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⌗ three.

( JEAN KIRSTEIN, AOT )
III. NO-LIMITS ‧₊˚♥︎
0.03 | 4:06 PM | 愛



















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@sashalovemeat don't want to be that person, but how did you get that picture?
@shingekisomessy none of your business. you seen the girl wearing it, or not? 50 dollars cash prize.
@sashalovemeat can i get a chickfila gift card instead? you can load the 50 dollars on it.

@bracefacejada who the fuck?
@birdbowcawcaw ahh 😛 not you
@asapcanrockme LMFAOOOO
@mikasaackerman eren get out of these comments, and answer my texts.
@wockaflocha you prolly too musty for the jersey, ngl.
@wockaflocha deleting my comment cause why nobody liked it? y'all stay hating me for nothing. floch out, fuck y'all.
@gino.49 nigga said floch out, i'm rofl 😭
















˚ ·˚  "jean's jersey?" connie questions aloud, his arms folded behind his head. "i know damn well some bitch ain't wearing it, meanwhile you act like we can't even breathe on it," he continues, popping a fry between his lips. it's from wingstop, and it's seasoned heavenly. wingstop fries are good as fuck when they're fresh, and overcooked just a lil bit.

they're all finished with their classes for the day, but decided to stop by the cafeteria to fill their stomachs. their school has plenty of fast food options on the inside, alongside some healthy choices. jean brought some food from home, which is just a couple of pinwheels and some ranch doritos. "oh shut the fuck up, i only lended her it cause she got pranked by the seniors, and someone stole her shit."

"we know you jean," armin chimes in. "you would've left her to freeze before you gave her your stuff. especially that jersey."

jean thinks they're all being over-dramatic. "nah, for real," eren adds. "she must've been fine as hell. just a hunch, but it wasn't that volleyball player we saw earlier, right?" he's spot on, and it impresses jean as much as it annoys him. if he guessed that easily, it just means jean wasn't exactly discreet when he was practically eye-fucking her earlier.

"it wasn't, right?" connie questions. it's silent for a moment too long, before the table interrupts into cheers. they earn stares from people passing by, and jean quickly shushes them all.

"shut up," he snaps. "she ain't even my type. i just did it because she wouldn't stop blaming me," it's a lie, you never really blamed him in the first place. maybe accused him for a second, but that's about it. "she fell for the label-swap shit, and i happened to be showering at the same time as her." he explains again, for what felt like the hundredth time.

"for real? so you saw her naked?" eren wiggles his brows mischievously. "did you at least hit?"

"like she'd give it up that easily," jean murmurs, popping open his bag of chips. he could tell you weren't that type of girl. "and no, i didn't see anything. by the time we saw one another, she was already wearing a towel, as was i," it's self explanatory. besides, although the idea of you naked sounded promising, jean could never stoop as low as peeking at you without permission. he's a whore, but he damn sure ain't a creep. gross.

"where is she?" armin questions. "when is she giving you back your stuff? doesn't practice start tomorrow for you?" he tilts his head. jean then proceeds to explain his plan to retrieve the jersey tomorrow morning, and everyone at the table nods, agreeing with his plan.

jean's mind couldn't help but wander. well, his plan to find a distraction didn't work; he couldn't get you out of his mind. you're pretty, athletic—your attitude is almost respectable. jean had never met a girl talk back to him the way you did, it was... fresh. you definitely got a bit of a kick to you... whatever lotion you use smelled amazing; is that shea butter?

jean's phone buzzed with a text, snapping him out of his thoughts.









janitor closet hoe 👩🏽‍🦱
who wearing your shit?
onb, answer me jean.









jean blocks her contact, and sighs. connie peeks at his phone, reads the text aloud, and everyone at the table goes "oooh." jean nudged him away, and rolled his eyes. "that's jada, ain't it? honestly can't even blame her, y'all been fucking around for months now and she ain't get to wear it yet."

"why is wearing a jersey so important? it's just a piece of clothing," jean scoffs, pocketing his phone. "doesn't make anyone special, or different. it was an emergency situation, and i gave it to... what's her name?"

connie speaks up. "it's [name]."

even your name is pretty. "yeah, her. besides, she's a bitch, i wouldn't go for her anyway," jean shrugs, biting into his pinwheel, and only speaking again once he's finished swallowing. "she ain't even say goodbye to me after i gave her the jersey."

"everyone knows giving a girl a jersey is like telling everyone else "she's mine," or something," armin explains, shaking his head in disappointment at what jean can assume was his stupidity. "come on jean, i'm not an athlete and even i know this," everyone at the table agrees—even floch, and nobody was talking to his ass.

"well i don't want her," jean defensively says; sick of this conversation. "y'all only saying that because she's cute. how come y'all never assumed i wanted jada?"

"because you never let her wear the jersey," they all say in unison.

"and [name] is fine as shit," floch comments; probably the smartest thing he's ever said.

"and no offense, but jada ain't all that," connie adds, shaking his head. "sex in the janitor's closet is a new kinda low." connie saying this like he didn't give jada his number when he thought jean wasn't looking?

"i'm saying," eren chimes in. "we gon forget i ever asked about it earlier."

was jean giving you the jersey really that big of a deal? you seemed like you wanted nothing to do with him, and he feels the same way. no, he's thinking giving it to you was a mistake... that he doesn't regret entirely? looks like you two will be seeing one another way more often than he thought.


























˚ ·˚. you couldn't find your stuff  for the life of you, and it's really upsetting. like—how far could a damn bag get? it's easily yours, there's a couple of hello-kitty charms, and danglers on the handle. damn, this school really is childish; you might have to wait it out and check lost and found tomorrow.

you head home, and sigh, sitting down on your bed as you stretch your arms. april is with you, and she's been eagerly trying to get the tea from you all day. "so," she starts, turning over to face you. "wanna tell me why you're the trending topic in school?" she questions, with a judgmental smirk "and why you're wearing that big ass blanket?"

you roll your eyes at her for referring to the jersey as a blanket. "i got pranked by some dumb asses," you explain, stepping out of your shoes, and remaining in your socks. "after tryouts, i ended up in the wrong lockeroom, and of course, jean—that hockey player happened to be in the shower stall beside me."

"oh, the label switch?" she scoffs. "classic prank." her eyes light up, and she glances over again. "wait, did you see his dick? was it big? i heard it's pierced." she ain't got no shame, it's kinda sad but also admirable.

"i didn't see anything," you clarify. but i know he's working with something, you think, quickly shaking your head to clear your mind. "but yeah, he was fit as shit. it's like everytime he shifted, his muscles was flexing or something." just the thought of it was enticing—that man was sexy.

"they gon get you," she says. "that nigga got like twenty bitches lined up," she lays her back against your bed, meanwhile you're still looking through your drawers. "and they all want the spot you don't even know you have. and lowkey, you should watch out for mikasa. she broke up with him, but i feel like she still possessive over him. you know, when girls don't want a guy, but they get mad as fuck when another girl does?"

you nod. "yeah, you right," you say, finally finding your pack of pocky. it's strawberry flavored, and you've been thinking about it since that smash or pass game you played alone earlier. "who is this mikasa girl, anyway? i keep hearing bout' her."

"jean's ex, but you prolly know that already," april explains. "asian girl, short bob, and the bitch always mean-mugging somebody, it's kinda tea," she chuckles at that comment. "you'll know her when you see her, trust me. and she on the boxing team, that bitch fight like a damn man." 

you shiver at the thought. "alright, so who she dating right now?"

"eren," she replies. she turns on your television, scrolling through the netlfix options. she stops on "love island," and clicks through the seasons. "a fine ass white boy with green eyes, and brown hair. again, you'll know him when you see him." you actually did see him earlier, in the hallways before you left school to go home.

you just planned on returning the jacket jersey, and pretending jean didn't exist—and you're going to stand on that. all this controversy over a jacket? you're starting to resent jean for ever giving it to you. he had to know this would be the result of it, especially since he's so well known for all the wrong reasons.

tomorrow should be interesting... again, for all the wrong reasons.

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