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Summary
"When Jean knocked on his office door one evening and asked to discuss something “personal,” Levi never would’ve imagined that the idiot would then announce, “I’m attracted to you, sir, and I just wondered if you were attracted to me, too.”
[...] Levi called Jean into his office barely a week after the “confession” with clear plans to tell the moron to get a fucking grip and grow the fuck up and get it the fuck together. Instead, somehow, he ended up standing between Jean’s absurdly long legs while Jean sat on his desk and kissed down Levi’s neck while Levi gaped at the wall."
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"Erwin slowly takes Jean’s hand, fine boned and long fingered, nails well kept, “may I ask what you want, Jean? In an ideal world where this works out how you desire it to—what does that entail.”
Jean’s smile is sheepish, “honestly, sir, I’d get the both of you.”"
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Or: Jean's my favourite character and I make my other two favourite characters utterly enamoured with him.
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"First time Chris did it, the first thing that went through his mind was, Jesus, Joey is heavier than he looks, followed by, he smells like piss, and then, his thighs are soft. That had him stuttering, his steps stumbling—just for a moment—and, being up on stage, stared at by hundreds of manic fans, he had a momentary oh shit moment that it’d been caught. That every fucking forum would know it—that Number 3 had got Number 1 on his shoulders and had thought his fucking thighs were soft and had almost collapsed at the fact."
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"You don’t talk about what happens on stage. You don’t say to Shawn that he shouldn’t push Sid into the drums and slice his fucking head open, you don’t say to Corey that he shouldn’t scream so hard he coughs up blood, you don’t say to Mick that he shouldn’t slam his head up and down violent enough to seize the nerves in his spine—so Chris didn’t say to Joey, I liked it when you came in your pants from grinding on the back of my head."
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Summary
"The first time Corey saw Joey, he thought he was a girl. Swear to God."
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"‘You good, man?’ Joey said around his second hot dog. (Hey, dude, don’t judge, he’d said to Corey in response to Corey’s raised eyebrow at the request of three shitty gas station hot dogs versus Corey’s one, I just played a gig.)
‘Uh,’ Corey said, ‘yeah.’
‘The dress bothering you?’
‘Huh?’
‘The dress, dude,’ Joey said, took another bite and said around the meat and bun and ketchup (one with ketchup, one with mustard, one with both), ‘the dress bothering you?’
Corey slowly looked at the parking lot, no one was there, ‘honestly, dude,’ he said, ‘it’s the fuckin’ panties that are bothering me.’"
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Summary
"Jean threw his hands in the air, ‘is this—are you finding this funny? ‘cause I’m near death here, sir. I’m really gonna die after this,’ he gestured at his gross, sweaty sleeping bag, ‘gonna get in that and fucking—’
‘Language.’
‘—sorry, sir. Gonna get in that and friggin’ die.’
‘First of all, don’t say that.’
‘…yes, sir.’
‘Second of all, yeah, this is kinda funny—’
‘Damn it.’"
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OR: Literally just a light-hearted levijean smut because everything else I write is angsty.

