Jean Fluff - Blog Posts

K.

Cigarettes After Sex (2017) series m.list

jean x reader

wc: 1k

warnings: suggestive; basically a fwb situation but no smut, idiots to lovers ?

a/n: highly recommend listening to the song while reading! was lowkey in my feels when i started this lol i’ve been wanting to do something with jean and this song for so so long !! im happy with how it turned out and i put a lil piece of my heart into it <3 needed to show jean some love hehe but yeah lemme shut up now LOL. i hope you enjoy :))

The first time you fell for his easy charm was at the bitter end of summer. The two of you were the only ones that made it up to watch the sunrise; the rest of the group passed out around you guys, their limbs thrown over one another and various degrees of snores softly filling the otherwise quiet room. Jean’s calloused hand met yours, dragging you out to the balcony to see the sun peek along the top of the city, waiting for the moon to disappear so it could make its debut for the day.

Even today, you couldn’t say who made the first move. The hazy buzz of alcohol from the night was wearing off and the delirium from staying up far too late was setting in, but the decision was made. Two hearts that often found themselves lost were able to find solace in one another, even if it was the shallow kind. 

Time progressed and feelings grew. Being with Jean felt like something you’d see in the movies. A perfectly poignant picture with two people who were obviously in love, but not together. The kind of film where you are practically screaming for the two of them to just talk and finally address their feelings. But this was real life, and you couldn’t think of it that way. It had been decided that this was no-strings, no rules; just something the two of you did as an extension of your friendship. Besides, there was no guarantee that he felt the same way about you and you didn’t want to risk the already complicated relationship. 

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゜・．jean in the morning

— Streams of sunlight force their way through the breaks in the curtains, their only goal being to settle onto whatever they reach first. The light breeze seeping through the unlatched window sends the drapes fluttering. Though it makes for a wobbly path for the sunshine to pass through, the beams eventually find themselves landing on Jean’s face. Through his drowsy state, he shifts his head so that the sunlight instead rests on the tips of his messy locks. It’s no longer in his eyes, but now another problem arises: his position is mildly uncomfortable. He peeks over at your sleeping outline, hair splayed across the shiny, satin pillow as your sides rise and fall with every breath. His arm snakes around your waist to bring you closer, where he then buries his face in your neck. Lips hesitate on your shoulder for a moment as he relaxes around your form. The faint scent of your shampoo from last night’s shower lingers on your skin and provides Jean with a sense of well-being; it weighs his eyes down and lulls him right back to sleep.