#d17nsfw

[divine17]

↳ FEZCO’S NSFW ALPHABET I | MASTERLIST

A/N: This turned out (unsurprisingly) to be way longer than I thought, so I’ve split it into two parts, half and half. Part two can be found here.

Aftercare 

“Fuck,” You sigh, leaning back onto the pillow beneath you. Your heart is pounding and your chest is rising and falling quickly as you catch your breath, and you can’t help but look at the boy beside you. His eyes are tired and his face is flushed bright pink, but there’s a slight grin spread across his cheeks. 

“Tell me what you need.” He whispers, voice a little raspy. You shake your head, and he looks curious. He’s about to start suggesting things when you finally speak, a lazy smile on your lips.

“It’s okay, I just want you.” 

He nods, pulling you into him. Your head rests against his bare chest and you wrap your arm across his stomach, curling into him. You cant even bring yourself to care that he’s a little sweaty, you’re just so tired and happy. Fez pulls the comforter up to cover your body a bit, giving you shelter from the cold air. 

Honestly, if he didn't love the sex so much, the aftercare might just be his favorite part. The holding, touching, kissing. How you do so much for him every damn day, and how he can finally flip the script and do something for you. A towel, a glass of water, a kiss on the forehead. 

Anything you could ever need, he’s got it. 

Body Part

“Fez? You ask, glancing over at him. He’s at the kitchen table, money in his hands, but he looks up at you. “What’s your favorite part about me?”

“What d’ya mean?” His eyebrows furrow slightly, confused. Did you just ask what he thought you'd asked?

“What’s your favorite part, like, about my body?”

He thinks for a moment, looking back at the machine, placing another stack of cash inside. There were so many things he loved about you, he really wasn't sure if he could manage to pick one, single thing to be his favorite. Your eyes were something he'd always loved. He admired the color, how it was so pretty to gaze into, and how expressive they were. He could probably get lost in them forever, if you'd let him.

But he also loved your hands, how delicate they were and how your skin was so soft, compared to his large, rough ones. He liked when your fingers stroked his cheek when you thought he was asleep, brushing over the freckles on his face as if you were memorizing each and every one of them. And how you held his hand whenever you needed reassurance, fingers laced together, a perfect fit like they'd been sculpted specifically for one another.

But his very favorite, he thought, would have to be you. Your heart, your soul, your mind. Your heart was full of kindness and empathy. You could connect with damn near anyone. And you had such a beautiful mind, you held so much knowledge and wisdom and you almost always had the answer to any question he asked.

“I think it’s just all of you, baby.”

Cum

A series of panted breaths escape Fez, followed by a sharp sigh of your name, and tangled together with a couple curses as his thrusts grow faster as he bucks into you, one hand gripping your hip and the other resting on the small of your back. Your soft, pretty little moans and the way you’re grabbing at the sheets only spur him on.

“Fuck, baby,” He sighs, baby blue eyes fluttering shut, head tilting back. Just the sight of you bent down on your elbows beneath him, tits pressed against the mattress and ass in the air, flesh red from the sharp smacks… He couldn’t find the words for it, but honestly, it was utterly fucking mesmerizing. Fez feels the knot in his stomach tightening, his is head getting hazy, until…

“I’m gonna cum,” You pant, lifting your head up. He feels his grip on your hip tightening and tries to make a mental note to apologize for that later, but he isn’t really sure he can hold a coherent thought at the moment. All it takes is him mumbling a small ‘come for me, pretty girl,’ and you’re coming undone around his cock. He feels himself getting close, he’s almost there, and the way you gasp his name is enough for him.

In one swift motion, he pulls out, and the next few moments are a blur as he loses himself in his orgasm. God, you’re so beautiful, even covered in his cum. He literally couldn’t imagine anything hotter than the vision in front of him. You were perfect, and he was so amazed by you.

Dirty Secrets

“What’s your biggest fantasy?” The guy says, nudging his friend’s side teasingly as they walk down the aisle. Fezco can’t help but eavesdrop on their conversation, curious about the context. What the fuck where they talking about? And in public, no less? The store was empty, save for him and the two of them, but still.

“I dunno, man…” The other one says, picking up a bag of chips from the stand. Fez looks down at his phone, pretending that he’s not listening, but he gets to thinking… What’s his biggest fantasy, he wonders? Does he even have one?

His mind immediately wanders off, giving him his answer. Yeah, yeah, he did have one, it seemed.

The how and why didn’t much matter to him, but in his mind, he’s sitting on the couch and you’re knelt in front of him. No one else is home, so there’s no worries about anyone walking in. Your mouth his on his cock and there’s a hand tangled in your hair, and he feels himself getting close. Just as you feel him begin to twitch, you pull away, a wicked little smirk on your lips.

“I wanna try something.” Your voice is sultry and sweet, he can only bring himself to nod in agreement, giving you the go-ahead.

You pull your bra down your chest, exposing your tits. God, he can feel his mind slipping away further, as gross as it seems, as you open your mouth, letting spit drip down onto your skin. You take him in your hand and slip his cock under the band of your bra, between your boobs. He’s hesitant, caught up not wanting to hurt you, but you glance up at him with a devilish look in your eyes and he’s gone, hips giving a cursory thrust.

And now, Fezco has never been more glad that he chose to wear sweatpants to work.

Experience

You’d asked Fez once or twice before if he’d been with anyone other than you, and you couldn’t help but be surprised by his answer. Honestly, you just kind of assumed he was pretty experienced in the bedroom. It seemed like he knew exactly how to please you, how to make you melt like putty in his hands. He was a quick learner, and took the time to learn your body, your reactions, how to get you to make whatever sound or shiver he wanted you to.

“Uh, just a few.” He’d said, tone sort of nervous. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen him so flustered. “Three. Well, kinda four, I think, but I’on think she’d count it. Nah, she wouldn’t count it.”

A curious laugh escaping you, you couldn’t help but ask what in the world that meant. He sighed slightly and you assured him that he didn’t have to tell you, it would be okay if he wanted to keep it to himself, but he admitted it was a little funny, so he’d tell you. But you had to swear it wouldn’t ever leave the room. You agreed.

“When I was, like, sixteen, I met this girl, right? She told me to come over and she’d show me a good time, so I got high, like real high, ‘cause I was excited. So I go, and we’re talkin’, and uh, y’know… I came fast. Real fast. It was an accident, but… Think she was mad.” He trails off, finishing his story. You shrug slightly.

“Happens to the best of us, baby. But, if it’s any consolation, I can promise you’ve gotten better since then.”

Favorite Position

Fez would be lying if he said he didn’t really have any particular favorite. It’s true that it’s one of those things where he doesn’t mind very much, and the position is rarely ever consciously chosen. It just kind of… Happens, y’know? He always prefers to go with the flow of things, but there are a couple that he loves, and it’s always a nice treat when they happen, he wouldn’t ever really go out of his way for them. However, if you have a favorite, he will try to make it happen whenever and however you want it to. There’s very few things in the world that he loves more than pleasing his partner.

He knows some people call it boring and think it’s pretty vanilla, but he likes having you in missionary. He likes how intimate (or, how absolutely filthy) it can feel, and he likes to see your face. To be able to see your reaction when he touches here, or kisses or bites there. Being able to kiss you is nice, too. And the feeling of your legs wrapped around his waist or your heels being pressed into the backs of his thighs always drives him a little crazy.

On the other hand, he also likes when you ride him, especially when he’s high. That way, he can just lean back, his hands on your hips, and just enjoy the pure, heightened sensations. Your weight on his thighs, the way your fingers dig into his arm when you’re close. How he lazily kisses your neck and chest, leaving little love bites where he can reach.

At the end of the day, he just likes having your body so close to his.

Goofy

You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, Fez’s head between your thighs and you’re getting close, just about to tell him when…

“What the fuck?!”

Your head snaps up at the sound of Rue’s voice, immediately taking you out of the bliss you’d been in moments earlier. It takes Fez a second to realize what’s happening, but he seems chill when he realizes, but you’re somehow reminiscent of a deer in headlights. Frozen, desperately trying not to make eye contact with the girl standing in the kitchen doorway. She’s surprised, you’re surprised, and the both of you seem as if you’re lost in your own confusion for a moment before she turns around with a quickness.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll come back later. Have fun.” She says quickly, hand shielding her eyes as she turns the corner to leave. You hear her mumble a quiet ‘ugh’ as she opens the front door, but you immediately look down at Fez.

“I think we might’ve just ruined her night… And we’re never gonna hear the end of it. “

“She didn’t knock.” He shrugs, and you can swear there’s the tiniest smirk tugging at his lips. “Her bad for walkin’ in on that.”

And just like that, somehow, after such an embarrassing moment, he manages to make you laugh.

Hair

To be completely honest, Fezco hadn’t ever really thought about his hair very much, wherever it may be.

He liked the brown hair atop his head, and he liked to keep it in a short buzz cut. He didn’t get as hot in the sweltering California heat, and it was so low maintenance that he didn’t have to deal with it too often. And his beard just kind of… Grew. All he had to do was trim it up every couple weeks to keep it nice.

But the mop of ginger curls downstairs… That was kind of another thing entirely.

At first, before the two of you were together, he barely paid that hair any mind, not doing much with it aside from the occasional messy trim. He figured it was fine enough as it was, not hurting anything to just (mostly) ignore it. He really has no problem with body hair, whether it be on him, a partner, or anyone else. It’s just hair.

But when the two of you got together, he realized, quite frankly, that the mess probably wasn’t very attractive to you. He would trim them up short to be more manageable, and then ask how you’d prefer it… When he’s high, of course, he wasn’t sure that was a conversation he could have when he was dead sober. After that, he’d keep them however you preferred. If it didn’t matter to you, he would still trim them and keep it all neat.

Intimacy

Call him a sucker if you want, but Fezco loves intimacy. Not even just when it’s sexual, either, but also not in a clingy sort of way. He loves all of the little moments, like when you’re both about to fall asleep and your head is on his chest and he’s twirling your hair between his fingers. Or when you take turns stealing light kisses and little laughs between customers at the shop, or how you look in the car on the drive home while you sing along to the radio, even if the light from the passing street lamps outside is dim and he can barely see you.

He loves you, and so naturally, he loves being close to you. He loves the way you smell, how soft your skin is, how he can feel your heartbeat in your chest when he lays on you. He loves how you curl up to him at night when you’re in bed, how he can feel your chest rising and falling against him.

Despite that, it’s not really too common for the two of you to have a lot of alone time together. Ashtray is usually hanging around the shop or the house, and it seems like Rue’s always over for some reason or another. And with Faye staying at the house lately, Fez has had his hands a little full, to say the least… Somehow, that only makes it sweeter when you do have those little moments together, and he loves it more than damn near anything else in the world.

Jack Off

Sometimes, at night when Fezco is laying in bed and he hasn’t seen you for a while because life got in the way, his mind starts drifting. His mind gets filled with the thought of you, how you’re so pretty and how he misses you. The way you smell, your laugh… He dreams of you.

And, sometimes, that thought turns into the memory of your lips wrapped around his cock, his hands holding your hair into a messy makeshift ponytail as you take him in your mouth. Or how he bent you over the dresser last week, your bare ass pressed to his front as your hands hurriedly tried to unbuckle his belt from behind. His mind is flooded, and it doesn’t take long for it to become nearly unbearable.

Tonight was one of those nights, and it was driving him damn near crazy.

“Fuck it,” Fez mumbles, letting his hand snake underneath the duvet. He’s already hard, but he still palms himself for a moment before sliding the thin boxers down his thighs.

He starts with a long, languid stroke up his length, tinged with uncertainty. He wouldn’t be lying if he said he hadn’t really done this in a while. His body shivers lightly as he strokes again, a little tighter this time, focusing on the picture in his mind… How great your ass looked in those red shorts you’d slept over in and how he’d love to strip them off of you, to bend you over the table. It’s not long before he finds a steady, confident rhythm. Small, sharp breaths in, his little gasps barely audible over the sound of the TV in the background.

As he grows closer, he can feel himself losing control. His movements become more and more desperate, chasing the release he so badly craved now. Hips bucking into his hand slightly, his grasp growing tighter and the warm in his stomach pooling. It’s only a moment later that he comes undone with a low groan of your name.

Fuck.

Kink

Fezco honestly probably wouldn’t really consider himself kinky. “Kinky” to him would probably be the freaky shit like chains and whips, leather and latex, that BDSM shit he saw on PornHub.

That doesn’t mean he isn’t a little kinky, though.

Mostly a dom (and flexible on top/bottom), he loves giving and receiving praise inside and outside of the bedroom. Mostly giving it, but a “you’re doing so good, baby” or “my pretty boy” goes a long way for him. He wants to know every little thing about your body and how to get you to make the sounds or shivers he wants, and he loves the feeling of doing something so well that you can’t help but tell him.

Buuuuut, on that same note… He’s kind of really into controlling your orgasm. Getting you so close to the edge that you’re grabbing the sheets, a whining, panting mess, and then suddenly telling you not to cum just yet, because he knows it’ll hit you harder when you do. The overstimulation aspect of it is honestly really hot to him. He’s not a cruel dom or really even a demanding one, he just wants you to feel the pleasure he’s giving you as much as you can, and overstimulation is a great way to do that.

Also, maybe a tiny bit of that freaky shit from the internet… If you wanted it, he’s not completely opposed to tying your hands to the headboard with one of his ties, or putting them behind your back with a belt.

Location

Ever since he was little, Fezco always valued his privacy. He liked having a small circle, and keeping his people close, and that definitely stayed with him as an adult, and especially during something as personal as sex.

He prefers quiet, private places, mostly in his room where he knows no one is likely to walk in. He likes to take his time with you, to make sure you’re both enjoying yourselves to the fullest, and he values the comfort of knowing no one’s going to interrupt that. He can lock the door and it’s almost like he’s in his own little world, if the two of you can manage to keep the noise down.

But, with that in mind, he’s not above a quickie somewhere not so private. If the mood strikes and it’s too hard to wait until you get home, or neither of you really want to wait, he’s not totally opposed to it. You’ve definitely fucked in the bathroom of some dude’s house party… Or two, and definitely in the backseat of his car a couple times.

And the house… Oh God, as long as Ashtray isn’t home and Rue’s not around, the house is kind of free rein. They’d be so disgusted to know that you and Fez have fucked on the kitchen counter, and the couch, and in the shower… Shit, maybe even on the dining table too, he can’t really remember anymore.

[divine17]

↳ MY FAVORITE PART | MASTERLIST

Request: "can we get a fez x reader smut where it’s from his point of view and he just literally thinks the reader is the best thing to ever grace this earth? best pussy he’s ever had, biggest heart he’s ever seen, and damn he might be in love or sum shit” - Anon

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Mostly NSFW, sort of fluffy (if you squint), protected sex, oral (m!receiving), love confession (?)

A/N: Tomorrow's my birthday & tonight is The Finale so y'all get another kind of self-indulgent little Fezco thing I wrote… As a treat 🙏🏻

Fezco was not a soft person, he was sure of it. He couldn’t be.

His lifestyle had consequences, and he was aware of that. His world was filled with dangerous people, bad people who would take advantage of any softness or vulnerability people like him showed. His grandmother swore that it would always come down to life or death, and he believed her. So, over the years, he became good at detaching himself from it all. He didn’t think much about the drugs he dealt or the guns he kept in the cabinets, or the security cameras watching his house. Instead, he focused on Ash and taking care of his grandma, and you. But never did he outwardly, publicly show his love for anyone, for fear he, or even worse, they, would get hurt because of it.

However, he’d be the first to admit that you had a special way of getting to him, and he couldn’t even hide it.

You were everything he had been taught not to be; you were sweet, and you were soft, and you expressed your love so freely in a way that he couldn’t help but admire. And you had the biggest, kindest heart he’d ever seen. You loved him in spite of all the flaws, and you cared for him regardless of the things he’d done. Even more, your love wasn’t confined to him or Ashtray. Entirely selfless, and you’d do your best to help damn near anyone who would ever need it. That was just another thing he admired about you. You lived your life on your own terms, by your own rules, but still managed to be so open and caring, unlike anyone else he’d ever met.

He couldn’t even remember how, or when the two of you met. You’d always just kind of… Been there, always by his side. You knew what he did, and you stuck with him through it all. You were his best friend, his confidante, always keeping him grounded. You were the person who’s approval he strived for, the person who seemed to absolve him at the end of the day. Or that’s how it felt, at least.

And lately, he think he might be in love with you, and he wasn’t quite sure how it happened.

When he was young, before she got sick, his grandma had always made sure to pass on her knowledge to him. About the world, about the life they lived, about people in general. She’d been living it all so long, and now that her grandbabies were involved, she wanted Fezco to learn from her, to help him not make the same mistakes she had. Especially not the ones with such big prices…

“Don’t fall in love. It’s the one instinct you can’t trust.”

He wasn’t sure what her price for falling in love had been, and being so young, he’d never thought to ask. Honestly, though? He never really pictured himself doing the same. Loving someone, that is. He loved Ash, and that had always been enough… But lately, it seemed like his heart had grown a little more.

Thoughts of you constantly drifted through his mind, clouding all his other thoughts. Memories of the two of you at the county fair, the night you accidentally won that giant teddy bear, the one that sat in the corner of his room now. Or the memory of you in the pool last summer, begging him to get in with you until you eventually just pulled him into the cold water, jeans and all. He wasn’t even mad. He couldn’t be. Not when you laughed so sweetly, your eyes and nose crinkled up as he splashed you. And on the days he didn’t see you, he couldn’t help but wonder if you ever thought of him like that too, but he always decided that you probably didn’t.

Now, the sound of the TV startled him out of his thoughts. He hadn’t even realized you’d put something on, or that he’d zoned out like that, but he quickly decides to drop what he’d been thinking about. Instead, he focuses on the task at hand. Leaned over the nightstand, he’d started rolling a blunt for the two of you. Halfway through, he zoned out, it seems.

You’re laid across the bed beside him, wearing one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts, legs stretched out over the comforter. His room is warm from the humid summer breeze drifting through the window, but you don’t seem to mind. When he glances over at you to check on you, you look comfortable. Head pressed against one of his pillows, watching whatever you’d just put on.

When he finishes, Fezco is quick to grab the lighter from the table and spark up, hoping the weed will help relax his mind a bit. He’s careful to blow the smoke away from you as he exhales, letting the fan carry it away somewhere outside. A moment later, he swings his legs up on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. You scoot to the side to give him more room, so he adjusts to be more comfortable… And so he doesn’t fall off, honestly.

His bed is small and even after the two of you settle down, the side of his body still presses into yours. His arm bumps your stomach lightly as he hands you the blunt, but neither of you really care. This was practically a routine for the two of you. You’d come over and get comfy on the couch or in his bed, he’d roll one, and you’d spend the night making each other laugh or watching some dumb movie, finishing the night with a delivery from whatever restaurant was open so late.

“What are we watchin’?” He asks, glancing up at the screen. He doesn’t recognize the cartoon at all.

You laugh, passing it back to him. “Gonna be honest, I don’t know.”

“How don’t you know? You put it on.” He teases, a smile pulling at his lips.

“Just chose something random. Nothing else looked good.” You shrug, and he can’t help but laugh. He watches the characters dance around a restaurant, around the patrons. An animated boy cracking some lighthearted one-liner, the little girl saying something half-heartedly mean in response. His dad looks unamused, but the other girl beside him laughs, and he can’t help but chuckle at it too. It’s cute, he decides. Whatever it is, he likes it.

“Is anyone home?” You ask. Ash was sitting at the kitchen table when you came in, and you were sure to ruffle his hair as you passed by. He rolled his eyes and jokingly flipped you off, and you had to grin. You were pretty sure he mentioned that he was on his way out, but you honestly couldn’t remember if that was today or not.

“No, Ash said he was goin’ to the shop.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you watch the little show in front of you, passing the blunt back and forth between you until there’s nothing left. After a while, you both kind of give up on giving each other any personal space. Your head rests against his chest, his arm around your back. It’s comfortable, it feels nice. And as dumb as it sounds, the closeness makes his heart beat a little quicker.

At some point, he can't help but look down at you, admiring you. You're so beautiful, like you couldn't even be human. Something so divine couldn't be, he thinks. The love and softness in your eyes, that couldn't be made by anyone other than God themself. After a moment, you notice, looking up at him, asking if he's okay.

“Yeah. Just think you’re pretty, that's all.”

You laugh, shaking your head, ready to make some dumb joke back at him, but the words dry up in your throat. His baby blue eyes are so bright in the evening sunlight, and he looks at you so softly. You could swear there’s some kind of love behind them, but your own eyes fall down to his lips…

“Can I kiss you?”

Fez would be lying if he said he didn’t think, just for a moment, that he might’ve imagined you saying that. He nods anyway, his heartbeat beginning to quicken as you move closer. He thinks it might just fly out of his chest when he feels your hand lay on his stomach, gently pushing yourself up to his level. Your lips are so soft and you taste so sweet, filling up his senses.

He kisses you until you're both out of breath, and you pull away, stupid grins on your faces as you look at each other. He isn’t sure he’s ever felt this… Well, he wasn’t sure exactly how he was feeling, but it was good. Like, really good. And it only feels better when you go in for another kiss.

This one is deeper. Something about it is different, somehow. It's needy, almost, like you’re searching for something within each other. You shift to straddle him, and your weight on top of him and he can feel his mind slipping, sending his mind somewhere else entirely. He tries to shake it away, but then, he feels your hands sliding further down his chest.

“Is it okay if I, uh?” He glances down at your shirt. You nod, and he can swear he sees the tiniest smirk on your lips. His hands shake slightly as they move to the hem of the fabric, pulling it over your head carefully, you sliding down to his thighs through the action. He forces himself to take a deep breath when he sees your skin, realizing you weren’t wearing a bra. He almost apologizes for taking it off until you lean down to kiss his cheek, peppering kisses down his jaw. A little hum escapes him, and you giggle slightly, your hand palming his cock, and he silently prays you don't feel that he's already kind of hard.

“Is it okay if I, um, touch you?” You ask. Honestly, at this point, Fez isn’t fully convinced he isn’t in heaven. You kissing him was enough, but you asking that? Not thinking, he nods, probably a little too quickly, but you don’t seem to care. Instead, your hand pushes up his shirt to untie his sweatpants, dipping underneath the waistband of his boxers. He gasps when you stroke him, exhaling a shaky breath when you do it again.

“You really know what you want, baby.”

You can’t help but smile when you hear his words. Baby. The nickname feels comfortable falling from his lips, which pleasantly surprises both of you. He can’t help but watch you, admiration in his eyes.

“Mhm.” You mumble, kissing his tummy. He knows what you’re working toward, he isn’t clueless, but his hand still reaches to grasp the sheet beneath him when he feels your hand stroke him again, let alone your tongue against his cock. You lick his length, tongue swirling around his flushed tip. He shivers at the contact, the feeling of your mouth around him. You’re so warm and hot and he already feels that knot in his stomach forming when you hollow your cheeks like that, he can feel you everywhere.

His mouth falls open in a quiet gasp, and all he can do is watch as the moments pass, silently pleading with his mind for his eyes not to flutter shut. Not now, not while your perfect lips were wrapped around him like that. He can’t help it, but he brings his hand to run through your hair, into a makeshift sort of ponytail. There’s no force, no tugging, which surprises you. He’s just letting his hand rest there, comfortably keeping it out of your face.

And he’s busy thinking that you’re so pretty, even like this… Honestly, especially like this. His attention only slips when he notices your hand buried beneath the waistband of your shorts, and how your breath hitches in your throat for a moment. You’re touching yourself.

“Fuck, c’mere.” He groans, a sigh escaping him. When you obey, beginning to move toward him, he catches you in a kiss. He doesn’t notice, or maybe doesn’t care, the spit and lingering taste of himself on your lips. Instead, he kisses you passionately, hands coming to hold your waist.

“Wanna taste you.” He mumbles when he pulls away, lips brushing against your cheek. You shake your head, and he looks up at you with some sort of questioning glance.

“I really want you to fuck me.” Your hand combs lazily through his hair as he kisses your neck, surely leaving a little purple mark, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’d just have to cover it up tomorrow.

He shifts to look into your eyes above him, searching for any sign of uncertainty behind them. “You sure?”

“Fez, I’ve wanted you forever.” You laugh playfully, and the sound is like music to his ears. Or maybe it’s the ‘wanted you forever’ that sends that euphoric hit of dopamine to his brain, he isn’t sure, but it sounds damn good to him either way.

With that, he nods. It’s a little clumsy, how the two of you manage to get each other’s remaining clothes off through a series of broken, heated kisses, but it works. He barely glances at the piles of discarded clothing as he reaches to the nightstand, pulling a condom from the drawer.

You’re surprised by how easily he manages the flip the two of you over, and by how soft his hands feel as they roam across your body, his lips leaving messy kisses along your neck, peppering them down your breasts. His beard scratches your skin, leaving little red splotches across your body. Your hands are in his hair, and you hardly notice him put the condom on until he’s lined up at your entrance, one hand on your hip and the other resting against the pillow behind your head.

You can’t help but let out a soft moan when you feel him begin to push into you carefully, filling you up. He’s not far behind, a shaky gasp leaving his lips when he bottoms out inside you. The first thrust is slow, hesitant, letting you get used to him, but the second is deeper, which makes you sigh a small ‘fuck,’ only encouraging him.

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to find a natural rhythm, making the, admittedly, sort of awkward position and lack of space work so perfectly. Your legs wrap lazily around his hips, keeping him close as he drives into you. His hand moves to rub your clit, the other keeping him steady as his thrusts grow harder. It’s hard to stay so gentle and slow when the whine you make when he hits that sweet spot inside you sounds so beautiful.

And, honestly? Both of you are sure you’re probably being too noisy, but lost in each other, neither of you care. No one’s home, and he’s sure as hell not gonna tell you to be quiet. Not when his name sounds like a prayer when it falls from your lips, nestled between soft moans or little whines and swears.

It’s not long until you feel yourself getting close, your grasp on his arm tightening as he drives into you.

“Fez,” You sigh, eyes opening to look up at him. There’s a thin sheen of sweat across his forehead and his head is dropped in pleasure. Somehow, you feel like you can’t take your eyes off him. “I’m so close.”

“Then cum for me, baby.” He says, a think smirk pulling at his lips. His thumb begins to rub your clit faster, your hips buck into his touch. He knows he’s doing something right, with the way your walls tighten around him. “C’mon, pretty girl.”

You’re surprised that his words are enough to send you over the edge, but you melt into him when the waves of heightened pleasure begin to crash over you. And honestly, he’s not far behind. Just the sight of your face, lips parted and eyes held shut, the feeling of your nails digging into his arm… It’s too much, and he comes undone with a small moan and a string of mumbled words, your name mingled somewhere between them.

The two of you help each other through your highs before he collapses on the bed beside you, half laying on you, but you can’t bring yourself to mind it. Fezco’s head races with thoughts of what had just happened, and how happy he is… But mostly, he thinks about how you said you’d wanted this forever. And before he can realize it, he’s speaking.

“Did you really mean that?” He asks. “When you said, uh, y’know, you wanted me for forever?”

You look over at him, a loopy little grin on your face, and you nod. “Mhm. I tried dropping hints but you never noticed, dummy.”

He laughs, and you shift from underneath his arm, coming to rest your head on his chest. You can hear him breathing and his heart beats quickly as you plant a small kiss to his flushed pink skin, which makes you smile.

“I don’ know if you feel like this too, but… Maybe we could, like… Be together, if you want.” His words are nervous, but certain. His hand shakes slightly as he rubs your shoulder, eyes closed in some kind of bliss.

“You don’t have to be so nervous.” You say, and there’s a hint of relief in your voice, and your laugh. You decide to tease him for a moment, that sarcastic nature slipping out a little. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

He nods carefully, silently wondering whether he’d fucked up or not until you start laughing, pushing up to kiss him. When you pull away, you finally whisper your answer, the real one…

“Of course, Fez.”

And with that, the two of you lay in the little bed peacefully, barely paying attention to the long forgotten show on TV. Instead, you just talk. About life, about work and sex and everything in between until both of you realize… You probably really are in love with each other. For real. And it feels fucking fantastic.

taglist (add yourself here): @bigpoppajes @maudesfolklore @leah-bobeea @lavbeeros @a-r-s56 @sia2raw @poisxnedmind @nesswastaken @chaoticevilbakugo @mgkbabygirl @rosepetalsparks @kayasholland @bxmaaa @rosie-anne @withlovealwaysxx @hpleasingstyles @enchantedbutterflies

[divine17]

↳ FEEL IT OUT | MASTERLIST

Request: “Imagine Fez being your fwb, but knowing you can’t have each other bc... reasons”  - Anon

Warnings: Very NSFW, oral (reader receiving), reader smokes weed w/ Fez & mentions of alcohol, slightly fluffy if you squint

Word Count: 2.0k

A/N: Didn't really know what “reasons” means so I filled it in. Hopefully it's alright though. Also! This is the first real smut I’ve written in… an embarrassingly long time. Please go easy on me if it’s kinda shit lol

“We can’t do this again.”

Your chest floats up and down quickly as you try to catch your breath, your eyes drifting over to Fezco. He’s laying beside you, his hand resting on your thigh, thumb stroking the soft skin. There’s a thin layer of sweat across his forehead, cheeks flushed soft pink. He stays quiet, unsure of what to say, letting you both take the moment to think.

This was complicated. Way too fucking complicated.

Fezco was like a brother to Rue, and Rue was like a sister to you; And she’d almost definitely lose her fucking mind if she found out you slept together, you knew that much for sure. You couldn’t do this again. This was the latest in your recent string of hookups with Fez, and as great as it was, it wouldn’t happen again. It couldn’t.

“Rue would flip her shit.” He says, his voice faltering. You nodded, and he sighed lightly.

“Do you think she’d…?” You trail off, not wanting to finish the sentence. It hurt too much to say out loud, asking if it was enough to make her relapse again. She had just started doing well again and neither of you could bear the thought of being responsible for her going back down that road, especially if it was over something so stupid as sex.

“Nah,” Fez looks over at you, and you can't help but admire him, but his words quickly snap you out of it. “but I think she’d be pissed.”

The two of you fell back into a comfortable, contemplative silence, laying together in the warm bed. You couldn’t tell how much time had passed before someone finally spoke again. It felt like minutes and hours had passed in the same breath; Time tended to blur together like that when you were with him.

“So that’s it.”

“Yeah.”

After that, you decided that avoiding him entirely was the easiest prevention. No closing the shop together after dark, no more smoking in his car, no being alone together. That plan was quickly busted when Fez told you that Ashtray had started to grow suspicious of why you'd disappeared so suddenly; And when Ash thought something was up, he got answers, one way or another. So, you started coming around again, but your same unspoken rules still applied.

Next, a couple weeks after yours and Fez’s last incident, you found yourself in the living room of the large house, thumping bass and trap beats filling your ears, a haze of smoke covering you. The smell of alcohol and weed and the warmth from the tipsy bodies around you filled your senses as you watched the scene before you. You needed a drink, you decided, and headed to the kitchen.

The counters were messy, full of empty bottles and what looked to be someone’s belongings. A phone, a wallet, a photo of a little dog. You were sure they'd regret leaving it all there soon enough, but chose to ignore the items as you searched for a cup... To no success. Who the fuck threw a house party with no cups?

“Think you’re lookin’ for this.”

You turned around quickly at the familiar voice, almost dizzying yourself. Fezco stood in the doorway, a thin, smile on his face, blunt behind his ear and a cup in his hands.

“Didn’t know you’d be here.” You said lightly, unable to help the smile that appeared on your lips. It was nice to see him, even if you knew he was just here on business. you took the cup, beginning to pour the rest of the near-empty bottle of vodka into it. “Rue?”

“And Jules, they’re ‘round here… Somewhere.” He shrugs, hand gesturing in the direction of the living room. He looks around for the girls for a moment, lazily, like he's not quite really focused on it. You nod, pouring a lukewarm bottle of juice into your drink as a mixer, taking a sip.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, and you're just happy to be around him for the first time in a few days. The blunt tucked behind his ear looks tempting, and you’re tired of being in such a hot, busy room already, so you ask...

“Can we go smoke?”

Now, you’re sitting on the bathroom counter, Fezco beside you, and you can feel the high starting to creep up on you. You can't help but stare at him as he takes a hit, rolling the blunt between his fingers, as much as you knew you shouldn't. He’s so beautiful, and stubborn that he’d never believe you if you told him. In this light, a dim, moonlit haze, he looks so delicate. There’s a halo of smoke swirling in the air above his head. In some way, he looked angelic.

And he’s got a piece of glitter on his cheek.

“Fez, look at me,” You whisper, a smile breaking out onto your face. Thoughtlessly, he obeys, turning to look at you. His baby blue eyes are so bright, and he looks at you with such trust… You bring your thumb to his cheek, gently brushing away the shimmery, purple spot.

Neither of you think as it happens, but before you can realize it, your lips are pressed against his. He doesn’t hesitate, kissing you back instantly, letting his hand come to hold his weight against the side of the counter beneath you. You can’t help but smile against him, which makes him laugh, breaking the kiss.

“I’m sorry.” You giggle, forehead pressed to his. Your hair is ticklish against his skin, but he can’t bring himself to care. He was a little high, and he was pretty sure this felt like heaven.

“Nah, you ain’t.”

You shrug slightly, pressing another kiss to his plush lips. “No, I’m not.”

He laughs for a moment, brushing your hair out of your face before he presses one final kiss to your lips… Or that was his intention, at least. Your hand comes to rest on the side of his neck and his to your thigh, fingers dancing underneath the hem of your dress and against the warm skin underneath. It makes you sigh happily, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips. You tasted sweetly of citrus and faintly of liquor, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

It only took another moment before his hand was pushing your dress up entirely, fingertips grazing along the inside of your parted thighs, almost teasingly. You open your mouth to speak, practically ready to beg him not to tease, but you’re silenced by his scratchy beard against your neck as he kisses your face, where jaw connects with ear. Slowly, he trails down the side of your neck, across your throat, leaving a soft hickey mark across your collarbone.

“No,” You manage to say, your voice soft. He half-groans in disapproval, but you shush him with your next words. “not where anyone can see.”

His hand between your thighs moves again, bringing his thumb to brush across your panties, feeling your pooling wetness through the thin fabric. A pretty moan escapes you and it only encourages him, his fingers beginning to slip underneath the waistband, pulling it down. He lets it snap against your skin, causing you to buck your hips slightly, followed quickly by his palm swiping over the stinging skin to soothe it.

“Fuck,” You sigh, a little annoyed. He knew right where you needed him, and you were almost certain that he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily. “why do you have to tease like that?”

He shrugs, repeating his action from before. Except when he pulls the thin cotton down, you feel the opposite side pulling too, and down your legs and off your body as he drops them in the floor. Just when you think it’s getting good, he stops, a sly little smirk dancing on his lips.

Instead, he turns his attention to your chest. His fingers hook into the straps of your dress, softly pulling them down your arms. Your breasts exposed, it’s only a moment before he takes one in his large hand, gently rolling your nipple between his fingers. Licking, squeezing, sucking. This earns another soft moan, and another as he takes the opposite between his lips, tongue swirling over the sensitive skin. His movements were slow and languid, relaxed, and making you a whining mess in his palms far quicker than you’d like to admit.

“Please, Fez,” You mewl, bringing your hand to rest on the side of his head. “no more. No more, please.”

He smirks against your flesh, and you can’t even find it in you to be annoyed when he bites just lightly enough for you to feel, sending electric running through your body. He presses a hungry kiss to your lips as his hands work on pulling the top part of your dress back up, covering you. Next, you feel his hands sliding down your waist, down your hips, and, oh… His hands wrap around the bottom of your thighs, pulling your core closer to the edge of the counter in one swift, sort of ungraceful movement.

He breaks the kiss, and as you’re catching your breath, you suddenly feel his mouth against your heat. You’re warm beneath his tongue and you taste just as nice as he remembered, your body tensing slightly as he works his tongue around your clit. A series of small kitten licks quickly turns into the bud between his lips, softly sucking and long, flat stripes over you. You try to keep quiet, you really do, given the situation, but you’re unsuccessful. You can’t help but shudder as the needy, desperate little moans fall from your lips before you can even properly register them. They’re like music to his ears, and he craves more.

Fez brings one arm to lay carefully across your stomach, a halfhearted attempt to keep you from squirming too much. You can only watch the way his head moves as he works between your thighs, but even that only lasts a moment before your eyes flutter shut. Your hand is softly pressed against the side of his head, and he can tell you’re starting to give in to the sensation rapidly building in your tummy, your thighs beginning to squeeze against him slightly.

You can’t help but let out a cry of pleasure as you feel his two fingers slide into you with ease, filling your empty space so nicely. He gives you just a moment to adjust before moving, and you’re so sensitive that it only takes one, two, three curls of his fingers into that special spot before you’re arching into him, coming undone on his tongue. Hands grabbing at what little hair he had, breathy moans falling from your lips. A series of quiet swears and whimpers of his name delight him.

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen a prettier sight than you, eyebrows furrowed slightly, lips parted, your eyes trying desperately (and failing) to stay focused on his as you ride out your orgasm, and he’s not sure such a thing even really exists.

After a moment, his movements begin to slow, his tongue becoming lazy before stopping altogether when your body starts to relax. Your chest rises and falls, eyes closed, head against the mirror as you slowly regain your sense.

He rises from his position, standing between your legs as he wipes the sweat off your forehead with the hem of his t-shirt, soaking in the comfortable silence. He can’t help but wear a cocky little smile that usually, you’d want to kiss right off his face…. But really, he deserved this one. You’d let him have it.

Your head is a little hazy, and you can’t tell if it was the weed or the chemicals in your brain, but you feel yourself talking before you realize it, and all he can do is grin.

“Fezco, I think I might be in love with you.”

[divine17]

↳ FEZCO’S NSFW ALPHABET II | MASTERLIST

A/N: Part one can be found here :)

Motivation

The front door squeaks open, but over the sound of your own quiet moans, you barely hear it. You’re sprawled across Fezco’s bed, thighs apart and your hand in your panties and fingers circling your clit, his big t-shirt bunched up around your waist. You don’t even hear the footsteps down the hall, or the sound of his bedroom door opening, until you hear someone take a sharp breath.

“Oh.”

Fezco’s voice is low, but it manages to snap you out of your haze. He looks surprised, eyes wide, as he takes in the scene in front of him as he steps into the room. You can’t help but freeze slightly, ceasing your movements to look up at him. You hadn’t meant for this to happen, really.

You were laying in bed, watching some movie on the TV, but not really paying attention. This morning, Fezco had left to go handle business with Ash, promising he’d be home by lunchtime. But noon came and went, and he still wasn’t here. Then, you started thinking about last night, how you were pretty sure he fucked a piece of your soul out of you, and your mind started drifting.

If he wasn’t home by now, he wouldn’t be home for another few hours, right? Turns out, you weren't right.

“Do you want me to help ya out, or?” He glances at the door, and then back at you. “Seems like you ain’t really need it though.”

You look over him and you’re pretty sure he’s already getting hard in his jeans. Honestly, it was always a little easy to get him all riled up. Especially when you’re touching yourself, on his bed, in his big t-shirt. Three of his weaknesses, all in the scene in front of him.

“I mean, if you want to.” You shrug, a coy little smirk tugging at your lips. With that, he took a step toward the bed, closing the door behind him.

No

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask, taking one more puff before extending your hand to pass him the joint. You blow the smoke out into dark, and the January air carries it away swiftly. You loved these moments; the ones where you sit on the steps behind the shop for hours and just talk, asking each other questions and telling stories while sharing a blunt, just like you were now.

“Course you can.” He says, taking a hit. You watch his lips for a moment before you speak again. They look so soft, you almost want to scratch what you’d just said and kiss him right then and there.

“What are your limits? Like in bed?” You question, curious. “I don’t think we ever really had a discussion about it, which is kinda weird. You’d think we would’ve by now.”

He thinks for a moment… His limits? To be honest, he wasn’t totally sure, it wasn’t something he’d thought a lot about, but the answer seemed obvious. He would consider himself open minded, but he drew the line when it came to things that could be dangerous.

“Anything that could hurt you. None of that shit.” He shrugs, looking over at you. “And no weird shit. No piss or nothin’ like that… And I don’t really wanna share, I guess.”

“No piss? Damn, there goes my weekend plans.” You giggle softly. He rolls his eyes, nose scrunched up, but you know he’s laughing when he turns his head to exhale the smoke.

Oral

Eating pussy is, to put it plainly, one of Fezco’s favorite pastimes. And you’re pretty sure he could, and wholeheartedly would, spend the rest of his life between your thighs, if you’d let him.

Some of his favorite mornings are the ones when you wake him up by planting kisses on his freckled shoulders, whispering his name and little affections so softly. He hates having to wake up early, but you make it so much sweeter. In return, he’ll usually plant lazy, tired kisses on your collarbone and breasts, a hand creeping toward the edge of your panties as he slowly moves down your body. From there, it’s not long before your legs are practically wrapped around his head while he shows you how his tongue works.

And to be honest, he doesn’t really know why he loves it so much. He likes pleasing his partner, to know the ins and outs of their body like the back of his hand. He likes knowing exactly what you like, how to get the sweetest moan or softest shiver from you with just his tongue, and maybe a couple fingers. Being able to make himself productive somehow is nice, and it probably doesn’t help that it’s one of the few things that shuts up both his mouth and his mind for a while.

Pace

Similar to F, Fezco really just prefers to go with whatever feels right in the moment, just going with the flow.

If it’s more of a “making love” sort of thing, rather than straight up fucking, he’s soft and slow, fingers stroking the soft skin of your hips or waist, whispering whatever sweet little things come to mind. How he loves you and your body, how perfect you make him feel. It might come out a little stuttery sometimes because he’s, uh, a little distracted… but he really means well, and it’s kind of sweet.

However… If it is just straight up fucking? You can expect hard, quick thrusts. Not particularly rough (unless you tell him you want it rough, he’s down with that too), but definitely intense, and he’s probably peppering messy kisses and half-purple love bites over the skin that he can reach.

If you’re on top, he usually just lets you do whatever you want… Or tries to, at least. It’s hard to remember not to buck his hips to meet your thrusts, or use his hands on your waist to help you go faster or deeper. He’s a sucker for you grinding on him, though, and will encourage that.

Quickie

Another Friday night, and another house party… But this one was different. It was boring, somehow. How do you fuck up a house party so badly?

The two of you were on the couch, you sort of half-draped across Fezco’s lap. Between making deals, the two of you talked, and just sort of… Observed. The room smelled strongly of cheap vodka and it was warm from the bodies surrounding you, but the dance door looked dead and no one seemed to really be having much fun. You grew more and more bored, and your mind eventually began to wander, wanting to go make your own fun… But that was half an hour ago, and your boyfriend had told you ‘no, not now’.

“Fez…” You sigh, voice fighting the volume of the awful song playing above you. He looks up at you with soft eyes, curious, but he clearly catches your drift when he notices your hand on his thigh.

He laughs, shaking his head, and you swear he says something, but you can’t make out what it was. He stubs the blunt out in an ashtray, taking your hand instead. You go with him as he leads you out of the house and down the street to the car. It’s only moments after you get in that he kisses you, hand meeting your waist as he pulls away. He smirks when he notices your hand creeping toward the button of his jeans.

“You really don’t give up, do you?”

Risk 

“We’ve never tried choking.” You muse, sort of mindlessly, liking one of Jules’ pictures as you scroll through your Instagram feed. Fez looks down at you as you sat on the floor of the shop, his eyebrow cocked slightly.

“You good?” He asks, glancing at your phone, and then back at you. Silently, he wondered what had sparked this realization.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “Just know a girl, the one from work I told you about, remember? She’s into it and I just realized we haven’t done it. That’s all.”

Fezco let his mind wander for a moment, trying to decide how he feels about choking. It wasn’t really something that had crossed his mind, if he were honest. On first thought, he worried about if it could be done safely or not. Safety is number one, always, and he would never do anything that could hurt you like that.

“Think it seems kinda risky.”

You shrug, beginning to explain how you were chatting with your friend the other day, and she told you that she was into it. That you have to squeeze lightly, and on the sides of the throat. Not above and not too tight, and not enough where you can’t actually breathe. He listens intently, processing the information as you speak… And chooses not to ask why exactly you were talking about choking with your coworker.

Once you’re done, he questions it again. He was nearly always down to experiment a little… And honestly, it could be kind of hot. If you ever told him that you wanted to try it, he’d probably be down.

Stamina

Most of the time, Fez honestly could probably go for more than a few rounds, but he’s got a habit of drawing things out a bit, rather than rushing it and starting another round so quickly. He can rush things though, if times are rough and it’s terribly necessary, but he doesn’t prefer it.

Although it’s sort of a luxury, he loves nothing more than to take his time with you. The touching, the teasing, the foreplay. How far the two of you can take it, how worked up one of you can get before the other starts growing annoyed and whines for them to actually do something, anything. The giving and the taking, the releases, how many scratches or love bites the two of you can put on each other. It’s important that both of you come out satisfied, and long & slow is his favorite way to achieve that goal. Each thing is just as important as the last, and the next.

Toys

“Oh, you know how I’ve got that vibrator, right?” You ask, looking over at Fez from your spot at the foot of the bed. He nods, silently wondering where the hell you’re taking this.

“What ‘bout it?”

“Would you ever consider using it together?” Your voice is soft, almost like you’re nervous to ask the question. Fez is a little surprised, his eyes widening slightly, a confused look crossing his face.

Oh. That’s where you’re taking it, huh?

To be honest, he hadn’t ever really thought about this sort of thing before. He thinks for a moment, but quickly decides that it’s weird. Together? What would he even need that for? Insecurities and doubts of your happiness with him almost fill his mind, and then… Oh God, his mind goes somewhere completely different.

There were so many things he could do with a toy like that, the possibilities were surely endless… But his main thought?

You, sprawled across the bed, the little vibrator nestled between your thighs, pressed to your clit. A ribbon or one of his ties wrapped around your leg to secure it nicely in place as he watches your face begin to contort with pleasure. Lips parted, eyes fluttering shut as you give in to the feeling, hand grasping at the bedsheet. You’d cum once, and twice, and hell, maybe more, all while he’s talking you through it with that silver tongue of his.

He’s quiet for a moment before answering, still reeling in the place his brain had taken him.

“Yeah… Yeah, I think we could do that.”

Unfair

Fezco isn’t nearly as innocent as his baby face and sweet eyes might lead you to believe. He loves to drive you a little crazy sometimes. The teasing, the tension. The buildup before the release. It’s all half the fun, isn’t it? 

His teasing in public is never overly obvious, he likes doing it on the sly. A hand on your thigh at the dinner table, slowly moving closer until his fingers are under your skirt and he’s just a little too close to your pussy for comfort. Or when he stands behind you, body pressed into yours, his lips on your neck or whispering downright nasty shit into your ear. To an uninterested eye, it probably just looks like he’s giving you a hug, and he thinks that’s just a little funny. 

Bonus points if he just goes on about his business as if he didn’t just do what he did. Like I said, he likes to drive you crazy. 

But when it’s just the two of you, alone in his bedroom? It’s more rare, but he absolutely can be a little devil if he’s in the mood, and especially if it’s more rough than normal. He’ll tell you what he’s going to do, and exactly how he’s gonna do it, all with a slight smirk on his lips. Or, if he’s feeling bold, taking his tongue off of you just when you’re about to cum, kissing your lips or throat instead. His fingers still ghost over your clit, just enough for you to feel, but not enough to get any real satisfaction from. The desperate little sounds you make are like music to his ears, and you know that he can never say no to you, so it’s not long before he lets you cum, for real. 

Volume

Fezco hasn't ever really been shy about making noise in bed. If something feels good, it feels good, and he's gonna let you know. In his mind, pleasure isn't something to hide or be ashamed of.

With that in mind, he does tend to show pleasure/appreciation more physically than through making noise. His hand on your thigh, his fingers digging into the soft skin, his hand buried in your hair, softly pulling you closer. Or how his hips betray his mind and buck a little when he’s close, with half-lidded eyes and parted lips, head tilted back slightly, a small moan falling from his lips.

His sounds are soft, usually little groans and quiet hums of satisfaction between the absolutely filthy things he whispers in your ear, or mumbles under his breath. His mouth still manages to catch you off guard sometimes, to be honest… And seeing how it makes you squirm only eggs him on.

He doesn’t really moan too often, mostly when you’re going down on him, but when he does… You’re half convinced his moans are some form of divinity. They’re soft and breathy, mixed with a hum of some variation of “mm, fuck, baby”.

Wild Card

The first time you and Fez have sex, it’s probably not what, or how, you would’ve imagined.

You’re at his house. Ashtray is at the shop, so the two of you are alone. You’re both a little high, and you can’t stop thinking about how the couch is so comfortable, and how the boy beside you is so pretty. His eyes are such a nice shade of blue, and you almost want to count the freckles on his cheeks, to make a map of them and imprint them into your memory.

He glances over at you, and he’s kind of nervous. You’re so beautiful and soft and he really doesn’t want to fuck this up, but he asks anyway before his mind can register what he’s saying.

“Mind if I kiss you?”

You nod, eyes fluttering shut as he leans forward, lips pressed to yours. The kiss is delicate, like he’s scared to break you, his hand coming to cup your face, thumb brushing across your cheek. You pull him closer, and it doesn’t take long before your back is pressed against the couch cushion, his body hovering above yours. He smells like weed and cologne, and somehow, it’s almost intoxicating. Your hands reach for his hips, inching toward his belt buckle.

“You sure ‘bout this?” He asks, baby blue eyes looking down at you so softly. It’s easy to tell that his concern is genuine, that he really does care, and he wants to make sure you’re a hundred percent okay with this.

“Yeah.” You respond, a little breathless. He nods in acknowledgement.

“You tell me if you wanna stop, aight?”

You nod again, and with another kiss, his hands find their way to the hem of your shirt, tugging it up slightly. He shifts down, kissing the soft skin as his hands begin to unbutton your jeans, lips trailing down your hips.

And, honestly… Sometimes, he still jokes that he ate his way from your pussy to your heart, and you’re not sure he’s wrong.

X-Ray

To be honest, when you first slept with him, this intimate part of Fezco kind of felt like a wild card.

He’s big. Or bigger than you’d expected, at least, but not to a painful or unenjoyable extent… And it wasn’t like you’d ever measured or even outright asked how big his cock is, even though he’d probably tell you (with a satisfied smirk on his face) if he actually knew, which left you to guess… Maybe somewhere between six and a half and seven inches? But that wasn’t even the craziest part. He’s thick, and it seemed like it was in just the right places.

All that, combined with how well it seemed like he knew how to use it? Almost like a match made in heaven, really.

Yearning

Fezco’s sex drive is definitely a little higher than the next dude’s, to be honest… And alright, maybe a bit more than just “a little”.

It’s not like he’s constantly horny all day every day, really. It’s just that he could fuck you seven ways to Sunday at nearly any given time, day or night, rain or shine, with basically no complaints from him, but it’s not on the forefront of his mind at all times… It definitely lurks, though, and does pop up at least once or twice during the day.

And by that, I mean… All that it really takes is a good ten minutes of sitting at the shop, no customers in sight, and sure enough, it’ll come to mind. He tends to daydream when he’s bored, and sometimes, his mind just kind of re-routes itself to the memory of fucking you in the car after that party that one time, or the mental picture of those shorts you wore that got him kinda bricked up the other day, and how he’d love to peel them off of you. He can usually shake it off and go about the afternoon, though… Usually.

ZZZ

You look up at the ginger boy’s face, taking in his features. He’s so pretty. His soft blue eyes and the creases around them, the polka dotted freckles that coat his cheeks. The little bump in the bridge of his nose, the faded scar across the side of his head. You can’t help but think about how much you love the boy in front of you, how perfect he is, even if he doesn’t realize it.

It takes him a moment to notice you’ve shifted, but he looks down toward you, a little smile tugging at his lips when he notices that you’re staring.

“Might wanna take a picture, baby.”

“Maybe I will.”

You laugh softly at his tired voice as he slides down into bed, head hitting the pillow. Like you were on cue, you begin to curl into him. Head on his chest, an arm lazily thrown across his stomach. You’re sort of laying on one of his arms, but he doesn’t seem to mind, bringing it to hold your waist anyway.

He likes nights like these. They’re calm and quiet and it’s as if he has so little to worry about, as long as you’re with him. He can hear crickets beneath the window, and the faint sound of the TV, and, very faintly, what he thinks is your light breathing as you fall asleep.

With that, he reaches for the lamp on his bedside table. It clicks off, and you don’t stir. With you secure in his arms, Fezco can finally rest.

[divine17]

links

➻ my masterlist & my fandoms ➻ add yourself to my taglist here

about

hi! my name is clover! i’m nineteen, & pronouns are she/they :). all follows/likes will come from my main, @luckyclo.

minors, you’re welcome to follow and read my sfw posts, but please don’t interact with my nsfw content. currently, i tag smut with #d17nsfw. you can block that tag so it doesn’t show up anywhere for you.

please don’t steal my work or post it anywhere without my consent. if you’d like to post something i’ve written as a compilation or translation, please message me first!

requests

i won’t write anything where consent isn’t clear, with major violence or gore, or anything glorifying abuse/abusers. i likely won’t write anything for nate/cal jacobs, either.

requests are always open, and always appreciated! if your request is clear and detailed, it will likely be written sooner.

tagging system

#d17nsfw — all nsfw content

misc tags: #about me, #answered asks

# angus:manager — the ongoing saga of angus and his manager, who is always screaming, crying, and throwing up