Synopsis. What starts as a tiny misunderstanding quickly spirals into a complete emotional disaster when both Reiner and Jean become convinced you’re in love with the other one.
Now they’re jealous, passive-aggressive, painfully obvious about their feelings, and accidentally exposing themselves in front of you every five seconds.
Unfortunately for them, you think watching them suffer is a little funny.
Pairings. Reiner Braun x Reader, Jean Kirstein x Reader
Content. fem! reader, jealous behavior, idiots in love, mild arguing, pet names
Word count: 706
A/N. finals are beating my ass rn, but we persevere ♡
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]♡ Reiner and Jean both think you like the other one !
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It starts with a misunderstanding.
which, unfortunately, becomes several misunderstandings very quickly.
Because Jean notices you laughing at something Reiner says during dinner and immediately feels his mood sour.
not that he’d admit it.
especially not when Marco catches him staring.
“You know,” Marco says carefully, “normal people usually blink.”
“Shut up.”
Across the table, Reiner is suffering too.
because five minutes earlier, he watched you brush crumbs off Jean’s jacket sleeve with a soft smile and nearly combusted internally.
Bertholdt notices instantly.
“…you look upset.”
“I’m fine.”
“You bent your spoon.”
Reiner looks down.
The spoon is, in fact, folded in half.
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♡ meanwhile, you’re completely clueless ♡
Honestly, you never imagined either of them would actually like you like that. Reiner’s strong and awkward with his feelings, but strangely sweet—sometimes you catch yourself thinking about his hands or the way he listens. And Jean is infuriating, but he makes you laugh so easily your heart trips over itself. So you try not to overthink it. After all, they could never be interested in you, right?
Later that evening, after dinner, you’re sitting outside headquarters, enjoying the cool air, when Jean suddenly appears beside you.
awkwardly.
suspiciously awkwardly.
“Hey.”
“Hi?”
silence.
Jean clears his throat. “So… you and Reiner, huh?”
You blink. “Reiner and I, what?”
He avoids eye contact immediately. “Y’know. whatever’s going on there.”
Your brain short-circuits.
“…what?”
Before Jean can explain, the scene shifts as another voice cuts in.
“Interesting.”
Both of you look up.
Reiner stands nearby holding training gear, staring at Jean with the expression of a man actively losing psychological warfare against his own feelings.
“You’re one to talk,” Reiner says.
Jean stands instantly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know exactly what it means.”
“Actually, I don’t.”
“Sure.”
“Why are you saying sure like that?!”
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♡ The misunderstanding gets so much worse. ♡
Within minutes, the two are arguing.
not yelling.
worse.
passively aggressively.
“Well, maybe some people don’t flirt with everyone who breathes,” Jean snaps.
Reiner scoffs. “Coming from you?”
“At least I’m honest!”
“Honest? You literally changed shirts three times before dinner because they complemented your hair once.”
Jean’s face goes bright red instantly.
Your jaw drops.
“YOU WHAT?”
“THAT’S NOT THE POINT.”
Reiner immediately regrets speaking because now you’re staring at Jean.
which makes him jealous all over again.
This is hell.
actual hell.
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♡ Finally, somebody says it. ♡
“Wait,” you finally interrupt. “Hold on.”
Both men go silent immediately.
You look between them slowly.
“…you both thought I liked the other one?”
silence.
Jean looks away.
Reiner suddenly becomes deeply interested in the ground.
Oh my god.
OH MY GOD.
You stare at them in disbelief before laughing so hard you nearly fall off the bench.
Jean looks offended immediately. “It’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny.”
“It’s humiliating,” Reiner mutters.
You grin, cheeks hurting. “You idiots.”
Both of them look at you at the same time.
dangerous.
because now they look hopeful.
“…so?” Jean asks carefully.
You blink innocently. “So what?”
“Don’t play dumb.”
Reiner sighs tiredly. “Please don’t play dumb.”
Your smile turns suddenly sweeter.
meaner.
…maybe I just enjoy watching you both suffer. But you catch yourself glancing between them a little too long, something warm and electric curling beneath your teasing smile. Maybe it's less about watching them suffer, and more about how good it feels to have their attention—all of it, just for you.
Jean groans dramatically.
Reiner drops his face into one hand.
And honestly?
Neither of them denies they’d still let you ruin their lives.
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♡ a/n : thank u for reading angels ♱
The growth of this blog is remarkable. Thank you so much, my angels. Hope you enjoyed <3 mwahh ☾
• always high on weed/dabs/carts/edibles (doesn’t matter)
• his pale skin and green irises only accentuated the faint red tinge in the whites of his eyes, like a light blood splatter on american money
• hes tormented!! cut him a little slack. its not his fault his dad gave him the worst type ii bipolar disorder and narcissistic personality disorder a clinician’s ever seen
• gets horrendously horny when he’s high around you, starts touching and holding and kissing and biting you to get and keep your attention
• chews on his fingernails, jitters his legs, and licks and bites his lips as he stares at you, as he feels himself getting harder and harder at the thought of you getting wetter and wetter
• whines about how his throat is dry and he needs to taste you, to drink the liquid sliding out of you, until his tongue and jaw were cramping and his mouth was sore
• will pull you into his lap, gnaw on your shoulder and the lobe of your ear as his hands creep down your abdomen towards the source of the wet stain forming on his lap
• his voice lowers an octave as he begs to touch and taste you, as he asks if his hands and lips inching closer to your crotch is allowed and okay because he so desperately craves your approval
• “oh, baby, please, baby, only you can fix my dry mouth with your wet, pretty fucking pussy, god, baby, please, i’m so thirsty”
• moans so fucking loud when you finally give in and let him lick your clit, his fingers eagerly digging into your thighs as he pulls you so, so much closer, until there’s no air between his mouth and your skin
• devolves into demanding that you ride his face, hop and slide on his mouth with your shiny thick thighs with absolutely no hesitation, no regard for his lungs
zeke
• sad king who drinks most nights
• a gin and tonic or scotch on the rocks kind of man. likes the burn at the back of his throat on the way down
• confessed a similar reason to why he swims; liking the burning ache in his lungs when he holds his breath under the water. reminds him he’s alive
• has a poor relationship with his parents and half-brother. wants and sometimes tries to reconcile but he’s not really a people-person and he struggles to forgive
• divulges to you about his neglected dreams and pile of regrets, over analyzes situations until it all feels hopeless and meaningless
• holds you closer and tighter, at first because he’s fighting tears but then because he’s overcome with pure devotion because you’re here, with him, comforting him, every time
• and he’s certain you have so many other places you could be and more interesting people you can be with and yet you’re holding him too
• tells you that you mean the world to him, that he’s hopeless without you, that you give him something to smile and dream about, that he’d be nothing without you
• he’ll hold your wrists behind your back with one large hand and hold your neck with the other, prying your lips apart and re-introducing your tongues to each other, like he does every other night
• his hands roam as you kiss, his fingernails lightly tracing the goosebumps on your skin to the tail of your spine, the other hand following the curves of your ribcage to where your breast naturally interrupted
• “oh, i love your body, i live to please you, i live for you,” he’ll murmur for the thousandth time against your tongue as his long fingers clasp around your fleshy boob, squeezing with a fearful hold that you’ll pull away and leave him like everyone else
levi
• sex. with you. a lot.
• he doesn’t talk about his feelings or explain his emotions. there are no conversations about his past and his future. they all start one sided, and end in sex
• it’s a cop out. he knows it, you know it, but it’s so fucking good you don’t really care
• every time you try to ask about his family, his friends, his career, or even if he thinks there’s a future between you two, he’s avoiding the question and shoving his tongue down your throat
• he keeps his hand around your neck as he kisses you insistently, as he tries to kiss you until you’re dizzy and you forgot that he was trying to distract you in the first place
• gets needy and wanting, turning you around, stripping you, and bending you over before you could say a word
• impatient and selfish. he drops some lube into his palm and slicks his own cock up, shoving two or three fingers in you for short, to-be-desired thrusts before he’s gasping over you and inching the tip to your exposed muscles
• he chortles airily at the hearty moan you release once he presses inside, the euphoria encompassing his dick and shipping through his bloodstream
• he practically bends you in half, arranging you so he’s pounding into your pussy with your ass presented to his face and your own face shoved into a pillow, mascara and eyeshadow staining into the sheets at the growing desirable ache in your abdomen
• smacks your ass until his handprint is visible as he relentlessly shoves himself inside you, as he gives you every inch of muscle control and strength he has
reiner
• chronic cigarette smoker
• built balcony and patio attachments to your house so he could easily step outside
• you watched him build them shirtless and sweaty, a lighter tucked loosely in his low cut pant pockets and a cigarette lightly held behind his ear
• tries his best to cover the sour tobacco smell with rustic vanilla or mahogany colognes. up for debate when it worked, but the mix of scents really could be oddly pleasant sometimes
• he’s haunted by regrets he won’t even tell you about. doesn’t want to burden you, or rather burden himself with the knowledge that then you’d know too, and there really would be no running away
• you could see them as shadows behind his glassy eyes, always lingering when the lights were on and engulfing him in the dark
• you took it upon yourself to lift his moods, to break him free from the thought patterns that kept him chained to his lot in life
• brought the metaphor to life and bought handcuffs and rope, tied and locked his ankles and wrists to the bedposts, his vulnerability on full display
• his whole body was blushed pink as you gingerly caressed him, crawled up and down his rigid muscular body and ran your sharp fingernails and tongue down his center
• you reminded him he was chained down when he abruptly reached up and out for you, his wrists aggressively slapping back against the mattress or his legs threatening to break the post with fast squirms
• like a wolf chasing after a rabbit, reiner huffed and drooled over you and the sexy shapes you made with your hips as you wiggled all over him, grinded against him and relished in the whines and begs to be released from his holds and touch you
armin
• first got into gambling when eren convinced him to go to a casino for his 21st birthday
• and while the huge crowds and loud noises and overstimulating lights originally raised his anxiety, the adrenaline and excitement of playing and winning won out
• tried to quit a few times but always found his way back to gambling and betting
• card game aficionado. loves the tactile nature of it, always plays with the corners of the cards with his fingertips. sometimes you catch him shuffling and playing cards in his free time at home
• poker is easily his favorite, especially because he can read people like a book. you could never lie to or hide from him
• refuses to say it’s an addiction. it’s more of an intricate hobby, or a challenge he has to bet his way out of
• the worst part is he’s actually pretty good at it and wins more than seventy percent of the time. but when he loses, he loses and he obsesses over it for days
• during good streaks he buys you expensive knickknacks and trinkets and blankets and jewelry, takes you out to dinner more frequently
• feels extra confident when he’s on a hot winning streak, buying you lingerie and telling you to wear it, to turn it into a show for him in the bedroom with him sat on the bed and the lights on
• his hot hands and cold metal rings needily grasp at your sides, his wet tongue caressing the lacy line where the lingerie met your cleavage
• he’ll get impatient, too turned on with your dance to contain himself so he’ll pull you onto his hard erection and bite the nape of your neck to hold you in place
• he’ll stand up and turn you over, hover over you as the mattress shapes to your curves and armin’s hands follow
• loves fingering you with three to four fingers, his eyes doubling in size as he watches your muscles stretch and encompass the appendages. has to clutch the base of his dick like a cock ring to prevent himself from cumming at the site and at the warm, blankety feeling
• sometimes likes to be a bit cheeky and not take his rings off, letting the rings escape inside your opening and feeling it slide toughly against his skin in contrast to your so soft, so sensitive, so inviting body
• the cool metal of his rings was always enticing, and you always gasped heartily and physically thrived at the hard cold material inside
• “oh, shit, baby, i think my ring came off inside you,” he tells you calmly with a wide premeditated smirk, his fingers going limp inside you, “let me just get it out real quick”
• he’ll poke and prod and fold his fingers against your tissue as the ring moves loosely inside you, as you feel yourself building to an inescapable high with armin’s cheeky smirk between your legs as the ring just so happens to keep slipping from his grasp
jean
• jealous jeanyyyyyy
• glares at other men as they talk to you, even if it’s something as innocent as asking for directions or for a petition signature
• usually steps between you and the offending man, escalates the situation beyond necessity by antagonizing the man and firmly demanding an apology for wasting your time
• his blood just boils like hot water in a kettle when he sees you with someone else, someone that’s not him but it should be
• has issues sharing, so there was no way in hell you were slipping out of his attention, and he’s arrogantly insecure, to the excess point that you should only see and talk to him. he’s all you should need right?
• when he saw you calmly talking to eren he flipped his lid, said fuck it to the world and interrupted the conversation
• brings you to the nearest private (i.e., empty and lockable) room and pushes you against the wall or door, his hand firmly locking around your neck
• his hands were so large your whole neck was covered. his fingers were so long the tips touched at the back. his grip was present and firm, and maybe a bit threatening
• “do i speak another language to you? am i on another fucking planet so far you can’t even hear me?”
• he’ll slap the wall next to your ear with his open palm, smirk as you jump from surprise at the sudden outburst
• he leans closer to your ear, the pressure of his hand against your windpipe slightly increasing, his wet hot tongue flicking against your sensitive exposed ear
• “do i need to teach you another lesson?” another light squeeze. “on how to behave?”
The second installment to my triology on the interesting musings of jealousy that sweeps over Jean whenever Joy shows up.
In The first installment I explored episode 1.4, the first meeting of Joy. It’s posted on FanFic under Early Stirrings of Jealous.
The second installment, which is fully mapped and mostly written, will be another 3 part exploration into Jean’s psyche that is teased out when Joy reappears. Parts 1 & 2 will be centered around episode 1.6 and Part 3 will be based on 1.10. This story will be called Jealous Ruminations.
The final installment will complete the set and focus on the climax of Joy and Jean in episode 2.1. Specifically looking at Jean’s acceptance of Joy in her life-orbit and then the fall out from the young woman’s tragic death. Asking the question how does she moron a woman she despised, that she was so jealous of and yet she does. This final piece will be entitled Jealousy Resigned.
Stay tuned for this and other fun stories.
If you have any ideas that you think might be in my wheelhouse shoot me a message/ask.
Jean leaned up against the door and stared at the note that Ms. McDonald handed her a moment ago. She may not have gone to university, but she was no dummy. She saw the interest in the younger woman's eyes, she was definitely after a story and didn't care whether Lucien looked poorly in the process. There was more though, her red lipstick and tight blouse certainly highlighted her feminine features a man would have to be blind to miss her seductive cues and Lucien was not blind, of that she was sure. She looked down at her chest for a moment and sighed, they weren't nearly as big as hers and after two kids they definitely weren't as perky.
Her fingers toyed with the scrap of paper, still debating what to do with it. Part of her, well more than fifty percent she was loathed to admit wanted to toss it out with the rubbish. She didn't need this woman poking her nose around making life difficult for the Doctor, he managed well-enough at that on his own. Jean finally pushed herself away from the door, willing her legs to move down the empty hallway, grateful that for once the house was empty. She didn't want Mattie coming upon her with her curious eyes, the woman would read her instantly. Jean shook her head, what would she have to read she was merely a friend looking out for another friend, or rather an employee looking out for her boss.
She let out a guttural groan, annoyed with herself, she walked into his office and set the note down on his desk. As usual it was a mess, filled with papers and notes, instinctually she began picking things up to straighten away the clutter when she stopped. She felt wicked as her hands stilled, she realized that if she left the note on his desk in this state he might not see it, perhaps even lose it as he did his receipts. Jean bit her lip as she weighed the pros and cons of her devious thoughts, it didn't seem proper for a housekeeper/receptionist to keep things like this from her employer, after all taking messages was a fundamental part of her job. A wave of panic surged within when she wondered if he would let her go over something like this, she took a deep breath calming her anxiety. Lucien didn't strike her as the type of man that would do that, his father maybe, but not the son. She thought back to his words just a few weeks earlier, "I need a partner," and with that thought coursing through her veins she cleared the desk and set the note from Joy down where he'd be able to see it. As she let the note fall from her hands and watched it drift down to the desk she felt as though she was giving him away. She shook her head, he wasn't hers to give away even if she thought that there might be something there, something that they already shared between them. She straightened her back and stepped out of the study intent to butcher a chicken for dinner, if for no other reason than to release the wicked sensation of jealousy she felt.
