#also look at the shape of the flowers in the last frame hehe <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lunaekalenda · 3 years ago

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Hi! I'm not sure if your requests are open, but if they are, can I request a Jean x reader angst where they get into an argument and he says something SUPER uncalled for? And reader's all like "wow ok" and walks away bc they don't wanna say anything uncalled for either, but Jean thinks that means reader is breaking up with him? So the next day he does a bunch of cheesy things like buys them breakfast, flowers, writes a tone of love notes, etc?

If your requests aren't open then I understand! And have an AMAZING rest of your day hehe ❤

they are, no worries! i hope you like it! <3

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jean x reader

“You should talk with him...” Jean turns around. His eyes are darker than ever. He’s angry.

“Mind your own business.” he says. You look at him, not flinching even a bit, even knowing you want to cry. His honey color eyes are still fixed on yours, and his breath goes fast. He’s nervous.

“Oh, fine.” you say, taking your jacket and leaving, slamming the door.

“Y/N, wait.” he says, but you’re opening the main door, leaving your shared apartment. He takes his head between his hands, running his hands over his hair. “Fuck.” that’s the only thing that leaves his mouth while he feels how the smell of your cologne disappears quietly. He messed it up. He said something he doesn’t thing, in the heat of the moment, and now you don’t want to see him again. That’s what he thinks. That you left him forever.

You didn’t, though. You just want to have fresh air, to think better about what he said. He was angry, you can understand that. But he wasn’t angry at you, then why pay it with you? You sigh. Jean isn’t like that. He’s always loving, caring and sweet, even when he had a bad day. He always has a smile for you. That’s why you’re not angry at him. You know he has just a complicated day. But you also want him to know that he shouldn’t pay it with you.

Later that night, when you arrive home, Jean is sleeping on the kitchen table. He has all the papers around and a glass of wine half-empty. You shake his shoulder quietly.

“Jean. Go to bed.” you whisper. He opens an eye a little and sees you.

“You’re home.” he says. But, after all, you just broke up with him, didn’t you? His brain knows you’re only there because you didn’t have enough time to search a place to sleep today. Also, all your things are still here. He moans quietly, getting up, his back hurting because of the bad position his body had. He walks to the bed, hearing your cute little steps behind him. He always liked how they sound. Maybe this is the last time he will hear them. He enters his side of the bed. He can’t lose you. He would make you stay.

“Good night, Jean.” You say, while you enter the other side, giving him your back. He sighs.

“Good night, y/n.”

Next morning, Jean finds himself tangled with you. He smiles. How can your bodies know the other that well? They arranged themselves on their sleep. He takes his arm carefully far from your waist and gets up quietly. He goes straight to the kitchen after changing his clothes. He decided to make it up to you, so he searches the recipe of the fluffy pancakes his mum sent to him not a while ago. Putting his earbuds on, he starts to cook.

You wake up feeling Jean’s place on bed cold, a pleasant smell coming from the stairs. You look at the clock. It’s saturday. Jean doesn’t work today. Then, why is he awake? You stretch yourself in bed and, under your pillow, you find a paper. You read it.

“Good morning. Please, come to the living room once you’re awake. I love you.”

Jean’s handwriting signs the note. Is now he leaving romantic notes for you? You change into your daily clothes and go down stairs, heading to the living room, but you’re curious. Opening the kitchen door quietly, you find your boyfriend. He’s dancing quietly to the music he’s listening, a plate full of pancakes in the side of the table, and he’s turning another pancake with the spatula. You rest your body against the frame of the door, silently enjoying it. He has cut also some fruits, put a huge amount of whipped cream on the side of the plate and made some fruit yoghurt as well. He is making such an effort.

He does this things sometimes, really elaborated and cute breakfast for you two on special dates as your birthday or anniversary, But today isn’t a special day. He turns around and sees you. A shy smile crosses his lips and you enter the kitchen, sitting on a chair.

“Good morning, Jean.” you say. He takes off his earbuds.

“Good morning, babe.” he answers. He then visualices what he said. Did he made you uncomfortable saying that? He’s so used to call you “babe” he didn’t even realize he has done it. He looks sneaky at you. You’re adding chocolate powder to your glass of milk quietly. It doesn’t look like it affected you.

“I... I made breakfast.” he says. His voice sounds shy for some reason. You tell him to sit on the chair next to yours and he takes the pancake plate. The strawberries are cut on heart shape.

“Jean, these are so cute!” you say, taking one. You put it on top of the whipped cream, eating it after that. Jean smiles.

“You have cream on your mouth.” You quickly wipe it with a napkin. In any other day, he would lean closer and take it off your mouth himself. But he wants to make things well, he wants you to forgive him. You also missed that kiss. He cleans his throat and you cut a part of a pancake, tasting it. He looks at your reaction.

“They are really good, baby, goddess” you say. He takes your hand and you look at him. He went from happy to serious in a second.

“Babe I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve how I treated you yesterday. Please, fogive me. I’m so sorry, I don’t want to lose you. Please.” He takes your hand to his lips. “I left early in the morning. I also....” the door bell rings. He goes quickly to the door, coming back with a huge lilac bouquet. “I don’t want to be without you. It was my fault and I don’t want to lose you because of something I said without thinking.” he says. He gives the bouquet to you. It has a little note pined to it. You take it.

“I love you.” it what it says. Just three words that make your spine tremble. He takes your hands again, you can see his pain on his eyes.

“Please, come back to me.” You look at him. Back? You put the lilacs on a near empty vase.

“Back? How back, baby?” you ask. He looks at you.

“We broke up yesterday. You left me, didn’t you?” You can almost hear his quiet and starting sobs. You laugh a little, caressing his cheeks.

“I didn’t break up with you, silly.” you say. “I just left because it hurt me, but I was planning to come back when I got calm. And I did, didn’t I?” the last phrase is almost whispered against his mouth. He takes your chin, his eyes scanning yours so close. You can even see the different tones of brown on his irises.

“Sorry for hurting you. I was angry to myself and I said that. You didn’t deserve it. Sorry.”

You caress his cheek again. You smile quietly.

“Accepted apologizes.” you say.

“Then, are we okay?” he asks. You nod twice, so slowly, that his lips brush against yours sweetly when he gets closer.

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