Jean X Black Reader - Tumblr Posts

Who wants to be tagged in it when it's done?

UPDATE❗️❗️: Almost done yall just need to finish this last little section and it's gonna be up soon

Who wants to be tagged in it when it's done?

DARL+ING

pairing: jean x black! reader

genre: fluff, jean being in love

inspired by: darl+ing by seventeen (stan svt!)

cw: none!

a/n: i love svt so much yall don't understand

you know without you, i'm so lonely

he hated seeing you leave. whether it was you going back home to take care of a few things, or when it was going to work. he didn't care why you leaving, he hated it. hated it so damn much. cause all he's thinking is about when you are going to return back in his arms. he couldn't take being away from you for long.

when you're not here, 911 calling

he sits alone in his room, looking at his phone, waiting for it to have some sort of reaction. he wanted to make sure that you are ok, that you're safe. he knows that you are fine by yourself because he has seen it. But he couldn't help but thinking that something bad happened to you. yes, he's that damn dramatic. but all his worries wash away when you text him. he didn't care about what you texted, as long as he knew that you were still with him.

Into your heat again, i'm diving

you loved jean, and jean loved you. there was never a time where you two imaged being without each other. it's like no matter how many times you two saw each other, you would have the same feelings that you had since the beginning of the relationship. he never fails to make your heart flutter in ways that no one could ever make it.

darling, you, darling, you, baby

jean had realized that he had fallen deeply in love with you. there was no way out, and he was glad there wasn't. he needed to be with you, you needed to be with him, it was common knowledge. it was you, it had always been you, it will always be you that is the one for him. the day you came into the picture was the best day of his life. he hated not being with you, he hated it when you left him. but when you returned to him, all his worries washed away. why? because his darling was finally back into his arms.

© 2023 briology

you were gonna beat the fuck out jean.

like literally, actually murder him.

you huff to yourself as the clock ticked another hour. bye two a.m he finally showed up with a tired look on his face. you rested against your headboard with crossed arms as you gave him a pissed off look.

a smirk does not miss his face as he stares down at your naked body beneath the slightly open robe. he can’t help but be snarky as the next words leave his mouth. “all this for me?”

“nah it’s for my new nigga now, leave me alone,” you mutter, turning your head away from him. “he’s actually on his way right now, so you best get to steppin’ somewhere.”

“say word,” jean teased you with an amused look on his face as he removed his belt. you remained silent at his call of your bluff. with a kiss of his teeth, he leaned on the bed and snuck a quick kiss onto your lips. “i’m sorry, mama,” he apologized genuinely. “you gonna forgive me?”

“what am i getting from forgiving you?” you asked hastily, head still turned away from him. “forgive you when i’m not even getting my pussy ate? fuck you, jean.”

“i’ll eat your pussy till you nut,” jean shrugged casually. the explicit words left his mouth so calmly as he stared in your eyes. “i could fuck sweet girl till she’s clenching around me to stop,” there’s another one. “or you can sit and fuck my face. your choosing, i’m not picky.”

this is what you hated (loved) about jean. you hated how he always acknowledged his wrongdoings and was willing to pleasure you in any way in order to make you feel better.

you couldn’t stay mad at him for long. not when he had your ankles damn near touching your ears as he split you open with the surface of his tongue. he lapped up at your never ending cream mercifully as he flicked the bud of your clit.

“never gonna hurt my baby again.”

you moaned out, exploring the new sensational feeling of his tongue eventually fucking into your seeping hole. jean leaned his head back for a millisecond before letting out the nastiest spit ball ever.

his DNA dribbled along the surface of your pussy as he played with your folds between his middle finger. the bulge in his pants grew bigger by the minute the more he played with his pretty little pussy.

you could never stay mad at that nigga for long.

their favorite parts of the braiding process

summary: lmfao it’s just the title

genre | includes: headcanons, sfw, black reader, gn reader, established relationship

characters: eren jaeger, mikasa ackerman, armin arlert, sasha braus, jean kirschtein, connie springer, levi ackerman, hange zoe, erwin smith, historia reiss, ymir (not fritz), reiner braun, annie leonhardt, bertholdt hoover, marco bodt, miche zacharius, nanaba, zeke jaeger, yelena, onyankopon, pieck finger, porco galliard

author’s note: got my hair done a few days ago and i’ve been experiencing insane aot brainrot so here we are. ignore the way these got progressively longer lol. this was fun and i have some other ideas, maybe college won’t kill me before i post them. enjoy and lemme know what you think :)

the take down – you can’t really place them. they never want you to take your old hair out, but are all giggly with the scissors when you assert that it’s time. they can’t help it. even with all the build-up on your scalp, they think the return of your natural hair is something out of a fairy tale. they love the curl pattern left in your hair after weeks of being in braids and they love separating the braiding hair from your own. the scene stays the same: you’re on a pillow on the floor between their knees while a shitty hallmark romcom plays on the tv in front of you. both of you are armed with rattail and wide tooth combs, mentally preparing for all the shedding and breakage you’ll be brushing off the couch for the next few weeks. it’s routine at this point for them to jokingly hover the open scissors over the part of your braid where you know damn well your hair is and ask if they can cut from there. it’s also routine for the scissors to get snatched right out of their hands as you proceed to cut way below where your hair could logically be because “after all the time i spent fighting people in walmart for the mielle oil, i better have a natural 40 inch buss down under all this xpressions”. 

EREN, ymir, PIECK, zeke (cut your hair like an inch from the scalp while removing butterfly locs one time and, to this day, you’ve never seen someone more terrified), nanaba, YELENA, onyankopon

the wash – they’re probably more excited about your hair getting washed than you are. they miss giving you scalp massages without having 6 weeks worth of gel and leave in conditioner left under their nails. what they didn’t get was why it took so long. it probably sparked an argument because they never spend that much time washing their hair, so why do you? it wasn’t until you made them watch as you and your detangling brush fought with your curls under the stream of water and nearly blacked out from the heat that they realized why the water bill was so high. to save your aching arms (and hopefully some extra cash) they offered to wash your hair for you. they nearly waterboarded you the first time, but with practice, they got better.  now, nothing relaxes them more than lathering shampoo through your hair and occasionally spraying water in your face when you look too at peace. they buy you a salon wash basin for christmas so you both can stop crouching over the tub which is great, but where the fuck are you supposed to install it?

MIKASA, erwin, sasha, REINER (has the cutest smile when you sigh in response to him scratching that one spot on your scalp), hange, jean, annie, porco

the blowout – they don’t realize, especially if your hair is type 4, that detangling during the wash is only half the battle. it doesn’t matter how silky smooth it got in the shower, the second the blow dryer is out, it all goes to hell. i hope you’re not tenderheaded because the fight between them and your curls is long and painful. but it's a battle they refuse to let you fight. god forbid you try to blow out your own hair– they get sooo upset. which confuses you because the way they grumble under their breath while passing the comb attachment through your hair has you convinced they’re only doing it to work out some unresolved stress. the truth is, they just know you’ll forget to use heat protectant and wind up frying your hair. and they know how upset you get when you realize some of your roots didn’t get stretched. so they’ll (gently) muscle their way through the most stubborn tangles any day if it means getting to see you smile at how healthy your hair looks and how much it has grown since the last time you saw it like this. they love how your hair now floats around you. they don’t love how sore their arms are. “damn, no wonder you’re so strong.”

connie, PORCO, BERTHOLDT, armin, miche, MARCO (probably cries when the comb extension breaks in your hair)

the beauty supply runs – the simultaneously dull and fluorescent lighting casts an otherworldly glow over the aisles of gel, deep conditioner, kankelon hair, and wig glue. for some reason, there’s always a childlike gleam in their eye as they scan the wigs along the wall. you have to hold their hand every time so they don’t wander off. it’s not like the store is big–you could probably read each other’s lips while standing on opposite sides–but if given the freedom to roam, you’d be leaving $250 poorer than you planned for with bags full of stuff you absolutely don’t need. “babe we have matching bonnets, we don’t need them in zebra stripes too.” if you can convince them to stick with you, they’re snatching every bottle you pick up out of your hand. before you can even begin questioning them, they’ve already started reciting information about the ingredients of the products and why it isn’t good for your hair’s porosity. you can only stare dumbly as they hand you a better option to try because you have no idea when they would have had time to do any of this research. the favorite part of the trip for both of you is picking the color you’re doing next. the average passerby would think you’re trying to decide which wire to cut so you don’t detonate a bomb with how hard you both scrutinize the packs of color 30 and 350 in front of you (ginger is always your color)

HANGE, marco, mikasa, ONYANKOPON (will give you the dirtiest look if you so much as glance at a cantu product), pieck

the parting – this is the first step of the actual installation process that you involve them in. before they used to sit next to you on the couch as you did it all yourself, committing every movement your fingers made to memory and keeping you company. they would frown as you cursed your lack of ability to see perfectly behind your head and parted the same section over and over again. they wanted to offer help, they really did, they just didn’t trust themselves enough. so when you both started working from home and you didn’t care what your parts looked like, you let them try. it wasn’t perfect the first time, or the second. for about a month, you rock faux locs with a scalp that looks like the drawing on your fridge gifted to you by your 5 year old nephew, but that’s what beanies are for. rough start aside, they pick up on it quickly. they figure out how much gel you really need for your braids to look neat and don’t overdo it. wielding the comb with confidence, they cut through your hair like butter. soon they’re parting your hair into boxes, hearts, arches, diamonds, and whatever else you could imagine like moses did the red sea. “babe do you think it would look good if i make one of them look like my initials?”

ARMIN, eren, levi, ERWIN, ZEKE, historia (got really good really fast… hisu who do you fuck in the city when i’m not there?), bertholdt

the braid down – they’re in awe of the dexterity of your stylist's fingers as she adds pieces of braiding hair to your own and hardly looks down while nimbly braiding all the way to the ends. they sit through all your appointments–locs, press and curls, protein treatments, wig installs–but nothing fascinates them as much as the art of a simple braid. they ask all sorts of questions about what your stylist is doing and even start putting hair on the rack to make the process go smoother. they pay even more attention when you do it yourself because they aren’t worried about distracting anyone from doing their job. before long, they know almost everything there is to know about your braids except for how to do them. and they want to know so badly. the opportunity arises when you both relocate to a new city and all the “stylists” are charging $300+ for smedium mid-back knotless braids. you’d do it yourself, but you broke two fingers during the move-in process and aren’t skilled enough to work around it. you think you need to coach them through the process, but are pleasantly surprised when they get the grip right the first time and are halfway down by the time you’ve picked what movie trilogy you want to watch. turns out they’d been watching youtube videos and taking lessons from your old stylist so they could do it for you one day. at least that’s what they tell you, they really just like popping your head with the comb when you move from where they positioned it. “ow! stop pushing my head around” “keep your head still and i’ll think about it”

LEVI, yelena, YMIR (does the thing where she talks on the phone with it tucked in between her shoulder and her ear while braiding at top speed, like just put it on speaker), onyankopon, mikasa, armin, ANNIE

the finished product – they are NOT here for delayed gratification. they want to see your hair done and they want to see it now. they get more restless than you do and they’re not the one getting their thoughts and dreams braided for 5 hours. like why are they more upset about the infamous last braid that gets split into 4 more than you are? “man what the fuck are you so upset about? this is not your scalp??” it’s nice having them around regardless. whether or not they’re helping with the actual braiding, they’re your biggest supporter. they’ll grab you (and the stylist if you aren’t doing it yourself) mcdonalds, boil the water to seal your ends, oil your scalp, mousse your hair, trim the flyaways, sweep up the stray hair, etc. knowing how tired you are, all the time consuming clean up is their self-allotted duty. but once all of that is done, they get to do what they’ve been waiting for: admire you. without fail, the second you stand up they’re taking pictures from every angle, showering you with compliments (ginger really is your color), peppering your head with kisses, but most importantly, just looking at how beautiful you are. you outdo yourself every time and they tell you as much, even if it embarrasses you. 

HISTORIA, connie, pieck, hange, SASHA, reiner, JEAN (the heart eyes this man has for you…and don’t get me started on the sketches he makes of you with every new style you get. he is SO whipped)

© mamasbakeria 2023. do not repost, translate (without permission), or modify

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — hockey player!jean can get a lil mean when he loses a game [ ft jean kirstein (kirschtein), modern au, sports au, profanity, mean dom!jean in 4k hd ultra, female anatomy, her/she pronouns, afab, established relationship (reader and jean are married with a child), reader implied to black, creampie, impact play, oral ( f.receiving), slight spit kink, spanking, breeding kink, pet name usage (good girl, babygirl) he's just a lil salty he lost a game, visuals at the end, wc: 2.2k , minors dni pls, ]

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WHEN JEAN LOST A GAME, YOU ALWAYS SEEMED TO WALK ON EGGSHELLS. The nicely decorated home seem to grow silent as a mouse when your family entered the mansion. Your son seemed to fall asleep during the long ride from the ice rink to the house, which you only tucked him in his bed after stripping him out of his clothes. Neatly folding up the hockey jersey with his father's number on it and placing it away, you placed a loving kiss on top of his sandy brown colored curls before exiting the room. You were sure to close the door behind you since you weren't sure how Jean was going to react due to the loss of the game.

When Jean's team lost, he grew quiet. A little too quiet. His interviews with ESPN and other sports outlets weren't as cheerful and confident. You could literally see the frustration and sadness in his light brown hues. The rides home are always silent other than the questions your five-year-old would ask randomly. As a new wag (an obnoxious term for wives & girlfriends of sports players), you always ask the other partners how exactly do they handle the huge losses.

Eren's wife Emilia would only shrug, mumbling about how Eren usually forgets about the loss after a day or two before he's back on the ice perfecting any screw-ups he made during the game. While Connie's girlfriend CJ would make a subtle joke about giving him head after the game to make him forget about the disappointing end of the hockey team's season.

You walked towards the master bedroom of your home, your body leaning against the door frame as you're watching Jean tug off the Grey Nike sweatshirt he wore. He tossed it in the laundry hamper in the corner of your room, now only in a white wifebeater. His toned armed flexed with each movement he made as he shuffled around the room. Occasionally his gold link chain with your initials and the two of your son's initials moved with each quick motion he did.

"Do you want to talk about it? I know it was such an important game," Your tone was soft-spoken and came out as if you were whispering.

"Strip." was the only thing Jean uttered as he was undoing the string on his Nike jogger pants.

Your lip gloss-covered lips parted to speak, but in the back of your mind, you were just thinking about making Jean happy. He was going through some wild emotions at the moment and who were you to object against them. They lost the opportunity to compete for the Stanley Cup, so you knew the man in front of you was seeing complete red at the moment.

"Keep my jersey on though. Everything else off." He huffed.

You only stepped further inside the room, your back backing into the door to close it just so you won't wake up your son. Your fingers begin to unbutton the jeans you were wearing, slowly tugging them off your smooth legs. Soon your panties joined them also as Jean's index finger motioned for you to come here. Each step you took, you could feel the cool breeze in your room hit your bare bottom and it sent a chill down your spine.

When you were face to face with Jean, he didn't say much. However, you could feel how hot he was. How frustrated he was. One harsh push on your king-sized bed caused your lips to let out a gasp. Your body hitting the bed like a fragile lil doll that Jean wanted to play with. He's grabbing a hold of your ankle that was decorated with the gold anklet with his name on it with a cursive font. His lips placed soft kisses on the inside of your ankle causing you to squirm right under his firm touch. You were expecting him to treat you like a fragile rag doll that had just got snitched up. But boy was you wrong. In one motion, he had turned your body around so that you were laying on your stomach, mumbling about how he needed you so badly.

"Be a pretty wife and get on all fours, m'kay," He said lowly.

You did what you were told, getting on all fours. The oversized jersey that formally belonged to Jean raised just a bit to be able to see the cup of your ass. A low yelp tumbled out your mouth when you felt Jean's large hands slap at the flesh of your ass before you could feel his hand massage at the stinging flesh. A sharp hiss came out of you when you felt another slap on the opposite cheek, Jean once again repeating the process of massaging your ass cheeks once again. He's teasingly letting a coo tumble off his lips as you could only stutter out his name like a broken record.

"Just want to taste you real quick," His words came out so soft yet intimidating. He angled your body in such a provocative way, you felt like such a filthy woman. "Just stay like that for me please," he says before his callous fingertips traced alongside your puffy lips. The teasing action caused your skin to be littered with goosebumps.

Once again you desperately coughed up a yelp when you felt him slap at your throbbing cunt that was aching for his attention. The similar motion he did with your asscheek, Jean's multimillion-dollar massaged at your pussy. This time your wetness coating his fingers ever so negligibly. "You like it when I do that huh?" He asked.

He didn't wait for you to respond before he's kneeling to taste you. The flat of his tongue collided with your puffy lips to lick up your juices that formed just by his spankings. A weak whimper came out of you as you seemed to relax in his touch as he was eating you out. When Jean wanted to taste, he wanted to taste every fiber of you. Practically burying his face in the messiness in between your thighs which caused your toes to curl.

"Jean." You moaned out as you felt him glide his tongue up your slit. The lewd sound of him slurping up the mess he was making bounced off the bedroom walls. You could feel the sharpness of his nose poking you from the back, the man practically was devouring you at the moment. You were so close to breaking the perfect arch, but you knew what consequences were to come.

"Fuck." You moaned before you were reaching out clawing at his sandy brown hair. Your fingers grabbed a hold of his hair as you rocked backward upon his kitten licks. Your orgasm was right there, you were so close to the finish line while your knees were growing hazy.

But Jean soon pulled away, letting your body fall limp like a deflated balloon that's lost all its air. Your poor cunt felt like it was pulsing, your orgasm was snatched away from you and the lump of pleasurable despair disappeared.

"I can't have you cummin' just yet baby girl," Jean commented. The little facial hair he had was stained with your juices. His upper lip lingered with your scent and his tongue tasted just like you. Maybe that made the man be in a complete trance all over again.

His grey sweatpants grew tight at the crotch area. His dick was screaming to be released from the tight compress of his sweats and boxers. Jean quickly pushed down his sweats and stepped out of them like an over-enthusiastic virgin that was about to get a spliff of pussy for the first time. His blood was fuming and he still was a bit frustrated because of the loss. Especially considering the number of penalties he racked up during the game. His cock bulged in the black-colored Ethika boxers (another sponsorship he received for singing a multimillion-dollar contract) before he's tugging them down also. His thick cock tapped at his toned torso when his boxers came down also.

Once again he's grabbing onto you like a doll, dragging your whithering body towards the end of the bed. His hand firmly pushed on your lower back to make sure your arch was perfect. It was a wonderful sight to see his beautiful wife completely exposed like this to him. A lovely ass up face down position just so he can have his way with him.

You were anticipating for Jean to shove his cock inside you. Despite it being the same dick you've rode, sucked, choked on, and the list goes on, you still found yourself chewing your lower lip off at adjusting to his girth. He was a grower for sure with a slight curve that could kiss at that spot that caused your pedicures toes to curl. Your favorite part of his dick was his tip. It was a splendid sight when you would climb under the covers to suck him off when he was complaining about morning wood. It was a nice mushroom shape with a slit that gushed out so much cum when he wanted to.

"You know if you relax. You'll get used to it quicker." Jean suggested. With his slender digits climbing up the jersey you had to undo the bra you were wearing.

With quickness, you're removing your bra tossing it to the side with ease. Your hips bucking to receive any form of friction between Jean and yourself, but you could only feel his tip tap at your sopping entrance. "Don't be so fuckin' rude, and wait," Jean uttered as he grabbed a hold of his cock. He rubbed his tip at your entrance. Teasing you bit by bit before he's pooling all of the spit in his mouth and letting it drop down on his cock. His hand stroked his dick quickly before he once again was poking at your entrance.

"You want to make me feel better after that horrible game right?" Jean questioned.

You only nod as you were on all fours, your fingers grasping at the sheets below you before your mouth gasped apart feeling him stretch you out. He didn't even wait until you adjusted to his huge size before he was pushing himself inside you like a madman. His hands grasping at your asscheeks just to feel upon you a little more. His thrusts weren't the usual slow and passionate filled, they were harsher. He was genuinely fucking you like he hated you. Like it was your fault that the team was two points short of going to the play for the Stanley Cup. You could only let out poor pathetic moans, moaning out for Jean.

"That's a good fuckin' girl, you're taking my dick so well," Jean uttered as his hips bucked forward into the plush of your ass. His eyes glowed in excitement at the sight of your pretty pussy swallowing him with each thrust. The mixture of your wetness and his spit he coated on his coat imprinted on your thighs like a nasty masterpiece.

He had one hand holding your back down, while the other was grasping at the hockey jersey that had his last name paced on it. He gripped the jersey severely to have some form of control over his brass thrusts. Ignoring your whimpers for him to slow down or you were going to cum.

"Don't cum." Jean uttered out.

His words came out more like a command, a dangerous warning that you wanted to poke at until he exploded.

"Please Jean..." You whined into the pillow, which at this point was stained with your own drool and tears.

"What did I say, hm?" He questioned. His right hand slapped at your ass cheek causing you to let out a whine.

"Don't...cum," You hiccupped between moans.

Jean would only hum in agreement. His hips irrationally bottomed down inside your dripping cunt before he pinned your arms behind your back. The tight grip he had on you caused you to chew at your lip as if it was some form of chew toy. "We'll cum together like it's supposed to fuckin' be," He commented.

You felt so lightheaded at the intense amount of stimulation upon your body. Your limbs felt like they were screaming for you to relax and the burning sensation that was bubbling in the pit of your stomach was ready to burst.

Jean's hold he had on your folded arms only grew tight with each shove forward into your pussy. He could feel his balls grow heavy each time he tapped at that one spot that caused your eyes to cruise in the back of your head. Jean's eyes were shifted closed as he was so pussy drunk, the harsh groan that grumbled off the back of his neck caused his adam's apple to move. His thick white cum filled you up to the brim, as you moaned through the sensation. Jean brought the ends of his wifebeater up to his teeth, nibbling at the ends as he rocked you on his cock slowly. He could feel your pussy pulsing around his cock milking him of every droplet of his cum. His brown hues practically glistened at the creamy sight of a white ring around his cock with each slow thrust.

When he pulled out slowly, letting the hold he had on you go and watching you collapse breathlessly on your stomach. His fingers combed through his hair that seemed to stick to his forehead due to the intense workout.

"I feel much better now baby, thank you."

song + visuals — visuals

✧˖*°࿐ TAGS — @misss-chrisss @gabzlovesu @fiona782 @warmchick @fairiechuu @itzgabz22 @etherealluvrr @caribbeanwifey19 @gardenof-venus @indiecursor @thicksimpx @luffysthickwaifu @godessofbucky @maydayaisha @chieflawyerpastatoad @plussizeficchick @littlemochi @celi-xxmoon @queenmjp @po3ticb3auty @sunkissedebony97 @gaiasmight @babe-im-bi @sakusakwiyoomi @rinhoes @caramelanins @maideneyes @thenerdyrebel @reiners-milkbiddies @babyyblueey @woahhajime @sleepy3 @leviackermanst @goldenmnr @moonphase94 @yooniluvbot444 @daichisbunny @sakurazuko @protectpancakes @xsweetdellzx @suspirihah @yeagerfushiguro @minniecums @serotoninaf @greattragedy @sal3m-is-lon3ly @pweetchimilk ( also thanks to @nahoyassss & @kemakoshume for the names )