My name is whatever you decide / And I'm just gonna call you mine
jean kirstein x reader
content - 18+, friends with benefits, possessive jean, confessions while cock drunk, no condom use, reader begs for him to cum inside (and he does)
words - 1.1k
reputation event masterlist
♡—jean is a good fwb, so good in fact, that he has you unknowingly confessing your feelings for him while he's balls deep inside you... oops?
"Never make me wait this long again, angel, please." Jean pants. "God, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this again. To have you like this again. My girl." His voice sends shivers down your spine, and the way it seems to travel through you, down into the deepest depths of your body, has your knees feeling wobbly (it was lucky you weren't standing up at this very moment or you felt sure you would've buckled after his words).
His hands roam your body in such a frenzied and frantic way that it makes your head spin wildly. You lie underneath him, his full weight rests on you and a mix of his cologne and sweat (yours and his) is all you can smell as he presses himself even deeper inside you.
"I think I do actually." You reply.
You feel him smile against your cheek, "Oh yeah?"
You nod, and try to hum in response, but the tip of Jean's cock seems to kiss a sweet, sensitive spot inside you at exactly the same time, and so your hum turns into a surprised moan instead. Something that Jean will not let go unnoticed.
"Aw, my angel, does something feel good?" He teases.
He maneuvers his arms so that they cage your head and you can feel the hardened muscles in his biceps squeeze your cheeks ever so slightly. You furrow your eyebrows. But all the fight is taken out of you when he picks up the pace and begins thrusting in and out of you with such unexpected speed that your hands fly about the air looking for something to grab onto, like you're riding a rollercoaster that just took a surprise dip after climbing upwards for so long.
"Oh, my sweet girl, that's it." He purrs when he feels your hands groping weakly for his back. "You just hold on to me, okay? Just let me feel you, let me feel what's mine–fuck you're tight–that's it, my baby."
You squeeze your eyes shut and force yourself to take a deep breath.
Jean has always been able to make your head spin, he's always been able to make you see stars, and make your knees weak. Every metaphor, comparison or simile under the sun—he's all of them. He's a good fuck, basically. The best you've ever had, in fact. That's why the two of you have been doing this for so long, this just two friends who hang out and do friend stuff but also have mind blowing sex together thing. And it's been working well, too well. All your friends think the two of you are dating, it's impossible to hide anything from them, you're not even sure why you tried to lie about it to begin with, especially since Jean has such an obvious tell that if anyone were to ask him about it there would be no way they wouldn't walk away from that conversation without knowing the truth. But it's fine. You can't really complain when he's pulled three orgasms from you already this evening with no sign of slowing down.
"You okay, gorgeous?" He asks, whispering the words out through gritted teeth. His pleasure snuck up on him, he's been running a marathon for the last... he doesnt even know how many hours and all of a sudden his body wants him to sprint sprint sprint.
And he wants to listen.
"I'm almost at the finish line baby, tell me what to do." He whines.
You squeeze around his length, tilting your head back in pleasure as a breathy moan escapes your lips. Jean attaches his lips to your now exposed neck without a thought, sucking on your most sensitive spot while still managing to keep up the pace he had set for himself—although his thrusts were beginning to get sloppy and desperate as he got closer and closer to his climax.
"I–ah, fuck–Jean, please, please, p-please." You reply. Your head spins. You have no idea what you're even begging for, but fuck, you just need... something. Anything!
"Use your words, angel. C'mon now, I need you to–hnng–tell me–aa–tell me where to cum. Need to cum for my pretty girl."
Your broken moans fill the room. You know what you want but you can't seem to find your voice, when you try to speak all that comes out are high pitched whines and whispered repeats of his name over and over again.
"God, you feel so good around me. You take me so well, this pussy was made for me, made to be mine." Jean continues to praise you, his sultry voice coupled with his delicious words have you hurtling towards your own orgasm at such a rate that you finally manage to get out the words you've been so desperate to say—the imminent release of pleasure sends energy shooting through you, enough to take you out of your cock drunk state, even if it's only for a second.
"Inside! Please–ah, fuck fuck fuck–inside Jean! God I love you." You whimper.
You don't even realise what you've said, too overwhelmed with the feeling of Jean's cock pumping into you to realise much of anything—someone could burst through the door carrying a monkey on their back and you would have no idea they were there, too caught up in your own pleasure.
"Oh, fuck. My gorgeous girl, yeah–tssk–yeah I'll cum inside baby. All for you." He whimpers. "My girl, you are too good. Fuck, fuck fu–fuck."
Jean stumbles over his words, too overwhelmed by the power of you to say much more than a string of curse words as he unloads his pleasure inside you. He can feel you squeezing around his length, his eyes screw so tightly shut that he's seeing stars (although one can't blame that wholly on how tightly his eyes are closed...) and your moans fill his ears. Breathy moans. And whispers of his name, over and over again. And then there's that thing. That small thing. Sprinkled in-between the curses and the whispers and the whines.
You love him.
And you've said so at least... 5 times now...? And although Jean would never say, maybe hearing those 3 words was the finishing push that tipped his pleasure over the edge tonight. Maybe those whispered confessions of love were what caused that coil to be released. And if there were a few tears sneaking their way down his cheeks as he painted the insides of your walls with his pleasure, who would know? Certainly not you. Your eyes wouldn't open until Jean started nuzzling into your neck, giving open mouth kisses all the way from your collarbone to your jaw.
And that was just fine with him. He could leave his own confessions for another day.
maybe if i just think really hard about my blorbos and listen to fun music and play little video games the essay that was due a week ago will just suddenly materialize and zero consequences will fall upon me
the edgarevelyn daughterwife relationship as another grooming technique to prey on the children and vulnerable of riverdale.... this show is so CRAZY it's crazy it's like the borgias in here‼️
considering writing a 10-part fic series centered around adam parrish based off the tracks in kate bush's the dreaming. was listening to the album today and fantastically adam & the cabeswater deal coded. just so much there.
