Attack on Titan One Shots

Jean x Reader : Thoughts at Two in the Morning

It was pretty cold on that day.  It was depressing also.  My dad slept with another woman, my mom's gone mad, and my older brother ran away with his girlfriend.  My best friend stopped talking to me when I told her not to date that guy.  All in one day... I decided to go to the mall to cheer myself up because well, I love cute clothes.  I was feeling okay until I met you.

We met at the food court.  You were getting your coffee, I was getting my hot cocoa.  Man, I remember when I accidentally spilled it all over your shirt.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry!" I said as I grabbed a bunch of napkins and wiped them on your shirt.

You looked down at me and chuckled, "It's alright, no need for you to get your hands on me."

I paused and thought about what I was doing.  I'm going to be honest, I was completely satisfied touching your chest.  If only the shirt and the napkins weren't in the way...

"Right, right..." I replied and threw the wet napkins away, "Sorry again."

And then you gave me that killer smile.  It melts me every time.  "What's your name?  You look kinda familiar," You asked.

"[Y/N].  I-I don't think we've met before," I said as I looked down, blushing.

And then you introduced yourself, "I'm Jean.  You're pretty cute, [Y/N]."

"Well that's a first.  Thank you for brightening up my day," I looked up to you and flashed a smile.  I don't know why, but you seemed to like it.

We ended up sitting at a table, talking for hours and hours and hours to the point where the mall's about to close.  I forgot what I was supposed to do over there.  You were pretty much the highlight of my day... or my night.  I told you about the depressing things that have happened to me on that day, and you said to me:
"Becareful of love," and you laughed, "It'll fucking make your mind become sad and twisted."

I wasn't sure if that love from my family members affected me.  Apparently, you affected me very much.  Just be happy that I'm not sad and my mind isn't twisted.

Anyways, you told me about your life and yourself.  I listened to every word that came out of your lips.  We got to know each other, and I didn't believe when you said that you liked the same singer that I liked until you asked me out on a concert date.  I had to say yes.

We exchanged numbers, and said goodbye to each other.  As I got home, my stomach was filled with butterflies and my heart was beating very very fast.  I was squealing when my face crashed into my pillow.  I barely slept.  Thank you, Mr. Jean Kirschtein, for positively ruining my life, and I love you for that.

The both of us went out almost every week ever since you asked me to be your girlfriend.  Oh! I remember the time when  you were ashamed to introduce me to your mother at the dinner table.  It was hilarious!

"Every night, when it's time for supper, Jean kept begging me to make his favorite omelettes for him!  Are you a good cook?" She asked.

I nodded, "Yeah!"

Your mother smiled, "Great!  Jean definitely needs a wife who can cook for him."

And then you snapped, "Mom, stop!  Please!  I'm not even 24 yet!"

"Ah, so that's when my Jean boy wants to get married!" She joked.

I teared up a bit when I noticed how close you were close to your mother.  I envied you for that.  I was pretty close to my best friend and brother, but they all ran away.  Thank God, I have you and your loving mother in my life.

Years and years have passed, and I couldn't believe it.  We were still together even though we had our ups and downs.  I remember you telling me that love is like a rollercoaster and that it'll never end until it breaks.

"[Y/N]!" You yelled from the kitchen, "Who the fuck is Eren?!"

I forgot to mention that you get jealous quite easy.

"My ex from middle school!" I yelled from the other room.

"Can you tell him to stop sending you these 'I want you back' messages?!"

"No," I teased.

"It's driving me crazy!  ...Are you using me to get your ex back?!"

"Perhaps," I joked.  To be honest, I find it funny seeing you mad.  I really need to stop.

"I swear to God, [Y/N], if this is a sick joke, I am done with you!"

I came out of the room and "surrendered" with both of my hands up, "Alright, alright... I'll tell him," I sang.

After I texted the ex to stop, you were thinking of a way to "punish" me.  Thank God, your mother wasn't home.  Looked like we had our first.  I still don't believe that was your first.  You're too good.  The scratches on your back lasted for five days.

And so, months later, you popped up the question.  You took me out to a fancy 5 star restaurant.  The two of us were chatting and eating our expensive food.

"So, thought about going to the town's ball?"  You asked.

You knew how I hated balls.  It brings me the saddest memories.  "No way."

"Aw, we had our first sex, but not our dance?  Something's not right... " You teased.  Goddamnit.

I shushed you, "Not over here! Besides, you were the one who wanted to punish me!"

"Great, so sex over dance?"

"No."

You got out of seat, kneeled on your left knee, and pulled out a ring from your sleeve, "Will you marry me?"

Everyone around us turned their heads and waited for me to answer.  I stood up and was too surprised to answer.  Who in the world would want to marry me?

I nodded a "yes," and you slipped the ring on my finger.  The applause in the restaurant was so loud and the sound of silverware lightly hitting on glass was everywhere.

You lifted my feet off the ground and spinned me around.  My arms were sliding over your shoulders and around your neck.  Our foreheads were lightly against each other, and you gave me a soft, warm, peck on my lips.

You whispered besides my ear, "Now we'll have our first dance after we plan our wedding."

And so, we had our wedding, got married, and our photobook explains it.

Jean, if you're reading this, I love you.  Like really, I love you.  I don't regret spilling my hot cocoa on you when we first met.  Otherwise, we wouldn't be where we are right now.  You make me happy than anyone else, and I'm the best me when I'm with you.  Your laugh, voice, smile... I've fallen for those.  Every time you hold me, I always feel protected.  Heck, your hands fit in mine like they're made just for me.

But yeah, it's two in the morning.  You're currently sleeping on your stomach... shirtless.  And here I am, writing this.  I need to go to sleep.  Your hand is tugging onto my pajama top.  I'll probably leave this in the kitchen tomorrow morning to brighten up your day and wake you up about two hours early since you tend to read things like these over and over again.