#AND SHE'S GOT EMERALD EYES etc

[trappednyourheart]

A Haunted Doll's new kid

“A Damian and he's haunted doll”

Instead of Jason having Danny as his childhood doll or haunted doll, how about if Damian got haunted doll Danny?

--------------------------------------------

Where a young Talia Al Ghul stumbled across a very old and abandoned mansion in a middle of nowhere, only tall dark trees and harsh winds accompany her outside of the manor, at her vulnerable worse moments, her team was ambushed by a very cunning new group..took a lot of damaged out of her but she survived and now left wandering on her own, without anyway to contact the league or if she will faced punishment for being defeated, she decided to seek shelter inside the lifeless Manor for the time being, but to her surprise inside the manor it was warm as if no sign of abandonment as if it was alive, only one there was a beautiful baby doll.. something those rich young daughters would play at those times she heard from rich society of children..

Only Alive entity keeping her warm and welcome, so she decided to bring it to the League and no matter how childish this action was..she really can't stop letting go until she give it to her son in his 12 birthday, hoping him to take care of the Precious doll as if a heirloom, which it is😅

-----------------------------------------------

Damian knew what this Doll was, it was his mother's doll. A doll so clean and beautiful, he never understand why there was a doll back then at the league.

It was his first everytime to even see a doll up closed than reading and imagining it at textbooks and examples of words in his former lessons, the Doll was strange.

Unlike The doll, it felt alive, warm and cozy like a child would be clingy to it's parent

He could feel waves of emotions he could distinct knowing the Doll's feelings..

No matter how much time passed after his mother gave it to him, he knows understands why he's mother would take care of this Doll.

No matter how much his family freak out at the constant, chairs spinning too see the baby doll sitting in it, finding in other places standing, moving heads, and little joyful laughter's. (Except for Alfred cause he already accepted the doll,)

------------------------------------

Danny was absolutely not amused, after a whole prank war with the fam, Ellie and the others decided to trap him in this stupid girly baby doll, with a brand label with his name💀 and decided to drop him off to a abandoned version of Vlad's house just for funzies if a few mortals ever get scared, but it kinda backfired now he's been getting good care through this girl now turn woman then her son is now taking care of him, he is grateful he isn't some kind of heirloom..right? But it was fun haunting this so called bats, even sending Grey hairs to his new profound kid caretaker,

----------------------------------------

Danny appearance as a doll is a female baby doll, that is plump and porcelain, he also has a voice box for the original dolls lines, but he sometimes make some unholy and demonic noises to scare one of the bats except for Alfred or Damian, the doll that he was inside in had Caucasian skin, dark hair and deep blue eyes that look like had stars twinkling in it which he approved, his dress was a plump white dress that had green designs in it that was glowing, a small beautiful beach hat and a cute glowing green heels? Shoes ya that's the description and some cute accessories like a golden bracelet which had unique jewels like emerald, ruby, and etc,

when talia found him, the Girls, Ellie had created a very doll like luggage with his necessities, clothes, things for dolls..which he considers are now his own belongings after being used to the routine in the league and how he accept this as a vacay cause he knows CW is watching him😅

#danny phantom #batfam #dcxdp #Dpxdc #danny fenton #bruce wayne #dc x dp au #Damian haunted doll #inspired by Jason doll #jason todd #Damian Wayne #tim drake-wayne #dc x dp #dc x dp original? #dc x dp prompt #im gonna make a tim version next which is in my drafts...maybe dick's or Alfred..Ya I dont know if am gonna let bruce have one..maybe.. #Jason's doll

[norrisleclercf1]

Rumors

Pairing: Single Dad!Alonso x Nanny!Reader

Rating: PG-17

Words: 3.3K

Warnings: Age gap, single parents, reader is pregnant, history of one night stand, alonso doesn’t know, reader being shamed by elders, insecurities, Fernando as a dad is fucking golden, overprotective!Fernando, Angst, Fluff, etc.

Requested: Yes/No

Request: Please do one with Alonso where he tell the reader he want’s kids & also some age drifference

A/N: I kinda changed this request a lot but I hope you love it, just needed more plot and ran with it 🩷 also credit to @pg10version for helping me through my writers block

Listen....you didn't mean to sleep with your boss. All you needed was to be the nanny to his little girl Alejandra, not warm her father's bed. You knew people talked when they saw you out and about with them. Pointing and staring, but saying anything to your boss's face. Who would? 

He was one of the pride and joys of Spain. A two-time World Champion. They talked due to the age difference and how you were probably warming his bed every night. They were right. But had no right to talk about you that way. You hadn't even told him yet. Falling pregnant was not in the plan, yet you are, sunbathing by the pool while Alejandra naps. Pushing your sunglasses down, you check the baby monitor and see Alejandra sprawled across the bed, her bunny stuffy beside her. 

You bought her that stuffy when you first met. Her mother wasn't in the picture, having left them when she was young. It's been 5 years since you were hired, and you and the toddler grew close; her father was pleased with the relationship you two formed. 

Speaking of her father, your phone chimes, alerting you to the central gate opening to the driveway. An emerald green Aston Martin rolls up. Turning your phone down, you close your eyes, soaking in the sun. A deep rumble of a growl has you turning your head toward the sound. Next to you lay your favorite companion. A gorgeous black and tan Spanish Mastiff named Hades. 

Your boss didn't like leaving his two girls home alone, so he bought the dog as a puppy, training it to be a guard dog. Hades was loyal to you, Alejandra, and her father. Though he was gone for a while, it took Hades half a day to relax around the stranger. Hades jump up, his growl getting more profound as he stands in front of your lounger. 

About 4 months ago, Hades refused to leave your side, even snapping his jaws at your boss when he got too close. It was 3 months later you found out you were pregnant. Hades was protecting you, having known before anyone else. 

"Hades, down." A soft tone has the dog lying down but still in front of you as you move, grabbing the tan lotion to touch on some areas. Untying your top, you let it fall and rub lotion everywhere so you don't burn. "Bunny, I'm home." A voice causes your head to whip to the monitor, sighing when you see Alejandra's father. 

He slowly leaves the room, letting you relax as you lay back down, rubbing the lotion over your small bump. It wasn't crazily noticeable. It was tiny as you hadn't popped yet like most people said they did, so it was easy for you to lie and say it was bloating. 

Hades barks, letting you know that someone stepped outside. You don't worry, though, knowing damn well who it is, has Hades bark turns to a playful one. "Trying to tease me, cariño?" You open your eyes gently, letting them adjust to the sunlight. 

Before you, a silhouette of your boss as you smile shyly at Fernando Alonso. "Not teasing, don't want tan lines." You mumble, closing your eyes again; Fernando lifts your feet up as he sits at the end of the lounger, placing them on his lap. 

"Hm, I was in town today. Isabel says she hasn't seen you with Alejandra in a while." You moan when the pad of Fernando's thumbs digs into your feet. "All those old bats do is point and whisper." You grumble, a hand protectively covering your bump, but Fernando thinks it's you resting your hand on your stomach. "Cariño, ignore them. Who cares what they say." He sighs, rubbing his forehead. 

You sit up fast, ripping off your sunglasses as you glare at the older man. "I care what they say. I care when they point at Allie and whisper how her nanny is a dirty money hungry whore. I care when they point at my stomach and say, "Yes, she is a whore, fucking the dad." I refuse to go down to town when all they do is speak fucking trash. Especially about Alejandra." Fernando stares at you.  

His gaze is dark and hungry as he watches the woman before him turn protective over their tiny family.....god she was gorgeous. 

You whimper into the kiss but pull away, groaning when Fernando traps your bottom lip in his teeth, sucking on it. "Nando, stop." He pulls away, always priding himself on control. He always stopped when you said so. "Did I hurt you?" Worry replaces that fire as he looks over you. 

"I'm fine, but.....really," You bite your lip, unsure how to voice your thoughts. "Mi cielo," He grabs your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. "You know you can tell me anything. Need, feel, want, tell me it all." He whispers, switching his position to straddle the lounger and tugging you between his legs. "What am I to you? Alejandra's nanny? Something young and fun to screw?" You ask, hiding your face in his chest. Breathing in the soft touch of woodsy scotch and orange. 

It's your favorite scent. You loved wearing Fernando's clothes and sleeping in his bed. It comforted you in a way you love and hate. "Y/n," Fernando sighs, heartbreaking at the thought of you keeping this all bent up inside. "We're whatever you want us to be. I want you to stay here and raise Alejandra together." He grumbles, fingers tracing patterns on your sunkissed skin. 

"No labels? Just us?" You ask, getting a nod from Fernando. You lean back, thinking of kissing him, but stop hearing a soft voice calling for you. "Mama." It's a slight whimper that's got grabbing your cover, tying it, and bolting to Alejandra's voice. Standing, Hades jumps up, runs over to his toys, and returns with his favorite tennis ball. "I bought you to protect you, big softy." Fernando groans, grabbing the ball and throwing it into the pool. Hades barks and rushes the pool going after his ball. Fernando laughs at the giant dog, acting like a puppy. 

He repeats this a couple times, his attention pulled when he hears the sweet voice of his baby girl. "Papa! Estás en casa!" (You're home) Alejandra giggles. You sit the girl down as she almost falls out of your hold, wiggling around so much. "Estoy en casa, dulce ángel." (I'm home, sweet angel) 

Fernando crouches down, losing his balance, when Alejandra runs full force into her father's chest, her sweet giggles mixed with his deep ones. You stand by the door and watch the scene, touching your belly, unable to wait for the day when you can watch both your children in his arms. 

"Mama, come play!" Alejandra giggles, reaching out for you. Smiling, you run over and scoop her out, her giggles filling the air. "Alejandra, go show your Papa what you learned at swim lessons yesterday." You praise the little girl running to the pool, Fernando behind her, scared she'll get hurt. 

Moving, you grab your top and quickly throw it back on and then your cover as you turn, watching her dunk her face in the water, her little pink floaties holding her up. She comes back up smiling with her little teeth, proud that she dips her face in the water without screaming. Fernando stands in the pool. His skin is slick and glowing in the sun, his tattoo flexing when he moves. 

"Mi pequeño pez! Look at you! I'm so proud of you." (my little fish)His hands wrap around her tiny body, pulling her into his chest and kissing her face. You watch the two enjoy the moment. Sitting on the pool's edge, you dip your feet in the water. "Mama! Can I have ice cream?" Lifting your sunglasses up, you feel tiny hands on your ankles. Legs around her, you lift her out of the water, her messy curls sticking all over her. 

"Of course, darling, ask Ms. Basque for some baby." Fernando comes up behind and lifts her out of the water, watching her little legs run into the house. "Come in the water." Fernando mummers, hooking your legs on his shoulder. Squirming slightly, you try to control the dirty thoughts running their course. 

"What are you thinking, my little tease?" He hums, moving farther up your legs before resting very close to where you can feel your heartbeat. "Stop. Alejandra will be back soon." You smack his forehead, yet he doesn't flinch, only smirks. "Little tease, better be careful with those thoughts. I can see them in your eyes." Mummering the last part, he leans in, breathing, quicking. You close your eyes, ready to let him, only for Alejandra to run out with Ms. Basque behind. 

"Fuck." You shove Fernando away and stand, catching little Alejandra as she holds his ice cream sandwich. "Mama, what was Papa doing?" Fernando glares at the little girl, but it contains no anger as you walk away from the Spaniard. "Nothing, my Pescado; Papa is just goofing around." You glare at the older man as he leaves the pool drying off while Ms. Basque whispers something. 

"Ella es muy joven para ti. Actuar como una puta." (She's to young for you. Acting like a whore) You cover Alejandra's ears as you walk past Ms. Basque. It was no secret that the older woman didn't like you as she had been with the family long before Fernando and his ex divorced and had Alejandra. 

You only stay short to hear what Fernando says, going to the kitchen as Alejandra eats her ice cream and talking about her upcoming swim lessons in cute broken words. "Mama, hungry." She whines from her high chair. "I know, little fish, but I'm sure what your Papa wants to do for dinner." Head buried in the fridge, you don't hear Fernando's feet pad into the kitchen. 

"How about we go out, hm? To that sweet little restaurant that you love so much." Standing up fast, you bang your head, letting out curses in your mother tongue, a sound of distress leaving the little girl's mouth, a large hand cradling your head. "Little tease? Are you okay?" Fernando worries over you, smiling; you nod. 

"Are you sure going to town is smart?" Closing the fridge and putting some distance between you two, hating it, though. Ever since you became pregnant, your body craved Fernando's in every possible way. Not telling him was killing you. Yet people like Ms. Basque were proving your doubts right. "Of course, Alejandra is hungry, and I figured we could go out and enjoy ourselves. Especially since you haven't been in town for a while." Fernando smiles, kissing your cheek and grabbing Alejandra. 

"Come on, my little fish, let's get you dressed, then Mama can do your hair." He whispers, kissing her cheek. You head to your bedroom and browse your clothes, trying to pick something where it doesn't shape your little bump. 

You pick a dress, it's a pretty soft white sundress with little flowers stitched on it, it's a flowy thing that doesn't hug your body so it was perfect. You match it with gold jewelry that isn't bulky, just light, and adds the perfect touch. Some black flats, and you're ready to go check on Fernando and Alejandra. 

"Papa? Ms.Basque says not to call Mama, Mama? Why?" You stop, not pushing open the door like you were going to, but Alejandra's sweet voice has you stopping. "Ignore her, my little fish; you can call Mama that if you want." Fernando sighs, pulling up her little white pants. "She says, Mama, not Mama." She whispers, thumb stuffed in her mouth. 

"Alejandra, stop. She's your mother." He softens his voice, having never snapped at his baby before. "Then why don't you sleep in the same bed? I thought Mama and Papa sleep together?" Alejandra asks, hitting that stage where she questions everything. "Alejandra, stop asking. What goes on between Mama and me is between us. Now, let's get Mama to do your hair as you like." He groans. You liked to tease him that whenever he got off the floor and complained, it was because he was getting old. 

"Alejandra? Nando?" You ask, pushing the door open; two pairs of the same eyes stare at you. "Mama! We match!" The little girl smiles, pointing at your dress and her dress shirt. It's black with little flowers, and her white pants and little velcro flats make you smile. "Now, Papa needs to match with us." She giggles. Fernando shakes his head and brushes past you, subtly grabbing your ass. 

Blushing, you shake your head when you hear his laughter down the hall. Sitting down, you pull Alejandra into your lap and do her hair. Combing it out tangles, you take care of her curls and let them dry out, pulling the top half of her hair up and tying it. Leaving the bottom half down, she loved her hair like this. 

Finished, you carry downstairs to where Fernando stands in nice dress pants, shoes, and a white shirt with a flower itched into his collar, making you smile that he matched subtly. "Ready, my loves?" He asks, swinging his SVU car keys on his finger. 

"Papa, flower!" Alejandra leans in your arms, touching the flower on Fernando's collar; the older man smiles and kisses her little hand. She giggles, feeling the scruff of his chin tickle her. "You should grow it out a little bit." Fingers brushing his chin, he smiles and leans into your touch. "Maybe." He teases, opening the back door to the SVU. 

He watches you buckle his daughter in the car, both of you laughing as you strap her in. His hand finds the lower portion of your back, leading you around the back of the vehicle, stopping you when you hit the blind spot. 

"What?" You ask, thinking something is wrong, but he smiles and kisses you gently. When he pulls back, you're smiling, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth your eyes flutter open. "What was that for?" His ears strained to hear the faint whisper of your voice. "Nothing just wanted to kiss my little tease." He mummers, moving your baby hairs out of your face. 

He walks you around the car, opens your door, and helps you get into the car, making sure you're secured. Closes the door smiles to himself, and walks to the driver's side. Jumping in, he starts the car. The ride is filled with ISpy and silly games like that with Alejandra, who occasionally whines about how hungry she is. 

Pulling up to the restaurant, he parks and rushes to your side to help you, then gets Alejandra. "Papa, carry!" Holding her arms up, Fernando chuckles and picks her up while holding your hand, strolling to the front door. "Welcome, Mr. Alonso." Someone says, leading you to your table. 

Looking around, it's a gorgeous place, open aired with plants and fairy lights everywhere. Music was playing from a live band, but it wasn't overpowering, just enough you could still talk. Sitting at your table, you ensure Alejandra is settled before taking your place next to Fernando. 

He smirks and places an arm around your waist, pulling you close; you hold your breath, hoping he doesn't touch your bump, which he doesn't, his fingers staying on your hip, rubbing calm circles. 

"I forgot to tell you," He whispers, making you shiver at his breath, tickling your ear. "How fucking gorgeous you look." You blush, a string of giggles leaving your mouth. Fernando doesn't stop there, whispering soft things in your ear, making you laugh and giggle. 

You look up, giggles clamped down when you see a group of older ladies staring at you. A few of them were the ones that made the comments about you and Alejandra. You see one of them whisper in another's ear, and without thinking, you shove Fernando away, putting some distance between you two. 

Alejandra colors paying no mind to the world around her or the dark look on her father's face. "Mi Amor? Is something wrong?" He whispers, grabbing your wrist and yanking you back into his side. "Mr. Alonso, no." You say, getting the older ladies to look up hearing you call Fernando that. 

"Mr. Alonso? What? Y/n, what is going on with yo-" He stops, his eyes catching seeing the older ladies staring and whispering to each other. He sits up straight, looking at you and then at them, waving the waiter over. "Please pack out food. We're taking it to go." You whip your head towards Fernando as to why he is doing this. 

"Mi Amor, take Alejandra to the car and wait for me, yes?" He asks, not caring as he leans in, kissing you. You stand, gather Alejandra in your arms, and walk to the car, Fernando's figure heading towards the older ladies. 

"So? Are your lives so fucking boring you must drag my life into your daily conversation?" Fernando asks, startling the women, but they bristle at his choice of language. "Fernando dear, we've known you since you were young. That girl is just using you." Fernando feels a whole new rage. 

"She is not using me. If anything, I'm the one taking advantage of her. Don't ever, and I mean it, talk about my girlfriend or child ever again. She's not a whore and is a better person than you old bag of bones." Fernando turns on his heels and storms out of the restaurant. 

Throwing the door open, he slams it, Alejandra whimpering, which has you turn around and comfort her. "We're going home." That is all he says as he starts the car and whips it out of the parking and back home. You stare at his grip on the steering wheel, having never seen him this angry. 

Pulling into the driveway, you don't wait for him to park when you're already out of the car and walking to grab Alejandra. "Mi Amor.." Fernando exits the car and reaches for you, but you avoid his touch; Alejandra holds close to your chest. "Go calm down, Fernando; I won't let you be this angry around us." You back away and head into the house, breezing past Ms. Basque. 

"Mama, read me a story?" Her tiny voice laced with sleep. "I will, baby, but let's bathe you first." Kissing her cheek, heading to her bedroom. Fernando paces, thinking everything over, but when he sees how long it's been, he decides to look for you. 

He goes to Alejandra's room down the hall, stopping at the door when he hears your voice reading a story. Poking his head in, he watches as Alejandra nods off, your voice getting softer and softer. "Goodnight, my little fish. I love you." You slide away from her hug, settling her down. 

He moves back from the door as you tiptoe out of the door and turn, closing the door. "I love you." You yelp in shock, hands covering your mouth. "What?" You choke out, trying to calm your heartbeat.

"I love you. I don't care what those elders say or what anyone else says. You're Alejandra's mother, and I want us to have children together. God baby, the thought of you being the future mother of our children, us having a future together. It makes me so goddamn happy." Fernando whispers, resting his forehead on yours. 

Smiling, you grab his larger hand and place it on your little bump, watching Fernando's eyes go through so many emotions. "Really?" He asks, swallowing back tears. "Yeah." You whimper, your free hand twirling in his hair. 

He laughs and picks you up, spinning you around, putting you back down on your feet, and muffling your cries with a kiss. "I love you. God, I love you so much." He whimpers as he hugs you. 

Fernando can't help but picture a little boy with your eyes and his curls running around, playing Alejandra, maybe even learning how to cart. After a year or two, another one with your hair and nose bit his personality, who is stubborn and perhaps the youngest but outspoken and overprotective. He couldn't wait for this future. 

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #formula one #f1 scenario #fernando alonso #fernando imagine #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso imagine #fernando x reader #fernando x y/n #fernando alonso one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #f1 x you #f1 fluff #f1 angst #f1 one shot

[zcorners120]

Babe, i love your page and all your work, it’s true a chef kiss. Shit i don’t know if you will take my request or not but i really need naughty f1!seb x driver!reader.

Well they’re teammates. For him she’s so tempting yet so innocent and beautiful. She is basically in her early 20s (sorry i don’t know if you’re comfortable writing this, but if you're not then it’s fine). And sometimes she gets shy around him because he’s her childhood crush, she’s been a fan of him since she was young doing karting. Most of the drivers took interest in her but she only has eyes for seb, now she wants him. Spending most of their time seeing each other at work, they couldn’t resist the desire anymore. He always fantasized to get her writhing beneath him, worshiping her, corrupt that innocent mind of her, giving her the best pleasure, etc🫠 Finally, yk “that” thing happened. The rest, i give it to the expert, you. I hope you get my point. Love you sm babe💗

thank u v much! love u too <3 sorry it's taken me a while to get to this, but im here now ! :)

sebastian vettel x fem!reader MASTERLIST

synopsis; working with your childhood crush is hard. but what's harder is him secretly fantasising about you.

warnings; age gap, sexual fantasies, sexual implications, S M U T 18+, p in v, spitplay, dom!seb, sub!reader, spanking, semi-public sex, masturbation!male

Redbull, a household name. The legacy and glory it established in the early 2010's was something to behold. Sebastian Vettel, their four time world champion, insanely attractive German blonde surfer type that had gotten you into racing.

His face shone, holding up his trophy, frozen in the image that was up on the back of your door. You look up at it, knowing that one day you'll make it with him. He was the birth of your insane crush, as well as your crazy driven work ethic, as you didn't stop racing and pushing till you got to where you are today, in Formula One.

The start of the season; a fresh start for everyone, and you had something to prove with it being your debut. You represented the emerald green, walking into the paddock for the first time as a driver. The nerves were wracking, hands tightly clutching the pass.

It was your first time meeting Sebastian, as he had been busy and not available to attend previous meetings and testing sessions. You were slightly relieved, knowing you'll be awkward around your childhood crush.

"Morning Y/N!" You hear interviewers calling out, trying to grab your attention for some pre-race thoughts.

You wave meekly to them, sporting a small polite smile. You felt your hair flowing briskly behind you, small gold hoops in your ears as you spot your garage, a natural rosy blush tinging your cheeks.

"Well, hello sunshine!" Mike yelled out, grabbing every person's attention in the garage as they turn to you, smiling.

"Morning Mikey." You giggled, feeling eyes on burning on your figure.

You couldn't lie, you were pretty. Pretty beautiful, being offered multiple modelling campaigns, photoshoot opportunities, sponsorships. You took them when you could, having it as a fun little side job, but mainly focusing on racing.

You had received a few cheeky DM's from F2 and F3 drivers when you were also competing with them, but not necessarily feeling interested. Because of a certain blonde? You like to think not.

"Y/N L/N. Pleasure to have you in Aston Martin." You felt a thick German voice speak out from behind you.

You just took the bullet, nervous as you turned around. "Sebastian Vettel. Trust me the pleasure is all mine, I'm honoured to be working with a legend like yourself."

You played it cool, internally thanking yourself for not being weird.

"You okay?" You laughed nervously, seeing that when you turned to face Sebastian, he was taken aback. He looked at you, gazing into your eyes.

As soon as you turned around, it was like a cliché from a movie. The most gorgeous woman he had ever laid his eyes on had fallen into his hands, your hair gently flipping back as though you turned in slow motion. Your eyes had a certain twinkle to them, with a smile kinder than a child with some candy.

"Uhm, yeah of course." He shook his head a bit, coming out of his trance.

"Seb, Y/N, you have a panel right now, make your way to the hall for it." Mike shouted from across the garage, pointing out of the door.

"Alright, one sec! I'm just going to put my stuff away." You gave Sebastian a polite smile, walking to put your bag away.

You left him stunned, standing there smiling like an idiot. He ruffled his hand against the back of his head, walking to the panel.

The drivers sat there, chatting amongst themselves as they waited for you to come in so they could start the questions. You were only a couple minutes lately, but the drivers clearly had a thing for punctuality.

You awkwardly walked in, the drivers gaze averting straight to you. Your once loose hair had now been pulled back gently, graciously in a middle parted ponytail.

Whatever sweet and innocent thoughts Sebastian had of you, had disappeared instantly, making eye contact with you. The thought your hair tied up like that, drove him wild.

"Sorry I'm late!" You said sweetly, taking your seat as everyone giggled around you.

The panel continued, a few questions being asked about how you balance modelling and racing, how you feel about being new in the season, etc.

The interviews finally stopped, bringing it to an end. You step off the platform and start making your way to the door, before being stopped by a tap on the shoulder. You turn to be met with the familiar face of an Alpha Tauri driver.

"Y/N, isn't it? You did really well up there." His French voice spoke out, smirking at you.

"Thanks Pierre, trust me I was really nervous." You laughed, making some nice small talk with him.

What you weren't aware of was the blue eyes staring you down from a corner, clearly jealous, yet having limited interaction with you.

"Yeah, my Instagram's there." You pointed it to Pierre, saying a small goodbye as you rushed to the garage.

In the next coming months, you naturally got closer with Sebastian; now calling him Seb. A few scandals here and there about drivers liking you; but you knew who you wanted.

"Okay, now don't get all nervous like you always do. Be bold." You pointed to yourself in the mirror, hyping yourself up to make some risky moves to Seb.

You look around the office and the garage, and he was nowhere to be found. Usually when talking to Seb, he was quite the flirt, but that's his usual personality. Every time the cheeky boy made a little comment you could feel your cheeks burn up, not having the courage to match the energy.

As you were trying to find the supposed cheeky boy, he was having some cheeky time to himself. He was in his driver's room, door unlocked, some lame Netflix show blasting to avoid any of his noises to be let out.

He found himself in the same situation again; slight sweat forming on his forehead, top slightly exposing his abs, overalls bunched at his knees. Pumping his thick cock, vein adorning his length throbbing against his palm, small groans and moans slipping from his lips.

"Scheiße Y/N." He cursed, imaging your ass bouncing on his cock, the image infatuating his mind. He has these fantasies regularly, more than he'd like to admit. Corrupting you beneath him, leaving your ass with red handprints, screaming his name for anyone to hear.

He loved your innocence, how shy you got around him; even though it felt wrong to like someone so much younger than him. He was aware of his feelings, and yet he couldn't help but imagine your tight pussy clenching against his thick cock, leaving you desperate and writhing and cock drunk; Just. For. Him.

As he was pleasuring himself, you were still trying to find him. It soon clicked that he might be in his room. Storming over there, you could hear some loud sitcom deafening you, 'He must be in his room.' you thought.

You knocked loudly, rapping your knuckles against the white door, not hearing a response. You knocked again, waiting for any source of life behind the door.

"Seb, I'm coming in!" You shouted over the sound, opening the door.

Seb thought it was his imagination playing tricks, but he was severely wrong. You opened the door to see Seb fully masturbating on his sofa, opening his eyes to be met with your agape stare.

"Holy shit. I'm so sorry!" You squeezed your eyes shut, running out from the room. You slammed the door behind you, leaning against it as you tried to process what just happened.

Seb was just as shocked as you, immediately turning the show down and pulling his race suit over his.. extremely hard stick.

"Y/N, are you still there?" He bravely spoke out to the door, hearing you hum a faint 'Mhm.'

He opened the door slowly, holding his hand out for you take. Putting your small hand into his larger palm, it almost killed him seeing the size difference; the tent in his suit becoming a lot worse.

"I'm so sorry I walked in; I didn't think that you were doing.. that." You cringed at your own words, as he sat on the sofa, you joining him.

He looked down, smiling, a conniving plan clearly underway. "What would you think if I told you that I was thinking of you whilst doing.. that."

"Huh-" Your cheeks turned a deeper shade of mulberry red, embarrassment painting itself all over your face.

"Would you like that, Schatz?" His deep voice had some kind power behind it, as he looked deep into your eyes.

"You think of me that way?" You gulped gently, feeling clueless to his dirty thoughts.

"Of course, you're beautiful, and you drive me crazy." He tucked some loose hair behind your ear, your lips moving to his like a magnet.

You bit the bullet, feeling his soft lips softly kiss yours. In that moment, Seb couldn't control himself, his strong hands taking your hips, planting you on his lap. His boner was aggressively throbbing, practically begging for attention. You met his needs, slowly grinding against him.

He groaned into your lips, his hand coming down to smack your ass, as you moan loudly into the heated make out session.

"My little Schatzi likes getting her ass smacked?" He said darkly, watching you nod coyly, with a small smile.

You pulled his race suit down, pooling at his feet as his boner smacked up against your stomach, still on his lap. You wriggled out of his grip, putting on a cheeky strip show for him. Pulling your top off, sliding your skirt down; exposing your matching emerald set. You didn't let the fun stop there, turning around for him to see your ass, bending over and slowly pulling your panties off.

His jaw dropped at the sight of your shaved pussy, glistening with wetness, just for him. You turned back, seeing his once blue and bright eyes now dark and full of desire. You stand in front of him, as he pulls your hand onto the sofa, perfectly placed into missionary. He spits on his cock, you watching as he rubs into his leaking precum.

"C'mon, Seb baby put it in me already." You whined, watching as he smirked.

"Someone's a little impatient hm?" He laughed a bit, still in shock at his many restless nights coming true all in the span of a few minutes.

He slapped his cock against your entrance, pushing his tip into your tight hole, equalling in you both moaning.

"Scheiße; you're so fucking tight." He grunted, pushing his thick cock further in.

You pulled him closer towards you, kissing his full lips as a sense of comfort compared to his cock shattering your world.

"Faster." You breathily moaned out, feeling Seb's hands flip you around onto all fours swiftly.

He smacked your ass, beginning to pummel into you from behind, immediately hitting such spots you never knew existed. You bit your lip, feeling the metallic edge as you try to contain your moans.

"Such a good girl; taking me so well." He praises, gathering your hair as he pulls you up.

"Open." He commands, spitting in your mouth as you fall back down onto your hands, his pace never slowing.

"Fuck, Seb please don't stop." Pathetically begging, the sound of his hips snapping against your ass making you even wetter.

He didn't even care if people heard - in his opinion it made it all the better. He could feel your cunt pulsate around his cock, making him hit deeper.

"Please- I'm going to cum-" You could barely finish your sentence, legs shaking as you felt a tight knot explode; the biggest orgasm you've ever had.

He smacked your ass, never letting his pace weaken, letting you ride out your high.

Gasping for breath, you could feel his strokes become sloppy, you quickly pulled off his dick. Getting onto your knees straight away, you opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out playfully.

"Oh verdammt, you look so pretty like that." He gasped out, letting his white cum paint your tongue and sides of your lips.

You licked his cum up straight away, lips making a smacking noise from your finger. The tiredness hit you both straight away, collapsing on top of each other, snuggling in the post-sex haze.

"And here I thought you were an innocent angel, in reality you're one kinky girl." He laughed, watching you blush and become shy again even though you just had filthy sex.

The next couple months contained a shit ton of sex in a shit ton of different places before deciding to go public, taking the media by storm.

#sebastian vettel #sv5 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #fanfic #imagines #ferrari #imagine #seb vettel #aston martin f1 #aston martin #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #sebastian vettel blurb #sebastian vettel formula 1 racing f1 shirt #sebastian vettel drabble #sebastian vettel edit #sebastian vettel 5 #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel smut #seb vettel smut #f1 x you #f1 smut #f1 one shot #f1 imagines #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #f1 fanfic #pierre gasly

[strbymacaroon]

❀ “That’s Jean’s Girl” ❀

❀ Toxic Jean Kirstein x Smart Petite Fem. Reader. ❀

❀ Sypnosis:

Jean. Kirstein.

Jesus Christ, who didn’t know his name? Everywhere you looked you were sure to find someone talking about. Looks, sex, attitude, money, anything you could think of was latched to that name. And, he lived up to his reputation perfectly.

A toxic, full of himself, man-whore. Someone who uses other people for his own gain.

And his next target? You.

A sweet, innocent, naive, freshman girl.

Right?

❀ Genre:

Attack on Titan, College AU.

❀ Content warning:

Dark content, manipulation/toxicity, previous relationships, slight voyeurism, degradation, sub, smut at the end, oral sex, revenge sex, non-penetrative sex, explicit video recording, dacryphilia, Scum-bag Jean, etc. (Not proof-read.)

❀ Word Count:

28.5K words.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

Jean lifted his glasses to the bridge of his head, a few strands of hair framing his face as he pulled his best friend, Eren, to his side. “Let me tell you one thing.” He told him, smiling as some girls passing by. “Nothing is sweeter than a little virgin creaming on your dick for the first time.” 

Eren shoved his best friend away, “Ew.. I swear, we need to censor you.” He mumbled, taking a sip of his soda. “But, I guess that’s just how you are.” And, Eren wasn’t lying. 

Jean and Eren were popular at their campus. Hell, people in neighboring campuses knew about them. That’s just how it is. Cherry chasers, playboys– whatever people called man whores, because they would call them everything, but that. 

A painful double standard? Yes. Annie knows full well, but that’s how the world is. 

The two boys didn’t care. They were trying to enjoy their youth. So, shitty decisions and careless actions were their constant. Even if they were at the expense of other people, mostly girls they hooked up with. In short. They were someone people didn’t want to get tangled up with. 

Jean laughed, “Everyone knows it, and loves it.” He walked up, glancing at the menu. Jean always liked to change what coffee he drank before going to class. He always found it boring to stick to one thing. It got repetitive and bland, he always liked to experience new flavors. Especially the ones no one knew about, it was like his little secret. 

And, Jean was known for gatekeeping things. “Besides, some girls are into that.” Jean said, nodding to himself and choosing a flavor. Was it something new? He could’ve sworn he’s never seen it on the menu before.. “They wanna’ fix me or some shit.” He rolled his eyes, “You know how some bitches are.” 

Eren groaned, “Yeah, I know.” He said, pulling out his phone and clicking on his last messages. Trying to pick out a certain conversation he just had last night, but he couldn’t recall the girl’s number.. 2056 or 2065?.. I know it’s one of the two. 

He handed the phone to Jean, scrolling up slightly. “Just had one last night.” Jean grabbed his phone, reading the messages. 

“Damn, that’s kinda harsh.” He said, cringing at his best friend’s reply. ‘I didn’t ask you to.’ I mean, Eren did just meet the girl. 

“What? She said she wanted to be there for me for the rest of my life.” He made a face, “She didn’t even know my favorite color.” 

“She also said she’s available tonight at eight.” Jean said, handing the phone back to Eren. “And she’s got a pretty good guess on what your favorite color is.” He pointed at the picture she just sent Eren. A sexy lingerie photo, with his favorite color, emerald green.

“I told her about it last night.” He said, pushing his phone into his pocket. “I just didn’t feel like committing to someone I met a week ago.” Which was completely reasonable. 

“Wait, she was planning to be there for you, when you two barely met?” Eren shrugged, beforing nodding. “Wait a week ago? Is this that one girl from the party?” He snapped his fingers a few times, trying to think of her name. “Pieck was it..”

Jean smiled, “Yeah, you’re right. That was her name.”  Damn, how the hell did Jean know her name and Eren didn’t. He was slightly embarrassed, but didn’t know how to bring it up. Especially after the two of them slept together that night. 

Eren doesn’t really remember though, he was practically black out drunk when it happened. He just woke up to a piece of paper under his phone, along with a— ‘I’ll text your later’ note. He didn’t even know her name at the time. 

“Damn, must be nice.” Jean said with a laugh, “I’d give anything to make a girl that obsessed with me.” He was being sarcastic. 

Eren rolled his eyes, “Girls are that obsessed with you.” 

Jean laughed, “No, they’re not–” 

“Hey, uhm..” some girl giggled behind them, “You’re really cute, can I get your number or something?..” Jean turned over his shoulder, peering at the two girls behind him. One girl was slightly closer to him, the other a foot behind her. She was cute. Small. He liked that in girls, when they were shorter than him. Jean turned his head to Eren. And Eren gave him a look that could only be described as– ‘I told you so.’ 

Jean rolled his eyes, looking back at the girl. “Sure, yeah.” He pulled out his phone, handing it to the girl. “I’ll shoot you a text, yeah?” Something was telling Eren, Jean wasn’t going to ‘shoot her a text.’ He was just trying to be polite. When the two left, Jean turned back to him rolling his eyes. 

“What? I thought you wanted a girl to be obsessed with you.” Eren teased, “Give it a week and I think you’ll have a Pieck of your own.” 

Jean groaned, walking up to the counter after what felt like forever. “I fucking hate you.” 

Eren smiled, leaning on his shoulder briefly. “I love you too, horse–cock.”

“I thought it was horse–face?” Jean replied, noticing no one was tending to the cashier. Was this Starbucks really that packed? I mean, they did just wait thirty minutes to order so– maybe..

“It was.” Eren replied. “But, I feel after recent events— that name is more fitting.” 

Jean tapped his fingers on the counter, bringing his body over and looking at the people. “You know that wasn’t me in the video.” He said, turning over his shoulder. “Unless you’re dying to find out.” 

“Go fuck Floch if you’re that horny.” Eren laughed, “You know how hard he gets over you.” 

“Shit, I’m not getting in between what the two of you have.” Jean clicked his tongue. “If I remember correctly he did say he was a Yeagerist.” 

“He was high, and stupidly drunk.” Eren defended, leaning his back to the counter. “We all say stupid shit high and drunk. I don’t even know half the shit that’s going on when I’m drunk.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Jean dismissed. He totally wants to fuck Eren.

“I’m so sorry for the wait! We got backed up for a second.” Hands clasped together, showing sorrow. On your thumb, a white gold, purity ring. That’s always a good sign for Jean. Jean turned his attention to the small cashier, eyes beaming widely at him. His eyes went to the tag. 

‘Y/n ❤︎︎’

How cute, you drew a heart by your name. Right above it was ‘1st year: Student.’ And you were a student, a freshman at that. Even cuter. You pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, pushing your glasses to the bridge of your nose. Placing your finger on the screen of the computer. “You know how busy college coffee shops can get, everyone needs coffee in their system.” You giggled, giving him another smile. 

“I can already feel myself relapsing, I need it in my system.” Jean joked, smiling at you. Dimples denting into his slightly tan skin. 

You giggled, leaning closer. “You and me both, but I want a cake-pop.” You bit your lip, “I seriously love sweet things. It’s like— my favorite thing ever!” You paused, before awkwardly adding— “Along with the color pink.” 

Jean felt a chill go down his spine, he laughed it off, trying to ignore the thoughts traveling through his head. Not the one he was talking with. You were his type. “The ones from here?” 

“Yes!” You said, almost a little too loud for your liking. You pressed your lips together, your hand coming to your lips. “Yes, especially the ones from here.” You said, quieter than before. Giggling at yourself. 

Jean felt his heart flutter for a second. That was cute. 

You shook your head, pushing your glasses to the brim of your nose. “But, what can I get you?” You turned your head to the side, looking at something before looking back at him. Smiling cutely, adding a head tilt for good measure. Jean looked at Eren. Eren looked at Jean. Who were you? They’ve never seen you on campus. Which would kind of make sense, it was the beginning of the second semester, and you were a freshman. 

You were cute. Small and soft spoken, Jean wondered how soft spoken you would be crying over his cock. “Uhm,” Jean shook his head, trying to ignore his dick for a second. And his head. “Get me the cake batter frappuccino, venti.” 

You looked at him, blinking with wide eyes. Your lips pressed together slightly, wiggling slightly. Like you were suppressing a laugh. Before tapping on the screen. “Alright, Cake Batter Frappuccino.” You turned into your shoulder, a small huff of air leaving your lips. Almost like a small laugh. 

No, it was a small laugh. “What?” Jean asked, intrigued. Who were you? Cute, that’s for sure. He wanted you. 

“Just—“ you let out a small giggle, pressing your hand to your lips. “I’m so sorry— that’s just my favorite drink.” You told him, clearly lying— well, half lying. That wasn’t what you were laughing about. 

“Is it?” Jean could see that. You seemed like a person who likes sweet things. Candy, flowers, lollipops, cards, maybe even stuffed animals. 

“I’ve never tried it.” Jean said, sliding you his card. “Wanted to try something new.” He said, his dark eyes bouncing to your shiny ones. You nodded, checking the price. 

When your friend —and coworker— bumped into your shoulder, smiling at him. “So I’ve heard.” She replied to Jean, glancing at the computer screen. She pouted, “Goddammit.” You stuck your tongue out at her, whispering— “You owe me thirty and I’m leaving after this.” You pushed her away, grabbing his card and smiling. “It’s going to be eight, eightyseven.”

You glanced at him before putting the card into the machine. “Is that okay?” Your lip went in between your teeth, glossy and soft. Jesus.

Jean swallowed, biting his tongue. But, he couldn’t stop himself, “You don’t have to ask, just do what you want.” His hands went into his pockets. 

Your eyebrows came together, “Uhm, yes I do?” You swiped the card, “It’s kinda’ policy..” 

Eren snickered, turning it into a cough when Jean glared at him. “Sorry, yeah.” 

You handed him back his card, grabbing a cup and a sharpie. You lifted your head, about to ask his name. However, the two of them were walking away. Rude. 

You rushed after them, “Excuse me!” You said, catching the one with a man-bun attention. He elbowed his friend. 

Jean looked back at you, “I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name.” You said, pointing at the cup with the sharpie. Pink, it was a cute pink. 

Jean felt frozen, you didn’t know his name? Everyone knew who Jean was. Hell, people in neighboring colleges knew who Jean was. 

“Jean.” He said. He didn’t know why, but he hated that you didn’t know him. Everyone knew him, except you. He wanted you to know him. You were going to know him. Or, know him enough to let him get in your pants. Either two worked. Maybe, you were the new flavor he wanted to try. New and different, something no one knew anything about. And, Jean always gate-kept things. 

You smiled, writing down his name. Placing the cup on the counter and sliding it to your coworker. “I’m off.” You slid off the barista apron, starting to walk off when someone stopped you. 

“Y/n! Uhm! Could you—“ they stopped, going to the edge of the counter and waving for you. Making you smile and nod your head. Placing your hands against theirs and saying, “Yes?” 

The guy hesitated, before finally speaking. If Jean remembered correctly, his name was Porco. Pock is what his friends call him. Popular dude he was, knew a lot of people. But, nothing much compared to Jean. The only reason Jean knew about Porco was, because he asked his ‘girlfriend,’ Historia, out on a date. Jean didn’t do anything about it, just went out of his way to find out information about the guy. “Would you want me to walk you to class?” Porco said, his hand going to his neck and rubbing it nervously. “I think we have the same class together.”

You blinked a few times, before smiling at him kindly. Your skin heating up, fingers playing with your hair for a moment. “Mr. Ackerman?” 

Porco smiled, “Yeah, Mr. Ackerman.” Your voice was still so soft. Porco didn't know if you were being nice or flirty. He hoped it was the latter. “Let me go change and I’d love to walk with you.” You always loved making new friends. “Oh wait! Let me just give you my number!” You passed him a pre-written note, something you were going to give to someone else. Porco took it, and bashfully smiled at you. 

You gave him a final smile, a small pat on the hand and turned around. Your hair snugly held in a messy bun. You looked so— nerdy. Jean’s never been with a nerdy girl. An innocent, small, nerdy girl. Sounded like fun. Eren noticed his best friend's transfixed gaze. Smiling to himself he instantly played on the idea, “Did you find a new drink you wanna try?” 

Jean shook his head, “I think I did.” 

Eren gestured to the blonde boy, “Well, you better hurry up and grab it before someone else does.” Eren pulled out his phone, “I’m going to call a friend.” He took a final glance in your direction. 

Jean nodded, walking up to Pock and placing his hand on his shoulder. Porco turned to him, making the brunette friendly smile at him. It was a common thing to see with Jean, he was always smiling. “You know Y/n?” It was intimidating. 

Porco blinked a few times, shaking his head. “No, we just have a class together.” 

Jean faked a relieved sigh, “Oh, then nevermind them, it’s nothing.” He turned on his heel, about to return to Eren when Porco called for Jean. Making him give his best friend a knowing smile. It was just too easy sometimes. 

“Is there something.. wrong? With that?..” Porco had his arms crossed over his chest, slightly offended by Jean. 

Jean shook his head, “No, no. Nothings wrong,” he cooed, his smile staying put. “You just share a class with her, right?” His hands were in his pockets again. Playing with something inside. 

Porco’s eyes glanced at it, then answered. “Uhm, kinda.” 

“Good.” He said, turning back to Eren. Speaking to him over his shoulder, his smile was gone. “Because, that’s my girl you’re talking to.” Jean gripped the item in his pocket. “And, I fucking hate the idea of someone trying to get at her.” 

Eren looked at Porco, seeing him glance at him for help. Which wasn’t something Eren was going to give him. He didn’t like to deal with this side of Jean, it was toxic and annoying. 

“You know how it is.” You know how I can be. Was what Jean was really saying. 

Porco’s eyes widened, “Shit, my bad man. Didn’t know you two were a thing.” Jean pushed a strand of hair off Porco’s face. 

Jean didn’t correct him. I mean, soon enough it would be true. That’s how it always ended. Jean always got what he wanted. “Well, you know now.” He pushed him away, scowling lightly. “So, don’t do it again.” 

Porco thickly swallowed, glancing at Eren. He only glanced up and gave him an amused smile, Eren wasn’t going to help. 

Porco sighed, pushing his way out of the coffee shop. Jean’s eyes followed him, watching as he joined a group. Probably his friends, before they all walked away. Demanding for an explanation on what just happened. 

Jean watched with an amused smile as Porco pointed at Jean. Now, none of those guys were going to talk to you.

You walked out, hugging your friend and looking around. Trying to find the male who you were just speaking with. Where did he go?.. Before walking to where he was once standing, not too far from Jean. 

“He left.”

You turned to Jean, blinking at him confused. “But.. he’s the one who invited me to walk with him?..” You placed both hands behind your back, holding onto them. 

Jean shrugged, “Guys can be like that.” 

You giggled, “I guess so.” You played with the white gold, purity ring, on your thumb, trying to keep yourself occupied. “Are.. you like that?” You were playful, smiling at him kindly. 

“Why don’t you find out.” He played, taking a step in your direction. Glancing down at your feet, seeing that they weren’t pointed in his direction. Hm. 

You nibbled on your bottom lip, giving him a kind smile. Looking at him with your shiny eyes before looking away, “Well, if you see him, tell him I don’t have Mr. Ackerman’s class today, I just didn’t want to say no.” You had another job to work though. You twisted around, taking a step towards the exit. “Bye.” You kindly said. Finally, leaving the coffee shop with a soft ‘ding!’

“She seems interested.” Eren said, watching you walk away. You also peaked his interest, but not in the way Jean was interested. No. He probably was going to do some research on you. 

“She wasn’t.” 

Eren gave him a look, cutting off his thoughts. “You’re kidding?” He rolled his eyes, “I swear you’re so conceited sometimes.” 

“She wasn’t, her body wasn’t facing mine, when she smiled the corners of her eyes didn’t crinkle, and she kept the conversation short and away from opening it further.” He said, “She didn’t want to be talking to me, she was just being polite. Just like she was being polite with Porco.” 

“I doubt that.” 

Eren and Jean turned their heads to the barista, if Jean remembered correctly it was the one that hugged you. He walked up, giving her a smile. 

“Cake Batter Frappuccino?” She asked, “Is this what you always get?”

“No.” He took the cup from her hands, turning his back to her. “She was interested.” He told Eren, “Y/n, wasn’t.” He glanced at the name, smiling. Letting out an amused laugh. 

Eren tilted his head, “What?..” 

Jean twisted the cup to Eren, showing the name written. ‘Shawn :)’ “Yeah, she made it pretty obvious.” You knew who he was. You just wanted nothing to do with him. 

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

You pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose, putting pen to paper. Glancing at the board, coping down the equation and trying to complete it on your own. You knew how to do this, just happen to make small mistakes costing you the answer. You hate how tedious math can be. But, you can’t deny how much this was your passion. Blowing a strand of hair out of your face, you rested your head on the table. If you did the problem right, the answer should be 2. Which was ridiculous for how long it took you to finish it. Which wasn’t odd, just something you always complained about. 

Your professor lifted their hand, glancing at the watch on his wrist. “We’ll wrap this up later,” he dismissed, “I don’t feel like teaching it anymore, enjoy your weekend.” He walked to his desk, throwing the expo marker. “Homework is what’s posted in my class.” 

You giggled, closing your notebook and placing your pencil on top of it. Reaching for your bag and shoving your stuff inside. Trying to leave the classroom as quickly as possible. You didn’t want to be late for your job. “Mr. Ackerman,” you said, walking to the front of the classroom. “I was wondering if I can get an extension on the essay due tomorrow?” 

Levi's eyebrows came together, “I gave you a week to complete that assignment, why do you need an extension?” He had his arms crossed over his chest, his head tilted to the side. 

“Well, I’ve had work everyday after this class til’ 10, and in the morning I work at the coffee shop until my first class.” You placed your hands behind your back, fiddling with your ring. 

“What time is your first class?” 

“Usually 12.” You were slightly embarrassed to ask this, you were always incredible at staying on top of your work. Just with the holidays coming up, and the end of the semester. Studying and work has started to become a blurred line. You wanted to get something nice for your family. “But, I promise you I’ll be able to get it done by next week, I’m going to get a long holiday break.” Almost two months. “Coffee shops aren't open when campus isn’t open and I’m friends with my manager.” You said. 

Levi sighed, “It’s fine.” He suppressed a smile, “Just forget about it, it’s nothing to worry about.” He walked to his desk, leaning against it. “It’s my Christmas present.” 

“I still want you to get me some AirPods, Professor Ackerman.” You responded, turning on your heel and walking away. 

“Don’t call me that,” he muttered, “It makes me feel old.” Tapping his foot on the ground. 

You giggled, “Levi, you are old.” You played, “And, I don’t think you want me to call you Tío at school.” You turned on your heel, walking backwards as you walked with him. “And, I think that would make you feel older.” 

He has known you since you were a child. You could hear him mutter, “Spoiled brat.” Aauhh, you loved Levi, and he loved you. 

You turned back around, only to embarrassingly bump into someone. You could feel your face burn. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” You said, tilting your head up and looking at the person. You could feel the gears in your head turning, he looked familiar. 

“Y/n?” 

You told him your name? Oh, Shawn! The boy in front of you was Shawn. Or, mostly known as, the school's most infamous two faced boy, Jean. It had only been two weeks since you last saw him. 

“ Now, lets quickly–Pause  ▹ “

This was the last person you wanted to see. Why, you may ask? 

Because. 

Okay, not just because… it wasn’t as easy as pinpointing a specific reason. There were many reasons. But, to give you a few ideas!–

It was because you hated the way he treated women, his friends, and acted in public. It was extremely unattractive. Sure, people let him get away with it because he was conventionally attractive —which is debatable—, rich, and a star when it came to his sport. But, you didn’t care about any of that. 

Especially after the way he treated your best friend. Mikasa. 

Maybe, you can pinpoint your hatred, and where it started. 

Mikasa was a senior when you were a freshman. She would constantly say, you were her freshman. And, she absolutely adored you. You equally adored her. If that was possible. It probably wasn’t.

Mikasa bought you McDonald’s, took you shopping, drove you home, bought you Starbucks, and gave you money if you needed some. School lunches these days are expensive. She was like your big sister. The big sister you needed in your fucked up family and life. She really did help you with a lot of things. You seriously loved her. A part of you wondered late at night if you loved her too much. 

The plan was— Mikasa would apply to Trost State University. And, when it came time for you to go to college, you would also apply. 

You two were so excited! 

You wanted to meet her friends, but you only met a few of her close ones before she graduated. —Some of which you couldn’t remember— But, a bit before she left— you remember her distinctively telling you, “I met someone!” 

You wished you took a picture of her. You’ve never seen her that happy. You’ve never seen her love that hard. 

Maybe that was the problem. The only love she ever produced, was one stronger than the rays of the blistering sun. The two of you celebrated with —illegal— drinks for your age. It was sweet. She told you everything about him. And, let’s just say your expectations were high… “You don’t get Y/n, I’m obsessed.” Mikasa’s eyes widened, stuffing a fry into her mouth. Before grabbing a tater tot and adding it. 

“I feel like we got too many fries.” You said, grabbing a tater tot and popping into your mouth. Eating it quickly with your mouth open as it burned your mouth. Mikasa always made eating hot food so misleading, she made it look so normal. 

“I don’t think we got enough.” She ran her tongue over her pink lip. “No, but–I really think, this is the guy.” Her hands moved over the steering wheel, parking the car. 

“You said that about the last guy.” You groaned, giving her a look. Grabbed your ‘drink,’ and pressed the top against your lips. 

She pinched your cheek, “We made up, and I still do think he’s the one.” She sighed dreamily, “and he was amazing in bed.” 

You scrunched your nose in disgust, a chill going down your spine. “Ugh, I forgot you had sex.” You pressed your lips together, “It’s so gross.” You finally took a sip from your ‘drink.’ Okay, it was alcohol in a sippy cup. 

“Y/n, believe me. Once you find the one, you won’t hate it.” Mikasa said, looking at you for a second. “Unless.. you already found one.” 

You looked at her smiling, quickly putting the glass bottle down. “I have,” You placed your hand on her arm, “Mikasa, there’s—“ you faked a sniff, “there’s something I need to tell you..” 

She laughed, before grabbing your hand. “There’s something I need to tell you too, Y/n— I,” she closed her eyes, pretending to struggle. 

“Let’s just say it at the same time.” You muttered, getting closer to her face. Trying not to laugh. 

“I love you.” 

“I love Dilfs.” 

Mikasa’ jaw dropped. “Shit, me too but,” 

You snorted. “But— what?” 

“I totally misread the signals.” She said, leaning back into the driver's chair and getting another fry. “I thought we were having a moment.” 

You put your hand on her shoulder. “We were.” You took the fry from her. “But, not in a way you thought.” 

“Jesus.” She laughed. “I guess, I’ll just move onto my other hoe.” She smiled, “But, you were always my number one.” 

“Wait, you never told the guy's name.” You looked to the side thoughtfully, “Or, the guy before that..'' you felt your eyebrows mush together. “Wait, do these guys even go to our school?”

“Oh course they do, Y/n.” She rolled her eyes, “I loved Dilfs, but I don’t wanna date one.” She pressed her lips together and smiled, “Just yet..” 

You nodded, giving her a discrete thumbs up. 

“No, but his name is Jean.” She smiled, tilting her head back in her chair. “And, he’s the guy I’m going to marry.” And, you’ll never forget his name. Jean. 

It was always fresh in your head the next two years of highschool. “What’s he look like? Do I know him?” You muttered, twisting your body in the chair, and lifting your legs onto the seat. 

“No, unfortunately.” She murmured, “but, I do have a picture of him.” She reached for her pink phone, unlocking it and going to her camera roll. “He’s so cute!” 

You watched her squirm, smiling at her phone. Clicking on to something and flipping the screen to you. You could feel your smile slowly drop. “This is the guy you’re twisting your panties about?” You tilted your head, squinting your eyes. “He’s so—“ 

“Cute!” 

“Horse face.” 

“What.” 

You smiled, “He has a horse face.” You giggled, “Maybe he’s just not my type but, absolutely not.” 

She pouted, dropping her arm. “What?… I thought he was so cute..” 

“Mikasa, you thought Floch was cute.” You deadpanned. 

“I said, I didn’t think he was as ugly as people made it to be!” She almost shouted. 

You two giggled. “Well, if you're happy, that’s all that matters.” You smiled, “I just want you to be happy Mika, you deserve to be.” 

She smiled, bringing you into a hug. “Thanks, Y/n.” She pulled back, holding your hand. “What would I do without you?”

And, she was happy. Was. 

The moment the two of you parted, that’s when everything went downhill. It was probably the universe telling the two of you, you needed each other. And you did. You still do. 

She would still pick you up from school. Since your parents were never around to do it, and that’s when you would hear it. That’s when you would finally see your best friend— big sister, fall down in tears. 

Over what? A boy. Over Jean. 

You hated those days. Absolutely hated them. It was like you could feel her pain seeping into your heart. She would pick you up, and sob about what the boy she liked–loved did to her. The boy she loved. About how he cheated, lied, and ignored her. At some point, Mikasa wondered if Jean hated her. Mikasa was such a sweetheart, she thought she was doing something wrong. 

She was never in the wrong. And, that’s the Jean you know. The one who absolutely tore the heart of your big sister. The one who ruined her so much, she thought she was in the problem. 

The worst part was, every time she cried, it was always over something. One day– Fuck. 

One day, Mikasa claimed he wanted someone different. Jean wanted someone small, innocent, untouched, and cheerful. Something that—Jean claimed, Mikasa wasn’t. At least, not anymore. And, you saw it. The moment the gears in her head started turning as she looked at you. And, you had the same realization. 

Mikasa, just described you. And, that broke her. 

She no longer spoke to you after that. So, now that you were in college, you had to deal with seeing his ugly face. 

Where was she now? Unfortunately, she moved schools by the time you got accepted. But, the two of you stayed in contact. FaceTime every night, and some calls throughout the day. 

You two were still close. She managed to move on, but you could never forget the face and name of the man that broke her. Even if she forgave him. You wouldn’t. 

So, that one fateful day, you were working at the school Starbucks. You two were on call. The title, “Whore of Trost,” haunting your vision. A video the whole college knew about. “I can’t blame her for moving.” You whispered, “Poor girl, I can’t imagine what she must be going through.” You whimpered, existing out the video. You couldn't bear to watch anymore, you could feel yourself growing sick. You scrolled down looking at the comments. They didn’t help your condition. 

Mikasa mimicked your expression, turning away from her computer. “I can’t imagine, it’s a girl's worst nightmare.” She tilted her head, pressing her hand to her heart. “Have they caught who posted the video?” 

You shook your head, “They haven’t, I think the only thing that the school knows about is where it was shot.” The football locker room, “So, the whole football team is under surveillance.” You pressed your lips together, “But, I heard something about the baseball team getting revenge, or something.” 

“But, on a poor innocent girl?” Mikasa stressed, “I get the sports have their rivalry, but to bring an innocent girl into the mix is just fucked up. Keep it between the sports, not the students.” Mikasa scowled, she was very passionate about these things. “Was she dating one of the football players?” 

“No!” You stressed, “That’s what makes this so much more– frustrating. She was just an innocent bystander. In-fact, she didn’t even know she was being recorded.” What you don’t understand is why she hasn’t revealed who it was. 

Did the person have blackmail on her? Actually, was the video the blackmail?

“I hope she’s okay.” Mikasa’s voice cut you out of your thoughts. 

You nodded, “I hope so too.” 

“Are you on break?” Mikasa asked, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Yes, I’m on my break.” You replied. Pressing a strand of hair behind your ear. Trying to forget about the heavy feeling on your shoulders. 

“How many goddamn breaks do you get?!” She asked, trying to make you smile. “You called me like an hour ago.” 

“I was also break.” You opened the door, peering into the barista room. Seeing everyone make drinks and take orders. It looked packed today, maybe you should be out there..

Naw. 

“You must be abusing your break privileges.” 

You forced a giggle, leaning back and walking into the room. Recalling something that happened recently. With something you did abuse. Actually, it was something you constantly abused. “I abuse my pretty privilege.” 

“Again?!” Mikasa asked shocked, “Did you make another boy cry?” 

You sat down on the small chair in the break room, “Look, I thought I liked this guy, really did. But, the moment we started—“ you giggled, “You know, having sex— I realized, absolutely-fucking-not.” You sighed, “Gave him the best head and pussy in the game, then dipped.” He was fucking horrible in bed. You couldn’t express that enough. 

“No wonder he was heart-broken.” She cooed, “He got pussy-whipped.” 

“They all get pussy whipped.” You put her on speaker, lowering your phone and looking through your messages. “Look, I’ll send you some shit he’s been sending me. It’s so fuckin’ cringy.” 

“Jesus, Y/n, what the hell happened to you.” You could tell she was joking. “Ah, it feels like just yesterday we were in my car, you telling me about how gross sex was— and now look at you!” She cooed, “A full on man-eater, leaving a trace of heart-broken guys with such an innocent face.” 

“Man-eater?” You questioned, sending the picture to Mikasa. A long string of messages about how much he loved you, and wanted you in his life. Only to soon follow they by— ‘one more time, let’s fuck one more time, please. Then, I leave you alone.’ 

Ah, men begging was always so funny. 

“Jesus, is that an 8-ball game you sent him?” 

“Yeah, he’s really bad, so it helps me raise my stats.”

“Jesus..” 

“What’s a man-eater?” You questioned again, still wanting an answer. Reaching into your pocket and playing with the small jewelry inside. 

“Exactly what you are.” She laughed, “If you searched up the definition ‘man-eater’ your face would pop up.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “But honestly, they deserve it.” Clearly. After the video was spread, you couldn’t agree more. 

But, you felt your throat run dry. Your heart stopped. Well, fuck me. “Mika, you wouldn’t believe who’s in line right now.” 

You could hear her groan on the other line. “God, don’t tell me.” There was a slight pause, before the two of you spoke at the same time. 

“Jean.”

“Your mom.” 

You made a face, “I swear to god, when will you drop that ‘your mom’ thing?” You asked, almost annoyed. But, you couldn’t be annoyed at Mikasa. 

“Never, Y/n. Never.” She giggled. “But, ew. I completely forgot he loves coffee.” 

You could feel your eyes bulge out of your head. “And, you didn’t think of telling me that when I told you I was applying to a coffee shop?!” You almost shouted. 

She laughed again, “I forgot.” 

“Bull-fuckin-shit.” You joked. Searching up the definition. 

‘INFORMAL

a dominant woman who has many sexual partners.” 

I guess that’s not completely wrong. 

Besides, you’ve always wanted to see a big strong, alpha male. Tied to your bed, begging you to touch him while you record. 

But, you were saving that for a certain boy. Which, coincidentally, was waiting outside for coffee. 

“I mean, this isn’t wrong.” You said, leaning back in your chair and sighing. “But, you know, all my sexual partners are just people I used to pass time.” Or, to get revenge for other people. 

“Or, hurt for other people.” Mikasa added. She was always good at reading your mind. 

“Some girls want me to hurt them for revenge.” You shrugged, “Who am I to say no.” You always understood the pain of someone who did you wrong in a relationship, you literally watched your best friend go through it. And, you couldn’t do anything. 

Now, you can. 

You try making up for it by helping other girls your age. 

“If you get the chance, do it to Jean.” Mikasa said jokingly. But, you couldn’t help, but notice how her tone deepened. A part of her wasn’t joking. 

“If I can, I will Mika.” You told her, standing up and throwing your hair back. Walking towards the doors, about to go outside. 

“Okay, Y/n.” She cooed. 

You peered outside again, looking at him. “I’ll call you back.” You wanted to do what you always did. “Luca! Get over here!” You whispered, pulling the cashier to the side. She looked at the person, quickly finishing their order and walking to you, confused. 

“I’m in the middle of—“ 

“The shark is out of the pond!” You whisper shouted. Eyes wide as you grabbed her shoulders. “The shark is out of the pond.” 

She blinked, “Oh, shit.” She looked out the door, “Don’t tell me.” You didn’t have too. 

“Do something shitty to his drink,” you told her. You weren’t allowed to serve drinks, only work as a cashier. “I’ll take the order.” 

Her jaw dropped. “Girl, I love you, but I can’t lose my job.” She gestured to the cashier, “Just over charge him.”

That wasn’t enough. “That isn’t enough after all the shitty things he’s done to—“ you paused, feeling guilt crawl up your throat. You didn’t mean to tell Luca about Jean and Mikasa, you just were so overwhelmed—

Luca pressed her lips together, not wanting to say anything. 

“How about this, we bet on it.” You forced a smile at her, “if he orders one of my favorite drinks, you give me thirty, and do something to the drink.” You smiled, “If he orders one of your favorite drinks, I’ll give you thirty and cover one of your shifts.” 

“Deal.” 

You smiled, “Good, lemmie cover this order.” You pushed the doors open, four things in your head. 

Jean wanted someone small, innocent, untouched, and cheerful. 

Just like Mikasa had once heartbreakingly told you. 

You turned to Luca, “If I win, I want you to fucking shit in his drink.” You smiled at her sweetly, reaching into your pocket and pulling out the white gold, purity ring. Slipping it into your thumb. “Kay?” 

She shook her head, “Whatever you want.” 

You pushed the doors open, widening your eyes, and smiling sweetly. Going behind the counter, “I’m so sorry for the wait! We got backed up for a second.” Your hands were clasped together, trying to show your —fake— sorrow. 

Your purity ring shining under the coffee shop lights. 

“ Play  || “

Sure, you’ve seen him around. But, you always avoided him, walking away, pretending not to see him, and plain out ignoring him. You didn’t want to see him. 

“Y/n?” 

Now, you couldn’t exactly do that. 

You pressed your lips together, suppressing the scowl that was building on your face. “Oh, hey!” You said, cheerfully. Holding onto your backpack’s strap. 

“That’s right, you have Ackerman’s class.” Jean grabbed his glasses, lifting them to the crown of his head. Smiling sweetly, “How’s this going for you? Easy class?” 

He’s trying to make small talk, Y/n. Don’t slap the shit out of him. 

Yet. 

Your eyes widened, faking your emotions. “Easy!? This class kills me.” You laughed, “But, I do excel in the material.” You smiled. 

“Maybe, you could tutor him, Y/n.” Levi interjected, “He seriously needs it.” 

You almost broke your neck when you twisted your head. You glared at Levi, speaking to Jean with your back to him. “What do you have in this class?” 

“Not something good.” Jean nonchalantly replied. 

You sighed, turning back to him and smiling. Clasping your hands to your chest and smiling, “Well, I’d be more than happy to help!” You placed a foot behind the other, tilting your head. “And, it’ll be completely free.” 

Jean smiled, “That sounds lovely.” He leaned down, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Bringing it in your direction, “Here, give me your number, I’ll text you where my dorm is.” 

You knew he wanted you to grab his phone, but you didn’t. You quickly went to his side, looping your left arm around his right one, and putting in your number. Hands wrapped around his single one holding the phone. 

Showing off the massive size difference between you two. Jean thickly swallowed, his eyes drinking up the skin you were showing. 

“Okay, I’m actually free next week today—“

“That works.” He cut you off, his eyes still trained on your hands. Slowly sliding off his body. 

You giggled, “Okay then, I’ll meet you at my dorm.” You said, running your tongue over your bottom lip. You turned on your heel, “See ya.” Jean smiled, his head following you as you walked away.  

Once you passed Jean, you turned to face Levi— walking backwards as you flipped him off. You hated your Tío sometimes. 

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

You dramatically groaned, rolling your eyes the moment you hit the library. It had been too long since your last visit. And, after your Jean encounter close to a week ago, you needed it to be quiet while you studied. 

“Jesus, I don’t know how long I can keep this up.” You moaned. Leaning on the outside railing, you needed to sit down. You needed to be alone. 

Everyday was the same thing, Jean would go to your job, your class, and your dorm. Don’t ask me how he found out, because I don’t know. So, you had to put on your poker face, and smile at him every time he walked you around the campus. 

It almost felt like he was a puppy. 

He probably was purposefully acting like a puppy. Trying to get on your good side, or something like that. 

It’s so annoying. 

When you felt someone tug your hair. “You bitch!” 

You turned, grabbed her hand and scowling at her. “What the fuck!” Who the hell was this— “Historia?” You questioned, confused on why the hell she yanked your hair. I mean, Jesus, that hasn’t happened since highschool. 

Historia was the school ‘it’ girl. Someone who had boys wrapped around her manicured finger. You two shared some random math class together. You always noticed how often someone was asking for her number. However, she always declined. 

Why? She was dead set on one guy. 

Take a wild guess who it is. 

“You’re such a two faced, ugly, bitch!” She said, tears pearling in your eyes. “I fucking trusted you, and this is what you do?! Stab me in the back?” You shoved her off you. 

“Historia, what the fuck are you talking about?!” You asserted, taking a step back and looking around. Now, there’s people looking at us. “Cause, I haven’t done shit.” You tried lowering your voice. 

“Jean!” She shouted back. 

You could feel that name echo through your head. 

Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. 

Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean. Jean..

Fucking. Jean. 

Why did he have to influence everything in your life? Most importantly, why didn’t it have to be you? You don’t even know what’s going on.

You mushed your eyebrows together, sighing. “Historia, I still have no clue what you’re talking about.” You said calmly, trying to de-escalate the situation. 

Maybe if you—

You pulled up your phone, opening your messages. “The only reason I have Jean’s phone number is because I tutor him.” And, you just got that yesterday. “And, I just got it like a week ago.” 

You twisted the screen to her face, showing that the two of you don’t even have any message dialogues. “If you want, you can search up my socials, and see if I follow him.” You didn’t. 

“Wait..” she muttered, tears falling down her cheeks slowly. “You two aren’t dating?..” 

What. 

“Dating?” You seethed, almost in disbelief before tilting your head back and laughing. “Historia, I don’t do dating.” You placed your hand into your hair, rubbing the spot she yanked. “I would never date Jean, not after what I’ve seen him do.” You said, damn, she yanked me hard. 

“That makes more sense.” She whispered, “I thought I was weird after what you did to Floch,” She paused for a second, “and Niccolo.” 

You squinted your eyes, “Niccolo was an accident,” but deserved, “and Floch was a favor.” Because, Floch literally sucks. It was about time someone put him in his place. And, you have the desperate, pleading, messages from him to prove it. 

“That makes sense.” Historia placed one foot behind the other awkwardly. She felt a guilt crawl up her spine. She completely forgot what you did for girls on campus. 

Jean could be another victim that you're wrapping into your web. Which could be something someone asked you to do. 

You pushed a gold strand of hair from her face. 

Then, placed a hand on her shoulder. “Now, I need you to tell me everything.” You we’re trying to keep your cool, “Because, I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.” 

Historia blinked a few times, before nodding her head. “I’m sorry.” She softly said, “But, if you hate him that much—“

“I do.” You cut her off, “You don’t understand the history I have with him.” She didn’t. That’s why her words didn’t completely piss you off. 

Historia pressed her lips together. “Did he do something.. bad?” He’s done bad things to her. Cheating seemed to be a familiar word when dating Jean. 

You sighed, taking a step back and looking at your feet. Closing your eyes, before opening them. “It’s about something he did to someone who was a part of me.” 

Mikasa. 

Historia thickly swallowed, “Then, I’m going to need you to sit down.” She grabbed her hands. “Because, it’s really bad.” 

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

You looked at Armin, then back to Historia. “Now that you’re all caught up,” you told him, “Historia, spill.” 

Armin grabbed your hand, shaking his head. “It’s better you hear from her, than Eren.” He whispered, squeezing your hand comfortingly. 

Eren. That name sounded familiar. If you recall correctly, that was a friend of Mikasa’s. Along with a friend of Armin’s. You’ve never met him, but you’ve heard about him when calling Mikasa. 

If you didn’t know any better, you believed Eren was Mikasa’s first love. 

You felt your eyebrows mush together at a realization, “Wait! You know about this Armin?!” You pushed his hand away, glaring at him. 

“..Yes..” Armin slowly said. 

You shut your eyes, “Oh my god, does everyone know, but me!?” You groaned, placing your hands to your face and keeping them there. 

By their silence. You took it as a yes. 

“How bad is it?” 

Armin silently grimaced. “I’ve never seen Jean act like this towards someone.” He leaned back in his chair, “I know he’s horrible, but not obsessive.” He muttered, “Especially with someone he doesn't even talk to.” 

“He likes the idea of you.” Historia added, “That’s what he’s obsessed with.” She bit her lip, hesitating. She didn’t know if this would be a good thing to tell you. “And, with the way you approach men, is exactly his type.” 

You’ve heard that one, too many times. 

“Makes sense.” You said, “That was my goal when I spoke with him, but I didn’t think it would work—“ you paused, “..this well.” 

Obsessive? Over the idea of you. 

That makes things easier. Now, you can make him fall hard for you. You couldn’t wait to throw him out like trash. 

“Anyways,” if you hear what he’s saying, it could possibly help you. Despite how much you don’t want to. “What’s this horse face been saying?” 

Historia blew a piece of hair out of her face. “It’s worse than what he said about Mikasa.” 

You pressed your lips together, your heart squeezing at the idea of Mikasa and her pain. You thickly swallowed, “And, how do you know that?” Rumors are just as fake as Barbie. 

She closed her eyes. “Because, I was sitting next to him when he said them.” 

But, that was something hard to deny. 

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

Eren took a puff of his blunt, his eyes glossy. “Oh, have you two ‘made up,’ yet?” Eren asked Jean, smiling at the girl in his lap. 

Pieck. 

At least, who he thought was Pieck. He couldn’t think straight. 

“Yeah, and she’s tutoring me.” Jean replied, taking the blunt from Eren. “She’s also my personal cocksleeve.” He passed the blunt to Porco. Skipping over Historia. He never allowed her to drink, smoke, or do anything much when she was with him. 

Historia kept her gaze to the floor, the idea of Jean being so open about his infidelity stung. It stung and hurt worse than a cut to the wrist. 

Who the hell was Jean’s new play thing? 

“Damn, if I knew she was such a slut, I would’ve never looked her way.” Porco added, lifting his cup to the rest of the group of friends. Which consisted of most of the football team. “Don’t want someone ran through, right?” His eyes landed on Historia for a split second. 

Cheers and laughter of agreement erupted within the group. While Jean stayed quiet, a smile on his lips. “I’m telling you, the more innocent they look, the more of a slut they are.” He placed his hand on Historia’s head, bringing her close to him. “Right, Historia?” He smiled down at her, watching the way her lip trembled. He was humiliating her. 

She nodded. She only nodded. 

“Yeah, she knows.” He pushed her away, grabbing his cup and taking a sip. “But, seriously, I don’t mind.” 

Eren laughed, cutting into his sentence. “Because, that’s your girl Jean.” He smiled, “You should be the last person to care.” 

Porco’s eyebrows came together, “Wait, who the hell are you talking about?” He asked, “I thought you were talking about her,” he pointed at Historia, “But—“ 

“Y/n.” Eren cut in, grabbing his cup from the table and lifting it to his lips. “The barista you asked out. Her.” He sighed quietly, making sure no one heard. Before adding, “Jean’s girl.” 

“Her?!” He said, “Shit, that’s not what I expected.” He muttered, “She looks so—“ 

���Innocent, I know.” Jean wanted to ruin that, just like he did with Historia. Just like he did with every girl he was with. “That’s what drew me to her.” Like a moth to a flame.

“Ugh, I want someone like that.” Reiner groaned, “Just— not used.” He added. 

“Believe me, they’re out there. Virgins who can’t wait to get dicked down.” Jean replied, “Just gotta’ find them.” He laughed to himself. “Of course, not mine.” He sent Reiner a wink.

“Like we’d want some used whore like that.” Reiner added, “Sorry, but no thanks.” 

“You’d be surprised.” Eren said. 

Jean sighed, nodding his head in agreement. “That’s why no one’s been talking to her.” He added, “Everyone knows that’s my bitch.” Jean stood up, tossing his drink onto the table. Watching it spill into the carpet. 

He didn’t care, it wasn’t his carpet. 

He didn’t care about anything unless it was his. Those were the only thing he cared about. 

“Anyways, I’m out.” He said, “I’m getting bored.” 

Historia glanced over at Jean, then to Eren. Eren felt a small snag of guilt hit his chest. “Jean,” he turned over his shoulder, “What about Historia, you takin’ her home.” 

“No.” He added a scoffing laugh, “I don’t care.” 

And with that, Jean was gone.

Eren sighed, looking at the small girl, “I’ll take you home.” He pushed Peick off, “Let’s go.” He reached his hand out, taking Historia’s small one and gently pulling her off the ground where she was sitting. “You don’t deserve to be on the floor.” 

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

That’s definitely not the little puppy following me around campus. You never released how two-faced Jean could be. 

“I can’t believe he said that to you.” Now, you absolutely needed to humble this man. Put his pleading text on the internet, some shit like that. Something to kill his goddamn ego. “I swear, I can’t believe people like that exist.” 

Armin nodded his head in agreement, you immediately leaned into him. Smiling at him, “I’m so glad you’re not like that Armin.” You mumbled into his jacket sleeve. “I swear, you’re so perfect babe.”

Armin smiled at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. Before, looking back at Historia, while she sighed. “I’m so thankful for Eren, he bought me some coffee after.” 

Your eyebrows came together, “Wait, Eren bought you coffee?” You scoffed, “And, not your boyfriend Jean?” You saw Historia cringe at the word ‘boyfriend.’

Historia softly sighed, “Jean’s never bought me anything.” She blinked a few times, “He’s never bought a girl anything, thinks his love is enough. And, if you want him to buy you something, he always makes you pay him back.” She paused, “He says he doesn’t really like romantic gestures.” 

“Ugh, I hate him.” You groaned. 

Armin pressed his lips together, “I’m glad Eren’s still the same.” He added. Trying to change the subject. 

Historia meekly nodded in agreement. Her fingers toying with her sleeve. “Me too.” 

Your eyebrows came together, “Wait, wait, please don’t tell me you’re talking about Jean’s best friend.” You asserted, pushing Armin’s arm off you. “The guy who’s literally the embodiment of Jean.” Sure, he might’ve bought Historia a coffee, but so what?

Armin pressed his lips together. Not wanting to add to the rumors. “Sure.” His response was brief, almost stiff.

You sighed, turning your attention to Historia. “Wait, you’re dating Jean?.. I thought he didn’t date anyone?” Especially with the amount of girls always around him. 

Historia propped her arm on the table, letting her head rest in her hand. “We’re not together, he just says we’re dating when it conveniences him.” She let out a long sigh, “With the amount of times he’s cheated on me, it just hurts more to say we’re together.” 

You could feel your heart shatter when she told you that. It felt like the late night calls you and Mikasa used to have. When she was breaking down over this shitty human. You stood up, a determined fist near your heart. “Make him fall in love with me and dump his ass!” You said, determined and proud. A eager smile on your lips. 

Armin slapped his hand over his face, softly groaning. Why were you like this?

You felt your phone vibrate, and instantly you got a bad feeling. It was on the table, face down, catching everyone’s attention. You smiled, “How much you wanna bet it’s Jean.” 

Armin squinted his eyes, playing the odd in his head. “Thirty if it’s that one boy.” He snapped his fingers a few times, trying to remember his name. “Niccolo was it? The one that’s begging you to fuck him again?” It was a good chance, since it was so fresh. He shrugged his shoulders, “Also. Forty if it’s Jean.” 

“Fifty if it’s Floch.” Historia added. 

You and Armin quickly agreed, Historia made the best bet. Floch was always texting you. 

You flipped the phone to you, glancing at the notification. You picked up your phone, flipping the screen so only you could see. Before smiling. “Fuck yeah.” You flipped the phone to the both of them, “It’s Jean and Floch.” And, Jean was asking for some tutoring. Fuck yeah. 

When, another number caught your attention. It was somewhat fresh, only sent an hour ago, and from an unsaved number.

324–1980–1234

Which was weird, despite not texting or calling the men you talked to, you always made sure to save their number. You didn’t like the idea of mixing up guys. Maybe, you didn’t save the number, because the numbers were so– unique. 1234, that’s so easy to remember. 

Obviously, not easy enough since you don’t remember the person. 

You clicked the notification, reading the text. A smile burning onto your face. Cute. Another horny boy asking you to fuck him. How original. 

More notably, he was saying ‘it can be a secret between the two of us.’ Which was odd.. Why would you need to keep anything a secret? You weren’t dating anyone, or talking to someone no less. His next text made you even more confused. 

‘Yk, since you’re Jean’s girl’

You could feel your eyebrows furrow together. Jean’s girl? What the hell? You weren Jean’s girl, in-fact– this was the first time you were hearing this. Wait, who the hell is this guy?! You were going to clarify, but Historia’s voice caught your attention. “How do you know this is even going to work?” 

You sighed, putting your phone down. I’ll respond later. “I don’t,” You lifted your eyes to Historia, “But, if I want this to work, you have to tell me everything you know about Jean.” You said, placing your phone down on the table. “And, I mean everything.” You leaned on Armin’s shoulder. 

Historia bit her lip, “I’m sorry, Y/n, but.. I don’t really know anything about Jean. Other than that, he doesn't talk to his parents anymore.” I can work with that. Historia glanced at Armin, “And, I don’t think anyone does.” She placed her hands on the table. 

Armin sighed, “He cut me off a month into college.” Armin placed his head on yours, accepting defeat with you. 

“Actually,” Historia voiced, keeping her eyes down. “I’m ashamed I haven’t told anyone, but..” She placed her hands to her face, whimpering to herself. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.” 

Your eyebrows came together, looking at Armin. The two of you stayed silent, unsure of how to respond. Unsure how severe Historia's confession may be. 

 Historia sniffed, blinking a few times, then finally looking at you. “I’m sure you both know the name..” 

You could feel your blood run cold before the name even left her name. 

“Annie.” 

The whore of Trost.

You could feel tears brim in your eyes at the thought. 

What did Jean know about Annie? And, why hasn’t he told anyone?… What was he hiding?

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

Eren moved his foot up and down, glancing at the clock. Watching it tick in his room, hearing the loud music playing from his roommates room. Sighing into his phone, “I don’t know, he’s never acted like that. Like this!” He paused, thinking about what he said. “Well, never to this extent.” 

“Maybe, he is projecting?..” the person responded. 

“From what trauma?” He replied, “He had a childhood I— we were jealous of Mika.” Eren sighed, “I just, I can’t play pretend anymore for his sake. Jean’s become a different person..” 

Mikasa sighed into the phone, “We don’t know that Eren.” 

“We knew him enough to know he had a private chauffeur!” He almost shouted, “Seems like a life to be jealous of.” Eren didn’t have that growing up. Hell, he didn’t even think he was going to attend college because of the cost. Luckily, his academic scholarship helped him attend his dream school. 

Mikasa stayed quiet for a moment, “People change Eren, there’s nothing I– we can do about that.” Something probably happened to the poor-boy before he went to college. “Just wait until he messes up something he actually wants. I promise you he’s going to change.” 

“I don’t think so..” Eren sat up in his bed, “I’m telling you Mika, this Y/n girl really has him twisted.” It’s so weird. “It makes me uncomfortable. She makes me uncomfortable. They both make me uncomfortable.” 

Mikasa sighed, “You remember my best friend from highschool?” Eren’s eyes widened, no way.. “Y/n’s her. And, the two are deathly different, yet similar.” Mikasa hated to admit it. “But, I’m not worried about her, she knows how to take care of herself.” 

Eren nodded, “You think so?” 

“I know so, Babe. Y/n’s someone I warn boys about.” Mikasa sighed, “I think Jean’s the one that should be scared.” Mikasa bit her lip, leaning down on her bed. “I think Jean’s going to experience a real heart break for once.” 

“I hope so,” Eren placed his hand to his head, closing his eyes. “He’s such a shitty person.” 

“Oh, speak of the devil.” Mikasa interrupted, “She’s calling me, I’ll call you later Eren.” 

“See ya.” Eren heard the phone line end, making him place his device on the bed. He missed who Jean was. There was a knock on his door, making him sit up on his bed. Looking at the door, taking a deep breath before speaking. “Come in.” 

The door split open, revealing the person behind it. Jean. “Hey, I’m going out.” He informed Eren, “I have tutoring tonight.” 

Eren hid the expression building on his face. Pity, for you. “With Y/n?” 

“Yeah, with Y/n.” He responded coldly. “See ‘ya.” He was about to close the door when Eren’s mouth moved on its own. 

“Watch out.” Jesus fucking christ, Mikasa was going to kill him. 

Jean slowly walked back into the room, his eyebrows together. His shoes clicking on the wooden ground, “What was that?” Eren could pick up on the malice, yet confusion in Jean’s voice. Something he hadn’t heard in awhile. Hell, he hadn’t heard, let alone seen any emotions come from Jean. 

You know, other than lust. 

“She’s friends with Mikasa.” Eren said, making eye contact with his best friend. “That one girl you broke a while back.” Mikasa was a sensitive subject for Jean, Eren could tell by the way his eyes softened. Only for a moment. It disappeared. 

“Is she?” He leaned on the wall, “I mean, I know she seemed familiar, but I just thought–” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, I don’t care. It’s temporary. She’s temporary.” He corrected, placing his hand on his shoulder. 

“I know.” That’s what Jean always said. “Just.. felt like you would want to know.” 

Jean nodded, giving him a sarcastic, “Thanks.” Eren nodded back. Jean quickly left after that, the door clicking behind him. 

Eren held his breath for a second, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. “Mikasa, you got to be fucking with me,” Y/n being the threat? What a joke. You were the one who should be worried in this situation. 

But, Eren couldn’t ignore the weight that lifted from his shoulder. He warned Jean, so… anything that happens is his fault. 

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

You sighed dramatically, “Mikasa, I don’t have anything sexy in my closet.” You groaned. 

“Well, where an oversized tee, with some panties.” She commented, resting her chin in her palm. “That always got him going when I was with him.” She shuttered. 

“Ugh, no.” You replied, “I have to be innocent about it, I can’t be too obvious.” Your closet was filled with clothing your mother bought you before moving. Along with things you had bought in your personal time. “What about a skirt?” 

“Sundress?” Mikasa suggested while removing one of the hair curlers from her hair. Blowing the silky strands of hair from her face. “Cute and sexy.”

You giggled, “I like the sound of that, oh!” You quickly dove for your drawers, searching around for something. “Mikasa, I swear if i can’t find this goddamn sleeping dress, I’m going to kill myself.” You were mindlessly tossing clothing from the drawer. 

“Oh! Is it that one.. Like– the lacy, silk dress you have?” Mikasa turned her attention to the camera, watching you frantically look for this article of clothing. 

“Yes! It’s a lace, satin, silk dress.” You added, letting out a ‘ah-ha!’ when you found it. You held it up to the camera, then placed it on your body. Holding it there for Mikasa to see. “Cute, right?”

She nodded her head, “Mhm! Super cute.” 

You slipped off your shirt and shorts, shimming into the natural fitting dress. Smoothing the material down your body, then looking at the camera. Fashing her a quick smile, “Shit, I can’t remember the last time I wore this?”

“You wore it with Floch.” Mikasa looked you up and down. “And, when we had a sleepover.” She grabbed her phone, bringing it to her face. Taking a screenshot on facetime, making your phone light up. 

You smiled, driving for your phone. “Eww! I look so gross!” You giggled, reaching for your laptop. Pulling up Mr. Ackerman’s classroom. When you paused for a second, looking at Mikasa. “Mika, do you?..” You bit your lip, wondering if you should ask. “Nevermind…” You didn’t want to get too invested in Jean, getting attached to him– was bad. That wasn’t how this worked. 

“No, don’t ‘nevermind’ me.” Mikasa huffed, “Tell me, what’s going on in your head, Y/n.” 

You sighed, biting the inside of your cheek. “Do you know anything personal about Jean?” Goddamn it, Y/n. So much for the getting personal bit. 

Mikasa looked at you for a moment, before softly sighing. “Well, back in highschool we were friends.” You didn’t even know he went to your highschool until Mikasa started dating him. “And, he was so kind and sweet. The sweetest boy you’d ever meet.” 

You watched as Mikasa slowly lost her beam. “Then, what?” You couldn’t help but be curious.

“That’s it, we don’t know.” 

We?

“He just changed. I don’t know why, or how? But, he did.” Mikasa sighed, “Some thought he got his heart broken, others thought a loved one died, but I just don’t know.” She bit her lip, “But, I think it has something to do with his parents.”

There was a knock at your door, making you jump. Quickly turning panicked, “Shit! I didn’t change my panties!” Mikasa giggled, ending the call. While you grabbed all your clothing, shoving it back into the drawer and changing your panties to a cute, lacy black one. 

You quickly flipped your hair back and forth, giving it volume before opening the door. Pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “Hey, sorry. Just got out of bed.” You gave him a kind smile, moving to the side and letting him come into your room. 

Jean gave you a familiar smile, “Don’t worry about it, Babe.” For some reason, the name didn’t sound too degrading. Which… worried you. “Looking pretty as ever.” 

You shut the door behind you, locking it. “Now?” You fiend, “Even when I literally just got out of bed?” You softly groaned. Now, your act is starting to begin. 

“Just got out of bed?” He turned his head to look at you, “Damn, I look like a beached whale when I get outta’ bed.” He ruffled your hair, “You look like a goddamn angel.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, pushing his shoulder. “Stop messing with me, I know you’re just saying that.” He walked in front of him, tilting your head up. Watching as his pupils dilated. 

He was such a sinful man.

“Me?” He placed his hand on your lower back, leading you into your room. “I would never lie to you, Babe.” You hated how sincere that sounded, because you knew it wasn’t. You knew it was a lie leaving his mouth. You knew he was mocking you. 

You fluttered your lashes at him, giving him a bashful smile. “Really?” You made sure to sound small. 

“Of course,” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Anything for my little tutor.” You giggled, damn, he was good. 

You pulled yourself away from him. “So, do you need help with the concept or the work?” You walked to the small table in the center of your room, taking a seat on the ground. “Or, just both?” 

Jean took a seat across from you, leaning back on his palms. “Uhm, both?” He awkwardly crossed one leg over the other. Too tall for the small table in your room. “Whichever allows me to spend more time with you.” 

You could feel your mask chip with your next question. “But, you don’t even know me?” What if I was a killer? What if I wanted to do bad things to you?

“This is why I’m getting to know you.”Jean replied, “You’re different.” 

You blinked a few times, “Am I?” He nodded. You let your fingers run over your table, “Different enough to be your friend?” You watched as he froze, tensed up so quickly you would’ve missed it if you blinked. “Different enough to know the real Jean. Not the one everyone on campus knows about?” You let your eyes study his reaction, which wasn’t the one you wanted. 

“Maybe.” He responded briefly, diverting his eyes from you. 

Perfect. 

You placed your hand over his much larger one. “Don’t worry Jean, I just want to be close enough friends where you feel safe to tell me anything.” You gave him a comforting smile, patting his hand softly. “M’kay?” 

And, that’s when you knew you caught him off guard. In a good way. His shoulders relaxed, his sly smile dropped, and his eyes softened. He gave you a sincere smile, “Whatever, you dork.” He said, pulling away from your hand. 

You just gave him another smile, standing up and reaching to your bed. You giggled, easing the tension. “Do you want me to get you a pillow or something?” You tilted your head, “Just to get you more comfortable.” You stood up on your tippy toes and leaned forward, trying to reach for one of your pillows. You could feel Jean's eyes on the back of your thighs. Which was gross, but good for your situation. 

He found comfort and attraction in you. 

“Uhm, yeah. That would be nice.” He cleared his throat for a second, biting the inside of his cheek. Catching the soft stuffed animal you threw at him. Jean looked at it, before looking at you. “You still sleep with stuffed animals?” He placed it under him. 

“Of course!” You expressed, “And, don’t let Spot hear you say that, he gets grouchy.” You pointed at the stuffed pillow he was sitting on. 

Jean laughed, “Of course, I assume he doesn't mind me sitting on him.”

“He doesn't.” You smiled at him, “He likes it, actually.” 

Jean pressed his lips together, feeling them wiggle. Trying to hold the laugh bubbling in his throat, however he couldn’t hold it back. “Shit, of course, of course. He’s probably into that.” His hand went under him, feeling the soft fur of the stuffed animal. 

You tilted your head to the side, pushing a strand of hair from your shoulder. “People sitting on his face? Who isn’t?” 

Jean’s eyebrows raised for a split second, almost like he was shocked. “Can’t disagree with that, tutor.” He flashed you a charming smile, his pupils dilating for a second. 

You scrunch your nose quietly, “Ew, you perv.” You shook your head, sitting back across from him, bringing your knees to your chest. Reaching for your computer and placing it on the table. “Okay, how about we start with the assignment due this week.” You tilted your head, “That way I can grasp what you do and don’t know.”

“Okay, sure, that works.” he reached for his laptop inside his backpack, placing it on the table. A space gray color. “Only if I get more things to sit on.”

You shook your head, smiling to yourself. “Ew, as if. I feel bad for Spot, and that’s his kink.” You let out a small giggle. 

You reached under the table for your pencil bag. Pulling out a few pens, highlighters, and pencils. Along with a notebook and your textbook. “I hate the fact that this is the only class that actually uses the textbook but,” you shrugged. 

Jean looked at his screen, “That’s why I use the online version.” Jean leaned forward, flipping the computer screen to you. Showing you his pdf. “It helps me save money.” He also downloaded it illegally but..

You blinked at him a few times, “Wait, that’s actually so smart.” More subtle praise. “And yeah, that works perfectly.” 

“I mean, I downloaded it illegally, but yeah.” He sighed, “I tried my best to avoid this class my freshman year, but it bit me in the ass.” He sighed, “That’s karma I guess.” 

“You believe in Karma?” You tilted your head at Jean. 

Jean laughed, “No, just like to humor it every now and then.” His eyes traveled up your hand, “Do you believe in karma?” 

You opened your textbook, flipping to the chapter you were reviewing. “Absolutely, I believe everyone gets what’s coming to them.” You smiled at him, “So this tutoring better work so I can get my good karma.” 

Jean laughed, “Sure, sure. Anything for you, Babe.”

A shiver went up your spine. Anything for you. Those were some sweet words on Jean’s tongue. 

You blinked a few times, collecting your thoughts together before looking at your textbook. “Okay so, this is all about the concept we’re reviewing now. Pretty much explains how to do the homework.” Which was extremely rare for this class. 

Jean looked at your textbook, then his screen. “Okay.” He started scrolling through the document. Secretly glancing at the page you had opened, trying to find where in the book you were. His eyes met yours, wanting to ask for help, but the way you were patiently waiting with a smile, it made him continue looking on his own. “Okay, it’s here, right?”

You leaned forward, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, and making sure he was in the right section. He was. Surprisingly. You gave him a kind smile, “Great, good job, Jean.” You briefly patted his hand, looking at your textbook and grabbing a highlighter. Your eyes discreetly watched him, looking for a reaction. 

A shiver. Jean liked that, he really fucking liked that. In fact he wanted more.

You smiled to yourself, good. Perfect. He reacted well to praise. An often sign of not receiving it in youth. With your parents. 

Jean bit the inside of cheeks, gripping the table. “Okay so, we just read the stuff, then do the work.” He asked, shaking his head and bringing his distant attention to you. It felt like his mind was wandering– it was. 

“Yeah, that sounds great. Just highlight what you think is important, then we’ll go over it together,” you placed your chin in your hand. “It’s as simple as that.” You gave him another smile. It was the last reward you were going to give him. It was going to be odd to see a stone face after being so accustomed to a kind smiling one. 

It wasn’t long before the two of you finished reading, pulling up the assignment. You pushed your textbook to Jean, allowing him to look at what you marked up. “I thought that this was important in general, so I just marked it up.” 

Jean just nodded, his eyes scanning over what you found important. Mentally noting that it was pretty much identical to what he highlighted. “Good, just about what I expected from my smart little tutor.” Jean looked at the first question, already knowing the long steps of progress needed to complete the question. Jesus, he didn’t want to do it. 

“I hate this class.” He groaned, his eyes wandering to you. Waiting for your response, but it never came. Just silence, your eyes glued to your computer screen, and paper. 

Which was expected, you tended to get lost in your studies in the library or in class. Something Jean observed the first few times he ‘ran’ into you conveniently. So, he gave you some space. I mean, it wasn’t like you were purposely ignoring him. 

Right? 

Soon enough Jean was just playing some random computer game. His eyes flickering back to you every now and then, checking up where you were in the assignment. It was so quite, he could practically hear the neighbors next door fucking. Actually no, that was his imagination.   Jean just didn’t like the silence, no one did. He sighed loudly, “This is so boring, and useless.” 

You didn’t respond again, just continued solving for your answer. Looking up for a second, like you were thinking, then returning back to your problem. 

Jean felt a small part of him regress. What the fuck. Now, you had to be ignoring him, but he wasn’t annoyed. In fact, it was something else. Like a stinging sensation in his chest. “Y/n?” 

You tilted your head up, looking at him. Giving him a single nod, the only form of acknowledgement. And for some reason, it made the sensation go away. Only a little bit. 

Jean felt his eyebrows mush together, not used to the cold almost distant responses you were giving him. And, his reaction. What happened to the sweet and bubbly girl that he was just talking to? Jean didn’t like this. In fact, he missed… 

“Do you like this class?” Jean asked, flashing you a charming smile. You naturally wanted to smile back, but you stopped yourself. “I mean, professor Ackerman just sucks, but..” his eyes landed on you, seeing the way you were mindlessly nodding. An almost bored expression on your face. 

He cleared his throat. 

You looked at his paper, then back to him. Seeing the way his hand came over the blank sheet. You let out a breath through your nose, “Jean, just do your work,” you looked down at your paper, “If you need help, then you can talk to me.” You flickered your eyes at him, then back to your work. Suppressing the smile building your lips. The things you do to take a picture of his expression. 

Confusion, but laced with some embarrassment. He almost looked shocked. It was a huge contrast to the usual cocky smile on his lips. God, you wished Mikasa could see this. 

Jean thickly swallowed, “I– I don’t know how to do the first one.” Did I just fucking stutter? His eyebrows came together, shifting the paper to you. 

Your eyes flickered to his, raising an eyebrow. “Have you tried to?” You pointed at his empty paper, “It looks like you haven’t even tried.” That pain returned back into his chest, but for some reason, this time it was worse. You leaned back, crawling over to him. “Here, let me watch you try.” 

Jean looked at you, then the paper. He knew how to do the fucking problem, he just wanted to talk to you. Was that pathetic? It sounded pathetic in his head. He sighed, working out the problem, quickly finishing it, and placing his pencil down. Looking at you and waiting for your reaction. 

Waiting for your approval. However, that thought stayed in his head. Hell, he didn’t even know why he was waiting for your approval.

You gave him a small smile, followed by an enthusiastic– “Good!” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

That was why. 

Then, immediately, you return to your work. Your neutral facade already taking over, “When you’re done with the worksheet, show it to me, I’ll correct what’s wrong.” You pointed your pencil at his paper, then returned it to yours. 

Jean could feel that buzz of happiness slowly disappear. Your words were so brief, the feeling was so brief, it made him crave for more. “Well– aren’t you going to check if this is wrong?” He pointed at the problem he just solved. 

“No.”

Why the fuck were you acting so–

“It seems like you already know how to do it.” You rested your cheek on your palm, looking at him. This time, you looked more interested. “Am I wrong?” Your tone stayed neutral. It sounded like you were bored. 

Bored of Jean. 

Jean could feel his heart drop at that thought. No one’s ever been bored of him. In fact, it was always the opposite. He always got bored with the person. And, for once in his life, he didn’t know whether he should lie or tell the truth. Lies were so fluid with him, but right now he couldn’t even think of one. “Yes.” 

Your eyebrows came together as you scoffed at him. Looking back at your paper, “Whatever, okay.” 

Jean stared at you for a moment, expecting you to add onto the sentence. Except, you didn’t. And, it stung. He didn’t like this feeling. Hell, he didn’t even know what he was feeling. All Jean knew was he didn’t like being told ‘whatever,’ by you. He cleared his throat, “No, is what I meant.” His tone was soft, almost embarrassed, but his face didn’t display it. 

Then, suddenly you were filled with life. Something Jean loved seeing on you. His chest fluttered with the reaction. You giggled, flashing him a big smile. “You’re so confusing, Jean.” You told him, tilting your head and sighing dreamily, “I like when you tell me the truth, makes me like you more. Makes me feel like I’m talking to the real you.” You placed your head on the table, dimples denting into your skin. “Good job, Jean.” 

Jean’s mind blanked at the praise. Giving you a smile back, as he returned to his paper. Eager to finish it. 

Now, was this manipulation? Yes. Yes it was. 

It is the most basic in the book. It could be complicated, but you always knew a way to simplify it. 

Love-bombing. 

You made sure Jean got used to the smiles and praise. Especially since he was around you so often. And, you had to make sure he enjoyed it as-well. To the point where it would be weird not to receive it from you. Which is exactly what happened. And, it got Jean to do something he wouldn’t under regular circumstances. 

Open up with the truth. 

It was simple, really. Jean missed the attention, the praise, and the smiles. So, he did something to get it back. You were conditioning him– ‘Truth, good! Lie, bad!‘

That way, when you asked him something –anything– he wouldn’t lie to you. In fear of the rejection that may follow. In fear of the reaction that may follow from you. Something you only learned from the best. 

You tilted your eyes up, looking at Jean. They met Jean’s instantly, and you felt yourself stutter, before speaking. You weren’t expecting him to already be looking at you. “Believe it or not, but my parents are the ones who bought me my textbooks.” You rolled your eyes. “Pretty embarrassing, right?”

“Really?” He asked, wanting you to continue. 

“Mhm, but it’s kinda weird since I don’t even talk to them anymore.” You placed your hand on the book, making eye contact with him. “Feels like I’m using them.” Which was a lie, you were very much still in contact with your parents. In fact, you were going to their house these weekend. 

Jean leaned forward, “You’re not.” He told you. “You don’t know what it’s like to use someone, and I promise you, it’s definitely not reading a book they bought you.” He answered truthfully. 

You smiled at him, nodding your head. “I guess that’s true, but still.” You looked up, then down, “I kinda’ feel bad.” You sighed, “I always feel bad..” 

“Don’t, parents are shitty.” He replied, “I didn’t even know my parent’s name until freshman year.” You watched as he sighed. 

“Freshman year of high school?!” That was a real shock. 

“No, college.” He chuckled. “Pretty pathetic, huh?” 

That explains so much. You shook your head, “What? Of course not!?” You bit the corner of your lip, “It’s just unfortunate, no one should feel that way. No one should be treated that way.” That way they don’t turn out like this. Like you and Jean.

You’ve heard this story with almost every guy you’ve ‘been’ with. They’re always going through something, and taking it out on the people around them. You didn’t care though. 

It explains their actions. Doesn’t justify them. 

“Well, that’s just how it is.” Jean slid his paper over to you, placing his pencil down. “And, done.” When the hell did he even do it?

You blinked at him, “Done? I’m not even done?!” You couldn’t help it, but you giggled, grabbing his paper and looking over it. “And, it’s all correct.” You looked at him, “Jesus, are you sure you really need this tutoring? It seems like I could take some tips from you if you’re this smart.” 

“You’re the smart one here, Y/n.” He cooed, “I’m just here on my knees doing anything you want.” Jean smiled at you, his teeth flashing at you. His sharp canines caught your attention. Okay, maybe he was a little attractive. 

Another shiver. Hm. You wouldn’t mind seeing that. The worst part about that statement was— he wasn’t lying. 

“I doubt it Jean,” you really did, his pride was too big. “I feel like I’m the one who would do anything for you.” You flashed him a kind smile, creeping your hand slowly to your pencil. It’s about time for a reward. You pencil tipped over the table, and you brought your legs to your chest again, sighing dramatically. “Ugh, this is why I should buy pens.”

Jean waved it off, “Naw, the ink spills in your backpack when it rains.” Dipping his head under the table, grabbing the pencil off the ground. But, his eyes wandered up. He tried to stop it from happening. 

“Really?” You cooed, smiling to yourself. Watching as the tall male visibly tensed. Looking directly in between your legs. “I feel like you’re telling me from experience.” You leaned back slightly, spreading your feet apart. Allowing him a better view of your panties. A filthy and erotic sight for anyone.

Suddenly, he couldn’t think straight. His mind clouded with thoughts of you, only you. Filthy thoughts of what he would do to you. God, he would do anything for– what the hell was he thinking? He cleared his throat, “I have a lot of experience.” He said mindlessly. 

You giggled, pulling your feet together. “That’s not a good thing, Jean.” 

Jean quickly pulled his head up, hitting the back of his head under the table. You let another giggle slip from your lips, standing up and walking to his side of the table. Cupping his face with your hand, the other one coming to the top of his head and rubbing it softly. “Are you okay, Jean? That looked like it hurt.”

He blinked a few times, his cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. “No, yeah. I’m okay, just got distracted.” Hell, he was still fucking distracted. You hand was so small and soft against his face. So comforting. 

You laughed, lifting his face up. Pressing a kiss on his forehead, “You’re so cute Jean, you remind me of cake-pops.” You pulled back, watching as his pupils dilated. 

“Cake-pops?” Jean’s tone was breathy, almost whiney. He placed the pencil on the table, watching as your hand left his face. He missed the sensation already, so comforting and sweet. Something he wasn’t himself. 

“Yup! Cake-pop.” You told him. “Jean, I adore cake-pops, so take it as a compliment.” You letured, returning to your side of the table. 

“Hm,” he hummed, looking back at the paper. “You know, for someone who doesn't like me, that’s such a weird thing to say.” 

You could feel your heart drop. But, you didn’t show it. You tilted your head to the side, eyebrows cutely coming together, “What are you talking about?” Your voice was innocent, confused, and most importantly hurt. How the hell did he come to that conclusion?

I mean, he wasn’t wrong, but he shouldn’t know that…

Not yet, at least. 

“Words and actions say different things, Babe.” He cooed, smiling at you. “Even with this whole fake facade, I can see right through you.” 

You need to think of a lie, and you needed to think of one fast. You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest. “Well, I’m sorry that I don’t want to be another one of your girlfriends or—“ you cut yourself off, “I just want to be your friend, and I thought maybe if I—“ 

“If you what?” His eyes were trained on you, he was interested. 

“If I pretended that I liked you, we could be close and just be close.” You sighed, looking down. You voice dropping down slightly, “Maybe, it was stupid..”

“Don’t you hear the shit people say about me?” He scoffed, “You’re telling me you still want to be friends?” His voice was mocking. 

Comfort but confront him, Y/n. 

“Yes, I hear about you all the time. Which, I won’t lie, made me want to stay away from you.” You bit your bottom lip, “I’ve also heard about the things you’ve said about me.” 

Jean’s eyes darkened, his jaw tensing. That fucking bitch Historia. Jean quickly fixed his expression, biting the inside of his cheek. “You have?” He didn’t want you to know about that. He wanted to keep you innocent and sweet. 

You nodded. “But, I assumed you were just saying that because you were around friends.” You made sure your voice broke, tears welling in your eyes. Making them glossy and cute. “I don’t think you mean it, right?” 

Jean stared at you, his lips parting for a second. 

Jean felt bad. Which is something he doesn’t feel at all. In fact, he’s never felt bad about something he’s said. Even when the girl was openly telling him, breaking down in front of him too. So, why did it feel like a part of him was breaking with you?

“Of course not, Honey.” He brought you into his arms, his hand coming to your hair. “I just– I just have to keep up with an image—“ Jean froze. Why the hell did he say that? Why did he admit that? “It’s weird, and complicated. Something with an old friend.” What the fuck was happening to him?! 

You looked up from his chest, giving him a smile. “Thank you for telling me that.” You mumbled, “I’m happy you’re comfortable enough to open up to me.” 

“I’m comfortable telling you anything.” Jean hated that. Why? Because it was so true. Someone he met almost a month ago, and he was willing to break apart his heart for you to look inside. He didn’t even know why. 

You snuggled into his chest. “I’m glad.” You let out a content sigh, hugging him. 

Jean hesitantly hugged you back. “Me too.” That was a lie, because— for once in his life he felt like he could open up. And, what was so bad about that? You just wanted to be friends. The only girl he wanted, just wanted to be friends. 

This has got to be karma. 

What the hell was he thinking? He was just doing this to have sex with you. 

Jesus, his mommy issues were starting to pop out. 

“How about we just rest on it.” You pulled away from him, smiling up at him. “We’ll meet up at the same time next week. You cupped his cheek, pulling him closer to your face. Smiling as you watched him nearly nuzzle into your touch, eager to have more. “M’kay?” You cooed, letting your eyes dip from his to his lips. Only to quickly return them back. 

Jean thickly swallowed, before giving you a sincere smile. “Okay.” 

You hummed approvingly. Rubbing your thumb soothingly. 

Men are so easy. 

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

Butterflies surrounded you while you walked back to your dorm from class. Well, normal people called them relationships, but you liked to make it sound pretty. Because that’s how relationships should be, beautiful. 

Despite everything that you’ve done, and everyone you’ve done, you strive to be in a relationship one day. A romantic relationship, where the male you love, loves you equally as much as you love him. 

He buys your chocolates, big stuffed bears, bigger than you! Along with huge bouquets of flowers you’ve seen only on tik tok. Cards with cute notes inside, and jewelry decorated with diamonds. The romantic stuff. 

You craved that shit. 

You were just waiting for the right guy. 

And, yeah, you know what you’ve done is bad. But, if it makes it any better, you do feel horrible when it’s over. Because, everyone has a reason behind their actions. And, you know it doesn't excuse their actions. In fact, it doesn't even excuse yours. 

But, you still feel a little guilty. Because, deep down, you secretly care about every single guy you’ve been with. Hell, a part of you cares about Jea–

Armin's laugh cut you out of your thoughts, “I can’t believe it, I’ve heard from Eren that he doesn’t even respond to him.” You adjusted your phone, keeping it pressed to your ear. “And, you’re just leaving him on delivered?” 

Oh yeah, you were on call with Armin. Currently talking about how often Jean texted you. In fact, he was texting you right now. You just didn’t have the energy to respond. 

And sure, you were used to the bombardment of texts from each boy you got with. And, you always tried your best to respond quickly and thoughtfully. 

At first. It was simple, talk to them the first few days, then just ghost them. Then, come back like nothing happened. People crave for things they can’t have. So..

You placed your phone into your back pocket, grabbed your AirPods. “I mean, it’s not forever. It’s a temporary thing.” You blew a bubble with your pink gum, “Just until he gets attached to me.” Or confesses he likes me, one of the two. 

Armin laughed, “Okay, okay. Whatever you say.” There was movement on the other line, “Wait, hold up. I’m like five minutes from the dorm.” 

You laughed, “Okay, damn. Didn’t know you hated talking to me that much.” Armin was frantically about to explain himself, but you ended the call. Giggling. 

“I swear he’s such a sweetheart—“ 

“I’m so sorry!” 

There’s no way that just happened. 

You could feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment. Sure, you’ve bumped into people, but you’ve never bumped into them so hard you fell to the ground. “No, it’s– it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” 

His hand came to yours, pulling you off the ground quickly. Almost like you were a grape, maybe even a feather. “I didn’t see you, shit.” He laughed, his hand coming to his blonde hair. “Sorry, you’re just way smaller than me.” 

You felt your eye twitch with annoyance, “Gee-thanks.” 

He laughed again, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.” 

You tossed a chunk of hair over your shoulder, eyeing him up and down. A football jersey and the number 12 catching your attention. Hm. Number 12, Colt Grice, offensive, football player. Why were so many football players popping into your life? “I don’t think I threw it.” 

Colt tilted his head to the side, cocking an eyebrow. A playful smile on his lips, “I think you should, promise I’ll be able to catch it.” 

Maybe, you didn’t need to wait any longer. You already liked this guy. Corny? Sure. But, in a cute, quirky way. You laughed, holding your hand over your lips. “Jesus, you’re so corny. Does that work with all the girls?” You placed your hands behind your back, admiring the man in front of you. 

“I don’t know,” he sucked in air through his teeth, “I think you should be the one telling me that.” Colt leaned down slightly, “Did it work?” His eyes flickered to the purity ring on your thumb, before looking back at you. Wait a minute.. Purity ring? Why did that sound familiar? 

You giggled, nodding your head. Covering your hand slightly, shit, forgot that was on.  “I’m Y/n.” You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, smiling at him. 

Nope, Colt was throwing that shit back at you. You watched as he turned white. Tensing up like a goat who just got jump scared. And, like God had sent one of his angels, a friend slung an arm over Colt’s neck. Eyeing you up and down for a good second, before looking at Colt. He looked familiar… “Shit man, you know that’s Jean’s girl you’re talking to, right?”  

His voice sounded even closer to home. It hit you like a truck, Porco. 

His words sunk into your head, and you felt your eyebrows mush together. Your hand resting on the strap of your bag and holding onto it, your knuckles turning white. “I’m sorry, what?” Why the fuck was he calling you Jean’s girl? You two weren’t dating. Shit, the two of you weren’t even fucking. 

“Jean’s girl,” Porco said with a smile, a hand combing through his slick back hair. “What? First time hearin’ the nickname? It said all around the school.” 

Nickname? “I’m afraid so, I’ve never heard someone call me that.” You forced a smile, looking at Colt. Please don’t believe the bullshit this guy’s saying. “I have no clue what he’s talking about.” You really didn’t. 

“White gold purity ring on your thumb, short, and tutors Jean.” Porco smiled at you knowingly, clicking his tongue. “You know exactly who you are.” 

I do know exactly who I am. You shook your head, discarding that thought. 

“And, you’re fucking Jean while trying to get with the whole football team.” Porco loudly laughed, a mocking smile displaying to you. “See, told you Jean was right, and you didn’t want to believe me.” 

You wanted to ask— what? But, you knew you wouldn’t like the answer. In fact, you already knew the goddamn answer. Colt looked at you then his friend, a smile building on his lips. “Damn, you really are a slut.” He leaned his head back for a second, “And, I thought Jean was just being extra when he told us about you.” 

You could feel your heart shatter. “I’m not even—“ you looked away, “I’m just his friend.” 

Porco leaned towards Colt, lifting his hand to his ear. Whispering something, “Who’s begging to suck his horse-cock.” 

You slapped him. You slapped him so fucking hard, your hand burned. 

His face was to the side, a red hand mark burning into his skin. His eyes welling with tears from the stinging pain. “What the fuck is your problem?!—“

“Begging? I’ve never— and will never beg for any man.” You shook your hand, trying to cool the feeling down. Before, reaching for your phone, and pulling up your messages. “Sorry, I think the only person begging is—“ You turned your screen to both of them, giving a sweet smile. “You.” You innocently blinked a few times, “You are 1234, right?” You smiled at him, “Or, is that another guy named Porco on the football team, begging me to sit on his face?” 

When you gave Porco your phone number so long ago, you thought he wasn’t going to text you. So, imagine your surprise when you were in the library with Historia and Armin, and saw a text from an unknown number. It didn’t take long for you to connect the dots on who the mystery man was. Colt looked at Porco, snickering. While he glared at you, almost like he was in shock. Before, muttering a soft— “Bitch.” 

You smiled, “I know.” You brought the screen to your face, scrolling up. “I know you’re with Jean, but I still really want to get to know you.” You scrolled a little farther up, “I know I shouldn’t be asking you this. Since you’re Jean’s girl, but, I seriously can’t get you out of my head. Please, let’s fuck. Just once.” You smiled, turning your phone off. Sliding it into your pocket, and tilting your head to the side cutely. Porco’s jaw dropped, while Colt just blinked in shock. “Now, tell me everything Jean has been saying.” You smiled, “Before, I show him what the fuck you’ve been sending me.” 

Colt looked at Porco, then you. “I thought you said you two weren’t dating.” 

“We aren’t.” You replied instantly, “But, Jean obviously cares about me. Enough to lie about shit, to get people off my back.” You looked at Porco, “Enough to tell you to stay away from me.” You let your eyes drift to the side. “So, go spill.” 

Colt thickly swallowed, while Porco pressed his lips together. He was the one to speak first, “He always tells us you’re just another girl obsessed with him.” His hand went to his hair,  “I can…” he lightly groaned, not wanting to say it aloud. “..I can text you about it.” He almost whispers. 

You smiled at him, “Thank you, Babe.” You turned on your heel, giving them a final wave before walking away. Turning the corner and letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Pressing your back to the wall, along with your hands.

Porco turned to Colt, “She’s such a bitch, no wonder Jean’s so obsessed with her.” He laughed, “She’s just the female version of him.” 

You stayed at the corner, listening as they walked away, before making a way of your own. You could feel your mind running, your hands shaking, and your heart pounding. You didn’t know if you were pissed. Oh no, wait, you were. But, you were equally as hurt. Maybe, it was karma. 

“Y/n!” 

You turned over your shoulder, seeing Armin. Your chest fluttered, instantly you hugged him. Sighing out, shutting your eyes, your throat burning. Constricting, even. “Uhm, are you okay?” Armin placed a hand in your air, his other arm wrapping around you. 

“I’m so fucking pissed right now, Armin. You don’t even know.” You mumbled into his shirt, before tilting it up. His eyes widened at you, shocked to see the tears pearling in your eyes. Falling down your cheeks, “I should’ve beat his ass the moment I saw him, rather than do this stupid shit. That way I wouldn’t be considered a total slut who begs for his dick.” 

Jean’s girl. That title burned into your head. It burned itself above your head, a title for all to read. That’s who you are. Jean’s girl. Some untouchable trophy nobody could touch, but Jean. And, he would kill anyone who tried. That’s why, no one was going to try. Colt being a prime example of it. Now that you were Jean’s girl, no one was going to touch you. Because, everyone was scared of him. Scared of Jean. So much for waiting for the right guy. 

An idea popped into your head. Unless…

Armin’s eyes softened, “I’ve been hearing about that..” you could tell a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, looks like this has been going around for awhile. “Jean’s just like that with everyone. I promise, once this is over, everyone will forget about it.” 

“Unless, everyone is distracted by something else.” You pulled away from Armin, wiping your tears. Which felt so embarrassing to do. You hated crying, it felt like you let the person get to you. “I think I have an idea.” 

Armin wiped a tear from your cheek, cupping your face. “Think it over, Y/n. Before you do something crazy.” He smiled, “Besides, haven’t you done enough already? He’s obviously smitten with you, just ghost him.” 

“No.” You sighed, pulling away from him and grabbing your phone. “I haven’t done what I wanted to.” You looked for Jean’s number. 

Armin thickly swallowed, nervous to what you wanted to do. But, he asked anyway, “What do you want to do?” 

You pulled up your phone, calling Jean. “Record him begging me to fuck him.” You smiled, “Show people who the real whore is.” Then, Jean picked up. “Hey, Babe. What’s up?” 

‘Hey BabE, wHat’S uP?’ Shut the fuck up, you thought. “Meet me at the Starbucks, before I fucking kill you.” You ended the call. There goes your innocent, cute, sweet, cursing it bad!– persona. But, maybe your anger was justified. No, fuck that. Your anger is justified. 

Armin blinked at you, almost in shock. “Wait, aren’t you scared this is going to throw Jean off?” He clicked his tongue a few times, “From like your whole innocent persona?” 

You shook your head, “Anyone would be pissed to hear you’ve called them a slut.” You smiled, flashing him your ring. “Even the purest of people.” You were going to fucking kill him. 

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

You stood impatiently in front of the Starbucks you worked at. You had given Armin your keys and backpack, rushing over to your job. Agreeing to meet Armin in your dorm after you killed Jean. Tapping your foot impatiently. Glancing at the time on your phone. 

3:50.

You sighed, sitting at one of the tables outside. Waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting. You waited for a goddamn hour in the freezing cold. 

You loudly groaned, standing up from your seat, and shoving it back into the table. Struggling for a moment, because the chair refused to move. You shut your eyes, trying to silently compose yourself. You were so done with this son of a bitch. You weren’t even mad or sad, just done. You didn’t even want to continue with the shitty plan, you didn’t even want to see Jean ever again. In fact, the next time you saw him, you were going to end—

“I’m so sorry I’m late, I was trying to find your favorite color.” 

You could feel everything rush out of your head. Fuck no, I’m still pissed as hell. You opened your eyes, only to audible gasp. You pupils landed on a huge bouquet of pink flowers, decorated with white and red. A closed letter in the middle.

Like.. the tik tok ones… Behind it, a smiling Jean. A black turtleneck, and silver chain decorating his neck. Hair slicked back with his sunglasses on the crown of his head. Gray jeans, with some black converse, his fingers decorated with black gloves and a single gold ring. Finally, a jacket that pulled his outfit together. He was holding onto a bigger pink stuffed bear. Jesus, it’s bigger than you. Jean saw you looking at it and brought it close, “I also got a friend for Spot.” 

You blinked a few times, in shock. Your lips parted, “I—” You composed yourself, “I thought you didn’t buy your girlfriend's things.” You said without thought. Your eyebrows coming together in slight confusion and anger.

Jean smiled, his dimples denting into his cheeks. “You’re not my girlfriend, you’re my tutor.” The scent of sweet flowers flooded your senses. It almost made you dizzy. 

“Historia is.” You immediately shot back, distracting yourself. You didn’t like the way he addressed you. Actually, had he ever called you by your name?

Jean bit the inside of his cheek, you looked hot pissed. “Not anymore.” He placed the bear in your hands, suppressing a laugh as he watched you stutter backwards, not expecting the weight. “I broke up with her.” He wasn’t going to tell you that he just broke up with her over text right before he came to meet you. 

“So, if I called her right now, she would tell me she’s single.” You accused, pressing your face into the stuffed animal. Cake-pops. It smelled like cake-pops. A shiver shot down your spine. 

Your heart fluttered… You pressed your lips together, trying to suppress the heartfelt smile building on your lips. You loved things like this. You peered at him from behind the fluffy bear. Jesus, Jean loved your eyes. So shiny and deep, he didn’t like seeing them so mean. 

“Yes.” He watched as your eyes softened, your body melting into the bear. It made his heart flutter, “Remember, I’d do anything for you.” Jean lifted the bouquet, “Even if it’s a shitty bear.” He just wants to see you smile. 

“So, you know what this is about then.” You glared at him, holding onto the stuffed bear tighter. Trying to remain composed. 

Jean closed his eyes then sighed, running a free hand through his hair. “Yes.” Unfortunately. When you get with a lot of women, you tend to pick up on things they get mad about. 

“Then, stop saying shit about me.” You looked back to the flowers and reached your hand out, grabbing the letter caught in between them. A white envelope. You opened it up, and looked at the beautiful gold cursive. You looked at him before reading what was inside. Jean didn’t say anything, just watched you. 

Sometimes, actions spoke louder than words. ‘To the girl who makes me want to buy her shit, I’m sorry. I can’t buy enough to represent how much I am, but maybe this helps. X’  

You glanced at the bottom, seeing a Starbucks gift card. Right above it, ‘Buy as many cake-pops as you want. I’d do anything to see you smile.’ You blinked a few times, your heart fluttering. Face burning. “You’re such an asshole.” You mumbled, holding the letter close to your chest. How’d you know my one weakness? “I hate you.” 

Jean smiled at you, “I’m sorry.” 

You shook your head, “No, you’re not.” 

“I'm so fucking sorry, Y/n.” Jean pushed a strand of hair from your face, cupping your cheek and tilting your head up to look at him. His thumb rubbed soothing circles, “I promise to never say anything about you again.” He got closer, whispering– “Promise.” 

You shook your head again, “You’re lying.” 

“I’m not. I can’t lie to you.” His eyes softened, his lips parted for a moment, almost like he was unsure what to say. Or, if he should say it at all. “If you want me to break my heart apart for you to look inside. I would do it without a thought.” You nuzzled into his hand, finding it comforting. What would Mikasa think if she saw you? 

Your eyes sharpened, your nose twitching. “I fucking hate you.” You tore your face from his hand, stuffing it into the bear. Inhaling the scent of cake, and strawberry. You loved that favor. He’s so perfect. You hated how this was so perfect.

Jean kept his smile, walking closer to you. Wrapping his arms around your body, pushing the stupidly big bear out of the way. “You know you love me.” He cooed.

“I hate you.” You mumbled into his shirt, tears pearling in your eyes. “I fucking hate you.” I hate how you know what to say. I hate that you know what to do. You wrapped your free arm around him, melting into his warm body. You sniffed, “I hate you so much.” Your voice cracked. So warm.

Jean dropped his head, trying to rest it on yours. He sighed in defeat, “I hate you too.” 

You shook your head, “No you don’t.” You didn’t want to hear that, you didn’t want to hear anymore lies. You were so done. 

“I know.” Jean whispered, titling his head back. “I could never hate you.” He hated how he couldn’t lie to you. He hated how he couldn’t say no to you. He hated seeing you cry. He hated how he couldn’t hate you. “Let me walk you back to your dorm.”

It was silent. “Okay.” 

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

You remember the weird looks you got back in elementary. But, that was nothing compared to the ones you were getting right now in college. A huge bear in your arms, bigger than you, and Jean holding a massive bouquet of flowers beside you. 

This was worse than elementary. When you met your door, you didn’t want to face Jean. You just wanted to go inside, you just wanted to see Armin. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, you’re not.” You sighed, “Just, stop.” You told him, turning on your heel and facing him. “Just leave and–” 

“Don’t do this,” Jean had some desperation in his tone.

You pressed your lips together, unsure of what to say. “Don’t do what? Tell you to leave?” You placed one foot behind the other. “I’m not doing anything, you’re just acting weird.” Now, it was your turn to lie. 

Jean could feel his heart drop. That hurt way more to be told, then say. “C’mon Y/n. We can be something– amazing. I can be good to you, I can– I will be good to you.” He was nodding his head, his lips giving you a shaky smile. 

And suddenly, you had three boys in-front of you. All saying the same thing, at the exact same time. Just another repeat of the cycle. 

“This is the first time I’ve ever felt like this, I can’t–” Floch sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t lose this. I can’t lose you. Please, don’t– don’t leave me.” His hands were shaking by his side. Aching to hug you. 

“We’ve just met,” you argued. Looking away and pushing a strand of hair from your face. “I promise, what you’re feeling is temporary. You’re temporary.” You looked back at him. “The moment you feel even a slight shift in your feelings, you’ll be gone.” They’ve all done it before. Mikasa, Sasha, and Historia. 

“No, no– that’s not– we can work this out. Trust me.” Niccolo’s hand came to your shoulder, then moved up to your cheek. So soft and comforting, “Let’s try again.” He nodded his head, giving you a kind smile. “Let’s try again, please.” 

“There’s nothing to ‘try again,’ we were never a thing.” You closed your eyes, your hands grabbing onto the bear tighter. Which was something new to the cycle. “I just wanted to be your friend, and be there for you. You pushed that boundary, and now..” you looked down, “..I don’t even want to be friends.” 

Jean closed his eyes, “Don’t tell me that, Y/n. We– I–” 

You closed your eyes, you didn’t want to hear him say it. You hated this part. “Well, let’s just fuck once. Then, I promise to never bother you again.” They wrapped their arms around you, their arms shaking. “Just onc–” 

“Fine… Just try to think about it.” Jean placed his hand on your shoulder. Making the cycle in your head snap. Suddenly, it was just Jean standing in front of you. “Think about it for the rest of the semester if you have to.” His other hand went to your shoulder, “I’ll wait. I wait for however long you need me to.” 

Your eyes went wide, your breath caught in your throat. That was new. “I doubt that.” You didn’t know if you were lying. 

“I’ll prove it to you.” He replied immediately, “I’ll do anything for you.”

You held your breath, “Then, don’t say shit about me anymore. I don’t want to hear about ‘Jean's girl’ shit.” You let it go. 

Jean’s hands tightened around you, “Done. Fucking done.” 

“And, I don’t want to hear you talking, let alone fucking another girl.” You glared at him. Taking your free hand and placing it on his, tearing it away from your shoulder. 

Jean's lips twitched before he spoke, “Okay.” He nodded, “I can do that.” 

He hesitated. “Okay, well.. I–” you took a deep breath, feeling his fingers push a strand of hair behind your ear. “I trust you.” You want to trust him. Hell, the little girl inside of you aching for love, is telling you to trust him. You know not to trust her. 

Jean nodded, “Thank you,” he smiled softly, “Thank you.” It was so breathy and desperate, a shaky smile on his lips. His eyes were glassy and blown. 

You felt a shiver go down your spine. Strike, Y/n. Look how pretty he looks desperate. You grabbed the massive flowers from his hands, and twisted your door knob open. Thank god Armin left the door unlocked. “Bye, Jean.” You looked back at your door, making sure not to bump into your door frame. “I’ll see you next week for tutoring.” 

Jean smiled adoringly at you, nodding his head. “Okay, yeah. Can’t wait…” 

“Y/n, is that you?” Shit. Armin. Armin peeked around the corner, smiling at you. “And, guess what..” Armin’s eyes landed on Jean, and Jean’s eyes landed on Armin. You watched as Jean completely changed his expression. Armin soon followed suit. “You invited Jean over?” You could hear the coldness in his voice, such a contrast from his last sentence. 

You lifted your hand to Armin, “No, he–he’s leaving.” You looked at Jean, seeing the way he was glaring at your best friend. “You’re leaving.”

“Who the fuck is tha–” 

“If you ask me a stupid question don’t even bother trying to text me.” You asserted, “You’re doing so good, don’t mess it up, because your pride is getting to you.” 

It was silent as Jean continued to look at Armin, a thousand thoughts going through his head. His hands tensed by his side, before relaxing. Jean glanced at you, his eyes softening as he sighed. Almost in defeat, “Fine. I’ll see you later.”

You smiled at him, “Good job,” You stood on your tippy toes and kissed his cheek gently. “I see you.” You loved the way he melted into your touch before shutting the door behind you. Handing the flowers to Armin. 

His eyebrows shot up, “He bought you this?” Armin walked into the room, placing them on your bed. Grabbing the note in between the flowers to read it. “Wow.” 

You nodded, “Yup. He even bought me a friend for Spot.” You lifted the massive pink bear. 

Armin’s eyebrows came together, “He knows about Spot?!”

You nodded, “Yeah, he used him as a pillow.” You sighed, placing the stuffed bear on the ground. Then, sitting on top of it. “I still can’t believe he bought me these things.” 

Armin sat next to you, melting into the stuffed bear. “Me neither.” He laughed, “And, here I thought he didn’t like buying people stuff.” He doesn't even spare Eren a dollar for lunch. 

“Me neither.” You whispered. 

“What were you two talking about?” Armin turned his face to you. 

You looked down at the ground, “He apologized.” You sat down, “He apologized.” He said he would do anything for me. You didn’t believe him…

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

Eren swiped his tongue over his lips, “I can’t believe you apologized.” He tilted his head to the side, “So unlike you.” Eren smiled to himself, “Don’t tell me you’re pussy whipped.”

Jean rolled his eyes, “I didn’t think I was, it just kinda slipped out.” Which was the truth, not the full truth. But, ultimately the truth. 

Jean apologized, because he genuinely felt bad, and he seriously didn’t want to mess up the situation between you two. He really liked you. Which was a weird thing to come to terms with in his head. 

Jean leaned his head back, placing his hand on his neck. “I mean, it’s easy. Just buy her random things, and she’ll be the one apologizing by the end of the night. I didn’t want to deal with a girl’s emotion.” 

Why was Jean saying this? It wasn't true, and it wasn’t even gratifying. At least with lying about… you. Jean got something out of it,

“Oh shit, don’t look now.” Eren laughed into his drink, “But, your girl is totally all over another boy.”

Jean’s head snapped in the direction Eren was looking. Already scowling, before seeing what was happening. 

It was you. Along with another boy, sitting close to you. 

Jean could feel the anger, and jealousy bubbling in his body. Fuck apologizes. Jean needed to get this boy far away from you. He wanted you for himself. 

Possessive, maybe? But, Jean truely didn’t give a fuck. He just wants you for himself.

Armin laughed, popping a fry into his mouth. “I swear, Hange is so weird.” 

“Right?!” You stood up, and an odd shiver went down your spine. You briefly looked around, was someone looking at you? “I thought she was a stripper in her past life from the way she was moving those hips.” You pushed his shoulder playfully. 

Armin burst out laughing, grabbing your hand and pulling you close to him. “Go get your lunch, dumbass.” He gently pushed you away.

You giggled, and stayed in your spot. Close to Armin. “I think I'm gonna get Panda Express.” You finally took a step back, looking at the food court. Pushing a strand of your hair from your face. 

Armin rolled his eyes, grabbing another fry and twisting it around in ketchup. “Of course you do.” He popped it into his mouth, raising his eyebrows at you.

You flipped him off, reaching in your hoodie pocket and pulling out your wallet. Leaving your backpack, but grabbing your phone. You opened your wallet, and silently counted your money. The Starbucks card Jean bought you, hiding in one of the pockets. You smiled to yourself. 

Wait.. did you just smile to yourself thinking of Jean?..

Ugh. Gross. 

You rolled your eyes and walked to the Starbucks you worked at. Quickly picking up three pink cake-pops. Two for you, and one for Armin. Then finally searching for the Panda Express in the food court. Eating one on your adventure. 

When you felt your phone ring. You reached for it, seeing the person calling you was Armin. You raised an eyebrow, but swiped your finger over the screen. Answering the call, and pressing the device to your ear. 

You got in the line for your food, looking at the menu. “Hey, Babe, what’s wrong?” You stayed quiet, expecting him to respond, but he didn’t. In-fact, it didn’t even sound like he called you on purpose. A butt-dial, maybe?...

“Yeah, I’m good Jean, thank you for asking.” 

You paused, no–you froze. Jean?

You grabbed your headphones, placing one of the buds in your ears and looking at your notifications. ‘4 texts from Armin.’

Pretty girl Armeen. 

Guess who’s walking around? Just a heads up. 

Wait, he’s sitting with me.  

Oh shit, Y/n, don’t come back

Call me right now. 

So, he was purposefully calling you. This wasn’t a butt-dial. You pressed the other earbud in your ear, turning on noise-cancellation, and raising up the volume. Trying your best to listen to the conversation.

“Class has been stressful, waiting for the year to be over.” Armin added a comforting laugh, trying to ease the tension you had to assume was forming. “But, isn’t everyone–” 

“You friends with, Y/n?” Jean’s voice cut through Armin’s, you could feel your eyebrows furry. 

Armin nodded, the sound translated from his headphones. “Bestfriends. We’ve known each other since highschool.” He swallowed nervously, “Why?” 

Jean didn’t say anything for a moment, and you could feel your breath still. In-fact, you stilled entirely, too scared to move. Almost scared to hear Jean’s response, actually– you were scared of Jean’s answer. He promised, you reassured yourself. 

“Oh.” 

You hated how tense his response was. 

“Oh?” Armin mimicked, “Is that bad?” 

“No.” Jean responded. 

You pulled out of line, finding yourself too engaged in the conversation to really pay attention to your surroundings. 

Armin laughed, “Okay, well–” 

“You don’t think of doing anything with her, right?” Jean asked, cutting Armin off. “I mean, that’s weird. You see her as a friend anyways.” His laugh cut through your body, making you frown.  

Armin didn’t say anything, which also worried you. Which led you to make your way back to the table. Still listening. 

Jean tilted his head at Armin, “Oh. Oh.” He laughed, “You do, fuck you little bastard. Playing the waiting game, right?” You could now see them. Jean was standing next to Armin, hands placed on the table. While Armin was still sitting down, tilting his head up to look at Jean. You kept your distance. 

Armin shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “The waiting game? I don’t–” 

“It’ll never happen,” Jean said, face stone cold. Eyes looking down on Armin, while his chin stayed high. Quite literally looking down on him. “Girls never go for their best-friends, they just go to you, and cry about the shitty boy they're dating.” Jean shrugged, “They cry about men like me using them, then leaving them like shit.” 

Armin was now visible glaring at Jean. Almost a silent way of saying, don’t do it. 

Jean did care. “Just like what I’m going to do to Y/n.” He laughed, “So, I guess you are somewhat useful.” You were now approaching the table.

Armin stood up, looking directly at Jean. “Don’t pull this shit, Jean–” 

“Or what?” Jean mocked, “You’ll tell Y/n?” Jean laughed, “I’m so scared.” He cried, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Armin pressed his lips together, thickly swallowing. He couldn’t force another word out. 

Jean smiled, dimples denting into his skin. “No, no, please–go ahead. I just buy her more shit since it’s so easy to win her over. I’ll promise to never do it again.” He scowled at him, “I’ll tell her all the shit she wants to hear just to get her on her knees, and sucking my dic–” 

“Is it really that easy?” You voice cut through Jean’s like a sharp knife, “Man, if it was really that easy, I’d probably be fucking the entire school.” You scowled, “But, it’s not, is it?” 

Jean’s back was to you, visibly tense. 

“Or what?” Armin mimicked Jean, finally answering his question. He raised his phone, while you did the same. Keeping the screens side by side. “I’ll have you tell her everything yourself.” 

You looked at Armin, and flashed him a kind smile. Whispering– “Thank you.” You turned, and tilted your head at Jean. 

Jean thickly swallowed, face gone white. He could feel his blood run cold, “Y/n, I– let me explain.” He tried rushing, turning his body to face you. 

“No.” You seethed. 

You took a deep breath, glancing at Armin for a second. Before collecting yourself.  

Letting your anger leave your body. 

You smiled, pressing your finger against Jean’s chest. To Jean, it felt like a knife piercing his body. “I’ll do all the explaining.” You drawled out, grabbing all your things, “Let’s get your tutoring session over with.” 

Jean’s eyebrows came together, utterly confused. He was expecting at least a slap, but it seems as if you were never angry. “Tutoring?” He questioned. 

You turned your head over your shoulder, smiling at him sweetly. “Of course!” You faked, “I’m going to teach you something your mother obviously didn’t.” You clasped your hands behind your back, making your way back to your dorm. Expecting him to follow. 

He was.

Jean glared at you, offended by your words. He hated when people brought families into arguments. “And, what’s that?” He pressed. 

You turned your head over your shoulder, batting your lashes at him. “Self-Respect.” 

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

You threw your backpack on your bed, watching Jean walk into your room, and shutting the door behind him. Locking it for good measure.  

“Sit.” You pointed at your bed, grabbing your phone. 

“I’m not sitting.” 

You sighed, always so disobedient. “Suit yourself.” You grabbed a drink from your mini-fridge, clicking it open and taking a sip. Placing the cake-pops on your coffee table. “Are you tense?” Your eyes moved over his shoulders. Seeing as they were close to his head. 

Jean rolled them out, trying to relax. “No, just nervous.” Why did he say that? “I don’t know why you brought me here.” He tried correcting, but it only filled what he didn’t want to be. Honest. 

You looked at him over the drink, blinking once. “Are you always this honest?” 

“No.” Jean needs to shut the fuck up. Jesus.

You giggled, pressing the drink to your lips. Trying to hide your smile. “Cute. That’s good to know.” You raised the drink to Jean, “Want some?” You passed him a gentle smile, one that made his body curl. 

Why were you being so nice? After what you just heard, after what you just said. Weren’t you going to kill him? Teach him– self respect, as you just said not too long ago. Maybe, you were going to poison him with your drink. 

Jean pressed his lips together and nodded, almost afraid to say no. 

You gestured for him to get closer, something he did slowly. Walking around your small coffee table and extending his hand. You turned your drink away, shaking your head. “Nu-uh.” You hummed, taking a step back and leaning on your absurdly tall bed. 

Jean’s eyes moved over your body, watching as you removed your sweater. Revealing the tight crop-top you were wearing underneath. You smiled sweetly as Jean, tilting your head to the side innocently. Placing your hand on his arm, and pulling him closer to you. 

Pushing him to the ground. Jean’s lips parted, about to speak when you spoke first. “Kneel.” You pushed the drink to your lips again, your lipgloss staining the cans opening. “I wanna do it for you.” 

Jean thickly swallowed, his mind racing. Your hands are burning him. His right knee hit the ground, then his left one. His hands pressing against your bedding, caging you between them. You just sweetly smiled, moving your free hand under his chin. Running your thumb over his bottom lip, pulling it down lightly. Then, bringing your soda to his lips. Lifting it, and watching his Adam's apple bob, drinking the cool liquid. 

You just hummed, watching as his long lashes fluttered shut. You just pushed his bangs out of his face, running your fingers through his soft hair. You finally understood the hype, Jean was so pretty. You pulled the drink back, placing the empty can on your bed. 

“It’s good, right?” You asked, bringing both your hands to his face. Holding it while the other played with his hair. “It’s my favorite drink.” 

Jean just leaned into your hand, nodding his head. “Yeah, but I don’t like how sweet it is.” He mumbled. 

“That’s exactly what I love about it.” You laughed, eyes skimming over his body. He was finally around your size, you didn’t need to crane your head to look at him. It was a nice change. “You look so cute.” You cooed. 

You could see Jean’s eyes dilate, his hand going to your legs. Holding onto them. “Don’t say that, it’s weird.” He retaliated. 

“You’re the one making it weird.” 

Jean leaned into you, his head resting on your stomach. “I hate this.” You continued to run your hand through his hair, encouraging him to continue. “Why are you doing this? What are you doing, what’s your goal?” 

Revenge. 

You blinked a few times, letting out a soft sigh. “What’s your goal when you get with a girl?” 

Jean tilted his head up, looking at you. “You know what my goal is, everyone does.” He sighed, a guilt crawling up his spine. “I’m not subtle about it.” Use them.

You let go of his hair, hands moving to his glasses, and removing them. Letting you look into his eyes, “So, you’re admitting the rumors are true?” You folded the glasses, placing them on your bed. 

“Yes.” Jean’s eyes closed, “Some of them are.” 

You tried to conceal your scowl, “Gross.” You mumbled, “You’re a real dick then.” 

Jean nodded his head, “Yeah, I know.” Jean knew he was a bad person. He’s heard it too many times around the campus, from women and men. It was so easy to be a bad person, so he didn’t know why he was trying to be a good one for you. 

Jean didn’t know why he was being so truthful with you. Was he trying to be a better person? Or, was he just trying to get with you, just like every other woman he’s spoken to. He didn’t know. 

Maybe, that’s why Jean was being so open with you. He just wanted to be a better person, and maybe he could start with you. Maybe, he was desperate to start with you. 

Someone Jean wanted to be with. Not someone who made him feel euphoric. He wanted the pain and the pleasure, the vulnerability and security.

“I can’t help it, that’s always how things turn out.” He mumbled into your stomach, a tickling sensation running through you. “I don’t ask for each girl to fall in love with me, I just want someone to want me.” But, when that happens, people get clingy and want commitment. Something that Jean doesn't want. 

You blinked a few times, before looking out your window. Mind drifting to Mikasa, a guilt shooting through your body. “I doubt things always turn out like that.” You responded, “I believe karma exists.” 

“I do too.” 

You looked back at Jean, watching as his arms moved around your torso. Holding onto you, closer than he’s ever held anyone. He could hear the smooth rhythm of your heartbeat. “Are you going to be my Karma.” 

“Do you love me?” You softly asked, fixing his hair. Your eyes are softer than anyone whose ever looked at him before.

“I don’t think so.” Jean blinked, and you could feel his long lashes on your stomach. His hands running up and down your back. 

You couldn’t help, but giggle, “Then, no. I don’t think so.” You blinked a few times, “I don’t think I’ll be the one to break your heart.” But, you’ll definitely play a part in it.

“I don’t break girls' hearts.” 

“You broke Mikasa’s.” You didn’t even think, it just slipped out. 

Fuck.

You could feel Jean still underneath your touch. “Mikasa?” He slowly said, “I don’t feel bad about her, at all.” Jean didn’t want to talk about Mikasa. That was a hard subject for him. 

You could feel the anger pulling through you again. He didn’t feel bad about tearing your friend apart? “You’re horrible.” You whispered, “Do you not know how badly you affect people?” You remained composed, this wasn’t going to work if you lost your temper.  

“Yes.” Jean responded, “I just don’t pity her.” He pulled back, hands slipping away from your body. Then, sitting on his heels. Hands still on your legs, moving up and down soothingly. Well, it was supposed to be soothing. 

And, who would’ve thought? Here you were about to forgive him. Now, you were going to continue on with what’s been brewing in your mind. You reached for your back pocket, grabbing your phone. “Should I ask why?” 

Jean shook his head, but answered anyway. “We had different plans after highschool, and it wasn’t going to work out.” His head went back to you, his head resting against your thigh. “But, she didn’t want to end things.” His voice was oddly soft. 

You didn’t say anything. Placing your hands on your bed, and sighing. You could feel your phone buzz underneath your hand. Unsure of your emotions. Your hatred for Jean spiraled off Mikasa. And now, you finally had his side to the story. 

Things needed to end, but she didn’t want it to. So, Jean had to find a way to make Mikasa end things.

No, don’t. This doesn't excuse the things he did in college. He still hurt a lot of people. See it through, Y/n. 

Jean closed his eyes, enjoying your warmth. It had been so long since hugging someone felt so– comforting. “You’re Mikasa’s best friend.” You couldn’t help but feel a little shocked, however you just nodded. “That’s why you looked so familiar.” 

You brought your phone to your face, looking through your photo gallery. “Maybe, I don’t remember you if we’ve met.” Your voice was oddly toneless. Jean hated when you spoke like that. 

 You found the video you were looking for, and left it on the screen, then turned off your phone. “You know, Annie moved.” You voiced, trying to kick off your shoes. “Any clue to why?” 

Jean’s expression didn’t change, he just moved back. Sitting on his heels. Eyes moving to your feet, watching as you struggled to get your shoe off. “No.” He grabbed your ankle, lifting it up and untying your shoelace.

You thickly swallowed, your heart racing by the small action. “You lied.” You whispered, “Everyone on this campus knows about Annie Leonhart. ”  

Jean pulled your shoe off, placing it gently on the ground. “I’ve heard about her, but I don’t know why she moved.” He looked at you again.

“Don’t,” you lifted your other foot, gesturing for Jean to also take it off. “You know exactly why she moved.” Jean’s hand moved over your other foot, hands pulling at the shoelace. 

“Because her sex video got leaked,” Jean responded, pulling off the last shoe. “That sucks, I don’t blame her.” He placed the shoe on the ground, the sound clicked through the room. “I would’ve done the same thing.” 

You lifted your phone to your face, opening it and playing the video. Eyes skimming over the tan, porcine skin. You flipped your phone, raising the volume. Watching as his eyes moved over the screen. “That’s you, right?” You pointed at the guy. “The guy, not Annie.” 

Jean thickly swallowed, unsure of what to say. Or, to what you were doing. “Are you trying to get me to confess that person is me? Because, it isn’t.” He responded, “I was as a party with Eren when this happened, I already told the school–” 

You hooked your foot around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Leaning down, and running your hands through his hair again. You hummed, eyes fluttering. “Can I check?” It came out so smooth, like honey to the mouth. 

Jean’s eyes dilated, his mouth going dry. “What?” He shakily inhaled, hands dropping to his thighs. “I–” He forced an awkward smile, unable to speak. “I don’t know what you’re talkin–” 

“Shut up,” you whispered, leaning in closer. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Me to suck your dick, get stupid off it or something.” You mumbled. 

“While you’re showing me a video of some girl getting fucked?” Jean shot back, “While also accusing it’s me in the video, as well as the one who posted it.” He started to get up, but you placed your foot on his shoulders. Pushing him back to the ground. 

“No.” You quickly said, “I like you here.” You placed your calf on his shoulders, drawing him in closer. “I think you like being here too.” 

Jean hated how you were right.

Jean’s mind was at an internal debate. He was mad over your accusation, but desperate to touch you. He’s never hated, and lusted for someone as much as you. 

What was your goal?.. You never told him. 

Jean could feel himself nod, something he couldn’t control. His eyes are going everywhere, but in between your thighs. 

“Awh, how cute, love it when you’re honest with me.” You placed your foot back on the ground, grabbing his face and drawing it closer to yours, “C’mere,” you whispered. 

Jean swallowed, his tongue moving over his bottom lip as his hands went to your waist. Desprestly pulling you close to him, you just smiled. Finding it endearing how much he wanted to touch you. You pressed your lips against his, moving slowly. 

Your hands moving through his hair, arms wrapping around his shoulders. Pulling him closer to you, you could taste something sweet on his lips. You wondered if it was your cherry lip gloss, or maybe the drink the two of you shared not too long ago. 

Jean shakily exhaled, eyes fluttering shut. His hand trying to pull you closer to him. A small moan escaping his throat. 

“You’re so desperate.” You mumbled against his lips, listening as a soft whine left his throat. Making you continue kissing him. You could hear the video playing in the background, you wondered why Jean wasn’t more adamant on turning it off. 

His tongue moved over your bottom lip, your lips parting for him. You could feel his tongue move over yours, circling it, before grabbing you tighter. You jumped at the sensation. You could feel him pushing himself off the ground, something you didn’t want him to do just yet. 

“Stop, don’t.” You pushed his chest, parting him away from you. Watching as he took in a deep breath, eyelashes fluttering. You pulled your head back, smiling as he followed you. “No more kisses.” 

Jean’s Adam's apple bobbed. You couldn’t wait to run your tongue over it. Jean took in a deep breath, his eyebrows mushed together. Clearly frustrated with the lack of sensation, but he nodded.

You smiled and hummed, grabbing your phone and shoving it in his face again. “Is it you in the video?” Jean shook his head, making you roll your eyes. But, something caught your attention. You gave a pitiful laugh, “Are you hard?” You leaned down, “That’s so pathetic, and over a 5 second kiss no less.” You placed your foot on his thigh, trailing it up his leg.

Jean jumped at the sensation. His hand tightening around your leg. 

“I’m not doing anything until you tell me the truth,” you stopped, pulling back and finally sitting on your bed. “So, either you can walk out of the room with a boner, or you can just be utterly truthful with me.” You smiled at him, cupping his face and finally lifting him off the ground. “C’mon, let me take care of you Jean.” 

Jean took in a deep breath, feeling the way your voice seeped into his head. Clouding his mind like a drug, making his breath shake with every suckle of air. “I–” He looked away, “Y/n you don’t understand the severity of admitting something like that is.” 

You cut him off with another kiss, moaning against his lips as your eyes fluttered shut. Your hands moving over his chest, then to his shoulders. Pulling him closer to you. Feeling his arms wrap around the arch of your back, pulling your chest to meet his. You could feel his eagerness in the kiss. The way things were heating up too fast for your liking. 

“Slow down.” You told him, placing your forehead against his. Noses skimming each other lightly, “Enjoy the sensations, don’t rush into the finish.” You rubbed your nose against his, “What do I taste like?” 

Jean pressed his lips to yours quickly, “Strawberries, and cherries.” He kissed you again, “And, cake-pops.” He couldn’t help, but smile. 

You smiled back, “See. Being honest only brings good things.” You let your hands skim his face lightly, tracing his features. “Doesn't it feel good to be honest, it’s like a weight being lifted off your chest.” You pressed a finger above his heart. 

Jean pressed his lips together, feeling them tingle. “Yeah.” He breathy said, “It feels good to be open.” 

You giggled, pushing his chest away from you. Lifting his head, and pressing your lips to his ear. “Good, you can feel even better.” You pressed a kiss to his neck, “I want you to tear your heart apart, so I can judge what’s inside.” You bit him, feeling his jump. A whine leaving his throat. “Okay?” 

“Yes, okay.” Jean mumbled, his hands tensing around your waist. “What do you want, I’ll give you anything.” 

“Why’d you post the video?” You pulled back, pressing your back to the wall. Leaving Jean leaning on the bed. “You’ll get a big reward for this one.” You grabbed your phone, opening your camera app.  

“I didn’t post it, it’s— it’s a complicated story.” You could see the guilt in Jean’s eyes. “I– Annie had something on me, so I cut her off. I was scared she was going to get me expelled.” He sighed, “It isn’t me in the video, but..” He groaned, running his hand over his face. “But, I know someone in the baseball team posted it.” He just didn’t know specifically who. Which killed him inside.

“What did she have on you?” You grabbed his collar, popping one of the buttons open. Running your fingers over the exposed skin, then dipping your fingers lower. Reaching for his belt, undoing it. 

“She– she knows my mom.” 

You laughed, “A momma’s boy, how cute.” You mocked, pulling his belt from his pants. “But, so what? Who cares if she knows your mom?” You paused for a second, letting your eyes drift to the side while you thought about something. “Wait, I thought you didn’t talk to your parents?” Your eyebrows were mused together, displaying your confusion.

Jean swallowed, looking away embarrassed. “I don’t talk to my Dad, I just didn’t want to get into specifics at the time.” He whispered. 

You tilted your head, “Well, now you can.” You replied.

“My mom has–” Jean leaned into the crook of your neck, smelling your sweet perfume. “She’s just stressed out of her mind about how far from home I am.” You noticed how his sentence changed. “And, my Dad’s not even in the picture to comfort her.

You turned your head to his hair, rubbing your hand on his abdomen. “Awh, poor baby.” You let your fingers slip underneath his pants. “I still don’t understand why that matters?” Cold, maybe? But, you didn’t want to lie and comfort him. 

Jean groaned into your neck, his eyes fluttering. He didn’t know why he liked this so much. It felt so much more filling than anything he’s ever done before. “Annie’s in one of my classes, and knows I’ve been having someone attend for me.” He sighed, “And, I need that class to graduate. I can’t afford to repeat it– my mom wouldn’t be able to afford that stress.” He closed his eyes, “She needs me home.” 

You froze, blinking a few times. Almost in shock, it was an oddly sweet sentiment. “You’re–” still a dick. You pushed his head away from your shoulder. Pointing your camera at him, “That doesn't excuse anything, she was doing what was right.” 

“I didn’t care. I accepted that I wasn’t gonna’ graduate.” He fought back, looking directly into your eyes. “I didn’t even know the video was going to be posted, I found out the same way everyone else did..” Jean closed his eyes, “Once I knew about the baseball team rumor, I threaten to snitch. Then, I got a note saying the person would put the blame on me.” Jean tilted his head down, “He told me, no one would believe me. That— I would make the most sense.” You could see the guilt seeping from Jean.

You felt bad, yes. But, Jean needed to tell someone that. He shouldn’t have held onto it for so long. You smiled, shrugging your shoulders. “Maybe, you should’ve just gone to class. Just like everyone else.” You responded, “You need to tell someone. So, Annie can get justice.”

Jean’s eyes flickered to your phone, seeing how it was oddly pointed at him. “I want to, but I don’t know how. I don’t want to be framed.” He answered truthfully. “I don’t want my life to be ruined…” You could see genuine remorse laced in his face, even tears pearling in his eyes. “I adore Annie.” She didn’t deserve that.

His sincerity poked a knife in your chest, “I can help you.” You flashed him a nice smile, “We can bring Annie the justice she deserves.” You tiled, you head to the side. “Now, for being so good. You get a reward.” You pointed at your camera, the flash turning on. You were recording. You unbuttoned his pants, watching the way he tried helping you. A trail of hair that matched the one on his head moving down his abdomen. “Hey, Jean?” You pressed your lips against his, smiling. Feeling his hand move over the bulge in his pants, you placed yours over his. “Do you want me to do that?” 

Jean could feel his eyes flutter at the thought, your lips wrapped around his cock. You grabbed his face, pushing it away from you, and pointing your phone at his face. Jean flinched once the flash hit his face, “Tell the camera how much you want it.”

Jean’s eyes went wide, why was this so… hot? “W-what?” He blinked, averting his eyes. You just drew his face back to the lenses, opening your mouth and pointing at it. Silently telling him to do the same thing. 

Jean thickly swallowed, his lips trembling before his lips parted. You giggled, pressing your thumb to his bottom lip. Then, running it over his tongue. Watching as he stuck it out, his face dusted in a blush. 

Jean’s so hot like this. 

“Go on, tell me.” You placed your thumb in his mouth, pushing on the inside of his cheek. “What do you want?” You pulled your thumb away, a string of silva snapping as you did so. 

Jean sighed, his mind clouding. Just suck my dick already. “I want you to suck my dick.” He probably should’ve thought about that sentence more, before it left his mouth.

“Not good enough.” Your eyebrows were furrowed, glaring at him. “Do better, don’t disappoint me.” 

Jean's eyes fluttered. He shouldn’t have liked that as much as he did. A small whimper leaving his throat, “Can you please suck my dick, fuck.” His hand moved to his boner, rubbing it through the thin fabric of his boxers. He took a shaky breath in, “I really fucking need you to suck my dick.” 

You pushed his bangs out of his face, letting his eyes look into the camera– his pupils going small. You tugged his hair, making him flinch. His Adam's apple bobbing with the motion. “Good enough.” You hit the red button again, making the recording stop. “But, that’s not all I want.” 

You pushed yourself off the bed, letting your knees hit the floor. Jean racked his fingers through your hair, “What else do you want?” It was supposed to be defensive, disgusted, and dismissive. It wasn’t 

Your ears perked at that. “I want one more video.” You let your hands move up his thighs, pressing your lips to the shell of his ear. “You can do that for me, right?” 

Jean thickly swallowed, unable to think properly. His mouth dry as he whispered, “Mhm.” He moved his head to your neck, almost like he needed it to be supported. “I’ll do anything you fuck your tight pussy.” Fucking anything. 

You hated how your thighs mushed together at his words, but you ignored it and laughed, pulling down his boxers. “Good.” You kissed his ear, then his neck. Let your hand wrap around the head of his cock. You could feel a shock move throughout your body. 

You’re kidding, that rumor was true too?!

You looked down, seeing that your hand almost didn’t wrap around the head of his cock. Jean noticed, and smiled to himself. “I told you some of the rumors were true.” His hand wrapped around yours, moving it up and down his sensitive head. “Fuck yes, love this shit.”

You inhaled, trying to stay composed. Yeah, but c’mon– why’d the horse-cock one have to be true. “That’s so stupid,” you giggled to yourself. “I hate you, and your stupid dick.” You ran your thumb over the slit, watching as he stuttered. Closing one eye, and scrunching his nose.

Jean’s cock was oddly pretty. Which was something you never knew a cock could be but– here you were. His tip was flushed in the same color of his cheeks, two veins following to the base of his cock. One traveling on the underside, then moving back up to the top. While the other just went down the left side. The best part was, he was well groomed. 

You swallowed, swirling your tongue around the head. Closing your eyes, and pressing your tongue to the underside of his cock. Jean moaned, his dick twitching in your mouth. 

“God, fuck yes.” His hand went to your hair, holding it behind your head. “Deep— can you go deeper, please?” Jean whined, his hand tensing in your hair. He shivered, “Mhmp—“ he put his hand over his mouth, trying to control his moans. But, a muffled— “Fuck,” passed through. 

You couldn't say no to that, not when Jean couldn’t hold back his moans, because it felt so good. You wanted to head more. You inhaled before closing your eyes, and pushing yourself closer to his abdomen. Stretching your mouth open to accommodate his size. Why’d his dick have to be so big? 

Jean gasped, hips jutting forward into your mouth. His teeth clenched, a small whine leaving his mouth while his eyes watered. Why the hell was he so sensitive? Jean moaned, “Fuuck, ohmygod– don’t stop, don’t fucking stop.” He could feel the back of your throat hit the head of his cock, and to think– you hadn’t even taken all of him in your mouth. 

You closed your eyes and pushed your head, feeling his dick fill your throat. A loud whine echoing through your room, your hands moving up and down what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You pulled back, running your hand up and down his cock. Rubbing the tip with the palm of your hand. Jean gasped, his chest jumping up. A deep groan leaving his lips.

Jean’s tip flushed pink, and oozed with pre-cum. Your hand going up and down, watch the obscene sight. It was so nasty and dirty. Sucking the dick of your best friend’s ex, yet here you were. Eyes watering at the thought of it entering you, your pussy soaking the panties you were wearing. 

You were horny over seeing Jean crumble in your hand.

You opened your lips again, sticking out your tongue and batting your eyelashes at Jean. As his cock meets your tongue again, making you open your eyes and look down. Watching as you moved down his length, moaning softly. The noise vibrated down his cock, making his thigh jump. “You’re so good, fuck I’ll do anything to keep you here.”

Jean sharply inhaled, rutting his hips forward. Trying to get deeper in your mouth, “Fuck, whatever– whatever you want, I’ll fucking do.” He said, stuttering over his words. You couldn't help, but feel your eyes flutter, slowly moving forward. Taking a good amount of him inside your mouth. A soft groan heard from above you, as his hand met your cheek, slowly caressing it before going to the bed sheets. Gripping onto them, as Jean tried to support himself. 

Your mouth was so warm. So hot and inviting, like it had been waiting to take his cock deep inside you. Jean couldn’t help, but wonder– how your pussy would feel? How hot, tight, twitching and desperate it would be. 

Jean hated how he wasn’t in control. He wanted his first time with you to be about you, and only you. Your pleasure. Not his. 

Then again, he was stopping himself from gripping your hair. Pushing your up and down his cock at a pace he enjoyed. Fuck the slow shit, he loved the messy pleasure. Where you don’t care about how you look, you’re just desperate to feel good. 

Jean wanted to make you cry and sob with pleasure, your eyebrows furrowed and mind empty. Pleasure swirling your head, cum spilling out of your pussy. Body twitching when he made you cum, again, and again, and again, and again. The way your mind would go stupid.

He wondered how hot you’d look squirting. 

All dumb and empty, drunk on the feeling of his cock hitting that perfect, little, spongy, place. The way you wouldn’t be able to think right, just stupid for him. But, right now, Jean was going to focus on you taking his cock slowly. 

Let you take control of the situation, because it felt so fucking good. Try to hold back the urge to fuck your throat. Jean wanted to let you do your thing for the time being. He would do what he wanted, later. 

Hopefully there was going to be a fucking later.

Jean loved being treated like this. But, he was also desperate to make you cry with ecstasy. 

You tried going back down, finding it a struggle to fit him in your mouth. Which was far more embarrassing then it should’ve been. It didn’t help feeling his cock slowly moving down into your throat. 

You were so used to being able to deep throat anyone, hear them whimper and cry like they never had before. And now, you couldn’t even deep throat Jean’s stupidly big dick. An event bulge even Jean could see, indicating how deep inside his throat he was. You took a moment to try and breath, before swallowing. Your throat slightly tightening around him to make him stiff. A particular groan leaving him that made you clamp your legs together. 

“Yes, yess. Fuck, you’re doing so well Y/n.” He groaned, cocking his head back. His throat displayed to you while his eyes fluttered, rolling to the back of his head. “I can’t—just, fuck—don’t stop. Don’t stop.. don’tstop.” Jean rocked his hips forward, pushing his cock deeper into your throat. Cutting off your air. 

Soo fucking good. Was the only thing swirling in Jean’s head. Jesus, he was obsessed with you. Thank god you were finally sucking his dick, he wouldn’t be able to handle another day without this. Fuck, would you suck his dick everyday? 

Your eyes watered, pussy fluttering around nothing as you slowly moved back and forth. Feeling him inside in ways that should be disgusting, yet here you were enjoying it. You slowly moved your head back, removing your mouth from his cock with a small ‘pop!’ You sniffed, taking a moment to try and catch your breath as you looked at Jean. 

A smile building on your lips. 

Jean’s chest was rising and falling quickly, hands grabbing onto the sheets as he pulled his head back to look at you. His eyes were watering, his bottom lip red and swollen. His lips jittering forward every once and a while, making a chill go down his spine. He hated the pace yoy we’re going. A painful slow pace that made him want to grab your head and fuck your mouth. At a pace he would enjoy, thoroughly. 

Yet, he didn’t. He wanted to let you do your thing, for now at least. It wouldn’t be long until he got what he wanted. 

Looking up to Jean, you licked the corner of your mouth, your tongue peaking at him for a second. Before you tilted your head to the side, pressing your tongue to the underside of his cock, and taking a long hot lick up his dick, drool pooling down his cock. You made sure to trace it over the vein. 

Jean snapped his hand over his mouth, eyes rolling into his head. A moan leaving his covered lip. You couldn’t help, but giggle. Pulling your head back and taking a look at his cock. Jean’s chest rising and falling as deep breaths left him. 

 You didn’t want to admit it, but you liked doing this. Loved doing this. You didn’t know if it was Jean who you loved doing, or the action itself. You’ve given head before, but you’ve never seen a boy tear up because it was so good. 

Maybe, you just liked feeling Jean, and you didnt want to admit it. You liked when his bare hand touched your skin, the heat and roughness of it sending a satisfying shiver down to your clit. Running gently through your hair, and pulling it out of your face. 

Jesus, your panties were drenched at the thought. 

You wanted more of his skin. You wanted your mouth all over his bare skin, you were dying to feel him against you. Most of all, you wanted to kiss him. Your mouth desperate and eager to please—and kiss him. Feeling his tongue against yours, making your head cloudy and full of thoughts of him and only him. His flavor, scent, feeling, just Jean in general. You craved that.

Because, deep down—the reason you were with so many people, is because you're a good girl. Someone who loves to please, loves the attention. Yes, you were an attention whore, and lied about it. But, wasn’t everyone? 

Maybe, you were a little fake. But, you still followed through with every plan. Revenge always wins your secret desire, it was always so much more satisfying to see a man beg—rather than it being you. Maybe, you were just a switch. One that took whatever Jean gave her.

Jean has been dying to see you like this, on your knees looking up at him with your glossy eyes and sucking his cock. Legs clamped together, because of how much you were enjoying this. 

It was nasty, disgusting even but, you were enjoying this so much. Feeling his dick deep in your throat. Jean’s eyes on you, watching as you struggled yet powered through. The small moans, and grunts he would release when you tried fitting him all in your mouth. Still, that wasn’t enough for Jean, he wanted more. He wanted more of his dick down your throat. Wanted to see more of the bulge of your neck. Grab your neck to fucking feel it. 

Jean’s hand went to the top of your head, grabbing your hair and pulling you down his dick. His tip hits the back of your throat before deeply going inside. A small gag leaving you, tightening around his cock making Jean jolt forward. A soft groan catching your attention, eyes looking up to see as he tilted his head back. 

You were glaring at him, a warning for him not to touch you. You moved your head back, pushing his hand from your hair. You pressed your lips on the top of his cock, “Do that again, and I’ll stop.” You glared at him, “Don’t touch me.” 

Jean swallowed, a small moan leaving his throat. He just slowly nodded, hands moved to the bedding and gripping them. “Fine. Okay, okay.” He shakily sighed, “I won’t touch you.” 

You smiled sweetly, pressing a kiss to the tip. “Good, I’m so happy you can listen.” Let’s see if he follows through. You started moving forward and back, tongue feeling on his cock as you continued. Keeping at a pace that was hot and enjoyable for you. 

Jean thickly swallowed, head lollying back. His eyes met the top of the room. His nerves all over the place in the best way possible. Making his mind clutter, the only thing going through it was your name. Holy. Shit. He needed this shit. He needed you. 

You looked up to Jean, eyelashes fluttering as you moved back and forth. You were enjoying this. You were enjoying choking on your best friend’s ex, feeling his cock deep in your throat. Your panties were wet, your thighs rubbing together as you closed your eyes. A soft moan expressing this desire. 

You wanted Jean. Pathetically.

You swallowed around him, moving back and dragging your tongue to the tip of his cock. Running your tongue over the tip, circling around it before adding more pressure. Watching the way Jean jolted forward for a moment, his hands meeting your hair with a scratchy groan. 

Jean’s hands tensed around the bedding, catching your attention. Your eyes going to his hands, watching as they moved off the bedding. You were going to stop if he touched you. Jean’s hands went close to your head, tensing before going back to the sheets. Gripping onto them, he wanted to touch you. You couldn’t help, but giggle. 

You pushed your mouth down his cock again, this time— taking him all the way in your mouth. Something that caught you off guard. A sigh of relief from Jean audible from where you were. Your nose softly pressing against his abdomen, cutting off any air from reaching your system. A soft gag tightening around his cock as your eyelashes fluttered. Tears fell down your face as you closed your eyes. Trying not to choke, and touch yourself from the action. Wanting relief on your clit. 

You finally pushed yourself off. Tongue running over his head for the last time before smiling. Siliva decorating your lips, a few strands connected to his throbbing dick. He let go sheets, trying to catch his breath. The tip burning with pleasure, desperate to finish. You pushed your head down his cock one more time, moving back down. Ignoring the slightly uncomfortable feeling of your panties. 

You stopped, hearing Jean moan loudly. That was good enough. Dick still in your mouth as you pushed yourself off. Indicated with a satisfying, ‘Pop!’ Your head was fuzzy, still in a moment of bliss. Eyes slightly cloudy and watery, thighs clamped together. Your body is tingly and warm, clit sensitive at the thought of being touched.

You hated how much sucking dick affected you. 

You smiled at Jean, resting your head on his thigh. You were losing composure, which you couldn’t do. You needed to get what you needed, and you needed to get it fast. You slowly moved your hand up and down his cock. Feeling it twitch in your palm. “Remember how I said I needed one more thing?..” Your voice was smooth, almost sweet.

Jean blinked a few times, trying to regain his blurry vision. “Yeah, maybe– fuck.. Kinda.” He bit his bottom lip, hands moving around your. Helping you pick up the pace. You were tempted to stop, you did tell him not to touch you. But, you were almost done. So, it didn’t really matter. 

You pushed yourself off the ground. Pressing your lips to his, taking your free hand and grabbing his glasses from the bed. You made sure to run your tongue over his before pulling back, watching as he tried to follow you. You placed the glasses on his head, slotting them over his eyes. His bangs are slightly damp, and messy, draping over his eyes. You pulled out your phone, pointing it at Jean. Pressing record. “Do you wanna’ cum?” You pulled back, making sure to get his hand moving up and down his cock. Your smaller hand underneath, some pink nails peaking through the cracks.

Jean bit his bottom lip, his dilated as he looked into the camera. “Mhm.” 

“Words.” Your hand tightened around him slightly, making Jean flinch. Jean sighed, his face now read. Averting his eyes, “Can you make me cum, y/–” You slapped your hand over his mouth. Making sure the video wouldn't catch it. 

“Don’t say my name, Jean.” Your words were venom, “Men who can’t control their dick, don’t deserve to cum.” Your voice was deeper than before, but still smooth. There were two reasons you didn’t want him to say your name; 1. If this video were to be.. Leaked. You wouldn't want to be associated with it. 2. You would pounce on Jean if he moaned your name. 

Jean shook his head, blinking at you through the screen of your phone. “No, please!” He whined, shaking your hand off his lips. “Fuck, please let me cum. Inside you– on you.. I don’t fucking care just, please..” He cried, a tear rolling down his face. “I wanna cum, please make me cum.” He inhaled, tears pearling in the waterline of his eyes. “Fuck, yes. Please make me cum– fucking need it.” 

You thickly swallowed, stopping the recording and tossing your phone. “Fine.” You cooed, “but, only because you asked so nicely.” You smiled at Jean. 

Jean shakily inhaled, “Thank you, god fucking thank you.” You moved your thumb to the tip of his cock, rubbing him off while giving attention to the head. Watching as he moaned, grabbing the end of his shit and bringing it to his mouth. Biting into it and stuffing his moans, but desperate you watch your small hand around his huge cock. His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the sight. 

“Fuck, I-I’m gonna’ cum.” He cried, his face nose scrunching cutely. You continued the motion, watching as Jean tensed. “Fuck, fuck–fuckfuck.” You watched as thick white ropes decorated your knuckles, making you giggle. You removed your hand, shaking it for a moment before retrieving a towel. Cleaning your hand and doing the same with Jean. Letting him collect his thoughts. 

It wasn’t long before he was staring at you. You smiled at him sweetly, “Finally able to think?” 

“What are you going to do with that video?” 

You sat on your coffee table, “I honestly didn’t think your dick was going to be that big.” You stated, ignoring Jean’s question. You pressed your hand to your lower stomach, “I wonder how deep you would be of me?” 

Jean thickly swallowed, closing his eyes. Trying to hide the fact that they were rolling back at the thought of being deep inside you. “Y/n, seriously. Don’t–” 

“I don’t know yet.” You responded, finally answering his question. You looked at your nails, “We’ll see.” You flashed him a kind smile. Your eyes widened, like you remembered something. Your hand went into your shirt, reaching inside your bra and pulling something out. A ring. You purity ring. “Here.” You tossed it at Jean, “It’s a little gift I give everyone I mess with.” You had a whole pack of them, it was a prank gift from Mikasa. You tilted your head, “It’s cute right, a little purity ring.” 

Jean’s eyebrows came together, showing his confusion. Everyone you mess with? Don’t tell me.. Jean could feel himself mentally groan. “Don’t tell me–”

“You’re kinda an idiot.” You voiced, smiling at him cheekily. “But, everyone falls for what they want to believe.” 

Jean sighed, slipping the ring over his pinkie. It was probably the only finger it could fit, even then– it didn’t even pass the joint. “Love it.” He said sarcastically. His eyes moved to you, “What now?” 

You looked up, “Maybe, apologize to Mikasa.” You pressed your lips together, “And, go tell the dean about Annie.” You nodded to yourself, that was the plan.

Jean looked to the side, “She doesn't want to hear from me.” He also followed it by, “I will.”

“Just say sorry,” You groaned, “I literally wouldn’t hate you so much if you apologized.” 

“You hate me?” Jean teased. 

“I’ve told you a thousand times.” You playfully rolled your eyes, “But, yes. I hate you.” Jean smiled, biting the inside of his cheek and looking away. You couldn’t help but laugh, pushing yourself off the wall and wrapping your arms around his neck. “But, isn’t this how it works, Babe?” You told him, “You leave before I wake up, or something.” 

“Yeah, but I don’t think you’re sleeping.” 

Your eyebrows raised, “Or, don’t tell me..” You pressed your hand over his heart, “You actually want to stay with me.” You cooed. 

Jean stayed quiet, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. You didn’t miss how his hand wrapped around your waist. “Of course not, I’m so ready to leave.”

Your eyes widened for a second. You sighed, “Good.” You whispered, “I’ll text you.” You scrunch your nose, “Maybe.” You didn’t want to make any promises. 

Jean smiled, “Okay.” 

You couldn’t say things turned out the way you planned. “You know,” You said, pushing yourself away from him. However, still standing close. “I’m thinking about leaking the video of you cumming.” You pressed your finger against his lips. Watching as his eyebrows mushed together for a moment, about to speak when you cut him off. “Do you still want me to text you?" It was a trick question. Of course you weren’t gonna leak the goddamn video. You weren’t crazy.

Jean’s eyes moved up, and down your face. “Yes.” He hesitated, but answered nonetheless. “I don’t want you to be my karma.” 

Your eyes widened at his response. Caught off guard, “I can’t promise you anything, though.” 

“I don’t care.” Jean pushed his head in your neck, pulling you closer to him. “This is good for now.” 

You laughed, placing your hand on your face. You sighed again, “I hate you.”

Jean kissed your neck, “Perfect, wouldn’t want it any other way.” 

You let your head fall on him, “Actually, if we go to the dean right now, and tell him what happened. I’ll ride you.” You cooed.

Jean sprung out of the bed, wrestling to put on his pants. “Fuck, I’ve been dying to tell the dean the shit I know. Get your ass out of bed, and watch me.” He glared at you, “I don’t care if he tries to blame me, at least I tried.”

“But, aren’t you scared?” You asked. “What if no one’s believes you?”

“No.” Jean softly replied, “I know that someone believes me. And at least— I helped with closure.”

You smiled fondly. “Good.”

Jesus fuck, Mikasa was going to kill you. 

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

#aot x you #writers on tumblr #anime #fiction #writing #aot fanfiction #aot x y/n #rating: mature #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan #jean x y/n #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirschtein fanfiction #jean kirschstein #smut with plot #jean kirschtein x reader #attack on titan characters #attack on Titan jean

[wistfully-wisteria]

𝐒𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 (ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ) "ᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴏᴏᴅ?"

PROHERO AU [f][a]

SUMMARY: You knew what you were signing yourself up for when you chose the life of a pro hero–and you loved it. Or at least, you thought you did. But when you're called to make a sacrifice for Japan that you imagined part of the job, you begin realizing how much you love your life–and the people–outside of it, too.

BACKGROUND: You're Kirishima Eijiro's little sister, and hence, his best friend, Bakugo Katsuki, adopts a protective relationship with you. Despite being the eighth pro hero in Japan, you are relatively unknown to the public eye–including number one hero, Midoriya Izuku.

Main pairing(s): Midoriya Izuku, Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Word count: .8k

<masterlist> <next (pt. 1)>

WARNINGS: suicide mission, depressing themes, etc.

You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves as you rest your sweaty palms on the large, heavy metal doors. Closing your eyes, you exhale a final calming sigh, and with a firm push, you send the oversized doors swinging inward. "L/n Y/n," You declare confidently, briskly entering the room, taking long strides. "Pro hero 'Scribble.' " You stop as you reach the end of the long, oval table, and quickly scan the room.

"Ah. Miss Scribble. Please, take a seat."

Your eyes widen as they land on two figures more than you were expecting, disregarding his invitation to sit. "I was unaware there would be others here today, sir." You state transparently, gaze locking with that of the HSPC's acting president. "I was under the impression this conversation was something... not meant for prying eyes."

A small scoff drags your attention back to the cocked eyebrow of the ash blonde boy you had grown to know too well. "You're kidding." Disrespectful and entitled as ever, his scornful tone is accompanied by his legs strewn carelessly upon the pristine table. His eyes seem to size you up. He had, of course, done this countless times before–but this time felt differ; weariness and pity now in the depths of his eyes. "She's not right for this."

"Right for what?" You frown. You hadn't been told what was so confidential–only that it was of the upmost importance.

Your question remained unanswered as the hot-tempered boy brought his feet harshly swing down, his hard glare finally shifting to the man sitting directly across the table from you. "No. I won't."

"Won't what?"

Again, they do not respond. "Why not? Do you disagree that she would be the perfect fit? Think about this, Dynamight. Do not let your personal life get in the way of what you know is right."

You begin to bristle. They have not so much as looked your way since you got here.

Wait–that's not true.

He hasn't looked anywhere but your way, you note.

Green hair, freckles, doe eyes.

He looks young. Innocent. Too much so to be somewhere like here.

Too much so to be who you know he must be.

"What sets her apart from the rest?" The boy speaks, emerald eyes not leaving yours, staring with great, earnest intrigue. And yet, again, in the forests that are his eyes, you find pity. "What is her quirk?"

"Inkw-" You begin.

"Eighth hero Scribble possesses the quirk Inkwell. Secreted by glands in her fingertips, her ink can be brought to life when drawn with." He reads from–a file of you? Seriously? "Bound by the law, she cannot legally create paper currency, but anything other, from her ink, may be created by her and only her. Similar to that of Ms. Creati–however since she need not burn her own fat to utilize her quirk, less holds her back."

Invasion of privacy.

"Eighth?" Japan's top hero mumbles. His eyes finally leave yours as they dart around the room anxiously. "She would be rather well suited." He says, returning to normal volume. "You can't deny that much."

"You want to bet, Deku? No."

"Kacch-"

"If you wish to speak of me as if I'm not here, I'll leave." You announce, officially done with taking the disrespect. "But if you want something of me, my storming out will not help your odds."

All three pairs of eyes dart to you, a smirk playing on the lips of a certain smug boy.

"I suppose there's no point in debating this matter if she may not agree to it anyway." Mr. number one acknowledges, biting his lip.

A long- painfully so- sigh escapes the lips of the president as he massages his temples, and you swear you can hear his teeth grinding. "Alright then, Ms. Scribble." He motions again for me to sit–and coupled by the finality in his tone, you obey.

The screech of the chair resounds almost ominously through the brightly lit room as you finally take your seat; almost like a warning.

"On behalf of the Hero Public Safety Commission, I am here to present forth to you your next mission."

You snort. "Awful extravagant for just another mission briefing."

The laugh isn't returned.

"Let me be clear, Ms. Scribble." His eyes are flint hard. "This is not 'just another mission briefing.' Anything said, done, or shown hero, is never to leave these walls. Understood?"

You hesitate, your eyes scanning the room for someone you can trust. They find those of your brother's best friend–hold eye contact; search for the truth in his eyes.

You can't tell just whether the drowning sensation is from him challenging you to say yes–or begging you to say no.

In the end, it's the earnest sincerity in his eyes that convinces you.

You tear your eyes away, and for the second time in the past ten minutes, you find yourself closing your eyes.

You let out a calming exhale.

"Understood."

#mha #mha x reader #angst #fluff #headcannons #fanfic #fanfiction #bakugo #bakugo x reader #midoriya #midoriya x reader

[ups3tti]

Euphrasia & Morro as foils

@emerald-cloud23 HI OKAY YES ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE. Euprhasia is so important to me I'm so glad you asked JFHEKTJ (Morro too obviously but yk.). This is going to be a bit long, apologies in advance.

Dragons rising season 1 spoilers if that matters to anyone.

- To start off, the difference between Euphrasia's quote of "Time to make *our* own destiny!" and Morro's "Well *I* make my own destiny!" Is incredibly important to me. Euphrasia is connecting herself to those around her from the start, even when defining herself, whereas Morro defined himself *by* being set apart from everyone else.

- Something that immediately stood out to me was how Euphrasia's first major beginning moment as the master of wind is by being the main force used to drive back massive tentacled monsters out of/in order to protect cloud kingdom and back into a rift. This is such a contrast to how Morro's story ended, with him summoning a giant tentacled monster from a portal and destroying a Stiix in order to see it through.

- Speaking of Euphrasia's first fight, she is consistently using her elemental powers as a support for others. She saves Arin and Sora from falling, she helps the ninja launch spinjitsu attacks, and while she does still do damage herself, she prioritizes finding ways to support the others.

Morros style is not based in teamwork that way at all. Even with his ghost gang, he usually has them doing their own separate thing. "I control the wind, YOU control the situation" and all that jazz. He climbs the peak to blind man's eye on his own, confronts the ninja on his own, confronts nya and lloyd on his own, etc etc etc. When he has his gang do stuff, like distract Nya or the other ninja, he's normally watching from the side, or doing his own separate task. He's using the wind to get on the offensive or to get *himself* out of harms way.

- all in all, Morro uses the wind for offense and agility, Euphrasia uses it for defense and support.

- Euphrasia greatly values her culture, community and loved ones, to the point where she was intending to forgo use of her elemental power entirely in order to remain with them, AND risked exile in order to protect them. After she was able to reveal her power and wasn't shunned for it, she stayed on at the Cloud Kingdom as its protector.

We don't know where Morro came from, who his parents were, any of that. He had Wu and that was it. His entire identity was forged around what he wanted to become, instead of who he was to begin with.

- A more obvious one is their personalities, I feel the differences are pretty clear and I don't need to specify a whole lot but a big one is Morro's arrogance vs. Euphrasias uncertainty, especially as it translates to being a wind elemental.

I really love the choice to have Euphrasia wanting to write her own destiny but taking it in an entirely different direction than Morro did. Every element seems to have some concept that connects one master to the next, and I don't think Wind is any different.

Thats all I got for now! I could probably think of more if I rewatched certain episodes but I'm a bit tired. PLEASE let me know if anyone thinks of other stuff I would love to hear it

#ninjago euphrasia #ninjago morro #morro wu #ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #they are creation both haunted and holy 2 me #sketti rambles

[simp2537]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔉𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔄𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔢

A/n: All series triggers will be bellow. I’ll say this now, as sweet at alice! Reader is she’s deadly. That’s all the future context I’m giving. Enjoy. 😉

Word Count: 464

Trigger Warnings: Gore, Blood, Horror, Cursing, Child Abuse, Human experiments, Child abandonment, Angst, Depression, Anxiety, PTSD, Insomnia, etc

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕺𝖓𝖊

Aizawa stared ahead with his eyes hurting. He had no idea why Nezu had insisted he go along on this mission. As he roamed the halls of the building he could help but feel uneasy.

This building had a creepy nostalgic feeling. It’s felt  familiar, yet unnatural. There was a scream and Aizawa darted down the hallway as his comm came one. 

“I’ve got the west wing.” Aizawa said while throwing open a door. In the room was a bunch of tanks filled with strange colorful creatures. In different jars were strange plants and mushrooms. Blood covered the room. 

Bodies filled the floor while flowers and mushrooms grew out of their bodies. Aizawa gaged at the sight as the smell of blood filled his nose. Another scream filled his ears and Aizawa ran towards the sound.

Aizawa froze in his spot at the sight before him. A glowing portal was behind a small figure of a little girl. Nurse, doctors, and guards dead bodies surrounded her. 

Her arms, legs and neck were bandaged with dirt and blood seeping through. Blood stained her hands and she slowly turned her head towards him. Aizawa gasped at the figures behind her. 

A women around her late twenties with long dark blue hair, olive skin, blood red eyes, and a bloody sword with thorny vines covering it. The woman was dressed in a red shirt and black pants.

A man around his early thirties with brown hair, fair skin, golden eyes and he was,holding a bloody musics sheet along with a blue rose bleeding on his shoulder. The man was dressed in a blue shirt, and brown pants. 

The second woman around he early twenties had golden blonde hair, tanned skin, emerald eyes, and a bloody crown on her head. She was dressed in a green dress with a ribbon in the back and small ribbon in her hair. 

The last people were two girls around 18, with snow pale skin, one with cyan eyes, the other sunset orange, both girls had white hair. The taller one was dressed in a light yellow dress with ruffles at the top, and the other in a golden yellow with a red skirt overalls. Each girl had blood on there mouths and necks. 

As the portal behind the girl turned off the figures disappeared. The small girl collapsed and Aizawa caught her before her head could hit the ground. As the lights went on he could see her features.

Her h/c hair was covered in blood. Her s/c skin was covered by dirty and bloody bandages. Her hospital gown was bloody and gross. A large bruise formed on her left side of her face. 

As his back up ran into the room Aizawa couldn’t move his eyes from the small girl.

#platonic! aizawa x reader #kiribaku x reader #kirishima x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #alice!reader #alice in wonderland x reader #𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔉𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔄𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔢

[v3nusxsky]

Hold on| H&c

*Authors note~ this little idea was not leaving my head as I was battling with my requests. I am writing them guys it's just when an idea strikes you have to run with it Yano? I want to get the best versions I written that I possibly can. I appreciate how Patient you all are with me*

Trigger warnings~ stabbing angst etc

Prompt~ raven goes wrong. R gets hurt and Larissa fears she'll lose her lover.

☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾

The Raven dance was single handedly the best event of the school year. The students were abuzz with plans of what to wear, themes and even ways to ask their partner of choice to attend with them. Even the students of Jericho high knew of the yearly event so it wasn't a surprise when the noted the students of Nevermore walking through the town to find outfits. Relations between Outcasts and Normies were still incredibly strained despite all the work you knew Larissa was trying to do.

The weekend before the dance you had to make a simple run into the town to choose a last minute outfit, as Larissa had asked you to attend the dance with you as her girlfriend but under the pretence of you chaperoning the dance. She had even promised you a private dance in her quarters. Unbeknownst to the rest of the school you and Larissa practically lived in her quarters, your relationship strictly kept between the two of you for the time being. It was not because either of you was ashamed of the other, no it was simply because you were basking in the glow of the honeymoon period. So you wanted to find something deliciously sinful for the end of the night alongside a dress that would drive your girlfriend wild.

You knew exactly what type of dress that you wanted to get. You knew that a floor length, tight fitting emerald dress would would highlight your eyes. You found the perfect dress and took a few teasing photos to send of to your girlfriend. You decided to stop by the Weathervane to grab your usual and Larissa's before returning to Nevermore.

The day of the dance came around rather quickly and so far there had been no issues or problems with any students or any staff involved. It was set to be a complete success even with the arrival of Wednesday Addams you couldn't see this going wrong. Admittedly, the arrival of Wednesday had caused your girlfriend to be overwhelmed and stressed most nights, which resulted in many interestingly satisfying nights shared between you both.

The venue was absolutely stunning as always, your girlfriend definitely had an eye for the finer things in life and this demonstrated that perfectly. Her attention to detail was astounding. The students were equally as impressed with the magical decorations and the event seemed to flow perfectly. Yourself and Larissa had even managed to sneak a few shared moments together in the corners of darkness. Fleeting kisses or longing touches as you past each other, teasing for what lay ahead.

Yes, it was simply one magical night and you couldn't be prouder of the success your girlfriend was having. That was all well and good until it came to the last dance of the night, even with Wednesday Addams in attendance nothing had strayed from the plan. In fact she had spent most of the night extremely well behaved following Enid Sinclair around. That's why it was a complete shock to you what followed. It's crazy how some peoples small minded actions could destroy what was a perfect night.

The last song of the night was "Hayloft, Mother Mother" what ironically set the mood for what was to come. As the song progressed and the lyrics "whatever happened to the hayloft? Burnt to the ground and what about pop? My baby's got a gun" Rang out through the hall as a group of some Normie teens brush in, clothed in all black and masks that hid their faces. Instantly screams of panic we're battling the music to be the loudest. Nevermore students frantically trying to run from the three new arrivals while Wednesday Addams just remained frozen in the middle of the dance floor. It was as if it was all in slow motion for you. The three teens circled Wednesday and all withdrew weapons from their pockets. It was then you knew what would happen.

You immediately jumped in front of Wednesday feeling the bullet piercing through layers of skin tissue and even muscle of your abdomen. The pain being fought off be adrenaline. Wednesday maybe the cause of the stress for your girlfriend but she was a student none the less and that meant you'd do anything to ensure her safety. Even if it meant comprising your own. The three teens seemingly disappeared after shooting you. You spared a glance back to see a shocked Wednesday and a distraught Larissa. But they all looked unharmed. Adrenaline was wearing off now the threat was gone and the pain quickly encasing all of your senses, every muscle every nerve buzzing with it. You collapsed backwards grunting in pain as it nudged the bullet in your abdomen. The sharp intense pain stole consciousness from your body.

When you came too you immediately noticed your lover above you, hands pressing on your shoulders to keep you pressed into the ground and still. She would turn away from you and wince as another set of hands worked on your abdomen removing the pieces of shrapnel from you. Larissa's face displayed the concern and guilt she felt. You let out a gut wrenching sob as every small piece of shrapnel was plucked from your wound and placed onto the ground with a plunk. Your sobs had Larissa screwing her eyes shut and inhaling sharply knowing you were in pain and she couldn't help, instead she was holding you still subjecting you to the pain. Despite how necessary it was didn't mean it made her feel any better holding her lover down as you attempted to wither in pain below her. She spared you a glance and saw your red tear soaked face as you began to shake and moan in pain.

"Just keep looking at me darling. That's it. Let me see those pretty eyes my love. I know it hurts darling but Marilyn is almost done and then you can sleep for as long as you desire y/n. Just keep those pretty eyes on me and focus on my voice okay? Stay with me love" she pleaded with you to follow her instructions and you were trying. It was Marilyn taking the pieces of the bullet from your skin. And she was here with you. Comforting you. Loving you. You nodded weakly, pulling your plump bottom lip in between your teeth sinking your teeth in it as tears streamed from your tightly squeezed shut eyes.

Her praises were ever flowing and that's what kept you going despite the immense pain you were in. You did your very best to follow her words, in the end all you could do is scream out for her, your love, to make this all go away. Whimpering at the pain pleading with her to make Marilyn stop. She couldn't do that so settled for reassurance. Clearly after tonight you're relationship would be common knowledge but in this moment you couldn't care less. You were in pain and you wanted your Rissy. Soon enough Marilyn was bandaging you up and helping Larissa carefully move you. Originally Marilyn had planned to move you to your quarters until a worried glance was shot her way by Larissa. Soon enough you were placed in warm soft sheets that smelled of your girlfriend. Not the sexy night you had planned but everyone was safe and that was all you cared for.

Word count~ 1314

#fanfic #larissa weems #wednesday netflix #gwendoline christie #larissa x you #larissa x reader #larissa weems x reader #principle weems #principleweemsxreader

[umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken]

Tamris arranged marriage

post acowar, slotting in between acofas and acosf. I started watching bridgerton very late to the game, so...

Beron, being the ambitious HL that he is, decides that the best way to conquer the Mortal lands is to become strong allies with the Spring Court. What better way to do that, then through an arranged marriage with the High Lord of Spring himself? Tamlin?

Eris, as the heir to Autumn, is his first choice. Once he marries Tamlin and they create heirs, their children will rule BOTH Autumn and Spring. The thought has Beron practically salivating.

Eris shares his father's ambition (or does he?), but of course has his reservations.

Beron studied his goblet. "Do you remember our late Lady Titania of Spring?

He frowned. Yes, he did remember her. Being of an age with Tamlin, he had been old enough to accompany his parents on Solstice celebrations and gatherings, and had often glimpsed the beautiful Lady of Spring there, her sons tailing behind. But what of it?

"The Lady Titania was... not born female, though it is the form that she preferred the most when she was alive. It is from her that the late sons of Spring, and Tamlin inherited their shapeshifting powers. I am sure that when it comes to it, children won't be an issue."

oh.

Arrangements are made and Beron tells Eris to visit Tamlin and propose their proposal, ha.

It does not come across well, and he takes some convincing, but when Eris mentions that the Spring refugees in the Summer Court have expressed a desire to come back to their homes, Tamlin's spark returns. He will do anything and everything in his power to keep his people safe and restore their home, his court.

They come up with a bargain. Once they have married, and an heir is conceived, Beron will send floods of Autumn architects/ builders/ healers etc to restore Spring. But for now, the manor is the only occupied residence in the court.

Tamlin begrudgingly agrees.

"For the Spring Court," he said firmly, extending his hand towards the son of Autumn.

"Of course," Eris replied, the warmth of the High Lord's hand feeling strange in the grasp of one so accustomed to coldness. He withdrew his hand swiftly and nodded, his eyes not once leaving those whorls of emerald as he winnowed away.

At first, they're each convincing themselves that this is all for their personal gain only, no lingering feelings from their childhoods or yearning looks in their own home (spring manor) or miscommunication about how they truly feel. At. All. Nope. They're taking advantage of the awkward lee-way after their marriage, brushing off comments with "oh, just settling in, getting used to married life, yk,"

This goes on for a while, until Beron finally shows up like "Hello? No heir? wtf???" which finally kicks their asses into gear.

They are so desperately trying to convince themselves that they Strongly Dislike the other, and that the only reason that they're doing this is to conceive an heir to kickstart their personal gains.

Eris, watching Tamlin walk away : *internally* GODS i'm horny. For Ambition.

that's all i've got, whatever happens next is entirely up to you!

#pro tamlin #tamlin #pro eris vanserra #eris vanserra #tamris

[kylietellin]

What I think the Curtis Gang's type is😳

DARRY CURTIS

This one is hard

I think someone with a skinny cheerleader bod

He prolly dated one in HS

Blonde or brunnette

Height rlly doesn't matter he's taller than most girls

Middle Class girl>>>

Eye color? idk it prolly doesn't matter that much to him

REFERENCE -> Rachel McAdams in Red Eye

SODAPOP

Natural Blonde & Blue eyes

YES IT HAS TO BE NATURAL

That's what Sandy was like

REFERENCE -> Vanessa Hessler

PONYBOY

Colored eyes

That doesn't mean just blue and green

Hazel, gray, etc..

He likes looking in them

BLUES would remind him of the sky on a sunny day

GREENS would remind him of emeralds and greenary

HAZELS & GOLDENS would remind of Johnny & that Robert Frost Poem

Hair doesn't matter

Likes his girls his type got to be a natural girl

"NoT lIkE tHe OtHeR GrEaSeR gIrLs"

wants someone to be able to listen to him and his feelings fully

you need to understand him

REFERENCE -> Brooke Shields

JOHNNY

Wants any girl he can get fr

He's gullible asf when it comes to girls

Dallas tries to set him up with no personality girls, but it makes him feel a little off

Doesn't turn them down though

His true type is a pretty girl with a good personality

someone loyal

the outside doesn't matter too much, but the inside is what really matters

not expecting super model looking girls, wants wifey material

since he's POC (i think native american?), he'll also be keeping that in mind

its the 1960s cmon yall

REFERENCE -> Jessica Alba (she so pretty wtf)

DALLAS

ugh.

He expects the prettiest girls

has a thing for brunettes/black hair

doesn't mean he doesn't indulge in the blondes though

the fake ones are his favorite

Sylvia had all different hair colors except red or other ones

blonde, brown, and black

he has had every flavor

even black girls

he doesn't care what they are they have to be "hot as hell"

Dream Girl REFERENCE -> Megan Fox

STEVE

Idk i feel like Evie has short brown hair

he likes girls like Evie

while they're on and off, he might screw a blonde or smth, but his true type is brunette

REFERENCE -> Jodi Lyn O'Keefe as Taylor Vaughn

TWO-BIT

we all know he loves blondes

with brown eyes, blue eyes, whatever, he LOVES blondes

Fake tan blondes are his fav

he doesn't actual date them, only fucks them..

All Girls Are The Same™

REFERENCE -> Anna Faris

#kylietellsજ⁀➴₊⊹ 🎀 #curtis gang #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #ponyboy curtis #dallas winston #johnny cade #two bit mathews #steve randle x reader #60s

[peachymilkandcream]

Could you write about a levi pirate kidnapping a mermaid evelyn?.

Siren|Levi x Evelyn AU

(A/N: Ooh! I love this for an idea, Levi would make a great pirate captain and I can get behind allowing the brainrot to develop. I'm leaving this a bit open ended if we want a part 2! Hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting!)

WARNINGS: implied noncon/dubcon, imprisonment, yandere behaviour/themes, misogyny, forced pregnancy, kidnapping, violence, degradation, attempted suicide, manipulation, mind breaking, forced marriage, etc.

==============================================

Levi had been born and bred on these waters, his mind focused constantly on how to read the stars and ride the waves searching for what his hearts desired. Gold and plunder never seemed to satisfy him like most, his greed had a much more exotic and unquenchable taste.

He loved mermaids, always he had dreamt of finding one to be his bride. The most fearsome pirate in the seas should have something as untamable and mysterious as one. Only that would be good enough for him. All other whores were disgusting fancies his men had. Levi never cared for them, he hated to share.

All his life he had been on the quest to no end, searching and searching for what he could call his beloved and own. The passing years of fruitless voyages turning him more disagreeable and erratic. Hundreds of sailors wished to be on his crew for his mass riches, but few remained when they witnessed first hand how deranged their captain had become.

Anyone who spoke ill of his quest were killed without hesitation, he would not allow fate and karma to be tipped against him for some inbred dog to speak ill of these fair beauties. Many had seen the violence risen up in him when one set of waters had been combed to no avail, all stayed out of his way when he got into one of his moods.

===============================================

"You think this will be the day Cap'n?" One of his crew commented.

"It had better be or I'll kill any poor drunken sap who has a sour mood that could be scaring them off."

"Aye aye sir-" Although the sailor seemed more uneasy now.

Levi left him and stared over the ship's bannister, and into the waters below, looking for any movement. He had been called crazy more than a few times, believing that there was no such thing and he was wasting his youth and gold. One day he'd show them. One day.

Suddenly a flicker of teal and green caught his eye, causing him to look again.

There he saw it, hair as dark as the richest chocolate and a shimmering tail, it was impossible. After all this time, his prize was right in front of him.

"Drop anchor!" He barked, hurrying down the steps from the ship's wheel and staring into the water. "And get those nets in the water. I see one." He looks around at his stunned crew and anger burns with in him. "Move you lazy dogs!"

The ship erupts into chaos as all hurry to do his bidding, nets cast into the water as they chased the flickering tail below the sea's surface.

Levi could only watch in perfect stillness, waiting with anticipation for his prize to be caught. "Bring that tank out here!"

Some of his men push with great effort a tank of sea water he had made some time ago when he started his quest.

"We got it Captain we got it!" One cheers as the nets are slowly raised.

The mermaid's beauty took Levi's breath away, ocean blue eyes and thick brown hair. Skin pale as a pearl and tail green as an emerald. He couldn't believe his eyes.

"After all this time..." He personally sealed the tank, making sure there was air going in but so that she couldn't escape.

"Hello my dear."

Her silence was deafening as fear slowly gave way to defiance.

Legends said that no one could tame a mermaid, they were as wild as the sea.

"We'll see about that." He muttered. "Welcome aboard miss, I hope you're ready to be properly introduced to your master."

#break me slowly #levi x oc #attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x reader #shingeki no kyojin #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi #yandere levi x reader

[lovingwanda]

⌗ ︙ ・ Mugunghwa In The Spring ・

Empress Bayan x Fem!reader

➢ ﹒ ⊹ ₊ ˚ word count: 1,089

➢ ﹒ ⊹ ₊ ˚ post content: kissing, flirting, unrequited love, hurt / comfort, eating, wholesome, fluff, sapphic, etc.

➢ ﹒ ⊹ ₊ ˚ writer's note: I apologize in advance if I got any Korean terminology wrong, I'm not an expert on the language but this was just something I absolutely had to write for Bayan after finishing Elixir Of The Sun.

➢ ﹒ ⊹ ₊ ˚ Summary: The year is 1496 during the Joseon Era of Korea, You are a Kisaeng (government owned courtesan) that's recently been promoted to a higher rank and your talents have caught the sparkling eye of the Emperor's wife and she's more than thrilled to have your company for the day.

I do not consent to my work being reposted, stolen or translated anywhere else.

It was the beginning of spring and flowers in hues of pinks, whites and yellows were blooming all around. Her Majesty made the arrangements for your services the day before and sent three of her best palace servants to have you pampered and dressed for an evening stroll for a small picnic at Gwahae Lake.

You wore a beautiful hanbok of emerald greens and pastel pinks with a handmade and intricate gold hairpin made up of a flowery design with two dangling white pearls. It complimented the delicate blush and rose gold gloss on your face and made the brown in your eyes stand out perfectly.

Her Majesty marveled at you with a longing gaze of awe.

"I--I cannot thank you enough for your kindness, my lady!"

You stopped suddenly and lowered your head into a bow, both arms pressed tightly at your sides with your chest pounding like a drum, overwhelmed by your own body tensing up with nervousness with both eyes glued to the trail leading further out towards Gwahae Lake.

A stunned Bayan quietly stared at you with gentle eyes.

Being promoted after only eight months of being a lower ranked sampae (삼패) and jumping straight to a high ranked Ilpae (일패) has been quite the culture shock of an opportunity only a few girls your age could only ever dreamed of achieving after years of hard work.

"It's just, I never imagined I'd make it this far in such a short time."

Despite the anxiety in your body, the pounding in your chest lessened as you spoke. "Compared to the beauty and talent of the higher ranked courtesans, I'm just average." Not the most positive words but they were yours and true to how you felt.

"Y/n." Bayan cooed.

"Y-Yes, my lady?" You stammered, the nervousness wracking at you again.

Bayan placed a hand under your chin, gently lifting it for your eyes to meet hers. Her fingertips inches away from your lips, making your heart race with anticipation.

"Your beauty is something extraordinary in its own way." Bayan held both of your hands, her thumbs massaging your calloused knuckles. "And I wouldn't ever trade it for anything in the world."

From that moment forward, Her Majesty's affection for you became more and more clear and left you with so many thoughts.

The picnic that had been arranged had been placed close enough to get a wide but safe view of the lake. Sitting down against the thin cloth material as an array of sweets and sandwiches were laid out by the same three servants that dressed and washed you this morning, you just now realized that Her Majesty wasn't being accompanied by her usual guard, perhaps the Emperor's hidden assassins were keeping watch from a distance.

The two of you sat across from each other with food in between, covered by the shape of a few trees with pink and white Mugunghwa surrounding you.

A gentle breeze washed over the both of you as the conversation lengthened and the laughter began. You got to know a lot about Bayan and where she came from but there were more sensitive parts that she left vague and you got the hint not to press for anymore information.

Then she shifted the conversation to you.

"Oh, me?' You scratched the back of your head with a nervous laugh. "There's not much to say. My great grandparents were farmers and my grandmother and mother are first and second generation Kisaeng and eventually that got passed down to me."

You recall your time back home in the village. Your friends. The sights and smells from the marketplace. How your mother taught you how to bake and sew and the books you heard from your late grandmother to help you read and write since your family couldn't afford an education. Looking back at it all, it really did lessen the mistreatment from more socially high standing nobles and the harsh poverty you were so accustomed to.

"Even though the role of Kisaeng was passed down to me by the law and my mother worked hard to care for me, I always saw this sadness in her eyes whenever she smiled." There's a tightness in your chest, a melancholy feeling that almost tempts you to cry but you don't. Instead you smile through it.

Bayan's eyes softened, practically wanting to cry for you as she too understood the love of a mother doing everything to make sure her daughter was taken care of long after she's long gone. Even if it means she has to smile through the pain.

To your surprise, Bayan arms have suddenly wrapped around you, pulling you in tight. You are startled at first but steadily relax to the rhythm of your heartbeats syncing up and pulsing against one another.

"I-I hope I didn't upset you, my lady." You start stammering again. Your face becoming flushed with heat. "I--I don't usually speak about my personal life to anyone even if the ladies in my rank probably have similar stories."

"It's nothing like that, y/n," Bayan mumbled, "It's just I want you to know I understand where your coming from and a lot of what you said reminded me of my mother."

Eventually Bayan let go and the two women stared at each other for a moment. Awkward giggles and slowly eaten sweets to lighten the mood between them.

Somehow, the chocolate sweets made the moment that much sweeter, leaving a new found lightness in your chest as you played a song on the flute gifted to you from Bayan herself.

"Are you sure I can keep it? I-It's lovely but--"

"It's yours, y/n." Bayan assured, holding your hands again and curling your fingers around the instrument. "You may simply thank me by playing to heart's content." Her gaze lingered on your lips. "And please, call me Bayan from now on. There's no need for formalities between us."

Your eyes sparkles, your chest pounding with excitement. "Th-ank you, Bayan."

As you played to your heart's content through the course of your time together, Bayan plucked a nearby Mugunghwa and placed it into your hair and when the picnic was over, she just had to leave a goodbye kiss on your soft cheek as a thank you for spending the day with her.

You were a delighted but blushing mess of emotions that night that were sure to keep you awake.

#elixir of the sun #elixir of the sun x reader #bayan x reader #manwha x reader #x reader #reader fic #wlw fanfic #sapphic fanfic #x character

[softbeebee]

Take A Chance

(Ellie Williams) (tlou2) (Fluff) |

Notes : Not proof read, but this is first time writing a full-on fanfic, use of y/n, or you meaning reader. I would love to hear some feedback about this as well, I love finding ways to improve my writing 😊

Ellie couldn't keep her eye off you each time she entered the little cosy grocery store you worked out. She worries she might be caught staring at you and sure has come close to nearly being caught, entering the store the occasional bustling crowds promptly coming through as she shifts her way through to find some products she needed. Ellie feels embarrassed, unable to speak a word to you unless you start raving with a mixture of shyness and confidence that stirs in the air as she spots you. Casually talking away, helping out another Jackson citizen which Ellie tries to causally stand around.

Today, having finally built up the ox of courage to be able to ask you out, you and Ellie's conversation having picked up these last few times, she popped in. Her emerald pool eyes glances around and wonders what to do, awaiting you are no longer kindly helping out the customer with which as soon as you are, she swoops over.

"Hey you, kind enough to uh help me out?" She nervously laughs, sighing as she anxiously runs her fingers through her hair half down. You stare at her, that glimmering smile across your face. "Of course, Ellie - what are you looking for?" You curiously ask, eyes glazing over the masculine nerves of a woman standing next to you. Ellie racks her brain, pausing hesitantly. "Soup?"

You weren't sure if she really needed soup yet, but you wouldn't ask any further, taking her to the section with the small selection of varying flavours of soup. "So how have you been?" Ellie attempts and fails to start any type of small talk, sighing under her breath as she sticks her sweaty palms inside of her jean pockets. "Good, had some time off and got to relax, so getting used to coming back after those days off." You smoothly reply, eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before her eyes dash away to glance at the ground.

"Sounds great then....." The most awkward small talk you could think stands there and seems unable to get any words out. You feel that tensions the jolting tensions which have between you two for however long. "How are you doing?" You ask, checking in since she knows Ellie's situation with her old man, Joel hasn't been any easier recently. "Surviving, good where I can though I learnt some new songs recently." Ellie nodded her head in a calm manner as she spoke, close to spitting it out.

Quietness between you two, thankfully not awkward silence, which would have made the auburn haired girl rush out and drop the idea entirely. Ellie can't give in, refusing to. "Sounds nice, maybe we could spend some time together and you can show me what you learnt."

Once more nodding as Ellie squeezed her hands in her jeans in hopes it releases stress and the back seated anxiety from her body. She didn't want to scare you off or weird you out, Ellie knew her reputation follows her due to duel minded people in Jackson who rumored about her ever so often. Although, she isn't sure how they can as Ellie isn't anything special just like any Jackson citizen with the immunity to the virus...Just totally a casual citizen, your hand rubs over the other playing with small silver ring wrapped around her finger.

"I'm just going to get this out - Would you like to go on a date with me sometime soon? I thought about Friday this Friday as I know the store closes early." The bandaid swiftly ripped off, Ellie's eyes meet yours. You were slightly taller, but that was something she kind of liked about you apart from many other things such as your kindness, humour, confidence, selfless nature, etc. If she could Ellie could list it all and ramble lovingly about you as despite everything she has gained giant crush on you as dorky as it sounds it was the truth.

Biting on her lip, racing thoughts in her mind as you stand stunned by the sudden question and the giaenormous question of being asked out. Admittedly you had been waiting to either do it yourself or if there was a chance to allow Ellie to do it herself, though Ellie beat you to it and such relief washes over you having not to pretend you want to hold her hand, kiss her, amongst other things.

"Took you long enough- !" A nervous laugh escapes out during this, Ellie surprised and flustered look instantly glancing at the floor starting to realise how obvious it must of been for you as Ellie's nature wasn't so subtle or often things went over her head which is embarrassing as she has been flirted with without realising till its too late though thankful you were patient with this aspect of herself.

She feels her freckled cheeks becoming rosy and warm from the embarrassed blush covering her face, such an oblivious dork. "But, I would love to go on a date with you on Friday." That response made her smile widen across her face, both of your eyes meeting the others with gleeful glimmer going about your eye. "Great - Great then! I thought maybe we could watch a movie and I could make us something to eat for dinner. How does that sound?" Ellie didn't want to come off to strong so thought the idea of chilled out date would be the best idea for your first date.

That bright smile across your face said it all, clear eye contact with smaller masculine woman. Her heart was flying across the room in graceful yet merry fashion, but tries to seen cool and composed on the exterior. "Ellie that sounds wonderful, pick me up here at 6pm?" Which Ellie non-verbally agrees to that just before her bossy manager comes along stubborn and frustrated as usual Ellie unsure how you put up with his attitude. "I got to go, just know I'll meet you outside on Friday. Don't get in any trouble, okay?" You playfully tease, stepping away as Ellie stands there.

Excitement brewing inside of her, about to burst into fireworks as she grabs some soup cans merely a few and then buying then and carrying them in a bag as she headed out though not before spotting you once more and waves goodbye to you sweetly yet in awkward fashion just as she heads back out with a confidence boost in her step though hunched shoulders as she exited. What a date it will be, Ellie thrilled to see you on Friday.

#tlou #the last of us #tlou2 #tlou 2 #the last of us 2 #the last of us part 2 #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #x reader #abby x reader #abby x y/n #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #wlw fanfic #wlw writing #bee writes

[cvlutos]

HE WHO OWNS, THE COURT WINS IT ALL!!

✡︎ May.06.2023 | 6.0K| Commissioned by @pinkskybelle

✡︎ Vil S. | Rook H. | Male OC

✡︎ Bridgerton AU | Angst | Fluff | Poly | Slowburn | Courting | Hierarchy | Oblivious | Mentions of Alcohol| Etc

✡︎ Synopsis: This is a time for all the rich nobles and bacheors gather for six months to find a love, to grow their name, to make a fourtune. So shall you play along.

| One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six |

ACT ONE

“We know what we are, but know not what we may be.” - Shakespeare

The Huntsman gently closes the book, leaning against the rough bark of the pine tree, basking in the few sun rays that gently touch his skin. Emerald eyes flutter closed as he lets out a low amused hum.

“Something will change. C’est assez excitant~”

══════ •✦• ════════════ •✦• ══════

“Vil. You know I am quite disappointed.”

The tip of the fountain pen taps against the pristine white documents, each paper in some way tied to the never-ending business and work that’s conducted by the small Schoenheit Family, made up of the Head of the House, his new wife, and his two sons.

His eldest son, Vil Schoenheit, stands before him. Dressed in a simple button-up and slacks, his blonde hair in a low bun except for the purposeful loose strands that frame the sides of his face. Lilac eyes express nothing, as pink-painted lips press tightly together. The room was dimly lit with little light filtering in through the large violet window shades. A thick, dark oak desk was placed in the furthest part of the room, separating the two.

The silence between them grows more tense with each passing moment, as the head of the family lets out another annoyed sigh. Wishing to be occupied with signing papers alone, then having to deal with the son of his late ex-wife. The shadows prevent the head’s face from being seen, but Vil knows—his father has his always disappointed face engraved into his memory—he knows that his father is scowling. Like he always does. Scowling with disappointed eyes and disappointed lips.

The air, thick and cold—frigid upon Vil’s elegant skin, forcing him to remain present, then allowing his mind to wander to more savory things instead of listening to his father’s long lectures. The pen taps again, showing a bit of his father’s impatience, which is always short. Since Vil was a child, his father has never been patient. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed.

“I apologize,” Vil bows, placing a hand over his heart, “but there was not much else I could do. Time got away from me...”

The chair beneath his father creaks as he leans forward with a scoff, “The time got away? You—who is insistent upon keeping track of all things I do. Ready to undermine me at all chances.” Vil’s father lets out a tired sigh. “Just like your mother would, always trying to correct—” He speaks under his breath, placing his pen down, his hand pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yet time got away from you.”

The blonde brows of Vil’s face scrunch, his glossed lips pulling into a deep scowl, standing straight once again, his arms crossing. “Leave my mother out of this. You tormented her enough when she was here.”

“Do not get smart with me boy!” His father’s hand slams against his desk, creating a firm and echoing sound that seems to shake the very room, Vil bites back any words, watching the multitude of books, pens, pencils, and décor topple off the desk. Vil does nothing. Keeping his posture straight and unamused, eyes firm and staring. His father’s hands clenching and stretching, fixing his wedding band subconsciously, breathing heavily.

“Pick my things up, boy.” Vil’s father’s voice is firm, watching with glaring eyes as Vil’s shoulders drop, slowly sliding down and onto his knees and picking up the multiple objects and placing them back on his desk. Vil’s father proceeds to speak, staring down at his son.

“If time has gotten away from you—then you simply force my hand Vil.”

The chair creaks. His father rises from his seat and pulls out a black envelope with gold writing. He flicks the envelope from his hand, watching it flutter before landing on the wooden flooring, forcing Vil, on his knees, to reach for it, on all fours. Like a dog.

‘Vil Schoenheit’

Written in beautiful gold cursive, Vil recognizes exactly who the letter is from immediately having received a letter occasionally from the family. The Royal Draconia family. He rises to his feet, placing the objects back in place and returning where he stood. Looking over the letter in silence.

“Because I cannot trust you to act reasonably and properly, you will host this year’s courting season.” His father speaks again, straightening his hair and clothing. Vil’s gaze moves up to his father, scowling deeply.

“The courting season is in less than three months. Everyone has already made preparations for the Al-Asims to host. And I have talked to the head of the family, and he is more than happy to let you host.” Vil’s father sits back down, before waving his hand in a shooing motion, “Now go. I’m tired of looking at you.” Vil gives another curt bow, biting back any vile words that wished to escape his lips. Turning on his heel and walking out of his father’s office.

Closing the heavy oak door with a hard slam, keeping his displeased scowl, any servants were quick to move out of his way, keeping their heads low. He walks the lavish white halls quickly, steps muffled by the thick violet carpets, he holds the letter tightly. His huntsman appears beside him in stride, a small smile across his lips. Unbothered by Vil’s scowl and furrowed brows.

“Bon après-midi, mon Seigneur, pourquoi un air renfrogné orne-t-il le beau visage d’une personne?” Vil stops immediately in place, turning to his huntsman, holding up the envelope, and watching his personal guard nod in immediate understanding.

“He has not only forced me to my hands and knees like a dog but has also saddled me with preparing this year’s courting season. Even went so far as to ask the Draconia family, he has absolutely made a fool of me.” Vil’s voice is low, dripping with venom, before resuming his walk, his steps long and fast, his guard follows easily. Dressed casually in his familiar brown feathered hat upon his head.

“How would you like to begin planning?”

“Have letters sent out—Courting with take place at the Pomefiore Manor. I’ll have father regret ever forcing my hand.”

══════ •✦• ══════

“Master Robyn!”

The wind blows softly through the sunlit manor grounds, rustling the vibrant green grass and forest leaves as two figures crouch in the bushes, out of sight and view of the frantic middle-aged maid who was shouting for them. Trying to rush down the stone stairs, but also afraid to fall, leaving her to grip the ends of her black dress and white apron as she sidestepped down the steps. Swatting away at the two large dogs that yap and bark as they bound up and down the steps, messing with her as she tries to shoo them away.

There’s a handmade animal target made of hay and cloth that stands unmoving, placed in the very center of the grassy field. Something the maid is utterly oblivious to, as small hands grip the wooden bow, a hand-crafted gift made for the young brother of the Locksley house, with his name elegantly engraved along the handle.

“Ignore her.”

The master of the house’s voice is quiet, with a hint of playfulness as he tucks a strand of rose-red hair behind his ear, crouching low as he adjusts his brother’s aim. Once again, the maid shouts, which earns a snicker from the younger boy, as the Head of the house grins. Both the brothers are quite used to her panicked shouts, having grown to know the difference between her actual urgent calls and her simple faux panic that she at times sends herself into over the smallest changes.

“Do I shoot now, brother?” His brother’s voice is playful, glancing up at his brother with eager eyes, waiting for the release command. A moment passes before the eldest looks at his younger brother, giving a short nod.

“Shoot.”

The young brother does, the arrow zipping through the bushes and shooting straight into the fake deer’s neck, sending the puppet flying over. The maid shrieks in fear and surprise, nearly dropping whatever she was holding, as the dogs bark happily, rushing over to the straw dummy and pouncing on it. The younger brother immediately jumped with a cheer, revealing his hiding spot as he rushed over to the puppet.

“That was like 15 yards away, brother! And the arrow went zoom!” The young child holds out his arm, pretending it was the arrow and how it flew, nearly falling over from the extra momentum and the dogs that jump and bump into his small frame.

“Master Jay, please be careful!”

The maid, a middle-aged woman with dark brown hair and white streaks, holds the ends of her skirt as she rushes across the field, her plump peach-colored face flushed. Jay ignores her completely, entertaining himself with the dogs and the straw deer, chasing them around with it.

“Marjorie, he is alright.”

She nearly jumps 10 feet in the air, turning around and coming face to face with the master of the house, Robyn Locksley. Who has a small smile, resting a firm, gentle hand on her shoulder with an apologetic grin and laugh. “You almost gave me a heart attack.” She presses her palms against her fast-beating heart, and he gives her a moment to gain her breath as he fixes the runaway strays of her hair, watching his brother from the corner of his eyes, watching Jay play happily with their two black and white hunting dogs.

“You called for me earlier. Was something wrong?”

Robyn holds out his arm, allowing the maid, one he’s known since childhood, to interlock their arms as they walk around the grassy field. She was the main maid in charge of Robyn’s everything, making sure that he had everything he could likely need, while his parents spent days away from the manor. Leaving their young son alone for days on end, a habit that didn’t change at the surprise arrival of Jay Locksley, who was born when Robyn was only sixteen.

So, while Marjorie took care of him, Robyn took care of Jay. Even after the Locksley name was ruined, all due to his father’s negligence and his mother’s embarrassment, who fled the moment it was declared by the Draconia Family that Robert Locksley had ruined their wealth and discarded their name and found dead in an alley in the next town over. Though his mother, Jane, died six years ago in a carriage accident.

Neither of the sons of Robert and Jane attended the funeral, at the request of her third husband.

“Goodness me! I almost forgot! Well, news has it that the courting season has changed from the Al-Asim Family to the Schoenheit Family, at the last minute’s notice—”

Robyn nods, giving an occasional hum as he listens. Knowing that it was better off to simply ramble on about whatever news and or drama she gained, speaking about all the speculated drama behind the sudden decision. Cause to her, quick and unusual change is never good.

Though Robyn is curious. A sudden change three months before courting season, he can imagine quite the mad faces of some of the more prominent families. Having to rearrange everything to fit the more regal attitude the Schoenheit’s had, instead of the more freeing vibe that the Al-Asim’s conveyed.

“It could possibly be tied to Kalim Al-Asim and his secret lover?” Robyn holds back a laugh but is not unable to stop a sly smile from spreading across his lips.

“I assume it is another story from the market?” Robyn watches her face go slightly pink, making Robyn know immediately that he’s correct. He laughs, watching her wave him off in a playful fashion. “All rumors hold a bit of truth.”

“That they do.”

They continue walking, Marjorie going back to her conjectures, Robyn adding input here and there, his bright blue eyes gazing along the gardens located on the side of the house, the grassy ground shifting into gravel, crossing past a flowery hedge into the fruit and vegetable gardens. His eyes surveyed each plant, silently searching for any growing berries and fresh, vibrant tomatoes. After finding nothing of interest, his gaze moves to the thick tree line that surrounded the entire Locksley Manor. Located on the furthest outskirts of the large bustling town, hidden within the green land forests. Marjorie continues,

“And it is to be held at the Pomefiore Manor!” Robyn turns to her, his full attention, his brows pulling together in shock and surprise. The Schoenheit family had two famous manors, the Schoenheit Manor where all events are held in relation to the family, and the Pomefiore Manor.

“The one in the Northern Mountains?” The maid nods, stopping in her tracks and pulling away as she rummages through her pockets, retrieving an elegant letter, and placed it in Robyn’s hands.

Pomefiore Manor is a manor of pure and utter elegance hidden within the towering northern mountains and shielded by flurries of never-ending winters. No one except the Schoenheit Family to be allowed that deep into the mountains. Others have tried, but none ever returned alive.

“Such an odd location... And so last minute...”

Robyn mutters under his breath, he’s spent time reading about the mountains and the mysterious snowstorm that follows, some say it was caused by a jealous queen who lost her love to another, and her cold bitter hurt would make those that once stood in her way suffer. While more logical, researchers blamed it on a strange influx of magic that forced the storm to never end. His gaze moves down to Marjorie, watching her anxious-filled expression. Robyn gently presses a hand against her head, his lips curling into a smile.

“I’ll be alright. I was invited, so there should be no worries.”

“You’ll be away for six months. Oh dear,” She leans against Robyn, leaning her full weight against him like a mother would her very own son. He allows her, indulging in the slight smell of honey that surrounds her. Marjorie continues to ramble as she pulls away. Robyn watches her talk aloud, speaking to herself, then to others.

“How would I ever—you’re off to getting married? I need to prepare. We only have three months—Dear Seven—” You watch her walk from the garden and towards the back of the house. Robyn follows behind her, slipping the letter into his pants pocket, as he watches her climb up the stone steps, still speaking to herself, stepping into the manor, clearly in her own world.

“What’s courting season?”

Jay pops up beside the young master of the house, holding a long stick, watching Marjorie before wide blue eyes look up at Robyn, dirt, and grass decorating his clothing. Robyn lets out a low hum, roughing up his brother’s hair, ignoring the gentle ‘hey!’, as Jay tries to duck away.

“It’s like a long party. I’ll be looking for a spouse—Though,” The master of the house trails off, a grin spreading across his lips, watching Jay try to fix his short messy red hair, that’s always messy, even after Robyn spends 15 minutes in front of a mirror, trying to style his unruly hair before giving up. Watching Jay try and slick his hair back, squinting his eyes to look cool, making Robyn laugh when the hair practically bounced back into place.

“—I’ll be away for six months.”

The two siblings walk side by side. Jay, with similar bright blue eyes, bounds happily beside his sibling, attracting the attention of the playful hunting dogs, who zip and dart between the two.

“For six months... That is a long, long time.” Robyn’s brother sways as he walks, purposely bumping into his brother, who uses his hand to entertain the dogs, feeling them playfully nip and bite at his fingers, and chasing the siblings as they walk.

“It is—You will be alright; Marjorie and Arthur will take of you.”

Marjorie and Arthur are the only two remaining maids and butlers to the Locksley Estate. The two manage everything within the large, empty manor. Marjorie is in charge of the inside of the manor, while Arthur handles all outer duties. Occasionally, the two siblings help in secret, dusting and sweeping, maintaining the gardens, and handling the large dogs.

“But it’ll be lonely without you—”

Jay wraps his arms around his brother’s waist, stopping the two in their tracks, Robyn gently combing his fingers through his brother’s hair. His lips pulled into a frown, the last few years, since the fall of the Locksley name, everything has been nothing but hectic, meaning Robyn missed his other courting season, leaving him with only this year and the next before he’s considered ineligible, which could possibly leave the two homeless. And though every fiber in his being wants to remain with his brother—nor does he truly desire a spouse—this is one of his ‘noble’ duties.

“I’ll visit. Once a month, if possible... Our situation is no secret.”

Jay is aware of their social standing. Aware of who exactly their parents were, Robyn had no reason to paint his parents in a good light. Sparing no expense to hide the truth in bits and pieces. Jay knows they’re nobles with no riches, nobles alone in status, merely because King Draconia pitied them, and swore that they could properly regain their title if Robyn worked and proved that the Locksley family was worth helping.

Though becoming a proper noble matters little to none to the Head of the Family, it’s merely a title that comes with a following never-ending headache, and if Robyn could—he very well would rid himself of it. Yet, he crouches to his brother’s level, his hands gently squeezing his shoulders. Jay’s eyes look glossed over in worry, his bottom lip poking out as he frowns.

“You’ll be in my thoughts. Always.”

Robyn Locksley has a brother to protect, to care for, whom he loves more than any other. His only family—besides Marjorie and Arthur—and closest friend. Jay nods, his pouting lips curling into a small mischievous smile as his hands tug at the bottom of his shirt. “Then—Can you help me shoot some more?”

Robyn gasps, clearly being tricked by his brother, “I knew those tears were fake!”

Robyn attacks his brother in a flurry of tickles, bringing his sibling into his embrace, wrestling Jay in his arms, causing him to giggle and laugh, fighting back and losing terribly. “No! No! Robyn! Please!” He shouts in between giggles, the dogs barking and yapping happily, knocking over both Robyn and Jay as they practically pounce onto the two, sending them all to the floor, giving Jay a chance to wiggle and squirm away, darting away in a fit of laughs and giggles. Robyn kneels in the grass, green blades coating parts of his clothing, hair, and face, hands resting on his knees. Jay sticks out his tongue, urging the dogs to come get him, leaving Robyn alone for a moment.

Courting Season.

It’s six months long and, unlike any of the other bachelors and bachelorettes, who flaunt and flounce, wearing their name proudly, the Locksley family cannot. ‘If not for myself... then for you,’ Jay darts around with the dogs, smile large and blue eyes happily wide. Robyn can’t remember the last time he’s seen his brother so happy, the last time he’s been so present. Not simply sparing a glance, but spending a moment with his brother after his long trips, to only leave again.

Trying to undo all his father did. Trying to prove his worth to the ever-reigning Draconia Family, who at any moment displeased with Robyn Locksley, could take everything away. Robyn pushes off the ground, wiping off the dirt and grass, his gaze turning to the large house. Whatever connection Robyn felt, whatever love for the manor—whatever love for his Locksley name ceased to exist years ago. It’s nothing but a house within his name, but to Jay—even as he knows the truth, the manor means something to him. That represents something that Robyn is quite unsure of.

“Master Robyn! Master Jay! Lunch is ready!” Marjorie’s voice shouts aloud, carrying a tray out and to the sitting area located at the top of the stairs, Arthur helping her keep the glass doors open.

Jay immediately is on his feet, racing towards the garden stairs, the two hunting dogs yapping and running after the young boy. A short happy huff lips past Robyn’s lips, walking towards the manor with a small smile.

══════ •✦• ══════

Courting Season.

A season in which all elegant bachelors and bachelorettes take a break from the pressures of society, gathering together to expand their family name and grow their riches by finding a spouse. There are no expectations of love, but connections. That is the goal, to connect and grow. Win it all or lose everything. Failure results in shame, and the Draconia refuses to have shame attached to them.

Courting Season is divided into two, the Spring Court and the Summer Court.

The Spring Court [March, April, May]:

The Court of Spring is the beginning of all festivities and gives a chance for everyone to scope out potential suitors and enjoy the fun without absolute commitment.

For most of the spring, the bachelors and bachelorettes remain separate. Getting to know one another and gaining companions. The more socially accepted you are, the less likely you’ll have competition in finding a good partner.

The Summer Court [June, July, August]:

The Court of Summer, this is the latter half of all festivities. During this time, one should already have mutually picked their suitor for the last three months, spending this time to bond more, whether romantically or for future business endeavors.

At this point, most have selected their main interest and attempt to spend the latter half trying to know them. While others, pleased with their connections but have no desire for romance, spend the last three months enjoying the festivities, but must show a sign that they are out of the running and uninteresting.

Origin of Courting Season: Created and in placed by one of the great kings of Briar Valley, as a way to keep the rich with the rich and keep the poor with the poor.

This idea has changed very little over time, due to the expansion of how many noble families exist beneath Draconia’s control.

ACT TWO:

“This above all; to thine own self be true.” - Shakespeare

The Huntsman can’t help but smile, turning his gaze to the growing crowd, as carriages of different sizes and colors move in staggered lines, traveling up the rocky dirt road, lined with elegant floral bushes, filling the air with the gentle scents of lavender and jasmine, guiding them towards the gleaming manor of violet, white, and gold. Feeling the cool spring air bite at his cheeks, he slides off the towering tree branch, falling to the ground in simply ease. Emerald eyes subtly memorized each landau that stood out before landing on a bright red and gold wooden carriage, pulled by two elegant black stallions.

“J’aime bien celui-là.”

══════ •✦• ════════════ •✦• ══════

This is the beauty of the Pomefiore Manor.

It is a celebratory night, the first night of Courting Season, the first night before everyone is separated for the first three months. Yet that is the farthest thought from everyone’s mind. For some, it is their first time away from home, away from the suffocation of their titles. For others, this is a usual scene and a moment for them to take a break from their hectic life and bask in simplicity. For others, this is business, not a vacation.

DEAR ROBYN LOCKSLEY,

Greetings from the Draconia Family.

We hope all is well and wish you a very joyful and eventful courting season. May the odds be in your favor, and you find the perfect lover. We have written to you to speak gaily and thank you for all of your dedicated help, but we are also afraid that even after years of service, it is simply not enough. Your father was quite the foolish man and was built quite the debt, one you must repay. So sadly, I’m afraid that if you do not find a spouse of higher rank, you will be stripped of your title and all assets. Now don’t fear, this courting season is quite an extraordinary one, so have fun, be merry. For this might be your last time.

Best Wishes,

THE DRACONIA FAMILY

The words of the letter remain heavy upon his brain. Any formalities slipped out moreso on instinct than purpose, and barely remembering the faces of the different women and men that introduced themselves. Doing well to speak to the noble, only in name, rather than earned purpose. Which Robyn knows, aware of his name being spread across the ballroom like an uncontrolled wildfire, as others send him curious looks.

Looks he does well to ignore.

This had been on his mind for the last three months, in between preparations for his long journey, and making sure finances were in order. Making sure that Jay, Marjorie, and Arthur had all they needed while he was gone. He spent the days spending time with his brother, promising that six months would pass quickly that before they knew it, they’d be together again in the fall. While in the late night, he remained glued to his desk, furiously writing letters to different nobles and businessmen, trying to build any sort of safety net if he did fail in the task appointed by the Draconia Family. Spending nights within his bed, rereading the letter over and over.

Half of him wanted to make the unprompted journey to the Draconia Castle, demanding to speak with the King. Urge them to give him more tasks. To let him find some way to at least make sure his brother and the only two servants that he had were all right and cared for.

Though Robyn is certain that their solution would have Jay work for them. Not only does he lose the title of noble, but becomes a poorly treated servant. That thought alone forced Robyn to remain in the manor, doing well so as to not frighten the others.

He shakes the thought from his head. Suddenly very aware of his facial expressions, he forces a relaxed smile. Turning his gaze upon the crowded ballroom. Spotting some familiar faces and some not. Each and all dressed in the finest of silks and jewels, all wanted to show off to the Schoenheit heir, who has yet to make himself known.

Robyn stands against the towering white marble walls. As flickers of white and gold flames give way to bright light, placed upon hanging crystal chandeliers, as shoes tap and float against the polished floors. Dancing away with whoever filled their fancy, away from prying, judgmental eyes, with hands entwined and bodies close, dancing to the lovely orchestra.

Everyone during courting season has something to gain and something to hide.

The musicians, people that Robyn is sure that they have been alive far longer than him and have more than mastered the dark oak string instruments. The Locksley Head is certain that the orchestra is most definitely a gift from the Draconia Family. Seeing as no noble would accept less than the best, though Robyn is unsure of the last time he’s heard a live orchestra.

He holds the crystal flute glass, one practically forced into his hand the moment he stepped into the ballroom, occasionally sipping its sweet savory flavor that sends tingles down his tongue after every taste. There’s a subtle underlying flavor of alcohol. Yet the sweet flavor overpowers it greatly. He’s sure that there will be a few who make the mistake of drinking downing drink after drink.

Robyn softly sways to the music, far more interested in the different people, each seemingly comfortable in this environment. Not to say he hates dancing or even festivities, but it’s more enjoyable with someone, is it not?

Robyn’s blue eyes shifted across the enormous crowd that formed around the ballroom dance floor, mingling and gossiping—laughing at their own jokes and discussing the future events. Each within their own right, amazed with how elegant the first night seems to be, when Vil Schoenheit only had three months to prepare. While others knew that the moment Vil Schoenheit sent out invitations with a bouquet, that this year’s courting season—Vil Schoenheit's final courting season would be extravagant.

“Such a shame to only watch and never mingle—Though one can find beauty in simply people watching.”

The voice is like a cool summer breeze and has Robyn shuddering—once for the sudden cold and another out of pure surprise. A man, young, with short blonde hair, pulled into a low ponytail, and deep green eyes that betrayed nothing of his thoughts nor actions, but only showed his curiosity and amusement. He wears simple clothing, tight black pants, a white button-up shirt, and a black corset vest with green lace embellishments, with a simple black belt and a bow and quiver attached to his back.

Robyn glances over his form once more, before landing on his face. He’s watching the crowd. He can tell the strange man is a huntsman. The ends of Robyn’s lips curl. “People are the finest works of art.”

“Ils sont vraiment,” the huntsman says nothing more with a merry hum, occasionally glancing at the young nobleman, but keeping his gaze focused on the smiling faces of the people.

“From the way you’re dressed, you do not seem like a noble?” Robyn’s words make the man chuckle, earning his full attention, unlike before. He wears a bright smile, pressing a hand over his heart as he bows.

“That I am not. I am Rook Hunt, personal guard and huntsman to Vil Schoenheit.”

Robyn’s eyes widen at his words, watching Rook stand straight, a still amused smile upon his lips. “May I ask what gave me away, Mr. Robyn Locksley?”

“You know who I am?”

“Who would not? You arrived in such a crimson carriage. Such a red is quite beautiful.” Emerald eyes dart up to his hair, before resting back on Robyn’s face, unafraid of eye contact. Robyn lets out a low huff like laugh, crossing his arms, and tilting his head to the side. “You asked how I knew—”

“Oui.”

“You are simply underdressed.” The words make the huntsman laugh, a few eyes turning in their direction for the sudden loud laugh, unaware of the two.

“Such a simple fact and yet gave so much away. Tu es vraiment fascinant.” Rook wipes away imaginary tears, giving another shallow bow, as if apologizing. “Forgive me of my outburst, it is not often one speaks to me so freely.”

“Freely?” Darting past Robyn’s curiosity, his smile unfaltering, “You spoke as people being art, then we stand in a museum of moving pieces.”

A museum of moving pieces. Robyn follows Rook’s gaze, watching the crowd move and dance. No one is in the same position as before, some with their arms crossed when they once talked animatedly, some who drink when they once were eating.

“So much passes in so little time. How can one truly appreciate it without a photo?” How can one fully enjoy a moment when a moment so quickly passes? Robyn’s gaze moves to his flute glass, watching the bubbles form and pop, before turning his gaze back towards the crowd.

“That is the beauty of it.” Rook tears his eyes away, green eyes filled with so much honesty. For a moment, Robyn swears he sees Jay’s honest eyes. It has been so long since he’s met someone who’s so true to themselves.

“You speak of…” The words come out heavy, and weigh heavily upon his tongue, “beauty quite often… Why?”

Rook takes a moment to answer, though Robyn is certain that the huntsman doesn’t need a moment to think of response, but moreso for affect. “That is my life pursuit… To find beauty in all things.” Robyn’s eyes move towards the orchestra, watching them happily play, caught up in the melodies of their own music. He thinks back to the letter, one he folded and shoved into the deepest parts of his temporary dresser, unable to swallow the bitterness of it all. Robyn lets out a soft sigh, taking a large gulp of his drink, before speaking.

“In theory that would be easy… To find beauty in everything… Yet how do you look past the negative to see beauty?”

“You do not.” The Huntsman answers with ease, rocking on his heels with a smile, laughing at Robyn’s confused expression. “You take all for how it is and how it will be. Negativity is a fluid emotion—no one can avoid it, so you must learn how to see it for what it is. People will always have negativity—that is one of life’s absolutes. Yet that is not all people can be…”

“So, you find beauty in those that experience it and move past it?”

“And those who cannot—il y a de la beauté dans l’angoisse.”

Robyn finishes the bubbly drink, placing the crystal flute glass on the tray of a passing by servant, before turning to Rook with a grin. “I quite enjoy your company,” Robyn face slightly flushed, feeling the gentle buzz of alcohol in his system, yet he doesn’t stop, offering out a hand.

“May I ask you to accompany me to the gardens?”

══════ •✦• ══════

“Master Vil, many are awaiting your arrival.”

A short maid bows deeply keeping her face hidden as the Schoenheit heir finishes his hair. Pulled into a simple bun, adorned with crystals and jewels. His pink painted lips pressed together, fingers elegantly fixing the golden chain of his necklace.

“Tell me, has father said anything about the courting season?” His voice is low, while the elegant makeup brush is carefully dragged across the lid of his eye, unbothered to even look at the shuddering maid, who’s dressed in simply black and white, keeping herself in Vil’s shadow.

“He—um—The Master spoke of annoyance and disappointment, yet has said nothing else, Master Vil.”

Coating the purple eye shadow across his eyes, before switching to black eyeliner, he speaks again. “That is good, I suppose,” he moves to his other eye, “And have you seen Rook? I give him a moment to see all who has arrived, and he takes the time to simply go missing.” Vil speaks to himself before letting out a sigh, switching from the black eye shadow to a deep purple. He speaks directly to his maid.

“I am aware he has been mingling with guests, yet has yet returned, where is he?”

“Um, the gardens, I believe. He is entertaining Master Robyn Locksley.” Vil pulls the brush from his eye, staring at the two perfectly matching eyes, before placing the brush down and for once, turning to fully look at the maid. His blonde brows furrowed and lips in a low grimace.

“Robyn Locksley… If I am correct, he is a noble in name and of nothing else.” There is slight venom in his words, standing up from his vanity and towards the full-length mirror, once again checking to make sure his outfit is in order. The maid makes sure to stand behind him, keeping her hand over her heart and legs crossed in a low curtsy.

“Yes, that he is. But many say that the reason is due to Robyn Locksley having close ties to the Draconia Family. Which is why he is able to retain his title. Rumors say that it was Lord Malleus himself who gifted the Locksley with the crimson red carriage. Which has caught a lot of attention, I am certain that Master Robyn will have quite many who seek him.”

Vil clicks his tongue, heels clicking as he returns to his vanity, picking up the black eye liner, “I do not like rumors, yet if there is any truth in this—I assure you, Robyn Locksley has caught my attention.” He speaks under his breath, adding the wings onto his eyes, before clearing his throat.

“Prepare for my arrival. I want not a soul missing.”

ⓒ 2023 cvlutos — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

#t.manor.writings #t.manor.commissions #twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #rook hunt #Vil Schoenheit #original character #rook hunt x vil Schoenheit #rook hunt x oc #vil schoenheit x oc #rook x oc #vil x oc #rook x vil x oc #rook x vil #bridgerton au #twst x oc #twisted wonderland x oc #twst oc

[firedrakegirl]

Pheobe was focused on her writing, a single earbud in and playing music to drown out some of the sounds of the cafe. Her tea had long since gone cold and her posture resembled a question mark more than a person. She was on a roll and didn’t look up until someone gently tapped the table across from her.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here? The other tables are full.” The man had long dark hair and enchanting emerald eyes. He had a divine aura, but seemed to be trying half heartedly to hide it.

Between being pulled from her hyper focused state and the anxiety of suddenly being addressed, she froze up. After far too long a moment of his watching her expectantly, she nodded and blushed.

He sat across from her with his cup of coffee and his eyes rolled over her form. “Thank you. You can call me Loke.”

“Phoebe. It’s nice to meet you.” She managed to get out. She straightened up to offer him a hand to shake and her entire spine sounded like rice crispies.

“Are you quite alright?” Concern lit his eyes. There was something odd about how he was sitting in the chair.

“Mmhm. Just haven’t moved in a while. Would you mind watching my things for a moment?”

When he nodded, she stood and went to the restroom before getting in line for a fresh cup of tea. Sadly, she hadn’t inherited her mother’s fire powers, so she needed a fresh cup instead of reheating it. When she sat back down and met his gaze, she blushed brightly. “I got too into writing and when you distracted me it was like I got all the status effects ever. Had to pee, needed a drink, need to eat, etc.” she rambled before blushing more. “Sorry, you didn’t need all that information.”

The god’s face broke into a smile and he shook his head. “You mortals never cease to amuse. What are you writing?”

“Oh, just a silly little story. Nothing all that interesting or exciting. Just a way to relax after work and away from my real life, you know?” She observed him as he listened to her and then it hit her. He was trying to mimic the humans in the cafe. His upper body was in a similar posture to all the business folk who would work all day here, but his lower body’s posture was far more casual. She had to hide the chuckle. He was trying to mesh with the humans, with no idea of how to actually do so.

“Sounds interesting. Care to tell me more?” He sipped at his coffee too casually, like he was savoring a rare treat.

“It’s the story of a human princess who finds herself in an arranged marriage with a demon spider prince. Shes terrified of him at first, but then finds that a lot of the way she thought about his people was all misconception and misinformation. Eventually they fall in love and confound everyone who thought it would be an uncomfortable political marriage.” She summarized, shrugging a little. “It’s all kinds of silly tropes and chaos and not the most logical, but I enjoy it.”

“A princess and a demon spider. Thats not a story you hear about every day. Midgardians are so creative with their stories.”

“Oh, we really are.” She couldn’t help but agree. “Do you enjoy stories?”

“Very much. Where I come from, most of them are tales of wars and battles, so the changes here are a delight. I can find stories in all kinds of topics here.”

“Isn’t it wonderful?”

They continued to talk through several more cups of tea and coffee, several pastries, and her laptop dying. Eventually, the cafe was closing.

“Would you like to meet again sometime?” Loke asked hopefully.

“Oh absolutely. Let me write down my number for you.” Phoebe quickly scribbled it on a bit of paper from her pocket notebook. She handed it over as she packed up. “Next time you’ll have to tell me what you’re the god of.” She winked at him as she stood and walked out of the cafe before he could reply.

#fire’s writings and drabbles #mcu loki #fanfic #oc #pheobe is an oc #demigoddess too #her father is Phobos #god of phobias and war-fears #and her mother is an old oc #who’s the adopted daughter of Hades who earned immortality #one shot

[riddles-n-games]

Now that you've read the brothers Hawthorne, do you have any averyjameson headcanons or theories?

Hmm, first theory: Jameson's revelation to Avery about Prague will be a major plot line for them in discovering another incident like the Hawthorne Island fire but not covered in The Grandest Game. It might mean that at some point or another, Prague will be a destination to revisit and who knows, maybe a continent-wide European adventure for our fave duo and this time with all the brothers included. In the meantime, I think they will be too busy setting up the Grandest Game but I believe they will try their best to look into the situation and see what they can find out just nothing major yet. Maybe Avery will ask Toby if he knows anything but I don't know if she will feel like she is risking him because of Eve's takeover of the Blake fortune.

My second theory is that between TBH and TGG they will go to Scotland and stay at Vantage, perhaps also have a more formal introduction to the Johnstone-Jameson family while they're there. Kind of hope that Jamie gets to meet his grandmother. Something just tells me his next big plot might revolve around both his grandmothers since his paternal grandmother was also mentioned quite a bit because of Vantage so I can't help thinking JLB wants us to infer something important there. Going back to Avery and Jameson, one part that stood out to me was when he brought up the fact that she gave away most of the foreign properties to the foundation and then asked her what she thought of Scottish castles. I'm questioning if he meant it like a question of co-ownership to curate the place together because his uncle did say he would pay for the upkeep of it or if they still hadn't visited the Scottish estate that formerly belonged to his grandfather and so they might make a trip to both Vantage and the Hawthorne property in Scotland because Avery hadn't given that one away yet. I also theorize that when she was about to answer him she was already getting an idea for a dare. Something to do with cliff climbing, likely. Also, that scene when they were running for the cliffside after the first clue was given in the Game, I couldn't help but think of Max's words in The Hawthorne Legacy and it felt like such a callback to that. Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God) would have been such a great song to pair with that scene.

Anyways, onto some headcanons! Headcanon 1: So after their UK trip, Avery starts teasing Jameson about being part British by indirectly messing with him. She randomly makes references to Sherlock Holmes (the one featuring Benedict Cumberbatch, of course), purposefully brings up Downton Abbey at least twice when they're scrolling through shows to watch or just straight up leaves an episode running on the TV when Jameson is in her room (she deliberately goes around a corner and tries to catch a glimpse of his expression but when she does, he always looks stone-faced, better than Grayson's it actually scares her). On karaoke nights, she always chooses a British singer's song for him to sing when it's his turn (mostly One Direction and Adele). For his birthday, she invited a bunch of famous British actors and singers (she actually managed to get 1D to get reunited for that and if Max, Xander, and Jameson weren't the biggest fangirls that night🤭). Avery also begins calling him nicknames like Your Highness, Duke, His Excellency, etc. He just rolls his eyes every time. In other attempts to rile him up, she uses British slang and tells him that he should be inclined to use more of it now that they know he’s part Brit. Meanwhile, on her birthday, he got her back by getting a real tiara (with Oren’s help, duh) for her to wear for the day and it was made with emerald and orange topaz gemstones. She took it with grace and they had a Cinderella moment when they danced in the Great Room alone after everyone left.

Headcanon 2: On a more serious note, some days, Jameson’s mind gets occupied by thoughts of his father and he gets really quiet and withdrawn from everyone. Usually, in those situations, he ends up on the roof and with the knife in hand, constantly twirling it. While everybody else leaves him alone, Avery finds him up there and she never says anything, just comes up to him and hugs him from behind (Jameson secretly loves her hugs a lot). They stay like that for a while, in complete silence, until he turns around and hugs her back but not without a forehead kiss. Then, he’d take her hand and trace little symbols onto her hand with his thumb. Some she would recognize, others are just random. It becomes their unspoken version of Tahiti as they try decoding what the other signs.

Headcanon 3: Since the night he told his secret to Avery, Jameson’s mind often wanders back to his grandmother and his grandfather’s words about the way a Hawthorne man loves: only once and never frivolously. He reflects on his grandfather’s love for his grandmother, Toby's love for Hannah, and then looks at his own relationship with Avery. Although he wouldn't tell a soul, it's obvious enough that he seems settled on her and just knows she's the one. She is his endgame. There would never be anyone like her, not before like Emily and no one after. One day, he takes her to the treehouse and tells her what his grandfather told him and Grayson that Fourth of July a few years back, the Christmas that they got the treehouse and why it looked the way it does now. Avery just listens and at the end asks him, "So, what now? You have that look in your eye." Jameson tells her he plans to have the treehouse fixed, to add more stuff than there was before, make it better than the old man made it originally. Then, he tells her that he's been thinking about them and everything that happened so far and she's a bit confused where he's going with it until he pulls out a promise ring. Avery is taken aback, reasonably so, but she accepts it and finds on the inside that it says Heads or Tails, calling back to the way they started their relationship and they kiss.

Hope you enjoyed this!

#jameson winchester hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #avery grambs #averyjameson #hawthorne shenanigans #hawthorne headcanons #the inheritance games theories #tig theories #the inheritance games thoughts #the brothers hawthorne spoilers #tbh spoilers #the inheritance games #the brothers hawthorne #the grandest game #tig #tbh #tgg