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Jean Kirstein who is obsessed with boobs... he holds them when you cuddle, not even in a sexual way. He just likes that they are warm and squishy. Appreciates the warmth of your skin and the softness of the mounds. If they're big or small or anything in between, Jean is using them as a pillow when you cuddle.
Jean Kirstein who is a fiend for nipples. Always trying to suck on them when you cuddle. You'll be hugging and he'll mouth at your nipples over your top regardless of your sex. Loves to suck them absentmindedly... it brings him peace. Plays with them like it's second nature; tweaking them like the strings of a guitar.
Jean Kirstein who is obsessed with your lips. If you have an oral fixation he's in heaven because it's delightful for him to watch you suck on things. Creamsicles, candy, (his) cock... but his favorite thing by far is his fingers in your mouth. Loves when you swirl your tongue around his digits and give him a lovestruck smirk. The way your eyes shine in the dim lighting of his dorm room. You're so sheepish and sweet while acting so perverse. It's so cute. His thumb rests against your cheek as you taste his thick, metal rings and feel the callouses from him playing the guitar.
Jean Kirstein who makes you sing every time you're riding his cock because your moans are music to his ears. Even if you're banging backstage he won't muffle your moans. If you aren't whimpering and whining and wailing while he fucks you he may as well not be fucking you in his opinion. Those noises boost his ego and he can't get enough of those wanton whimpers and those shaky sighs. Adores the way your diaphragm jumps when he smacks your clit while his massive hands grab at your hips, bouncing that pussy he treasures on his cock.
Gosh, Jean Kirstein who grows carnal when he sees marks on you. His marks. Jean will never hurt you; he hates seeing you hurt. But seeing the crescents he left on your hips when you were riding him like a horse? Tracing his fingers along the bruises on your waist from how tightly he held you during missionary? Licking at the choker of hickies around you neck? Jean Kirstein always has room for another round when he's reminded of how physically feral he is for you. How captivated he is by your personality, your habits, your body. He adores you and seeing that you're his — no one else's — has his dick hard and his heart full.
Also your pussy full of his cum... #1 guaranteed way to get a creampie from Jean! He'll watch his cum pool out of your pretty pussy, fighting the urge to lick you clean. Jean will watch mesmerized by that cute cunt before he kisses your cheek and begins his elaborate, attentive aftercare routine.
Speaking of marks, Jean Kirstein cannot handle when you wear lipstick or gloss with pigment. His head below the belt does most of the thinking when he sees that pigment punctuating your lips. The cracks of your lips, if they're accentuated by the color, he's absolutely going to be kissing you. Biting your bottom lip between his while trying not to fucking groan at the sight. If you kiss and his lips get covered in the makeup? He's going to absolutely be turned on. So turned on his pants have a tent and it hurts. He'll pepper kisses all across your face, leaving faint lipstains on your face, and then get a fresh supply of color from your pretty, plump lips. Then he'll worship your body, giving each spot a stamp of approval and adoration with your go-to lipstick shade.
Jean Kirstein who wants to be your eye candy. He wants you to proudly sling his arm around your shoulder and parade him around like a prize pony. Wants to be the apple of your eye; the only one you want to be with like this. The only one holding your hand at events and kissing your cheek and making love to you. If you're not proud to be with Jean Kirstein he sees it as a personal failure. Please be kind to him he's so absolutely smitten and you're absolutely his soft spot.
Totally the type of boyfriend to put you on his shoulders during a concert or parade. He'll take the opportunity to squeeze your thighs and grip them tightly, absolutely loving his face between your beautiful legs. He'll kiss your inner thighs on occasion and act all innocent if you reprimand him for doing this in public.
Jean Kirstein is obsessed with PDA. Not even on purpose — unless someone is trying to flirt with you — he just naturally touches you always. A hand on your lower back, a finger hooked onto your belt loops, kisses all over your face and arms and neck. He's full of so much love for you that he just can't contain it sometimes! He'll kiss your fingers and your earlobe and your jawline even if you're actively talking to someone (especially Eren). Not even in a possessive way; boy's just so clingy and touch starved.
Jean, with a Christian mother who had him attend church for years, once feared sex and intimacy. Sometimes when he's in your arms, enjoying that postcoital glow, Jean's reminded of his fear. Not because he's experiencing it again. Because it feels silly. He's never been religious, even as a child attending church with his mother he actively shared his sacrilegious questions about faith. Jean's sharp tongue, his relenting blunt honesty, has landed him "punishment" working in a food pantry and planning Sunday school. He's declared agnostic but when you're in his arms, head against his chest and he can hear the sweet sound of your steady heartbeat, Jean feels like God has rewarded him for something. He doesn't know what but he can't help but feel like a divine power brought you to him in such an intimate, sincere way.
He doesn't believe in God but he doesn't not believe in God. And with you waking up in his arms after he got the honor to worship your body all night, now with you making him breakfast while in his oversized band-tees, Jean wonders how else he could be blessed to such an extent. He's decided if his mom is right and God is real, he'll have to spend the entirety of his afterlife thanking God for getting to be with you.
Jean Kirstein who lets you trace your fingers along his tats. He encourages it. From the stupid tattoos he has from dumb dares with Connie and Sasha, matching lyrics with Eren and Marco, and his favorite Proverbs. Despite not being Christian, this man knows the Bible front and back. If you ever ask him why an agnostic man with religious trauma (he refuses to acknowledge that aloud) has the words of God on his forearm, he'll smile. He'll smile and ruffle your hair and kiss your forehead. It's not a question he'll answer yet, maybe because he doesn't know. Or perhaps it's a secret he needs to rehearse a few more times. Maybe you're not meant to know. But a kiss to your temple is Jean's way of saying "some other time, dove."
Dove, baby, darling, hot stuff, lover, short stack, babygirl, sweet thang — he has so many pet names for his sweet baby. He loves seeing your cheeks flush each time he uses one of those saccharine nicknames for you. They come out of him so naturally too. You're just favorite and he wants you to know it, no doubt.
Jean LOVES when you wear his oversized t-shirts! The way they'll smell like his cologne and swallow your figure and you'll wear them like a minidress... he wants to marry you. If you only ever wore his clothes he'd be the happiest man; he'd be higher than the stars, overjoyed. Jean pretends he's annoyed when you raid his closet but as soon as he sees you, dressed in a faded Metallica shirt he's had since 16, Jean is pulling you into bed. Into bed so he can cuddle you close, run his hands across your stomach, slowly slip that shirt off.
Gosh, loves to make love to you while you're partially clothed too. Seeing you ride his cock while wearing one of his band tees, especially if it's Paradis merch, has Jean infinitely harder. He loves the way it makes him feel like you're his little present that he's just too eager to fully unwrap. There's something about the big fabric swallowing your frame... or maybe how he can actively decide where to put hickies so they're most visible... or maybe it's just the fact it's you wearing his clothes.
On the flip side, he loves seeing you in baby tees and crop tops! A bit of tummy exposed, the indent of collarbone visible, the softness of your skin teasing him... gosh Jean just adores you. He'll rest his head on your stomach, pressing his lips against your belly button, and blow raspberries. He finds it so funny how you whine and tell him to stop (he does it sometimes to wake you up) but then you're giggling and playing with his hair while he does it. Loves the way your stomach ripples when he blows raspberries on it, and the way his massive hands heat up your skin, and the way your belly button is the cutest thing ever.
Jean Kirstein who's such a flirt sometimes.
He'll give you the best oral — your legs twitching with curling toes, throat going dry as your whimpers never end, and your pretty little pussy squirting against his lips — then he'll say "thank you for the meal" with glossy lips and his hands folded over. The first time he said it Jean just wanted to know your reaction. When you pushed his head away with embarrassment and an overstimulated whine he decided it was well worth it.
Now he says it often, almost always, because he is thankful for the meal. Grateful he gets the great honor of kissing your clit and rubbing circles on your inner thighs and lapping at your honeyed folds. Sure, it's a perverse time to say such a thing but Jean ain't lying when he's voicing his appreciating for that cute little cunt...
Jean loves to cook actual meals with you! Is so considerate of your dietary needs. Lactose intolerant? No issue, he knows the best brands of dairy free milk and he'll actively research alternatives. Gluten is a no go? Don't say it twice, he has a ton of mom-blogs he's following to find the best, tastiest food for your needs. Diabetic? Have IBS? Hate certain textures? Eating disorder? Literally doesn't matter what is impeding a "typical" diet, Jean will research and handle picking out actually yummy recipes for you and make them. Why? Because he loves you and loves seeing you eat what he cooks. The type of guy to have a calender in the kitchen where he has printed recipes and the scheduled meals for the week. He finds it fun! His mother raised him to cook and clean; raised Jean to have those hardy and useful skills for living alone.
When Jean was alone he didn't like cooking much. It was survival. Now he had someone who smiles when they see him cooking in the kitchen, kiss his nose between bites of the meal, and helps him clean the dishes. He doesn't like cooking because it's cooking. He loves cooking because it's you he's doing it for.