Y'all Know Y'all Love Y'all Some Onyankopon .

y'all know y'all love y'all some onyankopon 😭.

he is fine thoughh!!

fuck i hate dumb people

this made me think about yelena or paige buecker HELLLLLL i'm lost for words...

THIS IS VERRY ABBY CORE (can someone make drabble about this 🙏🏽🙏🏽)

I can't stop thinking of Armin slapping his dick on my face because of @bey0nseh 's hc's. HELP MEEEE

ouuu and armin’s a tease, he’s the type to slap it on your tongue too. he really enjoys that view of you — it’s so erotic, so vulgar. on your knees like the good girl you are, waiting to swallow his dick whole.

“open.” he’d command and you obey, letting your tongue hang, giving the man a full view of your throat. with one hand on his base, he’d tap tap tap the tip on your wet muscle. it was so red and, just oozing milky precum. letting out a low groan, he’d move his dick to your cheek, his sticky member colliding with your soft skin over and over.

“armin, stop teasing.” you pout, turning your face to lick on the shaft.

“fuck, you nasty girl.” he inhaled sharply and cupped your cheek, positioning his throbbing dick right on your lips this time. “wanna suck this dick that bad, hmm? go 'head baby, make me cum down your throat."

shoulda, coulda, woulda, j. kirstein

synopsis: jean loved his job, he loved being a teacher. there was just something about his eighth grade class that brought him so much joy, he loved everything about his job, even then annoying, tedious tasks. he wouldn’t trade it for anything else. especially when one of his students’ mom is the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

⚠️ afab!reader, cheating, swearing, smut, cocky!jean, teacher!jean, jean gets possessive, reader is in a loveless relationship.

kio’s notes - if y’all only knew the struggle i been going through to get this fic back🤦🏽‍♀️ anyways— i have this hc of the aot characters in like a school setting, and this is what i came up with for jean’s. also please don’t take any of this seriously, i’m writing this for shits and giggles bc i really do believe jean would have the audacity. MINORS DNI !!! 18+

now playing

⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ✺ ⋅.}──────── ⊰

ok so how i picture jean as a teacher is the type of teacher that at first glance, is expected to be a strict and cold teacher. one that didn’t really goof around with his class and focused on the rules. he was stern at times, yeah, but if you sat in on a lesson with jean, you would see it’s actually the exact opposite.

for one, he was pretty chill. his students were comfortable to talk to him about anything that was bothering them. he even spoke to them about things that would happen to him, and even try to turn it into a life lesson.

“so this man cut me off today while driving here to see y’all. now i wanna know, do i let that little thing make me upset for the rest of the day, or do i take a breath, shake it off and make the best of a good mornin’?”

((( sidenote: i also imagine him having a bit of a southern accent? nothing crazy but like a like twang y’know? country boy turned teacher typa vibe.)))

another thing he would do is block out a time of the day—fifteen to twenty minutes (usually at the end of the day or during free period) to talk to his students about what’s currently going on, whether it be in their lives or in the world. he wasn’t on social media like that, so aside from world news, he was in the dark, especially about pop culture.

“mr. k! are you team selena or hailey?” one of his students asked, getting jean to furrow his brows.

“selena as in gomez? who’s hailey? and why are they beefing?” and for the next fifteen minutes, jean watches as a number of his students go up to the white board and draw him a diagram, explains the celebrity web of drama.

jean was also a fitness enthusiast. he loved to exercise and get his body moving. he also encouraged it in his class, even incorporating it into his history lessons. he would set up a circuit of educational exercises, where his students would not only learn new things, but even get a little bit of some cardio in. for example, at the end of each week for black history month, jean would have ahis class split into teams and take the photos of black icons from one side of the class, and run to the other side to stick them by a description.

jean even loved the annoying aspects of teaching elementary, like yard duty. he would normally be with the primary grades due to his ability to keep up with their energy, but when he would be with the juniors and intermediates he loved when they’d ask him to play a game.

“mr. k! we need one more for five on five!” one of his students would yell, and jean would jog over and join the team.

and if he was on duty with his friends? oh best believe they’re joining.

“serayah, honey,” jean waved over a sixth grader from his friend, mikasa’s class. “tell ms. ackerman that mr. k wants her to sub in for him.”

but what jean loved more than anything about his job was parent-teacher meetings. why? because he would get to see one of his favorite students, and his favorite parent. you and your son dante.

dante was one of jean’s most athletic students. he was on the school’s basketball and track team, as well as playing for a rep league outside of school. he took a liking to jean rather quickly, babbling on to you about how cool his teacher was.

when it came time to finally meet him at the school’s welcome back barbecue, you were shocked, for lack of better words. jean had to be the most handsome teacher you ever laid eyes on. he was muscular, lean, standing at six feet and two inches. he wore a dark denim jacket with a plain black tee shirt underneath, black cargo pants and a pair of black and yellow jordan retro 12s. he had a single silver chain and two small, silver hoop earrings. he smiled with a natural smirk, his eyes crinkling and creating a look you couldn’t help but fawn over. his freckled cheeks reddening with every compliment he got from parents passing by.

when his eyes landed on you, it seemed as though time stood still. you were mesmerizing to him. dressed in some jeans and a striped dress shirt, accessorized with dior slides and a black handbag. your hair was tied into a puff, small, coils accent pieces pulled out randomly for a ‘lazy effect’.

when you and dante walked up to him, he had a big, warm smile on his face. “mr. kirstein, correct?” ypu extended your hand, to which jean accepted. it was a soft, and now that you were closer to him he smelt the subtle hint of lilac waft off you. you gave him a bright smile, glossed lips pulled back to reveal bright whites that along with cheery eyes, had him swooning.

for the first five minutes of seeing you, jean was elated. but when his eyes glanced down to look at your interlocked hands, and he saw that silver wedding band glimmer in the light on your left ring finger, he felt a dark cloud over his head.

“it’s uh, pleasure to meet you mrs. smith.” jean cleared his throat and smiled, swallowing back the slight disappointment.

you shook your head, “please, call me (y/n), and the pleasure is mine. dante speaks so highly of you. i had to come see the magic for myself.” you laughed, the compliment getting him to look down as he felt his cheeks burn.

“well, dante is a good kid. love hearing his takes when we do history, and his heavy opinion on math.” jean looked over to dante with a teasing smirk, one that the young man rolled his eyes playfully at.

“there’s no reasons why paul needs 40 watermelons, mr. k! we’re going through inflation right now, he bein’ selfish!” your son exclaimed, his comment getting both you and jean to laugh.

before you could dive in further and ask questions regarding the class’ curriculum, a hand on your lower back interrupted you. “there ya are, was looking all over this dump for you.” your husband, erwin, kissed the side of your head as he stood next to you. he was dressed in a black suit, with a long brown coat over him. he must’ve come from work.

“oh you showed up, funny.” you said, trying to keep a playful tone as to not indicate to jean there was a problem. unbeknownst to you though, jean was more of a body language analyzer than tone, so although you sounded somewhat happy at your husbands appearance, he could tell by how you stiffened at his touch that you weren’t feeling it.

“don’t be like that.” erwin spoke to you in a quick, hushed tone before looking to his son, whose mood also seemed to drop at his dads presence. “dante, how’s it going?”

“good, dad. this is my teacher, mr.kirstein.” dante pointed to jean, who was still not over how your cheery mood seemed to evaporate the second your husband walked in.

the blond man turned to jean, eyes flicking up and down him before a smirk found its way on his lips, “this the one you don’t shut up about, huh? i’m erwin smith, attorney at maria rose law firm.” he extended his hand to jean and of course, he shook it with a smile, despite cursing the man internally.

it was at that barbecue jean learned the dynamic of your marriage, and got to see it play out over the course of the year. erwin, as best as he seemed to try, was very disconnected with dante. he had not a clue what the boy liked to do or how he was doing in school. jean gathered this from the way erwin would go on his phone when he would talk about dante’s in-class progress or how he would come with you to dante’s games and meets, but never really cheer for the boy. not like how jean would.

he would either be looking down at his phone for most of the game, or watch with the most uninterested look on his face. and when jean brought it to your attention, you would always shrug it off.

“he’s just not a big basketball fan, s’all.” you would reassure jean, but he could tell from the way you bit down on your bottom lip and eyebrows softened after speaking that you didn’t even buy into your own excuse.

but it was okay. erwin’s silent spectating made jean’s cheers all the more louder. you and him acting a fool on the bleachers whenever dante made a good play. so much so that dante stopped informing his dad and started telling jean about his upcoming games—even asking him to help him practice on a dunk at lunch recess. there was even one occasion you had to swing jean a text, asking him if he drive dante to practice because erwin got held up at work (even though he told you he’d take him).

but yeah. jean loved teaching. because through his job he met you and the two of you had grown incredibly close, bordering on good friends. it wasn’t the most ethical thing in the world, befriending a students mom, but jean knew coworkers who have done worse so he wasn’t phased.

you had noticed how much better dante’s energy had gotten since jean’s arrival. he looked forward to not only games but school now, and was even warming up more to his teammates and classmates. before he was very reserved, only speaking when spoken to. but jean brought something out of him. when he came, he would go stand by the players and help the teams coach. sometimes he’d even takeover. he would dub dante team leader, encouraging him to speak up more. after the first time jean coached the team, dante begged him to be his mentor.

“pleaseee mr. k! you really the only solid guy i got to look up to. you like what i like and you can ball. c’mon do it as a form of reparations! ” dante begged him one day after school, ambushing jean while he was trying to pack up his things and head home.

jean wanted to agree instantly, but knew he needed to speak to you about it. he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, not with you or dante—especially you, seeing as how you were a married woman. he brought it up to you the next time he saw you, at dante’s next game, while you two sat on the bleachers as dante’s team warmed up.

“d said he wants me to be his mentor. wanted to ask you if it’s okay to accept. i wouldn’t wanna step on his father’s toes or anything of the sort.. he also told me to do it for reparations?”

on the outside, jean was expressing consideration and empathy. but on the inside, he was country steppin’ on erwin’s toes, letting an evil laugh out in his head at the thought of taking erwin’s place. not just in dante’s life, but yours too.

you let out a loud cackle at the last part, “no he didn’t! oh my gosh, i’m so sorry bout his blunt ass. but i doubt erwin would look up from his phone long enough to care, jean. it’s cool with me if you want to accept. d’s changed a lot since you’ve been around, it’s been nice to see.”

you were in awe at your son’s transformation, to say the least. it was the spring of the second term, and dante had improved so much in the last couple months. his writing, confidence, and athletic ability had improved, but so had his mindset. he never took school seriously, or even cared about his marks. erwin told you it was just his teenage phase and to let him be, but you couldn’t. and thankfully for you, jean couldn’t either. he was more hands on than erwin, who was too focused on clients to worry about you two.

but oh, erwin should’ve worried.



he should’ve started to worry when you started coming home later. you used to be home by seven to make dinner for him when he would come home, tired from judges and verdicts. but now you’d be home at nine or nine thirty, you and dante well-fed while erwin munches on dinner he bought or leftovers he threw together once he realized you weren’t coming home in time.

he should’ve been curious when you were getting calls from jean outside of the appropriate hours. erwin would catch you on the phone at ten at night or sometimes even midnight. he would question you, but you would say it was either an “urgent dante matter” or that you were on the phone with one of your girlfriends and urge him to leave you alone.

but what really should have raised your husband’s suspicions was when you would go out with jean without dante. if only he didn’t shrug off dante when he said you finished work and went with jean to meet up with other members of the team’s parents. if only he wondered why the parents would be getting together at nine o’clock on a wednesday night.

if he had, maybe you wouldn’t have been at a bar late at night, confiding in jean about your marriage as you throw your legs over his lap, pink crocs practically neon in the light.

if erwin had worried, you and jean wouldn’t be tipsy and dancing together, with him holding you close as you swayed your hips to the rhythm of the music, grinding against his hardening dick with his thumb in the loop of your jeans as he tapped the beat of the music against your hip.

if erwin had called you like he thought to, he would’ve pulled your attention from jean, who was whispering sweet words into your ear, going on about how beautiful you are, and how he’s been dying to take care of you. his hand held your own, his warmth making your body melt.

maybe if erwin had worried about the amount of time you were spending with jean, he could’ve prevented that night. and stopped you from beginning what would be the end of your sanctified marriage.

maybe you wouldn’t be a where you were right now, how many days later, lying on your side with jean behind you, laying waste to your plump lips with kisses and nips. he held you close to him, chest pressed against your back and arms around you. he was grinding himself against you, his tip hitting your clit.

“jean,” you whined, a breathless sigh leaving your lips after. he had already fucked you to five orgasms throughout the day—since eight in the morning, the time you arrived at his house (you had lied and said you were going to work). but he was looking to make it six—his lucky number. honestly, your body really shouldn’t endure anymore of jean, but he was fucking you too good for you to focus on soreness and/or tell him to stop.

he tapped his dick against your clit, the puffy nub tingling from the sensation. “fuck, baby put it in.” you whined. your hand slid down to try and push his head down to go in between your folds. “please, m’so ready.” you sniffled, feeling the familiar sting of tears in your eyes.

“my baby so needy, hm? what’s wrong? that shitty husband of yours ain’t fuckin’ right?” jean spoke next to your ear, his breath fanning over your cheek. he continued to glide himself up and down your folds, collecting your slick as lube and ignoring your whining and begging.

“not like you, jean—shit!” you were struggling to pull yourself together. you were overstimulated, you were exhausted, but your body craved him. it had been so long since you were worshipped like this, since your heart had felt so full from jean’s endearing words. not to mention phat ma was loving the attention.

jean chuckled, “you damn right, sweetheart. this right here is mine, understand? don’t wanna see no other man touching you, speaking to you—looking at you, even! i’ll fuckin’ kill ‘em.” he snarled.

he didn’t wait for a response from you. he just slowly pushed himself inside, listening to the breath that hitched in your throat. that really was all the response he needed. “jean…” you grabbed onto the sheets to release any form of tension. despite being full of jean all day, you were still not use to his motion. his size was one thing; he was tall with a curve at the head. he he was more on the thicker side, with light brown hairs trimmed neatly around his area. he was about the same size as erwin, but it was his strokes that hit you differently. they were far more powerful than your husbands. they were more determined, focused—not just on his own orgasm but yours as well.

jean smirked, “not like me, yeah. that asshole can’t begin to reach the places i can! m’gonna fuck some sense into you to leave that blond fuck.” he pressed his free hand against your stomach, squeezing on your waist. “gonna give my pretty girl the family she always wanted. me, you, d, and one of our own. how’s that’s sound, sweetheart?” jean kissed the back of your ear with his promise.

you were dying! here this man was, fucking you into an oblivion, loving your body in a way your husband hasn’t in so long. how were you supposed to say no? he was promising you what erwin no longer gave you, what he forgot he did on your wedding day.

it was wrong for you to be here with him. you were breaking every possible vow and eternal promise you made to erwin on the day of your wedding. but in the moment, you didn’t care. jean was fucking you too good to feel guilty for your infidelity. his dick was hitting a spot you had forgotten existed, wiping your memory of erwin and the past nights of passion you two shared.

“think of our baby, mama. how beautiful they’ll look with your eyes, your smile, your fuckin’ kindness—” jean was lolling at the thought. the idea of getting you swollen with his baby. pregnant you would be dependent on him for sure, needing him to ease your sore body or help you with your hormonal mood swings. he would be your go-to. he could see the future you two could have, it was right there. and by god was he going to attain it one way or another.

“please, make me a mommy, jean please. wanna be your kids’ mommy.” you begged him, and he could’ve cum alone at that. you looked back at him, lips poked out in a pout and eyes glossed over. there wasn’t a thought behind them, nothing in that pretty little head of yours except how he was making you feel.

yeahhhh, erwin should have been worried. when he saw you enter your shared bedroom at nearly midnight, walking straight to the bathroom with what appeared to be a faint limp, he shouldve gotten up to ask you what happened….but he couldn’t bring himself to.

he should’ve pushed jean for answers when he ran into him one day at home depot, and after threatening him over your guys’ overly friendly relationship, listened to jean respond with:

“you know what i tell my students about letters, mr. smith?…that sometimes they can be silent. like the word ‘rhythm’ for example—the first ‘h’ is silent. and i’m gonna tell you that the word ‘your’ has a silent y.”

erwin blinked, “what?”

jean nodded, a shit-eating grin on his face, “yup. at least in your case it does. so your wife, is our wife. that body you don’t value” jean rolled his neck in irritation, “is ultimately hers, but for the sake of this argument, is ours—well more so mine since i heard your ass isn’t hittin’ spots i can. so keep that in mind the next time you think about steppin’ to me, alright? you have a good night now, mr. smith.” he flashed erwin a wink before turning away, leaving the man stunned in the middle of the store.

perhaps it was now too late for erwin to worry.

can i say something

@yumethefrostypanda