sextape, jean kirstein

26, 𝐌𝐈𝐗.

( 𝗦𝗘𝗫𝗧𝗔𝗣𝗘, 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗜𝗜 )

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐗
" MIX. "

SHE GOT A BODY LIKE AN HOURGLASS,
BUT I CAN GIVE IT TO YOU ALL THE TIME.
SHE GOT A BOOTY LIKE A CADILLAC BUT I CAN
SEND YOU INTO OVERDRIVE, OH.

spicy.

Jean sighs, throwing down his luggage in his living room lazily. He was happy to be home where he could finally be in his own place again. Although there were boxes everywhere, as he hadn't had a second chance to prepare to move again before they left to film.

His mother would probably still be dragging him off to church on Sundays as she normally did, and dogs were waiting for him at his parents house.

The clock read 9.57 pm, and he knew you had probably arrived back to your apartment and fallen asleep, knowing you missed your bed.

Jean falls down over the back of the couch, his mind wandering to you as it always had.

Looking to the side a small hum escapes his lips and he closes his eyes.

She's sleeping. Yeah.

Sure enough you were asleep on Reiner's shoulder in the back of a taxi cab, him staring out the window and occasionally taking quick glances to the side to see if you had woken up.

Eventually he had to wake you up and drag you up to your apartment and make sure that you didn't fall over in the elevator.

"Yes, yes, thank you Reiner. I'll see you.. later." You smile sleepily, patting him on the shoulder.

Yawning, you lock the door as Reiner backs up with a small wave goodbye.

No lights in your apartment were on, all the textbooks and papers you had left on the kitchen counter were still there but you didn't even bother to clean that up, and the white leds around the table the fish tank was on were off.

You practically stumble into your bedroom and flick on the light switch, met with the familiar scent of soft lavender.

You drop your suitcases and backpack onto the carpet and jump onto your bed, inhaling deeply into the pillows. 

But.. you couldn't fall asleep.

You had to be forgetting something.

It was on the tip of your tongue as you listed off everything you've done already. You check the imaginary list in your head, and then it finally hits you.

"Shit." 

Cursing under your breath, you  reach over to the bedside table where you had carelessly disregarded your phone, and struggle to unlock it. 

Finally getting it open, you search around for the 'facetime' icon.

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