Archive of Our Own

“Is Eren here?”

“No? I thought he was with you?”

“He’s not…” you sigh heavily, letting your eyes fall shut as you pinch the bridge of your nose, frustrated. “He’s not here?”

“No,” Jean repeats, this time with more weight behind his tone. 

You open your eyes and look up at Jean leaning against the doorway of the apartment he shares with your boyfriend. He looks down at you with his eyebrows furrowed in concern, arms crossed over his bare chest while his grey sweats cling to his hips. 

“Everything ok?” he asks, noticing your disheveled appearance and your red rimmed eyes. 

“Can I… wait here? For him?” You look away from Jean’s probing stare as the dull burn of embarrassment crawls up the back of your neck. 

Jean stares down at you for a beat before stepping aside. He doesn’t say a word when you walk past him, your head still low when you sit down on the couch stiffly. He closes the door behind you and follows after you into the living room, settling himself next to you on the couch before continuing to eat his cereal. 

“Are you ok?” he asks around a mouthful of food. 

“We got in a fight last night,” you explain, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. “He stormed off and I just wanted to apologize. I thought maybe he came back here.”

Jean doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to shovel another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. This is the third time this week you’ve come over in the morning with swollen, red-rimmed eyes asking to see Eren — but Eren’s not here. He hasn’t been home all night. 

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” Jean says finally, no conviction behind his reassuring words. 

“Yeah.”

You sit in silence together as Jean finishes his breakfast. You struggle to keep the tears at bay, sniffling quietly every few minutes. 

“Do you want, like, a drink or something? Some water?”

“I’m ok.”

Jean always stays with you when Eren’s gone. You think it’s because he feels bad about the way Eren treats you: inviting you over and then leaving for hours to go to the gym or not answering your messages after a big fight and leaving you to wait at the apartment for him to come back after storming out.

The two of you were strangers when you first started dating Eren, but after months of this, you’ve promoted him to person-I-know.

“Wanna watch tv or something?”

“Sure, whatever.”

Jean uses the remote to scroll through different shows on Netflix, leaning back on the couch with one arm behind his head. He puts on some animated series that you don’t recognize. 

“What the hell is this show?” you ask, mouth turned into a frown. 

“What? You don’t like it?”

“It’s a cartoon.”

“Cartoons aren’t just for kids.”

“Yeah, I can see that — this is depressing.”

“It’s not depressing, it’s realistic,” Jean says with a frown. “It’s about the struggles of mental illness and the illusion of forgiveness.”

“The illusion of forgiveness?” you ask, looking over at him. 

“Yeah. Forgiveness is complicated and elusive and never owed,” he gestures to the television screen as he speaks. “This show talks about how it’s ok to not forgive someone — that sometimes people are shitty and you don’t have to accept their apology.”

“I see,” you say, turning back to the screen. “Sorry for misunderstanding the depth of your little cartoon.”

“I don’t forgive you,” he says.

The two of you glance over at each other from the corners of your eyes and you catch his smirk before returning your attention to the tv. 

Jean is nice to you, he’s always been nice. The first time Eren left you at his apartment, you had just stayed in his bedroom and played on your phone, but when one hour turned to two, you eventually needed to get up to go to the kitchen.

Jean was playing video games on the tv when you came out and he offered for you to sit with him and hang out. Although you barely knew him, it was better than sitting in Eren’s room alone.

You didn’t understand the game Jean was playing, but he talked with you the entire time. He asked about school and your classes, your part-time job, even a bit about your family. Awkward small talk quickly turned to witty back-and-forth as you became more comfortable. Jean was easy to talk to, a little flirty, and funny.

When Eren came back from the gym, three hours later, dressed in his regular clothes and smelling like strawberries, you caught the dirty look Jean sent him when he asked how the gym was.

You start to lose yourself in the show, the two of you sitting in silence together before Jean finally says: “You should dump him.”

“What?” you’re startled by his words, blinking away from the tv to look over at him. 

“I said, you should dump him,” Jean repeats. “He’s a piece of shit, you could do better.”

You laugh, tight and forced. “No, Eren’s great.”

“Then where is he?”

Jean’s words cut you like a knife and you physically recoil. “I thought you two were friends, why are you encouraging me to dump him?” you ask, deflecting. 

“We’re not really friends. We just live together.”

You finally turn to look over at Jean, spread out next to you with an arm hooked behind his head. His body is relaxed, melting into the couch, but his face is still knitted into a concerned frown. 

“Come on,” he says with a scoff. “You can’t be happy with that loser.”

“I am.”

You’re not. 

He rolls his eyes, shifting his gaze from your face to the tv in front of him. “Whatever.”

You try to bring your attention back to the tv after Jean’s dismissal, but you’re in an argumentative mood after your fight with Eren last night. “What do you know?” you snap, leaning back into the couch. You cross your arms over your chest and huff, turning to look over at the shirtless man spread out on the couch next to you. 

He shifts in his seat until he’s tilted towards you, one leg folding up on the couch, giving you his full attention. “You’re a smart girl,” is all he says. 

You stiffen, sucking your cheek between your teeth as your eyes narrow. “What does that mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

You do. You’re not stupid. You think Eren’s cheating on you, and that he has been for a while. But still, here you are, waiting on his couch while he wakes up from wherever he is so you can beg for forgiveness for the fight that he started last night. He’ll huff and roll his eyes, but he’ll forgive you eventually. Then he’ll fuck you and things will be back to normal for a bit — until the next time you ask him to hang out and he complains that you’re too clingy and that you’re smothering him. 

“You can do better,” Jean continues. “Don’t let that asshole make you cry so much, he doesn’t deserve you.” Unusually kind words from Eren’s usually standoffish roommate.

“You don’t know what he’s like when we’re together,” you say, still feeling obligated to defend your relationship despite your sinking suspicions. 

“Please, enlighten me,” Jean says, leaning forward until his elbows are resting on his knees. 

You turn away to try to hide your blush when you catch a whiff of Jean’s citrus cologne as he leans toward you. Eren’s scent is an overpowering, heavy, vanilla — it’s unmistakable any time he enters a room (except for when he comes home from the gym, then he smells like strawberries or lavender or cocoa butter), you can smell him before you even see him. With Jean, his cologne is light and fleeting, but it smells so good you almost want to lean forward into him.

Instead, you lean back.

“He’s kind, charismatic, and determined,” you say, counting off Eren’s traits on your fingers as you list them off. “Funny, smart, passionate, strong-willed, athletic, loyal—” Jean scoffs at that, and you hesitate to raise your last finger but brush him off quickly. “Eren has a lot of great qualities.”

“You forgot: stubborn, impulsive, and lacks self-restraint.”

“He’s not…” You struggle to defend him as Jean smirks at you from the other end of the couch.

“Why would a girl like you ever stay with someone like him?” He muses as his eyes trail down your body and you nervously tug the hem of your dress further down your thighs under his gaze. “Is he your first?”

“No,” you say quickly — too quickly, and Jean’s smirk grows into a wolfish grin.

“Ok, it all makes sense now.” He leans back against the far end of the couch, both hands lacing together behind his head as he reclines backwards. “You’ve never been with anyone else. You don’t realize there are other options.”

You turn away from him, facing the tv and pressing your arms tighter against your chest. “I’ve been with plenty of other people,” you lie. 

“Whatever you say, sweetie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Oh, sorry. I guess you prefer princess, huh?”

You stiffen at Jean’s words, keeping your head fixed forward as your eyes dart over to look at him on the couch. How could he know that name? That’s what Eren calls you when he’s…

Of course, Jean knows — the walls in the apartment are paper thin. Just like you can hear him chatting with his friends over Discord in his room, he can hear you panting and whining when Eren’s fucking you. He’s probably heard every dirty little thing Eren’s said to you in the bedroom, every pathetic moan and plea that’s come from your lips, every lewd sound from between your thighs.

The thought makes your whole body burn in embarrassment and you bring your eyes forward to focus on the show on the tv. You swallow loudly, trying to calm the pounding of your heart in your chest as you try to think of something to say — some way to change the subject.

“Pervert,” you whisper instead, voice shaking.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s cute.”

You frown, turning over to look at him still sitting there with that shit-eating grin on his face. He’s having fun teasing you like this. Jean is always teasing you about something when you’re alone together. Just flirty banter mid-conversation.

Jean laughs at you and you watch as the muscles in his stomach tighten with every breath. His body isn’t quite as sculpted as Eren’s is from years of hockey and hours spent at the gym. Jean is a little softer and a little skinnier, he’s on the hockey team too, but you know that every minute of free time he has is spent in front of his computer playing games. His body looks more approachable than the rigid muscles of Eren’s body. 

Your eyes dart back up to Jean’s face after realizing that you’ve been staring at his torso, to see him smirking over at you. “Stop looking at me,” you say, defensively. As if you weren’t just ogling the faint trail of ash brown hair and where it disappears under the waistband of his sweatpants.

He leans forward again to rest on his knees and this time you lean forward into him, too, mirroring his position. “Come on, you’re a pretty girl. I bet guys hit on you all the time. Why are you wasting your time with him?”

They don’t, Jean is just being nice, you think, but you blush all the same. “Guys don’t hit on me,” you admit, tone sharp. 

His eyebrows raise in surprise. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” you snap, rolling your eyes. 

“Ok, so you just settled for Eren, then. The first guy to give you any attention.”

“No,” you say quickly — too quickly. 

His smirk turns into a soft frown and he leans back slightly to run a hand through his hair. You release a shaky breath you didn’t realize you were holding when he moves away. 

“I can’t believe you get all dressed up like this to apologize when he’s being an asshole,” he says, gesturing to your outfit.

You sputter, struggling to find the words to deny his accusation and defend yourself, but he silences you with a knowing look. Instead, you tighten the crossed arms on your chest and purse your lips in annoyance. 

“If you were my girlfriend, I’d be the one groveling,” he continues, leaning forward again. “I’d be making you breakfast and rubbing your feet.” You laugh despite yourself, bringing a hand up to hide your smile and you don’t miss the way Jean’s face softens when you do. “I’d be the one begging you for a second chance after acting like a dumbass.”

“What would you make for breakfast?”

He smiles. “What do you like? I can make a mean omelet.”

“Yet you’re having cereal for breakfast?” you ask, gesturing to the now-empty bowl on the coffee table. 

“Can’t spoil yourself everyday,” he says with a wink. “I’d even bring it to you in bed, too. Wouldn’t let you lift a finger until you forgave me.”

“What if I still didn’t forgive you?”

“I’d buy you chocolates, roses…” he trails off, waving his hand in the air. “A stuffed animal — I don’t know, whatever it is you girls like.”

“Wouldn’t know, eh? Never been with a girl before?”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, I’ve been with plenty of girls.” When he says it, you believe him. 

You can tell from the way he carries himself and the way he acts around you. Sometimes you catch him looking at you when you walk around the apartment — no, staring at you — his eyes dark and predatory as they skim down your body. When he realizes he’s been caught, he just smirks and winks at you as you run away back to the safety of Eren’s bedroom. The flood of heat you feel between your thighs from just a few lingered glances is more than enough to convince you that Jean has, indeed, been with plenty of girls. 

“And what if that still doesn’t work?” you press, squirming in your seat, hungry for the feeling of his eyes on you again. 

“There are… other things I could try.”

And Jean feeds you immediately, his eyes darkening as you feel a heat blooming in your core. You know exactly what direction this conversation is about to turn, and you steer into it eagerly. “Like what?” You quirk up a brow and let a small, shy smile grow on your face. 

Jean exhales sharply, rolling his tongue against his cheek, eyes dropping to your chest for a beat before returning to your face. “You wanna know?”

“Yeah,” you insist, leaning forward. “Tell me.”

Talking with Jean like this always excites you. You wouldn’t exactly call it flirting, but you wouldn’t dare do it around Eren. It’s like your little secret: the teasing jokes and lingered glances. It’s been happening more and more recently, since you and Eren have been fighting so much.

A part of you almost feels guilty — but not today. 

“I’d kiss you everywhere until you forgave me.”

“Like where?”

Excitement flashes in his eyes and he shifts forward on the couch, moving until his leg is pressed against yours. “I’d start here,” he says, pointing at your lips. 

You stay still despite the pounding in your chest as his fingers ghost across your skin. “Then I’d move here and here.” His fingers tap your cheek and then gently behind your ear. 

“Then I’d kiss all along here,” he says, gliding his fingers down from behind your ear, along your neck, to the ridge of your collarbone. 

At this, your whole body shivers and Jean bites his lip to hold back his grin. “Would you forgive me after that?” he asks, fingers still pressed into your collarbone, voice low. 

“No,” you say, clipping your words to hide the shake in your voice. 

“Then I’d kiss you here,” his hand moves to your leg, his large, warm hand gripping around your bare ankle as his eyes stay on your face, gauging your reaction. 

When you don’t back down or show signs of discomfort, he continues. “And here,” his hand slides up your calf to just under your knee.

“And here.” His voice is breathy when his hand slides up past your knee to your thigh, his fingertips nudging under the hem of your dress while his thumb presses firmly on your inner thigh. 

Your body is on fire from his touch and you’re struggling to keep your breathing level as he looms beside you. Jean’s face is so close to yours now, you would only have to move forward a bit to press your lips against his. 

It’s a silly thought, but you can’t seem to get it out of your head, not as he looks down at you with his darkened brown eyes. 

You swallow loudly and uncross your arms from your chest, letting them settle on each of your thighs. Your one hand gently rests on Jean’s and you feel him stiffen at your touch. 

What the two of you are doing right now is risky — Eren could be home any minute, but you’re sad and you’re hurt and a really cute boy is sitting in front of you. You decide to forget about Eren for now, just like he forgot about you last night. 

“Where else?” you ask, voice quiet and breathy. 

“Yeah?” Jean asks, a challenge. His eyebrow quirks up as he rolls his tongue over his bottom lip, moistening it. He’s giving you an opportunity to back down, but you don’t take it. 

His eyes drop down to your lips as you mirror his movements. “Yeah,” you respond. 

He grips your thighs with both hands and pulls you into his lap until your chest is flush with his. You wrap your arms around his neck and you sit perched on his lap, looking down at him. 

“I’d kiss you here,” his hands slide under your dress, gripping hard on your inner thighs. “And here,” they slide back to grab at your ass, rolling your hips forward against his. 

You can’t control the stuttered moan that falls from your lips as he rolls his hips against yours and Jean groans in response. “You’re so fucking hot, you know that?” he says, voice low and gruff. 

You pull your arms back so you can tangle your fingers in his hair. It’s smooth and soft, well taken care of, and you can’t help but run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. Jean’s eyes fall shut and he tilts his head back slightly, sighing heavily.

He leans his face toward yours, brushing your nose with his as his breath falls hot and heavy against your face. He wants to kiss you, you can tell, but he’s letting you take the lead. 

Your heart is racing in your chest and a fire is pooling in your core. With a shaky, hesitant hand, you cup your hand under Jean’s jaw and slide your thumb over his cheek and then gently over the soft pads of his lips. 

Jean’s eyes open slowly and fix on yours, his expression soft. His grip on your ass loosens, sliding back softly onto your thighs. Another opportunity to back off, a chance to walk away and pretend this never happened. 

But, you don’t want that. 

You lean forward, eyes falling shut as you press your lips against his. 

Jean is soft and gentle, his lips parting to slide his tongue along your lower lip. You sigh into the kiss, mirroring his movements and letting him lead you into a deeper, more passionate kiss. 

Jean tastes like sugar from his cereal. He smells like citrus and clean laundry. And you let his soft hands roam across your body, fingers digging into your waist as he pulls you tighter against him. 

He shifts his hips under you until each movement has you grinding down onto his hardening cock. The feeling of rubbing against another man like this has you feeling dizzy in arousal but sick from guilt — how can Eren do this to you?

“Are you ok?” Jean asks, pulling away from the kiss as he notices your grip weaken around him. “We can stop.”

But instead you shake your head, pressing your lips into Jean’s neck. “No. You’re right. I should dump him.”

Jean stumbles over his words as you lick and suck on his throat, one hand tangled in his hair and the other running down along his bare chest. 

If you’re going to dump Eren anyway, the logical part of your brain tells you to stop what you’re doing so you don’t cheat on him. Even if it’s during your final moments, it’s not right — you know that. 

But when Jean moans, deep from his chest as you sink your teeth into his shoulder, the emotional side of your brain takes over. 

You need to fuck him, now — it can’t wait.

“Your room,” you mumble, lips still pressed against his skin. “Let’s go — to your room.”

You move to crawl off his lap to walk to his room, but he hooks his arms under your thighs when he stands up, lifting you with him. You gasp in surprise, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he leads you down the hall and into his bedroom, kicking his door shut behind him. 

He doesn’t speak to you again until you’re laid back on his bed and he has his arms caged around you. “Take this off,” he growls, running one hand up your body to push your dress off. He’s done giving you chances to bail out of what you’re doing together. 

With both hands you pull the dress up and over your head, leaving you in the matching set of red lacy underwear you had put on for Eren. Jean groans in approval, biting his lip as he runs his hand along the curve of your breast, trailing it down your waist before resting his palm on the front of your underwear. 

“This is so sexy, what the fuck,” he says, breathless. 

You laugh nervously, suddenly embarrassed. “What?”

His eyes move up from your body to your face. “Is this always what you have underneath your little dresses?”

“Maybe,” you say, face burning. 

Jean presses a soft kiss to your lips, then your cheek and behind your ear. He trails slow, open mouthed kisses along your neck, resting finally at your collarbone.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, so quietly you almost can’t hear him. He sits back on his knees on the bed, his cock tenting in his sweats. He grabs your ankle, pressing his lips on the top of your foot, your inner ankle, and then trailing up your calf. 

You squirm beneath him as the feeling of his soft lips on your skin pools a heat in your core. He keeps his eyes on you as he kisses up along your calf and over your knee. Jean scoots back a bit on the bed until he can rest on his forearms between your legs, still pressing kisses on your skin as he trails up your thigh. 

“Jean,” you gasp, gripping the bed sheets as his lips move closer and closer to your aching core. 

With his lips pressed into your inner thigh, just next to your underwear, he smirks. He licks a stripe along the crease of your inner thigh before leaning back on his knees and repeating the process with your other leg. 

“Jean!” you whine, writhing on the bed below him as he presses teasing kisses into your skin. 

“What?” he hums, eyes half-lidded and watching your every reaction. 

“Touch me, please,” you beg as his lips press into your inner thigh. 

“Where?”

You whimper as he ghosts his mouth across your clothed pussy, resting his lips on the small black bow on the front of your underwear. 

“Where?” he presses as you gasp and squirm under him. 

Eren doesn't usually go down on you, or when he does, it's not for very long. It's never been something he was really into doing and you never pushed it because you weren't even sure if you really liked it, honestly. It felt awkward having his face between your thighs and his uncoordinated tongue against you — but this! 

You can't control yourself from begging to have Jean's mouth on you from the way he ghosts his lips up and down your thighs. The heat of your arousal grows immensely with every pass of his hot breath on your clothed pussy until all you can think about is how it will feel when his mouth is on you.

“Jean, please — I want your mouth on my — under my —“

You can hardly form words as he runs his hands up and down your thighs, still smirking while he kisses along the fabric of your underwear. 

“I’m still not sure where you want me,” he teases, brushing his thumbs up and down along your outer lips through the thin fabric of your underwear. 

You run your hands through his hair, gripping it hard as you whine. “Please, Jean! I want you to eat me out!”

“Why didn’t you just say so,” he says, feigning annoyance before hooking two fingers under the crotch of your underwear to move it aside. He groans in approval as he watches a string of your translucent arousal cling to the fabric.

His hot breath on your bare pussy has you tugging on his hair impatiently. “Please, Jean, please!”

He chuckles, amused by your desperation before running a long, wet stripe with his soft tongue along your entrance. The moan you release is guttural and he does it again and again and again. 

Jean eats you out like he’s starved. He tongues you and sucks you and teases you until you’re a squirming, panting mess beneath him with the lewd, wet sounds of his tongue against your cunt filling the room. He eats you like this is just as pleasurable for him as it is for you. Each teasing lick brings you closer to the edge, before he falls back and peppers you with soft kisses. It’s agonizing and you love it. 

“You’re so worked up,” he teases as your pussy drools on his chin. He licks long, languid stripes across your entrance to clean up the mess you’re making, each movement causing you to twitch and roll your hips up against his face.

You cry out his name in choked sobs as his tongue slides inside of you, the warm, wet muscle probing your slick walls as he nudges his nose against your clit. He moans into you every time you buck against his face, desperate for more contact, desperate for release. But he continues to tease you, sucking on your lips and swirling his tongue around your clit until his face is covered in your slick. 

“You taste so fucking good,” he groans, eyes falling shut as he loses himself between your legs. He rolls his hips against the mattress for some stimulation against his aching cock as his tongue flicks over and back on your clit. “So fucking good.”

You whimper and tug his face harder against you as you feel him building a steady rhythm. “Jean — feels so good, fuck, it feels so good,” you gasp as he sucks your swollen clit into his mouth. 

“Don’t stop,” you whine. “Wanna cum so bad,” you gasp as his tongue flicks over and back, over and back, over and back. 

Your legs tremble on either side of his head as you feel your orgasm finally building to a crescendo. Your whines and moans become louder and Jean’s grip on your thighs becomes bruising to hold you open for him. 

“Jean, please — so close, so close!” His groan of approval for your desperate pleas finally sends you over the edge. Like a rubber band being snapped, your body is overcome with the white hot pleasure of your orgasm, your pussy clenching and gushing against Jean’s chin as he licks and sucks you through your waves. 

When your cries of pleasure turn to whimpers and shudders, he pulls his face away from you. You look down at him between your legs, to see his face glistening with your arousal, the tops of his cheeks flushed, and his pupils blown out. He looks so fucking hot between your legs like this. 

“You taste so good,” he repeats, sitting up on his hands to crawl up your body. “Wanna taste?”

You nod, cupping his face in your hands and pulling his face into yours. His kiss is less gentle and more frantic as your tongue traces along his lips, tasting yourself in his mouth. 

He lowers his body against yours gently, keeping most of his weight off of you but pressing himself solidly against your chest. You wrap your legs around his waist and roll your hips up against his cock. 

“Please, Jean, fuck me — I need you,” you whine as you grind against his still-clothed cock. 

He tsks, nipping your lower lip as he pushes your legs off of him. “You’re so impatient,” he scolds, spreading your thigh open to tease your opening with his fingers. “Let me stretch you out, first.”

Jean slides his middle finger into you with no resistance, your pussy is already slick and wet from his mouth and your earlier orgasm, but he still takes the time to gently work his digit inside of you. His fingers are longer and thicker than Eren’s, reaching deep into you in a way you’ve never felt before. 

You moan at his touch, rolling your hips against his hand for more stimulation as he gently pumps his finger in and out of your cunt. He slides a second finger into you, and this time you feel the stretch when he pushes against your slick walls, but he takes his time with you, gently finger fucking you until the stretch doesn’t feel so bad anymore.

“Jean, please,” you whine as he sucks and bites on the skin of your neck. He scissors his fingers inside of you and you arch your back in response. “Jean, please!”

“Shh, relax,” he says, kissing you to muffle your moans as his fingers curl inside of you. The act of him shushing you has you clenching around his fingers and you can feel him smirking against your mouth. 

“I can’t fuck you until you’re nice and wet for me, so be a good girl and let me stretch you out, ok?”

He pulls away enough to look down at your face and you blink up at him with watery eyes. You nod in response, gasping and whining when his fingers curl again inside of you as he pulls more wetness against your lips. 

“Shh,” he says, and you squeeze hard around his fingers. “One more, ok?”

You nod frantically and feel as he presses another finger against your entrance. Using the built-up slick around your hole, he pushes himself into you and you throw back your head in pleasure from being filled by three of his thick fingers. 

“Good girl, you’re doing so well,” he whispers as he slowly begins to build speed with his hand. 

He fucks you with his fingers and you grind your hips down into him for stimulation on your clit against the heel of his hand. Jean grunts above you, face flushed in arousal as he watches you whimper and moan below him. You grab at his biceps, nails digging into his skin as he pumps his fingers into you. 

“Jean — feels good — so good,” you gasp as each pump sends shockwaves through your body. Your arousal is dripping down between your legs and onto the bed, coating his hand as he fucks you. 

“Trying to get you nice and ready for my cock,” he groans as you squeeze around him. “You’re so fucking tight — is Eren not treating you right? Not fucking you good?”

The mention of your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend’s name has you frowning. It's almost like Jean knows all of the intimate details of your sex life with Eren from the way he pushes your buttons. Doing things better than Eren does, making you feel good and hot and desperate for him in a way you've never felt with your boyfriend before.

“I bet he can’t make you cum like this, huh? Can’t make you gush and squeeze around his fingers like I can.” To punctuate his words he curls his fingers again inside of you and you cry out in pleasure. “I never hear you make these pretty little sounds when he’s fucking you.”

Your face burns in embarrassment but you can’t control the way your hips grind against his hand. You’re so close to unraveling again and Jean is taking his sweet time getting you there as he whispers into your ear. Belittling Eren with every breath while your head spins in arousal.

He presses his open mouth just under your jaw, licking and sucking the skin there as your hands tangle in his hair while he continues to taunt you. “I always hear you begging him to go harder, harder. Is that what you like? You like getting fucked hard?”

You can only whimper in response and Jean presses his thumb against your clit, using the built up slick to swirl circles around your swollen nub. With a cry of pleasure you arch up into his chest, digging your nails harder into his arms as he pushes you to the edge. 

“I’ll give it to you any way you want,” he says, panting. “I’ll fuck you so good, give this pretty little pussy what it deserves — make it mine.”

With a choked sob you come undone in his hands, trembling against his body to the cry of his name as your pussy flutters around his fingers. He groans in approval as you shake in his arms, pressing his mouth against yours to muffle your moans until your body is limp beneath him. 

He pulls away from the kiss, breathing hard as he looks down at your flushed, fucked out face with pride. Jean pulls his fingers from you with a wet sucking sound. He brings his slick fingers up to your mouth, pushing them past your lips until they rest on your tongue. You greedily lick and suck your arousal from his fingers as he lays, propped up on one elbow, above you. 

His body is tense and rigid as he looks down at you, aching and horny. “You ready to take my dick?” he asks, voice tight. 

Jean pulls his fingers from your mouth with a satisfying pop! so you can respond. “Yes, please, Jean! I need it,” you say, finally relaxing your grip on his biceps to wrap your arms around his neck. You pull his body flush against yours and let him devour you as he pushes his sweats and underwear off with one hand, kicking them off the bed. 

He settles himself between your legs and you feel a firm slap! on your stomach as his cock falls heavy on your skin. You blink down, eyes wide, taking in the length and girth of the cock on your stomach. 

“Holy shit,” you mumble, reaching a tentative hand out to stroke along his length. Your fingers hardly touch around his girth and Jean moans in approval as you stroke along his swollen, leaking cock. He’s already leaving a mess of precum on your stomach and you’ve hardly touched him. 

“You can take it.” Jean says as you bite your lip. He thrusts into your hand, his heavy, warm balls slapping gently against your dripping cunt with every shift of his hips. “I’m gonna fill you up so good,” he groans when your thumb slides across his tip, smearing his head with precum. “I’ll give it to you rough, just like you want it.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing at his words, the idea of having him — of having that — inside of you excites you. Could you take it? Just the thought of him pushed inside you to the hilt has you rolling your hips against his. 

“Look how deep I’ll be,” he says, slapping his dick against your stomach. “You look so fuckin small next to my dick like this.”

“Please, Jean — give it to me,” you beg. 

He smirks, leaning down to kiss your mouth roughly before sitting up on his knees between your legs. “Anything for my little princess.”

Jean spreads his thighs between your legs until he’s sitting on the bed, hooking each of your thighs over his legs and shifting your hips up until your pussy is smearing its wetness across the underside of his cock. He thrusts against you like this, coating himself in your arousal as you whine beneath him. 

You move to take off your bra but he stops you. “No, keep it on,” he says, snapping the waistband of your underwear against your skin. “You put this on to look pretty, didn’t you? Don’t take it off.”

You nod shyly as he pushes the crotch of your underwear deeper into the crease of your thigh so he can continue to smear your arousal across his length. 

He thrusts forward against the folds of your pussy, the head of his cock nudging your clit with every movement. The feeling of his hard, heavy dick against your skin has you biting your lip and whining under him impatiently, but he doesn’t stop. He slides his length along the built-up wetness until he’s coated in your slick. Jean wraps a hand around his cock and gently strokes it, coating it further in your arousal.

He tilts his hips back until the thick head of his cock is finally pressing against your entrance. “Wanna watch?” he asks, eyes darting up from where your two bodies meet to your flushed face. 

You bite your lip and nod, allowing him to sit up and tilt your hips until you have a good view of his glistening cockhead pressed against your entrance. His strong, large hands hold your hips up as he pushes his head past the tight ring of your pussy with a satisfied sigh. 

“Fuck,” you say together. The feeling of him finally pushing into you, after begging for it and craving it since you first felt him in the living room, has your head spinning.

The stretching he did with his fingers helps ease the feeling as he pushes into you, but you squirm nonetheless, watching him disappear inside of you. He looks up at your face briefly to gauge your reaction, and you’re laying there slack-jawed and breathless as he sinks into you.

He fills you in a way you've never felt before, pushing against your tight walls and stretching you to your limit. He's gentle with every movement as he watches your face, careful not to hurt you, but you're so fucked out from earlier that you can barely register anything but the feeling of him sinking into you.

Jean makes slow, shallow thrusts, each movement pushing him deeper and deeper inside of you. You watch as he pushes into you halfway, already feeling so full and stretched, but there’s still so much of him left to go. You already feel like you've taken all that you can as you squeeze and clench around him. The thought of him sheathing himself fully into you has you trembling in a mixture of anticipation and nervousness.

“Jean,” you whine, squirming. “I can’t — I can’t take it.”

“Yeah, you can,” he responds, voice low. “Your pussy is fucking squeezing and sucking me in, don’t give me that shit.” He shifts his hold on your hips until his arm is hooked around the back of your thigh, lifting you up until just your head and shoulders are pressed on the mattress. With his new grip, he’s able to wrap his hand around your body, laying his palm flat against your lower stomach and swirling your clit with his thumb. 

You suck in a sharp breath from the added stimulation. His nimble, skilled fingers almost pushing you to the edge as your pussy grips his cock. You want more, you need more, moremoremore.

“Is that better, princess?” he asks, spitting the word as he pulls his hips back. You can see his cock is coated in your milky, white arousal, “See that? Look how wet you are for me. You can take it.”

You whimper, biting your lip and moving your head in a few quick nods. “I can take it. I can take it.”

“Good girl,” he says, sinking back into you. 

You moan out in pleasure when he pushes in past the point you thought possible. You can hear him murmuring above you, “Good girl — such a sweet, tight, little pussy — take my fucking dick,” but you can hardly think as he fills you with his thick cock. 

“Just a bit more, come on,” he whispers before pushing himself fully inside of you with a deep, throaty moan. He pushes his hips flush against yours, thumb still swirling on your clit as you squeeze around his cock. 

Although it’s impossible, you feel like he’s going to come out your throat. You look up at his flushed face to see him grinning from ear to ear, so fucking proud of you for taking all of him. “Jean,” you gasp, breathless as you roll your hips against his, close already. 

He pulls back slowly and you watch the lips of your pussy clinging to his length as his glistening cock slides out of you. You feel empty and desperate as he pulls out until just the head of his cock is nestled inside of you. Seeing his full length like this, slick from your arousal after being buried inside of you, makes you whimper. 

“See? You pussy wants all of me, I told you.” 

Jean shifts his hold on you again, removing his hand from your stomach to press his palm against your lower back, holding you up as he leans on his forearm near your face. He cups your face with his hand, thumb brushing across your cheek and your lips and you let your mouth fall open to allow him to dip his thumb into your mouth. 

“You want it?”

“Jean, please.”

“Say it. Use your words, princess.”

“I want your cock, Jean — please, fuck me — I can take it,” your words come out like choked sobs as you roll your hips against him. 

His expression turns wolfish as he looks down at you, eyes half-lidded and dark, like you’re his prey to be devoured. His tone is sharp and commanding as he presses his thumb against your tongue, holding your mouth open. “I wanna hear you make all those pretty little sounds for me again. I want you to beg. I want you to scream my fucking name.”

All you can do is nod dumbly as he holds your mouth open, the head of his cock twitching inside of you as you clench around him from his words. “Good girl,” he growls, pulling his thumb from your mouth and plunging his full length inside of you. 

You cry out in pleasure as his thick cock pushes past the tight, swollen walls of your cunt until he’s fully sheathed inside of you. You try to turn your head away from Jean’s intense gaze but he holds you tightly around the chin, forcing you to look at him as he fucks you.  

“Say it.”

“Jean! — Feels so fucking good —“ you can hardly piece together sentences as his hips slam into yours. The room fills with the lewd wet sounds of your pussy gripping around his cock and the skin-on-skin slapping of bodies moving together. 

He grunts in approval above you, jaw tight as he watches your face contort in pleasure. Your pussy molds around every ridge and vein of his cock as he pushes inside of you, pounding against your sweet spot with every thrust until your toes are curling and your legs are wrapping around his waist. 

“So — s’fucking good, Jean — so fucking big — please, please, please,” you’re just babbling nonsense as his hips rut against yours, driving you closer and closer to having another orgasm with his cock buried inside of you. 

He shifts his grip again, settling your hips onto his thighs as he cages his arms around your head. “You like being stretched out by my cock like this? Filled to the fucking brim with dick?”

You can only whimper and moan in response, wrapping your arms around his back and digging your nails into his skin. “S’good — s’good!”

He laughs at your desperation, snapping his hips into yours and reveling in the way your eyes roll back into your head. “Jean — don’t stop — please, please,” you cry, feeling the coil tighten again in your core. You roll your hips up into his to match his every thrust, so desperate and needy for release. 

He shifts his weight to one arm, pushing your legs off from around him and pulling back until his dick leaves you completely. You whine pathetically in response, nails digging into his skin and hips bucking up to chase his dick. “Jean, no — no!”

With a devilish smirk he grips around the base of his cock, slapping it down against your clit with a wet smack! "See how good this pussy is for me, how wet it gets for me?" he asks, stroking your milky-white arousal all over his thick cock as he breathes down on you. 

All you can do is whine in response, squirming beneath him and grabbing hard at his shoulders. You try to pull him down onto you — into you — again, but he's stronger than you are and holds himself up and away from you easily. "See how fast you cum for me?" he growls, causing your pussy to clench around nothing.

You're so desperate to have him push you over the edge again, but he's just hovering over you with his dick in his hand. "Jean —" you gasp, nails digging into his skin, "Come on, please."

“Whose pussy is this?” he asks, tapping his cock against your clit repeatedly. This alone could send you over the edge, you think.

“Yours! Yours, Jean!”

“Yeah? And what does it want?”

“Wants to cum on your cock — please!”

“You ever get fucked this good before?”

You shake your head rapidly. “No, you’re the best — please, Jean, please! I need more, more, more — fuck me, please!”

Satisfied with your pathetic begging, he angles his hips to press his head against your entrance and pushes himself back into you. Your pussy is so wet and sloppy from being teased all morning, there’s no longer any resistance when he buries himself inside of you. 

“Ok, baby, I want you to cum hard for me,” he grunts, sliding a hand between your bodies to rub circles on your clit. “Make a mess all over my fucking cock.”

It only takes a few more thrusts before you give him what he wants. Your whole body trembles and shakes beneath him, pussy fluttering around the girth of his cock as you chant out his name in pleasure. Your eyes roll back into your head, toes curling, nails dragging against his skin as the coil inside of you snaps and you lose yourself in a mind shattering orgasm. 

Jean pants and moans above you as you squeeze around him, watching your face twist in pleasure from the feeling of his cock ramming inside of you. "You needed this, huh, princess? Needed my fat cock to fuck an orgasm outta you, huh?"

You babble incoherently beneath him, squirming and twitching and squeezing him with your whole body as your pussy gushes around his length. You've never been fucked like this before: so hard, so deep. You're drunk on the feeling of him pushing inside of you and coaxing out wave after wave of pleasure.

“Fuck,” he growls, hips stuttering against you, “I’m gonna cum.” He shifts his grip on your body until both hands are grabbing your ass, spreading you open and fucking you deeper than you ever imagined possible.

You can’t even form words through your pleasure, just pathetic gasps and moans as you squeeze around him. You pull his hips in tighter with your legs and dig your nails into his back. 

“What do you want, baby? Use your words,” he says, voice tight and breathless as he fucks you. His body is so tense and tight above you, you know he’s close.

“I want your cum, Jean,” you whimper, tears rolling down your face from the overwhelming pleasure of his cock ramming into you. “Fill me up — please!”

You can’t tell if this is another orgasm or the same one from before as the waves overcome you. You cry out desperately, body tensing around his. There’s urgency in his thrusts and the way his fingers grip your ass, his balls slapping against you each time he bottoms out inside of you.

He groans, head falling against your forehead as he fucks into you. “Gonna fill this pussy with my cum — make a mess of your sloppy fucking cunt — you want that?”

“Yes!” you cry and he moans in approval, finally letting himself go as his cock twitches inside of you and he empties his balls into you. The walls of your pussy still pulse and squeeze around his dick, milking every drop of his hot, thick cum as it shoots inside of you. 

He keeps fucking into you until your body relaxes against him, every thrust causing the mix of your release to spill out from inside you, coating his balls and your ass with the sticky mixture. The sounds of your bodies moving together is obscene as your pussy grips around his messy, wet cock.

Jean keeps his head pressed against your forehead as the two of you struggle to catch your breath, finally stilling with his hips flush against you. You lay like that for what feels like hours, until he shifts his hips back and pulls his now-softening cock from inside of you with a shuddering breath, collapsing on the bed next to you. 

You’re still breathing hard, legs fallen open with cum leaking down your ass when he reaches over to you. He hooks his fingers under the crotch of your underwear and slides the cold, sticky material back over your swollen pussy, giving it a soft tap after covering it. 

You can help but giggle from his actions and you roll your head to the side to meet his gaze. Jean’s body is glistening with sweat, strands of his hair have fallen into his eyes while the hair on the nape of his neck clings to his skin. His lips are swollen, his face is flushed, and you can see the faintest hint of a hickey on his shoulder from where you bit him. 

He smiles lazily over at you and pushes his hair back with a shaky hand. “Was that good?” he asks, suddenly acting shy after all of the nasty things he did and said to you. 

“Really good,” you say, swallowing to coat your dry throat.

“Sorry about… all the shit I said. I just got carried away.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say quickly. “It was hot.”

"Nasty freak," he teases, smirking as you bury your face in your hands.

You whine in embarrassment, rolling over onto your side and into Jean’s chest. He rests his hand on your back and pulls you close into him, lips pressing softly against your neck.

“I’ve never cum like that before,” you say quietly into his skin, face burning.

He laughs and the deep vibrations in his chest warm your heart. “Yeah, I know,” he says, rubbing circles into your back. “I’ve never heard you beg like that before.”

”Oh my god!” you squeal, pushing away from him. “Jean!”

He laughs but his face is tinged pink in embarrassment. “What? I’m just saying.”

Suddenly, there’s a pounding on Jean’s bedroom door and it’s so loud and violent that it shakes the wood.

“Jean! Open the fucking door!” It’s Eren. 

Your whole body breaks into a cold sweat as you and Jean stare at each other wide wide eyes. 

“One sec!” he yells, scrambling out of bed. He quickly pulls on his discarded sweatpants and tries to smooth down his hair as you hide and cower under the blankets of his bed. 

You watch Jean take a few calming breaths, wiping his hand across his mouth and chin to wipe off what remains of your wetness on his face before opening the door, just enough to peek through, but not enough for Eren to see you laying in his bed. 

“What the fuck do you want?” Jean whispers but his tone is sharp. 

“Who the hell do you have in there?” You can see him bobbing on the other side of Jean, trying to look past him into the bedroom, but Jean is taller than Eren and can block his view with his broad shoulders. Jean moves to close the door, annoyed by Eren’s nosiness and afraid of his reaction on seeing you in Jean’s bed. 

Eren holds up a fist to hold the door open with a loud slam! and you feel your heart jump into your throat. Does he know? Is he going to barge in?

But instead, Eren laughs. “Whatever, doesn’t matter. Hey, I need your keys. My hockey shit is in your car and I’m gonna head to the rink for some drills.”

“My keys are on the fucking hook next to the door, like they always are. Why the fuck are you bothering me? I’m busy.”

“Yeah, I‘ve been stuck listening to you for the past twenty minutes. Give me a heads up before you bring some girl over next time.”

“Why the fuck do I have to give you a heads up? You weren’t even home!”

Jean’s body relaxes from his tense, nervous guilt, to general annoyance as he bickers with Eren. You tune out their conversation but stay hidden in the blankets, just in case Eren decides to barge in. 

Twenty minutes? What did Eren hear? You feel your heart clenching in your chest from fear and guilt as the two boys talk outside. Jean is doing his best to get Eren to just fucking leave, but Eren seems hellbent on having a conversation with him.

You tune back in, however, when you hear Eren mention your name. 

“Did she stop by this morning?”

“I thought you were with her last night,” Jean says, voice tight. 

“Nah, we got in a fight so I left to go fuck Hitch.”

“That’s fucked up, man.”

“Whatever. She usually comes by in the morning to grovel and I thought I saw her car parked down the street—“

“Haven’t seen her,” Jean insists as he starts to close his bedroom door again, this time Eren moves his hand down to let him. “Leave me the fuck alone already. Go to the gym! I’ve got a girl waiting for me in here.” He gestures vaguely behind him and you can hear Eren’s footsteps as he walks away. 

“Have fun!” he calls and Jean shuts the door. 

Jean releases a long, calming breath, holding the door shut with his palm before turning to face you. 

“That was close,” he whispers, walking back to the bed and curling up under the blankets with you. 

“Yeah,” you respond, but your voice is tight in an effort to hold back your tears. You’re not sure if it’s from the guilt of cheating on Eren, the fear of almost getting caught, or the heart-wrenching sadness of hearing Eren admit that he’s cheating on you. 

Although, the confirmation makes you feel a little bit better about letting your boyfriend’s roommate cum inside of you. 

“Hey, are you ok?” Jean leans forward to cup your face with his hands, brushing his thumbs across your cheek as you close your eyes. “I told you that guy was a piece of shit. Don’t let him get to you.”

“I know,” you say, but your voice shakes. You’re grateful for Jean’s warm, comforting hands on your face and you bring your hands up to cover his. Your eyes flutter open to see him staring intently at you, brows furrowed into his signature concerned stare. “I should go.”

“No, not yet,” he says quickly. “Wait a bit until you know for sure he’s gone.”

You give a small nod, restricted by Jean’s hands on your face. He trails his hands from your face down to your neck, over your shoulders and down to your elbows, before shifting them to your waist. You let him pull you into his lap again, just like earlier on the couch, and you nuzzle your face into his neck as his arms wrap around you. 

Jean holds you in his arms for as long as it takes for the tightness in your chest to go away. When you finally pull away from his neck to look down at his face, his expression is soft and caring. 

“Break up with him,” he says, fingers digging into the soft skin on your waist. “You deserve so much better than that.”

“I know,” you say with a nod. “It’s just tough because… I think I love him.”

Jean’s expression turns from soft to pained at your words. “Fuck, eh?”

You nod with a sad smile. “I haven’t told him yet… I can’t because we keep getting into fights, but…” you trail off, avoiding Jean’s gaze as he looks at you. 

“I don’t mean to sound like an asshole, but it doesn’t seem like he loves you, based on how he treats you.”

“You sound like an asshole,” you say quietly, laughing through your nose. 

“I guess I’m an asshole then,” he says, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist to pull you close into his chest. “At least I can admit it.”

“How noble of you.”

“It is, thank you.”

“If only everyone had the same humility and self awareness that you do.”

“Maybe then world peace would be possible.”

The two of you laugh together and you let your fingers play with the hair on the nape of his neck, curling the strands around your fingers and tugging gently. 

“Easy,” he says, voice low. “You’re gonna get me worked up again.”

“Again?”

“Well, yeah —“ he says, smirking. “A hot girl in a sexy little outfit, sitting on my lap and pulling my hair? How could I not?”

You hold a hand over your mouth to hide your smile, body burning in embarrassment as his hands slide up your waist to cup your breasts through your bra. 

You like your banter with Jean. You like the way his hands feel on your skin and his citrus cologne. You like the way he looks at you and the way his eyes darken when you roll your hips against his. 

“I should go,” you say quietly, eyes darting down to his already parted lips. 

“Why?” he rolls his tongue across his lower lip, moistening it. “Eren’s leaving, he won’t be home for a while.”

You lower your hand from in front of your face to rest on Jean’s shoulder, thumbing the mark you left on him earlier. “You’re right,” you say, leaning forward to kiss him. 

* * *

“One sec, Connie, someone’s fucking beating on the door right now,” Jean says before removing his headphones and setting them on his desk. Annoyed at being interrupted from his game, he stomps down the hall to the front door, where someone has been pounding against it for the past five minutes, at least. 

He swings the door open, fuming, to see you standing on the doorstep. You’re wearing a cute little dress and your eyes are red, nose runny. Jean frowns down at you, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorframe with a sigh. 

“He’s not here.”

“I know,” you say, fiddling with your hands as your eyes fall from Jean’s face to the floor.

“Oh?”

You don’t respond right away, rocking back and forth on your heels before looking up at Jean through your lashes. “Can I come in?”

Jean is genuinely annoyed at being interrupted from his game, but he regards your dress carefully and lets his mind wander to what you might have on underneath. 

Because that’s why you’re here, right? You know Eren’s not home, so you must be here for Jean. 

He steps aside to make room for you to enter the apartment and although there’s space, you brush your body against him when you walk in. Jean feels his breath catch in his throat as he closes the door behind you, watching you bend down to unclasp your heels from around your ankles. 

Jean stands tense next to you, hands clenched into fists at his sides. He doesn’t want to be presumptuous, so he gives you space and waits to hear what you have to say. 

“I wanted to thank you for your advice the other day,” you say, brushing your hair away from your face as you look up at him. “I did it. I broke up with Eren.”

“I thought you were in love with him.”

You shrug sheepishly. “No… I don’t know… He’s my first boyfriend, I think I just thought… I don’t know.”

“Is that why you know he’s not here?”

You nod in response, smiling up at Jean. 

“So, why are you here, then?”

He needs to hear you say it. To say that you want him. Even though it’s painted all over your face from the way your eyes have been scanning down his body during the entire conversation.

Your smile turns devilish as you look up at him but you don’t say anything. He watches as your eyes dart from his eyes to his mouth, lingering there for a moment before returning to his gaze. 

He rolls his tongue against his cheek, quirking up a brow. “Well?”

“I came to see you, Jean.”

”What for?” He needs to be certain. What if you’re just here to grab your stuff?

“You’re the only guy who can satisfy me, Jean,” you say, dramatically, leaning forward to press your hands against his chest. 

You’re making fun of him, but Jean doesn’t care, your words are like music to his ears, drowned out only by the pounding of his heartbeat. “Yeah?”

You nod, pressing yourself up on your toes to get closer to his face, but he’s still so tall. He rests his hands on your hips and you practically melt forward into him. 

“Come on,” you say, voice low and sultry. “Don’t make me beg.”

“But that’s my favourite part,” he admits before leaning down to capture your lips in a harsh, open-mouthed kiss. 

Jean likes your banter with him. He likes the way your soft skin feels under his touch and the way you breathe into his neck when he holds you. He likes the way you fall into him and the way your eyes light up when he looks down at you. 

He knows this is a bad idea — that it was a bad idea in the first place. Eren is going to deck him when he finds out Jean’s hooking up with his ex-girlfriend. 

But right now, when you’re moaning into his mouth as he slides his tongue against yours, he really doesn’t give a fuck.