A/N: Ahhh!! Last chapter before season 4, enjoy the fluff!
Warning- Sweet, heart melting FLUFF!!, light swearing, LONG CHAPTER! NSFW, dirty talk SMUT (it’s just a part. Not too long so for those of you who don’t like reading that stuff don’t worry, it’s towards the end, and regardless, I’llcolor the first word from where it starts, and then ends!)
Pairing- Jean Kirstein x reader
(Let me know if you want to be tagged)
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*YEAR 853*
A deep breath of air unfurls from your lungs and slowly and calmly escapes past your lips. The sand beneath your feet picks up, creating a thin sand cloud that drags back with a swift shift of your foot.
The air surrounding you is thick with anticipation, over exaggerated fear and excitement. The beating of your heart is fueled with adrenaline with no hint of fear lacing through your veins. That was a dangerous thing.
Sun beams reflect off your blade, bouncing off the metal with each twirl. When the spinning stops, on one side the ocean waves are mirrored on the shiny metal, whilst the other side captures every curve of your body as you slowly lift it, stopping the moment it’s just your cocky smirk captured on the tip of the blade.
As you take a second to register your surroundings, you capture Jean with his breath held over the use of real blades, Sasha and Connie with amused grins on their features, and Armin watching through the gaps between his fingers. Until finally you take in your cousin Mikasa shifting her fighting stance before you.
“You know,” Mikasa quips with her hand gripping her metal blade. “I like how confident you’ve become in yourself.” The corner of her lips twitch. “I think you might even beat me. For the first time.”
A/N- it’s a good chapter, I’m proud of it ;) let me know what you thought! Since this is also a cherry au, I’ll say this, this story will not affect Cherry whatsoever!
Warning- Swearing, angst, mentions of alcohol use, LONG CHAPTER! SLOWBURN, talks of death, ptsd and slight mentions of domestic violence
Pairing- Jean Kirstein x reader
(Let me know if you want to me be tagged)
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September Thirtieth. Time: eight twenty-one am. Battery percent fifty-one.
You: I’m sorry about yesterday. Things happened and I couldn’t make it, I wanted to let you know but my phone was dead all day. Can we make it up today?
Jean probably won’t answer anytime soon, or at all, but he needed to know you are genuinely sorry.
He might not believe you. You know you wouldn’t believe it, but from the bottom of your heart you were remorseful. And you truly did plan on making it to tutor him, but things did truly end up happening and you couldn’t go home until the next day.
Hopefully he understands. Even if you aren’t giving him a good reason, the true reason why you weren’t able to go like you agreed.
A/N- :) Since this is also a cherry au, I’ll say this, this story will not affect Cherry whatsoever!
Warning- Swearing, angst, THERE IS A SCENE THAT HAS DOMESTIC ABUSE! Please be careful before reading! mentions of alcohol use and drug use, SLOWBURN.
Pairing- Jean Kirstein x reader
(Let me know if you want to me be tagged)
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“Eric,” you call from the end of the street.
Said man instantly lifts his head and right away that angry look lit furiously in his grey eyes makes your heart begin to race, it makes you slow down your pace so as to not reach him so fast, it makes you tense and go unaware if Jean had actually left.
He didn’t. He stayed in his car that was hidden under the shadow of a tree. He was watching out of curiosity since you looked so frightened all of the sudden.
“Y/N,” Eric says with a huff. “Where the hell have you been?” He walks around his car to meet you at the edge of the sidewalk. “I’ve been waiting for you for hours! It’s fucking cold out here.”
Warning- Angst, SLOWBURN, Violence, LONG CHAPTER! Heartbreak and talks of death.
Pairing- Jean Kirstein x reader, Reiner Braun x reader
Episodes- 1x13-1x16
(Let me know if you want to be tagged)
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There’s nights, specifically the recent nights, where you have nightmares of being back underground. With Furlan and Isabel. Only them. More specifically with their dead bodies.
It’s weirdly vivid, and pitch dark. You knew that if someone were to ask you to describe the dream, you could give them every aspect of the cold and dark room, of every spot on the wooden ceiling, of every ridge on the floor boards. You could describe the humid, dirt, death, rotting stench that is uniquely tied to the underground. Even if it was supposed to be dark in the nightmare, you could describe Furlan and Isabel bodies exactly as they were splayed on the ground, with their pool of blood staining the floor surrounding them. Almost as if it was a past memory.
Their lifeless eyes were engraved to your mind, the dim picture of their wounded bodies haunted you. The cruel darkness swallowed you and the dirty corner you were curled by, trapped you in place so you were forced to keep seeing them.
When you would manage to wake from the nightmare, you would search for your candlelight, or the moonlight peeking through the window to remind yourself that you weren’t in the underground anymore. That their bodies weren’t by your feet.
Even if the nightmare felt oddly familiar though, like you had lived some aspect of that trauma in your past. But you couldn’t place it. It just played as a cruel nightmare now.
