Lion's Den (Jean x Reader) [COMPLETE]

Part 3: Truce [FINAL]

Jean fucking Kirschtein. He fought dirty – almost as dirty as you did – and you were becoming increasingly frustrated with him, and he with you. You both knew what you wanted, but you were both too stubborn to admit it. But now it was time for all of it to finally end, and you were going to end it on your terms, so help you god. You would not be the one to cave.

You waited silently, hidden in the storage closet in the hall to the boys' dorm. You knew Jean had to pass through here at some point, and it was only a matter of time before you heard the sharp clacking of leather boots against the wooden floor. You could recognise those footfalls anywhere.

Jean gave a yelp as you pulled him into the closet, locking the door swiftly behind you and turning to glare at him, your arms crossed.

"What the fuck are you-?"

"We need to talk."

"Flying the white flag are we?" he smirked.

"Far from it. This has gone on long enough, Jean. I want to call a truce." You unfolded your arms and offered a hand to him. You were suddenly well aware of just how small the closet was, and how close the two of you were forced to stand.

He looked blankly at your offered hand, and then grinned. "So you are giving up. What's the matter? Too hot for you to handle?"

"Just shut up and accept," you said irritably.

He continued to watch you, amused. "What's in it for me?"

"Accept it and find out," you said in your most seductive voice. You heard his breath hitch in his throat as his honey eyes wandered over your body. He clasped you hand in his and shook it.

"I guess we're even," he said.

"No," you said, much to his confusion. You brought your foot back and brought it down on his shin with a loud THWACK!

"Fuck, [Name]!" he cursed as he fell to the floor, clutching his shin.

"Now we're even." You gave him the sweetest smile you could muster, before turning to unlock the door. Before you could, you felt a tug at you wrist, and you found yourself stumbling backward towards the floor and into a pair of wiry arms.

Jean's smug face loomed close to yours, his weight pressing down on you from above.

"Now, about that truce..." he said, trailing his warm tongue from your collarbone to your cheek, making your body ache with need. "I don't think just a handshake will suffice."

You smirked. "I couldn't agree more."

You gripped the collar of his shirt roughly in your hand and pulled him down onto your lips. He responded eagerly, letting your tongue slip into his mouth. It was rough, primal – you had both been waiting so long for this.

Clumsy, aching fingers began hastily unbuttoning his shirt, brushing gently against his tanned chest with each small movement. He gasped into your mouth as you pushed the cloth from his shoulder along with his jacket and cast them aside. You pulled him closer, longing to feel his skin against yours, and he parted your knees gently, settling between your thighs, and pressed his hips tightly against your own.

You could feel his length already hardening and you moaned at the friction it created as he rocked his hips into yours. You felt his long fingers at your collar, efficiently popping the buttons one by one to reveal the soft skin beneath. You shuddered as those fingers trailed down your chest, between your breasts and across your stomach, to your sides where they gripped hard as another thrust left you aching for more.

In one swift movement, you flipped him over. Straddling him, you looked down at him, his face flushed and pupils dilated.

"No backing out now, Kirschtein," you said breathlessly.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied, a grin plastered across his face.

Your eyes never leaving his, you slid the shirt from your shoulders, reaching behind you to unclasp you bra. You tossed it away along with the shirt, and watched Jean's eyes widen as he took in your uncovered body. His hands shot up to cup your breasts, massaging gently, driving you insane. You were both panting by now, the air around you growing warm, almost suffocating.

Jean sat up, pressing his chest against your own, and finding your neck with his lips. His bit gently, teeth grazing your collarbone.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he growled.

"Some," you smirked, grinding your hips once, painfully slow. He groaned and soon you found yourself beneath him again, writhing in pleasure under his fevered touches and wet lips. Before long, he had discarded your pants, along with his own, and in one frenzied movement he was inside you.

You moaned at the sensation, wrapping your arms about him and entangling your fingers tightly in his copper blonde hair, pulling him closer, deeper, inviting him to cure that dull, longing ache you had felt for so long. He groaned softly in your ear as he pulled out to thrust into you again, harder, faster. You arched your back as his lips found your nipple, fighting the urge to cry out his name, instead uttering it as a moan.

"Ah, fuck," he gasped, his movements quickening.

You kept pace with each thrust, rolling your hips in time to his, until they became lazy, irregular as he drew closer to his end. He gripped your hips tightly as he finished, one last thrust sending you over the edge with him.

He pressed his forehead against yours, the both of you panting heavily. He pulled out.

"I think I'm going to like this truce," he said breathlessly.

"You'd better, because I'm not done with you yet." You grinned mischievously. "Feeling up to round two?"