Work Text:
“I need you to relax for me, pretty girl,” he cooed, soft and low.
You let out a tiny whine, as static shocks washed over your body from the sensation of his warm breath on your ear. Easy for him to say. You found relaxing to be a little difficult at the moment, as his skilled fingers worked lazy little circles on your clit.
“Relax,” he breathed once more, as he slid his lithe digits into your awaiting entrance, one, two, three.
Three. The number of years you had known Jean Kirstein.
It was effortless, the way you had become such great friends, becoming the constant in each others’ lives. A work of fate, really.
But in all those years, never would you have thought to find yourself here, face down, ass up, on the silken sheets of his king sized bed.