Don't Get the Wrong Idea, I Just Want Sex
Cielle's Amour
JeanSasha; Hints of other pairings
10. Split Apart
"Jean, what's wrong?" Sasha glanced over at him, hands combing up her brown hair into a ponytail.
"Nothing," he quickly responded, shoving his phone into his pocket. He leaned back into his desk chair, his eyes glazing over as if pondering.
"Mmm…you're sure secretive today." She crawled her way off the bed to his chair and wrapped her arms over his shoulders. She leaned in closer, teasing him. "Don't tell me you have another girl on the side?" She laughed, giving him a short peck on the cheek.
He stayed silent and pursed his lips.
She widened her eyes at this, and yelled a bit too strongly, "Wait! Are you serious—!"
Jean lightly flicked her forehead with a finger. "Of course not, stupid."
"Then what's wrong?"
"Nothing," he swatted her away.
"Tell meeee—!" She clung to him harder, swaying his body left to right and back.
"Geez!" Lifting himself and Sasha up from the chair, he flipped her over to a bridal carry. "Will you quit bothering me about this if I buy you some food?"
The brunette sighed, but caved. "For now."
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"How's the sandwich?" Jean asked, as he sat down on the table bench. He set his soda cup down, popping in the straw through the lid.
"Oh my god, so delicious!" She said through munches. "This place is so fuckin' worth it even though the line's always long!"
"That's good…" he muttered, dejectedly. She tilted her head in confusion. What was wrong with him today?
"Jean," she reached out to touch his hand. His hand twitched and his face turned to disgust. Her heart clenched tightly; could he not stand her anymore? She knew she annoyed him sometimes, but to give her a face like that…she felt anxious. "Do…you feel uncomfortable touching me?" she asked meekly.
"…" He slipped his hand away from her and grabbed a napkin. "You had mustard all over your hand, and you wiped it all over my own, idiot."
"Oh." She hastily grabbed a napkin to clean her hand, her face slightly tinted pink from embarrassment. She was being silly—why did she become so self-conscious all of a sudden?
"Actually, Sasha, I do have something to ask you." His eyes narrowed.
"Finally!" she exclaimed, a wide grin plastered on her face. "Tell me so I can fix all your problems!" She rested her chin on the palms of her hands, leaning in closer to the table.
He cast his face away from hers and frowned. "H-how would you feel…"
"Mm-hm! How would I feel…" Repeating him, she nodded in anticipation.
"…How would you feel if…" His legs fidgeted.
"How would I feel if…we married?" She laughed mockingly, making an impression of a stereotypical career woman[1]. "Oh my, but I would want a man making at least $100k a year, wears a suit, and who gives me a huge ass diamond ri—!"
"How would you feel if I was interested in going out with someone else?"
"Huh?"
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No matter what she did, she couldn't get herself comfortable enough to sleep. Even after she piled pillows into a stack to cushion her head, or turned her comforter sheet on to maximum heat, or bundled herself in her blanket, she tossed and turned restlessly.
"This is better in the long run, isn't it?" she muttered. It's not healthy to be trapped in a relationship like that anyway, she repeated in her head.
"Ah, so frustrating!" She tussled her hair, bits of stray hair sticking outwards. She irritably kicked off the blanket and sat up on her bed. She had to do something to get her tired enough to sleep. Play games? Study? Watch the television?
No, she needed to reflect on her situation; that was the most important thing for her to do at the moment.
She grabbed her jacket on her desk chair, along with her keys, and made her way out of her apartment. "Now where do I walk to at 4 in the morning?" she asked herself, bemused and already discouraged. Not to mention she lived in a college town, and it tended to get pretty rowdy and dangerous, especially during this time of night. She clutched her jacket and shivered, exhaling a sigh of cold air.
She already regretted taking her steps down the stairs, but she didn't want to go back into the warm apartment, either.
After sending a text message to Connie, she flipped her cell closed. She'd rather be walking and chatting with someone that can possibly help her through this time of heartbreak than be alone. But she knew he would be sleeping and there was no way a tiny beep from his cell would wake him up.
Only a few blocks away from her apartment, and she already dredged this whole walk. Sasha stopped at a bench and plopped herself on it, the icy seat causing her to flinch. The splinted pinpricks from the dilapidated wood caused her to uncomfortably lift her body from the bench over and over to make herself comfortable.
She brought her legs to her chest, cursing under her breath about how cold it was. "Really wish someone was here to cuddle with me," she said to particularly no one. Well, that won't be Jean anymore.
"…" She stared out at an empty park. "Stupid Jean. As if I needed you anyway…" She anxiously picked the splints on the bench, flicking them off angrily.
"You're a scumbag, dumbass Kirschstein!" she yelled, accidentally pricking herself on a larger splint. She brought her cut finger to her face, the scratch deep enough to be visible, but not enough to bleed. Tears streamed down her cheeks. At a time like this, Jean would wrap a bandage around her finger, while calling her a careless idiot.
"This really stings…" she murmured.
Her eyes glazed over, and her mind went completely blank. Completely unaware of her surroundings, she felt a large hand on her shoulder, sending a shiver down her spine. She jumped off the bench, and instinctively threw her arms over her head in a protective stance.
"P-Please don't rob me!" Sasha shouted. "I don't have anything on me!"
"Sasha?" A low voice she recognized caused her to slowly glance up. A towering black-haired man stood there, confused, with a plastic bag in one hand.
"Bertl?" Relief washed over her and she instantly rushed over to hug him, wrapping her arms tightly around his lengthy body. "Thank god, you're not a robber or a rapist or a killer!" He must have hesitated, because she felt his arms jitter while they shakily wrapped around her body.
Bertholdt was warm, unbelievably warm. She could fall straight to sleep if they stayed like this. "You should come back to my place, so you could help me get some rest," the brunette joked. She didn't even realize how much that would trigger Bertholdt's heart.
"I-if you really want," he stuttered, shyly.
"I'm joking, haha." She shifted away from him and sat back down on the cold bench. "I'd feel bad if you just babysat me." She motioned him to sit next to her, patting on the wood with her palm.
"I honestly wouldn't mind." He sat down on the bench next to her, straightening out his coat.
"Of course you would say that," Sasha chuckled, flicking off more splinters. "You're so nice that you would let anyone take advantage of you."
"T-that's not true, Sasha…" the tall man whispered.
"Theeen…" She veered off. She poked his arm and smirked. "I command you to come back with me to my place and help me sleep!"
"Sure…" he answered.
Sasha frowned and held her hands behind her head. "See, I told you. You're too nice." She swung her legs back and forth, casually blowing breaths in the air. "By the way, why in the world are you out here so early?"
He raised the plastic bag he previously set on the bench. "I actually went to go buy some painkillers, since I ran out. Studying got too hard without them, so…you know…" he teetered off.
"Oh you, hard-worker, you!" Sasha hugged him teasingly, pressing herself against him. God, he was so comfortable to lean against. She shut her drowsy eyes and mumbled, "You should…tutor me…some time…"
"Sasha…?" She vaguely heard Bertholdt's soft voice, as if he called her from a distance.
She became unaware of what happened next; all she remembered was that she climbed up the stairs back to her apartment, jumbled her keys, stumbled her way to her room, and crashed onto her bed. All the while having someone near her during these events.
Somebody held her close under the bed covers, the feeling so pleasant with large arms draped around her small body—a sensation that made her most content. Maybe Jean came into the apartment and decided to hold her one last time.
Without thinking, she smiled and murmured, "You're so warm, Jean."
When morning came, she woke up with a start, but no one was there beside her.
/-/
"Fine! I guess you win, Kirschstein!" Connie threw his hands up in air, grumbling to himself as he congratulated the man in front of him.
"Just goes to show who's better," Jean smirked.
"Congrats!" Sasha said, throwing in a chuckle after. But I don't actually mean it, she thought.
"It is a little weird you're congratulating him on our relationship," Christa remarked, a dainty smile on her face.
"Yah, it is, huh?" Sasha couldn't say anything better to that. She didn't know how to feel after hearing about Jean's and Christa's relationship together.
Ymir stood there absolutely silent, glaring with such intensity that even made the people around avoid walking near them. It was painfully obvious who she was glowering at.
The brunette just needed to get out of here. Any excuse would do. With a nervous grin, she waved off with a hand. "I've got to study, guys! Let's hang out next time, yah?" Before she could rush off, Ymir placed a hand on her shoulder.
Without looking at Sasha, the taller woman said, "I'll go with you."
"Um, sure," she replied. Sasha smiled at the rest, while waving goodbye, and walked off with the other woman.
In truth, despite how long she knew Ymir for, Sasha felt incredibly intimidated by her. She bossed her around, picked on her, even hit her from time to time. Christa was the only real mediator between them.
"Sasha…" Ymir spoke up in a serious tone. "Let's go to a café and talk about some things. Your treat."
"You mean, 'my treat.'"
"No, I meant, 'your treat.'" She brought her wallet and showed the insides of it to the brunette. It was empty, save for her school ID. Of course, it would be.
"Fine, just let's go in here." A café with mediocre food, but the closest and cheapest—Sasha didn't have that much money to spare.
After they entered inside, Ymir signaled for two with her fingers to the waitress; the waitress, in turn, led them to a rickety table, covered with a striped blue cloth with apparent coffee mug ring stains.
"Orange soda and some fries, please," Sasha said as she placed the menu back to the side of the table.
"What's wrong, fatty, you usually order more!" Ymir snickered, as she skimmed through the menu. The other pursed her lips disapprovingly; her insults really hurt sometimes.
"I'm on a diet…" That was a lie, but whatever.
"I'll have two bacon burgers and a cream soda—"
"Hey!" Sasha could actually eat two of them too—no problem—but Ymir is spending her money, so she should really be more considerate. "You know, I'm the one paying!"
The taller woman pondered a bit and grinned in a sincere, but almost mocking, way. "You're right, sorry." She faced the waitress, "Skip the cream soda, just get me water."
Asshole, Sasha thought. "So, what did you want to talk about?"
Twiddling the fork in front of her, the other eyed something on the table cloth. She didn't even bother making eye contact with her. "I want you back together with Jean."
Sasha's eyes widened, mouth gaped open, but composed herself to a straight face. "We were never together."
"You're an awful liar, and you know it."
"What does it matter to you, anyway?"
Ymir rested a hand on her chin, and replied haughtily, "I honestly don't give a fuck about you and Jean, but I care more about Christa. You think that's a real relationship? Give me a break."
"Why don't you do something about it then?"
The taller woman rolled her eyes and smirked. "Well, I'm trying. Hey, I have an idea." She stared straight at the other, as if locking on to her. "How about you and I team up to break them apart?"
Sasha immediately stood up, the flimsy plastic chair creating a screeching sound against the tile floor. "First of all, that's fuckin' messed up." She paused, her eyebrows furrowed. She banged the side of her fist onto the table, causing the waitress behind the cash register to flinch. "And second! Me and Jean never had any 'intimate' relation, so I wouldn't care about all this!" She didn't mean to sound so emotional when she mentioned "intimate."
"Oh, please—" Before Ymir could speak up, Sasha already picked up her bag and marched out through the door. "Sasha! You fuckin' stupid—!" She heard her angrily yell through the wall.
Sasha frowned. I'm a horrible person for considering it though, the brunette thought as she walked back to her apartment.
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It was way too early in the morning again, and she sat on the same, old rotting bench. The lack of sleep really wore down her stamina, and she'd have to worry about the dark circles eventually appearing under her eyes. I'm so stupid for getting myself depressed over this…
Sasha inhaled painfully, exhaling a wispy breath, kicking her feet up in the air. "You know, I should be studying, o-or getting started on that paper, or play games I still need to finish…"
"That's a lot of things to do."
She twisted around to find Bertholdt standing behind the bench with a plastic bag in his hand, just like yesterday. "Hey," he casually said.
"Bertl!" She yelled up ecstatically, sounding way too happy than she wanted to let off. "Come, sit!" As soon as he set himself down on the seat, the brunette edged closer to him, linking her arms with his. She felt his whole body tense, but then relax to the touch. "Thanks for staying with me yesterday."
"N-no problem…" he blushed. "I was going to text you if you were feeling better today, but I didn't know if I would be imposing too much into your business…"
"It wouldn't have been imposing," she said as she brushed a hair strand behind her ear. "But that's cute of you to think that."
"Really? I think you're a lot cuter, Sasha."
The girl looked up at him, slightly bewildered by his statement. He clammed his mouth shut after realizing what he said—his back darted straight up and his body still.
"How cute do you think I am?" she asked.
"U-um… really cute?" he answered, unsure of how to respond.
Sasha looked downwards, eyes unfocused in front of her. "I know this is stupid of me to ask since you're probably busy, but do you want to hang out at my place for a little while?"
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Inviting him to her apartment at an odd time, offering him a seat on her bed, teasing and flirting with him—she hoped something would happen, but she wasn't sure if she would regret it or not.
Before she knew it, her lips were on Bertholdt's neck, her hands lifting up his shirt to feel his abs. The bed creaked under them, as they rushed to peel off each other's clothes. As soon as their shirts came off, Sasha couldn't help but feel this whole situation as surreal. It was almost the crack of dawn, and they felt fatigued but energized at the same time.
Bertholdt's large hands slid down her sweatpants, cupping her buttocks in a careful manner. "Are you nervous?" Sasha asked. She wasn't so used to this kind of gentleness in bed.
"Kind of. Would you laugh at me if I said that this would be my first time?"
She glanced away. She didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed that he didn't remember. He was so inebriated at the time, that of course, he might have thought he imagined their whole sex.
The brunette snapped out of her thoughts when Bertholdt spoke up. "I understand if you don't want to do it…"
She shook her head. "It's not that." She didn't have the heart to bring it up just yet. Instead, Sasha reached under his pants to stroke his erection over his boxers. It was much bigger than what she was used to, and not being intoxicated made this situation create a whole lot of anxiety for her. But she became excited, and her body heated up when she felt him slide her pants and panty off.
She tossed them off to the side, hastily taking his pants and boxers off him in return. She mashed her lips onto his, sliding her tongue to meet his. He clumsily kissed back, while his hands reached up to play with her breasts.
Sasha was dripping wet, and she was sliding herself up and down against the side of his cock. Bertholdt let out a loud moan, his eyebrows scrunched up. His hand reached down, placing his fingers between her pussy lips—the wet fluid sticking onto them.
She licked her lips in excitement and guided his hand up to her clit. "This is where you want to touch if you want me to feel really good." As soon as the tip of his finger started circling it, she gasped, her mind fuzzy and hot. "A-ah…that feels great…"
She leaned herself on him, breasts on his chest, while the tall man continued to pleasure her. Sasha licked his neck and sucked on it gently, feeling the tip of his shaft rub against her leg. Her hand dove down to the lengthy erection, stroking it up and down, the sensation of that and his finger on her clit making her impatient.
"Can I…?" She whispered heavily into his ear, while aiming his cock to her entrance.
Bertholdt just nodded his head, gasping in ragged breaths as the brunette lowered herself onto him. She groaned, the intensity rising as she felt him grow bigger; just the tip was in but she already had to stop. The tall man placed his hands on the sides of her waist, obviously restless. "Sasha…"
She placed her own hands on his chest to steady herself, placing him deeper inside of her bit by bit. He's so much bigger than J—
Sasha yelped in surprise when Bertholdt plunged upwards into her, the action surprisingly more pleasurable than painful for her.
His eyes widened. "I'm sorr—!" Before he could manage to finish, she smashed her lips against his, twirling her tongue, while grinding her hips in a fervent manner. Her walls tightened around his dick, the wet sloppy noises becoming louder. She felt his enormous hands push down on her buttocks, as he aggressively thrust his hips into her sex in a vigorous pace.
She parted away from his lips, moaning loudly as she felt his large cock hit her insides over and over. Bertholdt's eyes clouded with lust, eyebrows furrowed as he moved faster than before. "Shit…" she whimpered. Sasha was at her limit, her whole body stinging in both pleasure and pain. "A-ah, come!" she yelled.
He gritted his teeth, lifting her away causing him to ejaculate all over her butt cheeks and the lower part of her back. She felt the sticky liquid drip down her body as she crawled off of him; the man gave her an apologetic look.
"Sorry! I totally forgot about the condom and I— let me get you some tissue!" He panicked and looked around her room to see if he can spot any. She totally forgot to mention that she was on birth control, but oh well.
"It's 'kay!" She smiled as she hopped off the bed. She strolled to the restroom, sensing the man's eyes on her naked body. After cleaning up the semen to the best of her ability, she came back into her room, a nude Bertholdt still on her bed.
Smiling, she climbed on the bed with him, wrapping an arm around his torso. "Don't you have class, Bertl?"
He drowsily answered, "Not until the afternoon. What about you?"
She looked at the timer on her desk. "My class is in an hour…" She yawned and closed her eyes, leaning against him. "But I think I'll ditch classes for today…"
Bertholdt closed his eyes as well. "I guess I'll ditch too."
Notes:
[1] Stereotypical career woman: In Korea and Japan (I believe in China too), there are sociological studies that question why women have started to marry later, or never marry (mostly career women); most answered that they'd rather their chosen partner be successful/rich, rather than the actual prospect of love. This happens in other countries as well, but Far East Asian countries took more research into this as their birth rate decreases.
A/N: Sorry for not updating in a while again… but I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Originally, I wasn't going to add in any smut, but oops, I did it anyway. Thanks to all who read, commented, followed, and favorited this fic!
(and shout out to FinalBraus because she's awesome! Go read her fics!)