom got silent a minute after Jean joined you in the stall. You supposed the other women were either staying quiet in order to eavesdrop or left to return to their dinners. Either way - you didn’t care if the women were there or not - you were going to talk to Jean freely in your secret space.

You weren’t sure why the bathroom now felt sacred to you. It wasn’t at the end of the Labyrinth for only the worthy to find. Instead, it was a bathroom in an Italian restaurant with a purely Italian menu that you should have used Google Translate for. But, it felt like you and Jean’s secret space, a place where you two could always find each other and could spend the rest of eternity together. Nothing bad happened within these stall walls, and nobody was eating horse meat for the past hour and a half within these stall walls.

“Do you remember when we first met?” Jean suddenly asked in an attempt to fill the comfortable silence in the bathroom.

You nodded lightly, “Yeah, of course I do.”

You had met Jean at a house party freshman year of college. You were invited since your roommate at the time was sleeping with the home-owner which happened to be one of Jean’s closest friends. And - ironically - you met Jean on the bathroom floor in that house at that fateful party nearly two years ago. It was strange how things went full circle.

Jean leaned his shoulder into your own, “Do you remember why we even started talking that night?”

You grinned to yourself, “Yeah, I do.”

You only started talking to Jean that night because you found him crying on the floor of the bathroom when you went to find your roommate. He was tipsy and had just seen his ex-girlfriend - who he was clearly not over - downstairs, dancing with another man. You had a bag of popcorn that your roommate begged you to make for her, but you instead offered it to Jean and joined him on the bathroom floor.

Jean tilted his head towards you, “Do you remember what you said to me?”

You looked into Jean’s eyes through your thick eyelashes, “Yes, I remember.”

While sitting on the bathroom floor together, Jean ranted to you about his ex-girlfriend and even the new guy she was dancing with. You heard about why they broke up, who she moved onto, and why he couldn’t bring himself to move on. You then leaned into his side on that bathroom floor, whispering one phrase you had been telling yourself for years.

Jean smiled to himself, “When you go looking for gold, you end up finding fool’s gold - so don’t go looking at all.”

“Let the gold come to you.” You whispered back to Jean, finishing your own quote from two years ago. You hadn’t known the words were so monumentous, you thought nothing of the quote and yet it stayed with him all of these years.

“I followed your advice,” Jean said matter-of-factly, “I followed your advice so well - actually - that I even started to push the gold away when it was just within reach.” Jean looked down at his fingers fiddling with the fabric of his slacks. “I set her up on a hundred horrible dates hoping I could forget about her for only a moment. But, I couldn’t forget about her, even if somebody wiped my memory.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot as you smiled at Jean, “That doesn’t even make sense.” Jean looked at like a wounded deer, wide scared eyes taking up all of your sight. “You can’t remember me if your memory was wiped - that’s not possible.”

“I’d manage,” Jean said with newly red cheeks, “I couldn’t forget you, even if the government tried to make me.”

You pushed Jean’s shoulder playfully, “Nuh-uh - you’re a liar, Kirstein.”

Jean shook his head, “Nope, I’ll always remember you.” He leaned his head in towards you. “I’ll remember your laugh and that little wrinkle you get between your eyebrows when I do something stupid.”

“Oh,” You said with a playful furrow of your brow, “‘You mean the wrinkle I get when you do anything?”

Jean grinned lightly, “Yeah, that one.” He continued leaning in closer until he was only a whisper away. “And how you taste like tropical fruits - like lemons and coconut.”

“And,” You whispered to his mouth, “How do you know what I taste like?”

Jean smiled, “I just intend on finding out.” His lips were pressed lightly against your own, his hand on the side of your head. “So, can I find out?”

You nodded, “Please do.”

Jean gently pressed his lips to yours, and the feeling made your stomach flip with excitement. You moved your legs closer to his, bare thighs on clothed thighs and the hem of your dress shifting up to your hips. You didn’t mind the new coldness spreading over your legs because your insides felt unbearably hot when kissing him.

The softness of Jean’s lips weren’t anything new to you. You had kissed Jean before, a soft smooch during a drunk game of spin the bottle - but never like this. His lips tasted like blueberry vodka last time you tasted them, but now his lips tasted like rosé and mint - a byproduct of the wine he had been drinking all night and the mint he sucked on before you ran off towards the bathroom - It wasn’t the best taste, but you weren’t complaining.

“I’m glad you waited for me,” You whispered into Jean’s mouth.

It became extremely clear to you at some point of the night just how much Jean means to you. Maybe because of one of the many times when you caught Jean’s eyes looking into your own. Or, one of the many times you noticed Jean talking to you when telling a story, as if you were the only one there with him. Or, one of the many times when you watched Jean fiddle mindlessly with the top of his wine glass, his eyes never leaving your frame - mentally undressing you in front of everybody in the restaurant and both of your dates.

He couldn’t help it though, he’s always loved how you looked in that black satin dress. It seemed everybody liked the dress, considering both Reiner and Pieck couldn’t keep their eyes off of your frame as well. Reiner and Pieck, who were still waiting at that table, hoping for some word from their dates who now found themselves sucking face in the women’s restroom.

“Jean,” You whispered, “We should head back.”

Jean sighed, “Okay.”

So, you did. You left the bathroom with Jean and eventually the restaurant, planning on going to where you normally did after dates - Jean’s apartment. It wasn’t easy saying goodbye to such a nice guy like Reiner knowing there wouldn’t be a second date, and it wasn’t easy saying no to Pieck’s offer of a second date with just her, and it especially wasn’t easy staring into that half-finished plate of polpette di cavallo until you and Jean finally made your exit.

The car ride was mostly quiet, both of you ignoring the obvious elephant in the room - what the hell happened in the bathroom. You didn’t regret the conversation on the bathroom floor or even the kiss that came afterwards, but you did regret ever cutting the kiss short. You searched your mind for some way back to that moment, thinking of a plan of either building and operating a time machine or trying again with Jean.

“So,” You said, “Pieck seems nice.”

Jean grinned to himself, “So does Reiner.”

You nodded slowly and turned to look out of the window, “‘Think there will be a second date with her?”

“If you’re having a second date with Reiner.” Jean spared a glance from the road in order to look at you. “‘Think there will be a second date with him?”

“Eh, he’s not really my type.”

Jean stopped the car at a red light. The color red seeped through the windshield, turning the inside of the car a bright crimson. Jean’s features were lit up by the light as his gaze danced across every inch of your face.

“He’s not?” Jean asked, “Then, what’s your type?”

You furrowed your brow, “Are you stupid?”

Jean smiled wide, “What are you saying?”

You shook your head and leaned forward, caressing Jean’s cheeks gently. You pressed your lips to his, smiling against his mouth. Jean kissed you back, quickly turning a sensual peck into a feverish makeout.

You felt Jean’s hands as they moved up the soft fabric of your dress. His fingers moved across your side and then wrapped around your body, landing on your back. He used the new position to pull you closer, much to your surprise considering the gasp that escaped from between your lips to the movement.

You wrapped your arms around Jean’s neck, pulling his face in closer. You pushed your tongue towards his mouth, and he gladly let it enter between his lips. You felt his breath hitch in his throat when you curled your tongue and swiped it across the roof of his mouth. Jean responded to the kiss with a tight grip on your dress only bringing you in-

A car suddenly honked it’s horn from behind you. Jean and you pulled apart as quickly as possible, ignoring that anything had happened. You slowly wiped your thumb across your bottom lip, smearing the wetness from the kiss onto your fingertip.

The rest of the ride was brutal, your desire for Jean was only getting unbearable. He didn’t even have to do anything. His fingers curving around the steering wheel made your heart pound. His slight head bob to the music quietly playing from the radio made your stomach inflate with nerves. And, his perfect posture in the driver’s seat made you want to groan with how badly you wanted him.

It was ridiculous, you were turning into a prepubescent boy - finding anything and everything Jean did as the epitome of attraction.

The car couldn’t have pulled into the apartment building’s parking lot any sooner. You were practically melting in Jean’s passenger seat and you needed to feel him again, you didn’t care why. You opened the car door and eventually walked alongside Jean towards his apartment complex.

You silently walked into the apartment building with Jean, and even rode up the elevator just as quiet. You waited beside him as he unlocked his apartment door. You watched as the muscles in his back moved under his shirt as he attempted to hold the door and unlock it at the same time - a trick the lock needed since the apartment was so old.

Once inside, you quickly kicked your shoes off, leaving them to lay with his shoes. You dropped your purse with the shoes as well, leaving it on the floor beside the door. And once you had discarded your unneeded items, you stood there - waiting for a sign from him, any sign at all.

Jean crossed his arms against his chest, his eyes landing on anything in the room but you. He peered across the kitchen and living room, even eyeing his bedroom door for a few seconds. Jean sighed before mumbling into the awkwardly silent room.

“So,” Jean said, “What do you want to do?”

You pressed your lips together, “I liked what we were doing in the car.” Jean suddenly looked at you, his eyes widened. “And, in the bathroom at the restaurant.”

Jean grinned to himself, “‘You wanna do that again?”

“Yes.” You nodded. “I do.”

Jean crossed the space between you, swooping his arms around you and pressing your chest into his. You bent your head upwards, giving Jean more room as his mouth pressed kisses into your neck and cheek. You giggled with your words as you attempted to speak.

“Jean,” You said as you pushed your fingers through his soft hair. You moved Jean’s face back enough to make eye contact with him. “‘Race you to the bedroom?”

Jean never thought he could let go of you in general, never mind quicker than he’s ever done anything before in his life. As soon as you were out his arms, Jean was running towards his bedroom door. You tried to beat him though, grabbing his arm and pulling him backwards, but nothing stopped him - he beat you into the bedroom.

You left the door open in front of you, standing back as Jean threw his discarded clothes from the bedroom floor and into his laundry basket - a half assed attempt at cleaning up. You supposed the gesture was nice, considering he wanted to clean up for you. But, it was even nicer knowing Jean had never seen his date with Pieck ending here.  

Your eyes peered across the entirety of his bedroom, something so familiar now with a different connotation. You’ve touched Jean plenty of times in this very room, but not the way you’re about to. You knew that after tonight, everything would be different between you two - but a good type of different that filled you with hope.

Your eyes landed on the alarm clock on his bedside table, the red numbers flickering suddenly from 11:59 to 12:00.

Second Sunday

Jean’s body weight was crushing on top of you, but a type of crushing weight that was comfortable. You swore you could live under Jean’s body for the rest of eternity. He was warm and strong and his kissing only made the position all that much better.

Your dress was on the floor and you were mostly naked, lying on Jean’s bed with only a bra and panties on. He pressed his bare chest into your chest, the only clothes on his body being his pair of slacks and the brown belt holding them up.

“Jean,” You breathed into his mouth, “I want you.”

Jean groaned against your lips, the sound coming from deep within his throat. He had never thought he’d hear those words from your lips, he never thought he’d be good enough to. But alas, here you were; underneath him, mostly naked, whispering gut wrenching phrases into his mouth.

You moved your hands down his lean body, dainty fingers finding the waistline of his pants. You undid the belt around his waist and threw it to the floor once it was out of the belt loops. You then brought your hands to his zipper, undoing that as well.

You pushed Jean’s slacks down his legs, moving them out of the way in order to free enough space for what you really wanted from him at the moment. You curled your hands around his body, digging your nails into his back in an attempt to bring him closer. You pressed your fingers into the small of his back as you bucked your hips upwards towards him.

You felt as Jean’s hardness pressed down between your legs, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped from between your lips. Jean moved his lips from yours, allowing more panting breaths to escape from your mouth as he continued to press down into you. He instead kissed down your neck, taking in each moan and ingraining them into his memory.

You moved your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, and pushed them down over his hips. He was just as big as you had always assumed. You weren’t perverted or dirty minded per say, but some nights you’d catch yourself with an excessive amount of questions; you’d wonder about his size, if he were good in bed, and if he had ever satisfied a woman before.

Sure enough, your questions would be answered after tonight.

You brought your hips to his, feeling him through only one layer of clothing now. You brought your hips off of the bed, pushing your panties down over your thighs. You awkwardly moved your legs around Jean’s, attempting to kick the fabric to the floor.

Jean brought his mouth to your ear before breathily whispering, “Do you still want me?”

You nodded frantically, “Yes, yes- yes, please.”

Jean grinned at your response, finally bringing his hips to yours. It was a moment you had waited for for much longer than you thought. This moment was in the distance for two whole years, and now it was finally here. You had wanted this for so long, to the point where you’d take anything Jean would give you - such as a drunken peck and a date with nearly every man on campus.

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