pairing - jean kirstein x reader
warnings - (slight) nsfw if you squint, a lot of angst, cheating, sub/insecure! reader, emotional manipulation
a/n - my first fic my god .. also i thought about this simply because of 2 things - jean kirstein and listening to billie eilish’s i love you while drowning in a vat of my own tears because of this week’s episode </3 i recommend listening to the song and reading the lyrics before starting to get in the mood .. just because i am a sadist. enjoy ..
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You fought hard to keep your tears at bay as you painfully gulped that burning knot in your throat. Your vision of Jean across the road, enveloping another girl in his arms, turned blurry as tears welled up in your eyes.
Tell me I’ve been lied to.
What you thought was an ordinary night of buying groceries quickly turned grim. There you were, dead in your tracks, clutching onto your bags of fruit. Your boyfriend of five years, Jean, was hugging another girl whom you had never seen before. Beautiful blonde hair, petite stature with her arms snaked around his waist like she was meant to be there.
You began to question yourself if he had any other family you didn’t know of, besides his mother. He was an only child. He had never met his father, nor did he talk to any other relatives - if he had any.
All questions dissipated from your head as Jean dipped his head down to kiss the girl.
Your mind went blank. A nauseating feeling crept up from within you and the taste of bile threatened to coat your tongue. Your legs began moving by themselves and you hastily turned the corner, hoping you weren’t noticed by anyone.
As the cold wind harshly pricked against your skin, you allowed the tears that you were desperately trying to hold back run down your cheeks.
“I’m home!” Jean’s voice boomed through the apartment. The sudden loudness made you flinch and the fruit knife you were holding cut through the skin of your forefinger.
You cursed in shock and dropped the knife on the cutting board. You heard hurried footsteps rush towards the kitchen. Jean burst through the door and called out to you, “What happened? Are you okay?”
You turned to the sink and quickly washed the blood off your finger, nodding curtly. You couldn’t even bring yourself to say anything because you were too afraid of your voice cracking.
You didn’t hear Jean slowly shuffle behind you. The pressure against your back made you jump. You froze as Jean wrapped his arms around your waist, the slight stubble on his chin lightly grazing your ear, “I’ve missed you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you at work.”
You fought the urge to let the tears come once again. Lies. Everything was a lie.
You looked down at your hand clutching the tap, not even noticing your knuckles turning white. Everything he once did that made your knees weak, now made every joint in your body tense.
Never been the type to let someone see right through.
Jean turned you around, your back resting against the counter. His eyes bore into you as he brought your injured finger up to his lips, “Let me kiss it for you.”
This was too easy for him. Did he not have a single ounce of guilt in him?
“Don’t touch me!” you shouted, clutching your hand to your chest as if the man standing in front of you was a disease-ridden being.
Jean had to step back from you. What had gotten into his girlfriend, who was always so warm and full of love, who would always run to the door and give him a kiss every time he came back from work?
You felt his eyes scrutinize you. Your jaw tightened and so did your grip on your hand. It didn’t take long before your open wound began to bleed again.
Jean reached out to you once again but stopped himself when he noticed you flinch. His arms fell beside him dejectedly, “What’s wrong?”
Maybe won’t you take it back?
“You’re a liar.” you whispered softly, looking down on the floor. “You’re a liar, and I hate you.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jean hissed. He grabbed your arms tightly.
You looked up into his burning gaze, your heart breaking for the hundredth time that day. “I saw you kiss someone else.”
It took everything in you to try to forget whatever you saw earlier on. You tried to convince yourself it was just a hallucination.
But as Jean’s grip on you slowly loosened, you knew that whatever you saw that afternoon was nothing but the bitter reality.
“Tell me I’m wrong, Jean.” your voice trembled. Your eyes searched him, hoping to find even a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. But there was no mistaking that kiss. You were just trying to find an excuse for him – and yourself.
When you didn’t hear an answer, the pounding ache in your heart turned into a seething rage. You grabbed his dress shirt in tightly wound fists, “Tell me I’m wrong, please! And that you aren’t out there fucking someone else!”
Say you were trying to make me laugh
His gaze dropped and all he could do was listen to your endless blubbering.
The sound of your sobs echoed through the apartment. A pang of guilt engulfed Jean, seeing you so broken because of him. Tears stung his eyes as you continued to mindlessly shake him.
Jean hadn’t been a good partner, he knew that. He let casual flirting at the office between him and his coworker get the best of him. He didn’t think about how you were at home cooking for him, while he had someone else bent over in front of him.
Jean couldn’t defend himself.
He knew the moment he allowed himself to get carried away was the moment he lost you.
And nothing has to change today
His hands slid from your forearms to your wrists, steadying you when he noticed your knees giving out. You hiccuped as your sobs turned into sniffles. With a shaky breath, Jean croaked, “I’m a terrible person. But, please, don’t leave me. You mean so much to me.”
You shook your head repeatedly and kept your gaze on the floor, watching your tears fall. All you could do was cry - cry the pain out.
It felt like you had your heart twisted and gouged out of your chest. It all happened too fast. Everything you thought was a constant in your life was mercilessly taken away from the person you loved most.
But you felt it coming. No, don’t say it, you thought to yourself. The last thing you wanted to hear was-
“I love you.” Jean said in a single breath. He repeated the same words over and over again. You wondered if they meant anything anymore. Your hands balled into fists again.
You didn’t mean to say “I love you”
He gave you the life you dreamt of and in a second, snatched it all away. You couldn’t forgive him. You couldn’t forgive the fact that no matter how hurt you were, you would still love him back.
But most of all, you couldn’t forgive yourself for what you did next.
I love you, and I don’t want to.
You threw your arms around Jean’s shoulders in a rush.
Before he could even register what you were doing, your lips found Jean’s. You first felt the familiar tingle you always got whenever you kiss Jean, followed by a sinking defeat when you realised that you had yet again succumbed to him.
Everything was blurry. Nothing made sense. If you could, you wanted to pack everything and go.
But it all happened too suddenly. How was one supposed to let go of five years worth of love and memories in an instant?
Jean’s arms held you tightly and he kissed you even deeper. His hands snaked themselves under your shirt and roamed the small of your back. You shuddered, goosebumps rising at every corner Jean touched.
The kiss was hungry, as if the two of you had something to prove. There was no more going back.
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