#tickles my brain in just the right way lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

froggibus · 8 months ago

Note

hiiiii :3 idk if ur taking reqs for dc right neow but a thought that tickles my brain rlly good is dick grayson/reader w a praise kink and dick exploits it n uses it to his advantage.... preferably afab reader but gn is fine :P

CTRL + H - Dick Grayson

Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem! best friend! reader (uses fem pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: when your best friend discovers porn in your browser history while fixing your computer, he decides to use it to his advantage

CW: friends to lovers, lots of praise, uses of ‘good/pretty/lovely girl’ dick calls you sweetheart/angel, dick is CORNY I’m sorry, mentions of porn/asmr porn, teasing, gaslighting (but not really), fingering, marking, unprotected sex, lots of sweat (its sexy i swear), dick fucks you over a desk, kinda rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, implied to be summer, i think thats it??

hey hi 👽 anon, thanks for the request! im sorry it took so long, it wasn't meant to be this long i swear, i just got caught up in the thought of Dick being all hot and sweaty and praising you while fucking you >~< and yeah this happened. really hope you like it (but if you don't, let me know and ill totally rewrite it!) lots of love yes i took an extra 30 mins to find nightwing #83 to take a picture of the comic book to make this banner lol

As if having Dick Grayson look at your search history wasn’t bad enough, now you have to live with the mortifying ordeal of him knowing you have a praise kink.

When you had first invited him over to take a look at your malfunctioning computer, you’d thought nothing of it. You figured he would turn it on and off again, maybe update some drivers. So when he suddenly clicked into your browser and began scrolling through the long, long list of websites you’ve visited, you weren’t sure how to react.

You noticed it at the same time as him, the glowing screen forcing you to freeze where you stand. There on the screen, from just last night, read: praise nsfw asmr. You swallow hard and lunge for the mouse to click out of your browser history, but breathe a sigh of relief when Dick does it first.

There’s a beat of silence, your racing thoughts deafeningly loud as you try to come up with a reason to kick him out. Fanning your face as if that will help chase away the heat of the day, you swallow once more in an attempt to work some moisture back into your mouth.

“F—find anything?” You say as casually as you can.

It’s ridiculous how embarrassed you are, honestly. He’s just your friend, it’s just porn, it’s not like it’s the end of the world. Still, the rattling of your heart against your rib cage and his cruelly quiet silence make it feel like it is.

He shakes his head. “Not so far, I should keep looking but—“ he flicks his eyes up your body, perfect blues tracing your every curve, “you seemed flustered.”

You raise your hands in denial all too quickly, your sweaty palms stretched out towards him. Dick raises an eyebrow, examining you in the way he does with strangers in coffee shops.

“I just…don’t see how my search history is relevant, I guess. That’s all.”

He grabs your wrists, lowering your arms from the defensive position they’ve taken. Despite the familiarity of his touch, something feels off, different in a way you can’t explain. You shake the thought away.

The world has not shifted on its axis because your best friend suddenly knows what kind of porn you’re into.

His touch lingers on your wrist and he uses the leverage to gently pull you closer to where he sits at your desk. When he finally drops your wrist, a chill circles the space where his hand once was, refreshing your feverish skin.

“I just want to make sure you haven’t accidentally picked up a virus somewhere. If we can find one in your history, it’ll be much easier to get rid of it.”

The explanation only half seeps into the mush your brain has turned into under his gaze and you find yourself nodding without quite understanding.

You were fooling yourself by inviting him here. While asking for his help was cheaper than hiring a professional, having him so close to you almost hurts—especially when lately you’ve been trying to force away the feelings you’ve harboured for him.

“So,” Dick says again, “won’t you be a good girl and let me fix your computer for you?”

His words force you out of your thoughts, purely by short circuiting your brain. You blink at him with wide eyes, your heart pounding in your chest.

“W—what did you say?”

“I just asked if I could fix your computer now.”

You tilt your head in confusion. Did you mishear him, or did he call you ‘good girl’? He flashes you that signature smirk of his, his blue eyes suddenly dark with something you don’t recognize.

Though everything on his face reads innocent, something not-so innocent lurks beneath the surface. Something that stares you down and screams ‘challenge me’.

“Yeah.” You swallow. “I guess that’s fine.” You take a deep breath and try to steady the spinning in your head.

Dick continues his work nonchalantly, hitting a few keys and opening your browser history once more. You turn your eyes away from the screen, instead focusing on the way your fingers grasp the desk until it hurts.

You listen to him scroll for a while and try to pretend like he’s not looking through the most intimate part of your life. The idea of him seeing that part of you excites you as much as it nauseates you—a lethal combination.

“You can relax.” Dick hums.

You lift your head to look at him just to see him focused completely on the screen. You don’t dare glance at what he’s so focused on.

“Why not sit down? This could take a while.” He says calmly. “I’m sure you’ll feel much better if you do.”

You roll your shoulders. “I think I’ll just stand.”

There’s a shift in his eyes as if your words sparked something in them. He finally glances away from your screen, completely focusing on you with a newfound intensity. You want to shrink from his gaze, to run down the hall and hide in your broom closet, but you stay rooted in place.

“It would help me a lot if you sit down. Don’t you want to be a good girl and help me out?”

Holy fuck. “What did you just say?”

It feels like you’re waiting an eternity for him to speak again, your heart beating a mile a minute. He’s going to deny it, or make fun of you even more or worse—tell Wally about it.

He pats his lap. “Come sit with me,” he purrs, “be a good girl, keep me company while I work.”

In your shock, you find yourself shuffling towards him and settling in his lap. Dick helps you adjust, tugging you back to his chest and keeping one arm around you while his other reaches for the mouse once more.

He’s so close to you that you can feel the beating of his heart, his breath on your neck. You close your eyes and pray that he can’t feel the heartbeat that’s suddenly appeared between your legs.

You can’t remember a single time he’s been this close to you, a single time he’s touched you like this. The sudden proximity makes you dizzy, butterflies taking flight in your tummy. You clench the arm rests on either side in an attempt to keep your cool.

Dick shifts behind you, one of his thighs gently brushing your clit in a way that makes you squirm. “Don’t do that!”

His hand slides from your waist to grip your thigh, a shiver running up your spine at the contact. “Don't do what? This?” He repeats the motion.

You squeak, lurching forward in an attempt to get away from the friction. You tilt too far and suddenly you’re falling head over heels towards the mat beneath your chair. Dick is quicker than that, wrapping one arm around your chest and another around your waist to tug you harshly back to him.

“Don’t do that,” you repeat breathlessly, “please.”

He rests his chin on your shoulder, soft strands of black hair tickling your cheek. “Why not? Use your words, angel.”

The nickname reignites something inside of you, rekindling a fire between your legs. You clench them together in the hopes it will do something to muffle the throbbing, but when you feel Dick smirk against the side of your neck, you know you’ve failed.

When you don’t answer him, he grins his knee between your legs once more, an innocent hum prompting you.

“You’re—fuck, you’re kneeing me in the cunt.”

Dick’s not sure if it’s from your brazen words or how entirely ridiculous this whole afternoon has been, but suddenly he’s laughing. A big, open mouthed, creasing at the corners of his eyes, laugh.

His laugh surprises you enough to summon one of your own, sending you both into a fit. You shift on his lap to look at him, wrapping your arms around his neck to support yourself while the two of you laugh. It’s stupid and ridiculous and you’re not quite sure what you’re laughing at—just that you are.

You’re laughing and laughing and suddenly his lips are on yours and his eyes are closed and—fuck, he’s kissing you. And then you’re not laughing anymore, your hands brushing up his neck and tangling in his hair. He’s not laughing anymore either, his hands gripping your waist like he expects you to leave at any moment.

You’re breathless when you pull away, refusing to open your eyes and face the reality in front of you. Because maybe the world didn’t shift on its axis when he learned your porn preferences, but it definitely has because he just kissed you.

He taps your cheek gently, using that terribly calm voice he does whenever you start spiralling. “Y/n.” He coos, “open your eyes, y/n.”

You bite your lip, shaking your head in refusal. You know as soon as you do, you’ll have to confront your feelings for him, and his for you, and all of that is just too much and god, when did it get so hot in here?

You open your eyes one at a time, casting them down to where your thighs rest on his. Your hands come together, fingers twirling in your lap just to give you something to focus on other than the throbbing in your clit and the weight of Dick’s eyes on you.

He drags a finger down your overheating cheeks, tracing the outline of your jaw and tipping your head up to face him. His blue eyes are lined with something new, something darker—a need you’ve never seen before.

“Look at me.” There’s a commanding tone to his voice before it softens, “c’mon, please?”

You finally force yourself to meet his eyes, the familiar ultramarine calming the sudden bite of your nerves. “Only cause you asked so nicely,” you say quietly.

“Good girl,” he smiles and it feels like the sun pushing through rain clouds. He strokes your cheek gently, his thumb landing on your cupid's bow.

You shiver beneath his touch despite the unbearable heat of the day. While his finger on your lips threatens to send you flying away, spiralling into space, his other does the opposite. His grip on your hip is tight, fingers digging in and sure to leave behind bruises.

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks quietly.

It’s only a small mercy that your nod doesn’t prompt another ‘good girl’ from him, or some other horribly delightful variation of it. However, when his lips brush yours and his hand slides to the base of your throat, all of the thoughts melt away. There’s no embarrassment, no overthinking, just raw emotion and the sensation of his skin on yours.

You shift in his lap, sliding one of your thighs over his so you can straddle him. Dick offers a guiding hand while you slide forward, half steadying you, half tugging you closer. You shimmy up the length of his jeans until you’re as close as possible, your stomach pressing into his toned abs.

A gasp leaves your throat when your clit brushes the very edge of the bulge in his jeans, the noise only edging him along. His teeth graze your bottom lip, both gentle and desperate, before his tongue slips into your mouth.

The taste of him is intoxicating, consuming you until you’re grabbing his cheeks with both hands to pull him as close as possible. You whine when his cock grazes your clit again and Dick breaks the kiss to let out a breathy laugh against your lips.

“Someone’s needy,” he teases, but his eyes are rimmed with dark and when he looks at you through his lashes, all you see is need.

“Back at you.”

His palm sticks to your cheek with sweat when he goes to pull it away. “You’ve been so good for me today,” he hums, his other hand trailing up your thigh. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

You mumble a breathy ‘please’ before his fingers are brushing your clit through your pants, the heat pooling in your panties near insatiable. You tighten your grip on him and bury your face in the tight black fabric of his t-shirt to muffle your heavy breathing.

While one hand rubs intense figure eights up the length of your pussy, his other hand is fiddling with the buttons of your pants. He sighs in triumph at the soft popping noise and then the fabric is pulling away from your skin, Dick somehow managing to tug them down with only one hand.

You shift in his lap and prop yourself up on your knees to give him better access while he drags the fabric down your thighs. He takes advantage of your position to spin you to face your monitor once more, leaning back in the chair so you’re reclined against his muscled chest.

Warm breath fans the overheating skin of your neck just where your shirt meets your skin. Two calloused fingers dip into the waistband of your underwear, skimming the warmth and slick of your cunt. Dick sucks in a breath, his pants suddenly too tight.

“You really are needy,” he swallows hard. “Lovely, needy girl.”

His words only serve as a catalyst to the intense need you feel in your core, amplifying your desire tenfold. The pad of his index finger brushes your clit and you’re suddenly a goner. Your eyes squeeze shut and you throw your head back, imagining the circles of Dick’s fingers in your mind.

He gently kisses at the neckline of your shirt, his lips soft against the sensitive skin. His tongue runs across the sensitive skin there in tandem with the moving of his hand, the duality sending shockwaves through you. You have to bite your lip to keep from crying out his name.

His wrist slides further into your underwear, fingers moving away from your swollen clit to run along the rim of your aching pussy. You suck in a breath, not moving an inch while you anticipate what’s to come.

Dick sucks a dark mark into your neck. “Ready f’me?” He mumbles into your skin.

You eagerly nod, trying to shift your hips into his fingers and shove them inside of you, but Dick moves away. You frown, lazily looking over your shoulder at him.

“You have to use your words.”

You almost roll your eyes but in your desperation, let your head hang in defeat and open your trembling mouth. “I-I’m ready Dick,” you say, quietly adding, “please.”

“Good girl.”

Then he’s suddenly slipping a finger inside of you, travelling the length of your spongy walls to sit deep inside of you. A gasp rips through you, his name tumbling off your lips faster than you can catch it. He grips your hip to steady you, strong fingers bruising the exposed skin.

He curls his finger inside of you, prodding at that sweet fucking sensitive spot. He only stops when you whine, slipping his finger out for only a second before shoving it back in. He repeats the motion, starting a rhythm of thrusting in and out, his hand on your hip tapping along in tandem.

You squirm in his lap, that ball in the centre of your stomach turning white hot and growing until you can barely contain it. One of your hands squeezes his wrist—whether to stop or encourage him, you don’t know.

“Dick,” you whine, your voice taking on a raspy tone you hardly recognize.

He hums in response. “Does that feel good?”

“S-so good.”

He rewards you by slipping his other finger inside of you, the two of them working in unison. His fingers are so long and thick that they reach places inside you that you’ve never been able to touch on your own, stretching your walls just enough to make your eyes roll back.

The impending waves of your orgasm roll over you, that knot in your core so tight that you know it's bound to undo any second. You squeeze his wrist tighter in warning, your fingers pressing into his veins until you can feel the steady thrum of his blood pulsing.

Dick slips his hand from your waist up your shirt, palming your tit. “Cum for me,” he murmurs. “You’ve earned it, sweetheart.”

His words walk you right over the edge, that knot finally coming undone and sending wave after wave of molten pleasure through you. Every muscle in your body contracts, your pussy squeezing his fingers so tightly it almost hurts. Both your hands clench around the wrist currently in your underwear. Holding him steady while you ride out your high on his fingers.

Dick holds you, keeping you stable while you gush and thrash wildly in his lap. He can feel your slick soak through the fabric of his jeans, his thighs warm with your juices, but he can’t bring himself to care.

He trails kisses up your neck to your jaw, your cheeks and finally, tips your head back until he can plant soft, chaste kisses to your lips. His wrist aches from how hard you squeeze him but he doesn’t dare pull away until your muscles are relaxing and you let out your first, panting breath.

“Feel good?” He prompts.

You shake your head vigorously, all sweaty hair and hot skin and aching lungs. Dick almost wishes he had a camera because the sight of you laying in his lap all fucked out is one he would love to savor and put in his wallet.

He shifts behind you, only now remembering his aching cock and how badly it yearns to be free of the denim confining it. “Think you could do one more? For me? It would make me feel so, so good, sweetheart.”

You don’t think twice about his words, lazily trapping his lips in a sloppy needy kiss and mumbling ‘yes’ against him. In your fucked out state, you’re only half sure that you’re even speaking, the world around you fading. Dick slips his hand out of your panties, his palm soaked with your juices, and rests it on your thigh.

“I need you to stand up for me,” he says, only half asking.

He helps you up on shaky knees, your pants that had been resting just above your knees dropping the rest of the way to the floor. You brace yourself against the desk, half bent over while Dick slowly tugs down your panties. The minute the sticky, soaked fabric peels away from your pussy, you gasp.

Dick stares at the mess he’s made of you proudly, your folds glistening with the slick of your last orgasm. He burns the image into his mind while he fumbles with the zipper of his jeans, standing behind you while he drags them to the floor with his boxers. His cock springs free, thick and dripping with pre cum, begging for you.

He strokes it absentmindedly, all of his thoughts only on you and your trembling thighs, bent so perfectly over the desk waiting for him. He lines the head of his cock up with your entrance, rubbing it through your folds and prodding your clit before repeating the process over again.

Each shift of his cock, each rock of his hips, forces shivers of anticipation down your spine. Heavy breaths leave your lips, your arms barely managing to hold your weight over the desk when you dip your head down to stare at him through the crook of your arm.

“Such a pretty pussy. So wet and needy,” he groans when he finally lets his cock rest at your entrance. “So ready for my cock.”

You nod even though he’s mostly talking to himself. You let your arms sag against the desk and rest your face against your forearm, the sweaty skin sticking to your forehead. Dick thrusts forwards and lets the head of his cock push inside of you.

Moans leave him the second he dips into your heat, the tip of his cock stretching you in a way that has both of your eyes rolling back. His fingers resume their earlier position on your hip, digging in so hard it almost hurts.

He stills once his tip is nestled in your walls, listening to the whiny breaths you let out while you adjust to his size. Your clench your hands into fists, slightly shifting from left to right to help him fit better. He’s big, bigger than you expected, but the way he molds your walls to his cock is almost enough to have you cum right then and there.

Dick is so distracted by the sight of his cock dipped inside of you that he doesn’t remember to move. It’s only when you let out a needy whine and shuffle your hips backwards that he realizes you’ve been waiting so patiently for him.

He snaps his hips against yours, the head of his cock barreling so deep inside of you so quickly that it almost hurts. “Sorry, pretty girl,” he pants, “didn’t mean to make you wait.”

You try to tell him that it’s okay but you’re silenced with another hard thrust. You cry out his name into your arm, your teeth grazing at your skin in your attempt to be quiet. Dick grabs the other side of your waist, using his hands to push and pull you as he pleases.

You fall further against the desk, your body lazily resting against it while Dick’s hips snap into yours repeatedly. The room is filled with the sound of skin on skin, a chorus of your combined moans filling the empty space between thrusts. Each shift of his hips, each prod of his cock, only spurs you further along.

You squeeze your eyes shut, completely focused on his cock battering its way through your walls. You’re only vaguely aware of Dick talking to you, his praise sounding incoherent beneath the rush of blood to your ears. Your pussy flutters around him, his cock scraping your cervix with every thrust.

He thrusts particularly hard into you, his cock jamming hard into the very edge of your walls, forcing a loud cry from you. It aches as much as it pleases, and without thinking, you’re suddenly crawling forward across your desk. Dick tightens his grip on you before you can get very far, tugging you back hard against him and slamming your pussy down on his cock.

You nearly squeal from the pleasure, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. That familiar heat builds inside of you once more, spilling over more and more with each intense thrust.

“You’re taking me so well,” he coos. “So tight—god, it’s like your pussy was made for me. Fuck.”

His lewd words add to that growing knot inside of you and suddenly you’re coming undone in his arms. Everything is too hot, too much, too loud. Tears spill from your eyes and you’re barely aware of the half sobs, half moans you let out through your orgasm.

“That’s right, let it all out. Good girl, cumming around my cock like that.”

Dick holds you steady the whole time you cum, thrusts growing sloppy as your pussy sucks him in and tries to keep him inside of you forever. He’s almost as breathless as you while he watches you cum and the way your pussy seizes around him is enough to have him tumbling over the edge after you.

He wraps both arms around your waist, pulling your hips flush to his, before he lets the both of you fall back into the chair behind him. Your new position forces his cock deeper inside of you—as deep as it can go—and then he’s cumming inside of you.

You can barely feel the hot ropes of cum he spills inside of you while you come down from your own high. Your thighs shake where they rest over his and you’re grateful for him holding you.

Dick lets his forehead rest in the crook of your neck, his sweaty hair wetting your t-shirt. Even after he’s done cumming, he holds you tightly against him, the two of you panting in sync.

It’s nearly five minutes later when you can finally bring yourself to speak, your hoarse voice evidence of the pounding you’ve just taken. “I take it you saw my browsing history?” are the first words out of your mouth.

Dick laughs, his voice gravelly and deep and sexy. “Yeah,” he says, kissing your cheek. “I did.”

You awkwardly turn in his lap, twitching at the way it adjusts his half-hard cock inside of you. You look up at his eyes, the blue finally starting to seep back in through the dark. He cups your face, his hand sweaty, and pulls you in for another kiss.

When you pull away, you can’t help but ask, “so, what now?”

“First, I think I should show you how to use Incognito Mode.”

masterlist | dc masterlist

if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! i appreciate every like, comment & reblog i get ^^

#dick Grayson #dick Grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson smut #nightwing #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #nightwing smut #x reader #x you #batfam x reader #👽 anon #alien anon #froggi after dark #froggi requests

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marypaol · 2 months ago

Text

My Hurt, My Hurt

Harry James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Reader overhears Harry saying something hurtful. And words hurt.

Warnings: Crying, gossiping about others, mentions of eyes being puffy (I don’t know lol), angst, one bad word.

Note: For the lovely @pottermagiczz for requesting! I really hope you like it!

It wasn’t on purpose, the accidental occurrence of being right outside of the room where the conversation was taking place.

But her feet had taken her there, looking for her lost Potions book that she had perhaps left there previously. It was then where she heard murmuring, the voice of two teenage boys discussing something over hushed tones.

As an average person would, the curiosity brewing in her chest got the best of her, and, her Potions book slowly being forgotten, leaned her ear towards the room, trying to catch even a few words they were saying.

Fortunately for her, she quickly discovered that one of those voices were Ron Weasley, and it is common knowledge to know he’s not such a good whisperer.

“So you don’t like her?”

“Shh Ron! Not so loud, will ya?”

The owner of the second voice was obviously Harry Potter himself. She figured such since she often heard Snape call him out while she was working, and she started to recognize the voice without glancing upwards; plus she, as everyone else as well, quickly figured out Snape had a disliking for Potter.

“So you do?” Ron asked urgently, breaking the girl out of her thoughts about Potions, her mind once again slowly forgetting her book that was probably on the table right in front of where they were talking.

“No I don’t. She’s crazy, Ron. Always talking about him. I tried to talk about something else, but she just started crying.”

The girl would’ve heard a undisturbed laugh, but what she heard instead was Ron muffling it with his hands, somehow making it sound more obvious of his chuckles.

Her heart squeezed with anxiety. She recalled a moment, a moment where she didn’t want to remember, but her brain brought it to the front of her mind anyway, pushing it into her thoughts despite her protests.

It started with a sweet Hufflepuff boy she encountered, resulting in blushing cheeks and brushing shoulders. Their lips have locked and their hands have intertwined. But even by a couple months he locked lips with another girl in what they thought was an abandoned corridor, her teary eyes being the next thing he saw when he heard a sniffle.

He tried to explain, tried to gain her broken heart’s pieces back together, but it was no use. So she was left broken and teary-eyed, running through the halls before bumping into Potter, his flustered face turning scarlet out of surprise and embarrassment when he saw she was crying.

He had comforted her that day, warm arms she always dreamed of being in wrapping around her shoulders. She observed from a far that when he hugged friends after Quidditch games, he often placed his face in their neck, and he was doing just that. His nose tickled her skin, his soft breathing brushing it. His lips were something she would always remember, for his mouth was touching her shoulder. She remembered shivering in the best way, but she hoped he took it as she was shaking from the endless sobs that were previously escaping her. But as soon as he wrapped his arms around her, as soon as his lips touched her skin, as soon as his heartbeat was beating in her ears, the sobs ceased.

Was he talking about her? The moment where he held her at her most vulnerable state, the moment he provided her so much comfort that she believed nothing could hurt her again. He could’ve been taking about anyone else in the school, for there was so many girls they could be discussing.

But only one girl he comforted while she was sobbing over a break up with a boy. And that was her.

So yeah, it burned, it burned when he talked about that moment like it was nothing, like the comfort he provided her was fake. Did he even care? Why would he be annoyed by her hurt? Why would he be annoyed when her heart was crushing by the second, watching as her hands fumbled with the pieces as he held her?

And something else burned, besides her chest that was trying by the second to stay together, and that was her eyes, for the tears were brimming her lids.

Her vision got blurry. And yet she stayed, her brain telling herself that he had more to say, more words to destroy her with before she finally walked away.

And she was right, painfully, for Harry wasn’t done yet.

“Why was she crying?” Ron asked. She could hear Harry’s eye roll in his voice, annoyance dripping from his words.

“It’s obvious, Ron. He isn’t with her anymore.”

“Right.” Ron muttered. “Well didn’t she have the right to be sad?”

She peaked just enough to see Harry shrug. “I mean I guess but it was so awkward- like go cry to someone else, please. Plus she ruined my robes with snot.”

It wasn’t just the words that hurt, but the tone in the boy’s voice. He sounded done, annoyed even. But why would he decide to comfort her when he was gonna later go and make of it?

She backed away from the door, eyes burning with the very tears he just ridiculed. She faintly heard Ron bid goodnight, his heavy steps going up to the boys’ dorm once Harry said the same thing.

She was sure she heard Harry’s footsteps as well, squeaky shoes from rainy Quidditch practice going up the stairs, following Ron.

She entered the Common Room then, eyes blurred as she spotted her Potions book on the table. She gripped it in her fingers, almost like she was giving it her pain before practically sprinting up the stairs to her own dorm, a sob wedged in her chest the whole way up.

As soon as she entered the room the noise was let out, the pain in her chest far worse than it was that night in his arms. She sat on her bed, hugging a pillow as if it would take her heart ache.

She thought Harry cared about people other than his friends. She thought he was nice. Maybe the popularity around Hogwarts just made him careless. She didn’t know the reason, but all she knew was that she was planning on never talking to Harry again.

It’s not like he would care anyway, right?

Her eyes were red the next morning. Which was something she hated, but she had to deal with it. She could’ve simply put her wand to her face and casted a spell to get rid of it, but she recalled an occurrence where a girl in Hufflepuff did that only to have such puffy eyes she couldn’t see for two days; even the nurse took forever to get the swelling down.

But, to her fortune, they swelled down a little bit by the time it was breakfast.

She sat in her usual spot, the one no one else sits at, away from everyone else.

Yes, it as her Fourth Year at Hogwarts and her she still didn’t really have any friends. Sure, she was on good terms with Hermione and Ginny, but they didn’t speak to her often, mainly focused on Harry.

Harry.

They spoke quite a lot since the encounter in the corridor, her crying in his arms. He would stop by her dorm steps and walk her to class, walk by her in the corridors and catching up on the latest news.

But ever since last night she wanted to break that bond, for now she thought differently of the boy. She wouldn’t lie though, she did miss talking to him. She missed the smile he would give her in the mornings, and the soft giggles they would share in Potions class, making fun of how Snape’s nose looked abnormally large that morning.

But it was all over.

She thought he cared about her.

Was all those exchanged giggles and smiles for nothing? Just a cruel joke to him when to her they meant everything?

She ended up not being able to eat that morning, for the swirling in her stomach from Harry’s words kept her from doing so.

She kept her head down most of the meal, not wanting to make accidental eye contact with anyone so they could see her partly red eyes.

It wasn’t until her ears picked up on the sound of feet stepping toward her that she looked up.

Only to meet green eyes the color of freshly grown spring grass.

She almost flinched at the sudden company, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

Why did he want to talk to her? He just made fun of her, now he’s gonna act like he cares?

His lips parted and closed like a fish for a couple seconds, them just staring at one another before he spoke. “Hi.”

His voice was shaky but he didn’t stutter.

She cleared her throat, embarrassed that he probably could see her red eyes. “Hello, Harry.”

She mentally cursed him for looking so good today. He didn’t look any different than the other times she’s seen him, realistically, but maybe the fact that she planned not to talk to him her mind highlighted all his good features.

His glasses framed his eyes exceptionally perfect, cheeks flushed and eyes darting too and fro every couple seconds.

Damn it Harry, why do you have to be so cute?

She cleared her throat. “What are you doing here?”

He swayed on his feet, putting his weight on one leg then the other. His eyebrows shot up as if he was surprised at her question before putting himself together and replying.

“W-” his throat cleared. “Why aren’t you talking to me anymore?”

She almost was thrown back by his answer. He couldn’t be serious.

But the hopeless tone in his voice proved her otherwise, like he genuinely wanted to know. The way his eyes were so wide in confusion and wonder behind his glasses, wondering why she was avoiding him.

Obviously he didn’t know she was outside the Common Room during his complaints towards her, but why did his confusion and slight hurt look so genuine?

She cleared her throat, both to make her voice not crack and clear her running questions in her mind. “I think it’s quite obvious, Harry.”

His confusion only got deeper and more expressive, eyebrows furrowing and forehead ceasing in thought. “I’m afraid I do not follow….”

She suddenly felt a spur of anger towards the boy before her, own eyebrows scrunching in frustration. “Don’t act like you don’t know, Harry. Don’t act like what you said wouldn’t have any effect on me whatsoever.”

“What I said?” He questioned, face showing even deeper confusion. “I didn’t say anything about you, not anything negative that is.”

“Oh don’t lie,” she found herself blurting out. “I heard you saying that I was annoying and that you wanted me to drool all over someone else-”

“Woah,” he interrupted, stepping forward and grabbing her arm oh so gently. He then let a light-hearted laugh escape his lips, unknowingly to him only raising the anger inside her.

“What’s so funny?” She demanded, trying to rip her arm out of his grip but failing to do so.

“Love,” he started softly, sitting down beside the girl and finally letting go of her arm, leaning his elbow on the table in front of them. He then faced her, face showing so much genuine feelings that she had trouble staying angry with him, so much so that she felt the snarl on her lips falling into a slight frown.

He then tapped her leg to bring back her attention to him, as if her brain wasn’t already crowded with thoughts of the black-headed boy. “Did you even hear your name within the conversation?” He asked gently, a teasing glint in his eyes.

She scoffed, like the answer was obvious, but now that she thought about it she couldn’t quite place hearing her name in their discussion, for he just used pronouns. But that didn’t make the possibility of them discussing her any less.

“Well, no, but that doesn’t mean-”

He sighed, shushing her softly. “Yes it does, because I wasn’t even talking about you. I was talking about..” he then hesitated, almost like the actual person he was gossiping about was watching him over his shoulder. “I was talking about Cho.”

The girl’s eyes widened, subconsciously spotting forward on the bench of the table closer to him. “But I was crying and you comforted me,” she protested, still trying to convince herself that she was the person he was talking bad about. But Cho? What had she done to Harry to make him talk so negatively about her?

“So did Cho,” Harry started. “Sobbing about Cedric. And I know that it was a valid reason to be crying about, but it was awkward because we aren’t that close, and she ruined my freshly cleaned robes.”

The girl couldn’t help it, she let out a tiny giggle at not only the fact that Harry was complaining about his robes, but the face he made. He looked like he genuinely felt bad for talking bad about the Ravenclaw, yet deep down he really wasn’t sorry; his expression of showing it was too funny not to laugh at.

“Hey, I feel kinda bad now, okay?” Harry attempted to protest, but he still had a curved corner to his lips.

“It’s okay, Harry,” she assured. “I’m glad you weren’t talking about me, because I would definitely missed talking to you.”

Harry’s cheeks dusted pink which made her admire him more than usual, his shoulders curving into his neck to attempt to hide himself.

“I just wanted to let you know,” Harry’s voice suddenly went lower, in a quiet whisper that she had to slightly lean in to hear him. “That I don’t at all regret what I did to comfort you, and that I care about your feelings. And that I would never to anything to intentionally harm them.”

It was the girl’s turn to have flushed cheeks, for she could feel them burning her face up at that very moment. Her heart fluttered at the praise and the love that flooded his words. She felt warm all over, her chest fuzzy with emotion as she shyly looked away from him. “Thanks, Harry. That means a lot to me. And that goes for me as well, I care about your feelings too.”

Harry smiled, something she wanted to see every second of her life. His eyes crinkled beneath his glasses, happiness flooding his features and she could feel her cheeks warming, all because of the boy in front of her.

“Do you think that we can forget this misunderstanding and start over?” She asked almost shyly, like she was embarrassed for assuming their discussions were about her.

Harry eagerly nodded, making her chuckle, and they shook hands to seal their promise.

Let’s just say that those intertwined hands didn’t separate until they got to their next class, for they were afraid Snape would ridicule them at their public forms of affection.

#stories #imagines #x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #harry x reader #harry potter x reader #harry x y/n #harry x you #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry imagine #harry james x reader #harry james potter x you #Harry James potter x reader #angst imagines #Harry Potter angst x reader #Harry angst

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aayakashii · 3 months ago

Text

No idea why I suddenly thought of this. Literally the most random dumb thought ever but okay

You tell them a knock knock joke:

Jin:

Shuts you up immediately. Doesn't entertain it. Says something like "why the fuck are you wasting my time, servant" but then you whine a little, so he rolls his eyes and just accepts defeat. He will say your joke sucks though. You will only tell jokes to him when you want to annoy him from then on.

Tohma

Entertains it. Doesn't mean he will find it funny but the thought of embarrassing you by staring at you, deadpan, for way too long after you tell the joke kinda tickles his brain in the right spot. He might chuckle a little just to break the awkward atmosphere. You never try to tell him jokes after that.

Kaito

Will laugh so exaggeratedly just to appease you, but it will have the opposite effect. You will be kinda put off by his fake reaction, and he'll get desperate and ask for a do-over. You try again because he gets way too sad over that, but it doesn't work anyway.

Lucas

Entertains your antics but doesn't find the joke funny at all. He'll be like "I don't understand, what's the point of this question?". Why do you even try to tell him a joke come on that's on you

Alan

Entertains it. Doesn't really understand the joke, but will give the tiniest smile since you seem happy that he answered you. Big of heart, dumb of ass. Great choice for telling silly jokes.

Leo

You don't tell him any jokes. Please let's have a little self-respect now.

Sho

Entertains it. Will find it extremely unfunny but will be nice with it. He just rolls his eyes and says something like "wow sempai you're not funny at all lol" but it doesn't sting. You might tell him some jokes from time to time just to break the ice when you need it.

Haru

He will be the one telling you the joke actually. If you tell him one he doesn't know, he will find it genuinely so funny that you'll have to hold Peekaboo for a moment while he folds in laughter. Probably the best person you could ever choose to tell jokes to.

Towa

Giggles but like. In a condescending way. Like when we see a puppy doing something cute. He'll be like "haha you're so silly, Dandelion" while tucking your hair behind your ear. You can keep telling him jokes if you want I guess, he won't complain as long as you pay attention to him tbh.

Ren

Never entertains it but you tell them anyway to annoy him. Absolutely despises the amount of knock knock jokes you know, but kinda feels a bit flattered when you say you spend time online just to find silly things to tell him. He's living rent free on your mind, huh?

Taiga

Entertains it and actually laughs like HA HA HA HA HA super loud while saying you're actually kinda funny. He's still very intimidating when he asks you to tell another. Good thing: you only need to memorize three or four jokes. He'll forget them anyway.

Romeo

Why would you even try? He doesn't entertain it. If you keep pushing, however, he'll suddenly yell WHO'S THERE out of nowhere just to shut you up. Will kick you out of his room if you pull out another joke from your little clown hat. Not a very good choice if you wanna be funny.

Ritsu

Will ask if you have a warrant that allows you entry in his property in order to knock on his door. Absolutely ruins the fun with more law jargon. Awful choice but you kinda knew that already.

Subaru

Entertains it out of politeness. Also laughs out of politeness. He doesn't really find it THAT funny, but will chuckle so you don't feel bad. He doesn't mind it either, so you can keep telling him jokes, but the reaction is kinda underwhelming.

Haku

Chuckles after you tell him a joke then hits you with:

"Haku: knock knock

You: who's there?

Haku: Ben

You: Ben who?

Haku: Ben thinking about you all day."

If you can handle this type of comeback, then feel free to keep telling him your silly jokes.

Zenji

Absolutely ROARS with laughter and will deplete you of all your jokes. And will laugh at all of them like you just said the funniest thing ever. Alongside Haru, he's the best person to choose when you're in a silly goofy mood.

Entertains it. Will make it creepy somehow and will tell you some other jokes, but they will be so uncomfortable that you'll wish you never even thought about interacting with him. You can keep telling him jokes if you're a masochist though.

Rui

Entertains it. He will giggle and say you're a silly cutie but you don't know if he genuinely thinks you're funny or if he's just trying to flirt with you. You can keep on telling him jokes as long as you're okay with him calling you every petname in the book in exchange.

Lyca

Entertains it but doesn't understand. Why are you pretending to knock on a door, and why would you even think that's funny? He'll ask you to keep on telling him jokes so he can get used with this weird new human habit he gotta learn.

Yuri

Doesn't entertain it and hates it because he can never guess what's the punchline for your jokes. Will go on a rant about how he has no time to deal with your insanity but he's just upset he can't be as funny as you. Keep telling him jokes if you wanna torture him a bit.

Jiro

Entertains it but doesn't find it funny at all. You're not yelling nor skittish, so where's the fun. Will ask something like "can I go back to work or do you need to get more jokes out of your system?" so he's not really the best choice for telling jokes. But it's on you.

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker headcanons

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charmedbystars · 2 years ago

Text

bored. (e-42 miles morales)

pairing: e-42 miles x reader

summary: you're bored and who else better than your pretty boyfriend to annoy?

content: no warnings!

a/n: this is just a super short blurb that popped in my brain. i was also listening to sneaky snitch while writing this so feel free to listen to that while reading this lol.

now, you weren’t a high-maintenance girlfriend who constantly had to be out. you were content with staying at home with miles, but it has been like this since summer started. occasionally, you guys would go out to restaurants or walk around the mall, but doing that every day took the fun out of it.

so it was a normal summer evening. the air conditioning was blasting. the sun was setting. a random show was on the tv just for background noise. well, it was background noise for you, miles was actually paying attention. could you help it though? you’ve been pressed up against miles’ chest for 2 hours just binge-watching the same show.

groaning out loud and shifting around on miles’ chest is what caught his attention. “you good mamas?” he asked. while shifting around, an idea suddenly sprouted in your head. leaning up to look down at miles, you smirked before going to a neutral expression quickly so he doesn’t get suspicious.

“hey miles… i need to ask you a serious question.”

“yeah was good? everything ‘kay?” he looked up at you in confusion with brows furrowed.

“yeahh it’s just… do you love me?”

“what are you even asking ma? ‘course i do.”

“are you sure?”

“i can’t believe you’re asking me this,” he throws his head back.

“i’m being serious like do you love me three thousand percent?”

“what’s up with that number?”

“milesssss you’re not answeringgg that means you don’t love meeeee,” you whined. of course, you were joking but you wanted to have a little fun and what better way than annoying your boyfriend?

“you seriously cannot be doubting my love for you right now. look at where you are right now,” he gestured his arms around before going back to wrap them around you. “but if you’re asking, yes i love you very much. tu tienes mi corazon, lo sabes.”

“mmm okay miles. i’m taking your word.”

“girl you better be because i got you living.”

“yeah whatever,” you rolled your eyes before leaning back down to lie on his chest and like nothing ever happened, all of miles’ attention goes back to the tv screen in front of you. although the interaction got rid of your boredom a bit, all you wanted to do now was annoy your cute boyfriend. since you just ambushed him with questions, you waited a couple minutes before making your next move.

what was your next move? poking miles’ face. your finger went up to poke his cheek once. getting no reaction from him, you poked his cheek again causing him to look down at you.

“is there something you want?”

“no,” you simply grinned at him. aannddd attention right back to the screen. this time you went to boop his nose making a little “boop” sound with it too.

“you think you’re so cute, huh?”

“well, as a matter a fact, i know i’m cute. no thinking required.”

“baby, are you sure you don’t want something?”

“well, now that you ask again, yes i want something. i want your attention, i need you to do something. your sole reason for being my boyfriend is to entertain me.”

“oh so i’m just here to play around, huh?” he raised an eyebrow and you nodded with no hesitation. you should’ve thought of a better response than that because now you’re regretting everything when you feel yourself getting flipped around on the couch. miles on top of you now, legs holding you in place while his hands quickly went to your side tickling you. you squealed and laughed and kicked your legs around trying to get him to stop.

“miles stop! ple- AHAHA NO!” your pleading would not make miles stop at all. “miles i- i can’t breATHE,” you yelled and he stopped. you look up at him catching your breath and all he did was stare you down with a smirk on his pretty face.

“you’re the worst person ever”

“aww baby, don’t lie. i know you love me and i don’t even have to ask.”

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mullermilkshake · 1 month ago

Note

Hi! 😊

Your writing is so immersive that it feels cinematic—like watching a movie unfold in real time. I love how you always manage to surprise me with plot twists that I never see coming! It’s such a refreshing change from knowing exactly where the story is headed.

I’d absolutely love if you could give Yandere!Reader another go with Nanamin. I think it would be fascinating since Nanami’s level-headedness might keep him from suspecting her. And if you're open to poly ships, it’d be thrilling to add Gojo into the mix with a twist—Yandere!Reader x Nanami x Gojo, but with Gojo secretly yandere all along. Maybe he’s been stalking both of them, planning for the perfect moment to reveal his obsession and orchestrating their “first meeting” to suit his agenda. I’ll leave the rest to your creativity, as I’m sure you’ll bring unexpected layers and depth!

Thank you for considering this! I’m so grateful for all the hard work you put into your stories. 😊🌸

Thanks so much for the kind words! It really means a lot. I love trying to write it all cinematic and doing things that go against the grain because my brain is twisted lol.

I can definitely do that, I hope you enjoy it!

PART ONE - Kento Nanami x Reader x Satoru Gojo

TAGS- Yandere!Reader,Yandere!Gojo,Stalking,Thoughts of killing people,Yandere!thoughts and motives,Masking,Graphic depictions of violence and mentions of damage to eyes.

One americano, two shots of espresso and two pumps of vanilla. Every day at seven thirty five. But not on Sundays sometimes because meetings run over.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going- oh god look at your suit, it must be expensive right?”

It was about time you made proper contact with Kento Nanami. You watched on in awe at his stance, brushing the coffee away from his suit in such a way it made the mundane action sexy. Lustrous. Like he was trying to make the way he allowed a strand of hair to fall past his forehead almost purposefully. With an intent to send you crazy.

Good thing you weren’t like those fangirls you often saw on television, crawling about the stage because a man gyrated over his mic. No, you were merely a coffee barista. A damn good one at that. Well, except for spilling coffee all over Kento’s suit.

But how else were you going to get his attention?

You were barely hanging on as it was watching the others make his drink to order. That’s why you made this one for him.

Jesus fucking hell Utahime It’s two pumps of vanilla. I swear I could kill that bitch right now. Shove head under the hot water valve and watch her eyes burn out the sockets.

It was a little drastic, even for you, but if anyone just saw the way Utahime was talking to Kento they would have assumed the two were dating or something. Kento Nanami was single. Definitely single.

The last girl he wanted to date just never made it to that coffee date on time.

None of his other dates did either.

“It’s fine, really.” The first sentence he spoke to you wasn't ‘thank you’ or his coffee order.

A formulated sentence.

Well, that was five months ago. Kento Nanami made the right choice that day to accept your invitation for a drink. Just like you planned. All seemed well and good for a time before you were noticing something strange when out in public.

White hair.

It was all you seemed to ever see. Out in the store or late night trip to the movies, hooked up to Kento’s arm during a scary or suspenseful part. It just seemed to be there, though you never knew who it belonged to. Never a face to linger for a second to make the connection. Just nothing. It tickled the back of your neck, putting you on the defense as though Kento was in danger. What sort of fucked up person would stalk someone? The idea of it was deranged, sick at the thought that someone was watching him, watching you with him.

White hair. You just couldn’t place it.

“Ken, love! What do you think of this dress?!” You called from upstairs, slipping on your shoes and smoothing down the hem of the fabric.

“I’m sure it’s perfect-” He paused, looking you up and down as though studying every inch of your body before he forgot what it looked like.

“Do I look pretty?”

He nodded slowly, stepping close to sit his hand on your waist. “You look beautiful.”

Hearing Kento say such kind and wonderful things made your night, heck, your entire week. Who gave a crap what anyone else thought? Just Kento was more than what you needed to prove that he liked you very much. You loved him of course, but that was love at first sight. Counting down the agonising days until he said it back to you, when you told him all the time in your head or whilst he slept. It took restraint not to slip up and make him doubt things.

So difficult not to say it for the man you loved.

“Thank you.” You giggled at his touch, planting a kiss on your temple with a husky growl in his throat.

“Maybe we should leave dinner tonight? I can’t possibly see how I’ll cope without taking you back to mine straight away. Too beautiful.”

“Restrain yourself, Ken. Someone might think you’re in love with me or something!” Your ecstatic grin sat just in front of your face as though to mask your brain away.

Say it… just say it please. Tell me you love me. I need to hear it.

His attentive smile made your stomach flip when he pulled you close and spun you around to face the mirror. “If they saw your smile, they would understand what a lovely person you are. And see how I can’t resist you when you’re in a dress like this.”

Oh dear. Maybe some other time.

“Well,” You kept that mask on and pulled away from him. “Should we get going then? Don’t want to be late.”

“Of course.”

Kento drove straight to the restaurant, quite an upscale place for no occasion. Maybe there was? Perhaps Kento had something planned that you were unaware of, something spontaneous or quite the opposite. A planned surprise? It was practically the night of your five month month anniversary after all, two hundred wonderful days spent seeing each other and having astronomical sex.

You didn’t get your hopes up and held your breath when he climbed out of the car and opened the door for you. So special. So dedicated to your comfort with the slightest touch from his fingers on the small of your back. Adrenaline made everything ten times more acute, aware of everything and anything you walked by and as you seated yourself at the table facing Kento, your heart beat so fast. Five months was a long time when you had waited longer to be with him.

You were basically in a relationship with him for well over a year by now it seemed, surely that was long enough to hear those three words?

“Can I get you any drinks?” The waitress grinned at Kento and then at you.

Why him first? He was the most handsome man you had ever seen, but what right did this bitch have setting eyes on him? You ignored the irritation and blinked it away for now, letting Kento speak for you and took a moment to observe the room.

White hair.

A flash of it and you would have missed it had you turned away to scowl at the waitress again. White hair like you were imagining it.

“Darling?”

“Hm?”

“Are you alright?” Kento slid his hand forward and offered it to you. “You seem distant.”

“I’m fine.” You were not, but took his hand anyway. “It’s a little chilly in here, don’t you think?”

“I’ll ask them to turn the heat up, will that be alright?”

He’s so considerate. “That would be great, thank you.”

You played it off and ignored the itch on the back of your neck, being watched did not agree with you. Kento sat still and his head tilted to the side a little, studying you again whilst his free hand rummaged into his suit pocket.

“I have something for you.” He pulled out a little box. “I know we haven’t been dating that long, but I wanted to get you something I hope you’ll like. If it’s too early, please let me know.”

A box. A small little box. It was light in your hand, velvet to the touch and firm enough that it must have come from those places that sold rings for stupid money. One little box, something so small which held your heart right in Kento’s pocket.

Is he proposing? Please tell me he’s proposing. It means he loves me, right?

“Ken… What-” A pair of earrings.

“I know you lost one from the pair you always said you wore, so I wanted to get you a new pair. I hope it’s appropriate.”

You forbid yourself to be disappointed, because it wasn’t about the hope that a ring sat nestled perfectly in this box. You put up your mask and smiled sweetly enough to satisfy him. “It is. Thank you so much, I love them!”

He’ll propose some day.

“Here are your drinks.”

The waitress took Kento’s drink off first and placed it right in front of him. Then she placed yours down off to the side. She was doing it on purpose, you were sure of it. The steak knife on the table looked pretty good to shove straight in her neck-

She cleared her throat and placed the tray under her arm. “I’ll be back in a moment to see what you'd like to order.”

“Thank you.” Kento paid no mind to it and took a sip of his wine. “This is a nice vintage, I think we should go to one of those wine tasting evenings. It’s a good place to get to know each other more.”

You did not need to know Kento more. You knew practically everything about him in the four months he stepped into your life physically.

He liked to drink, hence the wine tasting suggestion. Kento also enjoyed cooking, especially as he lived alone in his apartment, but he also enjoyed dishing up delicacies in your own kitchen. His birthday was July third and he had a particular interest in the arts, like music and theatre. A man of many tastes.

“Hello there, can I get you something to eat?” A voice of a man you did not recognise came into ear shot.

“I think we might need a minute. Our waitress is taking our order.”

White hair.

You looked up and saw white hair, only this time it did not disappear. The white hair had a face, a blue eyed porcelain complexion with a smooth grin. The man stood taller than Kento dressed in a suit and staff ID.

“I’m sorry, she suddenly became unwell and had to go home. I’ll be taking your order tonight.” He smiled again and made eye contact with you. “My name is Satoru Gojo and I will do everything I can to make sure your night is perfect.”

Gojo. His gaze over you was the exact same distinct feeling of being preyed on. His cutting glare just behind the loose strands of hair over his forehead that looked softer than a cloud. You didn’t know what to make of this, but at least that waitress was gone. You really thought you were going to have to do something about her.

“Alright then. I’ll be back momentarily.”

“Ken, I’m just going to use the restroom, if he comes back before then, can you order me…” You took a brief glance at the menu and chose anything you first landed your eyes on. Gojo wandered off towards the opposite end of the restaurant, somewhere not where the kitchen was. “The steak? I’ll have it however it’s recommended.”

“Alright.”

You took off and made your way over towards the restroom, noting that he had disappeared. Crap. You wanted answers to why it seemed like that man was following you, stalking Kento for no apparent reason.

Would you need to do something about this guy? He was taller than you realised, so he must have been stronger too. You were not super strong by a long stretch, but when pushed enough to the limit, it drove you to do things you thought your body was not capable of.

Just look at the last waitress that brought the wrong drink and almost spilt it all over him just last week. So much blood and she was still wailing after you shoved your stiletto heel in her face.

People never learn.

By the time you reached the restroom, the stalls were all empty besides one. The long wall length mirror outlined them all like little match boxes opened after use, showing the amber light inside for an ambient glow.

“How did I know that I’d find you in here, hm?” Gojo’s voice echoed throughout the restroom.

It startled you enough to move towards the door and lock it, backing away from the closed door and sitting your back flush with the slate grey tiles adjacent to it.

The toilet stall opened and he came out much less cheerful than he was outside, hands tight in his trouser pockets. “You can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Who are you?”

“It’s funny, no one else ever seems to notice me when I don't want them to. But your instincts are hot on it every time, aren’t they?”

“Tell me who you are.”

This wasn’t a show of weakness or a moment that revealed your vulnerabilities. When you glared back in his eyes, it was Kento you thought of. If this man was here to hurt him, well, you’d fucking kill him. Out in the back alley, no witnesses and back in time for your steak and boyfriend you’d do anything for. To kill for three times over already. Yes, you’d do it if the opportunity called for it.

“Y’know, I was so ready to come and kick the shit out of that guy when I saw that little box he gave you, but I see right through that little charade you got goin’ on. I've been watching' you a while now.” By now, he’d taken precisely four steps towards you, taking the opportunity to lean against the row of inbuilt sinks. “You’re exactly like me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you need to stop stalking me and my boyfriend. I’ll call the police.”

Gojo’s laugh made your stomach lurch. This guy was a whole new level of crazy you had never seen before. “That’s cute. You’re cute. But no, I’m not stalking him, just you.”

“Then stop doing that.”

“Why, aren’t you scared that I might do what I just said I was goin’ to do? He looks strong but when he has his hands all over you, it sorta drives me crazy.”

Gojo would not make it past the restroom door if he intended on hurting Kento. Yet, why did you contemplate that you’d rather take on the waitress instead of him right now?

Shaking the doubts away, you imagined the scenarios that may occur should you get hold of another steak knife or any other sharp object really. One of the heavy statues in the foyer could prove adequate to crush his head or even one of those little blow torches for creme brûlée right to his face.

For now, your mask dropped, and for a time you could breathe a little. Pretending to be happy all the time was difficult work and holding back on punching anyone who gave eyes at Kento took practice and great restraint. “If you go near him at all, I’ll kill you. I won’t just kill you though, it’ll be worse than torture.”

Gojo stepped closer to you and looked down as though you were a child to be patronised. “That’s my girl. Now, why don’t you introduce me to your little boyfriend so we can make this more official, huh?”

He’d backed you into a corner, right up against the wall. “I meant what I said. Don’t come near us.”

“And I know you have the same urges as me, you think no one sees, but I do. I see you. You won’t have to pretend around me. I’ll even do all your dirty work, that’s what I enjoy most.” He placed his palm on the wall beside your head, leaning in so his mouth was right next to your ear.

“Lets get this fucked up little love triangle kickin’ hm?

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jhoneybees · 9 months ago

Text

Fear

This is a first! My first smutty fic that is inspired by this song!

Taglist: @elvisalltheway101 @atleastpleasetelephone @i-r-i-n-a-a

Characters: Mid60s!Elvis x Wife!Reader

Warning/triggers: Never knew I would be saying this but...Smut! lol, mentions of sex, nudity, reader's first time-ish, nipple play, blowjob, male receiving and almost female receiving

_____________________________________________

The both of you are quite open with your thoughts and feelings and it's been like that for years and years, of course Elvis and you would sometimes feel a bit insecure about something but you two would find ways to work through it.

But the only thing that Elvis hasn’t shared with you is a fear, something that he thinks you might find silly and… maybe it is.

Ever since you met back in 1964, he has been dodging the topic of sex over the many years of dating and it's not that you’re dumb and naive around sexual things, no sir, Elvis sure knows you’re not a stranger to foreplay and it’s not that he hasn’t done the deed before, the two of you know he’s been with many girls before.

It's just this one thought, this one itchy thought that's been plaguing his mind ever since you brought up the topic.

Of course, he wants to have sex with you. Oh how he wants to show you how a man really loves a woman.

But it's just…he’s afraid that he might hurt you.

Most men may think it’s silly to have such ideas because it’s only natural to thrust themselves into a woman and pound them into the mattress.

Right?

Well, yes but there's something about the thought of seeing your angel face contort in pain, tears springing at the outer corners of your eyes and hissing at the burning sensation that doesn't sit right with him, he knows the pain wouldn't last forever.

He's just scared.

He couldn't bear seeing you wincing and crying because of him. He's always been so sensitive with how you're taken care of and yes, you're a full grown woman and he probably shouldn't be worrying about you so much like that.

Hell, he can't help it though.

This fear is scarier than anything else to him, even more terrifying than the big fear of proposing to you which he did a year ago.

Now he's finally married to you and right at this moment sitting on the edge of a bed in a hotel suite in Hawaii, on your honeymoon.

“Elvis…”

Elvis perks up at your voice, seeing your head peeking out from behind the bathroom door with that gorgeous smile. His lips curl at the corners.

“Close your eyes”

He does what you say and closes his eyes, he has an idea what you might be doing and he's nervous to say the least.

Swallowing thickly as he hears the varnished floorboards creak, a light whiff of your sweet perfume tickles his nose.

“Feel me”

He gulps again and when your soft hands lift his ones up to place on your hips, his breath catches in his throat at the feeling of delicate lace.

“You know what it is?”

He nods quietly, his heart pounding in his chest, he thinks it might go out of control at any second.

“Open your eyes”

Just…

How could he do such a thing to you? To tarnish your angelic, heavenly body, with how the white lace underwear moulds onto your hips and the little pudge below your belly button. The matching white lace bra complimenting your breasts, the softness and fullness of them spilling over the tops and little pink buds peeking through the fabric.

It’s all making his head spin. You’re so beautiful and he can already feel his dress pants tighten. He has shown his love to you in so many ways but he has never shown the way that he has been waiting to do and as much as his heart is telling him to show you, his brain is stopping him.

Fingers pushing ever so lightly against your waist. Elvis is in absolute awe of you, the pressure of his fingertips pressing down on your skin makes something crack inside of him, his breathing becoming laboured when the urge to feel your entire body with his palms enters his mind.

His eyes roaming up your body, eyelids fluttering lazily. A groan vibrates in his throat.

“You’re gorgeous…” he breathes, earning an angelic giggle from you.

As his eyes begin to trail back down your body, they snap up to yours when you place a hand on his shoulder. A breath sucks out of him at the slight contact of his clothed length getting brushed by your knee resting on the mattress between his legs.

He gently lays himself down at the light push from your hand, making sure to let out a breath or he would’ve exploded right then and there.

A flame ignites in his heart at just the sight of you crawling on top of him, your goddess of a body planting right on his pelvis and leaning down closer and closer to his face. Sighing at the feel of your soft lips pressing onto his passionately.

Elvis’ hands try to grasp onto something, anything, and what he finds is your hips, your squishy but firm hips.

Sliding them up to the curves of your breasts, he hovers his thumbs over your hardened nipples. Hearing you let out a moan as he brushes over your clothed buds.

“H-honey…”

Stuttering in between kisses. He groans at your sensual hums and gentle nibbles on his bottom lip, watching you pull away, he looks into your eyes that dig into his soul and with hesitant hands, he gently clenches the sides of your panties in his fists. Feeling your hands trail down his chest to his pants, shuffling back to unbutton and his breath hitches at your fingers wrapping around his cock.

His mind falls static at the image of you, leaning down and peering up at him with your pretty soft lips parting to take him into your mouth, knowing you'd take such good care of him because you always do, and as he feels your wet tongue flatten against his tip and enveloping him in between your lips letting the wet muscle slide down under his length ever so slowly and so gently, the wind gets knocked out of his lungs.

“Ooohh baby…”

His voice comes out hoarse and pleasured. He tried keeping his head up to watch you but the anticipation of wanting to feel you spreads all throughout his body and with that his head falls onto the bed.

Shaky hands going up to press into his eye sockets, a string of moans fall from his lips. He swears you must know every little trick, you make him become so undone in such a short time.

His hips stuttering, more slow dragged out groans squeeze out of his throat as the suction in your mouth milks every drop of him.

Elvis in a daze, his hands fall to his sides. Taking a few moments to come back to earth.

After taking a few breaths, he opens his eyes, sensing your fingers grazing his skin as you undo the buttons on his shirt, sliding it just over his shoulders. He almost chokes on his own saliva when you quickly take your underwear off and unclasp your bra, leaving you bare naked right on top of him.

…How did he get so lucky?

He’s falling in love with your body all over again because of the view of your little imperfections that you would always think are ugly, he finds them so damn sexy and he always makes sure you believe that too.

His gaze travelling down your frame, he grunts at how pretty your dark wiry hairs decorate the trail down to your womanhood. He’s hypnotised by your beauty that he doesn’t notice his cock is nearly just about able to be nestled in between your lower lips but when you grind on him again while biting your lower lip, he suddenly feels the wetness and as he's sucking in a sharp breath, the realisation hits him like a truck.

“U-uh.. honey uhm-”

“Hmm?...”

His brain runs in circles. That thought comes drumming back into his mind. He doesn't want to hurt you.

Feeling your hand travelling up his chest, his breath hitches at the mischievous glint in your eye, your hips moving to grind on him again and a mental flash blinds his vision. Your little hole ripping open twice the size causing blood to seep out and a deafening scream right in his ear coming from your mouth.

Sucking in the air as his cock slides in between your lips, his heart pounds out of his chest even more.

A small whimper rolling off his tongue.

“Hon-”

Elvis stares as your eyes flutter close, your face contorting slowly into pleasure and the sounds of small moans falling from your pretty lips, his horror thoughts come to a halt at the sight of your angel beauty melting into something that he can imagine is sinful.

His heart almost stops when you lift your hips. hovering over his hard cock, you lower yourself slightly rolling your hips over his red, angry tip. Teasing him. Barely rubbing, making combined gasps and moans fill the room.

“D-don’t, I’m gonna hurt you- please”

Flashes of the painful images flood his vision again. With frantic hands, he grips onto your hips to stop you.

“Elvis?”

Peering up at you with parted lips and furrowed eyebrows “W-w-w-we shouldn’t…” he shakes his head while quickly sitting up, leaning himself back against the headboard. Gulping thickly, Elvis runs his fingers through his hair, breathing in and out as he tries to calm himself.

It’s not just him who's been waiting, it’s you too.

He should be telling you.

“I-I-I don’t want to hurt you, Y/n…I-It’s gonna hurt a-and It’s not that ah don’t think yer strong baby, yer real strong b-but its just…I-I can’t bear ta see ya in pain” he stutters.

Glancing over at you sitting there on your knees naked in front of him on the shared bed, he swallows harshly.

“Honey I-”

“It only hurts for a little bit…”

His heart thumps at your sudden soft voice, eyes flicking from one of your eyes to the other. He’s looking for something, something like some sort of judgement but all he can see is bravery, certainty and just pure love.

“W-we don’t gotta do this anymore if ya- if ya don’t want to” he mutters.

The room falls silent for a few moments before your voice breaks through.

“Have you always been gentle with me?”

“Baby?”

“Have you always been gentle with me, Elvis?”

Clearing his throat softly, he thinks for a bit.

“Of course, darlin”

“ And would that change now?”

“N-no…”

Elvis gulps, watching as you crawl closer. Your legs on either side of his hips gasping softly at the coolness of your fingertip lifting his chin, your soft stare boring into his soul.

“Then there’s no need to worry”

Then ever gently your lips press against his, his heart sighing at your delicate hands cupping his face.

“I want your sex, Elvis”

#elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis #i love him #60s elvis #elvis imagine #elvis presley x reader #elvis smut #elvis fandom #Spotify

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ticklygiggles · 2 months ago

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Miya&Mia's 12 days of Tickles Day 8: Memories

Kavetham

A/N: uufff super late for this one as well skdndkff I'm terrible at these events aaaaaaaa I hope you all enjoy this one, I think they're a bit too ooc, but I hope you like it either way lol

The holiday season really was... melancholic for Kaveh. Memories of the past plagued his mind from a long time ago where his father had not disappeared and his mother was still with him and he was just a silly boy, opening presents and grinning like an idiot.

He now had spent many holidays on his own and he was nothing more than a poor architect. Poor, literally, and the only thing that made his life happy was…

“Ah, Kaveh. Welcome back. What do you think of this?”

Well, not a thing, but Alhaitham.

“Alhaitham? Are you… decorating?”

Kaveh blinked in disbelief as the wooden door closed behind him. Alhaitham was in the middle of the living room, decorating a huge pine tree right in the corner. It was almost finished, for what Kaveh could tell, it only needed the ornament on the very top.

What did he think of this? Well, first of all, he didn't understand why Alhaitham was doing this. Second of all… it didn't look half bad if he had to be honest.

“So?” Alhaitham insisted with his usual bored expression.

“Well, it looks good. I just… didn't know you liked this celebration so much…”

Something weird twisted in Kaveh’s chest. Seeing this pine tree only made him think about the memories of his childhood and he let out a long sigh that Alhaitham didn't fail to notice.

“What's wrong?”

“It's just…”

Before he could stop himself, he was telling Alhaitham all about it, feeling his cheeks heating up as the Acting Great Sage looked at him intently from across the room.

The words came pouring out, explaining why he felt so melancholy and sad while a part of his brain screamed at him to shut up. Was Alhaitham going to laugh at him afterwards? Was he going to tell him he was making a fool of himself? Worse still, was he going to take down the decorations?

As the words slowly died on his lips, Kaveh couldn't look up, so ashamed he was of having said everything he said. He fiddled with his fingers and opened his mouth a few times, but Alhaitham's crushing silence had him paralyzed.

“W-Well, I… I… oh!”

He could no longer formulate his sentence because Alhaitham's strong arms surrounded his figure and held him tightly against his chest, his cheek resting on top of Kaveh's head. Kaveh blinked, but slowly returned Alhaitham's embrace and tried to ignore the stinging in his eyes.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, gently swaying and enjoying each other's warmth. If it were up to Kaveh, he would have stayed there all his life, in Alhaitham's arms, listening to the calm beating of his heart.

“We should create new memories,” Alhaitham said above him and Kaveh hummed in agreement, smiling softly, nuzzling more into Alhaitham’s chest. “New memories so your silly brain stops focusing on the bad.”

Kaveh didn't even feel like fighting so he chuckled, nodding a little. “You're right, for once, what do y-you thihihihink-! It tihihickles, wahahait!”

One of Alhaitham's mischievous hands had slipped through the opening in the back of Kaveh's clothing and his fingers dug gently against the back of his ribs.

Kaveh burst out laughing, pushing Alhaitham lightly, as if he didn't really want to escape and was just putting up an act. Alhaitham simply chuckled and wrapped his arm firmly around Kaveh's waist, preventing him from escaping or falling to the floor.

“I bet it does. The reason is that I'm tickling you, Kaveh. We're under the mistletoe.”

Kaveh hadn't noticed, but a mistletoe had been hung at the entrance to the hall, and just as Alhaitham had said, they were both under it.

“You're suhuhuppohosed to kihihiss, not tihihickle- ahahahah! L-Leheheave my rihihibs alohohone!” Kaveh hit Alhaitham's chest without any force.

“We'll, since we're creating new memories, let's also create new traditions,” Alhaitham said, pressing a open mouthed kiss to Kaveh's neck, causing him to gasp between his laughter. “We have to kiss and tickle each other under the mistletoe.”

“That's unfahahair, I-” Kaveh gasped. Did he just say tickle each other?

Weakly, one of his hands managed to find an opening to one of Alhaitham's armpit and the scribe threw his head back with a loud, sudden laugh.

“Fine! FIHIHINE! I wahahas wrohohong!” Alhaitham cackled, trying to push Kaveh away.

The architect simply giggled and kept tickling Alhaitham. “Nah, you weren't. We're making new memories, aren't we?”

This holiday season was definitely going to be different and for the first time in forever, Kaveh was looking forward to it.

#miya&mia's 12 days of tickles #genshin impact #genshin impact tickling #kavetham #haikaveh #kaveh #Alhaitham #ticklish!Kaveh #ticklish!Alhaitham #tickle fic #mia's things

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beenbaanbuun · 11 months ago

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Can we please have more interactions between darling and yeosang 😭 they’re so cute wtf I love the whole addams matz universe so muuuuch! Like when they hang out while mommy and daddy are busy or when she’s cuddling him and he’s annoyed but not annoyed lol or even them eating snacks together

you can tell yeosang is fed up by the way he keeps sighing. the ears atop his head twitch every so often, and his tail keeps flicking in agitation. you can’t lie, you actually find it rather amusing, watching him so desperately try to keep his annoyance to a minimum as you play with the hem of his sweater. you wonder how far you can push him before the switch in his brain flips.

“cant you go and bother someone else?” he grumbles after you ‘accidentally’ scrape your nails against the bare skin of his side. it doesn’t tickle him like you hoped it would, but the irritated grumble you get from him is satisfying enough. you’re about to do it again when he slams his own hand down onto yours and shoots you a glare. “i’m serious! find someone else to annoy before you push me too far.”

you scoff as you let yourself relax fully on top of him. such a boring little mutt, you think as you snuggle the side of your face into his fuzzy jumper. at least he’s good to cuddle with, even if it doesn’t help you release all that mischievous energy that’s been building up inside of you since hongjoong and seonghwa left you to your devices first thing this morning. you could’ve really done with a little help from mommy and daddy to release it all, but since they’re both busy…

you groan into yeosang’s stomach, “who else am i supposed to annoy, hm? daddy is out and mommy told me not to disturb him for another—” you spare a glance at the clock, “—3 fucking hours? please, sangie! i’m going to die of boredom if you expect me to just lie here and do nothing…”

“at least i’ll get a little peace and quiet,” he jests, earning a glare from you. the look on your face only makes him grin, sharp canines glinting under the flames of the candlelit chandelier. it’s such a pretty smile for such a rude creature; you almost wish you could wipe it off of his equally pretty face. you hope the harsh slap to his shoulder with your free hand will do the trick.

“you’re mean, yeosang,” you grumble as you pull your other hand free from his grasp. it’s harder than it looks—damned werewolf and his weirdly muscular body—but you’re more determined than yeosang gives you credit for. sure, it hurts a little as you finally tug your fingers loose, but you still give a cheer of celebration, wiggling them in his face to antagonise him. “i’m sure seonghwa won’t appreciate it when i tell him just how mean you’ve been to me.”

the threat is empty and the both of you know that. seonghwa would turn you away if you rushed to him now. it’s hardly like it’s an emergency, and your lover is far too busy to deal with such trivial matters as yeosang teasing you a little. you wouldn’t get much more than a side-eye and a slap on the thigh before being sent on your way. of course you could wait until seonghwa is finished, but by then you’ll have probably forgotten the whole ‘i’m going to tell on you,’ schtick you have going on right now.

“be my guest, little lady,” yeosang smirks, hands lifting up in a gesture of surrender, “go have a chat with your precious mommy and see where that gets you. but don’t come crying to me when you get saddled with a punishment later, yeah?”

honestly, a punishment sounds nice right about now. something to get all this annoying energy out of you. it would tire you out, make you all floppy and docile like yeosang clearly wants you to be. you’re almost tempted to do as he says; to go and bother seonghwa until he gives you that familiar look that means you’re in deep trouble. maybe he’ll take care of you right there on his workbench…

although probably not. the greenhouse is a sacred space for seonghwa, not to be desecrated by any sort of sexual deviancy. sure, you might be slapped with a punishment, but you’d almost certainly be forced to wait for it. those three hours would be painful for both you and yeosang, and you’re not sure the wolf would put up with your anxious fidgeting for too long. he’d probably abandon you in the living room, taking himself up to his room to do whatever the fuck he does in there. you’d be left and anxious mess, waiting for a punishment that would take entirely too long to come.

you give a dejected sigh before relaxing against the werewolf once more. the low chuckle he gives you rumbles deep within his chest and you can’t help but press your ear against his rib cage in the hopes of hearing more of the pretty sound. a hand finds it way to your head, petting and stoking you as if you’re the pet in this situation. if you weren’t enjoying the feeling of his claws scraping against your scalp, you would’ve scoffed at him and moved away. it really does suck that he’s managed to learn all of your soft spots from all the hours spent watching you with seonghwa and hongjoong. he really does know how to make you submit.

“that’s it, pup,” he chuffs, “just relax for now. you can get all that energy fucked out of you later, hm?”

“yeosang!”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #matz x reader #yeosang x reader #opposites attract universe

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poopwons · 1 year ago

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**Break My Heart**-Ft. Jean Kirstein 18+ MDNI!!

Synopsis: You and Jean break up, he doesn't know what to do with himself. Maybe you'll call him? (surprise, you will)

Content: (NSFW), F!Reader, Jean’s POV, post break up feelings, angst, cursing, depressed Jean, pet names, handjobs, fingering, praise kink, Jean has a teensy bit of a size kink, collaring (if you squint), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, people), cream pie, hair pulling, light alcohol consumption

a/n: I have never written anything this long before, but I got the idea in my head and it would not get out so, here it is. I was literally driving home from work listening to Olivia Rodrigo and Happier came on, so that's what inspired this 🥰 Huge shoutouts to @jeanboyjean and @cowgirlikets for encouraging me through this entire process!💜💜💜 ***also I know absolutely nothing about plumbing, so sorry if all of that is completely inaccurate LOL***

words: 6.9k

Two months, four days.

That’s how long it’s been. That’s the last time Jean saw you in person, talked to you at all. Sure, he’s wanted to reach out, he’s gotten drunk a few times and Connie had to wrench his phone out of his hands when he saw your name on the screen. Jean had yelled at him, tried to push him off, but Connie ended up with the phone, locking it away before helping Jean to bed. All in all Connie was looking out for him more than anyone else. That’s what good roommates are for, right?

Though, Jean is sure that Connie never expected to ever see his friend like this. Hell, Jean never thought he’d be this way; he never even thought of the possibility of the two of you splitting at all. The first week after you told him you didn’t want to keep seeing him, he stayed in bed, blaring awful sad songs, just wallowing in his own self pity. He supposes he still is, even months later.

The days without you have slowed to a crawl. He still thinks about you all the time, it takes all his will power not to scroll through your instagram, wondering if you’re thriving without him, or if you’re just as fucked up as he is. He doesn’t want to know, he’s not that desperate yet. Still, thoughts of you plagued him every moment it seemed like. Who does he make breakfast for now? Making a single serving for himself just seems.. pathetic, pointless, in comparison to making something for you.

The two of you had a great routine, his favorite, he thinks. You’d wake up, curled in his arms, peppering little kisses to his face, trying to wake him up. He’d groan at you before running his hands to your sides to tickle you, calling you a menace for disturbing a man’s sleep. The little giggles he’d pull from you were his favorite sound, he’d never heard anything better. Then he’d get up, make coffee and breakfast for the two of you while you showered. Sometimes he’d say fuck the breakfast and shower with you instead. Hot water cascading down the two of you, the smell of your shampoo in his nose as he kissed the back of your neck while washing your hair. Fuck. He needs to stop. Think about anything else, he curses himself, his brain can’t keep doing this to him, can it?

But, turns out, it can. Who makes your tea the way you like it, muddled with honey and a splash of cream? Who else knows that you only want earl grey when it’s raining because that’s what your mom would give you when you came inside from splashing around in puddles when you were little? That you want chamomile when you’re sick, and coffee most mornings, unless you’re anxious, then you want English breakfast. Who knows the way you order your meals from your favorite restaurants? That you don’t like water chestnuts because “they’re too crunchy without enough flavor”, or that you hate fast food lettuce but will completely devour the caesar salad from the diner downtown because you say the lettuce is always “the perfect amount of crisp and never soggy”? What does he do with all this little information that he’s learned about you, that’s now completely useless to him since you’re not here?

Connie managed to drag Jean out to go have lunch with him and Sasha the next day. It’s the first time he’s been out in weeks for something other than work. He’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, the most he can manage with how exhausted he’s been. The little chain that you picked out for him draped across his collarbones. He likes that memory. You dragged him into a jewelry store, showing him the necklace, saying something about how you thought it’d look good on him. He was never much of a jewelry person, but for you? He agreed, but only if you’d get a matching bracelet, and you did. You said it was your favorite, you loved it so much, and it went on like that, the two of you, in your matching pieces, wearing them everyday…

“Jean,” Connie breaks him out of his thoughts, he wonders if he could tell that he was thinking about you again.

“What,” his tone is flat, nothing like his usual light hearted one.

“Dude, don’t you think you should take that off?”

Jean looks down at his chain, then back at Connie, a frown plastered on his face.

“No, I don’t want to take it off.”

“Look, man, I know you’re still upset, but.. doesn’t that make it worse?”

Jean can’t stand the look of pity he’s getting, he shrugs and doesn’t reply. Take it off? And then what, get rid of it? No. No, he can’t get rid of it, you got it for him. It would be like throwing you away.. and he’s just not ready to do that, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be.

Sasha kicks Connie under the table, the two of them had clearly talked about how to handle today and it seems like Connie is going off script. Jean can’t take it anymore, he can’t stand the way his friends are looking at him, he wants to look anywhere else. So, he does what he’s been trying to avoid. He pulls out his phone, opening up your instagram. You haven’t posted in a while, but there is one new picture. Jean’s heart lurches into his throat when he sees it. Who is that? Why is he with you? He’s never seen this guy before and he doesn’t like it, right down to his stupid green eyes, that idiotic man bun, and that shit-eating smile plastered on his face, like he’s mocking Jean without even trying. The picture is innocent enough, a selfie with his arm around you. But why is he touching you? Why are you letting him? Did you really move on this fast? Did you forget about Jean already? Is this the real reason you ended things with him, for this other guy?

He hears a faint grunt from across the table, then Sasha is talking to him, he hardly hears it, the blood is rushing in his ears. Connie snatches his phone from his hand, Jean can’t even find the energy to snap at him. Connie groans when he sees the screen.

“Shit, man… I was hoping you wouldn’t see that.” Connie practically winces when he meets Jean’s eyes, tears welling up in them. His voice breaks when he finally speaks up.

“Who is that with her?” He sounds like the world has been ripped from him.

Sasha speaks up from her side of the table, having seen the post as well. “I don’t know.. maybe they’re just friends. Don’t overthink it, it’ll be okay.”

He sends a pitiful look her way, it most definitely would not be okay. He takes his phone back from Connie, rising from the table, hell bent on getting back home. His brain is going a mile a minute thinking about you and.. whoever that was.

Two months, fifteen days.

He stays in his room all week. Barely leaving, laid up in bed scrolling through your entire instagram. All the pictures of you and him are gone. He can’t believe you got rid of them, did you delete them off your phone entirely? Were all those pictures slowly being replaced by new ones with this guy? He hates the thought of this stranger taking up camera space that should be his. He knows he shouldn’t.. looking through this idiot’s instagram isn’t going to make him feel any better, but he has to know why you chose him instead.

He swipes through this guy’s pictures, he’s even got a stupid name. Who spells their kids' name Eren? There aren’t a ton of posts, but the few that Jean does see has him rolling his eyes, gym selfies and photos of him playing a guitar, his long hair flowing down his shoulders. Great, so he’s ripped and talented. Jean’s not out of shape by any means, but he isn’t as cut as that, especially since he’s been skipping the gym the past couple of months, unable to find the energy to go, and he definitely can’t play any instruments. Maybe he should learn, would that impress you enough to finally reach out to him? No, that would take way too long, he wants to hear from you so much sooner than that. Maybe he can start growing his hair out.. would you like that? You never complained about his hair before but, this whole thing has thrown him for a loop. He’s questioning everything about himself wondering what Eren has that he doesn’t. Maybe Eren’s better in bed? No, that can’t be it. You never once complained about Jean’s performance, all those pretty sounds you made when he touched and kissed and sucked at all the right spots. No, he definitely knew what he was doing in that department. So, that can’t be it, which almost makes it worse. That must mean Jean failed you in some other way as a partner. Was he not attentive enough, not supportive enough? Did he not make enough time for you? Maybe he should have tried to plan more dates. The thoughts go on and on like this until he finally falls into a fitful sleep, what little dreams he has are plagued with you laughing at Eren’s stupid jokes, of you being happier with Eren than you ever were with him.

Jean is sitting up on the sofa in the living room, Connie had begged him to at least come out of his room so he knows the poor guy’s still alive. Jean is scrolling through yours and Eren’s pages, checking yet again for any more posts.

“Dude, seriously? Are you looking at that guy’s page again?” Connie asks, as he sits down on the couch with a bowl of cereal.

Jean gives him a noncommittal grunt, before shoving his phone in Connie’s face. “I mean, what does she even see in him? He’s not that good looking and he has stupid hair. He probably can’t even play that guitar.”

Connie gives him a sympathetic look, he knows it can’t be easy for Jean to see you with someone else, but it’s been almost three months since you two split. All the same, he’s Jean’s friend, he can’t always tell him what he wants to hear, right? He sets his bowl down with a sigh, bracing himself for what he’s about to say.

“Come on, man. He looks like a decent enough guy. I know this is hard for you, but don’t you want her to be happy?”

“She’s supposed to be happy with me! Me, not this fucker with a guitar, who’s side are you on, anyway?”

“I’m on your side, you know that, but this is nuts, she’s just a chick. You’ve been hung up for almost three months. You need to get back to the shit you used to do. When was the last time you even went to the gym? That used to be so important to you. You should go back, get some endorphins going, that would make you feel better.”

Jean huffs, Connie just doesn’t get it. He gets up off the couch and walks over to the entryway, pushing his shoes on. “She’s not just some chick, dude.” He spits the words out before walking out the door. Maybe a walk would clear his head. He knew in some regards, Connie was right, he hasn’t been taking the best care of himself lately, but his “just a chick” comment has Jean seeing red and he can’t focus on any of the other rational things Connie’s said.

He walks and walks until it gets dark outside, when he finally gets home he scarfs down a protein bar and flops down in bed. Closing his eyes and drifting off relatively quickly, worn out from the walk, maybe he should go back to the gym, he thinks, if a walk has worn him out so much. He doesn’t know how long he sleeps for, but the buzzing from his night table lulls him out of sleep. Bleary eyed and groggy, he picks up the phone staring at the screen. He must be seeing things. Or he’s still asleep and this is a dream. He sits up abruptly, rubbing his eyes, looking at the screen again. Sure enough, it’s your name that’s up on the screen, the phone is still buzzing in his hand as he stares at the caller id. It finally hits him that if he doesn’t answer it’ll go to voicemail and you might not call back. He fumbles to swipe his finger over the answer key, almost dropping his phone in the process.

“Hello?” Jean tries to make his voice sound calm and not rushed, despite the fact that his heart is practically beating out of his chest over something as simple as a phone call, at the prospect of actually hearing your voice for the first time in months.

“Hey, uh, it’s me. Well, duh, you probably know that.” Your voice sounds just as angelic as he remembers and part of him thinks he might cry right on the spot. “um, listen, I didn’t know who else to call, I-I know it’s late.”

“No, no, I’m uh, I’m awake. Wha-what’s up?” He hates how nervous he sounds, but he can’t help it, even his hands are shaking.

“Can you come over? There’s like, a leak in my apartment, and the office is closed, I just don’t want to lose my deposit. I’m sure they’ll find some way to blame it on me and not their shitty plumbing. I mean.. Obviously, if you’re busy, it’s okay, I can figure something else out.”

So, you’re calling him to come help you, not Eren, interesting. Jean feels over the moon, maybe Eren isn’t all he’s cracked up to be after all.

“No, I’m not busy, it’s fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Just try to soak up all the water you can.” Jean says as he scrambles off his bed, going to the bathroom to check his hair in the mirror, smoothing some parts that got ruffled in his sleep. He looks at his shirt, cursing silently that he’s still wearing this sweaty t-shirt. He puts you on speaker and quickly pulls the fabric off, throwing it in the hamper.

“Thank you so much, you’re really doing me a huge favor.”

He pulls a fresh shirt over his head, the shirt getting caught in his frantic movements causing him to have to talk louder than normal, so you can hear him over the muffle of the fabric, “yeah, it’s no problem, I’ll be there soon.” He’d do you a million favors if it meant he got to see you. You hang up and he slips on his shoes, rushing out the door to get to your place with his tools.

Jean’s heart is hammering out of his chest the whole drive to your place, it feels like his body is vibrating with anxiety. He’s practically white knuckling his steering wheel, his brain just going and going. He finally gets to see you, he’ll get to see you. He hopes you’re wearing his favorite pair of sweats. He always thought you looked so cute in them, so comfy and cozy. Excitement is starting to bubble in, until he thinks, oh, god. What if he’s there? What if Jean has to see you and Eren together in person, in a situation where he can’t just walk away. Oh, fuck, why didn’t he think about this before? He was just so excited to hear your voice, to see you, that he wasn’t thinking. If he has to see this idiot touch you right in front of him he thinks he might punch him. That would not look good on him, you’d probably even get mad at him, that’s the last thing he needs. He pulls up to your apartment before he knows it, punching in the gate code that he still has memorized, begging and praying to whatever good karma he’s drummed up in the universe, that Eren fucking Jaegar is not in your apartment with you.

He knocks on your door, fussing with his hair a little as he bounces on the balls of his feet, unsure what to do with all this nervous energy. When he hears the lock disengage he pulls his hand away from his hair as fast as he can, trying to look as casual as possible, like he hasn’t thought about you every second of every day for the past three months.

“H-hi,” you answer the door, obviously feeling a little uncomfortable with this whole situation yourself, but he doesn’t know if it’s the same kind of nerves he’s having or something else. But fuck, you look so pretty, so so pretty, with your hair draped over your shoulders in loose waves, the way you always wore it before, wearing a crew neck and some shorts.

“He-” Jean’s voice cracks, it fucking cracks. Seriously? What, is he sixteen again? He clears his throat and starts again, “Hey,”

You let him in, and he gets enveloped in your smell, he practically sighs as he breathes in the familiar comfortable scent of you and your things. He didn’t know you could miss a person’s smell this much. He looks around expecting to see the place how he remembers, but he’s thrown off when everything looks different. You’ve rearranged all your furniture. Thankfully, though, you’re the only one here, there’s no sign of another guy having been here at all. He lets out a little sigh of relief, following you into the kitchen where sopping towels are littering the floor.

“I just came home from work and found it like this. I don't know what happened.” you say, waving your arm to the floor.

“Well, let’s just see. I’m sure it’s just a loose rivet or something,” Jean walks past you, trying his best not to let your proximity as he does get to him, fighting the urge to just take you in his arms and not let go. That’s not why he’s here, you didn’t call him for that. He’s thankful that you called him for an actual task, something for him to focus on so he’s not just staring at you, he’s afraid if he stares too long he’ll snap.

You stand in the kitchen with him while he patches everything up, it’s an easy fix, just like he thought. A baby with a wrench could fix this, so again, his mind drifts back to why you called him and not Eren, not that he’s complaining. He thinks it all feels very domestic, you watching him fix up things around the house. He’d fix everything you asked him too if he could hold onto this feeling. He’s surprised when you crouch down next to him, trying to see what he’s doing.

“It was loose, right here, I’m just tightening it up.” He smiles as he looks at you briefly, he can’t help it, you just look so pretty and you’re right next to him, right where you belong.

You smile back at him and he feels his heart lurch again, turning the wrench a little more, satisfied with his work, he catches your eye, “and that should do it, you should be all set now.”

He stands up, wiping his hands on his pants before offering you a hand up. When you take his hand he bites back a smile at the feel of your hand in his again after so much time, even if it is a harmless interaction. Standing up with him, you don’t pull your hand away right away, lingering there for just a second too long. Did he imagine that? No, no you definitely lingered.

You brush a strand of hair behind your ear and smile at him sheepishly. “Thanks again, I really appreciate it.” God, your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“It’s not a problem, I don’t mind helping you.” Jean runs a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck, looking away from you, still nervous. He knows the whole reason he came is taken care of now, and he doesn’t want to leave, but he thinks that’s what you might want.

“So, I should–”

“Do you want–”

You both speak at once, sharing a nervous chuckle. Jean lets you go first, giving you a look that says so.

“Do you, um.. Want a drink?” You look nervous, awkward. Surely he’s imagining it, he doesn't want to get his hopes up too high. “It’s the least I could do, calling you over here on a Friday night. I’m sure you had better things to do.” You give him another shy smile and he swears he could melt into a puddle right there.

“Uh, sure. Y-yeah, a drink sounds good.”

“All I have are those hard seltzers I usually get, that okay?” you ask like you expect him to remember, and he does. He wants you to know how much he remembers about you; everything, he remembers everything.

So, just drinks for yourself? No beer, no liquor, nothing he thinks a guy like Eren might drink. Interesting. So far, everything he’s observed has led him to the conclusion that maybe you and Eren aren’t together. Maybe Sasha was right, and the two of you are just friends?

“That’s fine,” He bends down, putting his wrench away, placing his tool bag on your counter. Turning back to look at you, the slim can in your hand as you hold it out to him. He takes it, following you over to the couch where you both take a seat next to each other.

His body feels like it’s vibrating, sitting this close to you. You didn’t have to sit this close, but you did. He pops the tab, taking a drink to calm his nerves, and you do the same.

“So, how have you been? It’s been a while.” You speak so softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear again, a nervous habit. Are you feeling the same tension he is? Is he making it all up because he missed you so much?

“Uh, good, good.” He lies, what is he supposed to say? That he’s been completely miserable without you? No, if he’s wrong and you have moved on, he has to at least pretend he’s been doing alright. “Work is, well, work, you know. Haven’t been doing much else. What about you?”

“Y-yeah, no, things are, um, they’re okay. I finally got promoted at work.” you smile at him again, before taking another sip. “I’m officially management.”

Pride swells in his chest, he knows how badly you wanted to move up in your job, how much you craved more responsibility. He’s glad your place of work is finally acknowledging your potential.

“Hey, that’s great. I’m really happy for you,” and he is, genuinely. “Is it everything you wanted it to be?”

You give a little snort, “I mean, I guess. Workplace drama is a lot more stressful when you’re actually the one in charge of trying to defuse it, instead of just listening to all the gossip.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re handling it fine, you were always good at that kind of stuff.”

You huff a little laugh again, thanking him before pulling the sleeves of your crew neck up while adjusting your position on the couch. That’s when he sees it, that little glimmer of silver on your wrist. His heart pounds harder as he sees it. You’re still wearing your bracelet. You still have it.

“You’re still wearing that,” Jean points out, his voice coming out little more than a whisper, like he just can’t believe it, his eyes locked on the bracelet.

A blush blooms across your cheeks and Jean is positive it’s not just the alcohol. Fuck not getting his hopes up, you wouldn’t still be wearing something he got you if you didn’t miss him a little bit.

“Oh, yeah..” you fiddle with the bracelet with your free hand, “I um.. I feel a little naked without it, you know?” you cheeks are still flushed as you look up at him.

Jean just smiles at you, “yeah, I know what you mean.” he says as he pulls the chain out from under his shirt. “I got so used to wearing it everyday, it just doesn’t feel right with it off.” It’s not even a lie, just, not a full truth. His nerves are slowly fading away, getting replaced with renewed hope.

“Well, it does still look good on you,” you reach your hand up to run your fingers along the chain, Jean feels a jolt of electricity in your touch that practically lights his skin on fire, and that’s when he really knows. There’s no way you’d be touching him like this if you didn’t miss him, if you were seeing someone else. He’s never felt so much relief in his life. “Suits you, for sure.”

He takes his hand placing it over yours, goosebumps prickling his skin where your fingers dance along the chain. “You..um, you have good taste,” he says, his breath turning a little shallow, he knows he’s not imagining all the tension that’s been slowly building up since he got here. “I never would have picked anything like this for myself.”

Your hand is so small in his, he’s always been bigger than you, taller, more muscular. He didn't realize how much he missed it until now, he was so caught up with missing all the other parts of you that this bit seemed to have slipped his mind. You’re looking at him with your pretty doe eyes, letting him hold your hand, he can practically see the hearts in your eyes, looking at him like you used to. Fuck it, he’s going for it. Drinks completely forgotten on the coffee table as he scoots a little closer to you, just enough so that your knees are touching.

“I’ve really missed you.” He whispers, leaning in just a little closer, he hears your breath hitch in your throat, your eyes flitting to his lips.

He smiles as you lean in too. You want it just as much as he does. “Me too..”

When he finally presses his lips to yours he almost explodes with happiness, he’s feeling giddy, all these pent up feelings pouring out into your lips. He cups the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, a silent request for permission. He sighs as you grant it, opening your mouth for him so he can glide his tongue along yours, and you moan into his mouth. You fucking moan. He loses any semblance of control he had. His hands move, roaming over your back and the two of you lose yourselves in the moment. Without really thinking about it he pulls you onto his lap, moving his mouth to press hot kisses to your neck, nipping the sensitive skin. It always was one of your favorite spots. His hands run under your sweatshirt, caressing your back, savoring the feel of your soft skin under his palms.

“Missed you so fucking much.” Jean breathes out between kisses, groaning as you grind your hips onto his lap when he kisses your neck again.

“Missed you too. Thought…Thought about you all the time…” Your words are broken up by little gasps. Jean thinks he could die happy, just like this, but then your hands go to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off, running your hands over the contours of his chest and he feels like he’s going to burn out of his skin.

His hands follow suit with yours, pulling your sweatshirt off, discarding it on the floor next to his, drinking in the sight of you, sighing when he sees your bare chest. Running his hands over your tits, kissing his way down your neck and your collarbone before taking one of your nipples into his mouth and starts kissing and sucking, pinching at the other one with his free hand. You arch your back into his touch and he moves his hands back around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He just needs you closer, so much closer.

You just grind against him, he can feel the heat coming off of you, listening to your breath get more and more ragged as you wrap your arms around his neck in order to get closer, pulling his head up.

“I’m sorry. Jean, I’m so sorry.. I never should have–” your voice sounds broken, despite the desire and need coursing through the both of you. It breaks his heart to hear you sounding so sad. You don’t even have to explain what you’re apologizing for, he already knows.

Jean cuts you off with a kiss, running his fingers through your hair, shushing you softly. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He soothes, pressing soft kisses between his words. “Later. We’ll talk about it later, yeah?” He pulls back, pressing his forehead to yours, looking in your eyes with all the love he has for you.

You give him a feeble little nod, kissing him passionately. Your tongues glide together as you taste each other, making up for lost time, and god, does he want to make up for it. With that in mind, his hands move to the plush of your ass, squeezing as you keep your lips on him. As much as he doesn’t want to push you away from him, he needs to touch you. He runs his hands over your bare thighs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, pushing you back just enough so he can get the leverage he needs. Tugging them off, you lift your hips to help him. He looks down and sees you clad in lace, one of his favorite pairs. A brief look of surprise as his brain sorts through it. You… you planned for this, at least to some degree. All doubts completely leave his head as a satisfied grin curls on his lips.

“You wear these just for me, baby?” He murmurs into your ear as he nips at your earlobe, fingers already dancing along the sides of your panties.

You give him another nod and a breathy little sound that he assumes, if you were able to form the words, would be a confirmation. He pushes the material aside, running a finger through your folds. Shit, you're so fucking wet for him. He’s going to lose his mind. His finger swirls around your clit, eliciting moans and gasps from you. You’re already starting to squirm for him and he doesn’t let up, still swirling little circles with the pad of his finger.

“J-Jean,” you moan out his name and cling to him, holding his head tightly to your chest.

“‘M right here, baby, I got you. You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?”

“Y-yes, yes, yes, fuck!” He feels your legs shaking on him, still moving his hand. God, he missed seeing you like this.

“That’s it, that’s my girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl, did so well for me. ” He purrs into your skin, pressing kisses to your neck, giving you a second to catch your breath.

Turns out you don’t even want a breather, your hands moving desperately to his lap, frantically trying to undo his buttons, slipping your hand in and wrapping around his cock.

“Fuck,” Jean groans under his breath, lifting his hips with you still on his lap, so he can shove his pants down enough for you pull him all the way out.

Your hand pumps him, smearing the precum over his flushed tip, causing him to suck in a sharp breath. You keep working him, your hands are always so soft, twisting your wrist a bit on the way up, squeezing the tip just a little. He loves the way he looks in your hands, your smaller ones making him look even bigger. His eyes catch a little glimmer, and he groans again when he sees you jerking him with your bracelet bouncing on your wrist with your movements. All he can think about is that you’re his, you're his, you're his. That one little accessory tells the whole world. Maybe he’ll replace it with a ring. He leans forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck, taking a shaky breath.

“Shit, you’re makin’ me feel so good, but I don’t… fuck, I don’t want to cum like this.” He pulls back to look in your eyes, seeing nothing but how good you want to make him feel and he doesn’t know what he did to deserve you.

He pulls your panties to the side again, lifting you up, lining himself up with your entrance and pulls you down onto him. Jean thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. He has never felt anything better than you wrapped around him like this. You both let out audible moans, as you adjust to him. Without any warning, you start bouncing on him. His eyes roll back as he drops his head to the back of the couch. Your bounces are slow, deliberate, he’s sure he’s in heaven.

“You feel so good. Love how full you make me feel.” You murmur, breathy, into his ear, bracing yourself on his shoulders.

As much as he’d love to just sit here and bask in you riding him, he’s going to cum way too soon if he lets you keep going like this, especially if you keep using that mouth of yours to whisper everything he’s been wanting to hear for the past three months in his ear. He moves his hands back to your ass, grabbing handfuls of you, doing the work for you for another second or two before he wraps his arm around your waist he starts fucking up into you.

“Missed my pussy so much, baby. She’s mine, yeah? That’s what this means doesn’t it?” He growls, taking your wrist, adorned with your bracelet, showing it to you. “That’s why you never took it off? Been mine this whole time haven’t you?”

Your walls squeeze him, as you hear his words, and he groans again. “All yours, Jean.. al-always yours.”

In all his desperation to get close to you, to get inside of you, he didn’t think your panties would cause a problem, but at this point they’re in his way, they won’t stay to one side. He moves his hand, gripping the flimsy garment, and pulls hard, tearing them.

“Jean!” You protest, looking down at where the two of you are connected.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” He mutters before he picks up his pace, finally able to fuck you the way he wants, slamming his hips up into you.

You don’t seem to care so much anymore, as your eyes roll back, and you let out a cry. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, moving to bury your face in his neck. And for Jean, right now, that just won’t do, he wants to see you, wants to see your face contorted in pleasure. He brings his hand to the back of your neck, tugging your hair so you’re looking at him.

“Look at me, baby, wanna see you.” Shit, he already feels close. Not having you for all these months, and finally getting you, getting to see in your face how good he’s making you feel and how much you missed him too. He didn’t think he was going to last long anyway. He brings his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily, all tongues and teeth.

“Ba-baby, ‘m close,” you whine, eyes glazed over, face scrunched up just the way he likes.

“Me too, cum with me, yeah?” His hand snakes between you, finding your clit, rubbing circles on it with his thumb.

He feels you clenching around him, cunt pulsing and god he missed this feeling, missed feeling you come apart just for him. You say his name again and again like a prayer and he just can’t hold back anymore.

“Fuck, baby, I’m shit–” He tries to warn you so you can get off of him, but you just stay put, slamming down on him again and again. He cums hard, painting your insides white.

Still holding onto you tightly, one hand on your neck and the other around your waist, you both just stay locked in an embrace, panting. Each of your heads are resting on the others shoulders, Jean presses little kisses there while he catches his breath.

“God, I really did miss you so much.” He whispers into your skin. “And not just this, all of it. I missed all of you.”

“I know, I missed you too. I wanted to call you or text you, or anything. I just…didn’t think you wanted to talk to me.” Your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck and he just savors the moment.

Neither one of you moves, you just sit there holding each other. You haven’t even gotten off of him yet, his cock going soft inside you, feeling his cum leak out onto his lap, but he couldn’t care less. He just runs his fingertips up and down your back tenderly.

“You really scared me, you know that?” Jean says when he finally feels like breaking the silence.

You lift your head, giving him a puzzled look. “What do you mean? How did I scare you?”

Jean sighs, it sounds stupid now, in hindsight, thinking that you had moved on. “I thought you were dating that Eren guy. You posted a picture with him and I kind of freaked out.”

It seems like it takes a second for his words to register, because you’re quiet for a moment before you burst into a full fit of laughter. Jean just gives you a pointed look. He doesn’t see what’s so funny about that. You’re laughing so hard you practically roll off of him, landing on your side on the couch, your legs still draped over him. He follows suit, cuddling you when he gets onto his side.

“What’s so funny?”

You finally stop laughing long enough to answer him. “Eren? EW.” you manage to get out before you start giggling again. “He’s like a brother to me, we grew up together. I haven’t seen him before that post since he left for school. You really thought I was dating Eren??”

Jean’s cheeks flush, a little pout forming on his face. “What was I supposed to think? He was way too close to you in that picture.”

Your laughter subsides, and you brush some hair out of his face, giving him a soft smile. “He just took me out for the day because I was so sad about you. I felt like I’d made a big mistake, and he just wanted to get my mind off of it for a little while. Besides, even if he wasn’t like a brother, he’s been in love with the same girl from middle school since he was like, twelve years old.”

You look like you have more to say but you’re hesitating. Clearly feeling a little nervous, he just nudges you gently, wanting you to continue.

You take a deep breath before going on, “I am sorry.. I shouldn’t have broken up with you, and for such a stupid reason.”

“What was the reason, exactly?” He asks, he never actually got the full story.

“I just… I liked you too much, things were going too well. I guess I kind of panicked, wondering when the other shoe was going to drop.”

Jean just stares at you, of all the reasons he thought it was, he didn’t think it was this.

“So… you broke up with me, because things were going too well?”

“It sounds stupid when you say it like that!” You bury your face into his chest, hiding your blush. “I said I was sorry.”

“What if there’s no other shoe? What if we’re just good together? Did you think about that?” He asks, no malice or hurt in his voice, just genuine curiosity. He presses a little kiss to the top of your head, trying to soothe you.

“There’s always another shoe.” You mutter, not bothering to lift your head up.

Jean sighs, taking your chin in his hand, pulling you up so that you’re eye to eye with him. “Baby, I promise, I will do everything in my power to ensure that there is no other shoe, okay? You have a problem, just talk to me. Let me be there for you, let me try and make things better. I’m not saying everything will be perfect all the time, but just know I’ll try my damndest for you.” He presses a kiss to your lips, sealing his promise.

“Yeah.. okay,” you finally give him another smile, and he kisses you again, unable to resist. “So, can I be your girlfriend again?”

“As long as you promise not to break up with me for such a stupid reason ever again.” He smiles at you again, pressing another kiss to your forehead before pulling you back into his chest.

“Promise,” you mumble as you nuzzle into him.

Jean’s happier than he’s been in months, with you in his arms, right back where you belong.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes and Reblogs are always appreciated!💖

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