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#ugh save me from writers block stewy save me save me
augustghosts · 4 months
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Stewy Hosseini x female reader fic that i once again have no title for
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SEEEEE i told you i was gonna write this. Part 2 of this but you can defo read it alone! This took me months because I’ve been busy getting fired from two jobs in a row and losing my mind but i’m kinda back <3
Word Count: 2.9k
Warnings: 18+ pls because this is smuuuuuut - Apparently I can't help myself. Fem reader. Oral and pinv, the usual. A little bit of angst and jealousy. Final warnings are my bad writing and no proofreading because I'm lazy.
The same hotel bar, the same stool and the same eyes watching you from across the room. 6 months later, this time a birthday party. Apparently this place is a popular party destination among the rich and boring. Although now, it is associated with a night you would rather forget. You and Stewy ghosting each other after that night was not something either of you intended. He’s busy, you know that. But you can’t help but feel some resentment as you look over at him. Maybe because of the ghosting, but it’s definitely not because of the girl he’s talking to. The girl who’s currently caressing his arm and looking into his eyes a little too intently as he talks. She laughs loudly and you cringe, your fingers tightening on the wine glass in your hand. What could he possibly be saying? He’s not that funny. You shake your head with a sigh at the thought, because - fuck, he is that funny. He’s made you laugh like that a million times.
Eventually you decide enough is enough, you gather your things and make a conscious effort not to look over at where Stewys and his new friends are sitting. You say your goodbyes to the birthday girl, someone you’ve only met once and she looks at you like she couldn’t care less whether you live or die. Rich and boring. Whipping out your phone to order a car and mentally preparing yourself to stand in the cold and wait for it takes all of your attention, so you miss the fact that someone had noticed you leaving and followed you out. You jump out of your skin at the footsteps behind you and whirl around ready to face the culprit. Whatever obscenities you were about to throw at the ghost that had snuck up on you got caught in your throat as you’re faced with a pair of familiar brown eyes.
“Jesus,” Stewy says. The corner of his mouth twitches with a smile, although he looks just as shocked as you. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you, I thought you heard me.”
“Well I didn’t.” You say, your hand still glued to your chest - your heart racing.
“Sorry.” He repeats. His smile falters when he realizes you aren’t as happy to see him as he is to see you.
“Where’s your girlfriend?” You ask, looking over his shoulder. You regret it as soon as it leaves your mouth because it sounds so fucking childish, also because the way he grins at you makes you want to slap him.
“Who?” He smiles. He knows exactly who you’re talking about. Despite talking to her all night, his eyes have been on you. Watching you angrily glance over at him. He wasn’t even interested in her, in all honesty, and a part of him feels bad for wasting her time all night. But a bigger part of him was getting a kick out of making you jealous. He just can’t help himself.
“No girlfriend.” He says when you don’t respond, you just roll your eyes and look back down at your phone. He peeks over your shoulder at what you’re doing and boldly tries to take your phone out of your hand. “No need for that, I'll give you a ride home.”
“Hey!” You hold your phone out of his reach and scoff a ‘no thank you’.
“Why not? Come on, I'm on my way out and I’m not leaving you standing out in the cold waiting for some creep to come pick you up.” His warm hand wraps around your elbow as he speaks. You’re a goner, you want to let him drive you home - or let his driver drive you home. You want that girl to see you get in the car with him and you can’t help but think about his hands wandering in the back seat. He watches you with a grin as you wrack your brain, trying to come up with an excuse to say no. But alas, one doesn’t come. It’s like your brain short circuited when he touched you - so ridiculous.
“Fine.” You say, letting him pull you towards his vehicle.
“Wow,” He laughs. “You gave up easily, I expected more of a fight.”
“I can still change my mind,” You stop in your tracks. “You can take your new girlfriend home instead.”
“Shut up.” He mumbles, his arm moving to wrap protectively around your waist this time as he guides you to the car. Fuck, what were you doing? Why does he always have this effect on you? But little do you know, he’s thinking the same fucking thing. He came here tonight hoping he wouldn’t see you. There was a quick second where he actually did think about taking the other woman home. But one look at you and he knew he couldn’t do it, it’s always been you for him. No one compares.
“So, yours?” He asks once you're both in the car, after he gallantly opened the door for you and helped you step into the vehicle. You nod, and the car ride is uncharacteristically silent. He doesn’t really know what to say and he knows you’ve always felt awkward speaking in front of random drivers. You much prefer it when he drives, unfortunately he didn’t know at the beginning of the night that he would be in a car with you. He would have happily sacrificed drinking to drive here in an expensive car and show off to you.
When the car stops outside your familiar apartment you both linger awkwardly.
“Am I allowed in?” He asks, his cheeky smile almost breaking your stoic act.
“No.” You say, opening the door and stepping out. You’re lucky that he knows you so well, that he recognises your sarcasm and could tell by the look in your eyes that you wanted him to follow you.
Stewy fishes for his wallet in his pocket and hands way too much money to the confused driver. “Don’t wait. Thanks, man.”
He practically jumps out of the car and races into the building, finding you waiting for him by the elevator. There’s suddenly an awkwardness in the air, neither of you wanting to address the ghosting after sex six months ago. The elevator is moving way to fucking slowly and you finally decide to just ask.
“Why didn’t you call?”
Stewy sighs, suddenly he feels like the elevator is way to small and moving way to fucking slowly.
“Why didn’t you?” Is all he can come up with. Stupid, he thinks. He doesn’t have an excuse so his immediate response is to get defensive. Fortunately, you recognise this in him.
“I was just asking.” You mumble. “Thought you might want to tell me about your girlfriend.”
Stewy, who was previously leaning against the elevator wall in an embarrassingly attractive way, stands up straight and throws his hands in the air.
“Will you drop it?” He asks, his voice sounds louder than he intended it to be. The small elevator that he suddenly feels trapped in making his voice echo off the walls. “I don’t have a fucking girlfriend and I don’t know why i didn’t call you. I just didn’t, okay?”
The bell that sounds as the doors slide open makes him jump and he’s the first to leave. You follow silently, suddenly wishing you hadn’t got into his car. He walks to your apartment door, knowing the way like the back of his hand.
“Why did you come? Because, honestly I’m confused.” You ask him as you reach the door. Standing in front of him, he’s so much taller than you but you force yourself to look into his eyes as you speak. “I assumed you didn’t call because you didn’t want to do this again. That’s the vibe you gave me. Now you’re following me home and arguing with me in the elevator. Why are you here?”
“Fuck-i, can you open the door?” He hesitates, looking around down the empty corridor.
“No.” You stand your ground. “Why are you here?”
“Because-“ He starts to speak but, fuck. He’s too much of a pussy to tell you he loves you. That he still loves you. So he does what he does best and kisses you instead. Your first instinct is to push him away and keep arguing. Demand an answer. But he’s so good at this, he makes it so easy to forget why you’re even mad at him. All that matters is that he’s here in front of you. Kissing you in front of your door and murmuring against your lips about opening the door.
You do as he asks, pulling away from his lips and fishing for your key. Once the door swings open you grasp his shoulders and pull him into the room, your lips meet him again and he slams the door behind you both. He grasps your hips to push you up against the door, smiling against your lips as you whine into his mouth. No, you had to tell him what you wanted to say.
“I thought you didn’t want me, or that you regretted it.” You pull away from his lips to blurt out. He looks surprised at first, but his eyes soften and you sense something else, guilt? He doesn’t know how to respond, god knows he’s never been good at talking about feelings. But god also knows that he’s damn good at showing them.
“Does this feel like I don't want you?” He asks, his voice drops into that deliciously low growl that you love. He pushed his hips into you, his erection pressing against your thigh. “Of course I don’t regret it. Not you.”
You smile up at him, he always knows what to say - and whether you believe it or not, it works.
“How about I show you how much I want you?” He whispers in your ear. “I’ve always dreamed about bending you over in front of this window. We can show the whole city how much I want you. How about that?”
You blush as he gestures to the floor to ceiling windows, the sprawling city underneath. Holy shit. Your words fail you as you look over his shoulder at the window. Although it sounds hot, you can’t help but be embarrassed at the thought of being seen. Although you’re several floors up from the busy streets below, someone might still look up at the right moment and get lucky.
“Come on.” He grins down at you, enjoying seeing you speechless. Leading you over to the couch, his hands make quick work of your dress and he shrugs off his own jacket. God, you always loved seeing him in just a button up shirt - the first few buttons undone like they are now. His hair is slightly messy. All he needed to do was roll up his sleeves a little and you’d be a goner.
His lips find yours again, his hands cradling your face as he kisses you as only an expert knows how. He places one final and playful kiss onto your lips before he grabs your shoulders and maneuvers you down onto the couch. Once you're seated he sinks down to his knees and you groan as he pushes up his fucking sleeves, sometimes you swear that he’s a mind reader.
He lifts one of your legs up, pressing a kiss to your ankle before resting your knee on his shoulder. He starts at your thighs - gentle kisses, his eyes watching you closely.
“God, you’re so fucking pretty baby.” He all but groans before he finally dives in, the first gentle sweep of his tongue has you leaning your head back against the couch with a sigh. He’s so skilled, it kind of pisses you off. You writhe and use his thumbs to gain access to your clit. His big brown eyes watching you all the while as he does everything he knows you love.
He thinks you look gorgeous, he always does, but never as much as you do right now. Your hands find his hair as a car horn from outside catches your attention. You almost forgot that he was eating you out on a couch in front of a huge window and it makes you laugh. He glances up at the sound of your breathy giggle and smirks against your skin.
He incorporates his fingers, expertly pressing into that spot inside of you that is guaranteed to finish the job. Though he holds off, slows down and takes his time. Reveling in your moans and whines as he slowly brings you to the edge.
There was something the both of you found painfully addictive about each other, and neither of you had figured it out yet. You wonder if you ever would. He loves seeing you fall apart for him, loves having you mewling at the end of his tongue. He works you gently through your orgasm, his mouth feeling like home around your swollen clit. He pulls away from you with a grin, dramatically wiping his mouth with the back of his hand - his tongue dipping out to further taste you when he licks his lips.
He stands up, towering over you as he rids himself of his shirt. You sit up, your hands flying to help him with his belt as he sheds the rest of his clothes. He climbs on top of you, you’re trapped underneath him on the couch - there's nowhere else you’d rather be. You’re suddenly thankful that you were able to afford a decent sized piece of furniture, because as awkward as sex on a couch is, it would be worse on a small one.
“Should we go to bed?” You ask, a last ditch attempt. His eyes travel to the window and you can see him thinking about it.
“No.” He finally answers. “I’ve been desperate to fuck you all night.”
He ends his sentence by taking his hard cock into his hand and lining himself up with your entrance.
“All night?” You tease. “Even while-“
“Yes, even while I was talking to my girlfriend.” He cuts you off, anticipating the joke long before you had even thought it up.
“Oh? So now she is your girlfriend?”
You’re annoying him, but the smile on your face and the way you’re laughing makes him smile back and laugh with you. He decides to shut you up, by sliding his fingers into your mouth. Your eyes widen but you take them easily- sliding your tongue over his fingers.
“Good girl.” He mumbles as he slides his now wet fingers out of your mouth and brings them down to your clit, pressing slow circles into it as he pushes into you. He holds still for a moment, his forehead dropping to press against yours. You grasp at his face as he starts to move, pulling his face down to yours so that you can sloppily kiss him as he fucks you.
He knows you inside out, making it look effortless as he makes you feel better than anyone else ever had. He’s talking you through it, whispering dirty things into your neck but you can hardly hear him over your own whimpers. He keeps up his pace, his lips are at your ear now - calling you beautiful, telling you how good your pussy feels and how much he loves hearing you moan his name.
“Fuck, i can feel you baby.” He moans, his skilled fingers slide down to your clit again.
“I’m so close.” You whine, you feel his hips stutter. Knowing he’s close too. You’re walls squeezing him - pulling him to the edge along with you.
“Come on baby.” He groans. “Come for me.”
You cling to his shoulders as you ride out your release, his name leaving your lips as if it's the only word you know. He carries on for a few more thrusts before he tenses and stills. Filling you up deliciously and equally beautiful moans of your name reaches your ears. Suddenly everything is calmer, your thumping heart beat and Stewy’s heavy breaths are the only sounds.
He slips out of you and sits up on the couch, helping you sit up next to him. You reach down for his shirt, suddenly feeling exposed - sitting naked on the couch. If you were in bed you could have pulled the covers over you, but his shirt that smells like his expensive cologne is just as good.
“So, are you gonna call this time?” You joke, breaking the ice.
“I don’t know.” He answers. “I might go home and call my new girlfriend instead.”
You look at him in pretend shock, pulling away halfheartedly when he reaches for you. You both laugh as he pulls you into his chest, his heart still hammering against your ear - his warm hands traveling up and down your back. You love him. That's the conclusion you’ve come to after tonight. So, what the fuck are you supposed to do now?
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