crushedcandiedapple - WIP (wife in progress)
WIP (wife in progress)

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Free Use Is So Fun Like...you're Telling Me I Get To Be A Stress Toy? A Fuckdoll??? You'll Come Home

free use is so fun like...you're telling me i get to be a stress toy? a fuckdoll??? you'll come home and bend me over and pound the daylights out of me just because you can????? no warning or nothing???????? beautiful

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More Posts from Crushedcandiedapple

4 months ago

yesss pleaseeee write the stalker!jean y/n as a drabble!!! like Jean is just soo 😫i just know he would be a good asl stalker, especially since he is super tall and mysterious 😫

lurk

Yesss Pleaseeee Write The Stalker!jean Y/n As A Drabble!!! Like Jean Is Just Soo I Just Know He Would

pairing: jean kirstein x f!reader

word count: 1.7k +

a/n: i didnt proof read this but also this came out super cute but like also terrifying but ily pookie bear jean

tw: stalking, manipulation, drinking, etc

it was cold tonight, nearly below freezing in shiganshina. you hated the cold, you dreaded being bundled up in a billion layers only to still be shivering. however, it was almost christmas and you were running behind on shopping. fortunately for you, the streets were quiet. nobody wanted to be out in this weather. you weren't afraid of the dark. often times, you embraced the peace that came from walking the street alone at night. despite being a woman, shiganshina was a relatively safe city.

the streets and sidewalks were lined with a thing layer of snow with flurries still falling from the sky. there's a glow of warmth from the street lines as you duck into the nearest store. it's a small boutique that's much warmer than outside. there are mannequins strewn about, various pieces on displays and a small jewelry section in the back. you decide to head to the back of the store and work your way up front.

despite being a small array of options, the jewlery they had was beautiful. you pick up a small white box were two silver earrings in the shape of hearts like. you frown as you slide a finger down the side of the container. they were pretty, but it wasnt something your mother would like and that's who you were here for, after all. you ponder getting them for yourself but your face drops when you remember your budget. you sigh and put them back on the shelf while you put your mother first.

as you set them down, you can't shake the feeling of being watched. no, you were definitely being watched. you slowly turn your head around and an exhale when you don't see anybody with their eyes on you. just a few other women browsing about and the shop owner who's ringing up a tall man's purchase. you shake your head. christmas time was always stressful for you and it's certainly showing now.

after finding a suitable necklace for your mom, you bring it up to the cashier. the cashier is a sweet, older lady who is smiling as hard as she can. you feel bad that she has to be out at work during the cold and make small talk about how you'll need to do your holiday baking tomorrow. she laughs and tells you that she's running behind too, and that she's sure you'll get your cookies done in time.

the walk back to your apartment building isn't so bad despite the howling wind. you remind yourself to be thankful for the snow, knowing the toll global warming would eventually take. on the opposite side of the street, there's a nice black car with tinted windows. you take a moment to wonder who was lucky enough to drive such a luxurious car, as you've seen it around town before. quite often actually. although, you've never seen it on your street before. you didn't live in the nicest part of town and you assume it must be somebody's family member visiting for the holidays. you head into the builiding, unaware of the pair of eyes staring at you from within the car.

unfortunately, the next day isn't any warmer. you're smart this time and decide to go shopping early in the day instead of having to brave the cold, harsh night. you drive to the nearest grocery store; your kitchen was tragically empty and lacking all of the ingredients needed to make your famous christmas cookies.

in the baking aisle of the store, you stare at the plethora of options that could either make or break your dessert. you grab a bag of chocolate chips and peanut butter chips. you spin on your heel, ready to move farther down the aisle. classically, you bump right into somebody and unfortunately the carton of eggs you had tucked under your arm before coming to this aisle heads straight to the ground. the lid pops open and eggs fall out, cracking on the ground. ultimately, they crack and the yolks splatter onto your shoes and up your paint leg a little. you let out a gasp and look up into the eyes of a handsome stranger.

his hazel eyes widen as he looks at splattered eggs on your clothing. "i'm so sorry, i didn't see you there." he looks for a way to help you but he's failing.

"it's fine," you sigh. "it's christmas time and we're all in a rush. plus, i'm a little clumsy." you blush as you feel his eyes give you a once over. you clear your throat and his eyes come back up to land on yours.

"i'm the clumsy one this time. i really am sorry. could i at least pay for your stuff?" he tilts his head. you realize just how tall he is as he looms over you, waiting for an answer.

"no, that's alright, really. it's my fault, i told you i'm clumsy. stuff like this happens to me alot." you admit, turning more red by the second. he laughs and rubs the back of his neck. his laugh is deep and hearty.

"oh, c'mon, how else are those cookies going to get made?"

"how did you know i was going to make cookies?" you ask, raising a brow at him. he clears his throat and points at the bags in your arms.

"you're in the baking aisle, after all. eggs and chocolate chips are also two of the most important things when it comes to cookies." he laughs and you feel embarrassed at your stupid question. obviously he knew you were going to be baking, it's that time of year and you are holding the ingredients for them. you laugh with him and choose to accept his generosity, appreciating not having to spend your own money, especially since it was a little tight right now.

after picking out a new carton of eggs, you and the handsome stranger head to the check out line. "my names jean, by the way." he says as he hands the clerk his card. he looks down at you.

"i'm (y/n)." you tell him. he nods his head. he hands you the plastic bag filled with your now paid for groceries. you two walk out of the store together when all of a sudden, he stops you.

"this might be a little cliche and a little too fast, but would you like to go to dinner with me tomorrow? just feel really bad 'bout the eggs 'n all." he shrugs as he makes sure his joke lands.

you know what, what the hell?

"sure, jean."

after exchanging numbers, you two head off in your own separate directions. back at your apartment, the fancy car is still there, just in a slightly different position. you think about how nice it must be to have family come to visit as you head inside.

tomorrow night comes quicker than expected. you had knots in your stomach all morning and you find them still lingering into the evening. you take your time getting ready for your date with jean and you can't shake the feeling of anxiety nestling into your chest.

later on, you park your car at the restaurant jean had texted you to meet him at. it's a high end restaurant and you're relieved you chose to wear one of your nicest dresses and an overcoat. as you make your way to the front door, you see that same black car, tucked neatly into one of the back parking spots. you shake your head as you head into the restaurant.

jean is dressed to the nines. if you thought he was handsome yesterday, you thought he fucking looked deadly tonight. if looks could kill.

jean smiles as you take a seat across from him. you give him a shy smile as you watch him take in your appearance. there's a glimmer of hunger in his eyes that makes you want to sink into your seat. you're self conscious as his eyes devour you but his words come out so calmly. "you look really good."

"thank you." quiet are the words that manage to come from your lips.

you spend the evening making talk of all sort of topics ranging from the weather to the casual, heated arguments about aliens and if they existed or not. you really enjoy your time, finding it n yourself to indulge in a bottle of wine. jean offers to pay for the entire meal as your plates becomes empty. you laugh and make a joke about how rich he must be. he just chuckles in return.

you start to realize just how drunk you are. the heat in your cheeks is radiating and you feel like you're vibrating, just a little. jean hasn't taken his eyes off you once.

"before you go," he starts. he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, white box. "i got you something. now, i know we just officially met but i couldn't help myself."

the words go right over your head as you reach across the table for the little container. you take the lid off and gasp. the pair of little, silver hearts from the store the other night. you become a stuttering mess. "h-how did you.."

your brain begins to move a thousand miles a minute, flashing different pictures your eyes have collected the last few days. it's the black car you've seen all over town. the tall man in the boutique. the black car parked on your street. the feeling of being watched. the cookies. the earrings. the car in a different position.

your words fall out in a whisper as you drop the box onto the table. "you..." jean tilts his head and smirks. he can see the realization in your eyes and the hunger in his grows. you feel helpless in this crowded restaurant, not wanting to make a scene. he watches your rosy cheeks turn pale.

"me? what about me, (y/n)?" his words are condescending.

"you've been watching me. stalking me." you hiss under your breath, hoping it comes out as confident but jean picks up on the shakiness on your voice.

"hmm..? what was that?" you can see the thrill he's getting. you don't answer him. you reach to where you set your phone on the table at the beginning of the date. it isn't there. “oh, my silly (y/n.) you've drank a whole bottle of wine. just however will you get home?"

my jean fanfiction

my ko-fi


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4 months ago

bf who asks “you want a treat??” while unbuttoning his pants


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4 months ago

✧ jean kirstein as a first time dad ✧

his hands shook with the fear of being a terrible father, but his eyes told you he’d be an amazing one

jean kirstein who’d lay in you lap while your bump was still little just to be close to the most important things in his life

he looks forward to the day when they will be big enough to run to the door and greet him when he comes home from work

just imagine the father of your kids, jean kirstein, scooping up your baby after a long day and all the stress in his face just melts away

jean also dreads the day they will become too big. he has a fear that one day they won’t need him

secretly hopes for a girl to spoil and to love

will be in the kitchen making sunday breakfast for you and the kid. eggs, waffles, bacon, everything

when your water broke, he was white knuckled all the way to the hospital, barely taking his eyes off the road

he’ll kiss your forehead and wipe your tears. he’ll tell you to keep your eyes on him, that you can do this, that he’s right here, and that you’re almost there.

not long after you’re both home and settled in with the baby, he asks about another one. he would love a few mini you’s running around creating chaos.

found himself driving to gas stations for your 3 am cravings

jean kirstein who would listen so intensely during all your prenatal checkups, read the parenting books and hell, even consider going to a first time parent group. he’s so invested in you and this growing child, he can’t afford to fuck it up for a single second.

read my jean fic here xoxo


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4 months ago
I FUCKING HATE HOW ACCURATE THIS IS
I FUCKING HATE HOW ACCURATE THIS IS

I FUCKING HATE HOW ACCURATE THIS IS 😭😭😭


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4 months ago

Study abroad? Well....only if i know her. i don't like to stare.


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