krysiewithak - Tumblr blog

krysiewithak · 3 years ago

Text

Holy hell 🥵

Helping Hand

Pairing: Elliot (Euphoria) x Reader

Summary: Reader has had a string of disappointing relationships where her sexual pleasure wasn't a priority. This led her to think that she couldn't reach pleasure with a partner and it led to her and Elliot not having very much of a sexual life. Elliot wants to prove her wrong and make her feel good. He also has ulterior motives because during his lesson with Jules, trying to teach her to go down on a girl, he doubts his skills. Silly him.

Warnings: Pure smut 18+ and fluff lol

Word Count: 3.6k

A/n: I loved writing this. This is so relatable lol this hits very close to home! Literally speaking from a therapy session with my sex therapist. Folks, I am all too real over here.

Based off a request. "Would you possibly mind writing an Elliot imagine where reader doesn’t think they can cum with a partner because of a string of disappointing sexual experiences, and Elliot is kinda extra about proving them wrong."

I think that in today's society, sexual dysfunction in women is so common that it should be something that is more widely acceptable.

In men, when their little guy decides to take a shit, it takes one call to a doctor, the little blue pill prescribed in most situations. And boom, there's not a lot of questions, not a lot of hubbub. Just a simple pill and everything goes back to normal. Most of the time.

Whether the cause of the man's issue was stress, trauma, physical issues, who knows. I feel like it's not talked about that much. But if a pill can fix everything and have it be a quick easy fix, then awesome.

But when a woman can't perform sexually, oh no, there's something wrong with her. It's believed that that's least likely to happen compared to men. Or at least, that was the belief in the 90's and early 2000's. In today's day and age, female sexual dysfunction really routes itself back to millions of explanations; psychological trauma, abuse, body dysmorphia or plain discomfort. It comes in a variety of forms; anxiety, dryness, pain, or sometimes, a lack of sexual arousal all together. Sometimes it's the wrong person, sometimes the person that they're with doesn't know what they're doing. With men, it was hard to tell them what to do or guide them in a polite way without anger being the response.

Which I guess led me to my original issue.

Men don't know what the clit is. Plain and simple.

You'd think that with 36% of the female population needing clitoral stimulation to reach any sort of big O, that it would be equally important for men to want to know how it works. But this couldn't be farther from the truth. Whether it was the left lip, right lip, complete top of the pubic bone, they could not find it. When in reality, if you looked at any crude drawing of the female reproductive system, you'd know what to look for.

Every woman is different and pleasure is not a one size fits all, no sir. But the clit? It's pretty consistent. So what is it about men making it so consistently inconsistent?

Like. Stop having sex until we find out.

Every boyfriend I have had since the tenth grade has been absolutely clueless. You'd think between the ridiculous amount of porn guys watch and their constant need for validation that they would've figured it out by the time they got their first girlfriend. Well, considering I was two of my boyfriend's firsts, that was so wrong.

The first guy felt terrible, his eyes practically tearing up as he finished inside of me in almost two seconds. He was led to believe that most women came from just penetration. I explained to him that, for me, that didn't apply to this situation. He cried for two hours and then never spoke to me again. He didn't even break up with me. Just ghosted me and avoided me in the hallway forever.

Then the second guy was just, how do I put it-oh, yeah. A douche.

He was an absolute cunt, if I'm being frank.

I don't know, to this day, why I let him take me on six dates let alone take me to bed. I was excited, he was popular, like 'friends with Nate Jacobs' popular. I had heard that he was really good in bed and had this thing about going down on girls. That he liked it. To my sixteen year old mind, he was the holy grail of guys.

I should've known. Between the Bass Pro Shop hat and the fact that his Instagram only consisted of pictures of him with fish and the occasional underage beer; he was a walking red flag.

There were sirens going off all the time around him, red flags waving in the wind. But red flags look a whole lot more green when you think you're in love.

The fact that I thought I was in love makes me want to shoot myself.

I know it sounds dramatic. It wasn't.

This guy claimed to have this thing, this love for pleasing women. Except where was that love for women's pleasure when he was yelling at me for crying after he was way too rough with me. The man apparently thought women were sex dolls that he could just use and then get rid of. Cum and dump. Literally, red flags, red flags, red flags. He didn't care about female pleasure and then proceeded to make me feel bad for wanting, needing, something in bed.

This leads me to today, in a happy relationship with a man who knew full well of my trauma. That includes my issues with men, my love/hate relationship with sex, my complete disinterest in the topic, and he knew that I had been disappointed for years by boys.

Elliot loved to please me in every way outside of sex. We had been together almost a year, my mind still not used to the feeling of his lips on mine and his eyes on my body. I can tell just from the look in his eyes that he's been completely head over heels for me for a while. I knew it before we were even dating. He listened, he talked to me in such a way that I felt validated no matter what the topic was, he watched me, paid attention to me. He could remember the littlest things about me and bring them up at a later time, knowing how much it meant to me that I knew that he was paying attention. He was a gentleman- is a gentleman. A sarcastic one but a gentleman nonetheless.

"Hey, baby, pay attention." Elliot's quiet voice snaps me out of my thoughts, my eyes fluttering up from my book to look at him. He's spun around completely on the bed, his face twisted up in concentration as he pouts. "So, I need your advice." He huffs, crawling towards me to lay his head on my thighs. I place my book down on the bed, my fingers immediately reaching to tangle in his curly locks. "So, I know that you've had issues with guys in the past with sex and stuff..." He trails off, my eyes widening a bit as my heart rate picks up. "But, like, I don't know-" He cuts himself off with a sigh, his hand reaching up to rub over his face. Damage control, fuck.

"Just tell me what's going on in your mind and we'll figure it out." I whisper, my thumb brushing against the spot between his eyebrows, his face visibly relaxing at the movement. He gives me a gentle nod, his lip tucking in between his teeth as he ponders for a moment.

"I was trying to teach Jules how to go down on a girl- on Rue- and it made me feel stupid so. I want you to teach me." He explains, my eyebrows skyrocketing as I let out a small laugh. His gaze flickers up to mine, his cheeks warming a bit as he waits for my response.

"So, wait, you want me to teach you how to go down on a girl? Are you really asking your girlfriend how to go down on a girl so you can teach another girl how to do it?" I ask, the words leaving my lips making me laugh even louder. He rolls his eyes at my clarification, a small scoff leaving his lips.

"Well- no. I want you to teach me how to go down on you." He responds simply, the heat between my legs growing at his reply. My jaw slacks a bit, my eyes looking over his face, looking for any type of smirk or insincerity.

But he's completely serious.

His face is dimly lit in the low light of the room, the street light and the moon lighting up the dark sky. "I figure if you just show me how to do it then you can't be disappointed like you have been in the past, right?" He asks genuinely, a small smile on his lips as he nuzzles his head further into my thighs.

"I mean, yeah, you're right..." I trail off, my eyes looking away from him as nerves swirl in the pit of my stomach.

"But?" He asks quietly, his hand reaching up to rest on my cheek. He tilts my chin down, his eyes looking into mine as I sigh.

"No one's cared about my pleasure before, Elly." I whisper, my teeth biting at the skin on my lower lip as he chuckles softly, his head shaking at my words.

"I do, silly." He whispers, his thumb untucking my lip as he smiles. "Come on, it'll be fun." He urges, my eyes rolling playfully as he sits up, scooting closer to me. "I'll do anything you say." He promises in a sing-song tone, my thighs clenching unintentionally. "It'll be good. We'll take it slow." He reassures, his hand resting on my thigh and I pause before letting my head bob up and down in a nod. "Alright." He grins, leaning forward to gently and quickly kiss my lips. "Okay, teach', let's roll." He whispers against my lips, my head tossing back in laughter as he snorts.

I gently move so I'm laying down, the pajama bottoms that I wear quickly being abandoned. Elliot settles himself between my thighs, my fingers raking through my hair as nerves consume me. He gently rubs his hands over my thighs, soothing any of my anxious thoughts. "You don't have to be nervous." He whispers, my hands gently resting on my stomach as I look down at him. "It's all about you." He grins, his soft eyes twinkling in the low light.

"If it's all about me then you should be kissing me more." I tease, his eyebrows raising in surprise as he grins. He shrugs simply, crawling up my body to press his lips to mine. I cup his cheeks, his fingers dancing down the side of my body as he pulls me against him. I smile into the kiss, our lips messy against one another, breathy moans leaving his lips. It's not every day that we get moments like this. Moments where the barricades that I put up between us, sexually at least, are down. I never feel relaxed enough, trusting enough. But the way that he looks at me, the way his lips are needy against mine, it ignites this fire in me that would be sinful if I didn't act upon. He's mine for the taking and he's made it very clear that he'd do whatever I wanted him to.

That, that, is hot.

His lips pull away to travel down my chin to my neck, soft pants filling the room as he moves down the bed. Breathless moans leave my lips as he continues his way down, his lips dragging against my stomach as he lifts up my shirt. I watch him with wide eyes, his eyes not leaving mine as he places a kiss against my pelvis, his lips inches away from where they want to be. But before he can move, I speak up, anxiety taking over. "Wait, uh, what if I like, taste bad. Elliot, I didn't think about that-" He cuts me off with a gentle kiss to my clothed clit, my head falling back onto the bed as I shut myself up.

"I'm not really worried about that, Y/n." He whispers against my thigh, his lips placing open mouthed kisses against the skin as I watch him intently. His lips brush over the stretch marks on my inner thigh, a shiver running down my spine as he hums. "These're cute." He mutters, his fingers dragging over the sensitive lines on my skin. "I've never really been down here long enough to realize." He whispers with a smile, my chest warming at the sight of him taking the time to memorize every inch of my body. "Also, these," he gently skims his fingers under the sides of my panties, humming, "are way more than cute. Like, shit." He chuckles, pressing a kiss to my hip as he lays down on his stomach, his weight resting on his elbows. He looks up at me expectantly, his head gently resting against my thigh. "Come on, baby, tell me what you want." He whispers, his hand reaching up to take mine gently. I intertwine our fingers instinctively, my thoughts running wild.

"I've never had a guy do this before." I chuckle, my eyes closing softly as I continue. "I assumed guys hated doing it." I whisper as he snorts, his head shaking in disagreement.

"That's where you've got it wrong cuz- here, bend your knees." He instructs, my knees bending, obeying his words. He reaches around my legs, caging his head between my thighs as he grins. "I could stay between these thighs all day if you'd let me." He whispers, my eyes widening briefly at his words as my thighs clench. He chuckles quietly at the feeling, his eyes closing softly. "See, I'm already getting to know you better. You like when I talk like that, hmm?" He asks, my head nodding quickly and eagerly as he laughs. I roll my eyes, tilting my head to bury my face in the pillow next to me. "Oh come on, don't be shy." He teases, pinching my thigh as I giggle. "Own what you like and don't be embarrassed." He promises, his lips pressing against my stretch marks as I hum. I look down at him, his eyes wide as he waits for my instructions.

"Why don't you, um, do something and I'll tell you if I like it or not?" I offer, trying my hardest to take all the pressure off of me. He nods gently, the grin on his lips growing even wider.

"You're giving me full consent to go down on you, I think I'll take that offer." He snorts, a laugh leaving my lips as I tuck the pillow next to me under my head. I watch him as he gently keeps his arms wrapped around my thighs, keeping me firmly against the bed as I wiggle my hips. He drags his thumb over my panties, the ever present damp spot I'm sure being seen by Elliot. Fuck, not a good day to wear light grey panties. He hums quietly, his thumb gently circling over my clit through the material. My eyes close at the feeling, the feeling of his lips against my thighs and his fingers against me making me quickly melt into him. "Fuck, you're wet." He whispers, his voice a little shocked as I look down at him. His pupils are blown, more so than they are with any drug, and his bottom lip is pulled in between his teeth. "Fuck." He whispers, his face tucking into my thigh as his hips jolt against the bed.

"Focus, Elliot." I chuckle, his eyes snapping up to meet mine. His jaw drops a bit at my words, shocked by the strong tone.

I'm going to be honest, I didn't intend for it to come out as hot as it did.

"Focus, Elliot- Fucking shit." He moans, obviously taken off guard, his fingers quickly tucking under the waistband on my panties to pull them off of my body. "I don't give you enough credit, you're out of my league. Too hot." He chuckles to himself, my hands reaching up to cover my face as he bathes me in compliments. "Like seriously. You've gotta be fucking with me." I shake my head, not knowing where he's going with this. He scoffs, his eyes rolling as his eyes flutter over my, now, exposed heat. "You're telling me guys looked at you and didn't want to make you scream?" I shake my head again, the answer making him laugh as he rolls his eyes. "Well lucky me and lucky fucking you cuz that's all that I'm gonna do from now on." He promises, the grin on my face not breaking. "Now," he huffs, his hands gently rubbing over my thighs as he sends me a soul crushing wink, "sit back and enjoy, alright?" He asks, his lips dipping down to press against my clit. I nod in quick agreement, my head falling back as he takes over.

His lips are everywhere and anywhere at first, his tongue following. His tongue never seems to leave my clit for long, even when he dips down, moaning at the taste of me, he always comes back up to circle it or gently suck. And fuck, did it make my mind spin.

My moans grow louder by the minute, Elliot's face pulling away to gently place a finger at my entrance, pushing in gently as my hips raise. He forces me back down, his palm spread on my hip as he holds me to the bed, my thighs still resting on his shoulders.

"Why would you ever worry about how you taste? You taste fucking great, alright?" He whispers, my eyes opening as I look down at him, his lips glistening as I moan, my hand reaching down to grab onto the hand that splayed against my hip. He gently intertwines our fingers, his lips returning to their place in between my thighs. His fingers make quick work, easing in and out of me without hesitation.

He knows what he's doing. I'm not completely sure if this is supposed to be a teaching moment for him or for me to learn that he had this hidden capability to make me whine his name. "Fuck, you sound so hot." He whispers, his fingers speeding up their pace inside of me, curling gently as I gasp, the feeling new and different. "Yeah? That feel good?" He asks, repeating the motion as he gently leans down to flatten his tongue against my clit. I squeal gently, the two sensations making my head spin as I squeeze his hand.

"Fuck, Elliot." I whisper, my voice coming out ten times more strained than I intended. "Why the fuck would you need help with this?" I chuckle breathlessly, my hips stuttering against the bed as he laughs.

"Stroking my ego, are we?" He asks teasingly as he gently bites my inner thigh. I moan at the feeling, the contrasting feeling of his fingers edging me on inside of me and the roughness of his teeth against my thigh making me crumble. "You feel good?" He asks quietly, pressing another kiss to my clit as I moan. "Hmm?" He teases, the vibration against my sensitive bundle of nerves making me whimper. "Come on, tell me what you want." He urges, my eyes struggling to stay open as I wish for his lips to be on me again.

"Uh, can you, uh, your tongue-" I cut myself off, my brain not completing a thought as I try my best to focus. He seems to get the point though, his tongue dipping down to lap against my clit, doing everything he possibly can to please me. I moan loudly at the feeling, my hand disconnecting from his to tangle my fingers in his hair. I tug gently, the sinful moan that leaves his lips at the feeling making me clench around his fingers. He must've noticed too because he speeds up, curling against the spot within me to drive me closer to the edge. "Fuck, El, I think I'm gonna-" The stars in my vision cut me off as I topple over the edge, my jaw dropped in a silent moan. He continues his movements, his fingers leaving me after a few moments but his lips don't move. He continues to lick and suck, taking anything that I have to offer.

He helps me gently ride through the high, the hand in his hair not leaving until he pulls away from me, my thighs shaking beside his head. He coos quietly, hands gently rubbing my thighs as I squirm, the feeling of the cool air now making me shiver. He doesn't leave from between my thighs but simply pulls a blanket over my midsection and core to cover me up. I hum thankfully, my hips twitching every once in a while.

He laughs gently at me, his head leaning to rest against my trembling thigh. I look down at him, the smile on my face growing as I laugh sheepishly. I gently cover my mouth with the back of my hand, my eyes closing in delight as we sit in silence for a moment.

"You came really hard." He whispers, my hand reaching out to smack the side of his head. He giggles happily and proud, his lips pressing against my thigh. "I could do that for hours." He confesses happily, leaning forward to wipe his lips on the blanket. He shifts on the bed, his face falling as he looks down at himself. "Fuck." He curses, his eyes closing as his head hangs.

"What?" I ask gently, finally finding my voice as he sits up. Scratching the back of his head sheepishly, he looks down at himself, his hands now resting on his hips as he sighs.

And that's when I see it, the small dark wet patch on his sweatpants. I immediately burst out laughing, my hands reaching up to cover my face as he groans.

"I, uh definitely came in my pants, so..." Trailing off, he huffs, making his way off of the bed as I watch him through my slitted fingers. "I love you." He mutters quietly as I respond almost instantly, my cheeks warm at the thought of him being so horny just by pleasing me. Fuck, as if I'm not going to take advantage of that in the future. He waddles away towards the bathroom as I giggle stupidly, watching as he sends me the finger over his shoulder.

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A/n: I think I, uh, took this a little too far. I love Dominic Fike. I love Elliot. I COULDN'T NOT WRITE THIS WITH THIS MUCH DETAIL. Also I'm sorry if there's any mistakes lol it's 2am here😂

Taglist: @jamespotterswifey @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405

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@bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar

@elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff

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@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @letmebeyoureuphoria @rafecameronswhore @4lyssasworld

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krysiewithak · 3 years ago

Note

I loved this so much!

helloooooooo can you maybe write a one-shot where you save ashtray from something really serious and he gets attached to you and sees you like a mother figure and then you and fezco fall in love ☺️

— Pairing: Fezco (Euphoria) x F!Reader | Ashtray x F!Reader (Platonic)

— Summary: People don't know this, but you and Fezco only become a thing because you and Ashtray go way back. In fact, almost nobody knows this, but Ashtray will gladly tell anyone who asks—you were his friend first. In the end, they're both your boys. Just in different ways.

— Word count: 1.7k

— A/n: Warning for drug use. I love exploring the idea of Ash and Reader having a good relationship, so here we go!

all my lists | tv master list | ko-fi ❥

ㅤ— my friend first —

ㅤ

People are used to seeing you three together, by now.

Fezco, Ash, and you.

Ever since Ashtray was a child in school and got bullied by the other kids for being who he is, people could find you somewhere close by, marching towards the idiot speaking bullshit with your hands fisted and your whole face meaning war.

That's how you met Ash, actually—despite being three years older than him, Ashtray hung around with the kids from upper grades because of his jobs since day one in school.

The first day you heard someone calling him a 'reject' was the first day he learned you liked his company so much you'd clock anyone who had shit to say to him.

“Why did you do that?” He asked that day.

He’d been ten, and you thirteen. “’Cause I don’t like people who try to make others feel like shit,” you answered simply. “Plus—he’s an asshole.”

For the first time, Ashtray laughed in front of you.

He had the cutest toothy grin, and you’d made your mission to find out what else made him smile like that. You had seen the kid hanging around the school, never alone and almost always in bad company.

Always looking serious.

Frowning, sometimes, and the few times you’d heard him speak, you had your eyes somewhere else but you could hear the sneer in his voice.

The kid had attitude, and you liked that about him.

It meant personality.

Over the next couple of years, you and Ash grew closer.

It took him a minute to understand that you genuinely liked his presence. That when you stopped at the school corridors to talk to him, it was never out of interest or whatever reason people often sought him out.

“I like your company, shit-for-brains,” you eventually told him, throwing a hot Cheeto in his direction.

Ash stopped for a second, picked up the Cheetos from his hoodie, and ate it.

He smiled. “Whatever,” he said. It sounded like that’s cool. “You’re not so bad.”

You rolled your eyes at him and the audacity, but from then on, Ash believed you.

Not only that, but he started seeking you out, as well. Sometimes you’d be sitting at the cafeteria bored out of your mind and he’d stop by to just tell you a funny story about one of the idiots you two had in common to hate, and you’d forget your girlfriends and their silly stories about the boys they liked.

It took Ashtray almost six months to believe you were his friend – and a hot Cheeto – and six more months for him to understand that yes, two people could be friends and nothing else.

That’s when you started dropping by at his house, and when your crush for Fezco started.

At fifteen, your whole relationship with Ashtray changes, and it’s mostly your fault.

A decision you make at the spur of a moment, and one you knew that moment you made that you’d never regret:

Ashtray was in trouble, but that was nothing new. The unusual – and fucked up – part was that this time, whatever he got himself involved came after him, and not in the usual bullshit way that most of his contacts did.

No. They came over with bats and crossbars, wanting to beat the absolute shit out of him.

And that’s when you’d meddled.

You were barely even thinking—you were driving your mom’s car despite knowing you shouldn’t be, searching for him around the neighborhood because his text messages to you had sounded weird. The sixth sense that kept you alive in that public school screamed that you needed to find him, but every thought went out of the window when you did.

Ashtray being chased by a bunch of dudes who must’ve been way over their twenties was not on your bucket list.

“Fuck.” You muttered. With your feet hitting the gas pedal, you accelerated through the streets with your heart racing in your chest and when you parked right next to him, tiles screeching, he almost had a heart attack. “Get in!”

Ashtray was sweating profusely, and he looked less composed than you ever saw him as he looked between the guys rushing towards him and you. “They’re gonna get your driver’s plate—they’ll come looking for—“

“Get in the fucking car, Ash!”

He got inside like someone jolted his feet with electrodes and you drove off.

He’d been right—the guys did get in their cars to chase you.

And that’s when you made the call.

Ashtray kept yelling stuff at you, telling you to just drop him off somewhere and other bullshit, but you knew what you had to do.

You didn’t give a fuck about how or why he got in that trouble—he was getting out.

You led the guys to one of the outskirts of town and just did it. Ashtray looked lost, and so fucking young when you opened the glove department and took out your mother’s Glock from her shitty hiding spot. “What are you doing?’

“Stay inside.”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Stay here!” God, you wondered if Fezco had trouble getting this kid to do the stuff he should, too.

When you got outside, the lights from their car were almost visible at the end of the street.

Thank god for moms with good aim and a Texan way of raising her children.

You aimed for the lights, knowing you’d probably get them wrong, but at least you wouldn’t risk shooting someone inside.

They’re not gonna get him.

And after the two warning shots, you knew that they weren’t coming after him, either.

You watched them turn the car around in a dangerous maneuver, and when Ashtray got outside, all he saw was you with wide eyes, the gun in your hand and a stupid, shocked smile on your face.

“You good?” You asked him.

Ashtray had tears in his eyes.

He rushed to you and hugged you so hard he almost dropped both of you on the floor, and you secured the gun before wrapping your arms around him, too.

He’s just a kid.

Somehow, he felt a little bit like your kid. You were barely old enough to have one yourself and any other person on the planet might’ve just said he felt like a younger brother and truth be told, most of the time, that was the case.

Still. As a brother or not, you got him. Ash might be Fezco’s, but he’s your family, too.

Dating Fezco was the second instance that changed your and Ash’s relationship but only for a brief period of a week.

“He’s just jealous,” Fez told you in bed. He looked a little guilty about it, but both of you knew how much you tried hiding the crush, the feelings, the need to be together that only grew as the years drifted you closer.

“I don’t like it,” you pouted. “I hate him being mad at me.”

“I know, baby,” Fezco leaned in for a kiss, and some of the bitterness went away. “I’d talk to him, but I don’t think it’ll help,” he chuckled.

“He’ll come talk to me when he’s ready,” you say.

Like clockwork, Ash shows how much you know him.

He does come to talk to you, and it takes a good conversation sitting on top of the gas station for him to understand that you being in love with his brother could never and will never change the fact that you love him.

Adore him to death, and he fucking knows that.

Ash relaxes after that. He just needed to hear that he’s not losing his best friend, it seemed.

Then, he gets cocky with it.

Whenever he feels like you and Fez are spending too much time together – and you’re not blind to it, being in love does glue people together and you can admit sometimes it happens – he installs the Law where you and he must have your ‘bowling and movies’ day at least every fortnight.

So every now and then, Ash will just knock on Fezco’s door, nod at his brother, and like the little shit he is, demands to steal you.

Like today. “Yo,” Ash nods at Fez, then looks at you. “I need company. C’mon’.”

Fezco snorts laughter out of his nose and looks at you. “I could never talk to you like that,” he states, pretending to be mad. “You’d smack the shit outta me, wouldn’t you?”

You laugh, and so does Ash from the door. “I’m glad you know that,” you kiss his lips, ignore the gagging sound a couple of feet away from you and start putting on your shoes. “Where are we going?”

“I gotta grab some shit at that posh swimmer kid’s house. I hate going there alone,” Ash answers, leaning in to wait for you.

“You can’t take your friends?” Fezco asks, lighting up his joint.

Ash looks at him deadpanned. “No.”

“Why not?” Fez insists. He’s just taking the piss, and you roll your eyes as you tie your shoelaces.

“’Cause they’re annoying,” Ash answers.

“So is this one,” he nudges you with his feet.

Ash frowns. “To you, maybe.” When you look up, he’s smirking. Ugh, sixteen years old is an awfully smug look on him. “She’s the nicest to me.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re her baby,” Fezco replies.

They truly, really are brothers.

“Dude,” Ashtray’s laughter is mocking. “You got that right.” He looks over at you. “D’you wanna stop by Marco’s on the way back?”

“Ohhhh, yes, please!” You smile. Marco's restaurant is the favorite stop in this house, a favorite among all three of you. Looking over your shoulder, you wink at Fez. “I’ll bring you your favorite.”

He smiles back at you. “I love you, girl.”

“Love you, too,” you giggle, feeling your cheeks hotter. This man.

“Fucking gross,” states Ash. “Let’s go,” he states before walking out the corridor.

“You’re a brat!” Fezco yells to his brother, smiling in your direction. “Stop stealing my girl, man!”

“She was my friend first!” Ash yells back, and both of you can tell he’s smiling from the silly sing-song way he says it. “You know the law, bro.”

“The law,” Fezco whispers to you, holding back his laughter. He crawls over the bed for one more kiss. “See you later, pretty.”

“See you.”

“Take care of our boy,” Fezco winks.

You like the way those words sound way too much.

It almost feels like home.

🏷 fezco tag list ☆ @jarah2006 ; @itsdawnashlie ; @dreaming4you ; @poisxnedmind ; @newasskid ; @waiting-till-im-okay ; @oopsdevil ; @10blurredsmoke10 ; @edencherries ; @spooky-stoner ; @alex--awesome--22 ; @asimpwriter ; @goals108 ; @asuperconfusedgirl ; @rangotangomango ; @lokismidnight ; @not-again-bestie ; @estereomnisciente ; @purpleflamebluesparkles , @ariianelle , @blackravena , @jessyballet ; @nunya7394 ; @dariequeen ; @criesinlies ; @sorceresss ; @jointherebellion215 ; @moonlightplanet ; @madhatterweasley ; @hoeneyhoeney; @emma-phr ; @bubblegumcat229 ; @clemdango04 ; @destiiny16 ; @strawberrysandcream ; @fezrus ; @ameerakane20 ; @oabf45 ; @crankynfancy ; @jillianblom ; @hidingsikki ; @wxnderingthoughts ; @nifujiswhore ; @niyamar1e ; @babeyglo ; @skinytears ; @needyghosts ; @herbeautifulboy ; @georgeweasleysgf ♡

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krysiewithak · 3 years ago

Text

Playful Pleasure

Pairing: Fezco (Euphoria) x Reader

Summary: Fezco gets a call in the middle of a very intimate moment with his girlfriend. She's disappointed that he answers it so she makes it a bit hard for him to stay focused.

Song: "dirty laundry" (reverb) by blackbear

Warnings: Sex, pure smut 18+, like barely any plot lol.

A/n: You'd be surprised how many requests for cockwarming that I get so I did my own thing with it since there were so many lmao.

My favorite feeling in the whole world had to be when Fez was deep inside of me, his hips pounding into mine as I gripped onto him.

Like now.

"Fuck baby." He mutters, his strong hands grabbing onto my hips to help drag me against him. I moan loudly, my head thrown back in pleasure as his lips skim against the sensitive skin on my throat. My nails dig into his back as he rests his forehead against my shoulder, breathless and sweaty. My walls flutter around him, my arms winding around his neck, like putty in his lap. "You been thinkin' bout me all day, hmm? You finally get what you wanted?" He quizzes, reminding me of my naughty texts from just hours before. I was trying to rial him up while he was gone, knowing this is what would happen when he got home. It was obvious that I wanted him, that I wanted him inside of me and I couldn't argue that I got exactly what I wanted.

"Yes, Fez, fuck-" I cut myself off with a squeal, Fez's fingers circling my clit as tears prick my eyes. Both of us near our highs, our moans and whimpers mixed between us as his lips find mine.

The shrill shriek of his ringtone startles us moments later.

His hips slow their movements, stilling inside of me as I whine, my eyes rolling in annoyance. He keeps one hand firmly on my hip, reaching over to grab his phone to see who's possibly interrupting our time. It was late too, Ash already fast asleep.

"Fuck, it's Custer." He whispers breathlessly, looking up at me with sad eyes. I huff, my walls still clenching around him as he bites his lip, ignoring the feeling of him being deep inside of me still. He gives me a cringed smile, answering the phone as I rest my head on his chest with a pout. "Hey man, it's not a good tim-" Custer's anxious rants are heard over the phone, cutting Fez off, my heart still pounding in my chest as I sigh. I wiggle my hips briefly, Fez's words stalling as he looks down at me, questioning my sly movements. My gaze flutters up to him teasingly as I gently press kisses to his chest, giving him hell for answering the call. I know that his business is important, especially with everything that's been happening lately.

But I can't seem to care.

My hips lift against his, him hardening once more in a seconds notice. He whispers out a small fuck before returning his attention to Custer, trying his best to ignore me. He just continues to listen but his eyes stay trained on my hips that move up and down on his.

Teasing him even more, my hands slide up my body slowly, grasping my breasts in my hands as I whimper lowly. He shakes his head teasingly at me, a small blissed smile on his lips. His head hits the headboard with a thump, his fingers gripping my waist, I'm sure leaving fingerprints in their wake.

My moans grow louder as I try my best to stifle them, his hips twitching upwards into mine as I clench around him. He damn near drops the phone at the feeling, his eyes fluttering shut in anguish. He tries his best to stay focused, my breathing heavy in volume as he fills me perfectly.

Blushing, he tucks his lip between his teeth as he hums in acknowledgement. Custer just continues his anxious rants, the words going in one ear and out the other without care. Fez just wraps an arm around my hips, pulling me harder against him as he smirks wickedly. This was out of my comfort zone, sure, but I was not about to not finish something I started.

"Man, look, I gotta go. We'll talk 'bout this tomorrow." Fez wraps up quickly, his eyes trained on mine as I smirk, running a hand through my hair. Fuck, yes. He chuckles as he ends the call, tossing the phone to the side, ignoring the fact that he cut his friend off. He stalls my hips briefly before wrapping his arms around my waist. He flips me onto my back with a huff, his nose bumping against mine as I grin. "Imma fuck you so hard."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @jamespotterswifey @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex--awesome--22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @letmebeyoureuphoria @rafecameronswhore @4lyssasworld @write-from-the-heart @ariianelle @vampviolets @theanxietyqueen17 @haylee-e

Euphoria Taglist: @usernamelol @ssprayberrythings @pessimisticbiitch @urmomsangel

Fezco Taglist: @squishiejiminiee @fudgemesteveharrington @hi-my-name-is-riley @trinbby13

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krysiewithak · 3 years ago

Note

Hey! So I saw your requests were open but I’m not sure if the times past or not. If it has feel free to ignore me! They’re hooking up and the readers having a hard time getting off and he sees this and tries some choking and dirty talk and it fixes the problem. Any of the CE SS or Winchesters are cool with me. Hope you have a good weekend! 💕

Rough Hands

Characters: Steve Rogers x F!Avenger!Reader.

Words: 3K.

Warnings: Steve is a confident MF, sexual tension, sexual frustration, failed orgasms, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), bicep/forearm choking, dirty talk, size kink, female masturbation, spit as lube, praise kink, 18+.

A/N: I apologise for how long it has taken me to come up with something for your request, and it that slightly differs from what you asked— however I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! It massively got away from me, but I’m not sorry. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. And thank you to my pre-reader @sweeterthanthis for always encouraging my thirst. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support your content creators. My work is my own, therefore I do not give consent for this story to be re-posted or translated to any other site.

You’re grateful for the wide berth of the team on the Quinjet as you fly home, the frustration of the failed mission souring your mood. You don’t want to talk to anyone, and when Steve attempts to, you merely respond with one-word answers or grunts. He doesn’t take the hint.

“Look, don’t take it so hard,” Steve tries to reassure you but his words just irritate you more. “We acquired the target.”

“But we lost civilians in the process,” you sass a little too sharply. “Why are you not more upset?”

He shrugs, however it’s not because he doesn’t care— you can see in his eyes that every death still weighs heavy on his heart, but unfortunately, he’s just become acclimated to the loss. He’s still the kind soldier who took you under his wing, but there’s a darkness idling beneath the surface now— the horrors he’s witnessed chipping away at his once immaculate soul.

“There’s something else on your mind,” he observes, moving towards you and drops to his knees in front of you. “What’s up?”

The memory of him pulling you out of harm’s way in the middle of the gunfight, strong bicep tucked snugly under your jaw makes the syrupy heat in the pit of your stomach spark.

That’s what’s up.

You stiffen when he places his hand on your thigh, your skin prickling beneath your tactical pants as he rubs it in an attempt to comfort you. It does the opposite— comfort is the furthest thing from your mind.

“Nothing,” you reply, averting your gaze. You try to shift your leg away from Steve’s grasp, but his strong hold keeps it in place.

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

“Just drop it, Rogers.”

Some of the team turn to alcohol after returning to the compound. You turn to sex. Desperately seeking out a tenderness that doesn’t exist within the missions— everything precise and meticulous, rules obeyed to the letter. When you arrive back, all you need is something hasty and messy to take your mind off the job.

You met Evan at one of Tony’s infamous Christmas parties, striking up a flirtatious chemistry almost instantly. He was funny, sweet and pretty quickly— after a particularly horrendous mission just off the coast of Spain— Evan became your outlet. You both know that it’s nothing serious, just a way to release all of that pent up stress, and for a while it’s worked. But with the caseloads getting bigger and more violent, his sensual approach is too soft and you’ve got to the point where you’re now finding it hard to… finish.

You can’t deny Evan knows his way around a woman’s body, just not your body.

And doesn’t help that you’ve been fantasising about Steve for the past two months.

Evan captures your lips with his as he snaps his hips, the deep punch to your cervix making you whine into his open mouth.

His hand moves between your damp bodies, and a small jolt of electricity initially ignites when his thumb begins to circle your clit, but it soon peters out the more he attempts to coax you to euphoria. You squeeze your eyes shut trying to will yourself to orgasm, your mind wandering to the last porn website you visited before it’s morphing into the memory of Steve with his bicep around your throat.

You crave that pressure— that hard muscle flexing beneath your jaw causing your breath to stall in your throat. A spark flickers in the pit of your belly, remembering the way his taut body felt against yours— the brush of his cock against the swell of your ass…

“Mm,” Evan‘s sudden hum sounds in your ear and the moment is lost.

“Stop,” you snap, “just… stop.” You let go of a defeated sigh when he slows, eyeing you with concern.

“Is everything alright?” he queries, pushing himself up onto his palms. “Am I hurting you?”

You shake your head. “No, you’re fine.”

That’s it— it’s just… fine.

He retreats and pulls out slowly, his cock still rock hard as he rests back on his haunches between your spread legs.

“I’m just having trouble switching off, I guess,” you explain vaguely, not wanting to go into detail about how he suddenly can’t satisfy you. But you know it’s not Evan, it’s you.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Throw me around the room a little?

“No,” you answer, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. “D’you mind if we call it a night?” You scrunch up your nose and squint your eyes, half expecting a barrage of complaints, but in usual Evan fashion, he merely smiles back at you and runs a hand up your leg, gently squeezing your thigh.

“Not at all.”

You smile back and quickly reposition yourself, sitting up in front of him. Reaching out, you take his cock in your hands before slowly dipping your head.

The least you can do is let the poor guy finish in your mouth.

You try to keep your distance from Steve for the next few days, your sour mood extending far beyond the failed mission. Every time you look at him, you’re reminded of his arm pressed against your larynx and that familiar arousal starts to bubble away in your core.

You really need an orgasm. Or five.

It’s late when you rush into the gym Friday night, needing to work out to take your mind off of everything. If sex is out of the question then beating the hell out of a punching bag is the next best thing. You gotta release this tension somehow.

You’re not paying attention, eyes focused on your cell as you search for your workout playlist, when the last voice you want to hear echoes in front of you.

“Hey stranger,” Steve greets as you look up. He’s already sweaty and rosy-cheeked.

Dear God.

“Haven’t seen you since we got back.”

You shrug. “Not been feeling well.”

“Oh,” he places his hands on his hips, a little put out, “nobody mentioned anything to me.”

“Women’s problems,” you quickly lie.

He seems placated by your response. “Ah.”

That’s one way to get him off your back.

“So, if you’re feeling better, fancy a little spar?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you shrug him off, eyes set on the punching bag across the room.

“C’mon, you afraid I can still kick your ass?”

You narrow your eyes at him, watching the way his lips curl up into a smirk. He knows how to get under your skin— knows you can’t resist a challenge. With a stubborn huff, you throw your towel to the floor, and step up onto the mat to get into position.

It’s 2-1 to Steve. And you’re certain it’s going to be 3-1 at any moment from the way he’s so easily dancing around you, light on the balls of his feet as if he’s ready to pounce. The man hasn’t even broken a proper sweat.

“That all you got?” he teases, tongue tucked between his teeth.

You lunge forward, your focus concentrated on the spot just below his ribs, knowing which way he’ll fall if you catch him just right and make it 2-2. However Steve’s too fast and ducks out of your way just in time. He’s dodging you to the left, and before you know it, he’s got his arm wrapped around your throat from behind. You freeze, making no attempt to fight back. Instead you stand there tight in his hold, your hands splayed across his thighs in some kind of submissive state.

“Think you’re losing your touch,” he chuckles deeply in your ear. The vibrations are heavy inside your chest as the thrum carries down your spine and comes to rest in the pit of your stomach. It’s enough to pull you from your horny daze and you react quickly, managing to slip from Steve’s grasp before he realises you’re free.

You shake your head. “Nah, just felt like giving you that one.” You try to psyche him out. “You look tired.”

Steve responds with a scoff. “I can do this all day, baby girl.”

You know it’s not meant as a term of endearment, but the way it rolls off his tongue so smoothly— so warm and thick, makes a desperate whine break off in your throat as arousal begins to pool in your yoga pants. You stare him down for a split second, eyes drawn to the way Steve’s cerulean gaze rakes down your trembling body.

“Ihavetogo,” you splutter and rush off, heading straight for your room, desperate to relieve the ache between your legs.

The alone time is useless. You lay on your bed, hand shoved in your panties as you rub at your clit. Deep moans escape through your damp, parted lips, Steve’s name on the cusp of your tongue while you try to summon up the sensation of his arm tight around your throat. You can feel ecstasy in the distance, tiny flames of pleasure licking at your core, but even as you reach into your bedside cabinet for your vibrator, you know you’re not going to get where you want to go.

You click it off when the batteries begin to die, throwing it towards the trash can with a loud and frustrated yell as you swing your legs off the bed and give up.

With an orgasm off the table, you head back downstairs in search of a drink.

Everywhere is quiet when you reach the kitchen, making sure to give the gym a wide berth in case Steve spots you, determined to finish off what you started earlier. You flick on the light and hone in on the refrigerator, ready to fish out the ready-made margarita mix Nat had stashed in her designated drawer weeks ago. When you open it, it’s practically empty save for a punnet of strawberries that have clearly been left to grow a layer of mold.

“Great,” you huff, toeing it closed a little too loudly. Glancing around the kitchen, you suddenly remember Clint hid a bottle of whiskey at the back of one of the cupboards. You start opening and closing each door in search of it, your hopes dwindling as you start to run out of cupboards to look in. You reach the second to last one, heart leaping excitedly when your eyes finally land on it.

“Barton, I could kiss you,” you mutter to yourself.

“Ah, you’re back.” The words from behind you startle you.

Clutching your chest temporarily, you turn to the owner of the voice, knowing the face that will greet you. Steve smiles wide, arms folded over his chest.

“Yep,” you say, voice clipped as your lips pop the p.

“What’re you doing?” he inquires curiously, dropping his arms and walking towards you.

“Getting a drink.”

“Your little analyst friend busy?” He taps his fingers lightly against the counter top.

“Why does that matter?”

Steve shrugs. “Because you’re usually in need of a fuck when you’re stressed, not rummaging through the kitchen for Barton’s secret stash.”

His words take you a little by surprise.

“I’m not stressed,” you try to defend but Steve sees right through you.

“Sure you’re not.”

Turning away from him with an embittered grunt, you reach up into the cupboard for the bottle. As your fingers brush the edge of it, Steve is suddenly pressed up behind you, bicep tucked perfectly beneath your chin.

“What the fuck are y’doing?” you manage to choke.

“Just an experiment,” he explains from behind you, and you can tell from the lilt in his tone that he’s smiling. “Wanted to see if that was a one time thing back there or you always grind your ass against my cock like that.”

“I think you’re imagining things.”

“Mm, am I?” His spare hand reaches around your midriff and slips it beneath the waistband of your yoga pants. “So if I were to delve into this little satin thong,” his fingers scrunch the material teasingly, causing the seam to rub through your folds, “I won’t find you soaking wet?”

It takes all of your resolve to hold in a moan.

“What’s the matter?” Steve breaths in your ear. “Afraid I might break you?”

This time you can’t hold back, muttering, “Jesus Christ,” under your breath as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

His hand slides lower and you know you should stop him, but a strange kind of curiosity overwhelms you. What if Evan was never bad at all, but just bad for you?

You tremble in Steve’s grasp, fingernails sinking into the flesh of his forearm as you use the grip to keep you upright because without it, you fear you might crumble to your knees. And when his fingers reach between the apex of your thighs, cupping you gently through your soaked underwear, you feel your body sag against him.

“Mm, you really are drenched, baby girl,” he says, low and hushed. “This all for me?”

You nod as best you can.

“Only fair I should get to enjoy it then.” He teases the fabric of your thong to the side and it feels like an eternity before he runs his middle finger down through your folds.

You whine pathetically at the sensation, and when he sinks the tip into your slick heat, you almost draw blood from biting down on your lip so hard.

“Can feel you suckin’ me in already,” he laughs against your damp cheek. “What a greedy little pussy you’ve got.” He pushes his finger further in, practically impaling you on the solitary thick digit. “Can’t wait to feel you drippin’ around my cock.”

“Fuck, Steve,” you lament breathlessly, wriggling your hips as you rub your ass harder against his swelling erection.

“Seems like you can’t wait either baby girl,” he grunts deeply in your ear, dropping his arm from around your throat as he hurriedly pulls his hand momentarily free.

It’s almost torture how slowly he smooths your yoga pants down your thighs, letting the fabric bunch around your knees as your sodden thong remains. Pressed against the counter top, you feel like you’re waiting forever before he’s spreading your asscheeks with two giant hands. You arch away from him as he hooks the satin to one side and runs his fingers back through your wet lips.

This time, Steve pushes two fingers inside you, your walls hungrily clamping down around them as he begins fucking them in and out at a pace that has you seeing stars.

“Think you’re stretched out enough for me?” he asks, lips hot against your ear. You agree, giving your head a little nod as you whimper over the filthy slurp of your cunt.

His fingers slip out and the loss of the warmth of them makes you clench around nothing, eagerly waiting. You hear Steve rustle his clothes briefly and before you know it, a different kind of warmth is prodding at your entrance, followed by the sound of him spitting. The hot saliva dribbles down your ass as he rubs the head of his cock through your slick, coating it liberally with the mess.

He surges forward very slowly, his impressive girth opening you up like a flower coming into bloom, inch by inch. You can hear him sucking in tight breaths behind you as he pushes inside, and you tense when he hits resistance.

“Shit,” you cry out a little, rolling your hips to entice him to move. It feels like he’s splitting you in half when he gently manipulates his way further and eventually bottoms out. A choked moan bubbles in the back of your throat.

“Oh baby girl, I know it’s big, but you’re takin’ me so well,” Steve praises. “All of my thick cock buried inside this tight little cunt.”

You stay interlocked like this, feeling him throb in time with your own heartbeat before he begins to retreat. When he’s almost all of the way out, he slams back inside you, making your eyes sting a little with tears. It hurts but it feels… so… fucking… good.

Steve’s bicep wraps its way back around your throat, taut muscle flexing as he tightens his hold. His other hand balances on the shelf of your ass, your ruined thong curled up in the ball of his fist, using that grip to tug you back onto his cock.

“This is what you wanted, right? Me treatin’ you a little rough?” he mutters over the sound of wet.

Slap, slap, slap.

“Y’know, anyone could walk in right now.” You clench around him at the thought and he lets out a little laugh. “Would ya like that? Get torn apart while someone else watches?”

You whine through closed lips, feeling yourself growing wetter with every sinful thing that comes out of his mouth.

He fucks you like this— all deep, rippling thrusts and dirty words— as if he’s a man possessed, and it’s just what you need. You can feel the syrupy heat from your failed orgasm stirring low in your belly, igniting into a spark that carries right down into your pussy.

Steve hits every tender, sensitive spot inside you over and over like he’s had your body memorised for years.

“That’s it, coat my cock. Take me nice and fuckin’ deep,” he punctuates as he disappears back inside you and that’s when you feel it. Right on the crest of rapturous bliss.

“Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me come,” you cry with strangled breaths, trying to savour your oxygen but the lightheadedness is ultimately what finally pushes you over the edge.

Somewhere in your periphery, you hear the timber of Steve’s voice but you don’t hear the words, the rush of blood in your ears and your own euphoric shriek drowning him out.

It’s not until he practically snarls in your ear, “listen to me,” and the authority in it makes you focus. “Don’t give out on me yet baby girl, we’re nowhere near finished.”

***

Steve: @andreasworlsboring101 @broadwaybabe18 @cake-writes @deanwinchesterswitch @fandom-princess-forevermore @hurricanerin @mugi-chwan95 @oneoftheprettynerds @sammykb1994 @smokeandnailz @syrenavenger @syntheticavenger @vicmc624

ALL CE: @chamberofsloths @dreamlessinparis @imanuglywombat @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @la-cey @livstilinski @ladydmalfoy @otomefromtheheart @patzammit @stargazingfangirl18 @starlightcrystalline @saiyanprincessswanie @sunwardsss @selfsun @sunflower-writings @threeminutesoflife @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @xoxonotme

Forever: @amandamdiehl @b3autyfuldisast3r @buttercandy16 @crashdevlin @dangertoozmanykids101 @daughterofthenight117 @donnaintx @danneelsmain @dandywinchesterbras @deangirl93 @doozywoozy @downanddirtydean @foxyjwls007 @gayasslookinass @geekofmanyforms @hoewkeyesblue @heyyouwiththeassbutt @ilovefanfic86 @jewelswrites-ish @joseyrw @letsby @letsdisneythings @mogaruke @notyourtypicalrose @nik2write @novawillowbarnes @obsessivelycapricious @pinkshenanigan @princessmisery666 @rattwritesfics @roxyfan14-blog @sea040561 @sweeterthanthis @slutformarvelmen @simpformarvelmenandwoman @stoneyggirl @warriorqueen1991 @wonder-cole @xoxabs88xox @zooaliaa

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krysiewithak · 3 years ago

Text

Scent

Pairing: Fezco (Euphoria) x Female Reader/You

Rating: SFW, Mild sexual themes

Warnings: Language, mentions of drug use, mild smut (heavy petting), sitting in Fezco’s lap *heart eyes mf*

Word Count: 1242

Summary: A party with Fezco

A/N: Here’s another fic featuring our favorite local dealer with the sparkly eyes. I have one more planned after this and that has full on smut so prepare yourselves. Until then, check out the next part in my Five Senses Series. Feedback is that good shit.💗

*Check out my other Fezco drabbles Physical Touch, Taste, & Sounds.

Disclaimer: Characters are of age in my fics. Reader and Fezco are in their early twenties.

*Masterlist in bio.

**********************

Fez inhaled off the blunt between his fingertips, watching from afar as bodies gyrated on the makeshift dance floor. He sat in an oversized armchair in the living room, music pounding as he conducted his usual business.

Even amongst all the overstimulation, he could smell you. Partly because your scent always clung to him. And partly because he was just that attuned to you. A house full of people or not.

He slipped the cash he’d just collected into his pocket and searched for you. He could feel you around. Smell the sweet scent of your perfume that now trapped him. It lingered, even overpowering the scent of marajuana that followed him everywhere.

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krysiewithak · 4 years ago

Video

⋯ freak like me: two [18+]

you and coco have fucked in your car plenty of times, but this is different

⇥ coco cruz x reader ⋰ 🚨 the smut y’all been waiting for 🚨

part of the freak like me series

⌧ tw ⋰ guns, threat of violence

❒ cw ⋰ exhibitionism, unintentional/undiscussed voyuerism, dirty talk, gun kink (?), spitting, spanking, biting, dick sucking, a sprinkle of dom!coco

❍ a/n ⋰ reader has breasts and a vulva, is fem presenting/woman identifying, has hair long enough to be pulled and most certainly is:

megan with the knees, and

an island gal with the waistotherwise she’s ambiguous

HERE YOU WHORES !! (regina georgedly)

[read on ao3] - 2215 words

@ vid/gif credits ⋰ angel-reyes thedevilsmoonshine drmidnites theebluprint

So here’s what had happened.

The club went on a run, one of the longer ones which meant you wouldn’t see Coco for over a week. And that meant that you were obligated to carry on the tradition of making Coco lose his mind while he’s away, because:

it’s fun, and

it always guaranteed sex so good you feel it in your soul once he got back

Every time he leaves, you choose a different plan of attack. And for this round you decided to make him sweat it out a bit; keeping all your messages PG and dodging any of his attempts to get you to bust it open on FaceTime. All up until the day the Mayans are supposed to ride home.

That’s when you recorded the video.

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krysiewithak · 4 years ago

Text

i love you, ezekiel reyes

pairing: ezekiel "ez" reyes x woc!reader

summary: ezekiel missed you. a lot.

author’s note: missing ez a little more recently, so this was a joy to write! (i also have a rio fic planned next, so keep your eyes peeled!) pretty please leave any thoughts or comments you have below... i would LOVE to talk about this idea with you guys. enjoy, my loves! <3 (gif credit:@angels-reyes)

warning: language, cockwarming, fluff - this is nsfw and 18+! minors do not interact!

word count: 0.6k

“Fuck,” Ezekiel draws out lowly, palms immediately gluing themselves to your hips. You shudder along with him at the feeling of his member filling you up, Ezekiel hissing as your hips settle one last time.

Once you still, your lustful gaze gravitates toward Ezekiel. His thick chest rises up and down, skin already sheening with a thin layer of sweat. His Adam's apple bobs noticeably as he looks up at you with stars in his eyes.

“Missed you today,” EZ mumbles, pulling your frame into his. You unconsciously melt into him as he barely holds back a grunt at the feeling of your pussy squeezing around him. “Miss you every day.”

You give a light hum as a response, finger running back and forth across the heated skin of his shoulder. He does the same across your back, tracing what felt like an extravagant pattern as he continues.

“Everyone at the clubhouse was asking about you too,” Ezekiel informs you. “They wanna know when you’re gonna visit again.”

You can’t help but smile, almost hearing the wave of exclamations from the rest of the Mayans. Her heart warmed at how all of the men––decorated in their heavy leather and alluring tattoos––taking time out of their busy days to worry themselves with your whereabouts.

“If you don’t mind, I can come by tomorrow,” you propose, not bothering to move your cheek from Ezekiel’s shoulder.

“Of course, I don’t mind,” Ezekiel replies, gently pushing you away from his chest in order to get a better look at his face. Your eyes reunite with his, taking the time to explore the familiar pools of honey. They were just as warm and enticing as the day you met him.

Ezekiel doesn’t even notice the small smile growing on his face until you quietly question, “What, baby?”

It takes him a few blinks to return back to reality, and he shakes his head at your inquiry.

“Nothing.” Everything seems to move in slow motion, almost as if the two of you are underwater––luckily, the only thing you were drowning in at the moment was true love. Ezekiel leisurely advances his lips to yours, brushing your mouths together before hungrily delving his tongue into your mouth.

You moan instinctively, returning the act of affection with just as much passion. Ezekiel only pulls away when he completely runs out of oxygen, damning the fact that he couldn’t kiss you forever all because of his need for element number eight on the periodic table.

“You’re just really fuckin’ beautiful, that’s all,” Ezekiel finally reveals, a knowing smirk falling across his face. His heart soars at the small smile that he receives.

You press another kiss into his mouth, hands now gracing the sides of his face to keep you steady. “I love you, Ezekiel Reyes,” you mumble against his pink lips, meaning every word.

“I love you too, mi amor,” EZ responds affectionately, baritone voice rumbling with a tenderness that only he can manage. A beat of silence occurs, giving the opportunity of what can be considered a sinister idea skipping its way into your love-hazed brain.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to move,” Ezekiel grunts out, voice wavering as you intentionally tighten around him. A sinful giggle flows out of you at the way Ezekiel tightens the grip around your middle, barely thrusting his hips upward.

“Feels too good,” you whine, arms encircling around his neck, pressing a sweet peck into his cheek. Ezekiel groans in response, repeating the action of thrusting further inside of you.

Another sound––embarrassing enough for you to be ashamed if Ezekiel weren’t the one bringing it about––pours out of you, and Ezekiel smiles.

“You like that, baby?”

A wordless nod has Ezekiel shaking his head, as he huskily orders you, “Don’t get all quiet on me now, querida. We’ve still got all night.”

“All night?” You wonder, eyes widening at the statement.

Ezekiel grins, teeth sparkling as he replies, “Hell yeah. I already told you how much I missed you today. Now, I gotta show you.”

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