𖦹 jean kirstein takes care of you when you're anxious.
caretaker!jean who remembers your food / drink orders everywhere in case you're too nervous to talk to strangers. if it happens to be wrong, he knows right away and fixes it before it can even upset you.
caretaker!jean who knows exactly what you need just by one look. if words become too much, your relationship is so much more than just verbality.
caretaker!jean who takes you on nature walks / runs every day to get out any negative energy and clear your head. it helps him almost as much as it helps you.
caretaker!jean who uses grounding techniques on you when you're struggling without you even realizing. asks you to take deep breaths, name everything around you that's a specific color or shape, or ask you to tell him what you smell in that moment.
caretaker!jean who walks you through your anxieties and struggles, helping you to check the facts and stay away from extremities.
caretaker!jean who would never, ever, make you feel insecure about your feelings. controlling feelings and fears are next to impossible. that being said, he will help you process those feelings so you act in the calmest way possible.
caretaker!jean who will ground you with his touch whenever he can. touching arms, thighs, foreheads. he'll press his head to yours and stay there until you feel better.
caretaker!jean who rests his hand on your thigh when you bounce your leg. not in a way that makes you feel like you have to stop, but in a way that makes you feel less alone.
caretaker!jean who hugs you until you let go. even if it's for an hour, he doesn't care.
tired of me yet? i'm almost spamming these atp. hope u like it though!
These are just some hcs that I have of eren jaeger. I will eventually write a story that includes all of these
—He's German. He's from a little town outside of Munich, Germany. He was born and raised there but he and his friends decided to attend University in the United States. They specifically chose the south because Eren's older half brother lives in a southern state because he plays baseball for a southern team.
—He's an architecture major. He knew what he wanted to do from a very young age but didn't know what it actually was until high school where they began talking about University and future careers that he was 100% sure he wanted to be an architect. Every once in a while him and his family would go to Legoland Germany as a kid, especially since him and his family only lived a hour away by car. He always admired how they use the Legos to build different things. On top of that he was always the kid building things out of random items, especially a house out of cardboard for his older sister who would have toys.
—Eren is trilingual. His first language is German. The other two languages he knows is English and Italian. He would also spend some of his summers in Emilia-Romagna, Italy. His mother was Italian and her family were from there.
—Because of Zeke, his family grew up around Baseball, so he enjoys the sport. Because of his mother's Italian roots, he also grew up watching Formula 1 and rooting for team Ferrari. (However he was a fan of Lewis Hamilton and Mercedes, which offended his family that he was rooting for Mercedes. But they were finally happen when Lewis made the switch to Ferrari LOL)
—Eren is a big nerd. But if you've seen how hot his mother is and that he is practically a carbon copy of her, you wouldn't think he's a nerd. He's a big Star Wars and Lego nerd. He's one of those fans that can tell you everything about Star Wars, however, he isn't those one of those annoying fans that a lot of fandoms tend to have. He keeps his obsession of Star Wars at a minimum.
—He started wearing glasses his senior year of high school. He knew it would happen seeing as it happened to his dad, however, he didn't expect it to happen so soon. He wears those black square glasses, and he looks especially delectable when he wears it with his hair down hmmm. Without the glasses he looks like his mom but as soon as those bad boys are on, he kinda looks like his dad.
—Eren does smoke weed. His parents personally don't mind it but they aren't going to smoke it either (He has tried to convince his mom but his dad scolded him for trying to bribe her). Eren and his friends smoke weed, and Connie actually sells it with Onyankopon, who they all met when they began attending University.
—Eren is very clingy with the people that matter to him. Oh but he’s very clingy when it comes to his mother. Ever since he was a child, and it has gotten worse as he’s gotten older, much to Carla’s annoyance. She begs god to give eren a partner so that he can leave her alone.
—Speaking of god. Eren grew up in a Catholic town and went to Catholic school. His parents are Catholic however they aren’t too extreme like a good chunk of Catholics can be. The reason he’s sympathetic towards humanity and fights for their right is because of his parents and how they raised him. They raised him to love others and be kind to others. Even if he has a bad relationship with the Catholic Church he still respects it enough
—Because he’s from a family of doctors he grew up upper middle class. He grew up comfortable enough that his parents didn’t have to worry about bills. He acknowledges that privilege and uses it to give back to the less fortunate.
—Eren can cook because Grisha forced him to learn from a young age. Told him that he wasn’t going to force a woman to cook just because society might tell him that that is what a woman’s role is. Grisha told his boys that they were to serve women because women are the backbones of family and deserve to he worshipped.
—Lord we love Grisha in this household because the reason Eren is such a pathetic loser lover boy is because of what he picked up on from Grisha. That man treats Carla like the Queen she is. Eren learned that he was going to treat his future partner the same way.
—Eren is the youngest. (My personal head-canon is that Ymir is related to the Jaegers). Zeke is the oldest, then Ymir, then Eren. Ymir and Eren are two year apart.
—Eren, like his other siblings, are afraid of Grisha. If Eren did something that he wasn’t supposed to do, it was mostly his mother who would find out, however depending on how bad it was, is who would be the punisher. If it was something that wasn’t bad like a bad grade or not cleaning his room, it would be his mother. But if Eren got into a fight—and he frequently did—his father would be the one punishing him.
—Grisha has this blank stare, which makes it hard to read his expression. The blank stare is intimidating, and when he begins to raise his voice, Eren nearly pees his pants. But what pisses Eren off about that is after the scolding and punishment, his father goes back to being a sweet man, especially towards Carla. Eren doesn’t understand how and why but he doesn’t question it out loud
—Across campus Eren is considered very attractive and popular with the girls. However, he doesn’t realize the attention he has on him, especially when it comes to women. You could have 7 ladies ready to drop their panties for him and there he is talking about Anakin Skywalker and why thats his favorite character. He’s an airhead when it comes to women.
—It doesn’t help that he has a slight German accent when he speaks English. Listen those ladies will do anything for a night with the Eren Jaeger, especially for a chance to hear him speak German. But the loser is thinking of how much money he has to save in order to buy a new Star Wars Collectible.
—He’s pretty fit. He’s one of those people that eats a shit ton of food and barely gain any weight. However he goes to the gym three times a week and keeps himself in shape. He’s got some good biceps and can bench press 275.
Trust fund baby eren who is EXTREMELY fiscally irresponsible when it comes to you
He watches you like a hawk every time you go shopping together. Even if you so much as spare something a second glance he’s over your shoulder like, “Do you like that? Do you want me to buy it for you? Take a picture just in case it comes in more colors online.”
And speaking of online shopping he’ll just randomly log into the apps you shop on and empty your carts for you. He won’t say anything either and just lets you be surprised when there’s ten packages at your door that you didn’t order yourself.
Throws you the nastiest look ever if you pull out your wallet around him. Like why would he let you pay for your own iced latte he doesn’t care if there was a student discount and you just got paid and wanted to treat yourself. That’s his responsibility to treat you wtf
It does backfire on him sometimes tho. He can’t let you pay for anything yourself and that goes for things that don’t even involve him. He finds out you and your friends are planning a spring break trip and he’s so whiny and pissy about not being invited and having to be away from you for a week but still coughs up the $700 for your plane ticket. And you tell him he literally doesn’t have to and that you’ve saved up and can pay for it yourself but it’s like his body is working against him and he’s reaching for his wallet as if he physically can’t help himself (he can’t.)
pairing: eren jaeger x reader, established relationship, college au
masterlist
“Why are you standing at my door right now?”
“Um maybe because I wanted to see you?” He replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing ever.
Eren lets himself into your apartment, kicking his shoes off by the door. He at least has the decency to neatly push them up against the wall next to yours before he’s trekking the familiar path to your bedroom as if it’s his name on the lease. Try as you might, you can’t ever stop yourself from letting him in, even when you desperately need a few hours of peace and quiet to finish the mountain of assignments you have due by the end of the week.
“Eren, I seriously need to get some work done today,” you warn him.
He’s already in the middle of removing his sweatshirt, his reply becoming muffled by the fabric being pulled over his head.
“Trust me, I’ll be quiet. And then once you’re done we can go eat or something.”
You throw him a skeptical look, but take a seat at your desk anyways as he makes himself comfortable on your bed.
Eren stays true to his word for a whole half hour. He’s tucked politely against your pillows, airpods in and you gather that he’s probably watching a movie or something from the way he’s got his phone propped up horizontally against your teddy bear. You’re able to submit your first assignment with no issues. The room goes quiet as your focus increases with each passing minute.
It doesn’t take long before you’re interrupted. It’s such a tiny sound, a quiet huff of air from your boyfriend where he sits on your bed. He’s switched positions now, laying on his back with his phone held above his face.
You avert your attention back towards your laptop, easily slipping back into your work. The first giggle, you can ignore. You give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe he really couldn’t hold it in. But then the giggles become more frequent and eventually turn into full-bodied laughs. Nothing is that funny. Especially when you have fifteen more calculus problems to finish and two full lectures to catch up on.
“Alright. Get up,” you demand, already grabbing his hoodie from the hook on your door.
You’ve never seen a person’s smile drop so fast.
Eren’s dark eyebrows are furrowed as he returns his airpods to the case, quickly standing up to stop you from gathering the rest of his things.
“I told you I had work to do and you’re sitting there giggling like an idiot. Not the time,” you mutter, doing your best to herd him toward your front door.
“What? Ok- baby I didn’t realize I was even laughing,” he begs.
Despite his pleas, you’re shoving his belongings into his arms and shutting your bedroom door behind the two of you.
“Please? I promise I’ll stop, just let me stay.”
“Nope, it’s too late. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Those words all but break him. He’s fully whining now, but still lacing up his shoes, obedient as ever.
“I can’t even come back later when you’re done?” He frowns.
Eren groans when you shake your head, mumbling to himself as he sees himself out of your apartment.
You’re not even sat back at your desk yet before your phone dings with a text: a TikTok link from your boyfriend that you kicked out no more than thirty seconds ago.
attack on titan characters saying 'i love you' for the first time !! ୨ৎ
includes: eren jaeger, armin arlert, erwin smith, hange zoe, jean kirstein.
EREN JAEGER
He would be so nervous about saying it. Not finding the words, thinking the would make it awkward. His whole brain overheats thinking of all the possibilities, of all the answers you could give to him.
But then he finally finds the courage to just fucking say it.
“…Hey.”
His voice is so rough it sounds scraped raw.
You tilt your head just enough to see the side of his face in the dim streetlight leaking through the blinds. His eyes are open, staring at nothing.
“Yeah?”
Another long silence. Rain taps. His heartbeat hammers against your spine.
“I—” He stops. Swallows so hard you feel it in his throat against your hair. “Fuck. I’m bad at this.”
You don’t say anything. You just wait. You’ve learned with Eren that pushing makes him bolt, letting him come to you is the only way he ever says the big things.
His arm tightens. Almost painfully.
“I love you.”
The words drop like stones into still water. No buildup, no pretty speech. Just three blunt syllables punched out of him like they’ve been clawing at his ribs for months.
He immediately buries his face in your neck like he wants to hide from his own voice.
“Don’t—don’t say anything yet,” he mumbles against your skin, muffled and frantic. “Just… let me say it again or I’m gonna fucking choke on it.”
You feel the tremor in his shoulders. The way he’s gripping you like you’re the only solid thing in the room.
“I love you,” he repeats, quieter this time. Almost reverent. Like he’s tasting the words for the first time and they don’t burn the way he expected. “I love you so fucking much it’s stupid. I look at you and I can’t breathe right sometimes. And I hate it. But I don’t want it to stop either.”
A beat.
Then, smaller, almost scared:
“…You don’t have to say it back. I just needed you to know. Before I lose my nerve and never say it again.”
You turn in his arms slowly. He lets you, but his eyes stay locked on your collarbone like he’s terrified of what he’ll see if he meets your gaze.
You cup his jaw, thumb brushing the sharp line of it until he finally looks up.
His eyes are glassy. Terrified and soft in a way you’ve only seen a handful of times.
You lean in until your foreheads touch.
“I love you too, you idiot.”
His breath catches and then he’s kissing you like he’s drowning and you’re air. Messy. Desperate. Hands in your hair, on your waist, everywhere at once like he needs to map every inch of you right now to prove this is real.
When he finally pulls back just enough to breathe, his forehead stays pressed to yours.
“Say it again,” he whispers, voice wrecked. “Please.”
You smile against his mouth.
“I love you, Eren.”
He exhales like he’s been holding it for years.
“…Yeah,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “Yeah. That’s… that’s good.”
ARMIN ARLERT
You've been like this for over an hour: tangled together under the thick comforter, your head pillowed on his chest, one leg hooked over his, his heartbeat steady and familiar beneath your ear. Armin has one arm wrapped securely around your shoulders, fingers idly tracing slow, absent patterns along your upper arm—little loops and lines like he's mapping constellations only he can see. In his other hand is the worn paperback he's been reading aloud to you, voice soft and melodic, the way it gets when he's truly relaxed. It's an old fantasy novel you've both read a dozen times; the words are familiar enough that you don't have to focus too hard, just let his timbre wash over you like a lullaby.
He pauses mid-sentence sometimes to press a kiss to the top of your head, or to ask quietly if you're still awake, if the story's putting you to sleep. You always murmur that you're listening, even when your eyes are half-closed and contentment has turned your limbs heavy.
Tonight feels different, though. There's a subtle shift in him. He held your hand the whole walk back, thumb brushing over your knuckles in that thoughtful way of his, stealing glances like he was memorizing you all over again. He didn't talk much on the way up the stairs, just smiled softly when you teased him about being extra clingy tonight.
Now, as he reads, his voice catches on a line about two characters reuniting after years apart. He clears his throat lightly, turns the page, continues.
And then, so quietly you almost think you've imagined it:
"I love you."
The words slip out like a sigh, barely louder than the rain. They hang in the air between you.
You freeze for half a second, heart doing a delighted flip. You lift your head just enough to look up at him without fully moving away from his warmth.
"Is that part of the dialogue?" you ask, keeping your tone light, teasing, even as a smile tugs at your lips. "Because if the book just got that romantic out of nowhere, I need to borrow it next."
Armin's eyes widen fractionally. The book lowers slowly to rest against his chest. His cheeks flush a soft pink that travels up to the tips of his ears, visible even in the low light. He blinks rapidly, lashes fluttering like he's trying to process what just escaped him.
"Uh… no," he says, voice cracking just a little on the word. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing. "I was… telling you. That. To you."
His heart is suddenly louder under your palm, unsteady thumps that betray how calm he's trying to appear. His fingers stop their lazy tracing; instead, they curl gently into the fabric of your shirt, holding on like an anchor.
You push yourself up slowly, until you're propped on one elbow, faces inches apart. His blue eyes are wide, searching yours with that earnest vulnerability he rarely lets anyone see. The book lies forgotten between you, pages splayed open.
You reach up, brushing a strand of blonde hair off his forehead. It's soft, still slightly damp from the shower he took earlier.
"I know, silly," you whisper, voice thick with affection. "I love you too. So much. More than I know how to say sometimes."
His breath hitches. For a moment he just stares, like the words have short-circuited something inside him. Then his expression crumples into something unbearably soft: relief, wonder, joy all at once.
You lean in, intending to kiss the tip of his nose like you do when you're feeling especially playful.
But Armin is faster.
His hand slides to the back of your neck, gentle but sure, and he pulls you the rest of the way until your lips meet his. It's not rushed or desperate—it's deep, slow, achingly tender. Like he's pouring every unspoken feeling from the past months into this one kiss: every quiet date where he listened to you ramble for hours, every secret he shared in the dark, every time he caught himself smiling at nothing because your name crossed his mind.
You melt into it, giggling softly against his mouth when he angles his head to kiss you deeper, noses brushing, breaths mingling. One of his hands finds yours, fingers lacing together tightly; the other stays cradling your jaw like you're something precious.
"I've wanted to say it for a while," he admits, voice hushed, almost shy. "I just… wanted to be sure. Really sure. That it was real, and right, and that I could give you everything that comes with it." He opens his eyes, meeting yours. "I didn't want to say it until I knew I'd never want to take it back."
Your thumb brushes over his cheekbone.
"You don't have to be sure of everything, Armin. Just sure of us."
He exhales a shaky laugh, the sound soft and relieved.
"I am," he murmurs. "Of us. Of this. Of you."
ERWIN SMITH
After almost losing his life in a mission, he appears in your doorway. Still in his uniform, still dirty and disheveled.
You and him had have a big fight before his departure. With all the screaming, bad words and slamming doors you can imagine. You were tired of the push and pull you two had: being together, spending nights and days tangled for almost a year but no ring on your finger.
He doesn’t speak at first. Just stands there, swaying slightly, like the act of remaining upright is costing him everything he has left.
You don’t move. Don’t speak. The silence stretches until it’s unbearable.
Finally, his voice comes out barely above a whisper.
“I’m sorry.”
Two words. They land like stones in your chest.
You swallow. “You almost died.”
He flinches. Actually flinches. Like the truth of it is a blade he didn’t expect.
“I know.”
Another long beat. His throat works. He takes one step closer, then stops, like he’s afraid you’ll tell him to leave.
“I thought,” His voice breaks. He tries again. “I thought if I made it back, I’d have time. To fix it. To do it right. I was wrong.”
You stand up slowly. Your hands are shaking. You curl them into fists at your sides so he won’t see.
“You left,” you say. “After I told you I was done waiting. After I told you I couldn’t keep doing this half-life with you. You kissed me like it was goodbye, told me you’d be careful, and then you walked out anyway.”
His shoulders drop. Just a fraction. Enough to make him look smaller than you’ve ever seen him.
“I did.”
He doesn’t make excuses. Doesn’t try to explain the mission, the strategy, the greater good. For once, Erwin has nothing strategic to say.
He takes another step. Then another. Until he’s close enough that you can smell iron and smoke on him. Close enough to see the way his chest rises and falls too fast, like he’s fighting not to break apart in front of you.
“I almost didn’t make it,” he says, voice trembling now. “And the last thing I saw was your face. Not the Walls. Not the Scouts. Not even the kids I swore to protect. Just you. Angry and hurt. Because of me.”
A tear cuts a clean line through the grime on his cheek. He doesn’t wipe it away.
“I’ve never been more terrified in my life,” he whispers. “Not of dying. Of dying without ever telling you—”
He stops. Swallows hard. His hand lifts, hesitates, then cups your face with devastating gentleness. His palm is cold, trembling, calloused. Thumb brushes your cheek like you’re made of glass.
“I love you.”
The words come out broken. Desperate. Like they’ve been clawing at the inside of his ribs for years and he’s finally let them bleed out.
“I love you so much it’s ruined me. I’ve spent every day since we met trying to be worthy of you, and I keep failing. I keep choosing duty over you because I’m terrified that if I stop, everything falls apart. But none of it means anything if you’re not there. None of it.”
His forehead drops to yours. He’s shaking so badly now you can feel it in your bones.
“I’ll marry you tomorrow,” he rasps. “Tonight. Right now, if you’ll have me. I’ll resign. I’ll burn every report, every plan, every fucking dream I ever had if that’s what it takes for you to look at me without hate in your eyes again. Just, please. Forgive me. Let me stay. Let me be yours. I can’t do this without you anymore.”
You feel the first tear slip down your own cheek. You hate that he still has this power over you. Hate that even covered in blood and dirt, even half-dead, he can still unravel you with a few broken words.
Your hands come up. One fists in the torn fabric over his chest. The other slides to the back of his neck, fingers threading into sweat-damp hair.
“You idiot,” you whisper, voice cracking. “You big, beautiful idiot.”
He lets out a ragged sound and crushes you against him. Arm banding around your back so tight it hurts. Face buried in your hair. He’s trembling, clinging like you’re the only solid thing left in his world.
“I love you,” he repeats against your temple. Over and over. A litany. A prayer. “I love you. I love you. I’m sorry. I love you.”
HANGE ZOE
“And if we adjust the pressure here... yes, yes! And introduce the catalyst at exactly forty-seven degrees, then the reaction should stabilize long enough for—” They spin toward you so fast their ponytail whips across their face. “You. You absolute genius. Do you realize what this means?”
You’re leaning against the edge of the table, arms crossed, trying (and failing) to look unimpressed. “That we might not blow up the entire building this time?”
Hange laughs, dipping their head back, and suddenly they’re right in front of you, hands slamming down on either side of your hips, caging you against the workbench.
“Better,” they breathe, eyes huge and shining behind smudged lenses. “We might actually make it work. We might rewrite everything we thought we knew about titan spinal fluid volatility. Because of you. Because of that stupid, brilliant, beautiful little idea you threw at me like it was nothing.”
They’re vibrating. Literally vibrating. You can feel the tremor in their arms where they’re braced around you.
“Hange—”
“No, no, listen.” They lean in closer, forehead almost touching yours, voice dropping to something feverish and reverent. “I’ve spent years chasing this. Years. And you—you just waltzed in here with your sharp little mind and your stupid pretty face and handed me the missing piece like it was spare change. Do you have any idea how insane that is? How insane you are?”
You open your mouth to deflect with something sarcastic but Hange doesn’t give you the chance.
They surge forward.
One second you’re standing; the next you’re airborne as Hange scoops you up like you weigh nothing, strong arms banding around your waist, lifting you clean off the floor. You yelp, hands instinctively grabbing their shoulders for balance.
They’re laughing again, spinning you once, twice, lab coat flaring out behind them like wings.
“I love you,” they blurt, the words bursting out like they’ve been waiting behind their teeth for years.
Your heart stutters.
They don’t stop.
“I love you I love you I love you—” Each one punctuated by a kiss: one smashed against your cheek, another to the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your temple, the tip of your nose.
They’re peppering your face with them, still holding you suspended like they’re afraid gravity might steal you away if they set you down.
“I love you so much it’s stupid,” they gasp between kisses, voice cracking with laughter and something rawer. “I love your brain and your terrible handwriting and the way you pretend you’re not as obsessed with this as I am. I love how you look at me like I’m not completely deranged even when I am. I love you I love you—”
You’re laughing now too, clinging to their neck as they finally slow the spin and lower you just enough that your toes brush the floor again. But they don’t let go. Their arms stay locked around you, face buried against the side of your neck, still murmuring the words into your skin like a mantra.
“I love you,” they whisper one more time, quieter now, almost shy. “I just… didn’t want to scare you off with how much.”
You pull back just enough to cup their face in both hands. Their cheeks are flushed, glasses askew, eyes glassy with excitement.
“You think anything about you could scare me off at this point?” you ask, thumb brushing their cheek bones.
Hange’s grin wobbles.
“…Maybe not,” they admit. Then, softer: “Say it back? Please? Before I combust.”
You lean in, kiss them slow and deep.
“I love you too, you beautiful lunatic.”
Hange makes a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh, crushing you against their chest again, rocking you both side to side like they can’t contain it.
“Excellent,” they mumble into your hair. “Now help me write this down before I forget how your idea works and we have to start over.”
You snort. “Romantic.”
JEAN KIRSTEIN (+18)
You’re both wrecked.
Your legs are still hooked loosely around his hips, thighs quivering from how many times he’s already made you come tonight. Your nails have left angry red crescents down his back; he hasn’t complained once, instead he groaned louder every time you dug in deeper. His cock is still buried inside you, thick and pulsing, and every tiny shift of his hips makes you whimper because you’re so full, so sensitive, so completely claimed.
Jean’s eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, locked on your face like he’s afraid to blink and miss a single second of this. You reach up, shaky fingers threading through his damp hair, tugging just enough to make him hiss.
“Jean,” you breathe, voice cracked and wrecked. “Inside, please. Come inside me.”
The words hit him like a punch.
His rhythm stutters. His breath catches hard in his throat. For a second he just stares down at you, expression fracturing into something raw and unguarded. Then his whole body shudders, a full-body tremor that starts at his shoulders and rolls down to where you’re joined.
“Fuck, baby...” His voice is gravel, barely there.
He drops his weight onto his elbows, caging you in, forehead pressing hot and slick against yours. The new angle drives him impossibly deeper; you feel the blunt head of him nudge against that spot that makes your vision white out. You arch, gasping, walls fluttering helplessly around him.
He drags out letting you feel every thick inch, every ridge, every vein as he pulls almost all the way out before sinking back in just as torturously slow. Again. And again. Like he’s trying to carve himself into you permanently.
You’re shaking under him, thighs trembling, breath hitching on little broken moans. Your hands scrabble at his shoulders, his neck, anywhere you can reach.
“Jean, please, please. Need you—”
He makes a low, guttural sound and buries his face in the crook of your neck. His hips snap forward once, twice, losing the careful control he’d been clinging to. Then he’s grinding deep, hips rolling in tight, filthy circles, pressing so hard you swear you can feel him in your stomach.
You clench down hard and that’s it.
He comes with a choked, wrecked sound, hips jerking uncontrollably as he spills inside you. Hot. Thick. Endless. You feel every pulse, every twitch, the way he throbs and fills you until it’s leaking out around him despite how tightly he’s pressed against you.
At the exact same moment your own orgasm crashes through you, you hear it.
Soft. Almost broken. Whispered right against the shell of your ear like a secret he can’t keep anymore.
“I love you so much.”
The words are so quiet they almost drown in the sound of your shared breathing, but they sear straight through you anyway. Your whole body locks up around him.
Jean freezes.
For a heartbeat he doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, like he’s terrified he just ruined everything by saying it out loud while he’s still coming inside you. Then he exhales shakily, lips brushing the sensitive skin below your ear.
“Didn’t... didn’t mean to say it like that,” he mumbles. “Just… fuck. Couldn’t hold it in anymore.”
You turn your head, nose brushing his cheek, lips finding the corner of his mouth.
“Say it again,” you whisper.
He lets out a soft, disbelieving laugh that turns into a groan when you clench around him on purpose.
“I love you,” he repeats, clearer this time. “I love you so fucking much it hurts sometimes.”
You cup his face with both hands, thumbs brushing over the faint stubble along his jaw.
“I love you too,” you tell him. “Been waiting for you to say it.”
He exhales like he’s been punched in the chest, in the best way. Then he kisses you: slow, deep, filthy with the taste of sweat and relief and everything he’s been holding back. When he pulls away just enough to breathe, his forehead stays pressed to yours.
“Don’t move yet,” he murmurs, hips still flush against yours, still buried deep. “Wanna stay like this. Wanna feel you full of me a little longer.”
You smile against his mouth, legs tightening around him.
— warnings: maybe cursing, talks about mental health
— a/n: is this all im good for? masterlist
Eren’s mental health has been all over the place for years but he gets to a point when he’s older that he realizes he really needs to sort it out
Enjoys journaling but really only remembers his journal when things are bad so a lot of his entries are lowkey illegible bc his brain is moving faster than he can write
And being in a relationship doesn’t automatically fix him ofc, so he does work really hard to improve himself while also considering you in all of it
He doesn’t like admitting it but he’s a crier :/
Probably an angry crier but uses all of his willpower not to do it in front of you especially if you’ve been fighting bc he knows how it looks and he doesn’t want you to think he’s victimizing himself
But if he gets frustrated or can’t articulate himself correctly then the tears are coming
Trust fund baby really badly (bc Grisha thinks money can buy a relationship with his son)
Never tries to act like he’s broke tho. He won’t ever brag about the fact that his parents help him out financially but he’s always willing to spot his friends for stuff when he can
And he’s lowkey irresponsible about his money when it comes to you specifically like if you mention to him that you’re craving something he’ll text you 30 minutes later something super ominous like “check your doorstep” and he’s had it delivered to you
Even though you scold him about it bc the delivery fees are ridiculous, if it makes you happy then he really couldn’t care less
Very very touchy in a relationship
Will have his head in the crook of your neck while you’re scrolling on your phone
Or clings to you while you’re doing chores
Eren is a pretty good boyfriend but he’s still very much a man sigh and he has so many typical annoying guy habits
He’s horrible about man-spreading, he’s a terrible grocery shopper, and he eats so much
And Eren is one of those guys that always has his hands in his pants :/ not in a weird way but bc his hands are always cold
Lowkey probably has his hands down YOUR pants or under your shirt from time to time. Especially when he’s sleeping, but he’s not even trying to touch on you he just likes the warmth and the closeness. Weirdo
I feel like he can get overwhelmed very easily especially if he’s trying to focus
Texts you randomly in the middle of the day “I’m about to explode this library with my mind” and it’s just bc the person sitting in front of him keeps clicking their pen and it’s driving him crazy
But at the same time he’s always doing stuff like that to you when YOU’RE trying to focus
He’s always drinking out of your water bottle even though he literally has his own!!!! And then gets annoyed when you ask him to refill it as if it’s not his fault it’s empty in the first place :|
this is such an unserious question but if you and your f/o were selected in like a fighting or sports game as a duo, what would be your selection action?
theartofmadeline
baratheonpilled
turnnoffyourmind
pixelskylines
