vexatious ⸝⸝ jean kirstein

three ⸝⸝ ranch

- September 7th, Friday.

(y/n) decided to text Jean and tell him to come to her dorm room instead of her going to his smelly flat. As she warms some pizza pockets in the microwave, willing her headache away, Mikasa pads into the kitchen, wearing a crop top, short shorts and a full face of light makeup. She gives (y/n) a small smile as she ties her hair back with a red hair tie.

"Going somewhere?" (y/n) asks Mikasa teasingly. She shakes her head in response, "no, just wanted to feel cute."

"You should always feel cute," (y/n) giggles, her (e/c) eyes meeting Mikasa's grey ones for a split second, making (y/n)'s heart jump to her throat.

"You think I'm cute?" Mikasa murmurs, staring down at the floor, but (y/n) couldn't tell if her cheeks were actually reddening or if it was the makeup she wore.

(y/n) nods in response, averting her gaze to the microwave. She opens the small door when it beeps and removes her pizza pockets, offering one to Mikasa. She gladly takes one and grabs ranch from the fridge, drizzling it all over her pizza pocket. (y/n) admired Mikasa's love for ranch, she ate it with almost everything.

Mikasa stares at (y/n) as she ate her pizza pockets in silence, but it was never awkward between (y/n) and Mikasa, they'd known each other for so long that they didn't even have to communicate with words any longer. They would just give each other a look and know what's going on.

When (y/n) moved into her dorm at Paradis Academy from (your country) and was coincidentally paired with Mikasa, her childhood friend, she was delighted. She thought she'd never see Mikasa again after her parents passed away and the Jeager family adopted her and moved away.

A knock at the door interrupted the duos' moment and Mikasa decided to open the door, but (y/n) already knew it was Jean. He strutted into the flat, cigarette pack in hand. "Don't smoke here," (y/n) glared daggers at him as soon as he entered.

"What happened to hi, how are you? Is this who we are?" Jean rolled his eyes, pocketing his cigarettes and dropping his bag on the coffee table in front of the single couch in the living room.

(y/n) finished her dinner and walked to sit down beside him, ordering him to take out his textbooks. This time, she made sure to actually tutor him like Shadis told her to. She ordered him to read the lessons in the textbooks and every so often, Jean would poke (y/n), who was on her phone, to ask her about something he didn't understand.

She was convinced he had zero braincells.

After an hour of studying, (y/n) decided to get up and go to the kitchen for a drink. She pulled out her favorite juice from the juice and realized Mikasa was sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging her legs back and forth as she listened to music on her phone. It was so loud, (y/n) could hear Brendon Urie's voice despite Mikasa's headphones.

(y/n) reached above Mikasa to open a cupboard and retrieve two glasses for herself and Jean, causing Mikasa to lean forward, close to (y/n)'s face. The both of them felt heat rush to their face at their proximity and (y/n) poured two glasses.

For some reason, she was feeling a tension between her and Mikasa she had never felt before. Despite seeing Mikasa's body bare before, seeing her bare thighs and her slightly toned torso today made her feel fuzzy inside. Was she starting to like Mikasa?

Mikasa bit her lip, staring at (y/n), who cleared her throat and carried the glasses out of the kitchen back to Jean but basking in the feeling she felt for her best friend. She liked it. It felt nice.

She set down the juice in front of Jean, who looked at (y/n) up and down with a confused expression. "I hate this," he crinkles his nose in disgust, but grabs the glass and drinks from it anyway. Jean was a confusing person to (y/n).

(y/n) unlocked her phone, clicking on the notifications from the groupchat that she had been ignoring for so long. It was dead right now, the latest messages had been an argument between Reiner and Ymir about who loves Historia the most. (y/n) sighed and turned off her phone, turning her attention to Jean, who was reading a textbook patiently while sipping on the juice (y/n) had brought him from the kitchen.

(y/n) resisted the urge to run back to the kitchen as Jean asked her a question. "How do you write a thesis again?" He murmurs under his breath.

"Are you serious?" (y/n) glares at him. "Don't you learn that in like seventh grade?"

"Yeah, well," Jean gave (y/n) an awkward smile. "I cheated my way through school so far," he admits with a shrug.

"Just tell your dad to buy you a degree and diploma then," (y/n) says. "Would save us both time." She grumbles under her breath grumpily.

"Nah, you're just too lazy to actually tutor me." Jean turns his head to glare at (y/n). "Is that it? Or maybe you're just too dumb." Jean sneers.

"Uh, no," (y/n) laughs nervously. "No, that's not it. I just prefer not being around you." She says in the same tone as Jean. "Doesn't mean I'm dumb."

"Bitch, don't start with me," Jean growls, leaning closer to (y/n).

"You started with me," (y/n) growls back. "I was giving you advice, donkeyface."

"Donkeyface?"

(y/n) hadn't intended to use it, it just slipped out of her mouth in the moment. It was too late to take it back now, though, so she just shrugged and went along with it.

"At least I don't look as fat as a cow," Jean sneers. "Plus I can smell your stinky pussy all the way here."

"Must be your own breath, hun," (y/n) sasses. "Cause as far as I know, I'm the more hygienic one out of the two of us. Remind me again, who cleaned your musty room? Oh yeah, me!"

Jean looked taken aback by the usually reserved girl's outburst, but he smirked, enjoying the reaction he was seeking. "Yeah? At least I don't braid my armpit hair like a dumb feminist."

"What the fuck?" (y/n) marveled at his bad insult.

"Now you're gonna go on a rant about what feminism is actually about, aren't you? Shut up already, faggot." Jean sneers.

"Refrain from using that word unless you're my friend," (y/n) warned.

"You literally have like two friends, faggot," Jean emphasizes the word that ticked (y/n) off. She didn't like being called that, it reminded her of her parents' homophobic tendencies towards her.

"Better than having a whole group full of fake friends," (y/n) argues. "If you can even call them friends. Go fuck yourself, virgin."

"Dumb whore."

"Slut."

"Faggot."

"Stupid bitch."

"Crawl back up your mother's vagina."

"Dumb whore!" Jean exclaimed again.

"You already said that!" (y/n) yells at the top of her lungs, her irritation growing more and more vile as the seconds passed. "At least change your insults up, boring fuck! No wonder nobody likes you, especially your parents!"

The now-empty glass Jean was holding broke in his hands, shards flying onto the carpet following by drops of blood from Jean's hand. "Ugh, look what you did, (y/n)," Jean rolls his eyes at the metallic liquid seeping out of his hand. "Happy now?" He waves his hand in the air, hissing at the pain.

Before (y/n) could process what was happening, Jean leaned over and tugged (y/n)'s sweatshirt up, revealing some of her torso, as he cleaned his blood of his hands with her shirt. Then, he gathered his belongs and rushed out of the flat to get to his dorm, almost tripping over nothing on his way.

(y/n) sat on the sofa, staring at the door Jean had left opened on his way out, her mind blank. She shrugged and went to her room to get some sleep. Despite the argument that just took place, (y/n) looked forward to spending her day on the beach with her new friends.