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JEAN KIRSCHTEIN. ꒱
face buried in pussy. ⋆ pumping you with his fingers. ⋆ kissing all over you. ⋆ cuffed ‘n pounding. ⋆ 69ing. ⋆ fondling your boobies through lingerie. ⋆ seashell. ⋆ smack smack smack.
ONYANKOPON. ꒱
sucking him off in the bathtub. ⋆ passionately eating you out ⋆ backshots. ⋆ hitting it from the back. ⋆ missionary. ⋆ cowgirl. ⋆ ten inches deep. ⋆ munching your sloppy folds.
LEVI ACKERMAN. ꒱
missionary. ⋆ choking in a manbeater. ⋆ humping his foot. ⋆ psycho dick sucker. ⋆ tied. ⋆ piston that pussy. ⋆ backshots. ⋆ in the kitchen. ⋆ fingering you. ⋆ bent over. ⋆ rough sex.
ERWIN SMITH. ꒱
inspection. ⋆ experienced older man. ⋆ pretty ass perched atop his knee. ⋆ sweet make out sesh. ⋆ mutual masturbation. ⋆ helping him jerk off. ⋆ missionary.
you prank the aot boys into thinking you find their friends on tinder!
ch: connie, onyankopon, eren, jean, and reiner
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
connie
you got your phone in your lap while secretly recording connie as he lays next to you on your couch under your fluffy throw blanket that you usually have draped around for decoration.
he’s scrolling through his phone oblivious to the prank you’re about to do on him after doomscrolling on tiktok for hours.
“babe… why is your friend on tinder?”
connie doesn’t even look up at first. his tattooed fingers continues scrolling on his insta feed as if you didn’t just say you were on tinder.
“…what friend?”
“eren”
silence…
his whole demeanor shifts, like instantly. connie presses his tongue against his cheek as he looks up at you in silence.
“lemme see.”
you tilt the phone away just a little in a teasing way not knowing that was the wrong move as he snatches your wrist in a firm but not rough manner.
“nah. show me.”
you start laughing a little while trying to keep it together. “ oh my goddd connie, it’s just—”
“why you even on tinder?” he cuts in while pulling you towards him and staring you down like he’s either about to fuck you up or fuck eren up even if he wasn’t talking to you.
“that’s not the point—”
“whats the point?” he scoffs while already standing up and letting your wrist go. “you think that shits funny? you got me lookin’ stupid.”
he starts to pace with a hand over his mouth, then looks back at you.
“delete that shit. right now.”
you stare at him in silence for a second before laughing in his face. “connie can you calm down? i don’t even have tinder!”
he reaches for your phone again to check for himself only to see your screen now recording you looking back up at him laughing.
“…you lucky,” he mutters while throwing your phone on your lap as his hand grips the back of your neck to pull you into a quick kiss.
“but don’t ever play like that again.”
onyankopon
“i found your friend on tinder.”
he doesn’t react immediately but just looks at you with a raised eyebrow from across the kitchen island as he stops eating the strawberries you cut up for him before you started recording.
then he looks at your phone.
then back at you.
“…why do you have tinder?”
he was too calm for your liking.
you smile. “just saw—”
he holds his hand out.
“phone.”
you hesitate as you still try your best to record his reaction. “im using it?”
he raises his eyebrow again before tapping his fingers against his still held out palm, waiting.
“…phone.”
you start giggling at your boyfriend’s serious reaction knowing his mind is probably racing behind that calm demeanor. “it’s a prank—”
“mhm. i’m not asking ma.”
“ony—”
“you think i care about a joke?”
ony walks around the kitchen island and you try to run away from your boyfriend but he grabs you by your arm before you can escape as he pulls you into his chest.
caging you with one muscular arm, he grabs your face with the other. “i know you not tryna play them type of jokes with me mama” he says with a slight grin.
you look up at him with puckered lips as his fingers squeeze your cheeks tightly. “you didn’t even react—”
“i did react,” he says simply. “just not the way you wanted.”
then he leans closer to give you a peck on your puckered lips.
“but don’t be download dating apps as a joke. that’s unnecessary.” he says as he stares you down.
“…and if my friend is on tinder, that’s his business.”
then he kisses you slightly again.
“…but you? not yours.”
eren
he’s laid out on your bed with his long hair messy and sprawled out on your silk pink pillows. his rings glint under the fairy lights surrounding your bed.
you’re laying on his chest pretending to record yourself but making sure to catch his face in the background.
“eren… i just found your friend on tinder.”
“…okay.”
no reaction. not even a blink as he continues to watch show he decided to put on.
you blink as your lashes flutter in confusion. “…okay??”
he shifts under you, still watching tv. “what you want me to do about it?”
you try not to cuss him out but give him a second chance. “i mean… i was on tinder and—”
that’s when his focus shifts to you as he raises a hand to grab your phone with no hesitation only to see himself staring back at him.
silence.
you lift yourself up from eren’s chest and stare at him in disappointment.
“yeah…took you a while to catch on. that’s actually crazy ren.”
he locks your phone and exhales through his nose while leaning back again like he doesn’t care.
“yeah. don’t do that.”
you glare at him and slap him on his chest as you get off the bed. “ugh, you’re such a boy eren,”
“maybe i should download tinder since you can’t seem to notice it right in your face!” you yell as you walk out the room and straight to the kitchen to get a needed shot of some type of liquor after that.
jean
you’re sitting on jeans bed as he plays whatever game gets him upset after every match. you’re phone is recording from your lap as you call his name.
“jeanie, i found armin on tinder—”
his fingers stop moving on his controller as he turns to look at you with a look that’s mixed with confusion and disbelief. “you were on tinder??”
he’s quick to stand and set down his controller on his desk as he starts pacing. already stressed.
“are you serious right now? like actually serious? you downloaded tinder? for what??”
“jeanie i was just trying to tell you i seen ar—”
“no, no, no– don’t ‘jeanie’ me!” he yells at you like you just committed a crime. “why would you even have it??”
you try to hold back your laugh from the distraught look on his face but a giggle manages to escape and now he looks offended.
“this isn’t funny!”
“it is–”
“it’s not!” he groans while running his hands through his hair. “so what, you just browsing now??”
“i don’t even look like someone you find off tinder?!” he adds, now fully spiraling at this point.
“it’s a joke!” you finally manage to get in between his continuous rant about tinder men.
he freezes mid pacing while staring you down.
“…you’re lying.”
you show him your recording phone with a giggle as you stand up to stand in front of him and grab his arm.
then folds his arms while turning away dramatically.
“wow.”
“jean–”
“wow. so you just like stressing me out for fun now.”
he sits back down at his desk while pouting hard and grabbing his controller.
“…i’m not talking to you for the rest of the day.”
not even a full two minutes later he glances at you.
“…you really don’t have it?”
reiner
you’re making dinner for you reiner when a joke you seen on tiktok pops into your head. you know reiner isn’t on social media as much so he wouldn’t get the reference.
what’s the harm in seeing his reaction anyways? as you stir the chicken and dumplings in the pot, you casually bring it up. “hun, the other day i seen annie on tinder.”
he frowns immediately as he stops setting the table.
“…what’s tinder?”
you pause as you slightly shrug. “…a dating app.”
now he looks even more confused.
“…so you were on a dating app?”
you shrug again to keep yourself from breaking character as you feel his eyes burning into the side of your head. “not really but i seen annie and i just thought it was funny.”
“what do you mean ‘not really’? why would you even download a dating app?” he asks with genuine concern as he moves closer. “are you unhappy?”
“no–”
“do you want to meet other people?” he continues rambling in the most sincere way possible. “because we can talk about that, i just–”
“reiner it’s a joke, hun!”
he stops mid sentence and stares at you.
“…oh.”
he nods slowly as he closes the distance between you two, making you drop your spoon on the counter to give your grizzly husband a hug.
“…okay.”
“still delete it.”
“i don’t have it!”
“good. keep it that way.”
he bends down to engulf your lips as he kisses you while squeezing a little too tight.
“…i don’t like the idea of you being on something like that.” he mumbles against your lips, not really pulling away.
you smile against your connected lips and give him another kiss as you rub his shoulders.
boyfriend!jean kirstein purposely annoying you with his stubble ˚.✦
“Jean, personal space,” you try, already knowing that it’s pointless. After telling your boyfriend that his beard couldn’t be considered one, he decided to become an annoying little shit, rubbing his stubble against your face every time he could.
“But I’m not bothering you, am I? There’s nothing in my soft and bare face that can be uncomfortable,” he says, as he presses his cheeks against yours, the little hairs not tickling but rasping against your cheek.
You sigh, trying to tilt your head away, but Jean just follows the movement like it’s a game he’s already winning. His arms are looped around your waist, holding you close on the couch and there’s that smug little smirk on his lips you can feel more than see.
“Jean,” you warn again. “It’s like sandpaper. You’re gonna leave my face red.”
He pulls back just enough to look at you, one eyebrow raised, all fake innocence. “Babe, I shaved this morning, what are you talking about? This is basically baby skin.” To prove his point he drags his jaw slowly along your neck, the short, prickly hairs scraping in a way that makes you squirm and slap at his shoulder.
“Ow, ow, stop! You’re such a little shit!”
Jean chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin. “A little shit with a smooth face, right?” He nuzzles in again, this time aiming for the sensitive spot just under your ear, rubbing deliberately until you’re giggling and trying to push him off at the same time.
You manage to get a hand between you and pinch his cheek. “It’s not even a beard, it’s… angry peach fuzz that hates me.”
He gasps dramatically. “That’s it. Now I’m never shaving again.” But even as he says it, he’s already leaning back in, pressing his stubbly cheek to yours with extra pressure, grinning like an idiot. “Gotta make sure my ‘bare’ face leaves a lasting impression.”
You groan, but you’re smiling too, because even when he’s being the most annoying boyfriend on the planet, you kind of love how stupidly proud he is of his dumb little victory.
soft dom!jean who always makes sure that you cum at least 3 times.
soft dom!jean who thinks seeing you whiny and desperate for him is the sexiest shit ever, huge ass grin on his face when you’re begging for him to stop teasing and just fuck you already. he but tease you just a liiiittle bit more before giving you what you need,
“this wet from just a little teasing? you’re so needy for me, baby.”
“mm yeah? need me to stuff this pretty pussy?”
“gods, you’re so cute when you beg, angel….okay, baby, i’ll give you what you need now.”
soft dom!jean who is a service switch deep in his heart, doing whatever you want him to do, whenever you ask. he just wants to make you feel good.
soft dom!jean who fucks you nice and slow at least once after being rough with you, making sure to kiss any marks he left on you and tell you how perfect you are for him.
soft dom!jean with a size/strength kink + dumbification + breeding kink combo. always fighting the urge to pin you down, fuck you stupid, and fill you up with multiple loads of cum until he’s at least 98% sure it’ll be dripping out of your cunt and into your panties until tomorrow. the man's huge (and so is his cock), why wouldn’t he use that to his advantage? who knows, maybe tomorrow he’ll pick you up and bounce you on his cock mid air just cause he can.
soft dom!jean who is addicted to the way you gasp when he wraps his hand around your throat, carefully putting pressure on your arteries with the pads of his fingers.
soft dom!jean who is obsessed with cuddle fucking after a particularly draining day. he’ll have you take him while he spoons you from behind. one hand holding your thigh securely, lifting it just enough so he can hit all your spots while he fucks you nice and slow.
soft dom!jean who groans, moans, grunts and even lets out the occasional whimper.
soft dom!jean who you accidentally called daddy once, and he’s been on a mission to get you to call him it again ever since. he’ll casually slip the name into his dirty talk so it's in your head,
“mm yeah baby? just let daddy take care of you, okay?”
“such a good girl, so gorgeous when you're takin' all of daddy.”
soft dom!jean who devours your pussy like he owns it (he does). he gives head like he hasn’t ate or drank anything in days, a combination of his spit and your slick always running down his chin — sometimes trickling all the way down his neck to his chest. he'd live between your thighs for forever if he could.
soft dom!jean who’s willing to try anything and everything especially, when you’re the one who suggests it. bondage, s&m, wax play, temperature play, pet play, role play, etc. as long as you ask, he’s down.
soft dom!jean who just has to be near you at all times.
soft dom!jean who's always holding your face and hair when his cock is in your mouth. he's usually got one hand cupping your jaw or cheek while his thumb strokes your skin, wiping any tears that fall when you gag on him. the other rests somewhere on your head, either running his fingers through your hair or cradling the back of your head to guide you.
soft dom!jean who knows he can be jealous and possessive but believes he’s being way more subtle than he really is. this man doesn’t have a nonchalant bone in his body (he punched eren after he joked about jean sitting in a cuck chair).
soft dom!jean who will never get over the way you sound. he's addicted to everything from your soft sighs to your screams.
soft dom!jean who never punishes you when you’re bratty, just pulls you into his lap, strokes your hair, and asks, “what do you need, baby? c’mon and tell me,” while his hands are already sliding down your back to your hips.
soft dom!jean who did punish you once by refusing to cum inside of you, but it ended up being worse for him than it was for you. fucking you over and over, pulling out right before finishing to cum all over your stomach, ass, thighs, tits, face, on the outside of your pussy. anywhere but inside your sweet cunt. it fucking sucked.
soft dom!jean who will never stop putting his fingers in your mouth when the two of you are alone. it doesn't even have to necessarily be sexual, he's just obsessed with how you automatically open your mouth for his thumb or his index and middle fingers like second nature.
soft dom!jean who can’t help but stare at how his dick disappears into your pussy. his thumb rubbing your puffy clit while he slows down just so he can see it better. getting a clear, pornographic view of him stuffing you full with his cock.
soft dom!jean who absolutely worships you in and out of sex.
soft dom!jean who is the king of the possessive praise + degradation combo. he’ll even make you keep eye contact as he talks to you,
“such a good little slut for me.”
“you’re mine, my pretty cum dump who always takes me so beautifully.”
“i love how you let me do whatever i want to you, so obedient and all mine. just my perfect little doll for me to use whenever i want.”
“so cute when you’re fucked stupid. makes me want to keep my sweet girl dumb and needy for me all the time. bet you would love that, wouldn’t you angel?”
soft dom!jean who then makes you repeat what he says just to see you get embarrassed. he’ll threaten to stop if you don’t say it back, even though he already knows your words will likely just come out as nothing but incoherent babbling (which in his opinion is even better).
soft dom!jean who is extremely attentive to you and your needs, always putting you first in any situation, making sure you are not only safe physically but that you also feel safe.
soft dom!jean who is the GOD of aftercare. water? he brings you some immediately, every time. hungry? he’s already on doordash. can’t move? he’ll clean you up himself and help you get comfortable in bed, carrying you if you aren’t already there. he’ll kiss and cuddle(fuck) you till you’re falling asleep in his arms.
soft dom!jean who you are just as in love and obsessed with as he is you.
extremely self indulgent. i love jean sm. he’s gorgeous and such a sweetheart. #needthat man so fucking bad y’all omfg
synopsis: a kid calls Jean your "husband" and that's all he can think of for the rest of the night.
pairing: jean kirschtein x fem! reader
word count: 3.6k
c.w: modern au!, trost is a modern city, fem! reader, making out outside, smut, shower s-x, p in v, lots of sweet talk, a little bit of dirty talk, disgusting fluff mixed with some smut.
Your heart was going was to burst out of your chest.
You’re not sure how to put it into words, the way he crouched down when you told him that your heels were hurting your feet, his big and warm hands working their way around your ankles to massage them. Or the way he looks up when you put your hand on top of his head, heat crawling up your neck when your eyes meet his.
Jean Kirtstein, the man who asked you to be his girlfriend a year and a half ago, was the text-book definition of the perfect man. An attentive lover, someone who pays attention to what you do or say — husband material. You would be lying if you said you didn’t think of marrying him six months into your relationship, but you knew it would be too soon to bring it up and you would hate to freak out the man.
Even then, what would you say? You treat me better than half of the men I have been with, and so now I need to marry you.
Yeah, that would sound absolutely insane.
Tonight was no different, you could feel the love pouring out of him with every move he made. The arm wrapped around your shoulders, the hand squeezing your arm to make sure that you were warm. Trost was known to be a rather cold city, especially at night, but it never stopped you from having your date nights.
“What are we watching next?” Jean leans down to stare at your phone with you. You were scrolling through the long movie list you had made together, reading carefully through the movie titles.
“We can do… Beautiful Boy? We haven’t watched it yet, surprisingly.” You look up at your boyfriend and he nods.
“Okay, Beautiful Boy.”
“Oh, I’m gonna ugly-cry though…”
Jean lets out a laugh before pressing his lips to the side of your head, pulling you closer to him. “Not the first time I’ve seen you cry.”
You roll your eyes before shoving your phone back in the pocket of your long coat. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“Oh you do?” Jean smirks, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I would’ve never guessed.”
But before you could come up with your own smart retort, a rather loud bang interrupts your moment. It pulls you back to reality for a moment, and you find yourself holding onto your boyfriend’s arm.
“What was that?” You whisper, too nervous to step closer to the sound.
Jean immediately goes into protective mode, gently pushes you to hide behind him.
“Who is there?!” He yells out, all protective and serious as his eyes scan for potential danger. You would’ve run away, had it not been the alleyway that leads directly towards your apartment building.
Another soft, wet sound comes from the alleyway, but this time Jean squints as he takes a closer look at what was happening.
Orange, white, a little bit of black….white, and then orange again. Fur. There is fur everywhere, and multiple pairs of bright eyes stare directly into yours and Jean’s souls.
Cats were gathered around the dumpster, only distracted for a moment by your presence before diving back into their food. You step from around Jean and towards the animals, your voice careful and concerned.
“I hope they’re not eating something spoiled.”
And as if they could understand what you were saying, their gaze immediately shifts towards something in the sky.
Or more like someone.
“Miss! Watch out!” A child’s voice can be heard from above, and you look up at the third floor window.
Two kids — a boy and a girl, had their heads sticking out of the window. The light was very bright from where they were looking, and you assumed that they were probably in the kitchen.
“Oh,” you place a hand on your chest as you realize what was happening, and you turn to Jean with what he can only describe as the biggest smile on your face. “Look, I think they’re feeding them.”
Jean approaches you with a warm smile, reaching his hand towards your face where he gently holds your jaw before leaning down to kiss your forehead. His carefulness makes butterflies dance in your stomach, and you move closer to him as the two of you watch the cats eat.
“Mommy says we can’t go out and feed them at night.” It’s the boy who speaks up this time, his words laced with disappointment. Jean is quick to respond to him.
“Your mommy is right, it’s dangerous at night.”
“But you’re outside at night.” The pout is so evident in his voice that it makes you chuckle.
His sister hisses at him, quickly correcting him. “They’re grown ups, dummy! Grown ups can walk outside at night!”
“Then I wanna be a grown up some day!” The boy exclaims loudly, before tossing another piece of meat down to the cats.
It seems that this was a regular occurrence, as the cats look fairly healthy and are full after a couple of bites. The kids bid them goodbye very loudly, and then you hear a loud shush coming from inside their apartment.
“It’s way past your bedtime!”
“But mommy! It’s the weekend!”
“And I let you feed the cats, now it’s time to sleep.”
“I wanna say byebye to the nice lady and her husband!”
That elicits a chuckle from you and a surprised sound from Jean who looks down at you. “Am I just an accessory now?”
You wrap your arms around his middle. “A nice accessory.”
“Byebye!” Both kids wave at you, and you and Jean wave back as you watch them retreat inside.
“Goodnight!” You exclaim loud enough for both of them to hear, and their giggles echo through the night before the window closes and the rest of the conversation is muffled.
You stand there, your arms still wrapped around Jean before you feel his eyes on you, warm and adoring.
“What?” You can feel your cheeks warming up under his gaze, his firm body feeling extra nice against yours.
“Husband, huh?” He tucks a hair strand behind your ear, taking in your flustered look. “I like that. Do you?”
The question comes out soft, careful — this was Jean’s way of testing the waters, the relationship in itself. He wanted to make sure that you two were on the same page, that the past year and a half of you two being together has been just as amazing to you, as it has been fulfilling to him. He cradles your face with his hand, his thumb brushing against your warm cheek as you gaze at him lovingly.
“I love it.”
Your words hang in the air for a few moments, surrounded by the silence of the night and your mixed breaths. Your chest feels tight, eyes brimming with tears because this was so incredibly overwhelming yet steadying. Because this was Jean, this wasn’t the man who had stood you up or the one who made you pay despite being the one to invite you on a date, or the one who expected sex after one date.
This was Jean, and not your ex-boyfriend who had told you that he wasn’t ready for commitment after being in a relationship for a year, nor was he the man who ghosted you after three dates.
You tilt your head, melting against his touch and allowing him to take the lead from here.
And soon enough, he leans down and captures your lips with his in what starts out as a gentle kiss. A couple of pecks turned into deeper kisses, and in no time you were burying your hands in his hair, fingers pulling at his mullet. The action elicits a soft sound from the taller man who pushes you up against the nearest wall, not before stumbling a bit and giggling against each other’s lips.
“Would’ve been bad if you fell.” He whispers in between kisses, his hand resting on the back of your head whilst the other grips your hip. You can feel the self-restraint slipping with each kiss, and it makes your body feel warm as you smile against his lips.
“You would’ve fallen with me so I don’t get embarrassed.” You tease him, your finger poking at his cheek and he chuckles, his hand falling from your head. He was now fully gripping your hips, caging you between the wall and his body.
“Mmm, my girl knows me so well.” He nudges your nose with his, smiling at your euphoric giggles. His lips attach against your cheek, then your jaw and down to your neck as you gasp in between giggles.
“Jean!”
“My girl, my wife,” he says the petname with so much pride, so much possessiveness that you could’ve sworn you felt your heart was about to explode.
“I have a feeling you like the sound of that,” you tease the man, brushing his hair away from his face before holding it in your hands. “Your face feels warm.”
“I love it,” he kisses the palm of your hand, before melting against your touch. “You have no idea.”
“Oh I think I do.” You whisper with a shy smile, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “My husband.”
Jean’s eyes widen for a moment, a strong feeling washes over him before he squeezes his eyes shut. He takes the hand that is holding his face before kissing it — its palm, its knuckles, repeatedly and so lovesick that you could feel your heart in your throat.
And then he opens his eyes, and his stomach flips at the way you’re looking at him. All flushed, almost drunk off his love for you. You were breathing hard, chest heaving as you stared at him as if he held the key to all of your secrets. Like he was the answer to all of your problems, as if existing without him was the worst and most unforgivable sin.
He pauses. Because telling you what he was thinking would ruin it, saying out loud that he was thinking of a million ways to have a conversation with your family about proposing to you would ruin the surprise. Because revealing that he had been saving up for a ring for the past six months would make you worry about him, about whether or not he was using his own salary for himself.
Jean knows you like the back of his hand. And he knows that if he were to propose tomorrow, with a paper ring and a shoebox for a house, you would accept.
But he would never do that — you were his princess, his sweetheart, his love. He was going to make you live out the fairytale of your dreams.
—
It should be illegal to be this attracted to your partner.
Jean’s eyes have been devouring your body ever since you got home, watching you walk around your shared bedroom then head for the bathroom. He leans against the doorframe as you remove your make-up, getting ready for the night as you grab a towel and your skincare products. Sensing his presence, you look at your boyfriend and smile.
“What?” you step closer to the shower before turning on the faucet. Jean quietly moves behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle.
“I can scrub your back?” He whispers against your cheek, groaning loudly when the smell of your perfume hits his nostrils. You giggle, a bit taken aback by his boldness.
“You never just scrub my back.” You point out, and the taller man playfully bites down on your earlobe.
“Did I say just scrub your back?” His hands sneakily find their way on your bare thighs, traveling their way up and under the fabric of your dress. “Scrub your back, wash your hair—”
Your hands rest on his toned forearms, smiling to yourself when you feel him squeeze your thighs.
“Soap my body too?”
This elicits another groan from Jean, and he swiftly reaches for the zipper of your dress. “Alright, let’s take it off.”
You can’t help but laugh at the urgency in his voice, but you’re also deeply flustered by how easy it is to make his self control crumble.
“Don’t forget yourself,” you mutter as he finishes unzipping your dress, taking a step back so you can step out of it and stand in front of him wearing only panties. With deliberate slowness, you undo the clasp of his belt and let it slide free. You thread it carefully through your fingers before gently yanking Jean towards you.
You continue to lift the leather belt through its loops, your other hand undoing the buttons of his white blouse. You let the belt drop to the floor, the sound of metal clanking against the tiles echoing through the bathroom, then you move closer to the man until your boobs are pressed against his bare chest.
The air is charged as you wrap your arms around his neck, a bashful smile dancing on your lips. “I wanna see all of you as well.”
Whatever self-restraint Jean had is long gone the moment he feels your skin against his. His lips crash against yours, messy and hurried as he swallows your sounds with his mouth. His big, warm hands grope your ass cheeks as you press your groin against his, gasping against his lips when you feel the growing bulge against your stomach.
You open your eyes, half-lidded and glossed over as you pull away from the kiss to catch your breath. But Jean captures your lips again, and you gasp when he pushes you up against the cold shower glass.
“I know baby,” your stomach twists at his tone — teasing yet mocking, and you pout at the man when you notice his playful smile. “Look at your nipples, they’re hard.”
He wastes no time in touching you, his thumb roughly grazing over the sensitive bud. Your back arches at the touch, your hand resting on his chest to make a small distance between the two of you.
“The water’s running.”
With a soft push, you put a little distance between the two of you before easing the glass door aside, Jean’s gaze following you. You step under the running water, making sure that your back was facing Jean as your fingers slide under the edge of your underwear. Looking over your shoulder, you send Jean a smile as you gradually work your underwear down and over your hips.
Once fully naked, you hear rustling coming from outside of the shower and smile to yourself as you see Jean yanking his blouse off his body then practically jumping out of his pants and boxers.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, d’you know that?”
You gasp as you feel his hands on your boobs, shamelessly groping and fondling them as you reach for the body wash. You hum in response, pushing your ass back so that it grazes his now fully erect cock. Immediately, Jean folds against you as he rests his forehead against your shoulder.
“Are you okay baby?” you ask and Jean can tell you’re finding this way too amusing.
“Mmmm,” is all he can say as he pushes his cock against your ass, his hand sliding down from your boob down to your stomach. It rests on your pubic bone, and the tall man can tell that you’re slowly losing patience as well just from the way your body was reacting to him.
You shudder at the feeling, hips bucking up. You wish he could just fuck you stupid, but a part of you was enjoying the build up a little too much.
“Was just thinking,” his chin is now propped on your shoulder, eyes staring down at your boobs and the rest of your body. “About how bad I want to fuck you.”
You sigh, cheeks flaring up at his dirty confession. Your hand reaches behind you to cradle his face, and you turn your head to look at him. “How bad do you want to fuck me, Jean?”
Pressing his forehead against yours, Jean carefully nudges the tip of his cock against your wet folds. It’s a euphoric feeling despite the lack of penetration, and he basks in the way your face contorts and twists when he swipes the tip of his cock over your clit.
“Til you feel it in your stomach, baby.”
You bite down on your lip, sighing at his words. “Please.”
The first thrust feels like you have been sent to heaven and back. It feels good, comforting, your warm walls hugging his cock so tight that Jean curses under his breath and bites down on your shoulder to suppress his own noises.
“Fuuuck, you’re so tight. Don’t I fuck you enough, huh? How’s this pussy still so fucking tight?”
You can only moan in response as you start to fuck yourself back against him, a gutteral sound escaping Jean as he watches your ass recoil with each thrust. He only lets you do the work for a couple of moments before his hand hooks under your leg, lifting it up as he starts to fuck you hard.
You gasp, holding yourself up against the wall as your eyes roll back.
The obscene sound of his cock pumping in and out of you fills the bathroom, the large vein that wraps around his dick dragging against your folds with each thrust. And he reaches so deep inside you that it elicits an embarrassing moan out of you, one that has you covering your mouth.
“Don’t hide from me,” Jean quickly removes your hand from over your mouth, his pace quickening. The tip of his cock reaches spots inside you that your own fingers can’t, and you quickly figure out that holding up your leg allows him to reach even deeper if possible.
The light-brown-haired male can no longer hide his own sounds, as the lewd sound of his hips violently slamming against yours were the only thing to reach his ears. The feeling of your tight pussy is the one thing that he can feel in his entire body, and he makes it his mission to make you cum as hard as you can.
“Fuck, you’re taking me so well.”
He holds you up well, making sure that you were balancing yourself well as he continues to fuck you with your leg in the air. Your leg starts shaking when the tip of his cock grazes that spot, and so he frees your leg before wrapping his arms around your body. With embarrassing ease, Jean manhandles you so that you are pressed face first against the glass door of the shower.
“What I’d take to see what you look like right now,” he mumbles against your ear, his cock buried deep inside your pussy. He starts to fuck you again, this time going so deep that you could almost feel him in your stomach.
It makes your eyes roll back, your cheeks stinging from the heat as your body gives out and lets him take full control. You rest your forehead against the glass when the pleasure becomes mind-numbing, your hands reaching behind you to grip his forearms as he continues to fuck you so good.
“Oh my god Jean, oh my god—”
“Don’t stop?” His voice was strained, he was close too.
“Please!”
Saying the magic word always got you what you wanted. Jean’s hips are relentless as he continues to slam the tip of his cock exactly how you liked. Coupled with his hands gripping your hips so possessively, your orgasm hits you like a train.
Your body shakes, goosebumps forming all over your skin as your pussy gushes on his cock. And you can’t stop cumming, Jean’s cock keeps fucking into you as he chases his own release and mutters filthy words of praise against your hair.
“My perfect woman, my pretty wife taking my cock like a fucking champ.” His moan is long and drawn and you cry out even more when you feel his hand go around your body to rub at your poor and neglected clit. “You’re so fucking good for me, you’re gonna cum for me again. Right?” His teeth sink into your earlobe and you sigh, your body temperature rising as you nod.
“Yeah!”
“Good girl.”
Jean gives one final slam of his hips before he’s emptying himself inside your pussy, cock nestled between your tight and warm walls. You take a moment to catch your breath, your body still twitching and recovering from what just happened.
You tell your boyfriend that you two need to hurry and wash up before the warm water runs out, and he jumps in action as he scrubs both your body and his, rinsing with water before stepping out to grab towels for the two of you.
By the time he returns with a warm towel, you’re trembling from the cold.
“Sorry I took too long.” You shake your head, letting him wrap the towel around your body.
“It’s okay,” you smile as you kiss his cheek. “Cover yourself or you’ll get sick.”
Jean kisses your forehead before patting your butt. “Go get dressed, you look like a poodle.”
You feign being offended as you gasp. “Take it back!”
“Thought you liked me for my honesty!”
You shout from the bedroom. “No! I liked you because you were tall and handsome!”
You hear Jean make the same noise you made earlier. “My girlfriend is shallow?!”
“Better break up with me.” you say playfully and Jean pops his head from the bathroom, his face all serious.
𖦹 jean kirstein loves strawberry ice cream after sex. ( 18+ )
the first time you and jean became intimate, you casually mentioned how much you were craving strawberry ice cream. without a word, jean rushed out of bed and didn't come back for a couple of minutes. you remember being slightly concerned, wondering if you said something wrong.
when he came back with a tub of strawberry ice cream and two spoons, you knew he was the one. ever since then, it's become a crucial part of your aftercare ritual.
tonight is no different. you stand leaning against his kitchen counter, wearing nothing but his button down you practically ripped off fourty five minutes ago. you've got the ice cream container sat open, twirling the sweat swirls of red against your spoon. the flavor on your tounge feels like heaven on earth. you sway your hips softly to the quiet music playing in your head. jean stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, swaying alongside you humming your favorite song softly.
it's the quiet moments like these that you crave the most. you feel nothing but the calm satisfaction coming from your core and the warmth in your chest knowing that you've found your soulmate already.
sometimes, like tonight, jean doesn't use a spoon, he can't keep his lips off yours long enough to find it necessary.
wrote this while eating strawberry ice cream in my kitchen at 1am. he's always in my head i need help
a/n: my first time writing Jean smut…. kinda? anyway pls let me know if u like it bcs idk what to think of this… also probably kinda ooc this is js what i think he would be like… that…or maybe it’s just cos I’m ovulating:( whateva
Jean is such a snarky top and such a needy, whiny bottom.
he’s a menace when he’s on top. and he’s so rough. so so rough. he doesn’t even try to be, that’s just how he is.
he pulls your hair. he kisses, licks, bites, nips, spits. it’s messy and ecstatic and gross all at once. he says he can’t help it, he gets pussy drunk to the point that it’s all he can think about—you and your sweet pussy, you and your soft moans and gasps. it goes straight to his head, turning his brain into mush. his thoughts shut off, all the logic and wit out the window. he’d be gentler if you want him to—no questions asked but this? this is his default.
he’s mean too. he loves watching you flushed beneath him, begging for more while he edges you until you’re overstimulated and crying, beseeching him to just fuck you already. but, oh, he loves to take his sweet time with you. he loves to taunt you, “so soaked for me, huh?” he grins against your skin. “cmon, baby. say please. lemme hear you.” and you do. loud and clear. sometimes it gets to the point that you’re not sure if you want to kiss him or throw him off the bed.
also, he has a thing for your neck. his palm is always wrapped around your throat through it and if not that, then his lips are there—kissing and sucking the soft skin or his face is buried against the crook of your neck, just where your shoulder dips. Jean can’t help it. even if it’s just a heated make out session, you’re walking away with at least three hickeys and you know it.
but when he’s under you? it’s a whole different story. Jean switches so fast—from snarky and dominant to submissive and pleading and god, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t do something to you.
he looks up at your with golden brown eyes—half lidded and imploring. ashy blonde hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and his hands claw at your thighs and hips, begging you to “keep going,” and “please don’t stop. please. please. please.” the repetitive “please” and “thankyous” never stop (what can I say? he’s a talker) and if you tend to get tired while riding him, he’ll just grab your waist, plant his feet on the mattress and move you himself (you think he couldn’t? the man slices down titans as a day job give him some credit).
when he’s finally close, cumming inside you, he doesn’t even try to hide the obscene sounds that leave his throat. the moans, the curses, the praises. he’s putty in your hands. beautiful, pathetic, needy putty.
if you ever try to bring it up afterwards, he isn’t even embarrassed. “you’re too good at it, babe, what can I say?” is all he tells you, making you blush instead. Jean does not care as long as he’s able to make you feel pleasure. he could get off just watching you feel good.
and if you think this is Jean Kirschtein being pathetic and moody and needy? then you’re in for quite a ride.
