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piichuu · 6 months

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♡ DODGING HIS KISSES

FEATURING: levi ackerman, reiner braun, jean kirschtein, erwin smith, eren yeager

WARNINGS: fluff because it’s needed, gn!reader

LEVI ACKERMAN

waking up beside you is levi ackerman’s favorite part of the day, especially if he’s gotten more hours of sleep than he usually does. it is mostly thanks to the amount of hours you’ve spent talking to him at night about anything and everything that causes his sleep schedule to better, so when he the day after gets to see your face, he can’t help but light up in a smile.

others might see him as this stone cold man with no feelings, but his heart is beating loud and clear in his chest, pumping blood for him to function. the many comrades he’s lost is the reason to his difficulties sleeping, the pictures of their dead bodies in his mind are constantly on replay and some nights, a few tears might fall from his eyes.

but now he gets to look at you after sleeping for more than seven hours, a record he’s broken after years of insomnia. his fingers trace over your cheeks while the corners of your lips curl up into a light smile.

your eyes are now halfway open while looking at him. his face is only a few millimeters away from yours, but his dark eyes immediately hinder you from hitting the man who is staring at you and probably has for a good while now. “good morning, levi,” you whisper as his lips inches closer to yours, but as he goes in for it, they’re instead met by nothing as you’ve started moving around to rest your head on his chest.

levi looks down at you with a raised brow, how come you suddenly didn’t want to kiss him? but instead of thinking about it any further, he once again leans in to kiss your lips, and this time you respond. it brings relief to his heart when your lips dance with his for a couple of seconds before he pulls away. “i hope you didn’t mean to dodge my kiss the first time,” he mutters, receiving a pair of wide eyes from you. “guess you didn’t even notice,” he chuckles.

REINER BRAUN

the night is cold as you and reiner are cuddled up in bed. his arms are tightly wrapped around your waist while your face is buried in the crook of his neck, but that is still not enough to bring the two of you warmth. the heater has been broken since weeks back, so reiner has been your personal heater for a good while now.

“should i grab more blankets? i think we have a few more in the living room,” he mumbles while one of his hands stroke your hair. his breath is hot against your cheek as you shake your head, moving away from his neck to look at him. “no, we’ll just get more cold if you leave, please stay,” you whisper, pulling him as close as you possibly can, almost to the point as to where you are melting into one another.

reiner chuckles lightly and leans down to press a kiss to your lips, but you lean back, away from him. “my lips are chapped,” you speak and even if reiner’s heart almost stopped beating in his chest at the sight of you rejecting his kiss, he now only shakes his head, letting out a quiet laugh.

“you know i’ve never cared about your lips being chapped, baby. mine are too when it’s this cold, but if you don’t want to kiss me, that’s okay,” he smiles gently. he’s too nice for his own good, but that is also what caused you to fall in love with him in the first place, so you reflect his smile and give his lips a quick kiss. “of course i want to kiss you, just don’t want to give you a bad experience.”

he rubs your cheek with the pad of his thumb and leans his forehead against yours. “you could never give me a bad experience. come on, move a little closer, i’m getting cold again.”

JEAN KIRSCHTEIN

after a long day away at work, all jean wants to do is putting his arms around your waist while holding you close to his chest. so when he sees you sleeping on the couch, the corners of his lips turn into a slight smile, seeing you all curled up in a blanket on the couch.

a pout does however spread over his lips when he thinks about it a little more clearly. you have most likely been up, waiting for his arrival until you were so exhausted that your eyes couldn’t stay open any longer. “have told you so many times not to wait for me, baby,” he mumbles as his feet lead him into the living room and towards the couch.

he doesn’t bother carrying you to bed, the couch is big enough for the two of you. so jean lies down behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle so he can do just what he’s been looking forward to all day, hugging you. fortunately for him, you don’t awake, only snoring slightly louder as you’re in his embrace.

“i’ve missed you so much today, took the day off so we can hang out all day tomorrow,” jean whispers as he rubs your hip. “we can go back to the bed tomorrow to cuddle some more there, but let’s just stay here for now. i just wanna hold you close for a while.”

he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek, but you turn slightly in your sleep as if you were avoiding his lips, but jean just lets out a chuckle, knowing you’re asleep and not aware of your surroundings. “i’ll kiss you tomorrow instead, look forward to it.”

ERWIN SMITH

erwin has a habit of always drinking a glass of whiskey while focusing on paper work. he does however never lock his door, even if he’s aware of the fact that you might come inside just to try and get him to spend some lost time with you.

as you now enter his small office, he finally looks up from his desk and flashes you a sweet smile. his cheeks have turned slightly pink from the few glasses of whiskey he’s been drinking, but it is still not enough to make him tipsy. “hello, my love. are you doing okay?” he allows you to sit down on the chair besides his that he’s put there just in case you want to check on what he’s doing.

you lean your head on his shoulder and sigh. “i had a tiring day at work, but i’m happy to be home,” you mutter as one of his arms wrap around your waist and just as he’s about to lean down to place a kiss to your lips, you’re quick to turn the other way. “you smell like whiskey,” erwin chuckles at that and ruffles your hair. “i don’t believe it’s that bad.”

he presses a kiss to your cheek instead before resting his head on yours, finally taking a break from paper work. “i’ll go brush my teeth so we can kiss for a little while, does that sound good?” you nod and kiss his cheek, giving him a soft smile as the two of you walk to the bathroom together for him to freshen up his breath.

EREN YEAGER

the two of you are in the bath together after a long day at work. both of your bodies are sore and heads exploded, so a warm bath was just what you both needed in the evening. his chest is warm against your back while your head is resting on his shoulder. eren also has an arm around your middle to pull you closer and make sure you won’t slip underneath the water due to your exhaustion.

“maybe we should go sleep after this,” eren mumbles as his lips brush against your temple. your eyes are already closed as you’re loosely holding onto his arm. “mhm,” is all you succeed to get out, sleep wanting to take over as soon as possible no matter how much you try to fight it.

he rubs your waist gently and is about to give your lips a kiss, but just as he does that, you move your head slightly so his lips instead meet your cheek. “hm?” he looks down at you with a raised brow, but that is until he notices your heavy breathing and how you grow limp in his hold.

“oh, you’re asleep,” eren nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and sighs. “how am i gonna get you out of the bath now?” he mutters as his grip on you tightens. but eren does however decide to stay in the bath for a little while longer before he’ll have to wake you up. perhaps he’ll receive a kiss or two while carrying you back to bed.

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3K notes · View notes

jeansplaytoy · 7 months

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aot guys reacting to you posting ‘single’ right after a breakup.

Ony

Eren

Armin

Jean

2K notes · View notes

theragethatisdesire · 11 months

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pretty girl - jean kirschtein x afab!reader - 18+!!!

there's def more eren coming but while that's in the works please enjoy the result of the jean brainrot i experienced the other day. fair warning- it's going to get pretty rough, but that's what you asked him for ;)

pairing: reader x jean kirschtein

wc: 4.6k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, established relationship (jean's ur gorgeous bf lucky u), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, pretty rough sex, vaginal fingering, biting, dirty talk, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, daddy kink, use of names (pretty girl, crybaby, good girl), very dom jean, multiple orgasm, dacryphilia/crying, creampie

this one was super fun and is very tasty u guys enjoy <3

-> be there in 5 babe :)

You are not looking forward to this, to say the least. You pace madly around your little apartment in a massive t-shirt and sweatpants covering the skimpiest lingerie set you own. It’s got all the bells and whistles: a matching garter belt, lace in all the right places, stockings that come up to where your plush thighs are the fattest. You should be looking forward to this, you tell yourself, candles lit and ambient lighting ready to go. You have a gorgeous boyfriend who’s going to “be here in five”, and you should be brimming with excitement. But…you’re just not.

Jean’s been in your life for a few months now. What had started as a run-in at the coffee shop around the corner had turned into candlelit dinners, movie marathons, and exclusive titles, and you adore him. His sandy brown hair, the tattoo on his strong bicep, pretty hazel eyes– Jean’s sexy, loving, sarcastic, attentive, literally everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. Except when it comes to your sex life, that is.

The sex isn’t bad per se, you just can’t shake the feeling that he’s holding something back from you. He’s almost too perfect; he’s gentle with you, always taking care to ask permission before touching you, chaste kisses as he slides in, hand-holding in missionary. He cums every time, immune to the whiskey-dick you’d expect from his bourbon drinking habit, so you know he’s enjoying himself, but he doesn’t always seem all there. The fire just isn’t in him, and you know he has that side to him. You’ve seen those hazel eyes you love so much blaze, in a heated argument, at the gym. Why it doesn’t happen in your intimate moments is beyond you, it’s like he’s afraid to break you, like he’s not doing everything–

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Shit, knocking on your front door is what he’s doing.

You take one last look in the mirror: hair’s casual, but still sexy, makeup to a minimum, all straps and lace covered up by your inconspicuous pajamas. Time to potentially ruin your relationship.

“Hey beautiful,” Jean greets you with an innocent smile, “you look cozy.”

“Feel cozy,” you accept his kiss, chewing on your lip as he comes in. Your heart’s pounding in your ears; poor thing has no idea what’s to come. Maybe it’ll go well, you think; false hope might be the only thing that gets you to pull through with your plan.

“Have any movie ideas for tonight? I was thinking Hereditary, but only if you’re not too chicken…” Jean raises his eyebrows, a taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Ha! If only he knew all of the things you aren’t “too chicken” for.

You smile weakly, stomach churning. “Maybe. Can we just…can we just talk for a sec?”

Jean’s playful demeanor drops instantly, replaced by a faint frown. “What about?”

You amble over to the couch, playing with the strings of your sweatpants anxiously. How the fuck are you even supposed to bring this up? Your mind’s racing so quickly it draws a blank, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt: “Sex.”

“Sex?” Jean’s cheeks tinge pink. He hasn’t shaved in probably a week, a shadow covering his sharp jawline. God, he’s gorgeous, you can’t mess this up, you really can’t.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “sex. Our sex, to be clear.”

“I figured as much,” Jean’s sat himself beside you now, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. He’s not upset, not yet, but you’ve definitely caught him off guard.

“I– I feel like we’re on different pages,” you stammer– fuck you are so bad at this, “I just feel like sometimes you’re so…gentle, and you don’t necessarily, like, have to be?”

Jean’s frowning full on now, a precious little wrinkle appearing in the center of his forehead. You’ve hurt him, and your heart sinks. Probably should have started with the pros. “Like…what do you mean, by ‘don’t have to be gentle’?”

“Our sex life is great,” you try to smile enthusiastically, as if you don’t actually want to blow your brains out right now, “please don’t think I’m saying you’re bad in bed or anything. I just, like– okay, for example, have you ever tried anything rough?”

His mouth is a flat line. “Like what?”

“Like, handcuffs, or roleplay, any of that stuff.”

“What have you tried?” His voice is even, collected, but there’s something simmering in him that you can’t put your finger on. It’s not anger, but it tastes similar, running in the same vein but not quite there. It’s your turn to feel your face warm.

“I mean, I’ve tried handcuffs before. Some light slapping, spanking.” You’re twiddling your thumbs, confessing into your lap. You can feel his eyes on you.

“That it?”

“I guess.”

“Did you…enjoy that kind of stuff?” He’s taking the bait. You finally meet his gaze and it ignites a little fire in your stomach; he’s never looked at you this intensely, brows pinched together like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to figure out. All of these little mannerisms are tells, you’re intuitive enough to know that, but exactly what he’s trying to convey you just can’t figure out.

“Yeah.”

“How rough are we talking, here?” Jean sounds deeper than normal, the slightest bit of strain to his words. That’s definitely new; Jean’s the most unshakeable person you’ve ever met.

“If I’m making you uncomfortable, I–”

“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” an easy chuckle floats out of his mouth, “just trying to feel you out is all.”

Your brows furrow. “Feel me out?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Surprised?” Your nose wrinkles. “Did I ever give off the impression that I was, like, super vanilla or something?”

“No,” he laughs again, a bit of the tension melting from the room, “no, not that. We’re just still pretty new, that’s all. Wasn’t going to whip out everything in my toolbox ‘til I knew you were okay with it.”

That piques your interest; you think you’d very much like to see what’s in this toolbox of his. “So you do like some of this stuff?”

Jean rolls that thought over in his mind for a beat before responding, a suspicious smirk that you can’t read tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I guess you could say I like some of this stuff.”

“We’re back to my original question then: what do you like?”

“I’m more worried about what you like,” Jean says, “especially since you won’t come right out and say it. Gonna make me guess?”

That’s your Jean, blunt as ever. The fire in your stomach sparks and spits at the conversation, teasing and tempting. There’s something playful to his words; you can’t shake this feeling that you’re missing something, that he’s toying with you, but you like it. You let him keep pushing, see where he’s leading you. “Sure, guess.”

“Do you like…” Jean trails off, examining you with his chin nestled between his thumb and index finger, “to be dominant?”

“No.”

“Submissive, then.”

“Yeah.” He likes that, you can tell by the way his eyes glint at you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“Like to be tied up?”

“Already told you about the handcuffs.”

“I bet you have a praise kink.”

That has you flustered. There’s a sinking sensation in your stomach that you’ve underestimated him, waded out too deep into the water, but fuck it, you’re already here. “How’d you know?”

Jean smiles, pleased. “I just do. Overstimulation?”

“Sure.”

“Orgasm denial? Degradation?”

“If I deserve it.” It’s a bold answer, but it makes Jean suck in a sharp “fuck” between his teeth. Oh yes, you’ve definitely underestimated him.

“You like to be punished, don’t you?” His hand has traveled up to cup your jaw, thumb playing absentmindedly with your bottom lip. There’s an anticipatory warmth gathering between your legs, and the air between you both is practically crackling, charged by the tension thrumming through both of your bodies.

“Yes,” it comes out in a breath, almost pathetic, but you can’t help yourself. He looks so good, always does, and now he’s grazing his eyes over you like he wants to take a bite.

“You know how safewords work?” You nod a bit too eagerly. “Ours is going to be red, okay?”

“Okay,” you’re agreeing, but you aren’t entirely sure what to, caught up in the soft rubbing of his thumb over your mouth.

“If your mouth is,” a deep breath shakes through his frame, “occupied, give me a sharp pinch with your nails.”

“I can do that,” the tension between you is palpable now, the room’s so hot that you’re surprised your wallpaper isn’t peeling off.

“Go to your room,” Jean releases you, eyes dark and hungry, “take your clothes off and wait for me on the bed. I’ll be in soon.”

You follow his instructions without thinking twice, as if a switch has flipped in your brain. Maybe it was his tone, an authoritative way of speaking that threatens consequence, or maybe you’re just so ready to see what this perfect boyfriend of yours has been hiding all this time. As you’re getting undressed, you realize he still doesn't know about your lingerie. You bite back a smile, kneeling on the bed. This is going to be so good.

A minute or so ticks by slowly, and just when your legs are starting to ache, Jean’s entering your room. His face darkens in a way you’ve never seen before when he sees your little get up; lightning shoots through your core.

“Put on a pretty outfit just for me?”

“Mhm,” you hum.

“That’s good,” he says in that slow drawl of his, “good girl.”

He’s only testing the waters, but you can feel your body viscerally react to the little pet name, shifting on your knees to mask your desperate attempt for friction, dampness spreading in your panties. Jean sees right through your act, smirking.

Jean joins you in undressing, slipping his shirt over his head. You take your time admiring his torso; miles of long, lean muscle, little ripples by his ribs trailing into a ridiculous six-pack. Jean’s a confessed gym rat, and it shows in every little line along his body. You have to blink and look away before you start salivating.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jean scolds, tilting your head up towards him, “eyes on me, got it?”

“Got it,” you answer. Jean frowns.

“That’s not very nice,” he says, “try again.”

You go out on a limb. “Yes, sir.”

Jean’s eyes glint again in that mean, pretty way you saw earlier. You did good, you did good for him. “Much better. Get on the floor.”

You slide off of your mattress, practically buzzing with anticipation, settling on your knees in front of him. A low groan rumbles in Jean’s chest.

“Look so good like that, my pretty girl.”

Oh, you really like that, nuzzling against his hand on your head. Jean smiles down at you, inching his pants down until that little thatch of brown hair starts revealing itself. “Open up for me, nice and wide.”

Your jaw’s dropped, mouth open and tongue out, expectant. Jean smiles wider, sharp and dangerous, pulling his cock out for you. He taps the head against your tongue a few times, even slaps you with it, facade faltering for a fraction of a second to gauge your reaction. You’re good for him, sitting still and patient with your mouth still open, a drop of drool starting to slide off the end of your tongue. Jean makes a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a chuckle.

“Oh, you’re an obedient little thing, aren’t you?” Your panties grow impossibly wetter, you wiggle on your thighs under him, earning yourself another slap of his cock on your tongue, heavy and drooling. “Gonna fuck this pretty face, okay?”

You close your mouth around his head, sucking lightly to show your approval. He’s not even touched you, not so much as a kiss, and your brain’s foggy, running like a hamster on a wheel chasing the circular thought of be good, be good, be good. Jean grabs your hair none-too-gently, tugging it at the roots, and starts canting his hips towards your mouth, muttering under his breath about how good you are, how good your mouth feels on him.

You lower your jaw ever so slightly, and before long, Jean’s picking up speed, knocking your gag reflex here and there and making you cough around him. He doesn’t seem overly concerned; in fact, he grins cruelly down at you when he hits an extra-sensitive spot, making you hunch and gag on him.

“Look at my pretty girl, so happy getting her mouth fucked,” he hisses when you moan around him, feeling the vibrations up his cock. He’s moving faster now, rougher than he’s ever been. You’re gagging with some regularity, tears welling up in your eyes and threatening to spill down your cheeks. You expect him to let up, give you some air, but it only spurs him on, and before you know it, there are thick streams of tears running down your face. Your jaw aches, your knees burn, but you stay, letting him use you how he pleases.

“Fucking crying on me,” Jean growls, “my cock too much for you?”

You try to answer with a shake of your head, but he’s relentless, fingers tightening in your hair and cock shoving to the back of your throat, making you retch.

“No, you love it, don’t you? My little crybaby.”

You’re so wet you can feel it gathering on the insides of your thighs, entirely soaked through your panties. You move your hips subtly, this way and that, desperate for friction. Jean notices, pulling out of your mouth but staying connected by a string of your spit.

“You squirming, pretty girl? Need some attention?”

“Yes, sir,” you rasp, nodding eagerly. Jean helps you up onto the bed, lays you back against his chest facing the mirror on top of your wardrobe. It’s a terribly lewd sight; you spread out in front of him, face swollen and teary, the telltale glisten of wetness glittering on your thighs.

Jean slides a hand down your body, rubbing you over your panties and nibbling at your ear. “You’re gonna watch me make you cum, and if I see you look away, I’m fucking you ‘til I cum, and you’re not getting a damn thing. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” your voice wobbles pathetically. Jean seems to like it; his cock twitches in interest against your back. He pushes your panties to the side, flicking his fingers faster over your clit. Embarrassingly enough, you’re already nearing your halfway point from the face-fucking, moaning and grinding up into his palm.

“Need something?”

“Mhm,” you grit out, jaw clenched. Jean slaps your pussy; not too hard, but firm enough to make you jolt, bring you a moment of clarity.

“Manners,” he reminds you sharply.

“I’m sorry, I– can I please have a finger?”

Jean’s placated, slides one finger into you and laughs hot against your neck at the obscene sound that tears from your throat. “What do we say when we get what we ask for?”

“Thank you– fuck, thank you,” your words are coming out in puffs of breathe. Jean has long, skilled fingers, a fact you’re already familiar with, but the position he’s put you in has you dripping onto the sheets: forcing you to watch as he pumps in and out of you, grinding into your clit with the heel of his hand. You’ll be lucky if you last another minute.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? My pretty girl likes being full, right?” Jean murmurs, hot against the shell of your ear. “Tell me.”

“Yes, sir, I– I like it, I need– fuck!”

“What do you need?” Jean coos, entertained, as if he’s not unraveling you with just the one.

“I want one m-more finger, please,” you stutter, relieved you’re able to get the words out at all.

“Learning so fast,” Jean kisses your shoulder, granting your wish. His fingers are thick, the slight stretch making you throw your head back against his shoulder, hips rolling into his hand of their own accord. “Still looking?”

You force your head back to its upright position, mindful of the threat in his tone. His fingers work faster at your obedience, curling insistently against the gummy spot inside your walls that makes you see stars, makes you a little out of your mind with need. It’s that out-of-mind dizziness in your head that causes your little slip-up:

“Fuck, please, more- more, Daddy.”

Jean’s fingers still; it’s not until you’re halfway into a whine of disappointment that you realize what you’ve said. Your face burns; you meet his eyes in the mirror, yours shot wide and embarrassed. You trip over your words, trying to explain yourself. That definitely hadn’t been mentioned in your earlier conversation.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, I just–”

“Just what? Already so fucked out you can’t think straight?” Jean curls his fingers pointedly against your walls, punching a groan from your chest.

“Yeah,” you sigh, head growing cloudy again.

“Say it again.” That definitely isn’t what you expect to hear him mutter against your neck. Jean works a third finger into your cunt with some difficulty, stretching you to your limits. “Fucking say it, or you’re not cumming.”

“Oh my God, D-Daddy,” your cries are pathetic, punctuated by whimpers. The bubble in your stomach is about to pop, the tension growing unbearable. You’re almost there, grinding into his hand pitifully and babbling, when Jean takes one of his hands to grab your throat roughly. He holds you captive, staring at your own stretched cunt on display for you in the mirror.

“Good, good girl,” he says, “now watch Daddy make you cum.”

The band inside you snaps viciously; your back arches away from him, and you squirt, gushing all over your bed sheets, inhuman sounds tearing from your throat where you struggle under his hand. Jean’s working you through the whole thing, still steadily pumping his fingers and whispering dirty little nothings into your ear. It finally begins to quiet, overstimulation washing over you. You push urgently at his wrist, mumbling something or other about “too much, too much”.

Jean mercifully obliges, pulling his hand from you with a shameful sucking sound, giving your pussy another light slap.

“Such a good girl for me, yeah? How you feelin’?”

“Good, so good,” you slur, “I’ve never– never…”

“Never squirted?” Jean’s eyebrows shoot up at your answering nod before a smug expression settles over his face. “Such a fun little toy, aren’t you? Just wait, you’ll get used to it soon enough.”

Your cunt clenches around nothing; so he can make you do that? Again? Jean’s slid out from behind you and is repositioning your limp body, dragging you down the bed by your ankles to line you up with his cock. He bends your knees up, pressing them close to your head. Jesus, he’s going to kill you at this rate.

“Want me to fuck you?”

“Please,” you hate the begging lilt to your voice, but you’re beyond fighting it. You gave up the reins a long time ago when you knelt for him, let him call you a good girl, let him fuck your throat.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl, Daddy’s gotcha,” Jean starts bullying his way into your pussy, still tight and pulsing from your orgasm. “Shit, got a tight little cunt, don’t you? Feels so good– fuck.”

You’re simpering under him, barely able to process the stretch of his cock in you. He’s well-endowed and you’re overwhelmed, a dizzying combination for your fucked-out brain to handle. Just when you think he might be in your throat he’s so deep in you, his hips press to the back of your thighs, both of you letting out a long groan at the feeling.

“So pretty,” Jean muses, not moving yet, just placing a thumb on your clit and absentmindedly playing with it, “such a beautiful pussy.”

You whine, frustrated. He glares at you, landing a harsh smack to your inner thigh.

“I’m not going to warn you again.”

“Please fuck me, oh God, please,” you pant, past the point of humility. Jean licks his lips, presses his palms deep into the backs of your knees, practically folding you in half. He gives you what you ask for.

You’re jolted back and forth on the mattress, mouth hung open in a silent scream as he splits you open on him, forces every inch deep into you. His tip’s kissing your cervix, pain blooming in your abdomen, but you don’t even care, so lost in the rhythm of his hips.

“Jean, I– oh my God,” you try to tell him how good he feels, but all you get is a firm hand around your throat.

“Who’s fucking this pretty cunt up, hm? Fucking you good and deep? Who is it?”

“Daddy,” you choke out, breathless, “Daddy’s.”

“There you go,” Jean’s focused on where you’re connected, eyes never leaving the frothy white ring forming around the base of his cock. You’re crying again, vaguely aware of the streams of tears running down your temples, into your hairline, but fuck, he just feels so good your brain can’t even process it. Jean takes notice, wipes one of your tears and licks it off of his thumb. “Cute fucking crybaby, all happy and cockdrunk, aren’t you?”

You whimper some semblance of an agreement, feeling the band of tension in you already getting stretched to a breaking point. He’s at an angle that allows him to hammer into the most delicious spot inside of you, rubbing against it with each thrust.

“Gonna cum soon, I– I’m gonna cum soon,” you manage, locking his gaze.

“Let me feel it, go on, do it for me,” Jean pants, squeezing your neck tighter. The lack of air goes to your head; the room spins until all you can focus on is him pounding into you. You cum violently, throbbing around his cock, thrashing against his strong arms. Jean fucks you through it, never losing his pace. “Good fucking girl, just like that.”

You’re practically wheezing as your senses return to you, clawing at Jean’s arm on your throat. He lets up on your neck, smiling down at you. “Feel good?”

“Mhm,” you hum, blissed out and half-asleep until Jean flips you, forcing you to prop up on your hands and knees. “Wait, Jean–”

“Wait?” Jean scoffs, sliding back into you. You let out a little cry, and he smacks your ass sharply. “This is what you asked for, right? Said I was being too nice to you.”

“I didn’t– oh my god…” your eyes roll back into your head, a well-placed thrust cutting your words off. “It’s so…it’s so much, Jean.”

Jean lands three more sharp slaps to your ass, already thrusting into you at a brutal pace. “What was that?”

“T-too much, Daddy,” you collapse, face shoved into the bed to mask the pitiful cries leaving your mouth. It is too much; if you tuck your chin to your chest, you can see a little bulge in your tummy where he’s fucking into you, another orgasm already building in the pit of your stomach. You feel like you might pass out if he makes you cum again, but he’s ruthless.

“Too much?” Jean coos, fisting your hair to turn your face. He’s glaring down at you. “You were practically begging me for it, and my pretty girl gets what she wants, right? Said you wanted it rough, so you’re going to fucking take it.”

You nod miserably, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Jean hisses when you clamp down around him. “Squeezing me so goddamn tight, this pussy.”

You feel a hand start thrumming insistently against your clit and nearly shriek; your pussy’s so swollen, so sensitive already. You claw at the bedsheets, feeling something warm and wet swelling inside of you.

“Daddy, I– fuck, it’s, it’s–”

“Gonna make you squirt again,” it’s a promise from behind your ear, “you’re gonna squirt on my cock and Daddy’ll cum for you, okay?”

“I can’t, I–” you’re wailing, words cut off by your own moans. Jean loves it, you can feel his thrusts growing more urgent against your hips, so deep in you you could choke.

“You can,” he corrects you, hand moving faster, “want Daddy to cum in you?”

“Yes, please, p-please,” You cry, letting him use you as he wishes.

“I’ll give it to you, gotta cum first, you can do that, can’t you? Taking me so well, pretty girl, just need you to cum one more time for me.”

“Uh-huh,” the edges of your vision are starting to close in. He’s ruthless, hips slamming into yours hard enough to bruise, cock stretching you out so nicely, you can’t hold it, but you know, somewhere deep in this primal part of your brain, you need to be good, need to ask him. “Need to cum, Daddy, please– please let me, I–”

“Go ahead,” Jean shushes you, hips moving impossibly faster, “be a good girl, let me feel it.”

That tips you over the edge and Jean makes good on his promise; your cum is dripping out of you, spraying onto his thighs and ruining your sheets. You’re thrashing your head back and forth and sobbing through your orgasm, pinned and powerless under him. Jean swears at the vice-like grip you have on him; it doesn’t take him long to follow suit, pressing himself as deep as he can go, cumming in you. He bends over you as he does, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to him, kissing you hard in a mess of tongue and teeth. You feel it warming your stomach, moaning appreciatively until you both collapse in a sweaty mess of limbs, gasping for breath and clutching onto one another.

Jean allows himself a few moments to catch his breath, and then he’s pulling out of you, leaving you empty and whimpering. He shushes you, holding you close to his chest and letting you work through the intense session in his arms. You’ve never been so fucked out, nuzzling into his chest and simply letting him hold you, letting the aftershocks wrack through your sore body. After a few minutes you’re coming to; the haze begins to lift, and you peek up at him, unsure of where to start after…that.

“You okay?”

You turn the words over in your mouth before you can get them out, still feeling a bit like you’re floating. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. That was…wow.”

Jean, the man that just held you down and forced what were probably life-threatening orgasms out of you, blushes. “Yeah, it was really something.”

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, giggling despite yourself. Your mind is still a little cloudy, a little soft after everything. “But it was good. So good.”

“Yeah?” Jean grins, hoisting you up into his lap so you can both sit up, still cradling you to his chest. “Not too gentle, was I?”

Your face grows hot, you want to hide it behind your hands. “No, not too gentle.”

“You were right earlier,” he admits, “I was definitely holding out on you just because the way I like to…I mean, I don’t think I need to get too into it, you were there. It can be a lot. Didn’t want to push you too far.”

You hum contentedly, playing with the little gold chain he always wears. “I understand that now, but I’m a big girl. I can handle whatever you want to give me, promise.”

“Don’t say that,” Jean groans, “too tired for round two.”

Your hand falls into the mess between your thighs, and you wince. “Maybe after a shower?”

“Greedy,” Jean tuts, scooping you up with him to make the journey over to your bathroom, “my greedy, pretty girl.”

#jean kirschstein #jean smut #jean x reader #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschstein smut #jean kirstein smut #jean kirschtein smut #attack on titan #snk #snk x reader #aot x reader #aot smut #snk smut #snk headcanons #aot headcanons #jean one-shot

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euaphora · 8 months

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.ܸ ྀི - INTIMATE | twitter links

defention of dominat

filled up

speed

size kink

hold me

hold me 2

school girl

too much

skirt

hands around throat

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eli0004 · 7 days

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Making Out With The AoT Men

Summary: what it’s like to make out with the AoT boys

Gn!Reader

Warnings: Slight Nsfw suggestion

(Contains: Eren, Jean, Armin, Connie, Levi, Erwin)

Let me know if you all want me to do a more detailed version for any of them.

Eren Yeager is eager. He feels everything intensely, and that includes love. He’s holding your face in his hands, or tangling his fingers in your hair, all but climbing on top of you. He likes a lot of tongue, so his kissing is sloppy, and he’s so quick to become aroused. Eren wants all your attention on him, and you can bet that his is on you. Someone could walk into the room and say words to him and he’d be none the wiser. He gets so lost in the feeling that he quite literally sees nothing but you.

Jean Kirstein is passionate. He’s a hopeless romantic and he loves to be loved. When you’re making out with Jean, his hands will hover until you give him the go to touch you. His brows are tightly knitted together, and he just wants to pull you closer against him. Another one that likes his hair tugged on, but not too hard. Jean is all about gentleness, he values loving touch. If you’re ok with it, he will softly grab at your hips and thighs, not to squeeze or smack, just to touch you. To feel the warmth of your body underneath his palms.

Armin Arlert is soft. So so soft, his fingers in your hair, his blue eyes hazy and full of adoration. He’s humming softly against your lips, and he whispers little “i love you’s” in between kisses. His hands are soft, his lips are soft, the pink heat spreading over his cheeks is soft. You can run your fingers through that thick, silky blonde hair, tug a little at the roots and hear him whimper. He gets worked up too easily, his hips are softly raising off the couch cushion to find some relief. Honestly i’d say he’s in top 3 best AoT kissers.

Connie Springer is lazy, but not in a bad way. He could spend all his time wrapped up in blankets with you, safe inside, just basking in each other’s affection. He smiles a lot between kisses, so you’ll accidentally kiss his open mouth and he’ll just giggle at you as you scoff at him. His eyes get all droopy and he moves slow and deliberately. You make him so happy he can hardly contain it. Another one on the list that will blow your mind with his kissing skill.

Levi Ackerman is nervous. No matter how many times you make out with this man, your close proximity never fails to make his heart skip a beat. He does get comfortable quickly, however, and he’ll reach out and grab onto your forearms or search for your hands to hold. I like the idea that Levi is endearingly awkward, he doesn’t always know what to do and he likes for you to lead. But his head absolutely swims with love and desire, sometimes he’ll flutter his eyes open briefly just to look at you and soak in the feeling of being held so close. It took him a while to become comfortable with french kissing, but now, from time to time you’ll feel the tip of his tongue poking gently at your lips, and who are you to deny him?

Erwin Smith is just happy. He’s simply content to be in your embrace, letting out happy little sighs between your kisses. He’ll confidently place his hands on your thighs, squeezing gently, or traveling up under your shirt. His hands are so big and warm, calloused against your back and he’s so sensual with his affection. His hair becomes all disheveled and messy and the content expression on his face, the adoration in his eyes is so attractive, you cannot resist this man. Best kisser out of all of them.

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mochimooon · 2 months

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handsy - jean kirstein x reader 18+

Jean really likes to finger-fuck you. 'Nuff said. notes - established relationship. this came to me suddenly one morning and possessed me to write this on the fly. Zero plot, barely edited, minor POV switch, just filth :) warnings - explicit content, vaginal fingering, pervy! jean word count - 1800+

Jean is a handsy man. Or rather he’s a shameless perv – your words not his.

Then again, it’s hard for Jean to deny that. He can’t help it, never with you, not with the body you have. Moreso, he loves touching you.

The feel of your body, molding into his touch. The softness of your flesh, the roundness of your tits so fun to grope and pert nipples, too cute to not pinch. And then there’s that neck of yours, always adorned with a chain or necklace that calls his attention, a vampire that needs to sink his teeth into. He can’t forget those legs of yours. How they bend and stretch, looking so pretty wrapped around his waist and neck.

It's no secret, Jean loves to touch you in the most lewd ways. He calls it worship, you call it shameless.

To-may-to, to-mah-to. Because despite your bravado, you enjoy being spoiled by him, fending him off with lighthearted attempts.

But there is a line that you’ve been forced to draw, one that Jean crosses again and again and again.

It’s just not fair, he thinks. Of course, he’s more than thrilled to have you in any way that he can, but he wants to draw his own line that crosses over yours. Because pray tell, why it’s such an issue that Jean, more than anything else, fucking loves to finger you.

After you had swatted his hand away for the nth time during a dinner date, you demanded to know why he wanted to finger you constantly.

It was the first time, Jean had to think about it. There’s just something so naughty about sneaking his hand where it shouldn’t go. It’s perverted, he acknowledges that, and that’s what makes it the most fun. Something everyone’s taught— keep your hands to yourself. Jean likes doing the opposite with you.

The feel of your pussy pulsing around his digits, walls clamping down on his knuckles, it makes Jean delirious.

Jean’s a glutton for every single response you make. From the various ways you utter his name.

With a surprised gasp, “Jean!”

An annoyed, click of your tongue. “Jean…”

A hushed tone. “Jean.”

When you’re cumming on his fingers, moaning out, “Jean!”

Annoyed, worried, aroused, Jean loved every bit of it. Seeing your face screwed with pleasure despite bad timing (again your words. There’s no such thing as bad timing for him), nothing you could say or do would deter him from not fingering you.

The cycle never ends. He slides a hand up your skirt or dips his fingers into your jeans, and his touch makes itself at home in your wet pussy, all while you try to bat him away.

Today is no different. At a party with close friends, Jean had been extra touchy-feely with you, forecasting his habit. He managed to stave off for a few hours as you mingled with others, while he gave you some space only to resurface like an overactive puppy in desperate need of a walk.

But midway through, he snatched you up the stairs and into Connie’s bedroom, hands lifting the end of your dress.

You smack his chest. “Jean – no! Bad!”

He snorts, dropping his hands in feigned innocence. “Baby, I’m not a dog.”

“Yes, yes, you are. We’re at a party, just cool it for tonight or else.”

He dug his hands into his pockets, but you keep a close eye on them. “What do you mean or else?” His voice drips with curiosity, wiping away his impish grin.

“Or else, no touching for a while. No sex.” Jean’s mouth drops, but you cut him off. “I’m not messing around. You can’t just finger me with other people around.”

“Why can’t I finger you here then?” He sways on his heels, looking around to indicate how it’s empty. “I was on my best behavior. Didn’t slip my hand up your dress once tonight.”

You scoff, folding your arms. “No, but you were very touchy. Didn’t you hear Sasha tell us to get a hotel?”

He steps forward, hands still buried in his pockets. He’s being cautious, you can tell because you step back. “What’s wrong with wanting to touch my girlfriend?”

You clench your jaw to stop you from repeating the same thing. It’s a strategy that has worn you down in the past. Jean will beg, ‘but why not?’ on loop, using that charming smile of his to pepper kisses along your face, and your vestige would melt every time.

No, you tell yourself, watching him closely, ready to grab his hands when they leave his pockets.

He looms closer, gaze spilling onto your face. “I just want to touch you. I mean, look at you.” Light brown eyes rake you up and down. “You deserve an orgasm looking that good. Are you saying you don’t want one?”

It’s not fair how weak you are to the look he gives you. And the simple words of wanting to spoil you twists in your mind and curls down to your stomach, lighting that familiar spark.

No. You need to stand firm. This is good for the both of you. “It’s not going to work this time.”

“But – ”

“Uh-uh.” You shake your head. “It was cute the first couple of times, but I’m drawing a line.”

He pouts, a plea in his eyes.

You avert his gaze, unable to trust yourself, and it takes more restraint when Jean steps closer, kissing your hairline.

“Let me make you feel good. I just want my baby to relax.” He trails his lips to your forehead, down your nose in an innocent gesture, then finds your jaw. “C’mon. Say yes.”

You bite back a mewl, conflict only making you warmer. No matter how many times he’s touched you, Jean leaves you spellbound like the first time you met.

“Say yes…” he purrs into your lips.

The words steep into your mind, so close to reaching your tongue. But you catch the sound of others walking by, reminded of where you are. You blink, taking stock of the bedroom. Jean, however, doesn’t care about any of that, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Jean…”

“Uh-huh…” His voice trails towards victory.

“Not here.”

He pulls back, throwing his head back with a deep sigh, a look of defeat. You bristle with regret, yet stunned that Jean actually relented.

He lowers his head, a glimmer flashing in his gaze that sends a shudder down your spine.

It’s too late to stop his hands; they’ve freed themselves from his pockets and grab hold of your hips. You expect to be thrown on the bed, only for the floor to jostle in your sights.

Jean holds you securely over his shoulder, hooking an arm along the back of your knees. The other is on the move, lifting your dress and pulling your underwear off.

“Jean – ” You wriggle, though afraid you’ll fall.

Jean’s too strong to let that happen, even more determined to keep you in his clutches. Your panties are slipped past your ankles and tossed somewhere you can’t see. He pats your bare ass, giving the side a kiss.

Without preamble, you feel the drag of his finger along your slit, whining out.

“You’re soaking. You see, you just need an orgasm.” Jean’s tone is shadowed with lust.

“Jean, wait – ” you gasp, unable to negotiate, cut off with the push of two fingers. Your pussy flutters, stretching with a sting that sculpts around his knuckles. “Ah –”

“I’ll make you feel good.” Jean’s fingers pump into you deeply, the pad of his thumb reaching for your clit.

“Ah – ah – ” You’re already so dizzy, melting like clay at Jean’s deft fingers. It’s a first to be finger-fucked like this, but he’s skillful as always, you can’t blame this man for wanting to finger you. He’s a master at it. “Jean—”

He hums, pulling back his fingers until the tips tease your entrance. You miss the fullness of his touch already and you wriggle again, clutching onto the back of his shirt. “I’ll keep going, only if you say you love being fingered by me.”

You whimper, finding a way to grind down onto his fingers in the position you’re in. It feels impossible, only reaching the brush of his fingertips.

“Say it,” Jean says, pressing onto your clit. “Say, ‘I love it when you finger me’.”

You don’t know what it is about this time that hits different. On his lap, on your back, on your feet, Jean never fails to make you come undone on his hand. But over his shoulder, reliant on his hold, your stomach burns, your pussy dripping.

“Say it,” Jean repeats. “I want to touch you bad. But I want you tell me that you love getting fingered by me.”

You feel one finger plunge inside, nowhere near enough. “Jean, please, finger me.”

“Gladly, but that’s not what I want to hear. C’mon, don’t be stubborn. We don’t have all night. The party’s going to end in an hour, and Connie will need his bedroom at some point. Of course, I can always tell him that we’re busy.”

You scoff but it’s strained. Doing a sweep of your surroundings, you’re dizzy, voice lost.

“C’mon. You can do it. Just tell me you like how I finger you…”

You moan at the press of his fingertips teasing your hole. The moment drags out and you ache for reprieve. “I – I love – when you finger me – ”

“That’s my girl.” Triumph laces Jean’s murmur and he rewards you with three fingers, thrusting into you while his thumb rubs at your center. “You deserve an orgasm now.”

Your fingers claw Jean’s shirt, toes-curling as you’re struck with ecstasy. You moan out, wrinkling Jean’s shirt to stabilize you.

The moment passes, a crashing of a wave returning to the sleepy ocean. You fall limp, boneless and satisfied.

Jean slides you to your feet, keeping you steady. You peer up behind a lidded gaze, gratitude in your smile.

He strokes your face, taking his soaked fingers in his mouth. “I could finger-fuck you every second of every day.”

You smile weakly, leaning into his chest. The moment is short-lived. Your back sinks into the mattress with Jean crawling over your body, prying your thighs apart.

You give him a dumbfounded look, slow to realize what he’s already had in store.

He cups your pussy, teasing your entrance again. He flits a look up, mischief caught in his eyes. “Give me another one and I’ll keep my hands to myself for the rest of the night.” You’re too weak to argue, already bucking your hips at the renewed pleasure Jean pumps into you. His words evade you, as you and Jean both know that keeping his hands off you is a false promise. You swallow your pride, because he's not wrong, you wouldn't dream of him keeping his hands off you.

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mommypieck · 4 months

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⌗︙・friends with benefits with connie and jean ⸜⸜・

imagine you decide to become friends with benefits with both jean and connie. you knew they would be a little jealous of each other but you didn't know that they would see fucking you as a price to their dumb bets.

"i bet on y/n that i can jump across the pool." connie exclaims, punching jean is the side. of course jean doesn't believe him and they bet that if connie succeeds, he's gonna fuck your pussy tonight.

turns out that you spend your night with jean's cock buried inside of you while connie dries himself off. jeans cock is big and it feels good inside of you. he's not the roughest but he knows how to make you cum multiple times.

after few of their bets, you realize that jean can't let connie win for you own sake.

"you said you can take me." connie smirks, his cock ramming inside of your pussy. you have already cum 4 times and you're exhausted. but connie doesn't plan on stopping. for the first time in forever he got a better mark than jean and he's gonna savour his victory.

but with jean and connie, it's not only about fucking. they are your best friends, the kind of people you can always turn to. them stuffing you full is just a benefit of your friendship.

#aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #aot headcanons #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein smut #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein smut #connie springer smut #connie springer x reader #connie springer x you #connie springer x y/n

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j-u-u-z-o · 10 months

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New obsession

#this is a mullet right #wanna comb it with my fingers 😭#shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #snk #aot #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein x reader #anime

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nightfall-kachiniko · 7 months

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“Babe, babe.” He calls to you, grabbing your face to look at his. His eyes glaring into yours as he soft whispers. “look.”

he says, slighting raising his eyebrow as he stares at you with love and lust in his eyes.

He swiftly thrusts harder, going faster and deeper as you roll your head back, shutting your eyes as you let out a moan.

His eyes glare you down as you squeeze his arm, softening like putty as you melt into him . ༯

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jeansplaytoy · 9 months

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jean x thick!reader headcannons

sexual themes, smut, comfort, fluff.

jean LOVESSS your thighs, hips, waist, stomach, everything. he’s just really that typa person.

and love is literally an understatement. he adores them, worships them, this man will get on his knees for you, just to grab them.

he hates it whenever you’re like “baby, you think they’re too thick? like be for real.” because he loves them so much.

“hell nah they not too thick.” he’d say before rubbing them. “look at em. like jello.”

everywhere you go, his hands would have to be on your thighs. in the car, chilling on the couch, eating, eating, at a party, or any fancy dinner where he has to chance to sit right beside you.

he can’t resist them, asking for pics of them every time he’s out with his group or just not around you.

he loved squeezing them, just to make you jump a little and get your reaction

kissing your lips, your right thigh, then your left thigh whenever he was about to leave the house for a couple hours or minutes.

and he loves your waist.

he loves the way his scratch marks are on there every week, or couple of days if he’s really feening for you. but when isn’t he?

and he loves rubbing your belly, if you’re cuddling or something, he’ll randomly put his hand there and just start rubbing and every time you tell him to stop he’ll refuse.

he loves laying on your thighs, stomach, everything. and as much as he thinks it annoys you sometimes, he can’t help himself.

and when you sit on his lap, he loses control, but always tries to keep his cool, especially in public.

‘damn.’ he’d think to himself sometimes, staring right at it.

normally, in the comfort of your own home, he’d just pull you back to where your back was against his chest with a blunt in his left hand, slipping his right hand under your shirt and into your bra.

but in public, it was a whole different thing. he tried his best not to get hard at the sensation of you sitting directly on his lap, not even on his thigh. and when you glanced back at him with that ‘innocent’ ass look on your face, he’d give you almost a death stare before a small smile would creep on his face.

or when you’d walk in front of him and your hips moved gracefully with every step you took.

he just couldn’t get enough the chubbiness of some parts of your body. your arms, thighs, ass, cheeks, waist, and even when he’d catch a glance of your hip dips.

it was like even when you weren’t teasing him, you were teasing him. wearing his boxers, or those lace panties which you’d eventually have to get a new pair of, around the house.

and when your spaghetti strap shirt hugged just perfectly, showing all your curves and special spots. he just couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

and what he liked best was when you tried to get all mad at him over anything he did, even if he knew he was the reason you got mad, promise he’d always handle that shit.

“ah..! fuckkk..!” your eyebrows furrowed as he rammed, just balls deep into you, as nothing but wet and rapid sounds of your skin clapping against his own filled both of your ears. he sucked in air through his teeth and shook his head. “nah, yo ass was getting all mad earlier, repeat what you was saying.” he mumbled, exhaling smoke from his nose while he stared down at the way your ass and thighs moved from the impact.

you drove him fucking crazy.

tears formed at the corners of your eyes, gripping the sheets, swearing you felt them tear from the force, or maybe that was you.

“baby… mhh.. i don’t think i can take it…” you whined and whimpered, trying to get him to at least slow down. you suddenly felt a sharp sting on your ass, making you jump and moan louder. “p..please..!” you bit your lip, as you felt him dig his nails into your hips, pulling you back with each thrust he pulled off. “you feel so good ma, damn.” he whispered, ignoring your cries and pleas.

besides, you knew what happened when you got an attitude with him.

and when you were both on cloud 10, higher than you’ve ever been, or that’s what you two always thought, he loved it.

laying his head in between your thighs while lightly pulling at the ankle bracelet you wore. his eyes fixed on the tv, watching whatever cartoon you always thought was funny as hell when you were stoned and done.

or when one of his hands rested underneath your thigh and your calf, raising your knee a little higher than the other one, which he just let you rest up by yourself, while he rubbed on it.

he kissed the inside of your thigh, giving you your daily/weekly hickeys before biting on some spots.

you rested yourself on your hands, wanting to have a better view of him as you panted a little, biting your lip and rolling your eyes to the back of your head as soon as he kissed your clit, licking and sucking while your juices filled his tongue, stringing when he pulled away a little before continuing his normal routine.

he treated your pussy like your lips, you knew that much. slipping his tongue inside and slowly moving it around before taking it out and kissing at it again.

“mm… faster.. please.” you mumbled softly while the wet sounds filled the room, like always. jean lazily looked up at you as you moved your hips softly against his mouth, sticking one of his fingers inside of you and curling it right before pulling, not all the way out, but just enough to make you twitch a little when he pushed it back in.

he continued to suck and lick, listening to the way your soft moans filled the room. you used one of your hands to run your fingers through his hair, pushing his head closer to increase the pleasure. and each time, he’d let you.

removing his finger from your already swollen pussy, moving his arms underneath your thighs to massage your waist and hips while continuing to tongue fuck you.

and with his pink, sometimes red, low eyes, lashes looking prettier than usual, he loved the sight of you, whining to get through the pleasure.

“paint my face real pretty, mama.” he mumbled against you, as you pushed to do exactly what he said, nearly suffocating him as your thighs tightened around him.

he hummed a little, pulling your legs apart as you started to quiver and shake, the white, sticky substance all over his chin and mouth. and while he overstimulated you, you couldn’t help but tighten your legs up again.

but this time he let you.

he did love your thighs, after all.

#aot headcanons #aot x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein smut #aot jean #jean kirschtein headcanons #jean kirstein #jean smut #aot smut #aot x chubby reader #aot x black reader #jean x black reader #jeansplaytoy♡︎

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