"am i making you nervous?"
fraser minten x f!reader
summary — after a terrible day, you need to get laid. like, need. but being recently dumped and afraid of hooking up with strangers, you aren't left with many options. you’re already hanging on by a thread when fraser shows up at your door looking unfairly good. it takes everything in you not to ask him to help with your little... problem, and things only get worse once your show takes a very explicit turn. luckily for you, fraser's a good friend.
warnings/tags — explicit smut, unprotected sex/creampie (wrap it before u tap it always!), riding, implied friends to lovers (ending is pretty ambiguous), sexual tension, hint of a praise kink maybe?, dirty talk (sort of possessive), breast play, couch sex, glasses stay ON!, pet names (baby, sweetheart, good girl), intended lowercase, sad attempts at humor, honestly a little angsty - but mostly smut, not proofread we die like real men. 18+ content! read at ur own discretion!
word count — 3,478
a/n — first fic on here, but this is not my first rodeo! this one's wordy, but im definitely not opposed to making it wordier with a part 2, if anybody would want that!
today has been terrible. it felt like the world was working against you at all times, and by the end, all you wanted was a good fuck. either that, or a good night’s rest.
problem is: you have no one to go to. you’d recently broken up with your boyfriend, and you didn't feel like going out. but even if you did feel like it, all of your friends were busy, and a night out alone sounded like a true crime story waiting to happen.
you were starting to think you should just choose sleep, but in the middle of binging a show, someone knocks at your door. it was fraser.
you and fraser have been friends since… forever. you knew the ins and outs of each other, and despite his busy schedule, you managed to keep in touch.
and you soorttt of have a tiny crush on him. sort of. but it was tiny! minuscule, even. molecular. and other synonyms.
in your current state, however… you’ve never wanted to eat him alive more than now. but you're a good well-adjusted member of society, so instead of jumping his bones, you ask him why he's here.
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.
update: part 2 is out!!
