AOT COLLEGE AU
Transferring to Trost University was either the best or worst decision of your life. Getting thrown into a dysfunctional friend group during sophomore year can definitely change things up.
A story in which you deal with the bullshit and harsh reality that undergrad is. The love, pain and of course partying that comes with being a youth. Long story short,
In which Jean and Eren fight over the girl oblivious to their feelings: you.
And shit hits the fan, in just a short amount of time.
Content 18+, Mature through smut, excessive drug use, general adult themes & major character death.
If reading about drugs freaks you out. If you are unable to read about loss due to extensive drug use. Don't read this.
Comments, Shares, Favorites go a long way. If you can as you go, I thank you from the bottom of my entire being.
Tiktok: ercthesloth
🖤erc
Jean x Reader | Eren x Reader
Respectfully, an Absolute Mess
December 29, 2021
You never had expected this year to turn out like this.
Never did you think that the last remaining days of such a chaotic semester could turn so rotten. Nor did you ever think a single semester could end with such damage done.
You didn't want to ring in the new year this way, no one did. But it was here in your shared home that you and your friends sat, crowded as usual on the large couch. However now instead of the usual laughter, the shared nights of drinking and games - you all sat in silence.
Such a vile silence that all you wanted to do was scream.
You sat next to Eren, who was restless. The long haired boys legs bounced up and down, a result of the anxious feeling he was harboring deep down. He hadn't been able sit still all day. His mind was frozen with shock, but his body unable to do the same. With every jostle of his jittery limbs his thighs bumped against your own. You found yourself beginning to mimic his actions - absentmindedly, of course. Up and down your legs went, quicker than his. Your twitching thighs matching the beating of your heart.
Last week you all had been planning a New Years Eve Party. It was the first year that you would celebrate here at Trost. But now?
Now you were all silently sitting around, no party in foresight, with absolutely no sense of holiday spirit. You were two days away from the new year, yet it didn't feel that way.
The time for loving celebration between family and friends was destroyed by a loss greater than any other. New Years, although it hand't happened yet, was already in ruins. Christmas Day would never be the same. What happened on Christmas should never happen to anyone - you wouldn't even wish that on your worst enemy- yet for you and your friends- it did happen.
It was completely, utterly, and absolutely horrid.
Never would you forget what happened the morning of December 25, 2021.
You hadn't eaten in days, as every time you ate you threw it right back up. You felt feint, weak and everything seemed to piss you off. Irritated, agitated and flat out depressed is how you felt every minute since that day. Since that phone call. It was as if every waking second of your life since then was a cruel joke someone was playing on you.
However, all that surrounded the incident was very real. You toyed with the idea that you were living in a false reality, that this was all some sort of vile lucid dream, but as the days went on you realized that you unfortunately were not.
Looking around the room you scanned your friends faces. Eyes void of emotion, drained of their humanity. Bodies exhausted from restless nights, from hours spent crying, heaving, throwing up - every form of grieving imaginable. Calling your friends Zombies at this point would be too kind of a description. They looked empty. They felt empty.
"This...this fucking sucks." Connie finally spoke up, saying the words that you all were thinking. He stood behind the kitchen counter, staring at the group of you on the couch, the boy having gotten up to get himself a glass of water. The dark bags under his eyes indicated that he was just as exhausted as you - if not more. He was one of the ones who had it the worst. Jean too. "This really fucking sucks." He repeated, this time to himself. But it was so quiet in the room, that of course you all heard. He sighed into the glass before he brought it to his lips and took a long, slow sip.
In response to his truthful words, scattered sighs echoed around. All of you agreeing with the statement.
Yes.
Yes, this really fucking sucked.
More silence followed, no one daring to speak. But it was soon cut off by another brave soul, who instead of using her words decided to act. And in this case, the action spoke much louder than words.
It was Ymir, who stood up from her spot on the couch. It was Ymir who shuffled on over to the kitchen. It was Ymir who then opened up a cabinet, crouched down to the floor, and shoved her hand inside - reaching for something in the very far back.
Everyone in the room eyed her, curious to what she was trying to accomplish. Brains raking the possibilities of what she was searching for.
When her arm came out, in her hand an unopened glass bottle filled with clear liquid, everyone seemed to understand what she was doing. Eyes followed her as she delicately closed the cabinet, turned on her heel, and walked back into the living area. She walked back to where everyone sat and placed the bottle of expensive liquor down on the table that resided in the middle of the couch unit. The bottom of it clanked as it hit the plank of worn wood. Then she sat right back down where she had been previously, as if nothing had happened.
Your eyes flickered to her, trying to get a read on her emotionless face. But she stared at the bottle, ignoring the few sets of eyes that followed in suit. So you drifted your eyes down to the girl she sat next to, who as soon as Ymir sat back down had reached out with her fingers and gripped the fabric at the waist of her sweatshirt.
Historia was holding on for comfort. The most optimistic and genuinely good one out of you had been unable to crack a smile for days.
Another sigh escaped your lips, and when you decided you had enough of looking at the two girls, your eyes wandered down to the new centerpiece on the table. Longingly, you gazed at the bottle that sat directly in the center of your shattered friend group. You wanted nothing more to open it up and chug enough down so you could forget who you were at the moment. Forget where you were. Forget everything.
You stopped shaking.
Without thinking, you copied the actions of the petite blonde and your fingers found themselves wrapped around the hem of a pair of cloth shorts. They gripped so hard on the soft fabric that the boy felt not just the feeling of your fingers brushing against his lower thigh, but he felt the tight tug on his bottoms too.
Eren stopped shaking as well, staring down at your hand. One of the first intimate touches you had given him since that day. Something snapped in his mind, but he didn't dare push your fingers away.
Eren's nostrils flared at the bottle, his dark green eyes darting between it and Ymir. He spat, "-is this necessary?" He motioned to the bottle, careful not to move too much. He didn't want you to pull away. If anything, he wanted you closer.
Ymir's void eyes locked on his. "Just thought some of us might need it, asshole." She hissed back.
"Do-" Eren's aggressive retaliation was held back by an arm slotting itself in front of his chest, it forcefully pushed him back into couch. He huffed loudly, like a scolded dog.
You watched as Armin leaned forward, toward Eren's ear. He removed his arm as he quietly whispered to him. All to help him calm down, anything to make the hothead calm down.
You were shocked when he actually listened, although lately Armin had been very good at taming the moody boy. Eren hung his head down, his long hair framing his face. The strands of it that had fallen from the tied back part dangling down - hiding the dull nature of his usual bright green eyes. You knew his gaze landed on where your fingers still remained, so you kept them there. No longer for your own comfort, but his.
Armin let out a soft sigh of relief, glad that he didn't have to do anything more to control Eren's temper. The common crisis of Eren acting without thinking was averted, for today at least.
The room became silent again after that, the bottle placed on the table still untouched.
You still wanted to take a massive drink from it. You wanted to be the one to reach out, crack it open, and drown your body with the putrid taste of liquor. What better way to forget than to flood your mind with drunken bliss? What better way was there to get your body to finally feel?
You daydreamed for a moment - idealizing a black out. You would wake up at the start of the semester, and all of this would have been a bad dream. A nightmare that you could come back from.
You thought about drinking until your body couldn't take anymore. Drinking until you didn't wake up at all. An easy cure for the pain in your chest. The easiest way to end this living hell. Where all of you stuck were at the very center of the inferno, with no escape. Succumbing to what fate had in mind.
This wasn't fair.
The bottle was tempting. But you did not give in. It was bait, and you would not be the first fish take a bite. You had to face the reality of life. Drinking yourself into to an early grave would not be good answer to your problems.
Silence resumed, and all continued to mindlessly exist.
Minutes passed, although it seemed like hours, and the room began to feel like it was a million degrees. You felt like you were overheating, your body was sweating and a queasy sensation in your stomach began to form.
You debated leaning back and resting your eyes for a few moments to settle the upset, but you chose human comfort instead. You leaned your head to the side - and softly you placed it on Eren's shoulder, closing your eyes to hopefully fall asleep from your exhaustion. You felt him twitch underneath you, shocked by your sudden touch. His tense body relaxed after a moment, the boy angling his shoulder down so you would be more comfortable.
With your eyes squeezed shut, the sick feeling dissipated. You still felt warm though, but it was tolerable now. You let out a sigh. Your brain was tired, your voice was fried and your eyes burned from the tears that had fallen from them. You had sobbed every day since Christmas and every night you cried and cried until your over-exhausted body passed out from fatigue. You were a mess.
Exhaustion was finally getting the better of you - and you welcomed it with open arms. You had almost drifted off, Eren's shoulder being quite comfortable. His chest was slowly rising and falling, his own rhythmic breathing was helping you calm down. He was always so good at that - calming you down. Being there for you.
A rustle of fabric had your eyes fluttering open, and out of the corner of them you saw Jean pull something out from his sweatpants pocket and bring it toward his lips. The object was long, matte black, and most importantly; not his.
Your blurred vision became crystal clear as your brain processed what he was about to do. The tired hazy eyes you had just had now locked onto the actions of the tall boy.
That wasn't a vape, it was a cart. It was their's.
Was this a fucking joke? Was Jean really pulling that out at a time like this? Knowing what had happened? Was he serious right now?
His eyes closed for a moment as he pressed the glowing green button and took a slow drag. He only opened them to watch what he exhaled out, his amber eyes hazed over, staring at the vapors that cascaded around his face. He was in his own world, sitting alone in the massive bean bag chair. Lost. He was so lost.
His eyes eventually met your own, like he could tell you were staring - glaring. He looked like a hollow shell of the man you once knew. You missed him.
You and him hadn't had a real conversation in days. You and him hadn't been normal for weeks. You missed him.
But in this very moment, you pushed away the longing for the past and let rage consume you. You continued to glare, your eyes quickly going between his own and the pen.
Jean payed no mind, if he did understand your gesture, he didn't do anything to remedy the situation. He blankly stared back at you, like he had no idea who you were. Like he was looking through you, not at you. Like he had forgotten the past few months.
It hurt.
You wanted to scream at him. Tell him to realize what was going on, to open his fucking eyes. To notice everyone else, to finally feel something other than the numb pain that loss overwhelms the body with.
Your body acting before mind - you lunged forward, vision blurring out entirely. The comfort of Eren leaving your side.
The couch around you turned hazy, your friends dark shadows in your sudden movement. The only thing you felt was the soft fabric of a cotton sweatshirt, and the pain in your fingertips from gripping it so hard. The only thing you heard besides a high pitched ringing was your name being shouted out and a tight grip yanking the collar of your shirt back.