fraser minten:

"am i making you nervous?" (smut, fluff-ish)

⤷ part 2: "best night of my life" (smut, fluff-ish)

"i think we're best friends now" (fluff)

will smith hockey:

he immediately backed you up into a wall after getting back home, taking your clothes off and kissing you like he was starved—like he was angry you starved him.

the first orgasm was up against the wall in the entryway, and he didn't bother to prep you– he didn't even need to, your arousal was already dripping on the floor by the time you got home.

his pace was inhuman – urgently chasing his high as much as yours. but regardless of how quick he was going, he still managed to hit your g-spot from the sheer size of him, tip grazing over it in a way that drove you insane.

"i wanted to take you properly," thrust. "but you just had to be so–" thrust, "fucking–" thrust, "impatient."

ironically, he was fucking you like he was a man who doesn't even know what the word patience means.

he let his hand roam down to your clit as his mouth latched onto the sensitive part in your neck. you moaned, then covered your mouth when you remembered you were near the door, scared someone might pass by and hear, but fraser tsk'ed and immediately grabbed your hand away.

"if you're gonna moan, don't be embarrassed. you didn't seem to be shy giving that fucking guy 'fuck me' eyes earlier, so why not let our neighbors hear, hm?"

you whined, walls tightening around fraser's cock. he groans in response, then scoffs. "the neighbors hearing turns you on?"

you shake your head, but your walls flutter around him again, and this time he lets out a sharp laugh.

"want them to know how good i'm making you feel, huh, baby?" he follows that up with an especially hard thrust, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. "then let them hear."

that tips you over the edge and you cum all over his dick, doing exactly as he says by screaming his name. your walls pulsate around him, sucking him in so hard he can hardly pull out for another thrust.

he follows not soon after, filling you up so well you thought you were about to cum again.

your legs are shaking as he pulls out, shoving his fingers back in to keep his cum from oozing out.

he gives you about a second to catch your breath before he's carrying you up into the bedroom, "oh we're not done yet. since you wanna be a brat, i'm gonna have to put you in your place."

that felt like forever ago, but you're still in bed, only this time, with more of fraser's cum inside you. you've been on your knees, bent over his desk, on top of him, and now you're on your back again.

fraser's thrusts this time are slower. he's been able to take out most of his frustrations, especially when he was fucking your mouth as he fingered you at the same time.

he was rough, holding your head in place while he thrusted into your mouth like it was your pussy. you kept your mouth flat, swirling around him when you weren't busy screaming over the feeling of his big, long fingers abusing your cunt.

you tried your best to keep your eyes open for as long as you could, meeting his hard gaze. the sight of you trying so hard not to close your eyes, looking up at him through your tear stained lashes, mouth full of his cock while his fingers fill your other hole, makes him smirk. "if only you could see yourself right now..." he laughs, "you only shut up and behave when a dick's inside your mouth. how cute."

anyway.

that previous intensity has faded, but he's still driving into you – the smell of sex thicker, skin sticking to skin, and wet sounds filling the room with every thrust.

every thrust he takes is painfully good, the overstimulation morphing back into pleasure as the numbness wears off. still, tears keep forming in your eyes, blurring your vision of the man on top of you. you whine when he hits the spot he's been abusing for god knows how long now.

"shh– i know, i know, but you wanted this," he says, kissing the tear cascading down your face. "i know you can take more of me, cause you're a good girl, not a brat. you're my good girl."

you try to nod, but you hardly have the energy to do so. fraser notices your efforts and smiles, "good."

he looks back down at the outline of his cock—still painfully hard despite all the rounds—in your stomach, and presses on it. you cry out an unintelligible version of fraser's name, pleasure jolting through your veins despite the overstimulation.

the rhythm shifts again. he isn't rushing anymore, but he isn't being merciful either. he finds that perfect, torturous middle ground where he slides in slow enough for you to feel every ridge, every inch of him stretching you open, before driving home with a force that makes your hips buck involuntarily.

despite how fucked you are, your body still reacts to him the same way.

his cock presses against that sensitive spot again, and he deliberately lingers there, grinding in a slow circle that makes your vision swim. “that feel good?”

“mhmm... fheelshoghood,” you mumble, words all jumbled up.

“only i can fuck you like this. and i’ll keep fucking you until your walls memorize every inch of me. until it’s perfectly molded to my cock, and my cock only.”

you feel that coil in your stomach start to tighten again at the filth leaving his mouth. you didn't know this side of fraser existed, but you love it. you’re not too fond of the idea of flirting with more bartenders just to access this side again, though.

“you’re still so fucking tight after all those rounds, it’s like you can't get enough of milking me, baby.”

he picks up his pace, gripping your waist hard as his lips find yours. he can feel you’re about to tip over the edge, and moves the finger on the belly bulge down between your bodies to help you out.

then he shifts his weight, bracing himself on his forearms so he can loom over you, his muscular frame casting a shadow across your body. His breathing is still heavy, breath ghosting over your flushed skin. he purposely slows down even further, pausing when he's buried to the hilt inside you, letting you feel the full stretch of him.

your tears continue to fall. he was so big—you felt him everywhere and–god–it all was too much, but it all felt so good too.

"you like being used like this, don't you?" he asks quietly, his voice dropping to that sweet but dangerous register he gets when he's being particularly selfish. "being my little mess." one of his hands leaves the bed to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your swollen lower lip. "that's why you're taking it as well as you are."

you reply with incoherent murmurs as fraser continues to kiss your tears away, then he whispers:

"tell me. tell me you're mine."

and without waiting for an answer, he drives forward again, but this time it's not a slow grind. it's a deliberate, punishing thrust that catches that sensitive spot with devastating accuracy. his hips snap forward, meeting yours with a wet, sharp slap that echoes in the quiet room. his expression shifts from smug satisfaction to something more raw as his own pleasure spikes.

"fuck, you're so warm," he groans, forehead dropping to rest against yours. his pupils are blown wide, staring directly into your tear streaked eyes. "so fucking tight. like you're trying to swallow me whole."

he starts to pick up the pace again, but it's different than before. less angry, more desperate.

“cum for me one last time, sweetheart. show me how much of a good girl you can be.”

the knot in your stomach unravels as your nails dig deep into his back, pleasure crashing through you so hard your vision turns white. your back arches off the bed, a broken moan tearing from your throat as your body locks up around him.

you swear you black out for a moment.

your climax just keeps going, while fraser chases his own high, fucking you through it, wave after wave.

his hips snap forward one last time, driving himself impossibly deep as his own climax crashes over him. he lets out a rough, guttural sound against your throat while his cock pulses inside you, filling you completely.

his body tenses violently before he gradually collapses forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck as his breathing comes in ragged gasps.

for several minutes, the only sound in the air is your and fraser's breaths.

he eventually lifts himself off you, but when you thought he was about to pull out, he thrusts back into you.

you gasp, "frase, you— you said that was the last one..?"

"i know, baby–i know, but you can give me one more, right?" he moves his hand up to your breasts, slowly kneading them, and looking at you with those dark, pleading eyes.

you're absolutely spent, but the way he's looking at you – red lips, messy hair, that desperate edge in his eyes... you'd let him ruin you all over again.

you hate how your heart tightens at the mention of his name, or how your eyes search for him first. you hate how you have to bite back a love confession when you're on the brink of an orgasm.

because that wasn't what either of you agreed on. it was just sex – purely sex.

and yet here you are, spiraling at the realization that your feelings for will are no longer platonic. over the course of secret meet-ups behind the team's – particularlu your father's – back, you've fallen utterly, embarrassingly, and madly in love with him.

the biggest problem with that, along many others (like how he's literally part of the team your dad coaches), is that.. will doesn't love you back.

you wish there were signs capable of deluding you into believing he reciprocates even a quarter of how you feel, but truthfully, there's nothing.

you could see it in his eyes, devoid of that kind of warmth you hold specifically for him. you felt it in the cold air of your empty hotel room after he leaves—not before cleaning you up and saying goodbye, though. he isn't an asshole.

he just doesn't like you back.

but the lack of signs doesn't stop you from fantasizing about a universe where he loves you too. where you can slip an 'i love you' in a heated moment, and he'd say it back. where he stays until he has to go back before anyone can notice his absence. where he kisses you and it means something.

but that universe wasn't this one.

———————

when the crushing realization finally became too much, you stop joining roadies as often. it wasn't rare for you not to join before—you weren't free all the time—but it became more frequent. the first two roadies you miss, will doesn't contact you, and you hate yourself even more for expecting that he would.

by the third one, he calls.

"hey, coach just said you're not coming. you good?" he asks, concern lacing his voice, but not enough to show that he really cares. well, not ad much as you do, at least.

regardless, the fact he even called made you light headed. you know he was just checking as a friend, but you crossed his mind. that has to count for something, right..?

"uh.. yeah! i'm alright. i'm just catching up on school," you lie. you don't have any classes this week, but will doesn't know that.

"warso actually told me you were free for like– a week?"

okay, what the hell.

and why was your dad airing your business out?

you let out an awkward chuckle. "yeah but there's, just, stuff. you know?"

you sounded terribly unconvincing, and you know will wasn't buying it, but he didn't ask any further.

"alright.. see you when we get back?" and there it is.

you know what he means by that, and your heart drops – not because you don't want it… but because you of how badly you do.

your body shakes, and you don't know if it's from want, or fear. this was a bad idea from the very beginning, and the small voice in the back of your head is pleading with you not to fall back into it.

say no.

say it.

say it.

"..sure," but you can't. you don't have the guts to end this, and right now… you're not entirely sure if you want to.

———————

the day the team comes back, will wastes no time bringing you to his place.

when you make it to his room, he kisses you like he's annoyed you've been depriving him of this, fumbling with the lock to make sure nobody interrupts.

he sighs into the kiss, hand traveling up your head, entangling his hand in your hair. "fuck, i missed this."

your chest aches as you remind yourself, over and over, that he doesn't like you back.

you fall onto the bed, immediately discarding your clothes as he does the same. you shamelessly stare at him as he takes his belt off, looking at the small part of his mouth, the way his curls fall in front of his face, basically screaming at you to brush it away; and his chiseled abs. you can feel yourself growing wetter by the second.

he takes a condom out of his pocket, but realizes he hasn't prepped you yet, and places it on the bedside table.

"been a while since you've taken me, right? what do you want first: my fingers or my mouth?"

fuck.

you don't know how to respond, looking at him with wide eyes and a flushed face. "i- uhm—"

"hurry if you wanna cum, sweet thing. fingers or mouth?" his chain dangles slightly as he hovers over you with a hint of a smile on his lips. he's never asked that before, and you never expected that being given the option would feel this fucking hot.

still, you're flustered, having been caught completely off guard. "m-mouth..?"

he makes an incorrect buzzer sound as he inches closer to your heat, "wrong. the correct answer was both."

he presses a kiss on your clit and you shudder, hands flying to his hair.

"sensitive, are we?" he smiles up at you while sliding his fingers across your cunt. you whine in response.

he pushes a finger in and your thighs instinctively close in on him, but he uses his free arm to pin one of your thighs down. "work with me here, pretty."

he starts thrusting his finger in and out at a brutally slow place, taking his time to press kisses around your inner thighs. sucking, nibbling, biting, then kissing the spot when you hiss.

you start to grow impatient. "will—please," you cry, unable to do anything else other than beg.

"i'm getting there, pretty. just wanna soak you all in in case you disappear on me again," your heart races. what does that even mean?

will doesn't give you the time to think about it before latching onto your clit, sucking gently as he finally picks up the pace of his finger.

his muffled moans causes you to clench. "baby you're supposed to be loosening— shit—"

you tighten around his finger again and he shakes his head in disbelief before slowly adding another finger in.

he lays his tongue flat on you as his fingers quicken before they curl, making your vision blur. "fuck, will– ngh!"

the sensation is overwhelming, a tidal wave of heat and friction that makes your entire body arch off the mattress hits you hard. when your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers again, will lets out a low, guttural growl against your skin, the vibration of his voice sending jolts of electricity straight to your core.

you tighten your grip on his hair, but he doesn't pull away—instead, he presses harder, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers to drive you right over the edge.

"that's it... give it all to me, y/n," he mumbles against you, his breath hot and ragged.

 youe vision fractures into white light as your orgasm hits, muscles pulsing rhythmically around him.

 you let out a broken, high pitched cry, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you shake with the intensity of it. will helps you ride it out, pumping his fingers in shallowly as he pulls back just enough to crawl up your body. his eyes are dark and blown wide, filled with something you couldn't quite name.

 he looms over you, chest heaving as he watches the aftershocks ripple through you—twitching, whining, and desperate for more.

 when you regain most of your vision, your heart crumbles. the only word you could use to describe how he looked right now is devastating.

 sweat glistening on his skin, curls a mess, and that golden retriever charm that still shone through despite the current intensity. he was so, insanely, devastatingly handsome.

 he rests his forehead against yours, deep blue eyes staring right straight into yours, reaching the depths of your soul. the air thickens, and it feels like a million words were on the tip of his tongue—mouth opening and closing multiple times. sensing the growing intensity, the kind that led to saying things you regret leave your mouth, he opts to swallow whatever it was, and places a rough kiss on your lips.

 you moan into it as he does the same, and he reaches for the condom on the bedside table, "now let's see if i can make you scream my name instead of whining it out."

 your heat pulses at his words and is practically aching to be filled as he slides his tip across your slit. in one, slow, heavy thrust, he's filling you completely, and you swear you could feel him in your throat.

 your eyes flutter shut as your body adjusts to the sheer size of him. did he grow a couple inches, or what? jesus.

 will groans, a sound of pure, unadulterated relief, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his skin hot against yours. he stills, adjusting to you too, then he nibbles at your neck, making sure not to leave too clear of a mark, but doing so anyway because it makes him feel like you're his.

 "fuck, you're so– tight–" he groans, starting to thrust into you at a pace that had your knuckles white from gripping the bed-sheets. every slow thrust makes you feel every inch of him, and it's driving you insane that you can't be his.

 "will—" you cut yourself off with a moan, "god, it– FUCK!"

  will had pulled away until only the tip was in, and thrusted into you so hard you saw stars. he's reaching into every part of you, fucking you like he's memorizing you—like he's engraving how good your walls feel around him, and the way they flutter around him in ways he's sure would kill him one day.

 you wish he'd just fuck you harder. faster. anything to stop it from feeling so..

 real.

"fraser, please…"

fuck. he was a goner.

while fraser was still trying to make sense of everything that had happened in the past ten minutes, some sort of post-climax clarity hits you, and you start to wonder about what the aftermath of this could be. will you ever be able to look him in the eye again? would he ever be able to look you in the eye again? do you become best friends who fuck on occasion and end up ruining the bond you previously had? will you be left wanting more, only to be crushed when fraser tells you he doesn't feel the same way?

because it turns out… that small crush you had might not be so small after all.

your line of thought is cut off when fraser shifts, hands moving across your ass before he gets to your dripping cunt. he collects some of the cum leaking out, and stuffs it back in, emitting a moan out of you.

"more, huh?" and just like that, he's switched over to that bolder version of him– the version of him that exists with one goal and one goal alone: to please you.

he can feel his dick start to stiffen again; the sight of you like this was something he'd kill to see forever. teary eyes, disheveled hair, swollen lips, a faint bruise ghosting your hips, and you trembling in way that isn't visible, but could be felt under his touch. everything was so overwhelming.

but before he got too hard, fraser knew one thing he had to do. taste you.

"frase—" you start, voice whinier than ever.

"shh, i know baby, i know," he murmurs, voice entirely too soft for what he's doing—or is about to do. "but i wanna taste you first, is that okay with you?"

fuck, he was so fucking intoxicating. his voice was still sweet - it's the same voice you've heard pretty much everyday growing up, only now, it was tinged with something rough, dark, and… primal.

you nod as hard as you can, unable to muster anything other than: "please."

fraser wastes no second before sinking into you, groaning the second his tongue makes contact with your heat. he licked a long stripe up your pussy, then he pushed his tongue in, and as he does so, he can taste himself in you. that's when he's convinced this is heaven. right here, burying his face into you, gripping the soft flesh of your ass as your legs shake and you moan out his name like it's the only word you know.

he involuntarily bucks his hips up, grinding across the couch for any friction he could get. you taste so good his cock hurts from how hard he is.

as he explores the soft walls of your pussy, he moves his left hand to stimulate your clit and it feels so good your vision starts to blur. then he takes his tongue out, only to insert his finger in as he starts sucking on your clit. when fraser realizes you could take one more, he inserts a second finger, and you don't know if it was because of your prior orgasm, but you cum so suddenly it shocks you.

in fact, you squirt all over him, and fraser only realizes he still has his glasses on when it splashes onto his lenses.

he takes them off and continues thrusting his fingers in to let you ride your orgasm out before removing them. however, he's still lapping at you, drinking in everything you released, including what was dripping down your thigh.

then fraser snaps out of whatever trance your pussy put him in.

"holy shit…" he pants, face flushed, and lips drenched in your juices.

he notices you're still slightly trembling, and turns you around, letting you recover a little. his cock throbs when you pull him in for a kiss the second he turns you, and his heart warms at the thought of you wanting to kiss him just as much as he wants to kiss you.

it felt like you would've been kissing forever if he didn't pull away, although he was reluctant to do so. "do you need water?"

you hadn't even realized your mouth had turned into the sahara until fraser asked, and even though there's nothing you want more than to just continue, your body has its needs, and you might've passed out in the middle of sex if he hadn't asked you.

the attentiveness makes your head spin, but not in the way it had when he was fucking your brains out just earlier. this time, it had your brain spinning with thoughts you never dared to entertain before. as unwanted as they are, there's no stopping the smile that spreads across your lips.

"yes, please," you slurred, and you both laugh at how fucked out you sounded.

when he stands up to get you water, your eyes don't miss how insanely hard his dick is and that only makes your head spin more. partly because you knew that was going to be drilling inside you again, but mostly because… wow. he was rock fucking solid, and he still put your needs first.

it was honestly the bare minimum, but in a world where so many guys' consideration disappeared the second they're having sex, your heart can't help but flutter.

ohhhh no. fraser better hurry and make you cum again before your thoughts drift further off and become uncontrollable.

he's back with a cup of water and a small smile on his face.

"thank you," you say before downing the whole thing.

"always."

you set your cup down, and you spend a couple of seconds just looking at each other, like you're silently communicating that you're both aware this isn't the same anymore. but that can't happen… can it?

you break the ice as your eyes trail down to his cock still standing uncomfortably tall, "soo… are we gonna do something about that?"

fraser gulps, opening his mouth to reply, but you're inching closer and closer to his cock, looking like you've come straight out of his wet dreams, so he has to bite his lip to avoid letting out an embarrassing moan.

"n-no, i'm supposed to make you forget…" he says, cursing himself for stuttering, but can you blame him, when he can feel your breath on his pulsating cock that's been begging for attention ever since he licked that stripe across your slit?

"mmm, i dunno frase… having you fuck my face sounds like a pretty good way to forget."

you end the sentence with a bat of your eyelashes, and fraser truly can't believe this is happening to him right now.

before he's able to reply, you wrap your hand around him and he lets out a shaky exhale. "fuck…"

that brings a smile to your face as you continue stroking him, squeezing him at random times which sends his eyes flying wide open each time. you're stroking him at a torturous pace, but it was purposeful. you wanted to rile him up, to push him to the point of abandon.

"fuck, y/n– just…" he mutters, a whine slipping in his usually leveled tone.

"just what, fraser?" you smirk, stopping your movements entirely which makes him let out a frustrated groan.

"just do it, already," at this point, his teeth were clenched and his patience was running thin.

"i need you to be a bit more specific…" you hold back a giggle, but fraser notices, and that's when he realizes what you were playing at.

he doesn't reply, instead, opting to gather your hair into a makeshift ponytail and guide you onto him himself. "that's right, open up, baby."

the pet name sends a flurry of butterflies to your stomach again, but you ignore them, trying your hardest to break fraser with your mouth. but, unbeknownst to you, you'd already broken him from the moment your lips found his.

the beads of precum taste salty, and you lick around his head to taste more. fraser hisses at the feeling of your hot mouth and tongue engulfing his tip, eyes threatening to close shut from the pleasure, but he knows there's no way in hell he's missing this view.

fraser's big, but not so big that you couldn't deep-throat him without your gag reflexes acting up. when you reach the base of his cock, you hum, and the vibrations make fraser tighten his grip on your hair, letting out a deep groan.

"you're insane…" he pants, still keeping eye contact as you pull away to catch your breath. this time, fraser lets you work your magic—dragging your tongue across the whole length with a teasing smile on your face, then flicking over the slit when you reach the top. that gets a moan out of him, and you clench at nothing over the sound, fueling you to keep going.

fraser's caressing your head as you take all of him in again, making sure you show every vein, every ridge, every detail, some love, and there's not an inch of him that goes unexplored.

fraser betrays himself and shuts his eyes close, pleasure too overwhelming to keep them open. he focuses on the way your tongue is moving, the air you're exhaling out of your nose that makes him shudder, and the sound of slurping filling the room — the episode playing on the TV long forgotten.

he opens his eyes again, looking down to see you already looking up, eyes filled with tears. he moves the hand in your hair to pat your cheek.

"your mouth was just made for me, wasn't it?" you nod, replying with a muffled 'mhm' which sends another wave of vibrations through him, making him tip his head back in an attempt to keep it together.

"ohh, fuck…" fraser moaned, starting to buck his hips up, both of his hands now holding your head in place.

his eyes were shut tight, relishing in the perfect way your lips suctioned him and the perfect way you moaned against him. but as he feels his release building, he realizes there's a better place to cum in.

he suddenly pulls you off of him, and for a split second, fraser debates whether to turn you around or fuck you in missionary – because if he had to look at you while buried inside you like this, he honestly wasn’t sure he’d make it out alive.

the weight tips quickly in his head, and he turns you around.

you're surprised you aren't on your back, but you don't have to think about it too much before his voice interrupts your thoughts.

"tell me what you want, baby. tell me how you want it."

your anticipation skyrockets, tightening around nothing over the hunger that's so terribly evident in his voide.

"just please fraser. lose yourself, make me forget, and give it to me. i need you."

the raw vulnerability in your voice, practically begging him to let go of his inhibitions, is what finally does it for him. there were so many moments throughout tonight where he thought, this is it, but nope – this was it. you telling him you need him.

"everything," he repeats, his voice a low, dangerous promise, "you're taking everything."

there's absolutely no more hesitation as he grips your hips, anchoring you in place as he lines himself up. he enters you in one long, powerful, and unapologetic thrust that seems to reach all the way to your soul, and you almost scream at the feeling.

"ah— fuck!" you moaned, just as a low primal groan escapes his throat. he's slamming into you with no remorse, and you're sure the couch is never gonna recover from this.

he finds a relentless rhythm, and you swear wind gets knocked out of you with each of fraser's thrusts. he's no longer just your sweet best friend; he is a man possessed by the need to claim you, to drown out every bad memory and every ounce of stress you've carried all day.

he's driving into you with desperation, movements becoming faster and more frantic when he feels your cunt tighten around him, swallowing him whole. your mouth was heaven, but this… this transcended it.

"thaaat's it… just focus on me," he leans to growl into your ear, his breath hot and ragged. "forget everything else – it's just you and me, y/n. just me."

every thrust is a declaration, every heavy breath a testament to how much he's been hiding beneath that calm, sweet exterior. every thrust shows his determination to leave you so completely shattered that the only thing you can feel is the shape of him inside you.

your head was spinning with each slam of his hips. this position allowed more of fraser's strength, and you felt it. the feeling was so overwhelming — every vein, ridge, and the swollen tip of his cock hit the deepest parts of you. you were drooling now, unable to help yourself. the sounds coming from both of you—your whimpers, his moans, the sound of his pelvis hitting your ass and his balls brushing against the insides of your thighs—were borderline pornographic.

"feels good?" he asks, speeding up his thrusts to a pace unimaginable. you can't even form a coherent reply, answering him with a bunch of unintelligible mumbles and murmurs. he can only laugh.

"my sweet, good girl... you've really been fucked dumb, huh?" you nod, and he continues. "anybody ever fuck you like this?" then you shake your head, mustering up all your power to reply with a simple 'no!' but it sounded nothing like it—just a bunch of moans and whimpers.

you feel the coil in your stomach tighten, and start tapping on the couch from how intense it was, but you didn't want him to stop, and you let him know by yelling (what seemed to be) "don't stop!" over and over again until it sounded coherent.

knowing you want to keep going, your action of tapping out, has him smirking. huffing out a sweet laugh—contradicting his current not-so-sweet deeds. "what? you wanted this, so take it. take all of your best friend's big cock."

the sheer audacity of him to refer to himself as your best friend as he wrecks you makes your heart race even faster than the physical sensation. it was a delicious, dizzying contradiction.

fraser is completely gone now. the restraint he usually prides himself in has been incinerated by the heat of your body and the desperation in your voice. he sees the way you're tapping on the couch; a frantic, rhythmic signal of how much you're struggling to handle him and it only encourages him. that little smirk on his face is pure, unadulterated mischief, a flash of the confident, dominant man he keeps hidden behind his gentle smiles.

"nnngggfhh," your moans are muffled with the way your face is planted on the couch, and fraser can't believe how much he loves hearing you so absolutely lost, only able to produce cute little noises.

he finds your clit again and you scream. that was possibly the loudest you've ever screamed.

"you're so loud for me, y/n," he groans, voice thick with a dark, satisfied pride. "i love how much you need this. i love how much you need me."

and he doesn't know if it was the intoxicating feeling of your pussy wrapped so perfectly around him, or something else, but he pulls out and flips you around, shutting up any complaint that was at the tip of your tongue by sliding back in immediately.

and right away it feels different. this time he can see you, every proof of pleasure on your face: your unfocused eyes, the drool, how your eyebrow twitched. and it felt so much more… intimate.

this was really you.

and just like you asked, he's losing himself. losing himself in you, in the pleasure, in his indisputable feelings for you.

he can feel you reaching the edge the way your muscles are twitching and your breath is coming in short, jagged gasps. he knows you're right there, teetering on the brink of total oblivion, and he wants to be the one to push you over. he wants to be the reason you lose your mind.

"cum for me, y/n," he commands, his voice dropping into a low, intense rumble that vibrates through your entire body. "show me how much you want it. show me how much you love this dick."

he delivers a series of rapid, punishingly deep thrusts, his entire body tensing as he pushes himself to the absolute limit. he's driving you toward the peak, his eyes fixed on the way your body is reacting to him, waiting for the moment you finally break.

it's not long before you completely shatter onto him, moaning his name like a mantra, as your toes curl and your eyes roll all the way to the back of your head.

then the feeling of him chasing his own high while his thumb continued rubbing your clit made you overstimulated.

you're pretty much limp at this point as fraser continues to thrust into you, but the urgency is no longer there. you already came, and that's all that matters to him.

soon, he's nearing his own climax, and he's repeatedly saying, "take it, take it like the good girl you are."

you're whining, but the overstimulation starts turning into pleasure and you move your hips to match his thrusts, finally regaining some of your brain power.

he leans in to capture your lips in a kiss, saying: "that's it... god, y/n... just like that..." in between kisses.

he gasps, which sounded awfully like a sob, and you couldn't help but clench around him. he delivers one final, devastating thrust, before burying himself deep, pouring himself into you. and surprisingly, the feeling of his hot seed filling you up sends you over the edge again, vision going absolutely white as your body shudders with intensity.

fraser tries to help you ride your orgasm out, but he was exhausted, and he could only really manage four shallow thrusts before collapsing on top of you. he pulls out as he rolls over, nuzzling into your neck before impulsively uttering, "i love you."

at that, you freeze, and so does fraser.

"oh, fuck– i meant…" he trails off, eyebrows furrowed with worry, but he doesn't know how to excuse what he just said.

"you meant..?" you continue, hoping it wasn't just a slip of the tongue.

when fraser doesn't reply, you think: fuck it.

"fraser i… i think i love you too," his eyes widen.

"what?"

"look– i think love's a strong word, but i truly have liked you for a while, and if this aching feeling in my chest isn't love, then what is it?" his eyes continue to widen and his mouth is now agape, but he lets you continue. "and i know, maybe i'm not entirely thinking straight after four of the best orgasms i've ever experienced, but i'm confident that if you asked me in any state of mind, i'd still say i love you."

a smile slowly starts to form on fraser's lips, and he cups your jaw, caressing your cheek before pulling you into a kiss. this time, there was nothing underneath it but softness and the love you shared.

when you pull away, fraser's contagious smile just refuses to leave his face.

"i never would've thought i'd ever hear you say that, y/n," he starts, "i've loved you for so long, but i never expected… well, this," he gestures around you and you giggle.

"well, this is definitely happening, fraser pierre minten," you kiss him again, and in between kisses, he says:

"best night of my life."

there was no denying that after you broke up with your ex, there's been some tension between you two. but it went unmentioned, although definitely noticed.

"i just wanted to see you," he says, and jumps to add more when he realizes how awkward it sounded. "you know—to hang out, and stuff?"

like it was second nature, he leaned against your door frame, hands shoved in the pockets of his sweatpants. he was wearing his glasses, which was a rare sight nowadays. it only intensifies your desire.

your words stay stuck in your throat, and when it takes you a bit longer than usual to reply, a flicker of hesitation flashes in his eyes. he shifts his weight from one foot to another, no longer leaning on the door frame.

“i mean… if you aren't busy,” he adds softly, looking down at his feet, before looking back up at you. “sorry, i was just– i was driving around and thought of you, so… i came over.”

you regain your composure, or what’s left of it, at least, and respond. “no, yeah, of course!”

you open the door wider, letting him in. he lets out a soft ‘thanks’ before kicking his shoes off and placing them to the side. when you make eye contact again, he offers you a small, sweet smile. the one that always made you feel a bit better.

“sorry for coming over so suddenly. we can just do whatever - i didn't actually really have a plan,” he chuckles, “we could watch something, or i’ll try to cook something up? or you can just talk. i’m a good listener, you know that,” he smiles again, a hint of pride in his voice.

although you haven't said anything about today out loud, fraser seems to have noticed you've had a rough day, and that warms your chest a little.

it's always been moments like these that have you questioning what you truly felt for him. his words were enough to loosen some tension in your shoulders — tension you hadn't even realized you were carrying until it faded. he’s the sweetest person you know, and you've always had a special connection; he could sense whenever you were off, and you could read his face better than most people.

sometimes—more than you'd like to admit, actually—the thought of you and fraser being made for each other crosses your mind, but you're quick to shoo it away. just friends, y/n, your brain reminds you. although, you do still think he looks scrumptious.

“i was actually in the middle of a show, but we could switch it to something else you want.”

you both walk into the living room, and he plops right down on the couch, which makes you giggle. “you don't have to change it for me. i’m just happy to be here.”

you sit down right beside him, the space between you almost non-existent, but that was the norm. you don't get to reply before he speaks again.

“you know… talking's still on the table. you look like you’ve had a long one. do you wanna talk about it? or just keep watching and pretend the day never happened?”

“well i…” wish you would bend me over and fuck me till i forgo— woah, what the hell, y/n? you can't think about stuff like that, you shake your head, hoping to shake the thoughts away too. “i don't know.”

the pause you took makes fraser’s brow quirk, but he doesn't mention it, and instead lets you continue.

"we can just watch the show, if that's alright with you," you murmur, and fraser gives you a look—one that tells you to stop checking with him because he'll do anything for you and you know that.

"i already told you, y/n, I'm happy with anything," despite his words, he doesn't actually sound irritated with you.

before you could reply, he's already grabbing the remote and pressing play.

as the episode went on, you explained to him what was happening, the characters and their relationship, and what the show was about, since he hadn't seen it. you both were having a fun time, laughing and joking around. his company and the sound of his laughter eased you more than you thought it would.

but then the episode takes a sudden turn, and before you knew it, clothes were flying.

fraser was doing his hardest trying to listen to you without getting lost in the way your eyes lightened up with interest as you explained, and doesn't even register when the episode turns steamy at first. not until you become increasingly quiet.

his eyes are back on the tv, and the moans become louder. initially, fraser doesn't look away or show any signs of discomfort—he’s grown, he can handle a little sex scene—but as the nudity becomes more prominent, he can't help shift in his seat a little, suddenly becoming more aware of your scent, how close you were, and the sweat trickling down his back.

you, on the other hand, were cursing yourself for not just switching the show earlier. but you also didn't see this coming! just when you were no longer hot and bothered, this episode decided it wanted to be a porno out of nowhere, and it didn't help that fraser’s scent took up the whole room, and that you were so close you could feel his chest rising and falling.

his broad chest, his big arms, his chiseled abs… christ, y/n–snap out of it!

the lighthearted, easygoing energy between you and fraser from before was now replaced by something heavier, as the air grew thicker and warmer.

fraser finally turns to look at you, and a faint tint of red brushed at his ears, but he didn't look flustered. his gaze is heavy, sweeping over your face before dropping down to your lips, and then, almost involuntarily, down to the curve of your neck.

“well, uh… they certainly aren't very shy about it,” he spoke, smiling almost sheepishly.

you awkwardly chuckle, tearing your eyes away from the screen, although you didn't know if you could handle holding eye contact. “yeah... they really aren't.”

you turn your head in time to see his eyes dip to your lips, and you have to bite back from instinctively licking them. the tension was heavy, and the scene in front of you was not helping lightenit at all.

you find yourself looking down at his lips too, then at his hands, then memories of him shirtless from last summer flashes in your mind. bad, fucking time, brain. i’m almost dripping.

you see the way his adams apple bobs as he gulps, and you don't realize when you got this close. you must've been inching closer subconsciously.

fraser notices the space between you growing smaller and smaller, but he doesn't pull back. he just holds his breath, studying your every move. he looks down at your lips again, and for a split second, something primal takes over him.

his hand finally moves. a slow - agonizingly slow - deliberate, delicate movement, as if you’d vanish into thin air if he moved any quicker. his large, warm hand grazed your jawline before his thumb settled just below the corner of your mouth.

his face shows no sign of it, but you can feel the hesitation in his touch.

“you’re… you’re very close, y/n,” he notes, but he doesn't move to create distance. if anything, he moves a fraction of an inch closer. “am i… am i making you nervous?”

a hint of awkwardness lingers in his tone, but the look in his eyes isn't one you’d find on an awkward man. the only thing fraser was waiting for was your signal.

you almost couldn't believe this was happening. if middle-of the-day you had known you’d end the day just inches from fraser minten’s face, you probably wouldn't have felt so bitter about the events that went down.

you swallow the lump in your throat before you speak.

“fraser, can i be honest with you?”

his expression shifts at that, and he’s still a heartbeat away when he responds, voice barely above a whisper. “yeah?”

“i had a disastrous day, and after, i’ve been aching to be dicked down. so if that’s not what you want to do right now, please pull away.”

fraser freezes. his thumb still rests against your lip as his eyes widen slightly. for a second, his brain scrambles to make sense of what he just heard—of the complete, unfiltered honesty of your request. he can't help but be stunned.

then, when it clicks, something in the air shifts.

his pupils dilate until you could hardly see the blue in his eyes, any softness that remained in his expression melts into something much… darker.

he lets out a long, shaky exhale before replying.

“pull away?” he repeats, head slightly shaking, like he couldn't fathom anyone pulling away at a chance like this. his voice is almost unrecognizable, laced with thick desire. thick enough to rival yours.

“never in my wildest dreams would i ever do that,” is the last thing he says before he leans in, capturing your lips in a long-awaited kiss. it felt relieving, and you relaxed into it as his hand slides from your jaw to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair to hold you steady.

he pulls away to catch his breath, forehead resting against yours. his glasses fogged with every exhale, but he didn't care. “i’ve wanted this for so long, y/n. you have no idea.”

he doesn't wait for your reply before he tilts his head again for another kiss. it’s rougher than before, no longer testing the waters. this time, you could feel the hunger. his need. his possessiveness—and it all makes you moan into it.

his tongue desperately sweeps against yours in a newfound confidence, looking to taste every inch of you. he kisses like a man starved, and you could feel–or taste–something frustrated in the way he kissed you. and, truthfully, he was frustrated. frustrated at how long you’ve been depriving him of this.

then his muscular thighs slide between yours, silently expressing how much he wants you, too, if it wasn't already obvious.

in between kisses, you both take your tops off. the second you unclip your bra, fraser lets out a low, guttural sound, hands immediately moving to get a feel for them. “so fuckin’ gorgeous, sweetheart.”

you’re already straddling him at this point, and while he knows you’re growing needier and needier, he can't help but be mesmerized, staring mindlessly as he groped at them. the soft flesh felt like heaven under his touch, and he starts licking at one of your nipples.

he nibbled and sucked on it as he played with the other. you grinded against his hard-on, sighing at the friction it granted you.

fraser gets a little lost in your tits, but when he hears your whines progressively get louder, he finally pulls away with a string of saliva connecting him and the nipple. the sight only makes his cock agonizingly harder.

“p-please, frase…”

he looks back up at you, and the desperation in your eyes makes something in his head click. before you could register it, he’s gotten rid of every article of clothing getting in the way, and lifts your hips up so you can finally sink down on him.

you both moan at the sensation. your walls were gripping him like a vice, and his dick filled you up in a way that put every dildo you own to shame.

his large hands roam around your body before settling on the fat of your ass, gripping it the way he’d been gripping your chest.

“so tight, y/n… i’m gonna lose my mind,” you subconsciously tighten at his words and he curses under his breath. “you can't keep doing that, i swear—”

he cuts himself off with a groan as you grind against him.

“sorry, you just feel so good and i need it so badly frase—” he kisses you, stopping your tangent from getting any longer.

“i could say the same about you.”

you stop moving for a while, willing yourself to loosen up a little, but your efforts seem to have no effect on fraser.

“oh, god… baby,” he gasps, eyes still fluttering at the feeling. his grip on your ass tightens as he tries to steady his breathing, but you don't really hear his labored breathing. the only thing repeating in your head was what he had just called you.

baby.

the petname makes your head dizzy, and you hold back a moan as your head replays the way he said it.

fraser finally gathers himself, and starts moving up. the moans he let out were music to your ears, and as his movements sped up, your own moans grew louder.

the overly-cautious fraser you knew wasn’t present at this moment, movements driven by the sheer need to be inside you.

you bounce to meet his thrusts, and he starts hitting the spot that makes your eyes roll and toes curl. “that the spot, y/n?”

too fucked out to speak, you nod, and that brings a smile on fraser’s face. happy he was fulfilling his job well.

one of the hands he had resting on your ass moves towards your heat, beginning to circle around your neglected clit. the sudden attention on it almost knocks all the wind in your lungs out.

“fuuuuck—i feel so full of you f-frase—god,”

at that, he continues thrusting up, feeding off of your praise. your walls tighten around him again and he swears he almost came, but he holds on, dedicated to giving you what you need.

suddenly, a surge of confidence moves through fraser, and he starts saying things you never would've expected him to say, but you weren't complaining. if anything, you wanted to hear more.

"shit—you taking it well f'me? hm? y-you like the way my cock fills you up, fucking you so dumb you forgot about how your day went?"

the sudden change in his tone sends a jolt of pure electricity straight to your core. fraser is usually so soft spoken, so careful with his words, so polite. to hear him use that low, dirty tone to hear him claim you with such blunt, arrogant confidence is more intoxicating than the physical sensation itself.

his eyes move between your cunt—admiring the way he disappears in you and how well you take him—and your expression. he loved seeing how the pleasure twisted your face, loved that he was lucky enough to be blessed with such a sight, loved that it was him making you feel this good.

“thaaat’s it,” he coos, hips snapping upward at an unruly pace. “look at you, you’re such a good girl for me, aren't you? taking it all.”

his thrusts are purposeful, aiming directly at the spot he found over and over again, and even looking to go deeper if he could. he relished in the way your walls tighten at his words.

"tell me," he commands, his voice a husky, demanding rasp as he thrusts deeper, his thick thighs tensing with the effort. "tell me how much you love it when I'm inside you like this. tell me you don't want anyone else to ever touch you like this again."

the words that leaves fraser’s mouth feel uncharacteristic, when really you’ve just tapped into a new version of fraser that you created. he’s toeing the line between friends just helping each other and something much more, testing how much of this would later be disregarded as things he said in the heat of the moment, or be taken as what they are. the truth.

he tsks at your lack of response, and you’re already apologizing in your head before you could find the strength to voice it out.

“say it, baby,” he whispers against your ear, pace becoming frantic. “tell me you’re mine.”

he continues to be unrelenting in his thrusts, because there’s a part of him that wishes that it doesn't register in your brain. that you file it away as “dirty talk,” and he counts on your fucked out self to keep quiet, so that you don't make the mistake of choosing a response that’ll completely undo him.

much to his dismay, you say exactly what his brain has been itching to hear.

“‘m yours! i’m a-all yours, frase–!” you cut yourself off with a scream as one powerful thrust hits a part of you you've never felt anyone or anything reach before. you can feel your orgasm at the tip of your tongue at this point, and you were a slurring mess. even just that one sentence took all your brain power to create.

the sound of your scream and your admission are the final catalyst that break him. it sends a surge of pure, unadulterated adrenaline through his veins, and his eyes are blown wide as he watches the way your body arches and trembles beneath him.

his large hands are gripping your hips so tightly he knows it’ll leave faint bruises, but he doesn't really care as long as it isn't hurting you. he wants to leave a mark. he wants you to remember this.

he slows his thrusts down to deepen them, and it’s just what you needed to tip you right over the edge. you reach your climax with a loud moan of his name, and he keeps moving through it, chasing his own high.

“you’re mine,” he pants, his voice a ragged, broken thing. “mine, mine, mine…”

he whispered those words, unable to keep them to himself, hoping the ringing in your ears would block him out.

the sensation of your walls pulsing around him is too much, and he spills into you right away. your walls continue to flutter around him, milking him for all he’s worth.

he collapses forward, his heavy chest rising against yours, burying his face in your neck to catch his breath before finding your lips again in a kiss.

after just letting your lips move against each other, you pull back enough to look at him. his hair is a damp, curly mess, his face is flushed, and his eyes are back to normal. he looks completely spent, still breathing heavily, but there was a faint trace of a smile on his lips.

“you alright there?” he breaks the silence first, his voice now returning to the sweet one you were used to. “did… did that help?”

the quick switch from whatever wild animal possessed him, back to his gentle, fraser-like manner, gave you whiplash—if you didn't already have it by now. but even after that intense orgasm... you wanted more. remnants of your day were still in your head, and you wanted nothing more than for them to be gone.

"yeah," you pull out of him, still sounding slurred. but right as you got out, you crawl over and get on all fours, pushing your ass in front of him. "but i-i think i need more..."

you don't know what’s gotten into you, but you’ve never experienced an orgasm like that in your life. if this was the only night you’d get another orgasm like that, you knew better than to waste it.

alright, maybe you were a liiittle dick-notized, so what? fraser seems to be pussy-drunk too. a win-win situation.

it's only when you turn to look back at him with a pleading look on your face as he got a front row view of his cum oozing out of your hole, that he realized he was in for a long night.