How Boyfriend!Gojo Satoru deals with you when you’re moody 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯
“Stop looking at me,” you snap. “Stop touching me. Just stop.”
Satoru points to himself, eyes wide and jaw dropping. “What did I do?”
“Can you leave, Gojo? I can’t deal with you right now.”
His jaw drops even more.
For the last hour or so, you’ve been scrolling through your phone, annoyed by the lack of good things to read or catch up on. Meanwhile, your boyfriend’s been lounging beside you, long leg thrown over the back of the sofa, head propped up on his arm as he watches cartoons on the TV and throws caramel popcorn into his mouth. Once in a while, he’d say, “Baby, baby! Look at this!”, “Do you think I should dye my hair? Maybe pink like Yuji and we can go around pretending to be twins?”, or something along those lines. Every time he reached for you, trying to get your attention, you’d shake him off, glaring.
You’ve reached your limit. But it seems so has he; he turns the TV off and grumbles, “Fine. I’ll go since I’m clearly not wanted here. I’ll just put my life on the line fighting curses, or whatever.” Satoru teleports out of your living room.
Guilt hits you instantly — what is wrong with you? He’s never spoken to you like that, even at his worst. He was spending his free time, which is far and few between, with you, although you’re not very amusing right now. And there you were talking down to him, like he was a child. You’re a terrible girlfriend.
Sighing, you call his phone. He picks up on the first ring. “Satoru? Can you come back? Please.”
He reappears before you barely a second later, arms crossed and chin up. Satoru haughtily asks, “Something you need?”
“Yes, for you to forgive me,” you reply, rounding the coffee table to hug him. He doesn’t return it but he doesn’t push you away either. “I’m sor—Oh.”
Something sweet’s shoved between your lips. You chew on a piece of chocolate chip cookie, blinking up at him.
Satoru, holding a bag of them and feeding you like you’re a duck, says, “I know, I know. I’m incredible, unbelievably handsome, I deserve to be treated like a prince, you want to worship my very existence for all eternity, and so on and so forth. Save it, babe. I already know all of that. Just like I know you’re nearing the time of your month. Must suck being a woman, huh? Better you than me though.”
Then he teleports himself back on the sofa, with you in his arms. TV back on, he presses a wet kiss to your cheek and adds,
“Gosh, you’re scary when hormonal. It’s hot.”
I hc he doesn't hold grudges, not against his fave people at least
eating would be fine if it was only a recreational activity. instead, its a horrible sisiphean nightmare and you need to do it every day without fail on threat of pain and death
Reminder that spring will always come back, music will never stop being created, and there are still so many books left to read! You’re alive! You’re alive! You’re alive!
Y'all had a huge crush on eachother and when y'all were in the king of clubs game and y'all were about to lose so u guys spent the time before u die having sex in one of shipping containers ‼️
the way there is no kyuma smut on here is just so mind blowing to me… the man was BUILT FOR IT perhaps i’ll just have to take matters into my own hands
you couldn’t stand him. him; with his fiery spirit and loud ass voice. his overly positive persona and his ridiculous motivational speeches. everybody loved the happy-go-lucky flame hashira, rengoku kyojuro. everyone except you.
you were his complete opposite. the ying to his yang. the stormy clouds to his clear skies. if he was happiness, you were pure disdain. he was the light, you were the shadow.
—-
you had been a hashira for a little while before he first showed up. growing up on the streets of the entertainment district, you were used to seeing seedy men and shady women. children always roamed these narrow lanes. bastard children, orphaned children, sick children, rich children, poor children, and children who had no recollection of their past. you fell in the last category.
there were all types of people treading on the streets of the entertainment district. those who seeked pleasure, those you offered pleasure, those who wanted blood and the ones caught in the crossfire. you didn’t know your parents. your mother could’ve been a whore, your father could’ve been a pimp; either way you were a bastard, an orphan, a nobody. the streets were equally shiny as they were tainted. tainted with lost dreams, tears and greed of everyone who made that place stand on its feet. shiny for the rich alone.
you had seen a lot of darkness in your life. with young eyes you saw the horrors of your little corner of the world. people were sleazy, fake, liars, cheats and all they ever thought about was their own desires. be it money, women or global domination. men only wanted one thing and women did whatever they could to survive. the children of the streets were like rats. left to fend for themselves since being brought into the world against their will. you were one of those rats. scampering and skittering around dark alleys, sniffing out the smallest of crumbs for another day in the sun.
the first time you killed a demon was out of pure curiosity. it was a small demon and you were a small girl so the playing field was level. the only thing you can remember now is the taste of blood that filled your mouth and the feeling that filled your heart when you stared into the yellow eyes of the monster that had its claws wedged into your cheek. it snarled at you and spewed some bullshit you couldn’t possibly remember. you saw darkness and felt yourself sinking into the shadows as the pain overcame your senses. at that point nothing mattered. you felt pure, bubbling hate. hate towards the world, the people, and now these creatures. and you don’t know what happened after that. one thing led to another and the last thing you remember is standing on your two little feet with your little hand clutching the demon’s disappearing head.
you killed men and demons; both synonymous in your mind. you liked to watch as the soul left their body. you relished the feeling as you watched their bones turn to dust. the feeling of pain and killing filled your heart with longing. longing you had never felt before in your little life. you longed for food, kindness, warmth as a child. yet you received pain, starvation and the cold, wet surface of the rough streets of the entertainment district. men used you, women feared you and the children loathed you. it was then you realized, you had a hunger for killing. maybe it was to quench your anger at the world. maybe it was righteousness. mostly it was to feel something. but killing didn’t make you feel joy. it didn’t soothe your longing. it only made you feel like you were the one in control. since corpses can’t hurt you.
then kagaya ubuyashiki found you. he was unlike any man you had ever met before. his demeanour was soft, calm. like a cool breeze on a hot, summer’s day. his voice eased your stormy mind and hazy soul. his wife, lady amane ubuyashiki was much the same. kind, gentle, motherly. however, she had a sort of hatred in her eyes. not towards you; more towards something greater, something more vast. something you hadn’t encountered yet. they saved you and since then you had wholeheartedly dedicated your turbulent existence to fight for their cause.
you got your hands on a scythe and trained from dusk till dawn. slaughtering any demon that crossed your path. the day was spent killing rapists and murderers and the night was reserved for the soulless. by the time you were 18 you had killed over 70 demons, one or two lower moons and god knows how many men. the master had taught you about breathing styles and sword techniques. after which you created your own breathing style: shadow breathing. you were a rat. you excelled at sneaking around soundlessly, slitting throats left and right, before they could make a single sound. you were like the shadows creeping around in a mind’s eye.
from the streets of promiscuity and shadows, you became the shadow hashira in the demon slayer corps. wielding a long, lean scythe with a shadowy black blade you knelt before the master along with your fellow, fucked up colleagues. then comes along rengoku kyojuro, the subject of your disdain.
—-
rengoku kyojuro was your complete opposite. the man oozed justice, truth and righteousness. you remember when he first showed up at the ubuyashiki headquarters instead of his father, shinjuro rengoku, the former flame hashira. a hopeful young man with eyes filled with determination and a heart filled with fire. his voice was pure, untainted and booming with power. but nothing about him was selfish. everything he did was for the good of humanity, to protect measly humans, to fight for the weak. you were selfish whereas he was the most selfless human being you had ever seen in your life.
“i will defeat the lower moon in the stead of my father,” he announced. “what bullshit,” you thought. yet he came back, battered and bruised with the same smile on his face, whilst adorning the signature flame hashira haori. he was intriguing, you couldn’t deny that; but god, did he piss you off.
——————————————————————————
a.n: yeah, so this is not proofread or well-thought out in the slightest. this is not complete either. i might complete it, if you guys want more 😀
attack on titan modern college au // Jean Kirstein x fem!reader
notes: I’M BAAACK, still struggling with uni stuff, but had some time to write so enjoy another long smut+fluff and my own little sketch of a modern au Jeanbo [he can have it]
cw: 18+ smut! explicit language, lot of teasing, sending nudes hehe, unprotected sex in various positions, both receiving oral, spanking, dirty talk, and some sweet little fluff at the end(:
wc: 8,6k
Jeanbo
wanna bring that smartass over, Rocky Balboa?
Connie’s out for the night
You chuckled at your phone, the stupid nickname instantly flooding your mind with memories of the brutal physical fight of the previous day.
It started out as an innocent afternoon of studying, the four of you gathering in your dorm for a scientific conference like the sophisticated citizens of the university that you are — but it quickly turned into a boxing match when Jean stole your pen to write "I'm a loser" across your neatly organized notes. Connie and Sasha had no choice but to watch with motionless, completely unconcerned expressions as Jean digged his fingers under your ribcage as a self-defense move, and you (being slightly ticklish) decked your fist into his face as a reflex.
"Pfft, would you be Rocky Balboa?" Ymir scoffed after she stopped pushing you, grabbing the chain of the swing you were sitting on, so she could read the text you were so amused by.
"You phould phee Jean's nose, phe nearly broke it.” Sasha's words fell victim to the giant lollipop filling her mouth, neither of her hands free as she was hanging from the monkey bars, exactly as an orangutan would be casually chilling.
"It was an accident!" you unconsciously raised your hand to your nose, an embarrassed tint of pink dusting your cheeks as Sasha reminded you of the injury you caused to Jean. He kinda deserved it, but you didn't mean to hurt him.
Sasha let go of the cold metal bars, hopping onto the thin dust of snow covering the ground. As if the chilly air bit into her cheeks, they glowed with a vivid red blush even in the dim, grey lights of the winter afternoon dusk. "It was a perfectly executed right hook, but it's okay."
"Hard to believe, with all due disrespect," Ymir sneered underneath the furry trim on the hood of her coat as she pulled on the chains again, pushing you in the swing with such force that your attempts at texting back to Jean instantly failed. "I would knock you out in a second."
"And Mikasa would knock you out in half a second," you grimaced as you digged the heels of your boots into the rigid ground, fighting back against Ymir's evil strength. "So what are you saying?"
Sasha giggled with the stick of the lollipop between her teeth and you smiled. Even though you couldn't see her face, the moment of hesitant silence was enough of a sign — Ymir knew it was true.
"Yeah, sure, in your dreams," she scoffed.
In contrast to your desperate twitching as you fought back against Ymir, Mikasa sat on the other swing like a picture of serenity. Her legs moved ever so slightly as she pushed herself off the ground, the small movements of the swing creating a quiet, but eerie creaking sound that would've sent shivers down your spine if you heard it in a horror movie.
Mikasa's eyes moved to Ymir, gazing at her above the big, red scarf that covered the lower part of her face as it wrapped tightly around her. "We can give it a try, if you want.”
"I'd pay an INSANE amount of money to see that fight," Sasha stated after growing impatient and biting down on her lollipop, crunching on it with loud cracks — like she always did with any hard candy.
"I'd pay you an insane amount of money to shut your goddamn mouth," Ymir snapped back right away with her usual snarky tone.
"Ymir!"
"I'll shut up for a couple hundo," Sasha shrugged while her teeth destroyed the last bits of the candy.
"For like two minutes, I suppose,” Ymir snickered, but as usual, Sasha couldn't be less bothered by her bullying, simply nodding in agreement.
"Pretty much."
You shook your head as you laughed, your eyes glued to your phone's screen while your fingers moved fast to reply to Jean, your heart's thumping even faster. It was beating with an excited joy, much more than just a lustful desire. Something that felt so pure, almost innocent — only a couple of hours passed since you ran into him, but still...
You couldn't wait to see him again.
you
i know you'll be waiting for me with a baseball bat to get revenge
but sure thing🤓 see you in 20
"I'm sorry, Mikasa, we have to reschedule me kicking your ass." Ymir's sarcastic tone earned a roll of Mikasa's eyes, even if she couldn't hide the amused spark in them. "I'm outta here"
"Are you going to volleyball practice?" you blurted out the mindless question, instantly knowing it was a mistake to ask.
"I'm going to your mom, actually," Ymir replied as she pushed your back with a vicious force one last time and you bursted out laughing. Right after Jean, Ymir was the second most skilled 'your mom' expert you knew.
"Right, tell her I said hi.”
"Anything for you, my dearest sweetheart," Ymir sneered as she leaned down to pinch your cheek and you let out a painful squeak. "Have fun getting busy with mullet-man."
"You're particularly vile today," Mikasa pointed out, winning an immediate ticket to Ymir's bullying-train as she grabbed the end of her scarf and with a simple movement, threw it on top of Mikasa's head, covering half of her face.
Then Ymir put her hands into the pockets of her coat and simply walked away without a word.
"Bye, girly pop!" Sasha yelled at her as you were chuckling to yourself at the hilarious absurdity of Ymir's behavior and she just raised a hand in the cold winter air as a goodbye.
"Typical" Mikasa commented, then brushed the scarf off of her face.
"Another date night?" Sasha asked you with a huge grin, her voice quivering with excitement as her hands cheered with small little claps. She was almost more excited than you were.
"Not a date night, just... Just hanging out," you replied as casually as you could, but even your hand couldn't hide your sheepish smile as you rubbed the bridge of your nose.
"Suuuure"
"Leave it, she's in love." Mikasa flicked her hand and Sasha let out a heartfelt laugh while you blushed. It's been long, long weeks since you and Jean's little dates and meetups got regular, but you still couldn't gather the strength to admit to your friends how tragically smitten you were.
But you weren't the only one being teased about him — Jean couldn't avoid all the playful pestering in the past few weeks, either.
BAM!
Jean's head jerked back at the impact after a padded shoulder found him in the most unfortunate slouching position as his focus drifted off for a few seconds, hitting his jaw with full force.
"Eyes on me, Jeanbo!" Reiner yelled back above his shoulder, already skating back to his place.
Jean grunted at the sudden pain, then raised his glove to his face. Reiner's strength met his jaw right at a spot that made his vision go black, seeing stars for a couple of seconds. For a moment, he couldn't even remember what drills they were doing.
"Kirstein!"
Jean shook his head to get his thoughts and senses back together, already pushing himself on the ice to skate towards Coach Levi's voice. The new headcoach had a few very strict basic rules which, as his stern stamp has already won the respect of the team, Jean tried to immediately obey as well.
"You're here to collect dust today, I see," Levi said in a low voice, leaning on the boards with both hands. Jean's skates came to a stop in front of him, but the coach nodded his head to order him out to the benches.
"I'm sorry, Coach." Jean's eyes dropped to his skates as he stepped out of the rink, deliberately avoiding to look at Levi. He almost opened his mouth to add an 'I'm tired', but stopped himself immediately. Shitty excuses were a no-go with Coach Ackerman.
"You look like a dog chewed through you, swallowed, then threw you up." Levi's voice was unexpressive, but his grey eyes pierced through Jean's with a coldness exactly as sharp as the stinging, frosty air above the ice rink. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing, Coach, I'm just—I'm a little tired." Jean decided not to explain any further, even if Levi seemed to care. He figured the coach wouldn't appreciate his heartfelt story about the little date of yours the previous night, a spontaneous evening walk turning into hours of conversation, irrationally long laughing fits and cuddling as the first snow of the winter was softly falling down on you. Coach Levi probably wouldn't care about how he just simply couldn't go home, unable to break away from you as you both slipped your arms under each other's coats, warming each other up with tight hugs and sweet, deepening kisses — and he just didn't notice the midnight stars above you, even if they tried to warn him about the late hour.
"It's time to decide if you want to keep dreaming awake in the rink or stay forward in line one, then," the coach bluntly replied with his arms crossed. "Understood?"
"Understood." Jean nodded. The coach was right. He didn't come to the rink at least four times a week for nothing. If anything, he felt a little embarrassed about the fact that others noticed a change in his behavior and focus since... Well, since you were in the picture.
"Maybe try focusing on your goals a little more than your girlfriend, Kirstein," Levi added and that stopped Jean in his tracks. He hesitated for a moment before nodding again, then grabbed the board, jumping over it to get back to the rink. The coach's comment sounded like an honest advice rather than a snarky remark — although Jean had no idea how the hell he knew about your existance.
"A girlfriend? I thought we bros were sharing," a guy slammed into the boards next to him with a loud bang and Jean instantly rolled his eyes. Floch was the third player of their line with Reiner, and Jean could've punched all the teeth out of the disgusting pervy grin that was plastered across his face at that moment.
"Eat shit, dumbass," Jean simply responded before pushing him with his shoulder as he skated back to their assigned corner.
"How about getting your head out of your ass, Forster?!" Levi wasted no time swinging his arm, hitting Floch's helmet with the timer he had in his hand, the loud knock on his head only confusing the guy. "NOW!"
Jean touched the spot on his jaw where Reiner hit him and he hissed at the sharp pain. If it was already feeling sore, he could imagine how colorful it was bound to get later.
"Sorry, man."
"It's fine, Reiner," Jean shook his head, knocking his stick on the ice as a sign to get back to the drills.
Though the bruise instantly felt a lot better when your soft lips pressed onto it, kissing it gently as Jean's hips rolled into you with a steady rhythm. His jeans pooled around his ankles and yours were thrown across the room somewhere, your shirt tugged up your chest to let your perfect boobs bounce freely as Jean devoured the beautiful sight with eager eyes. You two just figured the drawer in their dorm was the perfect height for you to sit on, legs spread wide apart, Jean's hands grabbing the flesh of your ass as your hips met at one messy, sloppy wet spot as he slowly fucked into you.
"You're getting so wet, love," Jean mumbled in your ear and you mewled in response, feeling your slick trickling down your ass as the lewd squelching sounds got louder. There was not a time when Jean didn't make you soaking wet, but there was a special something in the way his thick cock slowly dragged in and out of your pussy that just made it drool in response. Maybe it was the way you felt every inch of him taking the sweet time to rub against your spongy, sensitive spot that made you lose your mind. "S'wet for me."
"It just feels s-so fucking good," you moaned, your sweet voice and your warm walls squeezing around him making Jean groan in pleasure. You pressed another soft kiss onto the purple bruise on his sharp jaw, then gently ran your finger over it. "Please keep fucking me so slowly, baby"
"Holy—shit" Jean squeezed his eyes shut as his head started spinning. He was a sight to see as he struggled not to fill you up right then and there. His breathing ragged, a gorgeous flush on his cheeks, small beads of sweat glistening at the line of his soft hair, a few ashy brown strands falling into your face as he pressed his forehead to yours. You clung onto his broad shoulders for dear life as your eyes wandered down to his happy trail glistening with your mixed wetness, then his throbbing cock, splitting you apart...
"I—I'm so close," you whispered desperately and Jean's lips crashed into yours in a sloppy kiss, his moans into your mouth making you whimper in response. "Hnngh"
"Am I making you feel good, pretty girl?"
"So good, baby," you pressed your forehead to his again and your fingers glided along his stubble, behind his ear, then to the back of his head to lovingly entwine with long strands of his hair. Your big doe eyes pierced through his with such an intense glint of pleasure, your cheeks and lips so plump and burning with heat, Jean felt himself stumble closer to the edge at the beautiful sight. "You're stretching me out so good, please don't stop, I—I'm..."
He tried to squeeze his eyes shut to hold back, last a little longer, but you calling him baby, praising his every movement, and your soft moans against his lips mercilessly whirled his mind even further.
"Fuuu—fuck, I can't," Jean grunted and you let out a devastated shriek at the sudden loss of him inside you as he pulled out. He moaned looking at the string of your clear wetness connecting you to his swollen tip, his cock hard and heavy, slightly bobbing as he got down on one knee in front of you.
"Nooo, what are you doing?" you hopelessly cried out as Jean looked up at you with an apologetic smile, both of his hands sliding up your thighs, large fingers harshly digging into the flesh, his hot breath tickling you as it grazed your sensitive clit.
"I'm sorry, love, I don't want to cum yet," he mumbled into you as his lips already pressed on your puffy lips. You didn't even have a chance to reply as his warm tongue glided through your slit, making your eyes roll back into your hand.
The way Jean could eat you out — how he was practically making out with your pussy, cruelly licking you into madness, his tongue feeling soft, yet so sloppy, so nasty... It just made you lose all control. You caressed the bruise on his jaw, unable to take your eyes off of the gorgeous man burrying his face into your core.
"Oh my fff— God, you're so fucking hot." Your head was spinning as you whimpered, Jean's deep grunts sending such ecstatic vibrations through your center that your fingers had to clutch into his hair for support. As your legs trembled, your fingers tugging on his hair, Jean's composure started crumbling — he moaned loudly at the pleasure, your fingers tugged even more harshly, his moans into your warmth got even louder...
Then to Jean's own surprise, he suddenly came undone.
Without warning, hot spurts of cum wet the floor below him, running down his untouched length with a yearning anguish — and that was the time you realized that Jean really, really liked his hair being pulled.
From then on, you made sure to take advantage of this little secret weak spot of his. Nothing crazy though, just lightly grabbing his hair while you softly moaned in his ear about how good he's fucking you, lacing your fingers through his strands, pulling him closer to you as you described to him how amazing his cock made you feel — your sweet voice mumbling these dirty confessions, paired with the heavenly sensation of your delicate fingers running through his hair at the nape of his neck, pulling on it, made it extremely difficult for him not to cum instantly.
"Fuck... You know exactly what you're doing, right?" Jean would huff as he slowed down the stern snapping of his hips, answering the mischievous glint in your eyes with a few large fingers stuffing your mouth full to shut you up for a little while. "M'sorry, baby, I have to."
And as the naughty spark turned into desperate tears in your eyes, you couldn't help but moan around Jean's fingers in agreement. You did exactly know what you were doing. But you just couldn't help it. The more familiar you became with each other's bodies, the more you discovered of all the little things that made Jean feel good. And you wanted nothing more than to make him feel so, so good.
Jean loved making out with you. Even the smallest, soft little pecks made his core tingle that your pretty lips pressed onto his, but the way your tongue danced around his, so eager to feel him in your mouth, just made him melt. Both of your moans and sweet saliva meeting in the sloppy kisses felt so good, so dirty, his cheeks always flushed with a pretty red color that you loved to admire. And the intense eye contact paired with the delicate touch of your fingers on his warm skin didn't help his state.
Touch was another thing you loved to use to your advantage in making a puddle out of him. You could feel the goosebumps that formed on his skin as you gently ran your fingers along the muscles of his arm, fingertips ever so slightly touching him, or when you innocently slid your palm over the shirt that covered his chest, up to his neck — that beautiful, sensitive neck that you loved kissing so much. It was just the perfect height for you to nuzzle into the warm skin, his intoxicating scent filling your mind with a dark haze as your lips kissed him softly, feeling the familiar goosebumps of his strong arms as they pulled you into an embrace.
Jean loved all your gentle touches, the caressing of your hands, the warmth of your tongue on his body. His hands couldn't get enough of you, either — he took every chance to brush his fingers against yours as you passed each other on the hallway, to grab your waist as he slightly guided you through crowds, or to hold your hand under the desk at the library, his fingers intertwining with yours while he kept reading his notes, smiling as he felt your doe eyes staring at him. Even the most innocent touches sent hot tingles through his core, and it made him feel so pervy, but he couldn't help the swelling bulge growing in his pants as the playful spark in your eyes reminded him of what an incredibly nasty girl you actually were. And it was the secret of you two.
The first few times you talked dirty to him left him absolutely dumbfounded. He had to get used to the insane spinning of his mind as you whispered such filthy stuff into his ear, sometimes out of nowhere, in the middle of the most casual public settings.
"I'd love to suck your cock under this table, y'know," you said softly as you leaned close to his ear, and Jean literally choked on his lunch, followed by immediate coughing and an instant strain of his pants as your sudden words wandered straight to his groin. You smiled at his surprised expression, then bit your lower lip as a prominent blush started to spread on Jean's cheeks. Oh, how you loved teasing him.
"Yeah?" he simply replied, trying to play it cool, but you saw right through him. Him being so adorably flustered just made you want to suck him off even more.
"Yeah," you eyed his lips with a half smile, and the sinful flash of your face made Jean grow even harder under his jeans. "You look so good..."
He swallowed with a heavy gulp, all the blood rushing to his lap, right out of his brain. He glanced at Connie, who just got up to get another slice of cake at the counter, and would be back at your table in about twenty seconds. Jean gazed back at your darkened eyes, your pretty lips glistening as you swiftly ran your tongue across it, and had to keep his eyes from rolling back into his skull at the thought of those same lips wrapping around his already rock hard cock, your eyes glued to his as you couldn't care less about the public surrounding — maybe you'd even enjoy it.
"You're a nasty girl, you know that?" he spoke in a low voice, your faces just a few inches from each other as your eyes melted into his, invisible sparks flying and setting both of your bodies on fire.
Your eyes lowered to Jean's lips and you slowly nodded, smiling. "I know."
"You drive me fucking crazy," Jean mumbled under his breath as you turned to Connie with a lively smile, laughing about the way he already had his face stuffed full of cake before he could sit back down — pretending you didn't just offer him a public blowjob half a minute ago in the canteen.
And you did, you drove him crazy as you became more and more comfortable and skilled in teasing him. Sometimes throughout the whole day, with dirty whispers in his ear as you passed him in the hallway, stolen touches as you suddenly grabbed his bicep or his inner thigh, catching him off guard in class, in the library or the canteen... Not only did an electric wave of arousal run through his body, but he almost fainted off his chair when his phone buzzed in class one time and he checked the attachment you just sent him, expecting it to be a meme — one of those that you usually sent to each other back and forth when a class got too boring to pay attention to. You watched from the other side of the classroom as Jean’s eyes widened at the sight of your mirror selfie, his breath catching in his throat. Your phone covered half of your adorably innocent-looking smile, your hair wet as you seemingly just got out of the shower, your naked hips, the curve of your waist and one and a half of your perfect boobs showing as your delicate fingers lifted Jean’s oversized shirt up on your body. To Jean, an undescribable, painting-like beauty.
Jean felt his lips slightly part and his face burn as he gazed at the screen of his phone, the picture of your delicious body making all the blood in his veins rush right to his lap. You bit back your smile as his eyes flicked up to you, his flushed cheeks and pursed lips letting you know you successfully reached your goal. Jean shifted in his seat, slightly adjusting the crotch of his pants as he tried to keep calm, but your playfully glistening eyes piercing through his didn’t help much. The professor loudly explained the basics of property rights in the background, but all he could wonder was if you knew how mercilessly he was going to overstimulate every inch of that beautiful body you hid under that baggy hoodie.
Jeanbo
you’re sooo paying for this later
u little rat
You knew exactly what buttons to push to get him worked up, and even though he felt agonizing pain as he suffered through a number of days with a raging boner, he secretly loved how more and more bratty you got while teasing him. You didn’t even have an idea of how many times you made him palm himself through his jeans in public, or escape to the restrooms to look at your spontaneous nudes and jerk his already hard cock just a little bit before having to go back to his usual tasks. Jean felt like a fucking perv, but he couldn’t help it — you made him turn into a perv, and he couldn’t stop thinking of all the different ways he wanted you.
Jean’s weakness was how only he knew your dirty little secret side. No one else in the world knew how skilled you grew in sucking his cock, giving him the most perfect blowjob he could ever dream of. You took your time to get to know all his sensitive spots and preferences, slowly suckling at his tip with pretty puckered lips, beautiful eyes looking deep into his until he couldn’t help spilling his hot load inbetween your lips. No one else knew what a dirty girl you were, getting bossy with him from time to time when he taunted you on purpose. He thought he’d lose conciousness right then and there when you stuffed your wet panties into his mouth one time, jokingly — even though you were on top, Jean kept teasing you with that shit-eating grin on his face, knowing you’d soon be begging for his cock. Oh, but he couldn’t have been more wrong…
He then slowly melted into a messy, blushing putty as you took charge on top of him, milking his cock in various ways as he just laid there, unable to move or say too much with his wrists tied to your bed, gagged with your cute little panties. Good thing he also loved watching you — he felt like he was in heaven as your gorgeous naked body towered over him, using him for your own pleasure.
That was a weakness you both shared. You loved watching Jean. He noticed pretty quickly how you liked admiring him, be it from afar as you sat on the other side of the classroom, or from up close, caressing his face with eyes so loving, it made him melt. You also loved to admire him in his naked glory — Jean was a man so big and beautiful, your hungry eyes could never get enough of him. He noticed your habit of basically devouring the sight of him touching himself, so he made sure to pay back all the damn teasing with a few mirror videos here and there, of him gently stroking his slowly swelling cock, sometimes through the towel when he was fresh out of the shower, or half naked in his room when he went back home for the weekend, already missing your presence…
His little revenge usually worked, seeing him touch himself in any way made you drool and your mind go blank instantly. You adored getting close to him, looking up at his handsome face, deep into his eyes as you were kneeling in front of him, watching and feeling his cock just an inch from your face before you begged for him to stroke you with it, slap it on your tongue, smear his precum on your lips, then stuff your face full… You were absolutely crazy about this man.
You also couldn’t get enough of his voice. Jean was definitely a talker, and your ability to cum in seconds as he whispered the most filthy, nasty words into your ear was completely new to you.
“S’creamy little pussy’s squeezing me so tight,” he moaned before gently biting down on your earlobe, his thick shaft stretching you from behind with the dirtiest loud squelching sounds. Another delicious groan reached your ear, and your eyes rolled back, knowing you were going to cum in no time. “That’s it, messy girl, cream on my cock f’me.”
Jean was all about being gentle and soft, but he was also quite passionate as he quickly got carried away. It was a beautiful clash of pleasures when his words and praises remained soft and caring while the movements of his hips, strong arms and large hands became rough, almost cruel.
SMACK!
His hand came down on the round of your ass with a harsh slap, and you whimpered in pain as you hovered over his face, your hands clutching his strands of hair as Jean sat on the floor below you, eating you out with a feverish greed. His wet lips mumbled into your pussy before he continued licking your sensitive little knob into insanity. “Mhmm yeah, keep holding onto my hair, pretty girl”
“JEAN!“ you cried out as another loud slap left a stinging pleasure hot on your ass, and your knees felt like giving out as his tongue swirled you closer to your peak.
“Cum on my face, baby, please make a mess f’me…”
Maybe that was the secret to all the otherworldly pleasure you experienced with each other — you both loved making the other feel incredibly good. how he's so worked up for you anytime you meet After a long day of teasing each other, you couldn’t wait to feel his strong, large body wrap around you, his hot skin on yours, soft lips sucking your tongue into his mouth…
“Oh my god… How are you so—so fucking big?” you muttered and Jean chuckled as your jaw stayed fallen open, your pretty eyes staring at his erection as it jumped free from the confinement of his boxers. The sight made your mouth water. Even though you haven't touched it yet, his cock was already so heavy and wet, the flush tip leaking, so messy and eager to be inside you.
“Y’gonna be in shock every single time?”
“Mhmmm”
But what you loved most was how safe you felt surrounded by his thick, muscular thighs, or big arms as they snaked around your naked body, hugging you tightly to his chest, his length thrusting up into you slowly as his honey-like eyes sank into yours, his soft lips uttering secret little praises into your mouth… Words that made you feel like your hearts poured right through your ribs and melted into each other, words that felt so warm, so sacred, only yours...
"I'm only yours…”
Your hand moved on its own as you knocked on the door and your heart fluttered with the most childlike excitement you felt in a long while. The lock clicked, the door opened...
And there he stood in front of you.
You looked up to Jean's face and your heart sank to your stomach. An unexplainable contentment filled your chest every single time those beautiful hazel eyes met yours, his expression softening as he looked at you, his pretty lips curving into a smile and uttering words you could barely comprehend as your mind immediately turned to putty.
"Hey! Come in."
Warmth filled your chest as Jean turned to let you in and Mikasa's words echoed in your mind from earlier. You felt like she might've been right.
He felt like home.
"Will you be playing tin soldier in the doorway all night?" Jean tittered as he leaned onto the doorknob and you shook your head to jerk yourself out of your spontaneous daydream. Jean found it absolutely amusing when you became flustered — he noticed your eyes running down his body and the slight blush of your cheeks didn't escape his attention either as you stared at his face with big sparkling eyes.
"Shut up" you frowned as you quickly looked away, but you couldn't hide your embarrassment from him. "I'm eating your present"
"What present?" his curious eyes followed your movements while he closed the door behind you and you put down the paper bag you had in your hand.
"I brought you a—fuck—AHH!" you let out an irritated grunt as you turned to him, trying to unzip your winter coat, and failing miserably as the fringe of your knitted scarf got caught by the zip.
"Wait, let me help you," Jean snickered at your clumsiness and immediately stepped closer, his warm fingers taking the hardware from your frozen ones. "Y'little twit."
"Hey, don't make me beat you again," you shot a threatening look up at him, then bit back a smile as he let out a heartfelt laugh. You felt your heart pounding against your chest faster as he stood so close to you, his eyes fixated on your zip with an adorable little frown.
"Your hands went numb in the cold?" Jean's eyes flicked up to yours for a moment and you nodded. Oh god, how your cute red, frostbitten cheeks made his heart flutter.
"Mhm, they always do," you replied pouting as you slipped your hands out of your colorful gloves that Sasha knitted for you. Crocheting wasn't her only craft and your closet got the best out of it. "My circulation's as shitty as it can get. And it's freezing out there..."
"This big ass scarf, I swear to god," Jean murmured, annoyed, as you chuckled, feeling the heat radiating from his face so close to yours. He found you so adorable in your huge, thick coat, big scarf and bigger snowboots. You reminded him of a dressed up little penguin.
And his face seemed so warm and welcoming, you couldn't help sliding your frozen hands on it. "HOLY SHIT, you're freezing, what the fuck?!"
"Ouuu god, and you're burning me." Your shoulders shook with laughter and Jean let you warm your little fingers on top of his stubbled jaw with a smile while he successfully operated your scarf out of the zip.
"There you go."
"Thank you, doctor," you finally unzipped your coat as Jean stepped back, his nosiness turning his attention back to the mysterious paper bag again. "See, it was worth it becoming a neurosurgeon."
"Shit, lucky you, you're in dire need of a brain transplant," he snapped back with the familiar shit-eating grin and you stared back with narrowed eyes.
"Aight, it's final, I am eating your present."
"But what is it?! Let me see." Jean's hand already reached for the paper bag, but you swiftly jumped in and grabbed it before he could.
"Na-uh-uh! It's a present, I have to give it to you," you smiled as one of your hands slipped into the bag, and Jean's heart skipped a beat at your happy, frostbitten little expression. Whatever you'd gift him, he was already melting.
"Ah yeah, silly me." He mirrored your smile while you dropped the paper bag, a familiarly wrapped pack of something remaining in your hands.
"I know you were dying to try out the new pastry shop in town center." Your hands reached out to Jean, but he didn't move yet. His look was glued to the pretty joyful glint of your eyes. "So I got you lemon cake 'cause you said your mom's was your favorite."
Jean's eyes finally left yours and he gazed at the colorful packaging of the cake as you carefully handed it over to him, an inevitable smile growing on his face while his chest filled with warmth as you explained further.
"It's probably not as good, but I figured your insanely sweet tooth might like it," you chirped cheerfully as Jean felt the familiar little butterflies wake up in his stomach, returning his gaze back to you with the most gorgeous, sheepish smile. He was flustered.
He didn't even remember the last time someone surprised him with such a small, yet so thoughtful little gift.
Jean turned to the cake again, looking for the easiest way to unwrap it as he tried to hide the blush he felt heating up his face. He's blushing over a slice of cake, how fucking stupid.
"Thank you— Grab a plate, we'll share."
"Nooo, I got it for you," you grinned, noticing the rosy tint of his cheeks even in the dim lighting of their dorm. "Only for you."
Jean's eyes returned to meet yours again, visibly softening as his cheeks burned with the immense love he felt at that moment. He stepped closer to you, closing the distance between your bodies, and your hearts fluttered to the same chaotic rhythm as he leaned down to softly kiss you. The sweet taste of your watermelon chapstick made him tingle inside as you kissed him back, now blushing a whole lot more than Jean was previously.
"Thank you, pretty girl." He spoke softly as your kiss broke, smiling at how quickly you softened under his lips, eyes glistening up at him with desperation for more.
"I hope you'll like it," you mumbled in response, your eyes sheepishly dropping to avoid the intense feeling in your chest woken up by Jean's stare.
As if you didn't regularly fuck the soul out of each other.
It was kind of a weird place to be, casual affection still felt a little awkward between you two because despite the excruciating sexual tension, you still didn't declare any romantic intentions verbally. You and Jean hanging out casually was just that: talking about any and every possible thing, sharing your silliest theories, fooling around... Until one of you couldn't bear the tension of the intense eye contact and being so close anymore, and broke the ice with a touch on the inner thigh, a gentle stroke on the lips, or a soft but eager kiss. And there was no stopping from there.
Getting so close to each other as friends just made it even more of a strange situation, really.
"Speaking of doing favors... Can you please cut my hair?" Jean flashed a forced robotic grin at you and you stared at him for a moment with a genuine confusion furrowing your brows. He laid on his bed in front of you, still having a few small crumbs of the cake he just devoured stuck to his lips. "I don't trust anyone with it anymore."
"Oooh, so this is why you wanted to "hang out"," you sneered at him as your fingers imitated quotation marks in the air, earning an amused roll of Jean's hazel eyes. "You're using me for my insane manual skills..."
"Yeah, I'm with you solely for the free haircuts."
"With me?" you raised an eyebrow and bit back your smile as Jean's smug confidence seemed to suddenly disappear as his eyes dropped to his fidgeting hands. Your heart nervously skipped a beat at the phrase, but you decided to joke it off. "And I'm with you solely for your mullet."
"Knew it," Jean shook his head with a renewed smile. "Taking advantage of my body... How dare you?"
"I'd rather not comment on that," you chuckled to yourself as Jean started rummaging through the drawer of his bedside table, now laying on his stomach. "But I'd love to know how I earned your trust to touch your treasured locks."
"Here you go," Jean reached for your hands with a self-assured look on his face, carefully placing a pair of scissors in it. You gazed at them for a second before meeting his confident stare again.
"But these are regular scissors."
"And?"
"These aren't good, they could damage the ends of your hair," you said, but immediately bursted out laughing at Jean's deadpan.
"Okay, mom, I do not give a single flying fuck about my ends."
"Okay, honey-boo-boo-sweetiepie, whatever you say," you shrugged, getting to your feet as you took to the bathroom with your assigned hairstyling shears in your hand. "C'mon then."
"I'm starting to think you spend way too much time with Sasha," Jean smiled as his eyes involuntarily followed the smooth motions of your hips as you walked away, the sweet tinkling of your laughter sending a wave of warmth through his core.
You couldn't even imagine how endlessly content he felt in your presence.
"And I'm starting to think you lost your mind and share one singular braincell with Connie now," you snapped back, flicking on the bathroom light as a chuckling Jean got out of his bed to follow you. "Trusting me to cut your hair..."
"You said you usually cut your own and it's really good. The layers look pretty," Jean replied as he stopped next to you in front of the sink and his large fingers gently caressed your soft strands of hair. He liked it when you wore it down.
"Really?" you glanced up at him as you felt your face getting warmer and Jean smiled, letting his hands tangle in your hair at the back of your head. He found you so cute.
"Really."
That's how you found yourself spending your Friday night standing behind Jean with the scissors and a comb in hand. He was seated in front of the mirror above the sink, a towel wrapped around his broad shoulders, smiling at your reflection as you furrowed your brows in serious concentration, trying to get a thorough look of his hair before every single snip.
"Just a trim, right?"
"Yeah, just an inch or two," Jean replied, keeping his head perfectly still, unable to scrape the smile off his face as he was watching you. "I'm leaving it up to you, though."
"Do you really trust my skills that much?" you grinned as you slowly moved the comb to grab a section of his ashy brown hair, trimming off the ends to the same length as the previous section.
"I do." Your eyes met Jean's in the mirror for a moment as he responded, and you had to take a second look. His hair was kind of messy, having been brushed and clipped in multiple different directions, but despite looking a bit silly, the playful sparkle in his eyes still made your heart skip a beat.
"You're so handsome," you smiled back at him, lifting your hand for a second to gently caress his warm cheek as he sat completely motionless for you. Jean just chuckled, but even though he always became flustered, you knew how much he liked being praised. "It's a shame you're my customer."
"Oh, so no head?!"
"Nooo," you laughed at the reference and cut another section, moving the scissors to snip the ends a few times vertically as well. "It wouldn't be ethical."
"I forgot my wallet though, can't pay any other way," Jean fake-pouted and you shook your head giggling. Snip. Snip. More and more pieces of hair fell slowly to the cold tiles.
"We'll figure something out, don't worry, pretty boy," your eyes followed your own fingers' movements, brushing them through his hair a few times to see where the section needed to be adjusted. "Are you washing it after?"
"Probably."
"Can I braid it when it's dried?" you asked, eyes lighting up as the sudden thought came to you, but Jean quickly knocked down your enthusiasm
"You absolutely can not."
"Pretty pleaseee," you grinned at his reflection in the mirror and he let out a small chuckle as your fingers moved on to the sections at the back of his head.
"You wouldn't even be able to braid this length, smartass." Jean found the idea weird, but your excitement adorable. He was also kind of curious how you'd braid his hair, but still. He couldn't let you know that.
"How do you know? Ya knucklehead," you frowned. "I wasn't aware that a world-known hairstylist graced me with his professional presence."
"Yeah, you're the chosen one," Jean grimaced as you ruffled his hair on the side that you were done trimming, the freshly cut strands of hair tickling the skin on his face.
"Thanks for choosing me, your majesty," you replied, quickly pinching his cheek before removing a clip from a section on the other side of his pretty head. Your heart already fluttered at the way his hair looked, tousled and wild...
But it still didn't compare to the warmth spreading in your center as Jean stepped out of the bathroom after a quick shower.
His grey sweatpants and oversized shirt smelled fresh as she stepped to his bed, leaning down to press a soft kiss on your shoulder as you laid on your stomach, typing on your phone. You glanced up at him as he flashed his signature grin at you and as you watched him dry his damp hair with a towel, you felt straight up mesmerized. How the hell can a man so beautiful be real and standing in front of you?
"Who are you texting?" Jean's hazel eyes flicked to the screen of your phone while you shifted on the bed, making place for him to sit beside you.
"Sasha," you smiled as you laid your head on your arm, still watching him. "She asked me to take a pic of this masterpiece of a haircut."
"Wait, let me turn so you can get the back..."
"Nooo, don't turn away, lemme see your face." You opened your camera app, then smiled at him on the screen. Jean was surprisingly unaffected by anyone taking pictures of him, anytime, never being awkward in front of the camera, and of course being extremely photogenic in addition — that handsome bastard. "You look so good."
"No, you." Jean suddenly leaned down to nuzzle into your hair near your ear and you instantly raised your shoulders to protect your neck, bursting out laughing as his stubble and hot breath tickled your skin.
Jean shifted his body to lay down beside you, the heat radiating from him immediately making your core tingle. A warm hand slipped under your shirt to gently slide along your waistline, up to your back while his face stayed close to yours. Your laughter quieted to a content sigh as your arms wreathed around his neck, his soft lips slightly grazing the skin of your jawline, giving you goosebumps.
"You're beautiful," he murmured, his deep voice making your eyes slowly close in pleasure. His fingers skillfully unhooked your bra behind your back — although it wasn't a sexual act, at all. Jean's touch felt incredibly loving as his caring fingers glided on your now uncovered back, rubbing slow, soothing circles on the skin. Another sigh fell from your lips as you felt relief fill you, his tender touch and gentle little pecks on your face making your heart flutter.
As your body pressed to the front of his, your soft skin under his fingertips and your sweet scent filling his nose, Jean felt like his heart might burst out of happiness. Your name fell from his lips as he waited for your eyes to meet his.
"Hmm?" you opened your eyes to look at him and Jean smiled at how sleepy your expression turned under his touch.
"I... I just wanted to know if you felt comfortable, y'know—with where this is going." Jean spoke softly and your eyes melted together in a safe warmth.
"What do you mean?" you asked, eyes blinking slowly.
"I mean... I know we've been on a lot of dates, but I still feel like—like, we haven't talked about any labels or anything, so I wondered if—"
"If I felt comfortable," you smiled and Jean pressed the tip of his nose onto yours as he nodded.
"Yeah. I don't want you to feel like we're just fooling around... Sometimes I feel like I shouldn't be so greedy, as if I can't control myself around you," he mumbled, his thumb caressing your lips as his hand on your back wandered up to the back of your neck under your shirt. "Sometimes I feel like I ruined the chance to start out right, to treat you right..."
"I don't know how it should go, but... This feels right," you replied as you held eye contact, then your fingers found Jean's, both of your hearts pounding faster as you held hands. The moment felt so close, so sacred, it made you smile before you quietly chuckled. "But I know what you mean, it's—it's hard to keep my hands off of you."
"Yeah, you tell me," Jean smirked. "I never thought I'd be the pathetic piece of shit who couldn't keep it in his pants for the life of him...”
You laughed wholeheartedly as you shook your head, "Well, I don't want you to keep it in your pants."
"Yeah, that's the problem."
"But it just feels so good," you returned your gaze back to his honey-like eyes, your legs tangling between his. "It's not because I'm a horny pervert, I swear, it just feels so incredibly good to be close to you..."
"I know," he replied quietly, almost whispering as he smiled, butterflies in his stomach flapping around once again. "I feel the same."
Jean tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, your foreheads pressed together. A few moments of comfortable silence set between you two and you felt so safe in his arms, you felt like you could easily fall asleep.
"You're so different from the tough little shell that you hide under," Jean whispered, poking a finger on your sternum. "Inside your frozen little heart."
"It's not frozen," you chuckled. "I'm just... I got used to being alone. I didn't open up until we didn't know each other, I don't see the use of opening up to most people, most of the time, you know."
As Jean's lips turned into a pout, you felt the need to explain further.
"I mean, I wasn't lonely. Just alone. I've always been alone," you spoke, then chuckled at his saddened expression. "Don't look at me like that, I didn't mean it as a sob story."
"I know, I get it... I do," Jean reassured you, slightly squeezing your hand.
"Then you know how special this is for me," you mumbled as your lips were just an inch from his.
"I know," Jean whispered. "And I want you to know how special your pretty little heart is to me."
Your eyes met again and you felt your bodies molding perfectly into each other as his arm pulled you even closer to him.
"You should show it off a little more often," Jean smiled and you mirrored him.
"I—I do, I try to. I've never had this many friends in my life before."
"I know. I'm happy to see it... And to be next to you," he smirked. "It did feel like trying to break through a tough layer of ice in the beginning, though"
"Good thing you know how to skate," you joked with a sleepy voice. He chuckled in response — that even gave him an idea for later.
"Good thing I know how to make you melt."
"Yeah, into a small, pathetic puddle," you laughed as Jean watched you, eyes softening as they examined your beautiful features. He felt like he never wanted to take his eyes off of you.
"No, when you melt, you feel more like a... Like a huge summer rain." Jean stared at you, lingering. "Y'know, the one that's warm on your skin and feels like a liquid hug, and you don't mind it soaking through all your fucking clothes..."
"A thunderstorm?" you smirked up at him.
"Yeah, kind of," Jean replied with a half smile. "Like a crazy ass thunderstorm that comes out of nowhere, but feels so damn good in the summer heat..."
"I love those."
"Yeah," Jean mumbled as your lashes batted at him with slow, tired blinks. "I love those, too." He pressed a soft kiss onto your lips before adding, "They make my heart so happy."
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