Since we're in a baby fever: stewy being a literal daddy. I feel like he would actually be good with kids
Warnings: Implied drug use, mentions of pregnancy
He's a little bit of dick at first when you tell him.
He tells you that he'll start interviewing nannies, and he says it with a teasing little grin.
But when you press, "Stewy," Softly, belying your nerves, it kinda lands with him more seriously.
He jumps into plan mode—getting you a better apartment with room for the baby, but not moving you in with him.
It makes sense to you. Stewy needs his space, and you didn't expect him to become a lap dog with a baby on the way.
Besides, he likes his late-night activities, and you're not gonna begrudge him that. There are some activities of his that you don't want around the baby.
Stewy doesn't want those around the baby, either. He saw how they messed up Kendall's relationship and marriage.
Speaking of marriage—
"Do you wanna get married?" He asks while you're sorting through paint color sample sheets.
"If this is your proposal, Hosseini, I'm underwhelmed."
You glance up at him, thoughtful. Then you say, "Maybe, someday. But not just because of...You know."
You look back down at the paint, and he drops the topic.
You and the baby get the best of everything.
Did you know that there was such a thing as designer maternity clothing?
You know now, because it just turns up at your door. You never order any of it, Stewy always does.
He takes care of the down payment on your new apartment, but agrees to let you pay the utilities.
He puts your name on the lease, lets you choose most of the furnishings, which makes it feel like your home, not like 'the place that was bought for you'.
You do disagree over the nursery's furnishings.
You manage to talk him down from white carpet, because it's a baby's room, and, "Babies are messy."
"You'll have a maid, it'll stay clean."
Once the baby's there, Stewy's at the apartment most nights. Not every night, but often enough to know when dinner time for the baby is, and bedtime, and when not to come bursting into the apartment after a night out.
That's when his having his own apartment comes in handy.
If he can't say goodnight himself, he usually tries to FaceTime with the baby.
The baby gets as many designer clothes as you do—almost entirely ordered by Stewy as well.
It's not uncommon to see Stewy with the baby in his arm, and his phone in the other hand, texting or emailing.
Or to see Stewy bouncing the child with his phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder.
Stewy curses around the baby often, but not pointedly. He just doesn't think about it.
He does hire a nanny to help you out, and you find that you don't mind it as much as you thought you might.
You're able to go back to work without worrying terribly about the baby.
Sometimes, when you're heading home, you step out of the office building to find Stewy standing in front of a black town car, waiting for you.
9/10 times the two of you go home to the baby.
The other time, he ushers you into the bar and takes you out to dinner, or at least get takeout before heading home to the baby.
Stewy's not always the easiest to be with, but he's mostly understanding when you put your foot down where your child is involved.
On the baby's first birthday, as you're getting throw the baby's birthday party, you look down to find the baby crawling you.
"Honey," You coo, bending down to scoop them up, "What are you doing? I thought Daddy was picking something for you to wear—" Your eyes dart to a small bracelet on the baby's wrist, and find an engagement ring hanging there.
You stare at it for a moment, stunned, before you spot Stewy standing in the doorway, smiling expectantly. You huff out a soft laugh, shaking your head a little as the baby squirms and squeals, gripping your shirt.
Stewy comes more deeply into the room, asking, "Still underwhelmed?"
"Shut up," You laugh softly as Stewy cuddles into your side and drops a kiss to your lips.
how do you think stewy would realistically react to kendall telling him the truth about the car crash?
Y'know, I've actually wondered this a lot and while I'm not entirely sure, I suspect he'd probably be a little similar to Roman? In that sense, he'd be less concerned with the act itself, and more with the impact it had had on Kendall, and that it would sort of flatten out into this space of worry for him but dismissiveness of the act overall.
I do think there'd probably be an added layer of bitterness from Stewy though too, because the show's implied that Kendall and Stewy have done pretty awful things together before between the drugs and Kendall's bachelor party, so the fact that Kendall would hide something like this and lose them the deal that Stewy had been orchestrating - - it's probably going to feel like a betrayal all over again. It's a sort of fundamental distrust which is indicative of a deeper fracture in their relationship – something doubly significant when you consider that Kendall trusted him to such a serious degree in the early episodes of s1 with the Waystar debt information.
It's this interesting insight into exactly how quickly Kendall retreats after he feels burned, and for all the ways he trusts too freely, he's never trusted anyone as much as he's trusted his father.
I am never not thinking about Season 2's first Kenstew interaction where Stewy desperately wants to know what happened? why Ken went back?
I believe he has seen this before : Ken trying to do something on his own and then cowering and going back to logan. But this time they were so close and he can see there is something else too.
He has known this guy almost his whole life. No matter how many times he tries to keep it strictly business he can't help it. His cool idgaf demeanour cracks and he asks what happened? there's a friend card that Kendall could play...
But Ig he knows that Ken won't tell him, yet he tries. Because he has known this fucker his whole life and he cares about him and he can't fucking help it.
Also just thinking about Kenstewy again, I feel like their deal is gonna be that Kendall's trying to get him on board to help Shiv and Roman stop Matsson buying Waystar, and through all the arguments he makes Stewy is just like 🥱🙄, not at all convinced. So eventually Kendall pulls out his card, "if you come with us, I'll tell you why I pulled out of the takeover. The real reason. I get it, you know. I haven't made it easy for you to have confidence in me, and I'd like to change that. I mean, you'll have to wait for the details. It, uh, there's a legal process and my dad's involved and I don't wanna drag you into a shitstorm. But the point is I want open communication between us."
And Stewy kinda looks at him incredulously, feeling kinda pissed that he's dangling this in front of him as a bargaining chip and not yet trusting that Kendall really cares about him or about being a better friend, but he can't dismiss the significance of what he's offering either. So he ends up agreeing on his own conditions and keeps his emotions at bay for the moment, telling himself to stay pragmatic and that this is just business.
INT. EASTNOR CASTLE - KENDALL’S WAR ROOM. NIGHT (N2)
Kendall puts his key card to the door, comes in. Stewy is
watching the TV.
Hey. Okay? I think Logan came calling to my room. I thought it was safest just to hole up here --
Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. I will block minors interacting with this work.
Notes: Fuck it, third part of the Stewy Hosseini fic
Warnings: Cursing, angst, explicit sexual content—oral sex (female receiving), vagina sex
Summary: You don’t want to think about Stewy when he’s not around, but you can’t help yourself.
Working with Stewy has never been fun, but since Vegas—since you cleared the air after Colbert, then mucked it up, and then cleared it again—things have been…Amiable.
It makes you nervous.
Stewy and Sandy’s requests have, for the most part, been reasonable. Of course, that makes you feel like Stewy is trying to lull you into a false sense of security before he drops a request to speak with the President of the United States, lest he terminate your contract. He’d do it, too—you’re certain of it.
But these days, Stewy seems…Better. He’s on a far more even keel. His decisions seem less erratic; the proxy battle is raging on, but strategy is firming up, and you’ve hit on consistent messaging that’s beginning to resonate with the shareholders, and with the public (namely, that Logan Roy is a dinosaur and has no knowledge of running a modern media company—which the public agrees with, but few people seem willing to say).
The teasing edge that had trailed through the first couple of days in Vegas has flooded back into your interactions. You’re less afraid to trade barbs with him, which is good. There are of course, still times when you want to wring his fucking neck, and you’re certain that there are times when he’d like to wring yours. You know that you’re not always the easiest person to work with, particularly when you’re annoyed—and Stewy still annoys the fuck out of you on a weekly basis.
You don’t want to think about Stewy when he’s not around, but you can’t help yourself. When you’re working with another client, you can imagine him wise-cracking about their PR plans, questioning their methods. When you’re working on an email to him and Sandy, you imagine him swanning through some café in SoHo, or lounging on an armchair with a drink in hand, his legs crossed as he bobs a slutty bare ankle, gazing at some dealer or model or rap artist with a carefully measured boredom. When you’re in your apartment, you imagine him in his—whatever his is like, wherever it is. Is he hosting a party? Is he snorting a line off of his coffee table? Is he fucking Grant?
Well, he’s not fucking Grant, you would’ve heard about it by now if he was.
Is he fucking anyone?
“So, we’re on for tonight, right?”
The question knocks you for a loop, only adding to the mercurial impression that you have of Stewy these days. But when Michael mutters, “Oh—Shit,” And Stewy looks between the two of you quizzically, brows raising sharply.
“I forgot to ask her,” Michael says guiltily, glancing between the two of you.
“Ask me what?”
“Well, shit’s been hitting the fan so much lately that I thought we’d uh…Shut the fan off for a bit and chill out,” Stewy tucks his hands into his pockets, “Sandy agrees, so—I’ve arranged something.”
“Yeah. You busy tonight?”
The answer you’d like to give is yes, but the client-conscious answer is no—so you shake your head a little.
“What’s the plan?”
“You ever heard of Rhomboid?”
“...No,” You answer after racking your brain.
Michael scoffs, laughing; the sound sends a flair of irritation through you. “How’s that possible?”
“I don’t do…Things,” You answer lamely.
“Respectfully, that’s bullshit,” Stewy bats back, a little smirk tipping up his stupidly nice lips.
“It is not bullshit,” You insist.
“You’re apparently a regular at one of the most exclusive bars in Manhattan, you travel. That’s doing things.”
“I’ve been once or twice to a certain bar and I happened to remember which drink there that I liked. I went to Vegas once. You’re making it out to be more than it is.”
“Well, then let’s shake up your fucking routine. Let’s do some things,” Stewy insists, tipping his head toward you conspiratorially.
“What is Rhomboid?” You ask.
“It’s a fuckin’...Floating party,” Stewy takes his time describing it, directing his eyes thoughtfully at the ceiling as he does so. “My ex manages them, she’s, like, on the ground floor of the operations.”
“Okay. Where are we meeting?”
“I’ll handle that,” Stewy waves you off, “There’ll be a car outside your place at, like, nine.”
Christ, this is going to be a late night.
“How do you know where I live?” You ask, but a glance at the still-guilty-mugged Michael answers it. Stewy rounds the table, giving Michael another one of their handshakes before he walks around him, pointing at you on his way out.
“Nine!” He insists.
The precursory social media search that you do of Rhomboid turns up one promotional video that makes you nothing but wary about the situation. You, Michael, Stewy and Sandy at…That? God knows where?
Maybe you should write your will instead of doing your makeup.
“You having fun?”
You think the question may be asked with all sincerity, but you can never fucking tell with Stewy. Regardless, you’ve been at this abandoned warehouse for nearly two hours, and you have yet to have any fun. You will admit that the space is decorated incredibly nicely, and the music is…Fine, but you’re not exactly enjoying yourself. From arriving and giving up your fucking phone to having a number of people ask you if you’re interested in fucking when you’re technically on a work excursion—well, front to back, it’s actually been kind of excruciating.
You swirl your drink around in your glass, glancing around before finally turning your head to look at Stewy. Even in a casual situation, he looks insanely put together. Jesus, are his jeans tailored? You take in the others—the crush of partiers—all of the things that could get you in trouble, even if you were in a situation that didn’t involve your biggest client. When Stewy tips his head to the side, you realize that he’s waiting for you to answer.
“Oodles.” You turn, leaning against the bar and resting your elbows against it. You take in a deep breath before adopting Bill Hader’s Stefan voice:
“New York’s hottest club is Rhomboid,” You shift your head back and forth, “This place has everything—Molly, sex swings…your coworker asking you for a handy.”
“No he fucking didn’t,” Stewy turns to you, awed. But Michael had. It had been a painfully awkward affair. Michael had been drunk and giggling, leering at you in the low light. When you’d turned him down, he’d blessedly let it go, and wandered off in search of someone interested.
You nod. “I’m going to chalk it up to the drugs and alcohol and do my best to forget it by Monday.”
“Shit,” Stewy laughs, shaking his head, “I didn’t think he’d do that.”
“Makes two of us.”
“Seriously, though, are you having fun?”
“Why not?” Stewy shifts a little closer, and you force yourself to ignore the warmth of him so close, and the scent of his cologne. It seems stronger than usual. You can’t tell if it’s the heady atmosphere, or if he’s just given himself an additional spritz before leaving his apartment (which you have started to imagine is large, douchey, and decorated with the eclectic touch of an overly ambitious Upper East Side decorator).
“This isn’t my kinda thing,” You answer, “Is it yours?”
“What do you think?”
“I think I don’t know you well enough to speak to that facet of your preferences.”
“Thought you said that you knew men like me.”
“Clearly I do not.”
“I did ask,” You point out, turning to look at him. You find him stunningly close. His eyes seem bottomless in the bar’s dim light; his cheeks are shadowed by his smirk; his eyelashes are so lovely, and his hair looks…Soft.
There’s no real silence between the two of you; there can’t be with the thudding music, and the bustling of the other party-goers (orgy-goers? Is this technically an orgy—?)
“So?” You press, unable to help it. Stewy’s eyes wander your face before he shakes his head a little, loosening a questioning, “Hm?” As his eyes slide from your lips to your eyes.
“Is this your kinda thing?” You ask.
“And other times?”
“...Depends on the time.”
You roll your eyes a little, turning your head away from Stewy and looking around.
“You really don’t like this,” He says.
“Do you like anything?”
“Silence is nice.” You tip your head, giving Stewy a precocious smile. But he smiles, too.
“Is that the sort of thing that would’ve put another white streak in my hair?” He chuckles.
“Maybe not a full streak, just a strand or two.”
Stewy pushes off of the bar, shifting from foot to foot before he leans against it again, his body turned fully toward you.
"Look,” He says with careful slowness, “I think we got off on the wrong foot."
“Oh, do you?”
"I think it's pretty precious to assume there's a right foot."
"Well, I would like to start over again with a question, if that's cool with you."
"Depends on the question."
"Do you wanna go fuck?"
It’s as blunt as a blow about the head, spoken with the plainness of his suggestions when you’re on a conference call, or recounting talking points before some show appearance or another. He just looks at you, and blinks, and waits—for you to back down, or for you to tell him to go fuck himself.
"...Are you serious?” You manage after a moment. Stewy smiles, using his position against the bar to lean just a little closer to you. He glances around, as if ensuring neither Michael nor Sandy are nearby before his head dips toward you.
"I know somewhere quiet where we won't be bothered, you know—in case your coworker comes back angling for a handjob again. So?”
Your eyes wander his face as you consider. He truly doesn’t seem to be teasing you. You think, maybe, that this is a long game—that there’s an incoming sike. But when one doesn’t arise (maybe he’s waiting for you to agree or decline?), you turn to look out over the bar, gnawing at your lower lip. He might be…Good at it, or he might think that he’s good at it. If he’s awful, you’ll regret it—if he’s great, doubly so. You feel Stewy watching you, and you don’t have to look to know if there’s a stupid little smirk on his face. There always is.
"Stop it," You grumble.
"Hey, the longer you're quiet, more of a chance you'll say yes, right?"
"You think so?"
"Quiet means you're thinking about it."
You wish he was wrong. You’d very badly like him to be wrong. But you are thinking about it—the idea of him taking you to dark corner is more appealing than you’d care to admit. You take in a deep breath, and give a single nod.
"Seriously?" Stewy asks as you turn, plucking up your glass and draining the contents.
“Sure. Why the hell not,” You shrug a shoulder before you clap your hands and rub them together as if to warm them. “Where are we doing this?”
Stewy rests a hand on your lower back, steering you through the throng. You feel like you should be marking the path from the bar—this warehouse is labyrinthian, full of low light, with a constant flow of people streaming in and out of rooms. You mark moans and slapping sounds coming from one room to the next as you pass them. Stewy doesn’t seem to mind a bit. He doesn’t hurry you along with that hand on your lower back; he doesn’t drive you down the hall. He just leads in a way that’s almost comforting. His touch is steady and sure, and careful. He doesn’t grip or tug. It feels all too…Soothing.
As soon as Stewy leads you into a room, shutting the door behind himself, you resolve yourself to push away every warm, benevolent feeling that you have had toward Stewy Hosseini in the last five minutes.
“Isn’t there a lock? What if someone comes in?” You ask, frowning.
“Nah,” Stewy shakes his head, “A shut door here means fuck off.”
When he comes closer, in slow, careful steps, you just reach out, taking hold of his belt and fumbling to undo it (it’s been a while, and these aren’t exactly the circumstances that you figured would be around your next dalliance). Stewy goes still, looking down at your hands, and watching them with stunned amusement.
"What...Are you doing,” He manages after a moment.
"We came in here to fuck, right?"
"And you think I'm gonna just whip it out and stick it in?"
"Yeah,” You shrug, hands going still on Stewy’s belt, “I think you're gonna two-pump-chump it."
"Oh-hoho okay,” Stewy laughs, and the sound of it raises as much ire now as it did at the bar with Michael. “Is that why you said yes? To see if your pussy is so magical that it makes me cum on the spot?"
“Oh, I don’t need proof of that,” You shake your head, looking up from his belt to meet his eyes.
“Nn-nn. I know just how magical my pussy is.”
“I mean, I’m not gonna say that it’s aided in the fall of civilizations—”
“Is this the cunt that launched a thousand ships—”
“Exactly, but I’m still young, you know. There’s time. I’m not dead yet.”
“Plenty of time,” Stewy agrees, crowding closer. You find yourself backing away a touch, but as your hands are still hooked to his belt, you’re effectively tugging him with you.
“Got your sights set high?” Stewy asks.
“Must not be that high if I’m starting with you.”
“You could do a lot worse than me, you know.”
“Oh, I know. I could be giving my coworker a handjob right now.”
“I wouldn’t wanna give Sandy a handy.”
“Nn—That’s just one dick I don’t think I want a look at.”
“But you wanna look at mine?”
“Oh, so now you just want me to look at it? Am I gonna paint your dick like it’s one of my French girls?”
Stewy closes the space between the two of you, resting his hands on your hips.
“Actually, if it’s alright with you, I wanna take things just a little more differently.”
“Do you mind if I—?”
“Of course.” Your answer comes out more boldly than you feel. You expect Stewy to…Pull your shirt off, or push at the waistband of your pants, or paw at one of your boobs—something.
But he crowds up close, cupping your cheeks as he leans in for a kiss. You don’t even hesitate to give it to him—you’re too stunned to hesitate. The first press of lips is careful, and gentle—it’s almost chaste. Stewy draws away just a little, eyes wandering your face. You wonder what he’s looking for; you wonder if he can feel the way your face heats with surprise, your heart ticking up in your chest.
And then you lean into him, letting your eyes slip shut as you almost blindly chase his lips. Stewy hums softly against your lips, the tenderest I told you so. He doesn’t have far to go to press you back into the wall, and you go willingly. You raise your hands from his belt to curl in the fabric of his shirt. Stewy slips a hand around to curl around the nape of your neck, tipping your head as he likes. You let him—you let him move and turn you as he likes.
You didn’t think it would be like this. You thought the two of you would be quick about the whole thing; you thought Stewy would get in, get out, and go on to his next conquest for the evening. But Stewy is taking his damn time—and you’d be lying if you said that his slow kisses, his almost methodical sweetness, isn't doing it for you. You slip your hands up to skim your fingers through his beard (what the hell, it’s so soft—there must be some sort of oil or something that he uses). Stewy draws away just a little, nudging his nose along yours. Your eyes open, watching him as he murmurs, “Is this too different for you?”
You swallow thickly, shaking your head a little bit.
“No, this is, uh…” You clear your throat, “This is fine.”
“Just fine? I can go find someone that might do it better,” Stewy offers, his lips brushing yours.
“A generous offer, but no.”
“I think we’re finding a good rhythm.”
“So I shouldn’t go get Sandy to sub in?”
“That is not even funny. I am so dry right now—”
“Shit,” Stewy groans sarcastically, leaning away, “I am so sorry—”
“You’re just going to have to make it up to me.”
“How do you suggest I do that?” Stewy asks, bracketing you in with his arms.
“Up to you,” You answer as nonchalantly as you can, despite the fact that your entire body feels as if it’s buzzing.
“Putting a lot of faith in me,” Stewy teases, gently pushing at the hem of your shirt.
“You’ve shown, time and time again, that you get some pretty decent ideas.”
“My ears are burning.”
“So, show me what you got, hotshot.”
“We’re rhyming now?”
“I’m a poet and I don’t even know it.”
Stewy chuckles, dipping his head and mouthing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. You squirm just a little, your grip tightening in his shirt. His beard tickles—but it’s not a sharp or unpleasant sensation.
“Wet yet?” He mumbles against your skin. You smile a touch before answering, “It’s a start.”
“A start—So, like…Damp?” Stewy presses. You can’t help but laugh, raising a hand and slapping it over your mouth to stifle the sound.
“Okay,” Stewy murmurs. “Okay, I see how it is.”
“Mm, and this situation…” His hands deftly unbutton your jeans before gently pushing them and your underwear down your thighs, “Clearly calls for direct action.”
“Is my pussy a situation? I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
Stewy chuckles, sliding his hand up under your shirt as he lowers himself to his knees. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch him go—as he settles down easily, like he belongs there, and soothes his hands over your thighs, he peers up at you from under his long, dark lashes. You sweep your tongue across your lips, stunned, your stomach churning with surprise and anticipation.
“How do you feel about it now?” Stewy murmurs.
“Dunno, you haven’t done anything yet.” Then, against your better judgement—“You know, I never imagined you on your knees for, like…Anyone.”
Stewy hums thoughtfully, his hand smoothing up your inner thigh.
“So you’ve imagined me other ways?”
“...I didn’t say that.”
“You just don’t seem the type.”
“The type to what?”
“You thought I was some Ben-Shapiro-DJ-Khaled shithead?”
“Crossed my mind.”
“So you tried to picture me on my knees and couldn’t.”
“No, I just—I mean you get certain vibes from a person.”
“And your vibes were, like…cock-focused—”
“Dumbass—yeah, well, kinda—”
“Do you want me to eat you out?”
The question is jarring in a way that it shouldn’t be—your pants are tugged down and he’s on his knees for christssake.
“...Sure,” You answer lamely.
“Because the talking makes it seem like you’re not in the mood.”
“Then shut me up, Hosseini.”
Stewy grins, ducking his head sucking a kiss against your pussy lips. The slick warmth and the brush of his beard makes your stomach clench. You expect him to lean back and issue a tease, but he just nuzzles closer before sliding his tongue along your lips. Stewy nudges your legs a touch wider, and you oblige as much as you can with your legs hobbled by your jeans. Stewy hums as he laps hotly over your clit. You press your hands against the wall behind you, sucking in a stunned breath as Stewy flicks the tip of his tongue over your clit, moving from side to side before flicking upward quickly. The sensation is almost maddening; his tongue slides unerringly as his beard brushes your pussy, nudging against your inner thighs.
You glance down, confused, when you feel him yanking at your foot.
“Off,” He mutters, leaning back to look down at your shoe.
“Zipper—On the side,” You manage, your mind racing as you watch him undo one shoe and tug it away, then the other. You think he might grasp your ankle and tug your foot down to grind against—and you’re fine with that—but instead, he pulls both shoes off before he reaches up, yanking your jeans and underwear down the rest of the way. You obligingly lift one foot, then the other. Stewy tosses them away before he tucks his hand around your knee, tugging your leg up and over his shoulder. You feel far more exposed this way, but it doesn’t last long—Stewy is diving right in, sweeping his tongue across your spread pussy, steadying you with a hand resting against your stomach.
“Fuck,” You breathe, letting your eyes fall closed. Stewy just hums against you, making your hips twist desperately against his mouth. Stewy smooths his hand up your thigh again before he teases his fingertips along your slick opening. He lets out a curious sound, drawing back to peer at your glistening, flushed lips in the low light.
“Look at that,” He mutters.
“I’d say that’s more than damp.”
You loose an ugly laugh, tipping your head back against the wall as you squeeze your eyes shut.
“Shut up!” You screech, reaching down and blindly batting at his forehead, “God you’re the wo-orst!” Your voice hitches as he leans back in, sucking your clit between his lips as he eases a finger into you. You shiver, pressing down against it. Stewy laves his tongue over your lips, carefully thrusting the finger in and out before pressing in another. You squirm, sliding your hands up under your shirt and squeezing your breasts through your bra. It feels good, but it’s not enough. Your body grows hotter and hotter with each passing thrust and curl of Stewy’s fingers, every swipe of his tongue, and each hum, and sigh. You finally reach down, tugging the hem of your top up and over your head, tossing it in the direction of your jeans before you reach back to undo your bra. No sooner than your bra is shrugged off does Stewy reach up, palming one of your breasts. He groans against your cunt as his thumb sweeps across your hardening nipple.
“Shit, Stewy,” You sigh, covering his hand with one of your own and squeezing your breast with his hand. His fingers pick up pace as you gasp, your hips rolling more harshly against him.
“Goddamn,” He mumbles against your pussy, “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He sounds stunned by it. Looking down, you find Stewy watching you grind against him, lips parted, then closing to bite at his lower lip. He peers up at you from under his lashes again, his lips and beard shining with you. He leans in, sticking his tongue out for you to fuck against. You find that you can’t take your eyes off of him as you grind more fervently, face going hot with his attention.
“Stewy,” You mumble in warning, jaw quivering as you feel your orgasm building. He nods, lapping swiftly over your pussy as he curls his fingers. Your legs tense as you hinge forward just a touch, gasping as your orgasm shoots through you. You grind sharply against his lips, as your pussy pulses around his still-probing fingers. Stewy gives your pussy lips one last suck before he rocks back onto his heels, peering up at you, his lips, chin and beard slick.
“You think Ben Shapiro could do that?”
“What happened to being so chatty?”
“I thought you enjoyed a bit of conversation,” Stewy grins as he curls over you, bracing his hands on the floor on either side of your head. You stubbornly fight the urge to close your eyes, to hone in on and savor the stretch of your pussy around his cock.
“You were certainly talking plenty before.”
“You told me that the talking made you feel like I wasn’t in the mood. I can take a note when it’s given.”
“Well, that was different.”
“Oh, so you want me to talk now?” It’s a wonder to you that you can snip at this man now, even as he bottoms out, his condom-sheathed cock twitching as your pussy tightens around him. ”You want me to tell you how big your dick is?”
Stewy swallows thickly, his adam’s apple bobbing as he gives a small nod.
“Could start there, sure.”
“Want me to do that before or after your two pumps?”
Stewy’s lips split into a wolfish grin before he rears back, palming your hip.
“You know what—”
“Just tell me, before or after—”
“Because you’re so good at taking a note?”
“Oh, I’m the bes—” You can’t finish your taunting. Your jaw drops open as Stewy’s hips snap against yours once. You suck in a breath, pressing up against him. You hadn’t been shocked by how in-shape he was; the cut of his clothing had always made it pretty clear. But even now, as you allow your eyes to wander his chest and arms, you can’t help but admire his physique.
“Th-That’s one,” You tease, curling your fingers around his shoulders.
“You’re gonna eat those fuckin’ words,” Stewy swears, his thrusts slowing to a shallow pulse.
Stewy presses you more tightly to the floor as his hips hammer yours. You arch your back, brushing your chest against Stewy’s, whimpering at the sensation. Stewy dips his head, sucking a kiss to your jaw. You slide your hand up to curl around the nape of his neck, and rest it there for a moment before you finally give into the urge to reach up and slide your hand into his hair (which is, unsurprisingly, just as soft as his beard).
“If you give me a fucking hickey, Hosseini—”
Stewy gives a harsh suck to your jaw, and you pull in a gasp, tugging his hair in retaliation.
“I’m s-erious,” You whimper, though the way your cunt pulses around his cock probably makes it clear that you’re lying. Stewy slows his pace to a lazy roll as he tips his head up.
“I thought you were just starting to relax.”
“And now you’re being serious?”
“You like the sound of your voice too much,” You groan, letting your head fall back and rest on the floor.
“You don’t like it? Baby, you’re gonna hurt my feelings.”
You can’t see Stewy’s smile, but you can hear it. It makes you push yourself up against him and curl your legs around his. Stewy lowers his head, nuzzling his beard across your neck.
“Why can’t I mark you up?” Stewy murmurs, “Worried Michael will see?”
“Please don’t talk about Michael right now—”
Stewy chuckles, bracing his hands against the floor and beginning to snap his thrust sharply against yours. You groan, sliding your hands up to cup his neck. You don’t bother quieting your moans or whimpers; no one else at this party does. As Stewy picks up pace, you grow louder and louder, your moans growing to cries and wails as your orgasm swells.
“Stewy—Fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop—”
Stewy curses against the juncture of your neck, his mouth widening and pushing out harsh, slick pants against your neck as his hips rabbit and twitch against yours. You can feel his cock pulsing and twitching. You hiss softly, sagging back and untensing as you begin to come down from your orgasm. You uncurl your fingers from where they’re cupping Stewy’s neck before you slide them tenderly over his shoulders. Stewy brushes a kiss along your jaw before he carefully rolls off of you.
“...If you give me ten minutes,” He says. You laugh softly, shaking your head.
“A charming offer, but I’ll be too busy washing my mouth out with Everclear.”
You feel Stewy watching you as you push yourself up off of the floor, beginning to gather your things and put on your clothes.
“...You at least have fun?”
You glance down in time to see Stewy tying off the condom and tossing it into a nearby bin.
“I lost count of the number of pumps, so. You know, fine, I guess.”
“So how about in fifteen minutes, five minutes after you finish gargling with Everclear—”
“I’m leaving now.”
As you leave the room, you see something that makes you stop dead. You can’t drag your eyes from it, your mouth working wordlessly before you finally manage:
“Seconds already? I’m gonna need another seven minutes at least.”
You turn back to where he’s still lying on the floor, relaxed and sated. You snap twice, drawing his full attention before you point.
“There was a bed here the whole time?”
Tag list: @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @revolution-starter
#Stewy Hosseini x Reader #Stewy Hosseini x You #Long Shot #The Right Foot
It’s far less “Stewy is an extension of Kendall”, and more like Kendall is Stewy’s morality puppy. Stewy is a self serving capitalist asshole, but he wants to see this fragile (also asshole) little idiot safe and away from daddy.
it’s stupid to ignore the fact that stewy hosseini is 100% complicit and hollow and self-serving and will ‘follow the money like a dog in a cartoon’ and is willing to get his hands dirty and is not in fact any more enlightened or honourable or high-minded than the rest of them. he’s certainly an incredibly competent businessman, he’s less emotionally depraved than the roys and seemingly also much better at actually enjoying the fruits of his wealth, but him calling the roys out on their bs doesn’t undo the fact that he is also addicted to the fucked up game they’re playing! and he’s not merely a voyeur, he’s an active participant, he excels in a system that rewards the basest forms of greed and corruption and psychopathy and general malice. he could fuck off to, like, scandinavia if he wanted, but at the end of the day he’s still here enmeshed in this lifestyle because he needs it and gets off on it. and we cannot ignore the fact that he was/is besties with KENDALL ROY like stewy hosseini is not in fact above it all! he’s fully kind of pathetic in his own right! that said he is perfect and sexy and the main character and they should make a better call saul esque spin-off show about him
Honestly the only good thing to happen to Sydney that night was that it didn’t take her too long to book an Uber back to her apartment, and the traffic wasn’t bad either while going home.
“It’ll be fun, I promise,” Stewy had told her earlier when he picked her up for date night, bringing her to a club that just opened.
She actually hoped he’d just take her out to a quiet and fancy dinner before he’d take her home to make out on the couch while Pacific Rim played in the background. But she couldn’t say no when she saw his brown eyes flash with excitement, so she smiled and followed his lead.
All of that, of course, was before he decided to be an asshole at the club.
Now she was sitting on the couch, still in her baby pink cocktail dress she was actually excited to wear, and watching old episodes of whatever sitcom Netflix suggested played as she sipped on the wine she bought a few days ago.
A good way to end a disastrous - fucking heartbreaking - Friday night.
Her cellphone buzzed and she glanced at the screen, seeing it was him calling, that cute picture of him smiling while wearing reading glasses popping up.
Sydney forced herself to frown. He was a jerk, remember?
She debated letting it ring for the rest of the night, but she didn’t want it to ruin her - she glanced at the tv - How I Met Your Mother marathon, buzzing incessantly.
That and she couldn’t help but want to make sure he was safe, that he wasn’t too drunk or coked up.
She sighed. Why did she have to care about him?
Sydney let the phone ring twice more before pausing the show and answering. “Yeah?” is all she said, hoping she sounded neutral rather than worried over his safely like she actually was.
“Hey,” Stewy’s voice on the other line was sweet, the tone he usually used when he was trying to charm her. “I saw your text. Just wanted to make sure you got home safe.”
Sydney bit her lip, her chest tightening at how concerned he sounded and relieved that he seemed ok.
She shook her head. Mad at him, remember?
Putting the wine glass down on the coffee table, she crossed her arms - as if he could definitely see that she was doing that.
“I did,” she said curtly.
He didn’t miss a single beat when he answered with, “Good, because I’m outside your door right now. Soooo,” he sing-songed casually.
Sydney turned her head to face her front door, eyes widening and imagining seeing him standing right outside.
She opened and closed her mouth, thankful that Stewy couldn’t see her otherwise he would definitely have such a smug grin on his stupid cute face.
No, stay strong Syd. Stay strong. Tell him to go away, you’re tired, you’ll see him when you see him. Tell him-
“Why?” she ended up saying. And with no one around to see her, she facepalmed and mouthed Shit.
“I wanted to check on my girl to see why she decided to leave early, and you know, ask her why she left without saying goodbye first?”
Sydney couldn’t stop herself from hissing, “Oh I’m sorry if I didn’t want to bother you. You just seemed so fucking busy talking to all those models or whoever those girls were by the bar.”
A pause followed.
She said it. No going back.
Back in the club, Stewy told her he was just going to pass by the bar to say hello to a few friends he saw and get her a drink.
She waited fifteen minutes before she decided it was too long and stood from their table to go and find him.
Only to see him chatting up dolled up bombshells. They were fucking laughing and slapping his chest and everything.
She felt her heart shatter into a million pieces and she couldn’t even hear her thoughts with the music blaring all around her.
She knew Stewy was a social butterfly and loved to party, and she didn’t mind that at all.
What she did mind was how huge his smile was and how he seemed to laugh at everything they were saying.
Like he fucking loved it.
So she texted him that she was feeling bad and booked an Uber home, all while willing herself to keep the tears from streaming down her face.
“Syd…” Stewy’s voice on the other line brought her back to the present. “Look, will you please open the door so we can talk about how much of an asshole I am?”
“Why can’t we talk about how much of an asshole you are on the phone?” She asked and she had no idea why her body decided to stand from the couch and have her walk up to her front door.
Stupid wine making her tipsy.
Stewy hummed playfully, his voice in her ear. “Well I just happen to have an extra burger with me and I don’t want it to go cold.”
“Why not give it to one of those girls you just couldn’t seem to get enough of back at the club?” She knew she was being a brat but it was late, her feelings were hurt and she couldn’t stop the words from coming out of her mouth.
Just thinking about those glammed up Victoria’s Secret looking women from the bar hitting on her man made her want to punch the nearest wall and flip a table.
“You sure?” Stewy asked. “Because I did ask for extra cheese, no lettuce and no tomatoes for it. Know someone who likes her burger that way?”
Ok. That got her to smile. And she was actually really hungry and that burger would go great with her wine.
So she put her cellphone down before opening her door, and saw Stewy on the other side, an apologetic, puppy dog-looking smile on his face as he held his phone up to his ear, his other hand carrying a brown paper bag.
Dammit he was cute.
He put his phone away and held up the paper bag in front of her, the scent of the delicious smelling food filling her nostrils.
Sydney twitched her lips up into a small smile. “Best not to let such a good burger go to waste,” she said softly.
Stewy’s smile widened and his brown eyes brightened up. “Do I get invited in too or it’s just the food?” he joked, leaning an arm on the doorframe.
She pursed her lips and tapped a finger to her chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Well the burger hasn’t done anything against me. You on the other hand…” she trailed off, crossing her arms.
“What if the food and I work together on this?” Stewy asked and Sydney actually laughed and was about to ask how the fuck was that supposed to work when he continued with, “Consider it my peace offering for being a shitty boyfriend tonight.”
Sydney stayed quiet, wanting to see where he was going with this.
“I really did run into a colleague of mine and she introduced me to her friends, and I lost track of time,” He sighed heavily. “Yeah sure some of them got a little touchy feely-”
Sydney opened her mouth and was actually about to pluck the paper bag from his hand and slam the door shut on him, but of course, Stewy sensed she was getting pissed and raised a hand in front of her.
“But!” he said. “I can assure you those hands didn’t stray too far and I told them I’m off the market.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “You did?”
“Of course, and also mentioned that I'm with a really really incredibly sexy gal.”
There was a pause before he added, “Who is also forgiving. I didn’t say that last part but she is,” he said playfully.
She stared him up and down. She knew he was being genuine, but just seeing him having fun with those other women, how he looked so in his element and comfortable surrounded by gorgeous babes, it just reminded her that she was still new to his whole world of New York’s elite.
She was proud whenever she saw him work the room so easily, casually chatting up and joking with some of the richest people in America. But then she’d also think about how she fit in his life.
What if she just wasn’t cut out for it? What if she said the wrong that that’d get him into trouble? What if he got bored? What if-
She felt his hand gently tilt her chin up to face him and her heart skipped a beat as she gazed into his brown eyes, staring down at her so intensely.
“You know you’re the only girl I care about, right?” he whispered.
And Sydney’s knees almost gave out from how sure he sounded.
She let out a shaky gasp before saying, “I’m sorry. It’s just,” she shook her head. “I’m still getting used to all this, you know? I know you didn’t mean to but I can't help but be jealous when I see you hanging out with all those gorgeous women-”
“Hey,” he said as he trailed his hand up to cup her cheek. His thumb gently traced over her skin in a soothing motion. “You’re the only gorgeous girl for me, ok?”
He grinned at her. “I mean, fuck. Sydney, baby, you moved from L.A. to be with me here in New York. That’s,” he shook his head disbelievingly, opening his mouth and huffing out a laugh. “That’s the most romantic fucking thing anyone has ever done for me.”
She didn’t know if it was the wine or how cute he was with his brown eyes so bright but she felt her face heat up. “What can I say?” she shrugged. “I really fucking like you.”
Stewy leaned his head closer to hers, their noses brushing against each other. Sydney licked her lips as Stewy kept her chin tilted up. “And this may come as a shock to you, but I really like you back.”
Sydney smiled sheepishly as he echoed her words. Then he glided his thumb across her lower lip, his eyes seeking hers for permission.
Sydney nodded and soon his lips were on hers, kissing her slowly and tenderly. Her hands went to the back of his neck, pulling him with her as she walked backwards into the apartment.
Stewy kicked the door closed and placed the paper bag on the side table before wrapping his arms around Sydney’s waist, all while still kissing her.
He bit her lower lip and she moaned as he coaxed her mouth open and their tongues clashed, the chaste and slow kiss turning into one more passionate.
Sydney pulled him even closer towards her, a bit frustrated that they had all these layers of clothing between them.
When they finally needed to pull away to breathe, Stewy’s hands wandered up her legs and bunched up her dress. “So, you forgive me?” he asked cheekily but God only Stewy could make it seem so sexy too.
Sydney nodded before pecking his lips. “Just maybe don’t take too long next time when you know your girlfriend is waiting for you to come back with her drink?”
Stewy brushed her chestnut brown hair away from her face. “Absolutely. But for the record, may I say it’s actually kinda hot seeing you jealous.”
Sydney rolled her eyes and scoffed. “They’re lucky I didn’t go and punch them in their expensive lip filler, botoxed faces”
Stewy inhaled sharply. “Duly noted.” A pause. “Completely unrelated but there’s this other club opening tomorrow night…”
Sydney barked out a laugh as Stewy held her in his arms, smiling at her.
Dammit not ten minutes ago she was heartbroken and cold, and now here was Stewy, melting that same heart like it was nothing. He was sweet, smug, and she really did like him so damn much.
He leaned down to press his lips against hers once more, his hands trailing down to squeeze her bum.
His mouth left hers but he continued to kiss his way across her jaw and down to her neck, sucking and nipping as he went.
Sydney tilted her head to give him more access, whimpering as he left lingering and sensual kisses, his beard prickling her rosy skin.
“Still gotta make up for being a shithead,” he whispered against her neck.
Sydney gasped softly as his hands trailed up her legs, bunching her dress up. “Thought that was what the food was for,” she teased.
Stewy chuckled, the sound vibrating against her skin. “Oh that was just part one of getting you to forgive me.”
"What's part two?" She asked breathlessly as Stewy's fingers hooked onto the waistband of her panties, pulling on them and making her grind against him.
"Fucking you 'til you can't walk straight."
Sydney moaned as he tugged her underwear down and she quickly kicked them off before capturing his lips in hers for a searing kiss.
Stewy wasted no time in inserting a finger inside her and fuck she already wanted more.
"By how fucking wet you are, I'm assuming part two's working?" he teased in between kisses.
Sydney whimpered and she wasn't sure how long she'd be able to stand at that point, already wrapping her arms around Stewy to steady herself.
"You ok, baby?" Stewy cooed playfully as he pumped his finger inside her. "Want me to carry you to the bed?"
"Couch. Bed’s too far," Sydney hissed out, keyed up and feeling heat pool in her belly.
She expected him to say something snarky but he just fucking winked at her with a stupidly sexy smug grin before pulling his finger away and lifting her up to carry her to the couch.
Her back met the cushioned surface and Stewy was on her in an instant, kissing her roughly with teeth clacking and tongues clashing as he hiked her dress up, grinding his hips against hers.
He still had way too many fucking clothes on.
"Look at me, Syd," Stewy commanded as he hovered above her.
Sydney gasped as she saw his lust-filled brown eyes staring right at her.
“I want you to know that you’re the only girl I want to fucking look at. Like, ever.” He captured her lips in his for a quick kiss.
“Seeing you jealous was so hot,” he growled against her lips. “Got me so fucking hard,” he mumbled.
Stewy moved all the way down until he reached the apex between her legs, nipping at her inner thighs as he hooked her legs over his shoulders.
He pinched her and Sydney almost sobbed seeing him gaze so fucking intensely at her from between her thighs.
“Eyes on me, baby,” he whispered and Sydney could only nod, afraid her voice would come out as a weak cry.
Then he buried his face in her, dipping his tongue along her folds and Sydney moaned obscenely loud, her fingers grasping at the couch, trying to find anything to hold on to as she reveled in pleasure.
He lapped at her clit while his hands grabbed roughly at her thighs, keeping her from squirming too much. Sydney let out a small sob as she tried to push her hips up, whispering Yes like a chant.
She looked at the ceiling as she let out a gasp, but it was cut off as she felt Stewy roughly palm her ass and she felt his tongue leavet her clit.
She whined at the loss but before she could say anything, Stewy tsked at her, “What did I just say? Eyes on me.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” fell from her lips before she could stop herself, desperate to have him touch her again.
“One more chance, or I stop,” he warned her.
Sydney’s lust-filled mind was still coherent enough to say, “I thought you were supposed to make it up to me for being an asshole tonight?”
Stewy chuckled before planting a kiss on top of her clit. “I can always make up for it tomorrow, hm? You were just planning to have a cozy night alone right?”, he asked smugly as he glanced at her coffee table where her glass of wine and opened chip bag were, and across was the television screen paused at a shot of the How I Met Your Mother gang at their bar.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Sydney meant for it to come out a bit more threatening but with how keyed up she was, it came out breathless and whiny.
It made Stewy grin at her like a cheshire cat, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “Then eyes. On. Me.” He punctuated each word by nipping at her inner thighs.
Sydney’s own brown eyes went back to stare at his as he finally dipped his tongue back inside her.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice vibrating against her.
Then as if to reward her, a finger joined his tongue in bringing her closer to the edge. Sydney groaned as she kept her focus on Stewy, her body feeling so fucking tight and suddenly it was so fucking hot, so so so hot.
She was always weak when it came to Stewy, how she’d quickly succumb to his teasing and touches. But fuck she just couldn’t stay away from him and that stupid grin and that stupid voice that reduced her into a mumbling mess.
He started pumping his finger in her faster and Sydney gasped.
His name tumbled out of her mouth as her release came. Even with waves of pleasure rolling through her body, she remembered his words and kept her eyes on him as he continued to bury his face between her legs.
Her breathing was shallow and her skin was flushed as she came down from her high.
Stewy pulled away, leaving open-mouthed kisses on her thighs. “Fuck, love hearing you scream my name like that, baby. Best fucking sound in the world.”
Sydney blushed as she tiredly asked, “Part two isn’t over, right? Cuz I, you know,” she paused to reach for him, pulling him so he hovered above her body.
She rolled her hips up, feeling his hardened cock straining against his pants and fuck he was wearing too many clothes. Too many!
“I still want you inside of me,” she whispered.
She glanced at Stewy’s beard now stained with her juices, before he pressed his lips down to hers and she could taste herself on him.
Stewy fumbled with his dark blue coat before throwing it out of sight. “Baby there is nothing I want more right now than to stick my dick inside you and have you screaming my name again,” he said huskily against her lips.
Sydney moaned, whispering Fuck as he peeled her dress off, revealing more of her rosy skin until she was finally bare before him.
Stewy licked his lips as he eyed her hungrily. “Just look at you, Syd. Fucking gorgeous. God, I would’ve fucked you in the middle of the club.”
She blushed as she pushed herself to sit up. Just thinking about Stewy finger fucking her on the dance floor or under their table has her aching even more for him. How he’d do it so casually too and make sure no one sees them, how he’d whisper dirty things in her ear and she’d have to bite her lip to keep quiet.
She sat in front of him, smoothing her hands over his shoulders before trailing down to the hem of his black shirt. “Too bad you were too busy with those girls by the bar,” she teased, her fingers sliding his shirt up.
Stewy helped her pull it off of him and Sydney’s hands went to his now bare chest, tracing his skin and feeling his muscles rippling under her touch.
He pulled her body towards his and captured her lips for a kiss. Her hands went to wrap around his shoulders and she gasped when he suddenly pushed his hips up. She could feel his erection through his pants and fuck so close, so close.
He was still wearing too many damn clothes.
“Don’t worry baby,” he whispered against her lips before moving down to kiss her jaw. “I promise to give you my full and undivided attention next time.”
She shivered as he started sucking and nipping her neck, part of her delirious over the thought of having him leave marks on her skin for others to see. Who knows, maybe next time she’d go to the bar with him and tie her hair up?
Sydney’s hands found the zipper of his pants. “Or you could just fuck me,” she said.
“That’s going to happen either way,” he said before leaning his head down to kiss her breasts. Sydney was still fumbling with his pants and was finding it extremely hard to focus when Stewy took a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue over it.
How was this man not fucking her yet?
Stewy finally took pity on her and pulled away to help her strip him of his bottoms. He did it quickly, removing his pants and underwear, kicking them off hurriedly along with his shoes.
Sydney unconsciously spread her legs more as she saw his hardened cock. He gave her a shark-like grin, his eyes crinkling up and lighting up like he just secured a multi-million dollar deal. Her ego inflated as she realized he didn’t look at any of the girls like that earlier.
Just at her. A look he gave her and her alone.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and captured his lips in hers for a rough kiss. It was teeth and tongue, his hands squeezing her ass while her fingers curled in his dark tresses.
She may have been the one to initiate that kiss but Stewy quickly took control, and she was more than happy to let him, moaning obscenely as he helped her wrap her legs around his waist and he rubbed his erection against her inner thighs.
He was still fucking teasing her, dangling the pleasure she needed oh so fucking close that she rolled her hips, hoping to feel his cock touch her entrance. But Stewy’s hands kept her still and she almost sobbed, her body hot and aching for him.
“Stewy, please,” she begged unashamedly as she pressed kisses to his face.
Sydney flushed as she saw the dark, hungry lust-filled look in his eyes. Fuck, he was so sexy she was going to cry and how the fuck was he not inside her yet?!
“What do you need?” he whispered huskily and goddammit she really was going to start sobbing now.
“You, baby. I need you. Please.” she tried pushing against him again but Stewy just tsked at her and squeezed her hips.
Then he fucking smirked and placed a chaste kiss on her lips before laying her on the soft cushion as he hovered above her. “You know I can never say no to you, baby."
And he finally finally finally buried himself inside her in one deep stroke, both of them groaning at the contact.
He started rocking inside her, slowly until he picked up in a speed that had Sydney mewling as her fingers dug into his back. He grunted above her and his shallow breaths ghosted her face.
“Didn’t - fuck that’s good,” Stewy breath hitched as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Didn’t think you could get so jealous, baby.”
Sydney rolled her hips against his, matching his rhythm. She gasped breathlessly when one of his hands went to her breasts, pinching a nipple. “You’re - ah fuck, baby yes right there - you’re really loving this, aren’t you?”
He sucked her neck and she was sure marks would form. She was already thinking of visiting him at his work with them on full display.
“The hottest girl I’ve ever met and have the absolute pleasure of fucking getting pissed over a bunch of trustfund airheads trying to flirt with me? Of course I love it,” he said as he started pounding into her faster, both his hands now kneading her breasts.
“Fuck, Syd. You’re so fucking hot and you take me so fucking well,” he said, still nipping her neck and snapping his hips to hers faster. “You’re my only girl, baby, my one and fucking only.”
Sydney moaned, spurred on by his words and his name tumbled from her lips.
He raised his head to press a kiss to her jaw. “Say my name again, baby,” he growled out.
She could feel the heat in her stomach and the waves of pleasure threatening to spill over, stars behind her eyes waiting to burst. “Stewy, Stewy, I’m close, I’m so close,” she mumbled incoherently as her hands threaded into his dark curls.
He started pounding into her rougher and she pulled his head up to capture his lips in hers.
“Just like that. Good girl,” he praised, and fuck she really loved his voice, loved how smooth it was and how it sent shivers down her spine.
Her lips parted and Stewy’s mouth was on hers once more. Sydney was sobbing now, her release so close and Stewy just filled her up so well, so so so fucking well-
She yelled his name when she came, holding him as tight as possible, her nails digging into his back as her walls clenched around him. Stewy placed kisses on her neck, whispering That’s it, that’s my girl, as she came down from her high.
Sydney’s body felt like jello but she kept her arms around Stewy as he remained buried inside her.
He kept pounding into her and Sydney gasped breathlessly, her lips parting.
She took his face in her hands and kissed him, Stewy moaning into her mouth as he started thrusting faster and the sounds of their skin slapping against each other filling the apartment.
His thrusts turned erratic and his grunts heavier. Sydney felt his body shift to move away but she kept him in place as she continued to hold him, one arm around his back and the other cradling his face.
“Cum inside me,” was all she whispered.
Stewy groaned out a Fuck before pushing a few more deep strokes into. He stilled as he spilled inside her, with Sydney pressing kisses on his face as he came down from his own orgasm.
He leaned over her, using his elbows to steady himself as he calmed his breathing.
Then, in a way only Stewy could, he smirked at her, his brown eyes twinkling. “So, forgiven?”, he asked playfully.
Sydney laughed tiredly before pressing a kiss to his nose. “For now,” she teased.
Stewy grinned before pulling away to stand from the couch and find a cloth to clean up with.
He helped Sydney sit up and his cheshire grin was so smug when she scrunched her nose and had to move her legs slowly.
“Oh fuck you,” she said, affection in her voice.
Stewy brushed chestnut brown strands away from her face before kissing her forehead. “Didn’t say anything,” he teased and Sydney couldn’t help but smile.
She knew she shouldn’t have doubted him, that he cared for her just as much as she did him.
The girls all over him earlier on the other hand, yeah they could fuck off.
Stewy sighed tiredly. “Well, I for one am putting on my PJs. Syd, the AC here is too cold someti-”
“Cold!”, Sydney suddenly yelled, her brown eyes widening. Stewy raised one eyebrow up at her as she jumped off the couch and all but ran towards the front door, as naked as the day she was born.
She rummaged through the brown paper bag on the side table for her cheeseburger, which upon closer inspection, was now at room temperature.
How could she forget!
Well ok she wanted to fuck her boyfriend, understandably.
She picked it up like it was the mythical sword in the stone, before making the short trip to the kitchen. She turned to see Stewy putting his boxers back on, a wry smile on his face.
“Thanks for choosing me over the burger, honey,” he joked, making his way over to her, bringing his coat with him.
She popped the delicious burger into the microwave. “Of course. Fortunately for you, you’re sexier. And you know how to fuck.”
Stewy snorted as he hugged her from behind, placing his coat on her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Thank God for that.”
Then they ate together while watching Pacific Rim, with Stewy asking questions every five minutes. Only after the movie did he tell Sydney that he’d already seen it before.
He was lucky he was cute.
#amanda you already know... #i love these two sm #tom has competition... #thank you so much for this 😭🙈 #oc: sydney williams #stewy hosseini #stewy x sydney #nsft #stewy hosseini x oc
No particular reason but Lee Madjoub should show up in Succession s4 as Roman’s friend who is anti- thesis to Stewy Hosseini and the nicest person and definitely no drugs and somehow still taking a shine for Pathetic Mr Kendall Roy and ... all I am getting to it is it makes Stewy become jealous or whatever.