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axwalker · 3 years

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Jealousy--One Shot

Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2. Engagement Tour.

Pairing: Drake Walker x Alexis O’Brien (MC)

WORDS: I’m using my WD golden ticket so 3,000 words.

POV: Dual

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SMUT!! 🍋🍋🍋 A very frustrating Drake and Alexis.

ALL MY FICS ARE +18 !!!!

I’m participating in the @wackydrabbles prompts. This week’s prompt is “I can’t do this anymore.”

I apologize for any grammatical errors.

Tags in the comments ;)

DRAKE

Standing next to my window, I admire the Roman ruins of the Palatine hills as the royal train rolls into Rome. I’ve always loved Italy, but something about this trip is getting to me. It might be the woman occupying the cabin next to mine. It might be the fact that my best friend is almost as crazy about her as I am. Almost. He can’t possibly care for her the way I do. I down the rest of my glass and pick up a simple shirt and a pair of pants for tonight’s banquet. Fuck the black tie.

Since O’Brien came back to court, I tried to avoid her as much as I could. As a result, I’d cut off a leg tonight just to lay eyes on her again. I crave her like a drug. I spent the last few days debating with myself, and each day I grow a little more desperate, my arguments growing wilder and less probable by the minute. “Maybe” is how every single thought began, each one borne of desperation. Maybe I can make Liam understand that I’m crazy about the woman he loves. Maybe he’ll understand that I’ve been lying for months. Maybe Alexis will realize that she wants a quiet life with me. It’s a weakness on my part; I just need to get through this banquet without giving into it.

Thank God there’s a bar. I’m going to need something to make this experience tolerable. I grab a whiskey and drink half of it before I even head to my table. I’m halfway there when my eyes meet Kiara’s. She’s been leaving me flirty messages since we built the barn to celebrate Liam’s engagement. She’s a beautiful and smart woman but I couldn’t be less interested.

“Come with me,” she says, pulling at my elbow. “I saved you a seat.”

At that very moment, Lexie walks in. She’s wearing a red silk dress that matches her lips, pours over her curves, and reveals only a hint of cleavage while allowing you to imagine what you can’t see too fucking easily. Her hair falls over her shoulders and down her back, highlighting her long neck and her gorgeous face. As always, I seem to settle on her mouth. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen her wear red lipstick before, and, for some reason, this opens an entire box of fantasies. I want to see it soiled. To kiss her so hard that neither of us can breathe. To pull back and find that mouth ajar, panting, the lipstick a red blur around the edges., I want it so badly I’m not sure how I’ll get through the goddamn night without having it. My hands sliding that silk dress over her head, learning every inch of her the way I’ve dreamed about for months. Except right now, Lexie’s eyes are fixed on the point where Kiara’s arm is linked with mine, and her expression—sad and wounded—is like a knife to my chest. I step away from Kiara, grabbing my drink and draining it. “I’m sitting with Maxwell and Olivia,” I tell her firmly.

“Doesn’t Lexie look gorgeous?” Max asks. My eyes move across the room again. Her red dress shimmers, sticks on her curves. `

“She looks like she needs more clothes,” I complain.

“Olivia helped her choose that dress,” Max says with a brow arched. “It fits her like a glove.”

“Yeah,” I reply. “That’s sort of the problem.”

My gaze is still on her, though. Moving up from her hips to her waist to her breasts, back up to that mouth of hers. I picture it again; the lipstick smeared, her breathless under me. And then a single hand cups her hip bone, visible through the thin silk, and I’m ejected from my fantasy at high speed. My lust transforms into rage in a single breath. Fucking Signore Francesco Lombardi. When everyone finally takes their seats, I discover that she and Francesco are at the table on the other side of mine, giving me a painfully direct view of the two of them. Whenever she stands, his eyes are on her, devouring her. He paws at her when she returns, jumping to pull out her chair but managing to get his fucking hands over approximately sixty percent of her body when he does it. And if he tries to look down her dress one more time, I’m definitely taking him out. I don’t give a fuck about our diplomatic relationships with Italy. I go to the bar again and ask for another glass of Macallan. Tonight it’s either get drunk or completely lose my shit in front of hundreds of witnesses. Pretentious food and great speeches are given out that I don’t notice. She is more real to me than anything in this room or out of it, the only thing I can see. No one knows her fears like I do. No one knows how fragile she really is, how deeply sweet. How funny and smart and kind. But I know. And for all the fighting we’ve done, there aren’t two people in this room as made for each other as the two of us. My world is constructed entirely of rules about what I owe Liam –my education, my career, and so many other things. But somehow, it excludes the only thing that matters to me. Her. If it weren’t for how Liam feels about her, she’d be here with me tonight. I watch her say something to Liam, and he nods, his eyes telling her how he feels. Jealousy runs through my veins.

“Enough,” I say quietly as I stand. I don’t know what possesses me to follow her. I know, with every bone in my body, that I have no claim on her. But I saw that look in Liam’s eyes, the one that says he’ll do anything for her, and I found myself on my feet. She’s halfway down the hall by the time I reach her. She looks over her shoulder warily when she hears me, but she is too late. I’m already there. I grab her elbow before she has time to react and pull her into an empty office. She stiffens and pulls back, ready as always to fight. Eyes flashing and hands on her hips. Seething before I’ve even said a word. “You have no right to—” That’s when I cup her jaw and capture that mouth I’ve longed for the whole goddamn night.

ALEXIS

His mouth comes down on mine, demolishing my pathetic attempt to object. He seizes it thoroughly, with such certainty, as if he’s spent his entire life practicing for this precise moment. His hands raking back through my hair, his tongue finding mine as he presses against me. His mouth moves over my neck, and he groans, a noise of both despair and satisfaction.

“You didn’t want me a week ago, but now you do?” I start to push back, but he holds me tight against him.

“I just don’t want you stuck in a shitty ranch with a poor veterinarian when it all ends. It was never about not wanting you.” I know there are other reasons why I’m supposed to object, but they escape me. I’ve wanted this too long, his hands on my body, my skin pressed against his, and his mouth creating a trail of kisses down my neck. It’s right. I’ve known nothing in my life with such certainty as the fact that nothing in the world matters more to me. His hands move from my hips to my breasts, and then he pulls one strap of my dress down, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses over my shoulder and collarbone, almost reverently. Nipping with his teeth and soothing it with his tongue. He pulls the dress down to my waist, unclasps my bra with a single hand. He cups my breasts, bringing his mouth to them in the same way, sharp and sweet at once and creating a need in me so intense that it borders on pain. I gasp and arch toward him, submitting entirely as my head falls backward against the wall. He pulls back just enough to see my face. His chocolate eyes are dark now as he searches mine, looking there for something he desperately needs. Permission. He wants permission. As if I’d ever tell him no.

“Yes,” I whisper. “Please.”

“You’re sure?” His voice is gruff with desire. And when I nod, he pushes the dress over my hips and allows it to slide to the floor. His hands follow, skating over my hips, down my thighs, and I stand before him now in nothing but panties and heels. “That fucking dress nearly killed me,” he says, smoothing my skin as he kisses me again. He pushes against me, his shirt against my bare skin, his erection pressed hard to my stomach, a quick pulse there as if he is desperate for friction. He slides his index finger under the elastic of my panties. The moment he touches me, my whole body jolts.

“Fuck,” he hisses, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. “You’re already soaked.” His finger slips back and forth, lightly, in torturous circles before it pushes inside me.

“Oh God,” I whisper, my body bowing toward him. He adds a second finger, and this time his groan is louder than mine.

“Jesus, Lex,” he growls. “You’re going to be the end of me.”

I unclasp his belt and unzip his pants reaching down to pull him from the confines of his boxers. He is thick and heavy in my hands, hissing as my fingers wrap around him, tugging gently.

“Stop,” he exhales after a minute. “I’m not gonna last if you do that, and there are so many things I want to do to you first.”

He pushes my panties down and lifts me up almost simultaneously, turning to deposit me on the table behind us. He kisses me once, hard. “Lie back,” he commands. He drops to his knees, spreading my legs so I’m displayed before him. Suddenly, his fingers are joined by quick swipes of his tongue.

“Oh my God,” I gasp. “Drake … just—”

His mouth and tongue lick and brush and pull, creating flames that begin there and spread all the way to my toes. I try to move, but his free hand clamps down on my thigh, holding me in place.

“I’ve dreamed about doing this every goddamn night for months, Alexis. So let me.”

I can’t even nod in agreement because suddenly, everything inside me is building so quickly that I can’t tell where I am or where I’m going.

“Oh,” I gasp. And then his fingers push inside me and I explode with a cry of ecstasy and surprise, arching against his mouth. He doesn’t pull back, but instead slides his hands beneath my legs and tugs me closer, buries his face to create wave after wave of something I never thought would happen in the first place.

“Holy shit,” I breathe. He leans over to kiss me and when he does, I wrap my legs around his waist, bringing him against me so suddenly that he gasps in my mouth.

“Lexie,” he groans.

“Please,” I whisper. It seems impossible for anyone to be more satisfied than I am now, yet I still need the very thing Drake wants most, the thing he is so sure he shouldn’t give. He looks tortured and pulls back, but I tighten around him, pressing him against me. “Don’t even think about stopping right now.” He shifts his hips just enough that he is pressing right there, not inside me but mere seconds away from it. In a single pulse, he could be buried deep inside me.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice tight. “Do we need …”

“No,” I beg. “Just do it. I’m on the pill.”

He pushes in, barely. He’s so thick that already I’m stretched to the point of pain.

“Oh fuck, Lexie,” he whispers. “God, that’s so good. Just give me a minute, or this is going to be over before it starts.”

Finally, he moves once more, going slowly, a low noise deep in his chest as he finally shoves all the way in.

“Are you okay?” he asks between clenched teeth. I nod as I adjust to the size of him, pain still outweighing the pleasure. It’s when he starts to withdraw that the pain recedes as a burst of pleasure sucks the air from my lungs. It feels too good, something so vast and all-consuming it can’t possibly end well. I never finish this way but oh my God… If it were ever going to happen, it would be now. His next thrust is faster, more certain, but he stops entirely at my sharp inhale. “Did I hurt you, baby?” he asks.

“No.” He didn’t hurt me. He stunned me. His strokes come slow and rhythmic then, as he leans over, finding my mouth with the table bracing his weight, his arms taut. “I’ve wanted this for so fucking long,” he says, holding still inside me.

“Keep going,” I beg. “Don’t stop.”

“Patience,” he grins. “You have no idea how hard it is not to come right now.”

I grab his ass and push upward, ignoring his warning, thrilling at the low grunt he makes. “Alexis,” he growls, “goddammit.”

His hips jerk back and then forward, almost involuntarily. It’s all I need. I cry out as it happens again, everything inside me bursting. He thrusts quick and hard, desperate now, and then stiffens with a single guttural noise as he pushes in one final time. He falls against me, his mouth against my neck, his breath warm on my skin. It’s closer than I’ve ever been to another person, and I would like to stay here, just like this, forever. But after a moment, I open my eyes when I realize what we’ve done.

It’s a little like waking from a dream. What the fuck have I done? The best sex I’ve ever had and the biggest mistake I’ve ever made just occurred simultaneously. The guilt and astonishment collide with each other. It was wrong. No matter what other considerations there are, I just slept with Liam’s best friend.

I know I don’t owe Liam anything. I came to Cordonia to see if there was something between us beyond that kiss in New York, and there wasn’t. He’s engaged to Madeleine and I’m hopelessly in love with his best friend. Bu this isn’t about me. This is about Drake.

I just became that woman. The kind of woman that would stand between two brothers. The type of woman capable of breaking a lifelong friendship in a moment of lust.

I know that sooner or later, Drake will resent me, us, if he loses Liam. Somewhere inside, I knew that, but because I wanted him and was jealous of Kiara, I chose to ignore it. He looks up at me, and his smile fades.

“What are you thinking?” he asks. There’s dread in his voice. His jaw hardens. “You regret it.”

“Drake,” I sigh, nestling in his chest. “It’s not that. It was…amazing. I just need to figure this out.”

“Figure what out?”

I bury my face in his neck. I don’t want to be having this conversation with him. I wish there was a way he could just hold me and take me to his cabin and work this all out on my own later. But there’s not. “What happens next. I mean, it shouldn’t have happened. We both know that. Liam… “

“No,” he snaps, pulling away. “Do not bring him up. Are you really going to let the way it might look to everyone outside this room dictate whether or not it’s okay? This is about us, Lexie. No one else.”

Except it’s not everyone outside this room. It’s him. Until a week ago, Drake was determined to push me away. He didn’t want to betray his best friend. He told me over and over again that he wasn’t that kind of man. That he would never forgive himself.

I let my need obliterate every reasonable thought, as usual. And in doing so, I’ve let myself down and—far worse—I may have put Drake’s friendship with Liam at risk. I pull away and grab my dress and bra off the floor.

“We have to get back out there before someone notices we’re gone.”

He buttons his shirt. “So you want to go back and continue flirting with Liam like this didn’t just happen?” he asks.

It’s right then, at that precise moment, that I realize that no matter what happens, Drake and I will never be together. Liam will always be there, between us. Right now, in our post-orgasmic bliss, Drake is not thinking straight, but I know what he will be telling me tomorrow morning. Or at least how he will be feeling. Guilty.

“I can’t do this anymore.” I take a deep breath to calm myself. “So what matters most is that we both get through the banquet like nothing happened.”

“And then what?” He growls.

His anger doesn’t scare me. “Can we please just get through the next hour?” I ask. “Liam is out there. Olivia, Max, Kiara are out there. The most important thing either of us can do right now is to act like nothing’s wrong.”

He fastens his belt and moves to the door, his jaw rigid. He’s doing what I asked, but I hate that he’s leaving mad. I’m doing this for him. I don’t want him to lose the only relationship in his life that matters to him. “Drake, wait—”

“For what?” he demands. “I just fucked you on a table, and now you’re sending me on my way. What more could you possibly need to add to that?” With those parting words, he crosses the door and walks out, leaving me heartbroken.

#axwalker writes #drake walker #drake walker x mc #drake x mc #trr fanfic #drake x lexie #n*sfw #🍋🍋🍋#trr fanfiction

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raebayhc · 3 years

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Girls Night Out

PART TWO!!!

warnings: smut, oral sex (f), fingering, public sex acts, car sex, use of alcohol, manipulation

word count: 2070

summary: you along with your groups of friends decide to have a girls' night for the first time in a while, things get heated and your friends end up taking turns using your body.

series: part 1 (more parts to come)

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Finally making your way through the crowd you make it back to the group of girls who had already begun to drink. Mikasa’s hand finds purchase on your waist as she pulls you closer to hand you a drink “it’s fruity, you’ll like it” Mikasa knew you weren’t a heavy drinker but when you did drink you preferred fruitier things, you giggled at the thought of her ordering something so girly with the sole intent on giving it to you. You happily took the drink from her hand giving her a warm smile, taking a sip she watches your reaction as your face lights up “holy shit mik- this is awesome” she takes a sip of her rich colored drink “let me taste” you obliged as you held your glass up for her, she goes to hand you her drink but you decline “no thanks, that stuff tastes like rat poison.. I’m better off with my drink from paradise” you laugh, she lets out a small chuckle at your cuteness “just try it y/n I promise it’s not that bad”.. “Ughhhhhh fiiiiiine only because it’s you mik” you reply hesitantly. You both lift your drinks to the mouth of the other, not breaking eye contact you take a sip, and as does she, almost as if it was planned yall both swallow squint grunt then let out a small cough a visual representation of how yall felt about each other’s drinks “how do you drink this shit?? Bleh” Mikasa spits out “it’s better than the jet fuel you have in this glass” you shiver out.

The night goes on and all of the ladies are around the bar talking, yall somehow landed on your childhood and how yall used to run around outside all day and play in the woods behind your neighborhood. Mikasa continues to tell the story of how yall have matching scars on the same place at the top of your inner thigh from when yall collided bikes one time as if she needed proof she lifted your skirt to look at the scar, a reminder maybe, “see! Told yall it really happened and I have the same exact one too!” she lets your skirt back down and the girls disperse throughout the building, some dancing, some talking to guys for potential hookups. You and mik still at the bar talking. She cuts your sentence short “wait actually let me see your scar again I think it shrunk” without getting confirmation from you she lifts your skirt and underestimating the length it would take for her to reach the scar she overshot and instead of rubbing the scar she rubs the thigh right against one of your folds, a small whimper falls out of your throat, you didn’t mean to let it out it just kind of happened. Your stomach drops, her eyes dart up to your face, a deep blush forming that you can’t control. She cocks an eyebrow at you and slowly begins to move her hand up closer and closer to your sex, your grip on the bar counter becoming tighter “mik what the fuck are you doing” you spit out through gritted teeth. “I haven’t stopped thinking about earlier… yah know when we basically kissed in the theatre, I haven’t gotten you out of my mind since.” her words lit a flame in you, not only because of how seductive they were but because you were definitely attracted to her, you always have been but you would never dare to speak on it.

“I’ve kept this to myself for far too long don’t you think?” she asks, not able to push out any words fearing you would instead release a moan you nod, your eyebrows scrunched on your forehead, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, eyes glossy, nipples erect and visible through your thin shirt….. She couldn’t help herself. Slipping a finger into your underwear she groans at how wet you already are “all this… for me baby?” she purrs into your ear. “Mik…. we’re at a bar, there are people everywhere… please..” you whine out, she replies with a simple “trust me”, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to face her she grabs her drink opens your mouth and pours it in “spit it out or swallow it and you’ll regret it” you wince and nod your head obediently “good girl” she purrs.

Now basically crumbling under her touch your thighs are shaky, breathing erratic as you can only breath through your nose due to the rich liquid sheltered in your mouth. She positions her fingers to shape a gun, she then points her ‘hand gun’ at you and ‘pulls the trigger’ taking that same position she pushes into you, knowing you would react to this she lets out a loud cough to cover your moan, thank goodness she did. You’re vocal she likes that. Now pushing in and out of you she takes her left hand and grabs your neck then pulls you to kiss, her tongue prodding at your lips signaling you to open for her, the deep liquid flows into her mouth dripping down your chins, she swallows the liquid but remains in contact with your face against her occasionally biting or sucking on your lip. You knew there were definitely going to be marks later but you didn’t care, this was pure bliss and just the thought of Mikasa getting aroused by this was enough to send you over the edge, your vision gone blurry, your body shaking, reaching your climax. You droop your head down breathing heavy, worried she had crossed a line Mikasa lifted your head only to see a blissful fucked out expression, eyes hazy, drool falling down your chin, your mouth in a slight smirk, tears threatening to fall. “Oh, shit” she mumbles now fully aware of the effect you have on her.

Removing her fingers from under your skirt she dips her fingers in your drinks and encourages you to take them in your mouth which you do without a fight, a low groan escapes your lips as you taste the sweet and salty mixture of your juices, her sweat, and your ‘drink from paradise’ on her digits. Pulling her fingers out with a loud ‘pop’ she pulls a napkin from under her drink and wipes them off. Still recovering from the previous climax you sit there catching your breath, Mikasa’s hand finds its way to the small of your back, she leans into your neck giving you small pecks then comes up to your ear and nibbles on it a bit “.... y’know… there’s so much more I want to do to you.. Bee.” your skin shivers at the name she had given you when yall were in the sixth grade after you got chased by a bee into a creek, you hadn’t heard it in years… she really was something.

You only had one drink so you were nowhere near tipsy, sober as can be….. Unfortunately that cant be said for some of the other ladies. Ymir, Sasha, and Hitch were all out of it fortunately enough you, mikasa, and historia were all sober so yall could drive, you decide to take responsibility for hitch and drive her to the barn. You put her arm around your shoulder “shit. Why the fuck are you so heavy hitch, youre tiny” you spit out struggling to support her weight on you as you walk her to the car “h- hey-*hiccup* hey. Im not heavy I just had done a cartwheel sometimes earlier when she asked me to”. Yup. she’s out of if you think, you’re on the road and on the way to Sasha’s family barn when hitch yells at you to pull into an empty parking lot so she can get air a possibly throw up. Y’know the basic drunk shenanigans. You pull over to what seems to be a deserted parking lot with a raccoon and some dead bushes “okay hitch hurry up” “yeah yeah I’m going I’m going” she seems to have sobered up a bit.. *click* the passenger door opens and the car lights come on “hurry up they’re wai-” you’re cut off by the image in front of you. Wearing nothing but her underwear hitch had removed all of her clothing including her bra revealing her numerous piercings including a belly button and nipple piercings, not only that but she had one hand down her panties moving around doing what you assume is masturbating and her other hand squeezing her nipple “mmph please..please.. Help me will you pretty girl?” butterflies filled your stomach “what’re you-”

Hitch climbs halfway in with her hand on the middle console and one of her knees on the passenger seat, grabbing the collar of your shirt she pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, your grip on the wheel loosens as you lose yourself in the kiss, not only that but you notice she doesn’t taste of alcohol, not even the slightest bit. In fact, you remember about a month ago when she said she was gonna stop drinking and when yall were in the club you only saw her with cans of soda when you did happen to catch a peek of her.. Was she- “faking?” your thoughts cut off by her sudden comment “you know you’re really easy to read y/n, I can tell what’s going on in that pretty little brain of yours honey.” “so were you? Faking I mean.” you say in a confused tone as if you were trying to piece it all together yourself “yeahhhhh sorry but I had to get you alone somehow, don’t think I didn’t notice how Mikasa and historia were all over you tonight, it wasn’t rocket science to figure out they probably fucked you..and to be honest I’ve thought about us together. So please… have me?” she takes your hand and shoves it down her panties, black and lacey, you retract your hand and look at her without saying anything. Worried she might have done something wrong she begins “oh my god I got the wrong idea y/n I’m so so sor-” “get in the back” you cut her off.

Climbing in the back she waits on instructions from you, you join her in the back. You position yourself on top of her laying her head on the back door, you scan over her helpless body so small and fragile under your touch, starting by kissing her breasts leaving marks on the sides of them you move down to her torso. Giving sweet and soft kisses occasionally leaving a hickey or two, you make it down to her covered pussy, kissing above the lacey garment you tease her. “Please y/n please please please I can’t” she begs “I got it I got it” you pull her underwear to the side she releases a sigh of relief not long after followed a scream of pleasure as you plunge your face into her sex, lapping up whatever juices are flowing and gently sucking on the bundle of nerves at the top. “N-not so.. fast y/n... I won’t… I won’t last!!” she manages out through broken whimpers and cries, which only encourages you to break her even more, make her cry out an orgasm, make her the best little pet you could ask for. You stick a ring and middle finger inside of her while your mouth focuses on her clit, not that pushes her over the edge. Her mind blanks and all she can see is white, you speed up to enhance her orgasm, you’re then met with the strong bursts of fluid that fall from her. “She’s a squirter huh” you think to yourself hungrily lapping up as many juices as possible, “mmhmm y/n y/n y/n ahh please you’re so-” her body twitches “you’re so amazing mmm”. You remove your fingers and place her panties back where they belong, sitting up adoring her aroused figure you spit out “you think you’d top me huh?” followed by a cheeky grin and a condescending giggle.

The car lights up and a ring echoes “Ymir” flashes on the dashboard “incoming call”...

THE EEENNNDDD pt.2

AHHHHHH IM SO OVERWHELMED BY THE POSITIVITY AND LOVELY FEEDBACK I LOVE YALL AWHHHH!!! I will continue to write and upload for this series!! Thank you for the patience *muah*

#aot #fanfic #smut #female reader #aot women #mikasa #historia #ymir #hitch #pieck #sasha #attack of titan smut

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storiesbymads · 3 years

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GIVE IT UP ( tyson jost . )

You find yourself at your ex’s house party despite the fact that you’ve pretty much convinced him and yourself that you hate him. Apparently, he’s not that fond of you either. At least, that’s what he wants you to think.

warnings: smut, hate sex, unprotected sex

wc: 2.6k

add yourself to my taglist + masterlist

It was shocking of how quickly the sweet boy who once would’ve done anything to see you smile turned into the man before you that managed to get a rise out of you without even directly speaking to you.

Granted, most of that was your fault. All he’d wanted was a break, a few weeks, maybe a month apart to think things over. You’d been the one to suggest a full breakup.

“Tys-“ you stopped yourself. “Tyson.”

His pacing stalled, the hand that had been furiously running through his curls fell to rest on his hip as he turned to face where you were sitting on the couch. The couch you’d helped him pick out when he’d first moved into this apartment. The one he’d first kissed you on three years ago, though it was a bit more beat up now than it had been then. It was a faded blue in color now.

“What,” he halfway snapped. The tone of his voice caused you to flinch at his words, which almost sent Tyson into a deeper downward spiral had he not been so desperate to get through this evening without you killing each other.

“You know this isn’t working,” you said. “Not like it used to.”

“Then why are you fighting with me about taking a few weeks to figure things out,” he sighed before moving to sit on the matching ottoman in front of you.

“Please don’t make me say it out loud,” you said. Your jaw was trembling as you didn’t know how much longer you could keep looking him in the eye without breaking down.

Tyson’s hands were quick to start rubbing his eyes, almost painfully so as the heels of them dug in.

“You don’t mean it,” he whispered.

“Tyson.”

“I still love you,” he sighed.

“We had a great run, yeah?” you smiled sadly at him as you picked yourself up off the couch. “I’ll be back to get my things in the next week or so.”

And that probably would’ve been the end of it had Andre not been your best friend. He was, and he claimed, the best guy in your life before Tyson and he was going to stay that way after Tyson.

Sure, parties were awkward but it was nothing you couldn’t get through without a couple girl friends and some distance. And a handle of pink whitney.

“You’re kidding!” you gasped as your old college roommate gushed about her new boyfriend and their bedroom antics. “There’s no way you let him do that!”

“Long time no see, sunshine,” a familiar brown haired swede said as he pulled you into his side by the hip. You could tell the drink in his hand was far from his first based on the slur of his words and the way the snapback was situated sideways on his head.

“Hey, Dre,” you said before pecking his cheek quickly and sipping on the drink in your own hand. Contrary to your usual party behavior, you were only about half of the way through your first.

“Yeah, sunshine,” you heard Tyson say from behind you. The smile on your face wiped away into a scowl within seconds. “Long time no see.”

You opted to ignore him, continuing your conversation with your roommate, Savannah, as Andre left your side to join the beer pong game in the corner.

“Aw, c’mon. It’s not my fault you’re desperate enough to come to your ex’s house party,” he mocked as he shuffled his way closer to you.

“Aw, it’s not my fault your other eye’s just begging for a matching shiner,” you cooed. You could feel his breath against your pulse point as he leaned in closer.

“Think you have it in you?” he asked, voice grovely as it dropped an octave. Scoffing, you pushed away from him in search of anyone else to talk to. You couldn’t stand the fact that he was still able to jump start your heart rate after all these years, especially after all the things he’s said to you after you’d broken up.

You shouldn’t even be going to this part. You wouldn’t be had Andre not literally dragged you into his car with a promise that you wouldn’t even see Tyson, let alone have to speak to him.

“You haven’t been out in months, sunshine,” he said as he pulled out of your apartment complex. “We miss you.”

“You missed me,” you sighed, pulling your head up from where it was resting against the cool glass of the window.

“The team misses you,” he said, temporarily taking his hand off the wheel to pinch your hip. The team minus Tyson, you thought.

The party itself was fine for a while. You’d practically attached yourself to Andre’s side, not that he was complaining. He was just glad to have you in a social situation again. You were actually having fun for the first time in a while playing flip cup with some of the guys. Tyson had practically slipped your mind, another first.

Until he decided to, rather harshly, drag you away from the table.

“What are you doing here?” he rushed out as he clicked the lock on the bathroom door.

“Dre- Andre invited me,” you stuttered. The party was still going strong outside the room and you could feel the bass through the floor.

“God, I haven’t seen you in months and you’re here because my teammate invited you?” he scoffed. The shock in his eyes had since shifted to something more of disgust.

“We broke up, Tyson,” you said.

“Exactly! We broke up!” he said, throwing his hand up in the air. Your eyes stayed glued to the lock behind him.

“I didn’t come here to see you,” you said, though it came out more like a whimper. You swore you saw something crack in Tyson’s eyes before his resolve went back up.

“That’s rich, even coming from you.”

“God, you’re such a dick, Jost,” you pushed past him, wiping a tear away before it had the chance to fall as you unlocked the bathroom door.

You hated him. You hated him.

Thankfully the kitchen was empty when you found yourself there. You weren’t looking for anything, your cup was still mostly full.

How was Tyson always able to find you in a crowd? Even when you were actively avoiding him like the plague, he somehow managed to sneak up behind you and send your head into a downward spiral.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing thinking so much at a party,” an unfamiliar voice said from beside you, pulling you from your daze.

“I’m not-“ you cut yourself off. “It’s just…”

“Whoa, don’t burst a blood vessel,” he smiled at you. His comment was awkward at best, but the soft look in his eyes made up for it. He was cute.

“Sorry,” you chuckled. “I’m Y/N.”

“Jason,” he responded, clinking your red cups together in a fake toast.

Jason, you learned, was a bartender at the Star Bar in downtown Denver. Though, that was a temporary job as he worked on his masters in biochemistry. You ended up telling him a story about the time you found yourself being escorted out of said Star Bar from dancing on the bar.

“If you’ll excuse me, I really have to go to the ladie’s room,” you said, starting to walk past him in the now crowded kitchen before turning back to face the blond. “Would you mind holding my drink?”

“Sure,” Jason said, even going as far as putting his own drink down so that he could cover the top of yours fully with his hand. Maybe this party hadn’t gone completely to shit.

The line to the bathroom was nonexistent and you’d managed to finish your business in record time. You checked your appearance in the mirror before clicking the lock on the bathroom door and opening it to see the one person you really wished you hadn’t.

He pushed his way through, slamming the door and locking it behind him.

“What are you doing, Jost? Let me out,” you said.

“You really think you can come here and flirt with some random guy in my kitchen?” he scoffed. With every word he took another half step closer to you until your back was pressed against the far wall.

“What do you mean your kitchen?”

“Did Dre not tell you? Can’t believe this is the fourth time you’ve been here and you didn’t even know who’s apartment it was. I think that’s a little rude, if you ask me,” he cooed. Four times; he was counting. He’d made a mental note every time you’d been sitting on his couch and he’d been too fucked up about it to do anything.

His knee pushed your thighs apart as his hands found solace on the wall beside your head. You felt the sudden urge to spit in his face. Or to let him spit in yours.

This was much more possessive than he’d ever acted when you were together. Granted, he hasn’t acted the same way he’d been when you were together in the year and a half you’d been apart.

“Answer me,” he hummed. “It’s rude isn’t it.”

You tilted your head to the side in response only for Tyson’s thigh to press up further so that it was resting against your core. You took the sudden close proximity between the two of you to gauge the changes in his features. Most obviously was the beard he was sporting now, he’d never been able to accomplish more than a patch here or there while you were dating despite his best efforts. His shoulders were more filled out now, too, and his curls looked longer. He looked more… mature, if that was the word for it.

“Answer me,” he tutted. “Or am I gonna have to fuck it out of you?”

“You’re a lot bolder than I remember, Jost,” you gasped. There was a definite wet spot growing in your underwear at the rasp in his tone.

“You’re just as annoying,” he said before one of his hands found your hip. His mouth came crashing against yours an instant later, a rough mess of teeth clanging together as he popped the button on your jean shorts. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m sure I’ll fuck that out of you, too.”

The comment caused a gasp to slip past your lips as he removed his knee so that he could tug your bottoms to your ankles in one fell swoop. His fingers were quick in replacing the delicious pressure against your clit, circling the nub with the pad of his finger.

“Do you still make those pretty little noises you used to make?” he asked, only to pull a whimper out of you not even a second later when he slipped a finger into your hole.

“You’re still a dick,” you moaned as you dropped your head to rest against his shoulder. You bit down on the cotton of his t-shirt to conceal the whimper of emptiness as Tyson slipped his finger out of you so that he could push the band of his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to slip out.

“Yeah? And you’re about to cum all over it.”

The string of profanities that followed from your part were involuntary.

He pushed into you slowly until he was halfway in before snapping his hips forward in one quick motion so that your pelvic bones were pressed together. You hadn’t felt this full since… Well, since him.

“Fucking-“ he hissed. “I forgot how tight you were.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he started thrusting his hips. You would’ve been able to admire it longer had your eyes not rolled into the back of your head. Your hand slipped down between your bodies to rub your clit only to be swatted away and replaced by Tyson’s a moment later.

His name rolled off your tongue like a chant as you felt your orgasm building with each pump of his hips.

“I’m gonna cum, holy shit,” you said.

“That’s right, baby. Cum all over my cock,” he said. The rhythm of his thrusts was getting sloppier by the second and you could tell he was getting close. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where do you want it?”

“What?” you asked, head still very hazy from the impending orgasm.

“I can’t cum inside you—shit,” his thrusts slowed. “Where do you want it?”

“I’m on the pill,” you rushed out in hopes that he’d start fucking you again. The thought alone almost had him falling apart.

“Holy shit, ok,” he mumbled before picking up his thrusts once again. It was a step the two of you hadn’t taken before, and he was dying to see his cum drip out of you.

“Fuck, Tys,” the words came out rushed as your high washed over you. Tyson came soon after as ropes of it coated your walls in hot spurts.

Your senses came back to you as you came back down. What the fuck were you doing? Why did you allow yourself to hook up with the ex you were still pretty sure you hated in a bathroom.

“I-I’ve gotta go,” you said, pushing Tyson off, and subsequently out, of you so that you could pull up your shorts and button them.

“Wait, Y/N,” the flustered, blushing Tyson you thought you’d never see again made an appearance as you threw the bathroom door open just as he tucked himself back into his boxers. The fly of his blue jeans was undone as he chased you out of the bathroom, practically begging you to stop as he followed you out the front door.

“Leave me alone, Jost,” you scoffed as you watched him zip his pants out of the corner of your eye.

“There’s no way you’re gonna go back to hating me after that,” he said. You could feel his cum dripping into your panties as he spoke.

“We made our decision last year. We should’ve left it at that,” you shivered in the open exterior of his apartment complex, silently cursing yourself for thinking a jacket would ruin your outfit.

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” a dry chuckle slipped from his lips. “After all of that? After a year and a half of pretending, you can’t admit it?”

“I wasn’t pretending-“

“Like hell you weren’t. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret even mentioning the idea of a break between us. What we had doesn‘t just go away,” he took a step towards you. You could still hear the music from inside his place, though it was fainter now and still half-muffled by the various conversations just past the front door.

“We weren’t working out,” you said, though it came out as more of a squeak.

“You and I both know we could’ve worked on it. We were stupid to let what we had go over nothing,” he said. “I miss you.”

Your resolve was breaking more with every word.

“Jost, what if this doesn’t work?” you asked, allowing him to get close enough to take your hand in his. It was quite the contrast to the way he’d been with you not even ten minutes ago.

“Would you stop calling me that?” his features were screwed tight as he asked. “You only call me that when you’re mad at me.”

“Tyson,” you said, only to be greeted with a knowing look in his brown eyes. “Tys.”

“We’re gonna work out,” he said. “We’re gonna work out because…”

“Because?”

“Because I still love you. And I’m not letting you go again,” his voice had lowered to a whisper and it shook and his forehead was dangerously close to resting against yours. Within the span of an hour, he’d transformed back into the shy boy you’d given your heart to three years ago on his blue couch.

“Ok,” you whispered back, closing the distance and resting your foreheads against each other only for Tyson to bridge the gap completely with a tilted head to plant his lips against your own.

tagged @ptersparkers @annedub @corebore123 @damndunner @kiedhara @watermelon05 @sidscrosbyy @thelionkingpw @besthockeyfics @iwantahockeyhimbo @beauvibaby

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost smut #tyson jost x reader #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl smut #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey smut

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fukurodaze · 4 years

Text

october

pairing: third year!tsukishima kei x third year!fem!reader genre: fluff, suggestive word count: 2.7k warnings: cursing, mentions of hickeys, makeout session hehe synopsis: “tsukishima” and “high school sweetheart” are a unique combination of words

LISTEN TO: lowkey - niki; used to you - mxmtoon

lowercase intended!

nobody knows about this.

nobody knows about his offhand banter and longing gazes. if you and kei go back exactly five months from today, you’d be asking him a question about the research assignment as you were about to leave the library and he surprisingly follows his answer up with “i’m going home too. come with?”

nobody knows him on facetime, staying late until his eyes can barely open after a blink. you’re used to his texts, somehow so much funnier and warmer than everyone seems to know him. and maybe one day he’d kissed you; on the right temple, as you fell asleep on your bed; on the back of your shoulder, when he did it subconsciously during a movie. and maybe you kissed him too; a short peck on the lips when he went home through your front door; another on his calloused and bandaged hands after a block had left it bruised.

nobody knows that now, you’re straddling the boy you’ve known for a while as you suck his tongue until he gets breathless. his hands roam up and down your body, finding themselves under your shirt and holding onto the bare skin of your waist like he can never let go. when he tugs on the hem of your shirt, bunching it up your torso, you let him take it off, the moment away from his lips making you realise his lips are swollen and his glasses have been thrown somewhere on your bed. you freeze for a bit when he spends a little too long staring at your body, and you freeze even more when you realise you’re not wearing the bra you would’ve liked for this occasion, but you’re cut off when he starts nipping on your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses as he mumbles, “you don’t have to suck in your stomach.”

you relax a little, small whimpers coming out of your mouth as he continues to work on your neck, the little shocks of pleasure filling your senses as hands on bare skin start to feel more familiar than foreign. you could get used to this.

“wait, don’t leave any, uh, marks or hickeys or whatever,” you breathe, “people might see.”

he hums, and yet his grip on you tightens as you think he’s coming back to your lips, but he doesn’t. he just stops there, face inches away as his lips barely ghost yours. he purses his lips for a second, like he’s thinking of something to say, but the microwave makes its strange appearance when it beeps loud enough to make you jump a little in his lap. he still holds you close.

so, so close. and nobody else knows.

“i’ll get the popcorn.” right, because tonight you had planned to watch a movie with him. like the usual - talk, cuddle, whatever.

come to think of it, your relationship with kei sounds weird; feelings so well understood without ever being spoken. you liked it at first, when he told you he liked you on a saturday morning, your reciprocated feelings tasting of warm rice and milky eggs and an unspoken convention that this stayed between you two and you two only. but as the days passed, and the thrill of a secret relationship wore off, you’ve started to wonder how it would feel like to be able to show people that, yes, tsukishima kei is your boyfriend, and yes, you like him very much.

when you take your shirt, he says, “wear my hoodie. it’s cold.”

you grin when you hear that, opting to simply wear his hoodie without a shirt underneath. it’s the same black hoodie he wears literally all the time and probably doesn’t wash regularly (which is gross) but if there’s one thing you learned about these feelings is that you couldn’t care less.

when you pick up the popcorn, kei only lays against the headboard of your bed, feeling slightly empty at the words he’d heard from you. serves him right, he thinks as he picks his glasses back up; this relationship, or whatever it is, isn’t something both of you wanted everyone to know. he’d get sick of all the attention, and there was probably no need for the two of you to share everything. it’s high school anyways, who knows how long it’s going to last.

yet, when you come back into his room, lips soft and hair tousled, holding a bowl of fragrant popcorn, kei finds himself letting go of those thoughts.

you take a seat on the floor against your bed frame, already having set up the laptop in the middle of the floor. you motion to the boy on the bed to come down, and he brings your entire duvet with him.

as he settles next to you, your shoulder touching his upper arm, you set the popcorn in the space where your knee meets his thigh, over the blanket. the movie you two had decided on earlier tonight starts playing, and you feel your head slide into the crook of kei’s neck, like it always does.

the night starts off slow; just the two of you making remarks at the movie, laughing at plot holes and cliches. then, by halfway, the bowl of popcorn is empty; as the protagonist kisses their love interest, you feel a flush up your cheeks; and as the movie ends, kei’s arm is around your waist, pulling you into his side. it’s a pretty shitty movie.

“well, that was a shitty movie.”

“agreed,” you grunt as you stand up to place the bowl of popcorn on your desk, to be taken out at a later time. you fold your laptop onto your desk as well, and kei gets the cue to sprawl your duvet back onto your bed. it’s only nine pm. you climb back in your bed, motioning for him to come with you, too.

slowly, his tall figure holds yours in an embrace filled with something you could only identify as care and affection. and here, especially with his glasses off, sight blurry and only really being able to see you in full focus, it makes you grin at how strikingly different he can be in your room and at school. not that you had ever seen him at school very often, as most of your relationship was crafted of video calls and secret little dates in the night.

you wonder if he’ll grow out of this.

“oh my god, something kind of funny happened today after the english exam,” you chuckle, your head resting comfortably on kei’s chest. he lets out a questioning hum.

“the girls in my class thought i was seeing osawa,” you stifle a laugh, “at me they were like, you’re definitely dating a guy from the basketball club.”

“wait, how’d they know you were dating someone?”

“word got out. they asked for details, and i told them he was in a sports club.”

“they didn’t think about the volleyball club?”

you shake your head, “they did, but they literally went - ‘we know it can’t be kageyama or tsukishima, so, yamaguchi?’” kei snickers at those words, remembering that even the boys in the volleyball club don’t know about you.

“i love how they just glossed over the chances of you with either me or kageyama,” kei tsks, “and who’s osawa?”

you roll your eyes, hearing his voice tinted with a bit of jealousy when he hears other people think you’d go better with this random guy at school. “he’s a guy i partnered up with for biology. why?”

“nothing. just good to know.”

“alright, whatever.” you flip over, your chin now pressing on the backs of your hands on his chest. your grin is wide.

“your hoodie smells like sweat,” kei says, trying to divert the topic away from your eventual accusations of jealousy.

“it’s your hoodie, asshole!” you jokingly exclaim, and he pulls the hood up to your head. you look cute, he thinks, even with his over-worn hoodie and messy hair. it’s in moments like these, when the both of you let go of the fronts you put up at school, and just live like nobody else exists. of course, it will all be over in a few hours, but that’s not to say he doesn’t secretly text you under the desk during class or that you don’t have the liberty of an extra pack of chips in your locker from the early mornings kei has practice.

“okay, but, hoodie aside, you could’ve just said i was your boyfriend.”

you like the sound of it; something so distant yet so close. so you make him repeat it again, “wait, what did you say?”

kei exhales through his mouth, “you could’ve just said i was your boyfriend.”

“would you like a boyfriend badge with that?” you tease.

“shut up. at least it sounds better than you and osawa,” he mumbles, sitting up, leaning on his arms. “not that anyone would ever know about us.”

your arms wrap around your boyfriend’s neck. his eyes stare straight into yours, and though he still feels uneasy at first, he likes the feeling of you so near him, so warm and fluttery in his stomach. it makes you hope, at least, in the way he’s looking at you, that he might want to show you off more than he lets on.

“you know, kei, it wouldn’t hurt for some people to know about us,” you mutter, almost a whisper, and he catches your words perfectly.

“but i hate how everyone shits on couples all the time.”

“no, you just shit on couples all the time.”

he sighs defeatedly, “okay, but everyone’s just gonna be annoying when they know. like they’re shoving their noses into our business.”

“yeah, but-”

“on top of that, my mom would constantly nag me about the details of our relationship. i don’t need everyone knowing so much about us.”

you fall silent, running out of things to say. admittedly, the way he’s so quick to shut down all your reasons is getting to you.

“see? there’s no point in other people knowing.” kei’s hands run under your hoodie to caress your bare skin. he likes the way you shiver slightly from the sudden coolness of his fingers, but it does give you an idea.

“i’ll let you leave marks under my school blouse.”

“as hot as that is, no.”

you groan, slouching against his larger frame. you shift your weight onto him, making him fall back on the bed, and you settle with lying beside him. kei, like the reluctant cuddle bug you’ve found him out to be, immediately wraps an arm around your torso, like every second spent at your house that doesn’t involve his limbs intertwined with yours is a second wasted.

you exhale through your mouth, “kei, i just wanted to be proud.”

his grip tightens.

“like, we don’t have to tell everyone what happens between us every single day, but, god damn, i don’t want to keep sneaking you in like this, or having to send you off at like, four in the morning so nobody knows you were here.”

“do you care more about what other people think than how i feel?” now you’re letting it out. you realise you’re frustrated - so fucking frustrated - that you barely even get to see him every week because of school and clubs, and that you don’t even get to save his contact on your phone under his own name in fear that people might find out. all because nobody knows.

“no, i care about-”

“i want to hold your hand in public, kei. is that too much to ask?”

you take a deep breath, sitting up against the headboard, “my friends think i bail on them all the time. i want to tell them it’s because i’m going to see my boyfriend instead of some lame excuse, kei. and i want to cheer you on at the spring high nationals in january, because you talk to me about volleyball so much and i want to see my boyfriend do what he’s been working so hard for.”

there’s a hanging silence in the air, coupled with the whirring of your heater. you can’t make eye contact with him - what if he gets mad? your fingers fiddle with the string of his hoodie, knotting it and untying the knot. and it’s only then that he sees you, gaze unsure and lips pursed, that he knows what to do.

it’s not so bad, kei thinks. he wouldn’t have to save your number under a name that’s not exactly yours, and he wouldn’t have to always rush to leave because he has “something coming up”. he can walk you to class in the mornings when you arrive after his morning practices, and it’s like he can imagine the way he’ll hold your hand and make sure everyone knows you’re with him. his train of thought might have gone a bit too far, but he can’t deny the thought of wanting to show you off as his. hell, he’s had a crush on you since your second year (though he’ll never tell you or anyone), and now that he’s got the girl, he might as well be proud of it, too.

so he comes up and kisses you. chastely. “okay.”

you give him a flick to his shoulder, earning an ‘ow’ from him. “that’s it? okay?”

“you said i could leave marks as long as it’s gonna be covered by your blouse, right?”

another finger flick, to his forehead this time, “you asshole.” but you smile. you know him.

when you pull his lips to yours, this time, he makes sure to keep you busy with his hands around your body and your hands in his hair, shirts and hoodies being pulled up to eventually be taken off. suddenly, he stops, and it’s only then that you hear something that you’ve only barely heard once before, on a warm saturday morning when it was summer, months away from today’s october.

“i really, really like you, y/n. and i’m not afraid of that.”

as he cradles you in his touch, kisses trailing down your jaw and beginning at your collarbone, you make sure to ask if he’s okay with reusing the same uniform he wore today for tomorrow. his answer slips out easily; yes.

“is it always this cold in the mornings when you practice?” you tighten the scarf around your neck, shoving your hands into your coat. kei hums in response as you two near the gym.

“to be fair, you could’ve worn tights. doesn’t help when you’re basically half naked in the winter.”

“wearing a skirt does not mean i’m half-naked, kei.” you scoff, but you do take a mental note to start dressing warmer for the coming seasons.

“i’m just saying, the wind can just go up your skirt-”

his sentence is cut short when a louder, higher-pitched voice runs through.

“woah! tsukishima’s with a girl?” you recognise it as one of the kids in class 3-2, hinata shoyo. his orange hair isn’t exactly easy to miss. behind him is the boy you recognise as kageyama tobio, remembering the way kei would sometimes slip in a snarky mention of his name on the nights he’d call you from his training camp in tokyo. you introduce yourself to the two boys.

“why is that such a surprise to you?” kei points out sharply. a number of second and first years pass by the three of you, and they exchange casual good mornings.

“i think i’ve seen you around. are you friends with kana-san?” hinata names one of the girls in your class, and you nod, telling him you’re pretty close to her.

"are you going to be watching us practice?” hinata asks, and as you look frantically between kei and hinata, you tell him, “yeah, is that okay for you guys?” kageyama and hinata nod.

you don’t miss it when kei takes your hand and intertwines your fingers with his. it makes you feel a little warmer in chilly weather. it makes you smile.

“go ask team captain over there,” kei shrugs, cocking his head at yamaguchi, who currently has a content smile on his face.

“so this is your girlfriend!”

you immediately snap your head at kei, as if silently telling him no fair, how come yamaguchi knew all along?! kei shrugs, “he saw me going to your locker one day.”

you roll your eyes before introducing yourself the same way you did to hinata and kageyama, and you hear kageyama huff out, “she looks too nice for you.”

kei scoffs, “well, that’s rich coming from you. maybe you’re forgetting how-”

“alright, tsukki, let’s just go up to the clubroom first.” yamaguchi thankfully cuts in, letting hinata and kageyama go to the gym first.

“oh, y/n-san, you can go to the gym first, too, since we’re going to be changing in the clubroom. we don’t want you to wait outside, after all.” yamaguchi adds, and as you let go of kei’s hand with a reassuring smile, hinata takes it upon himself to make even more conversation with you on the way to the gym. you find his and kageyama’s company entertaining.

“if he’s you’re boyfriend, does he, like, insult you all the time?” kageyama blurts out, his words making you break into smiles.

you giggle, swatting your hands, saying no, no. it makes you realise how different he really is when he isn’t with you.

your hand wanders to the uniform bow around your collar, and you play with the ends of it, the area of your body reminding you of the hickeys you saw littered around your chest and collarbone this morning. when you told kei about it, he only shrugged with the most smug face you’ve ever seen. thank god for collared uniforms.

“so, y/n-san, how’s tsukishima as a boyfriend?” hinata chimes in.

you catch your lip in between your teeth, sucking in a soft inhale. you wonder if you could tell them that he’s the guy that buys you your favourite snacks on the way back from volleyball practice, or that he puts all your favourite songs into his daily playlist so that he can sing along with you when he comes over. still, even after the news about your relationship, you think there’s no harm in keeping some things private. so you exhale.

“he’s an asshole,” you laugh, gleeful, “such an asshole.”

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noctumbra · 4 years

Text

❝tension❞

summary ─ “tell me you want it,” he murmured against the soft material of your panties. “tell me you want it,” he repeated, “otherwise i’m just gonna stop and pretend that this never happened.”

pairing ─ ceo!bucky barnes x secretary!reader

warnings ─ smut, +18, office sex, power dynamic, sir kink, choking, oral sex

a/n ─ soooo i have no words but this is l o n g sjkfhggjf hope you like it! please leave a comment if you do! thank you <33

KINKTOBER DAY SEVEN: ceo!bucky + secretary!reader + office sex + power dynamic

You knew that your boss shouldn’t have been looking at you like that since day one. You also knew that you shouldn’t have been thinking about your boss like that.

You were working for a Fortune 500 company as the secretary of James Barnes the CEO. The title of your job was stressful enough, and the way your boss looked at you whenever you were alone did not help to ease the stress.

He was always dressed sharp; his tailored suits were usually black, sometimes all black even the shirt, his hair was long but he’d always put it into a cute bun at his nape and he was usually clean shaved though you had seen him with a stubble once or twice. His deep voice was commanding in a soft way whenever he spoke to you: It sounded like he was requesting rather than ordering. You liked that about him.

His eyes, though, they were telling a whole different story.

The stormy grey-blue eyes were carrying a little amount of innocence kind of spark in them while they were actually filled with mischief. He’d know that you were making excuses and lying about them whenever he wanted to go over the files after hours with one look. When he realized that you were lying, his eyes would get dark and the mischief part in them would increase.

Sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder: What if he really wanted to go over the files? What if this is not something to get you alone with, but work purposes only thing? What if one day he’d fire you because of this? You have lost so many sleeps thinking about it. You knew that you’d have to say yes at one point because you were running out of excuses.

Sighing, you grabbed the file you just fixed with the latest updates on numbers and rose from your seat. You were about to clock out, only ten minutes left, but you had a feeling that tonight was going be long somehow. You frowned slightly as you knocked on his door. You wished that he wouldn’t ask for you to stay after hours because you knew you couldn’t say no this time.

“Come in!” His muffled voice reached you, and you opened the door. James smiled at you all wide and cheerfully. “Ah, the face I needed to see to feel happy at the end of my stressful day,” he joked, his smile getting wider when he noticed you were shying away from him. “Yes, Y/N?”

“These are the latest numbers, sir, and I need your sign on them,” you murmured as you walked around his desk and placed the file in front of him, showing the numbers and their update date. James hummed. His eyes were skimming over the numbers with knowledge. He must have liked the latest news, he hummed again but this time approvingly. He grabbed his pen and started to sign the papers you showed him one by one.

“Would you mind staying in tonight? Rogers and Romanoff are having a meeting about the Asia situation, and I want you there,” he murmured, eyes still on the papers. You cursed to yourself, but you were happy that you wouldn’t be alone with him.

“Of course,” you agreed, watching a beautiful smile spread on his lips. “I can stay.” James nodded, signing off the last paper, he looked at you.

“Can you order some food? Whatever you like, doesn’t matter, and we’ll join them after,” he said, eyes sparkling. You nodded. “Not Chinese, though. I don’t think I can eat something Asia related until we fix this problem.” You chuckled.

“That’s fair,” you murmured, smiling. “Pizza, sir?” James hummed loudly, approving.

“Ask for mozzarella sticks, too?”

“You got it,” you agreed easily as you put the file back together. “I’ll let you know when it comes.” James nodded, playing with his tie until it came loose. You saw him place his tie on his desk before popping off the first few buttons of his shirt. Salivating, you quickly turned your head away from his direction.

You left his room, calling your favorite pizza place and asked for three large pizzas and mozzarella sticks. While you were waiting for your order to arrive, you decided to fix your desk a little. It was messy and you didn’t like it when your desk was messy. Hands moving fast over the papers, you put them in their files, fixed your notes and logged off your computer. You were just finished tidying up, your order arrived.

“Shoulda known that it was you ordering this mess,” your usual delivery guy, Erik, chuckled warmly. You winked at him. Paying for the food with the company’s card, you thanked Erik and let James know that the food had arrived.

“Bring it to my office,” he said, “I have an empty, big desk that we can eat on.” You agreed, making your way to his room again.

James was a funny man outside of work, you had decided on this long before. He was also kind of guy that was nice to have around. The conversation flew very easy with him since you have a lot in common. It was also nice to have dinner with him like this; you were laughing into your mozzarella stick because he was telling you a story from his childhood that included Mr. Rogers and James being chased by his mother because he was being naughty.

“’m not kiddin’ when I say Ma fried my ass after that stunt,” he grumbled in his pizza slice and rolled his eyes. “Stevie got away with it, of course, since he was a sickly little thing.” He rolled his eyes one more time. Your giggle turned into a full laughter and you just couldn’t stop yourself.

“It’s really hard to imagine you like that, sir,” you chuckled. “Held by the ear and being chased around by your mother? Impossible.” James snorted and laughed.

“Well, I was quite the naughty boy when I was little so,” he shrugged, his sparkling dark eyes found yours as he emphasized the word ‘naughty’. You swallowed your bite, taking a sip from your drink, and just smiled. He took a big bite from his slice, smearing tomato sauce all over his chin and the tip of his nose. Grabbing a tissue, you leaned forward to wipe it instinctively.

“You have a little─” Without letting him answer you, or stop you, you wiped the sauce.

You didn’t realize how much you leaned into his personal space, though. Not until he took a hold of your wrist, pulling you in just a bit more. You held your breath when you were nose-to-nose with him, his lips hovering over yours and his breath fanning over them lightly. “Sir, I─”

He slammed his lips over yours, stealing what was left from your breath and your words. His lips were softer than you expected. The way he was kissing you was making you feel things that no other men had made you feel, and maybe that was the reason why you didn’t push him away. Instead, you lifted your skirt up to your thighs and slid onto his lap.

Humming approvingly, James leaned back on his office chair and grabbed your hips lightly. He wanted to kiss you like this for so long. He was having a hard time believing that it was happening right now. Though, he knew that he probably wouldn’t get any other chance to kiss you like this, so he put every single trick he had in his kiss.

You moaned quietly as his hands tightened over your hips, squeezing, and pulled you against him even more. You wrapped your arms around his neck. Your hands were splayed over his broad and muscled back. James grunted into the kiss and let his tongue lick along your bottom lip. You gasped, and he took this as an invitation. Your tongues meeting in the halfway, both of you moaned loudly. Your hips were moving over his slowly, unaware that you were moving them until James groaned and made your grind harder.

“Oh─” You gasped again, and suddenly the scene before you changed.

With one move, you were onto the empty side of the desk that you were eating on. James was looming in front of you; hands roaming your bare legs, skimming over your satin shirt and winding themselves into your neatly made hair, messing it up. His fingers were quick to unbutton your shirt and diving under your bra.

“Fuck, darlin’,” James moaned as he cupped your breasts. “So good, so soft, mmm.” You felt your face heating up, you whimpered slightly. He kissed the valley of your breasts softly, then started to trail kisses to your aching core. “Tell me you want it,” he murmured against the soft material of your panties. “Tell me you want it,” he repeated, “Otherwise I’m just gonna stop and pretend that this never happened.”

Swallowing, your lips parted slightly. You were so wet, you could feel yourself dampening your panties. Your nipples were aching because of how horny you were. You didn’t want him to stop. You’ve been fantasizing about this for so long.

“I want it,” you whispered, pulling on his shirt a bit. “I want this so bad.” James flashed you a dark, predator kind of look and made you shiver under his gaze. He fell onto his knees between your legs and pulled your panties off you. Kissing your ankles, James trailed his way to your wet folds with kisses. You moaned lightly, loving the sensation of his lips on your skin.

James kissed your inner thighs and nudged your clit with his nose playfully. Without letting you beg, or whimper, his mouth closed around your clit and sucked it hard. You screamed. Your hands flew and found his hair. You pulled onto them hard when James continued to suck your clit in his mouth, he’d lap at your folds with his tongue every once in a while.

“Fuck,” you moaned, “Sir, fuck, sir!” James hummed. He loved the way you called him ‘sir’ all the time, but hearing you desperate and moaning under him and calling him ‘sir’? He was in fucking heaven.

Continuing to hum, James slid two of his fingers inside your wet pussy. You were literally dripping into his palm, and James felt like he was going crazy a little. He moaned, vibrations making your stomach flutter and warning you that you were already so close to coming.

“Mmm,” James moaned again, “You’re close…” He kissed your clit and licked a flat line from bottom to top, flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit. You gasped, hips bucking against him softly, you nodded. “Come, sugar. Lemme taste you, c’mon.”

Closing his lips around your clit again, James started to move his fingers in and out of your faster. You moaned, writhed under him and fisted his hair. You were moving your hips, practically riding his face, and he was on his knees, just taking it. You gasped at the thought.

“Oh, fuck!” You moaned loudly. “James! Shit─” You came around his fingers. Your walls clenching around those deliciously thick and long fingers, clit throbbing in his mouth. James kept at it until you calmed down from your orgasm, and only stopped after you pushed his head away a bit. He stood up. His face was drenched with your come; his chin was shiny and his lips were red and swollen. His hair was a mess thanks to your hands messing it up, and his eyes were dark and aroused. Your eyes moved downwards. His bulge was obvious, tenting his trousers, you licked your lips.

James leaned in, lips closing on yours, you tasted yourself and hummed appreciatively. “You? Taste so fucking good, pumpkin,” he murmured against your lips. You felt your face heating up at his words. A soft throbbing made you aware that your pussy was still wet and not tired. You trailed your hand over his bulge, causing him to groan loudly. You let your fingers tease him a bit; squeezing the bulge over the fabric, moving your nails over it softly… James gasped into your mouth, groaned and grunted.

The noises you were pulling out of this man were going to kill, you just fucking knew it.

Your hands found his belt and they were quick to undo it. You unbuttoned his pants, pulling the zipper down and then his pants. The tight black boxers were doing so little to hide his glory. You bit your tongue and ran your nails over the very thin fabric.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, his hands grabbing your wrists instinctively. His arousal-filled eyes found yours, there was a warning in them, but you didn’t care. “You are being a damn tease, pumpkin.” You smirked.

“Two can play this game, can they not, sir?” You murmured, tilting your head to your side. His eyes narrowed. You knew you were pushing him like this, but you just loved it so much. Loved teasing with him. He flashed you a dark smirk before he grabbed your wrists in one hand and pushed them up.

“They can,” James agreed silently. “So, I’ll play with you.” He kissed your jaw, neck and the valley of your breasts again. “Move those hands from where I put’em, and I’ll never let you come again.” He nibbled on the soft skin of your breasts. “And I’ll make sure that I torture you enough to make up the days that I haven’t.”

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, not expecting this side of him to this hot. James smirked at you. He pulled your bra off and took a nipple in his mouth while both his hands started to knead them roughly. “Do you have an oral fixation or something?” You moaned out, eyes closed and head thrown back. James bit on your nipple as answer.

Staying silent, he pulled himself out of his boxers and ran his tip along your folds, getting himself wet with your juices. You hummed, bucking your hips against his. James quickly slapped your thigh, placing a hand on your stomach, he stopped you from moving.

“Stay still,” he ordered. Then, he took his erection in his hand and stroked it a couple times before he slid inside of you in one move. You cried out with the fulfilling sensation of his hard cock inside of your aching pussy. James grunted, refusing to move so that he wouldn’t come before he could really fuck you. He leaned in and took your nipple in his mouth again as a distraction. You groaned throatily. Even though you were sort of mocking with him, you loved his mouth on you.

“Please,” you moaned, “Please, sir, move!” He hummed around your nipple and started to move his hips shallowly. His cock was hitting every single hidden soft spot in you, and you were loving it. He pulled off of your nipple, letting the abused flesh go. You whimpered softly. Your clit was throbbing so much─

James stood straight between your legs; he must have unbuttoned his shirt at some point because he was standing with his muscles on display for you. You moaned at the sight, hands itching to touch those muscles, nails begging you to dig in them. You looked at him all begging, but James just smirked. He knew exactly what you were wanting, but he wasn’t going to give it to you.

His hands grabbed your thighs and spread them a little wider, placing them around his waist after spreading them. Then, his hands started to move up. His hips were still moving, slow but a sensual pace he was keeping. His hands skimmed past your abused breasts and one of them came to a rest around your neck.

“Fuck, yes!” You arched your back, baring your throat for him. James groaned under his breath. Curling his hand around your throat lightly, his pace quickened. So much so that you were moving up about an inch or two with each thrust. Moans and groans and whimpers had mixed each other long ago, you felt that tickling sensation in your belly.

“Sir,” you whimpered. James just hushed you, squeezing your throat a bit tighter. You moaned as your eyes fluttered close. James’ already quick pace became even faster like it was possible, and you felt his balls slapping against your wet skin with each movement of his hips. You arched against his hand, wanting him to squeeze it just bit more tightly. He did, fingers now digging into your flesh roughly.

Feeling your airway crushed slightly, you felt a beautiful buzz in your head. “Please, fas─faster, sir.” Your begging must have worked, James suddenly leaned over your body. Your legs were now folded, nearly touching your chest, and James snapped his hips against your harshly. His thrusts were deep and hard and fast and everything you could have wanted.

“Are you close?” He asked, voice deep and raspy. You nodded, tears were now gathered in your eyes because of the lack of oxygen. You loved it. “Good, ‘m close, too, baby.” Panting against your ear, you felt his hips stutter.

It was after three more thrusts, he suddenly let go of your throat. The sudden oxygen filling your breath, you clenched around him and gasped, coming harder than before. James cursed loudly. His tight balls hitting against your slick skin one last time before his hips came to a halt and he emptied himself in you.

You were floating on the desk. You were basking in the afterglow, dancing in the pleasure he gave it to you. You hummed when you felt his hands stroking your hair and all the accessible skin. You were aware that he was murmuring something, but you were too high up in that sweet cloud of yours, you couldn’t pick the words that fell out of his mouth.

You came back to him four minutes later.

“There ya go,” he whispered, a warm smile playing on his lips. His face was shiny because of the sweat that had gathered on his forehead. His skin was flushed pink and you wanted to kiss him. So you did. James chuckled. “How do you feel, pumpkin?” You shrugged as you smiled at him.

“Good,” you answered. “Very good. Fuzzy. Happy.” James chuckled again, kissing your cheek softly.

“Yeah, you were gone on me for a little while,” he murmured, hands tucking the wet hair strands behind your ear. You just continued to smile at him. James leaned in to place a chaste kiss to your lips, hands still stroking your hair softly.

“Will we forget this?” You asked after you felt a little more like yourself again.

“No one can take this moment away from me, sweetheart. It’s etched into my mind like a brand now,” James responded, serious. You nuzzled against his head when he brought it down to stroke your cheek. “I also would like to keep you if that’s possible.” You chuckled tiredly.

“You’ve been keeping me ever since you’ve hired me,” you said. James smiled widely.

“Good, let’s keep it that way.” James poked your nose with his.

You chuckled again and nodded, tired body melting against his strong embrace as he held you against him tightly. You were happy where you were.

Nothing else mattered from now on.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #ceo!bucky #kinktober 2020

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twdbegins · 3 years

Note

when you can, can you do a Simon age gap smut, where the reader keeps turning down all the boys her age that try to get with her because she likes older men, can older men do it better and cuz ya know Simon is breathtaking, please and thank you

This got lost in my inbox somehow! So sorry for the wait!

Preferences

Simon x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Language.

Word Count: 1,651

“Are you saying it’s because I’m attractive?”

Being in your early twenties is a hard time for anyone. You’re now out of your adolescence years, being thrown into the deep end of adulthood and trying to navigate your way through life. Being thrown in a zombie apocalypse doubled your struggles.

“How many times do I have to tell you no?” You snapped at the puppy eyed guy that had been following you around for the whole day.

Travis was a sweet guy. He meant well and he was always kind to you, but you simply weren’t interested. He was rather persistent that you go out with him or even at least give him a chance. He tried to keep up with your fast pace as you whisked through the hallways.

“Come on, [Y/N]. I’d just like to go out with you sometime,” He attempted to persuade you; “It doesn’t have to be a romantic thing.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. That’s what they all said. It always ended up being a romantic thing, and you weren’t sure how many different ways you could turn him down easily before having to get aggressive.

“Travis. I said no and I mean no.” You said, stopping your fast walk and hoping he’d catch the sharp edge in your tone.

Defeated and dejected, Travis let out a heavy sigh and hung his head. He pushed past you to go sulk for the rest of the day. You didn’t like hurting anyone’s feelings, but sometimes the men around the Sanctuary just couldn’t take a hint. You leaned against the nearest wall, rubbing your forehead stressfully.

There weren’t many younger Saviors here. There were maybe 15 or so that were actually close to your age, and you had turned down probably about 8 of them over the course of your time at the Sanctuary. You just didn’t feel attraction towards any of them. You heard heavy footsteps approaching, accompanied with a low whistle.

“Damn, sweetheart. That’s the third one this week you’ve turned down.” The familiar voice bellowed.

You looked to see Simon striding towards you, his hand motioning to Travis who he had just passed by. You groaned.

“He’s the most stubborn one yet.” You announced, feeling a slight blush as Simon took the vacant spot next to you on the wall.

Truth was, if there were any man at the Sanctuary that you wanted the attention of, it was the infamous right-hand man. Simon was a real man. He was built, strong, intelligent, charming, and devilishly handsome. You had a gut feeling that he knew his way around a woman. If only there was a way you could put your theory to the test.

“Travis is a great guy.” Simon noted.

“Yeah, and so is Alan, Ron, and Cedric,” You said, referring to the other guys you had shut down; “I’m just not interested.”

“You know, most women would be flattered at the amount of attention you get.” Simon pointed out, crossing his arms and looking over at you with his dark brown eyes.

You could smell his cologne. It was faint, but it was heavenly.

“Yeah, but is it because they’re actually interested or because I’m the only available woman around?” You questioned aloud.

You were well aware that (other than Negan’s wives, who were strictly off limits) you were pretty much the only young, spry woman around. The Sanctuary was of male majority, and most of them were incredibly sexually frustrated, especially the younger ones.

“I was that age once. Trust me, there’s other reasons.” Simon said boldly, a grin appearing on his face.

You scoffed, but hid the deepening blush on your face. He was one smooth charmer.

“Are you saying it’s because I’m attractive?” You suggested, really hoping that’s what he meant.

He shrugged.

“Maybe. I mean, if I were in their shoes, I’d try like hell to even get you to spare me a passing glance,” He admitted; “I’m not so sure you’d want to get involved with me though. I’m not exactly 25 anymore.”

You felt a spark of thrill. You had a chance. This chance was too good and too perfect to pass up.

“You might be surprised.” You flirted, trying not to sheepishly smile.

He was surprised. He turned his frame towards you as realization washed over him.

“You saying that you have a thing for older guys?” He pondered.

“Maybe.” You repeated what he had said slyly.

He smirked, a dark chuckle erupting from his chest. He leaned his arm against the wall, drawing closer to you. He was dangerously close. Your lips almost touching.

“I thought I was crazy for thinking that you’re always eye fucking me,” He chided; “I guess my old intuition is still in working order.”

You laughed, slipping just your fingertips into his waistband. This is what you were interested in.

“I wonder what else of yours is in ‘working order’.” You hinted.

He hummed lowly.

“You sure you want to go for it?” He asked for consent.

“Hell yes.” You replied immediately.

His lips crashed into yours, rough kisses that were hungry and unexpected. His hands were under your ass in seconds, hoisting you around his waist and carrying you to his room that wasn’t too far from the hallway you were in. You were making out like a mad, horny teenage couple that hadn’t seen each other for a long summer. You had never been in his room before, but you didn’t care much for looking around at his decor.

He tossed you onto the bed, earning a squeak from you when your back hit the mattress. Both of your clothes were strewn across the room, your naked bodies pressed against one another warmly. His lips were hot on your neck as he sucked harsh hickeys, the slight pain and immense pleasure were a perfect mix. Your moans and the sounds of his lips on your skin were the only sounds in the room.

“You’re already so wet.” He said, reaching and rubbing slow circles onto your clit.

You whimpered out, his fingers working magic on your sensitive sex. He slipped two of his fingers inside of you, his fingers curled and massaged your inner walls, feeling how she was coated with slickness. You had almost forgotten that this was supposed to be about him, but that didn’t stop you from rolling your hips as you began to grind into his fingers.

“Shit. Oh...” You breathed out as he pumped his fingers and curled mercilessly.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” He growled into your ear; “You don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming of seeing you like this. You deserve someone who knows what they’re doing to make you feel good.” He said, bringing you close to the beginning of your climax.

But you didn’t want to finish just yet. You stilled his hand, making him withdraw his fingers. He looked you dead in the eyes as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. You felt prideful when he did so.

You purposefully moaned in his ear, sending him over the edge. He was between your knees, having your legs around his waist in seconds. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you firmly around him. He scanned over your naked body that was sprawled out on the bed.

Seeing you laid out underneath him, squirming with expectation was arousing and maddening. There were so many things that you did (some intentional and some not) that drove him absolutely wild. You way you bit your lower lip whenever you caught him staring at you, only using your imagination to wonder what he was thinking when he looked at you.

He pushed his shaft through your folds, relishing and groaning at the feel of you once more. Your alluring sigh signaled him to start moving, pulling out and back in at a rapid pace. Your inviting sounds were music to his ears.

You pushed your body down to meet each of his thrusts, allowing him to hit just the right spot. You could feel the pent up tension that he had built up with each rough entrance back into you. He held your hands above your head, his other hand pinning your hips to the mattress.

He pulled out again and one particular slam back into you caused you to moan louder than normal, causing Simon to speed up even more. Your chest bouncing with his every thrust. You were completely focused on the feeling of him dragging in and out of you. He let out a noise that resembled a growl that sent vibrations all through your body. Every cell in your body felt like it might combust with pleasure.

“You’re such a good girl. Taking me so well,” He said thrusting hard and pounding back into you; “I didn’t know what I’d been missing out on.”

Your face was contorted with ecstasy and pleasure. He watched how your breasts bounced every time he railed back into you, your loud sounds were music to his ears.

“You feel so fucking good. There’s no way Travis could’ve fucked me this good.” You praised, meeting his thrusts halfway.

Simon moved your leg over his shoulder and pounded into you even harder now. You almost cried out at the new angle. Your other leg tightened around him, his dick twitching deep within you.

You involuntarily clenched around him with a pitchy cry, releasing and hitting your high. He felt his own spiral, thrusting a time or two more and spilled his release into you. He groaned in solace, pulling out of you. Your hearts were pounding and your minds were racing. You looked up at him and smiled with joy as the look of euphoria in his eyes. You persuaded him to fall next to you so he didn’t totally collapse.

You grinned at him breathlessly.

“Yeah. I am definitely into older guys.”

#simon #simon x reader #simon twd #the walking dead simon #twd simon #simon x reader twd #simon the walking dead #simon twd x reader #simon twd fanfic #simon twd imagines #twdbegins

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witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 3 years

Text

Geralt x Eskel | 14.7k || header by the loveliest @petrificustotaluss <3

Geralt is in the middle of bottling a pain elixir for Mildred down the road when there's a frantic knock at his door. Frowning in the direction of the sound, he corks the bottle and rises from his seat, crossing to open the door. A young girl - Geralt recognizes her as the blacksmith's apprentice - is bent over, hands on her knees, and panting on his doorstep. She looks worried and when Geralt crouches down she looks up at him with big, glossy eyes.

"He's hurt," she pants and Geralt isn't sure who she's referring to. It's a farming village, someone is always hurt.

"Who," he asks gently and Gretka just looks at him.

"Eskel," she says and it feels like a dagger being plunged through Geralt's heart. It takes everything in him to keep his breathing even as he reaches out to rest a hand on her shoulder.

"Where is he?" he asks, "Is he okay?"

"They're bringing him here. The boys from the farm."

"Okay," he says gently, still trying to slow the hammering of his heart, "why don't you run along home and I'll go meet them."

Gretka nods and gives Geralt one last pleading look before straightening up and pulling away. She only takes a couple of steps before turning back to him, fidgeting with the hem of her apron.

"You'll take good care of him, right?"

"Of course."

Geralt doesn't know what he can do. Without knowing what happened, he can't promise anything, but he will do the best he can. Eskel is a friend and one of the kindest people Geralt knows, he has to be able to do something.

When Gretka is out of sight, Geralt pushes himself up on shaky legs, takes a deep breath, and makes his way out of the garden and down the path to meet up with the entourage. He doesn't make it far before he spots them, John the farmer and his three sons, and they've got Eskel between them on a stretcher. Geralt tries not to let it bother him, but even seeing him from a distance makes his chest tight.

As soon as the men reach him, everything moves far too quickly. Geralt is giving them directions and they move surprisingly fast for carrying a man as large as Eskel between them. Eskel himself is awake and Geralt does his best to give him a once-over on the way back to his hut. Immediately, he sees burn marks in his clothes, holes of varying sizes where the fabric was singed and he fears to see the skin beneath. A good portion of one trouser leg has been lost already and Eskel's leg is red and blotchy. Burns, at least, he knows how to deal with; he only hopes it's nothing more serious than that.

When they reach the hut, Geralt hurries in ahead of the others, seeking out a tonic for pain relief. He'd rather Eskel was unconscious for all of it, but that will have to come later; he still needs to talk to him about his injuries. So for now a simple painkiller will have to do. He finds one that's not too strong and hopes it will be strong enough.

He directs the men to lay Eskel on his bed and he hurries into the bedroom after them, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. He thanks the men and sends them on their way. He'll have to remember to repay them somehow, but he has other things to worry about now.

Eskel groans where he lies, and Geralt reaches out, his hand hovering just above Eskel's thigh. He doesn't dare touch him because he doesn't know how bad it is, but he wants to comfort him somehow.

"Hey," he says gently, "I'm here. Tell me what happened?"

"Fuckin' goat," Eskel mumbles and Geralt immediately scans his body for signs of bruising or puncture wounds. "Was making coal and she came up and tried to get right into the fire pit, had to pull her out of the way. Dog next door spotted her and started barking-" he groans and shifts in place, wincing, "-spooked her and when she pulled away I lost my footing-"

"Shit," Geralt mutters. He can imagine well enough what happened next. Eskel huffs a laugh, immediately followed by another groan of pain. "Shh, just relax. Where is it worst?"

"I think my leg?" Eskel says, "but my arm's not great either." He sounds much more concerned about the latter and Geralt realizes with a start that it's his left arm, his dominant arm that's worse for wear. Eskel moves to demonstrate and Geralt presses a hand to his chest instinctively.

"It's okay," he says quickly before realizing he's now leaning right over him. "I'll look you over." He only belatedly realizes he's still holding the bottle of pain tonic in his other hand and he pauses. "Sorry, I should have- It's easier for me if you're unconscious when I look you over, but I need to undress you first." He can feel his cheeks flush already and he hates it, but if Eskel notices, he doesn't mention it.

"Do what you gotta, doesn't bother me any."

"If you'd rather be awake I can give you this for the pain-"

"Geralt," Eskel interrupts, "you're not some stranger passing through town, I trust you."

Oh. Geralt's heart clenches and it takes him far too long to recover from that.

"Okay," he says softly, "wait here-" he realizes what he's saying at once and stops, shutting his eyes and dropping his chin. "I'll be right back with the sedative."

Geralt slips from the room and back into his kitchen, pressing his hands to the table and dropping his head. He's an idiot. Eskel is injured - badly - and here he is barely keeping his shit together. He gives himself exactly ten seconds to sulk and panic a little bit about having Eskel in his home and then he replaces the painkiller on the shelf and pulls down a bottle of sedative.

He measures it out carefully, though with shaky hands, and pours it into a cup that will be easier to drink from. He takes it into the bedroom and sets it on the side table, pulling up a stool for himself so he doesn't jostle Eskel any more than is necessary.

"It's fast acting," he explains, "you'll be asleep in a matter of minutes."

"For how long?"

"A couple of hours? Unless your body needs the sleep, then maybe longer." Eskel nods lightly and reaches up automatically when Geralt lifts the cup off the side table. "Hey," he whispers, "it's okay, let me."

He presses the cup to Eskel's lips, tipping it up so he can drink it. He hates seeing him like this, helpless and obviously in a great amount of pain, but he tells himself it will be fine. Eskel will sleep soon and Geralt can do what he can for the wounds.

Almost as soon as he's finished drinking, Eskel's eyelids flutter and he lets them drop shut. Geralt waits until he hears the sound of his breath evening out, then finally sets the cup down. He hadn't realized how tightly he'd been holding it until he lets go. His gaze lands on Eskel again, looking over him, and he swallows hard.

Pushing all his other feelings aside, Geralt gets to work. He starts with the belt around Eskel's waist, undoing it and gently pulling it out from under him to set it aside. Next comes the apron - slightly more difficult because Geralt has to empty the pockets first before he can turn him over to untie it, and Eskel's pockets are full of shit. Everything from nails to rags to dried fruit for the goat winds up in a pile on the end of the bed and Geralt smiles to himself as he thinks about it, imagines Eskel feeding treats to lil' bleater even when she's a pest.

Once he's got the apron set aside, Geralt falters. Shirt or trousers next and he can't bring himself to do either. But he's a professional, he can do this. He's done it dozens of times before. But stripping Eskel out of his clothes is not the same as the alderman or the seamstress down the road. Geralt swallows hard and resigns himself to a not insignificant amount of embarrassment as he leans over to unbutton Eskel's shirt.

The buttons end halfway down his chest and thick dark hair appears where his shirt now sits open. Geralt pretends not to notice and reaches down to unbutton Eskel's trousers, making it as easy as possible to pull his shirt loose where it's still partially tucked in. He winces in sympathy as he pulls the shirt over his head, revealing red, splotchy skin on the better half of his chest and stomach. It only goes partway around his side, so Geralt isn't too worried about rolling him over, but he will have to check.

First, he gets Eskel's trousers undone all the way and tugs them down his thighs, shocked to find he's wearing nothing between them. He steadfastly ignores Eskel's cock where it rests against his hip and makes a mental note to find him something to wear if he's going to be here longer than the night. Which, judging by the state of him, he will be.

Once Eskel is fully nude, Geralt inspects the burns more closely and they're worse than he thought. But when he turns him over, they don't reach his back, which means lying in bed will still be comfortable enough. Geralt leaves him for a moment, returning with cold water to rinse the burns and a salve for the burns that will both help with the pain and start the healing process.

He starts with the water, soaking cloths and laying them over the damaged skin, replacing each when they begin to warm up. He keeps it up for close to half an hour until Eskel's skin is no longer hot to the touch and then, once he's dry, he starts with the salve.

Geralt fidgets when he can't get the lid off and eventually has to stop and collect himself before continuing. This time, he gets the lid off without trouble and begins applying the salve.

Eskel shifts in his sleep and it takes all of Geralt's strength not to reach out to settle him. He realizes belatedly that he'll need bandages for him and wants to immediately get up to collect some, but he knows he should finish this first. He's just antsy, struggling to sit still and keep from climbing up onto the bed with Eskel. He takes his time applying salve and once he's satisfied with his work, leaves to collect bandages.

Nearly Eskel's entire front has some sort of damage and Geralt winces as he wraps his wounds, starting with his legs and working his way up. When he's done, he sits at the side of the bed for a moment, barely resisting the urge to reach down and brush his fingers along Eskel's cheek. His face is pinched up, even in sleep and Geralt can only hope the salve will act quickly, helping to relieve some of the pain, if only temporarily.

While Eskel is sleeping, Geralt keeps himself occupied. He brews teas to help with the pain and ensures he has enough salve to re-bandage Eskel's wounds tomorrow. He makes sure he has enough food in the house and calls out for supplies he's missing. It's not often he has someone else in the house with him and he doesn't want to leave Eskel alone like this.

But once he's sure his supplies are in order and fresh salve and bandages are prepared for the morning, Geralt doesn't know what to do with himself. He tries to read, but he can't focus on the words and when he cleans, he finds himself sweeping the same bit of floor four times because his mind keeps going back to Eskel lying in his bed. Although that, at least, gives him something to keep him occupied for a little while.

Geralt pulls all his winter blankets and extra pillows from the cupboard, making himself up a bed on the floor next to his own bed. He doesn't want to be far from Eskel, but he doesn't want to risk hurting him by sharing the bed. Once that's seen to, he makes his own supper and extra for Eskel if he wakes before the morning, then goes out to collect his laundry from the morning's wash.

While he's out in the yard, three separate people stop him to ask about Eskel. Geralt tells them all the same thing; he's fine, but he needs to rest and he'll be in bed for at least a couple of days. He appreciates their concern and he knows Eskel would too, but he'd rather keep to himself right now. He's not the one injured, but he's still feeling rather raw and overwhelmed by the whole situation.

It's a well-kept secret that Geralt has always been fond of Eskel, more so maybe than is good for him. They both grew up together in town, playing in the woods and the creek as boys and later attending the same festivals with the other children their age. They had at some point been mistaken for brothers, only as Eskel got older, he got bulkier while Geralt remained thin but strong. As children, Geralt had had a crush on the other boy and like so many other things growing up, it had never entirely gone away.

He drops a shirt thinking about it and as he ducks down, spots a red tulip growing next to the fence. Appropriate, he thinks. Tulips mean passion, a declaration of love, and he can't help but pluck it from its spot and bring it inside with him. He puts his laundry away and takes the flower into the bedroom with him, intending to put it in a cup to brighten up the room a little, but when he sees Eskel again, he sighs and drops onto the stool.

As he looks over Eskel again, his modesty preserved by a blanket pulled up over his waist, he smiles sadly. Leaning over, he slips the flower into Eskel's hair, tucking it behind his ear and brushing the hair from his forehead.

Eskel is still asleep when night falls and Geralt doesn't want to wake him. He takes the extra food he prepared and sets it on the side table with a cup of water. If Eskel wakes in the middle of the night, they'll be there for him, even if it might be difficult for him to move.

Geralt then settles himself in his makeshift bed and shuts his eyes. Then opens them again, listening to the sound of Eskel's breath. He rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling, pulls his blankets up tighter against his shoulders, rolls back onto his side. Nothing he does makes it easier to sleep. His mind races with thoughts of Eskel's suffering, hoping he won't wake until the morning and Geralt will be there to care for him. He thinks about him into the early hours of the morning and then, finally, falls asleep once he's made himself a plan for the morning.

When Geralt wakes, he can't have been asleep for more than a few hours. He pulls himself up off the floor, groaning at the way his joints creak and his muscles groan at him from sleeping on the hard floor. He'd be much happier to have slept on the sofa in the main room or on the bed, but he'd rather be closer to Eskel, though not close enough to risk hurting him.

He goes about his morning routine, cooking breakfast and disposing of the supper Eskel never ate. He puts it in a bucket for the pigs next door and proceeds to get something hot ready for Eskel in its place. He's glad, on one hand, that Eskel is still asleep, but on the other, he's worried that he's still asleep.

It's certainly not the tonic anymore, but he must have been exhausted, from his injuries or just because he works so damn hard. Geralt gets breakfast and a glass of water together and takes them into the room. He sits on the edge of the bed to prepare Eskel's salve and bandages and behind him, the bed shifts.

"Hey," Geralt whispers, turning to face a very frowny and somewhat confused Eskel. "Don't get up, you're hurt."

"I- Geralt?"

"You were brought to me yesterday afternoon, do you remember?"

"Mm, I remember falling in the coals and… yeah. Yeah, I remember coming here. You took care of me."

"It's my job," Geralt says simply, but he can feel the heat rise in his cheeks. It's not his job and they both know it.

"Coulda sent for a doctor."

"You needed immediate attention, I was happy to help. How are you feeling now?"

"Sore. Stiff. How bad is it?"

"Bad," Geralt says simply. He doesn't want to it and he knows Eskel doesn't want that either. "You'll need to rest a couple of days. You're… more than welcome to say here."

"Geralt, I couldn't-"

"You can, you will. I have more than enough space."

"Geralt-"

"I made breakfast," Geralt interrupts, "please, eat. There's water as well and I'll have to check your burns after you eat."

Eskel relents at the scent of food and Geralt is more than happy to have him eat it. He helps Eskel into a sitting position, propping pillows up against the frame of the bed to make him more comfortable. Eskel's right arm is better off than his left, so he's fully capable of eating on his own; Geralt could just leave him to it and give him a bit of privacy, but he can't bring himself to get up.

He keeps his hands to himself, even when Eskel fumbles the first couple of times because he's not sure how much Eskel would allow. He was still pretty out of it when he arrived yesterday, not that Geralt could blame him for that. He sits and waits and when Eskel is finished eating, he drinks the entirety of his water and settles back into bed.

"Sure you don't mind me staying?" Eskel asks.

"Of course not, stop worrying." Geralt gathers up the salve and bandages and sits on the edge of the bed. It's only when he pulls the blanket down to see Eskel's stomach that he remembers he's completely naked beneath the covers and he draws back.

"Do you-" Geralt lowers his eyes, "I could find you some clothes," he suggests, "I could bandage you up well enough if you wanted a pair of trousers."

"'S fine," Eskel mumbles, "wouldn't be the first time, anyway."

Geralt nearly chokes. He knows Eskel's only referring to the times they would swim in the river together as boys, but it feels very different when he's lying naked in Geralt's bed. He's not sure exactly how to go about it with tact, so Geralt just pulls the blankets away all at once and tucks them under themselves to the side. He carefully controls his line of sight as he moves to strip the bandages away.

Some of them have bled through, only a little, but it makes him nervous. He peels the bandages back and is relieved to find the wounds themselves don't look any worse than yesterday. He breathes a sigh of relief and Eskel snorts just faintly.

"I'm more resilient than you give me credit for," he mumbles. Geralt's instinct is to hit him gently, for being so careless about his own health, but he has no intention of proving himself a hypocrite. If Eskel is so blase about it, someone has to take care of him.

Once the bandages have all been removed, Geralt takes them away to be disposed of and finds a clean washcloth. He fills a basin with cool water and returns to the bed, setting the basin on the stool within arm's reach. Eskel has shifted so he's further down the bed now, easier for Geralt to reach, but his legs are spread just so that they draw his attention and Geralt has to try very hard not to look.

He chastises himself for it silently. Eskel is injured and the last thing he needs is his friend gawking at him because he's naked. Forcing the thoughts from his head, Geralt wets the cloth and wrings out the excess water.

Eskel shudders at the first touch of the cloth, winces as Geralt dabs it against the burn on his calf, but he doesn't complain even once. When Geralt is finished cleaning the wounds on his legs, he dampens the cloth again, wiping it along Eskel's unharmed skin. He gets a much better reaction to that.

"If you're too hot I can open the windows in here," Geralt offers. "It's stuffy anyway. In a couple of days, you should be healed well enough for a bath, I can fill it with cool water for you. I know it's hot in the summer."

Eskel just hums appreciatively and when Geralt pulls away to take the water and replace it, Eskel grabs his wrist.

"Thank you," he says, "truly, Geralt I know this is above and beyond your responsibilities. I know we haven't been as close as we used to be. So thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," Geralt mumbles, but he doesn't move, not until Eskel's hand slips away from his wrist. "I'll be right back with fresh water."

His cheeks are hot and he feels warmer than he should be so early in the morning, but his skin tingles where Eskel's fingers touched him and it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. So when he goes to collect fresh water, he splashes some of it on his face to cool down and to calm himself. Eskel is just a friend and he's doing him a favour because he's hurt and he can't do it himself. This isn't anything more than that.

He takes the water back and finishes cleaning Eskel's wounds as quickly as possible. To fill the time and keep his mind occupied, he asks about Eskel's work. He's always been fascinated by smithing, everything from the tiny little hinges that he makes for chests up to the frames that are used to build carts. On occasion, Eskel has tried his hand at swordsmithing and he was damned good at it from what Geralt heard. They'd offered him a position in the king's employ, but Eskel had wanted to remain in town, live a simpler life. Geralt, at least, was glad for that.

When Eskel is clean and dry again, Geralt helps him to his feet and finds him a robe to wrap around his shoulders. It's loose but soft and shouldn't hurt when it brushes against the burns. Not at least, as much as any other clothing Geralt could offer him. Eskel walks around a little awkwardly and pauses when he turns back to the bed. He bends a little awkwardly and picks up a crushed tulip from the pillow covering.

"Must have fallen into the bed," he mumbles, turning back to Geralt. "I must have crushed it in my sleep, I'm sorry." He says it with such sincerity that Geralt doesn't have the heart to tell him it was never not in the bed.

"It's fine," he says simply, his heart hammering in his chest. "There are plenty in the garden." Eskel offers him a smile and sets the broken flower back down on the side table.

"I have to water outside," Geralt says, "the sun won't be good for your burns, but I won't be long. Make yourself at home."

He leaves before Eskel can respond because he's still trying to figure out what possessed him to put a flower in Eskel's hair last night. It was silly and pointless and he could have gotten caught and then maybe Eskel would ask to go home. And Geralt likes being able to provide something for him, even if he doesn't like the circumstances surrounding it.

He takes his time out in the garden, both enjoying the sun and fresh air and giving Eskel some time to himself, even if only a few minutes. When he goes back in, Eskel's sitting on the edge of his bed, just watching out the window.

"In a couple of days, your skin should be healed enough to go back out in the sun," Geralt offers. Eskel hums but doesn't say anything and Geralt is surprised to find he doesn't seem particularly sad as he would have expected.

"Do you want to lie down again? I'll put more salve on your burns."

Eskel nods and shrugs carefully out of the robe, hanging it over the end of the bed before lying down obediently. He lies with his legs spread, just wide enough for Geralt to be able to reach between to wrap the bandage around and he should be thankful that he doesn't have to ask, but all he can think about is crawling between those thighs.

He realizes he has bigger problems when he pulls the little box of salve out. He has to get right up close between Eskel's legs to ensure he reaches the extent of the injuries and that means being very close to his cock. Last night Eskel was asleep so it didn't matter and this morning, Geralt was able to avoid touching too closely, but there's no getting out of it now.

But Geralt reminds himself that he's a professional and that Eskel needs this to get better, so he takes a deep breath and gets to work. Eskel's skin is soft beneath his hands, surprisingly so, and Geralt finds his hands wandering. He spreads salve on the wounds, still struggling not to pull back when Eskel winces. And maybe it's as an apology, that he runs his hand under his calf just gently.

But when Eskel sighs happily - the first pleasant sound Geralt's heard out of him - and settles against the bed, it's all the encouragement he needs. Gerlt doesn't let himself get sidetracked from his job, but he drags his fingers along Eskel's unblemished skin, soothing even as he continues to tend to his wounds. Maybe he gets a little carried away, captivated by the smoothness of Eskel's skin under his hands, but Eskel doesn't seem to mind, so Geralt doesn't think anything of it.

Until he moves up to the burns on Eskel's thighs and finds him… hard. Something hot and insistent swirls in Geralt's gut, but he adamantly tamps it down, refuses to acknowledge it. He smooths his palm up the outside of Eskel's thigh, brushing his thumb against his skin before reaching for the salve again. At the first press of the cream to his skin, Eskel's cock twitches, although Geralt tries very hard not to notice it.

"Sorry," Eskel mumbles, a breath of a moan in his voice, "your hands are soft, feels nice."

"It's fine," Geralt whispers, "I shouldn't have." And although he wants to continue touching, he returns to his work but keeps his hands to himself.

When he's finished, he slides off the bed. His heart is still beating too quickly and his own trousers are a little too snug, but he ignores it and pointedly keeps his gaze on Eskel's face.

"I have to go out," he says, "I have a friend who's a mage at the edge of town, I need to get something from her, it'll help."

"The edge of the village?" Eskel asks, "that's pretty far."

"I'll be back before nightfall," Geralt promises.

It's not really that far, Geralt thinks as he leaves the house, it's only half an hour each way - barely anything in comparison to how far he has to travel for some of the herbs he can't grow at home.

The trip, which should take less than two hours, winds up taking three. It's not uncommon that Geralt and Mara get caught up talking about new remedies or new ways to mix herbs, but it just so happens that she has been developing a potent burn remedy. And while Geralt is always interested in new potions - especially those above his own ability - but something that can help Eskel is even more intriguing.

Geralt leaves with a basket of foreign herbs, two bottles of the burn remedy, and a warning that the latter is potent and need only be given in small doses. Geralt makes a mental note of that and hurries back home, having already delayed longer than he should.

When he arrives home, Eskel is in the kitchen and Geralt frowns at him for being out of bed until he realizes there's a simple supper waiting for him on the table. He still wants to chastise Eskel for not taking care of himself properly, but his heart clenches at the thought of him getting up and preparing food for him and there's something about Eskel wearing his robe that scrambles his brain. He settles for a gentle you should be in bedwith me."

"Oh."

He's not sure what to say to that. Geralt doesn't remember the last time he shared a bed with anyone for anything other than sex and even then, that was too long ago to be worth remembering.

"I don't want to hurt you," he says because it's easier than admitting he's nervous about sharing a bed because of his feelings for the other man.

"You won't, please Geralt I hate to think of you sleeping down there on the floor."

"Only if you're sure," Geralt says, against his better judgement.

"Completely. Get up here."

Geralt relents and stumbles over to the bed in the dark, climbing up over the end of the bed and keeping close to the wall so he doesn't jostle Eskel. He lays flat on his back, arms crossed over his stomach and focuses very hard on not breathing too loudly or too quickly. But Eskel shuffles over, presses right up against his side and hums.

"'S warmer with you here," he says and Geralt feels awful. He should have asked if he was warm enough.

"If you're cold, I can get more blankets- I didn't think-"

"Hush," Eskel chuckles, "I'm fine. It's always nicer to have someone else in your bed."

Geralt can feel the flush creep all the way up his neck and into his cheeks, but he doesn't dare say anything. It is, he decides, nicer having someone else in your bed, but these are not the circumstances under which he would choose to share a bed. But the heat from Eskel's arm against his own spreads through him and he lets himself relax into the mattress, more focused on Eskel's body next to him than the quickness of his own breath.

When Geralt wakes, it's with his nose pressed into Eskel's neck and a heavy arm around his shoulder. For a moment he's blissfully unaware that he's actually away, happy to remain in his dreamlike state. But when Eskel moves his arm, he seethes with pain and everything comes back to Geralt very abruptly.

He slips out from under Eskel's arms, apologizing profusely, barely aware of Eskel's constant answering stream of reassurances. It's not until they're fully disentangled and Geralt is climbing back out of bed that he remembers Eskel is naked.

It takes everything in him not to run away, but Eskel needs him, so he stays. He's so flustered he almost forgets about the burn remedy, what with bandaging Eskel's wounds and cleaning them again. But he does remember and Eskel swallows it with a grimace.

"Unpleasant?" Geralt asks.

"Disgusting."

"I'm sorry. You should only need to take it a couple of times. It will help you heal faster and I should have you home within the week."

It's only the second day, but as he says the words, Geralt feels a certain sadness to be sending Eskel off home already. He likes having him around and will be disappointed the first morning he wakes and doesn't have someone to care for. But he's glad Eskel is getting better, or will be.

The morning passes quickly, but there's a lingering embarrassment that follows him into the afternoon and early evening. Geralt has been trying to focus on his work - just because Eskel is injured and in his house doesn't mean he's allowed to fall behind on his other orders - but it's hard.

It's summer, so it's hot and Eskel is always shoving the blankets down during the day, pushing them off his chest so they settle just below his hips and Geralt is having a very hard time keeping his eyes to himself. But every time he glances over, Eskel is stretching or smiling back at him and it's very hard to concentrate on even the most basic remedies when he's under Eskel's gaze.

By the time they're ready for bed, Geralt has gotten a little work done and has settled enough that when Eskel calls him over to bed, he doesn't complain. He crawls up under the covers, making sure to stay on his own side, this time.

This time, when the morning comes, Geralt is still on his own side of the bed and he manages to slip out before Eskel wakes. He slips out of the room to collect water for a bath, splashing some of it on his face to wake him up, and by the time Eskel wakes up, Geralt has the bath mostly ready for him.

He takes care in unwrapping the bandages on his chest and wiping away the excess salve from the wounds but already they're starting to look better. Geralt can't be sure if it's his own work or the burn remedy from Mara, but he's happy to see Eskel moving around more comfortably. Still, Geralt is careful with him.

He pulls the sheets down carefully and nearly chokes when he realizes Eskel is half-hard. Feels nice. The words echo in his mind and Geralt forcefully shoves them away along with the stirring heat in his gut. He shouldn't be thinking things like this about Eskel, he certainly shouldn't be thinking about them when Eskel is hurt. So he helps him out of bed and wraps an arm around his waist, pointedly ignoring the way Eskel's cock bounces when he stands up, and helps him get into the bath.

The cold water, Geralt thinks, should ease his arousal, but it doesn't.

Eskel settles in the bath with a hum, stretching his arms up to rest on the edges of the tub. For the most part, Geralt uses his hands to wash him, scooping clean water onto his skin and rubbing gently with his fingertips. He has a special soap he's used before for greater wounds and it doesn't seem to sting Eskel at all, but he's still careful with it, rubbing it onto his hands to apply it, just in case.

And Eskel hums under his touch, head dropped back over the edge of the tub, eyes closed. He's enjoying this, Geralt realizes, which is... probably a good thing. It's better than him being in pain, anyway. But as Geralt's hands slip lower, he becomes increasingly aware of Eskel's erection and he knows he shouldn't even think about it, but his fingers twitch against Eskel's skin, eager to touch and stroke.

He restrains himself, but only barely and when Eskel's hips shift to get comfortable, Geralt nearly forgets himself. And when he gets to his thighs, slipping between them to ensure the last of the salve is washed away, Eskel lets out a soft, shuddering moan. Geralt grits his teeth against it and continues, despite his own growing arousal. He barely survives the bath, and he has to keep behind Eskel as he helps him back out of it and wraps him in a sheet because there's no way Eskel won't realize just how it's affected him otherwise.

Eskel gets settled on the bed as soon as he's dry enough, lying with the sheet around him, but not covering him. His cock sits heavy against his hip and Geralt curses himself for how much he focuses on it. Yes, it's been a long time since he's been with someone, but Eskel needs him to help him, he doesn't need Geralt lusting over him while he's barely in good enough condition to get up and walk around on his own. He shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath, and gets to work.

But Eskel is tense under his hands this morning, and while he does his best to be soothing, nothing seems to work. Geralt has apologized three times before he realizes what the problem is and then he feels like an idiot because it's been staring him in the face this whole time.

"Are you alright?" he asks, "it's starting to look uncomfortable." He gestures vaguely toward Eskel's cock where it's swollen and twitching against his hip.

"'S fine. My caretaker would just be upset with me if I tried to do anything about it, anyway. Gotta relax, can't be overworking myself." He chuckles lightly and Geralt would swear he catches a wink as he scoffs at him.

"Sure?"

"Geralt, it's not the first time, you're just-" he takes a slow, measured breath as if to emphasize his point, "-very good with your hands."

Geralt wants to say that he has to be, that it's part of his job, but he doesn't trust his voice, so he takes Eskel's reassurance for what it is. But he's barely put his hands on him again before Eskel is pulling in shuddering breaths and moaning softly as Geralt's palm slides up the inside of his thigh. It's distracting to say the last and Geralt's own cock stirs in his trousers. He doesn't think it through very long before offering to help.

"I could… take care of it for you," he offers quietly, "so you don't overwork yourself. I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"Yeah?" Eskel asks and Geralt finds himself nodding, far more enthusiastic about touching Eskel's cock than he should be. "As long as you don't mind."

Geralt barely resists licking his lips as he glances at Eskel's cock and assures him that he doesn't mind at all. It's part of his healing, after all.

He slips off the bed to retrieve a bottle of oil and then comes back to sit on Eskel's other side. He slicks his hand up and tries not to think too much about what he's doing. The first touch has Eskel shuddering though and it's increasingly difficult for Geralt to keep his own body under control.

He winds his fingers around him and they don't quite touch. Eskel seems oblivious to his internal struggle and Geralt reminds himself this is not for him. As much as he wants this, it's for Eskel. So he gets to work quickly, wrapping around the base of him and stroking up to the head. To start, he's slow, almost clinical about it, as he would be if he needed to force an erection to examine a patient. But he doesn't have to force anything with Eskel, and before long his hips are shifting, pushing into the touch and Geralt speeds up.

He lets his thumb rub over the head of Eskel's cock, watches the way it pushes through the tunnel of his fist and he barely holds back a groan himself. He wants this to be more. He wants to be able to straddle his hips and kiss him while he touches him, to be able to slip his fingers down and find out if Eskel is amenable to being touched elsewhere. The thoughts bounce around in his head and it makes it hard for him to just keep his hand on his dick. Especially when he rubs under the head and Eskel lets out a low moan, pushing into the touch.

Geralt would do anything to hear that sound again, even if it means embarrassing himself when he's the one who comes out of this with an erection. He gets one hand on Eskel's hip - to steady him, he tells himself - and brushes his thumb against the skin. Eskel makes soft little noises under him and Geralt starts to pick up on what he likes.

Firstly, he likes to be squeezed hard, Geralt almost pulls a whimper out of him when he clenches his fist around the base and pulls all the way up, keeping pressure around him. And when he plays with the head, running the pad of his thumb along the slit and just beneath. But when he goes quickly, jerking only the top couple of inches, Eskel writhes in the sheets. And Geralt knows he shouldn't let him. It's not bad for his burns, most of which being on his front, but it's not good either. Though the sight is something Geralt will remember until the day he dies.

He licks his lips, biting down on the bottom one, and stops abruptly, squeezing the head in his hand. Eskel swallows hard and rolls his head back.

"Geralt," he groans, "fuck, that's good." Geralt doesn't dare respond. His own cock is aching beneath him and his throat is dry. "'m close."

At that, Geralt groans aloud and one big hand comes down to settle on his shoulder. He works him quicker, pushing him closer to that edge and then realizes with a jolt that Eskel is going to come all over himself and he doesn't know what to do about that. In a moment of panic, he ducks down, taking the head of his cock in his mouth.

Eskel bucks and whines and then both hands are in his hair, tugging as he winds his fingers through it.

"Oh fuck- Geralt, yes." The words encourage him and Geralt takes him deeper, pushing as far as he can take it as Eskel mumbles above him. Somewhere amongst the slurry or words, he imagines he hears wanna touch you, but passes it off as a figment of his imagination prompted by how badly he wants to touch himself.

He shifts his position so his cock presses against the bed with every forward thrust and he's pushing his luck because he could easily come like this, even though he's holding himself back. He winds his tongue around Eskel's cock before dragging it up the underside and pressing into the sensitive spot below the head. Eskel groans above him, pressing Geralt's head down lightly and Geralt is more than happy to let him take control. If he lets Eskel call the shots, he can't be held accountable. He's helping out a friend in need, is all.

His own cock jerks under him and he rocks his hips into the bed with a groan, but Eskels thrusts pick up, quicker and harder than before, effectively distracting Geralt from his own need. Eskel moans his name as he comes and it's like a bolt of lightning through Geralt's entire body as he tries to keep his mouth on him. He swallows everything down, pulling up to suck at the head to be sure.

Eskel's eyelids flutter shut and he slumps back against the bed, breathing hard. His hands remain in Geralt's hair for a moment, tangling gently before Geralt rises up and he lets go.

"I-" Geralt starts, but then Eskel's eyes open and he's reaching for him. Geralt shakes his head and pulls away. "You don't need to. I'm fine. I.. have to go get the bandages, I'll be right back."

He barely manages to get out of the room before cursing silently. He leans against the wall, hands clenched at his sides. This was a stupid idea. He should have known he couldn't get out without being affected by it himself. Geralt shuts his eyes and focuses on anything else, walks himself through the remainder of Eskel's care for the afternoon, and once the heat searing through him fades a little, he goes to collect the bandages and returns to the bedroom.

Eskel just looks up at him as he approaches, still slightly foggy from his orgasm and when he smiles Geralt sighs and plops down a little too hard on the end of the bed.

"I'm sorry," Eskel says, "I didn't mean to push, you just- I thought you'd want me to reciprocate."

"You're injured," Geralt says, "and I couldn't ask that of you." He turns away, grabbing the salve from the shelf. Neither of them says anything else as Geralt returns to cleaning his wounds properly.

When he's finished, he's still wondering if he didn't make a mistake and Eskel is right on the edge of falling asleep, so he leaves him alone in the room and sets himself to work for a little while. It's not until well past noon that he realizes he hasn't been out in the garden at all today.

He heads out and tends to the plants, but he can't keep his thoughts from Eskel, from the way he moved under his hands and the way he moaned his name. He doesn't know how he's going to continue on with Eskel in his house after this.

But the following morning when he checks his wounds, everything goes smoothly and some of the smaller burns have already started healing around the edges. Geralt makes a mental note to talk to his Mara and ask about the recipe because it seems to be working wonders. Once Eskel is bandaged up again, Geralt finds him some clothes to wear and Eskel accompanies him out into the garden.

His skin is still sensitive, so Geralt finds a spot in the shade and lays out a blanket for him to sit on while he goes about tending to the garden. Eskel chats quietly to him, petting the neighbour's cat when it comes to see what's happening, and it all feels disturbingly domestic and Gerlt isn't quite sure what to do with that thought.

He continues on with his work, poking at the edges of a fantasy where Eskel comes home to him every night and Geralt continues to care for him. He lets himself get carried away with it, scoping out the best place in the garden to build a pen for the goat; she's well-behaved (most of the time) but not enough to be allowed free reign in his garden. She's already cost Eskel days of work, she doesn't need to cause problems for Geralt's business as well.

But there's a section in the backyard that he keeps for fall plants and they could be moved to the front yard easily enough if he brought some of the herbs inside to grow in his-

He's abruptly pulled from his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder and he spins around to see Eskel standing behind him, smiling at him.

"Sorry," he says quietly, "didn't mean to startle you, you seemed very caught up in your thoughts."

"Mm," Geralt agrees, "just thinking about reorganizing the garden, bringing some of the herbs inside."

"I could help," Eskel offers and Geralt huffs a soft laugh, ignoring the heat creeping up the back of his neck.

"I don't think I'll have to, it was just a thought. How are you feeling?" he asks, quickly changing the topic before Eskel can add anything more.

"Better. I got up to walk around a little and I found these growing just down the road. To replace the one I crushed."

"That was for you," Geralt says weakly.

"Oh. I thought," he says a little bashfully, "they'd look nice in your hair." Eskel holds up the white flower, reaching up to slip it behind Geralt's ear. But Geralt jerks away unintentionally when he sees the flower.

"What's wrong?" Eskel asks, withdrawing.

"Nothing, it's just those - Gardenia - it means secret love."

Eskel's cheeks darken just slightly and Geral's heart does a little flip-flop at the sight. It's a very good look on him.

"Keep it anyway," Eskel says, reaching back up again. He pushes Geralt's hair back and tucks the flower behind his ear, smiling at his work. "Maybe you could tell me more about them so next time I can find you something more… appropriate."

Geralt's heart sinks a little but Eskel is still smiling so softly at him and the thought of telling him about his plants is exciting, so he pushes the bad feeling away and smiles in return. They spend the next hour going back through the whole garden while Eskel listens patiently to Geralt's explanation of the plants - what their meaning is, what they're used for.

Eskel listens and takes in everything Geralt tells him and Geralt has never loved him more than he does right now, standing out in the middle of his garden explaining how to make a potion to cure headaches.

By the time dinner rolls around, Eskel is getting sore again, so he heads inside while Geralt finishes up with the garden. He heads in when he's finished to find potatoes and carrots already cut for stew and Eskel sitting at the table in the corner waiting for him. He stays while Geralt makes dinner, talks to him while he cooks and Geralt wants to keep him forever, but he also wants him to leave because he knows he can't keep him.

Tonight, when they ready themselves for bed, Geralt doesn't hesitate to climb in next to Eskel, basking in the warmth that radiates off of him. He remembers nights when they were boys, camping out under the sky and pretending to be adventurers, knights. They would curl up together when it got too cold and he wishes he hadn't taken those times for granted. He'd give anything now to be able to cuddle up close to him and breathe in the comforting, still-familiar scent of him.

He lays quiet for a while in the dark, listening to every little hitch in Eske's breath, every groan when he moves wrong. He wants to reach out to him, to comfort him in any way he can, but without knowing how much would be welcome, he decides against it altogether.

But at some point during the night, Eskel shifts in his sleep, turning to lie on his side and Geralt wakes up with his head tucked under Eskel's chin and strong arms holding him. He wakes before the sunrise, letting himself enjoy the comfort of Eskel's body against his own, but as the sun streams in through the window, he disentangles himself and heads into the kitchen to make breakfast.

Without even checking, he knows Eskel's burns are healing quickly. He knows today will probably be the last he wakes up with Eskel in his bed and his heart is heavy as he prepares food for them. He tries not to think of their upcoming parting, knows that Eskel lives just down the road and they will still see each other, but Geralt will still miss him.

It's only been a few days, but he's been happy with Eskel here, even if he's spent most of the time trying to distance himself from him. He takes the food into the bedroom where Eskel is just sitting up and they eat quietly, but he can feel how badly Eskel wants to say something. Likely, he wants to know what's wrong and Geralt will inevitably lie about it, make up something about the house being too quiet without him around. But it doesn't matter what he says, because there's still a chance that Eskel's burns need treatment and if they do, he'll be staying a little longer.

Geralt doesn't hope for it, but he wouldn't be disappointed by it either.

He is disappointed upon unravelling Eskel's bandages, to find that most of the small buns have diminished to marks on the skin and when he touches them, Eskel confirms there's no pain. The worst of them are still red and uncomfortable, but they no longer inhibit his movement and Geralt barely holds back a sigh at the realization that Eskel is perfectly well enough to go home. And if that's the case, he'd rather do it sooner than later.

"You'll be happy to know they're healing quickly," Geralt says, rebandaging only the worst of the burns. "The remedy I got from the mage had worked wonders, but there's still some discolouration." The scars are lighter than Eskel's tanned skin, but Eskel just shrugs it off as he looks down at himself.

"I've got dozens of scars, a few more won't hurt."

"Suppose not," Geralt hums, tying off the last bandage around Eskel's thigh. He lets his hand slip, running down his inner thigh to rest on his knee. "They're healed well enough now that you'll be able to go home today."

He doesn't want Eskel to leave, not at all, but there doesn't seem to be much of a choice. Because Eskel no longer needs him, so there's no good reason for him to stay. Geralt sighs as he pulls away, but if Eskel notices, he doesn't mention it. Eskel watches him and Geralt almost thinks he looks disappointed (his own feelings getting away with him, he tells himself) but before he has a chance to do anything about it there's a knock at the door.

Geralt gets up to answer it, offering Eskel a half-smile as he goes. He doesn't want to seem down, but he's not looking forward to being alone in his little hut again, especially not after sharing a bed with Eskel for the last few nights. But when he opens the door, it seems Eskel will certainly be leaving him.

John, the farmer and Eskel's closest neighbour, is standing in front of him with a goat in his arms and she's squirming and bleating loudly. Geralt's surprised he didn't hear it before.

"Please tell me he's in good enough shape to come home," John says and gives Geralt a pleading look. "I don't mind looking after the goat, it's just she's… well, she's a demon to put it frankly."

Geralt opens his mouth to reply, but there's a huff of a laugh from behind him and he turns to find Eskel coming up behind him, pulling a shirt over his head. The goat squirms so hard John has to put her down and he's barely bent over before she's leaping from his arms and trotting over to Eskel, still shrieking loudly.

"Sorry," Eskel smiles, "she's attached." He bends down, running a hand along her back and sighs. "Guess that means we're heading home then, hm? Thank you, John," he adds lifting his head again. "I'll bring her home."

"I'll be heading home then," John says and once he's gone, Geralt shuts the door and turns to look at the goat, now happily lying on the floor and nibbling at one of his rugs.

Eskel is gone, but he returns a moment later with his boots, mostly unharmed by the accident.

"Well, I guess this is it. You can have your house back," Eskel smiles but the expression doesn't quite reach his eyes and Geralt desperately wants to tell him he doesn't want his house back. He wants to tell him he'll make space for the goat and he'll find somewhere for Eskel to sleep if he doesn't want to continue sharing and he-

"Thank you, Geralt, for everything. And don't tell me you'd do it for anyone, because we both know that's not true." He reaches out, resting a hand on Geralt's shoulder and his thumb just brushes against Geralt's neck. "I'll see you."

And just like that, Eskel is gone, heading out the door and back to his own home. Realistically, he just lives down the road, but he's never felt so far away and Geralt isn't quite sure what to do with himself. It's only been a few days but he's grown used to having Eskel around and he's not sure what he's going to do now without him.

He could go after him, tell him he doesn't want him to go, but what if Eskel does want to go home? What if all the little things Geralt has thought were hesitation were really something else? He doesn't want to risk his friendship with Eskel on a guess, so he lets him go and resigns himself to his chores.

The day passes slowly, but it's fine until Geralt turns in to go to bed. The room is still set up to care for someone and Geralt quickly makes the decision to tidy up before bed; it's one thing to come to bed missing someone, but it's a whole other to start your day that way. But clearing away the medicines and bandages doesn't help, because when he crawls into bed it smells like Eskel and Geralt can't help but press his face into the pillow, inhaling deeply.

He's not sure how it happened, or even when it happened, that his friendship with Eskel shifted into something more, something greedy and wanting, but he's never felt this way about anyone else. A part of him wishes it was anyone but Eskel.

For two days, Geralt's life returns to normal, for the most part. He's plagued by thoughts of Eskel and the memory of him in his bed, of his scent and his smile. But he gets through as he always has, reminding himself that it's better to have Eskel as a friend than not at all.

Then, on the third evening, since Eskel left, Geralt is in the kitchen boiling water for a tonic for the boy down the road when there's a knock on the door. Geralt sets the pot aside and pushes the grate up to keep the sparks in and crosses to the door wondering who could possibly want him so late. Another emergency, he supposes.

He's preparing himself for another sick child or an accident on the farm, but when he opens the door, Eskel is standing in front of him, a bouquet of flowers clutched in one hand. He smiles sheepishly and Geralt forgets for a second that he's supposed to greet visitors because he looks so shy.

"Eskel," he says and the confusion in his voice prompts a soft laugh from the other man.

"Can I come in?"

"Oh-" Geralt steps out of the way, eyeing the bouquet as Eskel slips past him.

To anyone unlearned in the meaning of flowers, it looks a little like a jumbled mess, but Geralt can tell there's a theme. Longing. Love. Hope. He knows the meanings of each one of those flowers and realizes with a start that it's a floral confession of love. His heart clenches to wonder who Eskel means to confess to, but he suspects he wants Geralt's help with the flowers and Geralt only wants the best for him.

Eskel shuts the door behind him and holds the bouquet in front of him, looking down at it as if ensuring it's good enough. Geralt is about to tell him it is, that the flowers are a little aesthetically jumbled, but that their meaning is clear when Eskel holds it up to him.

"I'm not very good with words," he says, reaching back to rub the back of his neck, "and you're not very good at picking up on things, but I thought this might be a little clearer."

"Eskel-?"

"I got the idea when you were telling me about your garden and I have a friend who knows about flowers. She helped me pick the right ones because I wanted it to be perfect."

Everything clicks into place at once and Geralt realizes he's been holding his breath. Slowly, he lets it out and considers very carefully what he wants to say before mumbling, "they're for me?"

Eskel nods and Geralt leans in, kissing him without thinking. He pulls back as soon as he realizes what he's done, but Eskel's already got a hand on his waist and he draws him back again, kissing him softly but firmly. Geralt shifts against him, giving in with a soft sigh and wrapping his arms around Eskel's neck. Gently, Eskel lays the flowers down on the table and puts his other hand on Geralt's waist, holding him against him as he kisses him.

It's soft, softer than anyone has ever kissed him before, but there's an urgency behind it, a desperation that speaks of years of longing. Eskel's hands slip up under his shirt and Geralt hums against his lips, parting his own to deepen the kiss as Eskel pulls him closer. For a few, glorious moments, Geralt knows nothing but Eskel's mouth against his own, his hands on his skin, and when they break apart, he finds it hard to breathe.

"I should see how you're healing," Geralt breathes and Eskel grins at him, tipping forward to press a brief kiss to his lips.

"Mm, of course," he agrees, tugging his shirt out of his trousers and pulling it up over his head. It falls to the floor unneeded and Eskel gets his hands back on Geralt's waist, guiding him back toward the bedroom, the implications of which are too much for him to think about right now.

Eskel sits himself down on the bed and Geralt crosses to stand between his knees, looking down at him. He runs his fingers over the discoloured skin, now nearly completely healed, and makes a note to ask Mara about her potion. But Eskel grows impatient with him quickly and in only a few minutes, Geralt finds himself tugged down into Eskel's lap.

"'M fine," he says softly, "thanks to you." He kisses Geralt's cheek, his jaw, his neck.

"Not me," Geralt hums, tipping his head back to give Eskel better access to his neck. "Mara made the potion."

"Mmm, but you got it for me. You cared for me. You loved me." Geralt starts at that, pulling back to look at Eskel. Almost immediately there's a hand on his cheek, rough but gentle. "Hey," Eskel whispers, "I love you, too. Have for a long time."

"I love you," Geralt breathes and the words feel foreign on his tongue, like somebody else is using his voice. He never expected to say those words out loud, much less to have Eskel smiling back at him.

Eskel kisses him again, soft and slow, and Geralt lets himself melt into it. He slips forward, straddling his lap and smiling against his mouth. Abruptly, he's hauled up and Eskel readjusts them so he can lie back against the pillows, pulling Geralt down on top of him.

It doesn't strike him until Eskel's hands are working their way under his shirt again, that he's allowed to touch, that Eskel wants him to, if past experiences are anything to judge by. He breaks the kiss, nosing at Eskel's neck before kissing down to his collarbone. He traces his fingertips along the edges of Eskel's scars, kissing the paler skin with reverence. Geralt pours all of his love into the soft kisses, everything he's wanted to say for years and felt he was unable and as Eskel's hands slip into his hair, he hums softly against the skin.

Eskel moans softly under him, pressing up into each kiss and winding his fingers between Geralt's against his hip. He holds him close even as Geralt dips lower, following the burn marks down to Eskel's stomach and the waistband of his trousers. He only detangles their fingers to get Eskel's trousers undone and once they're off and out of the way, Eskel reaches for him again. Geralt gives a little squeeze of his hand, a reassurance mostly meant for himself as he shifts down the bed and settles himself between Eskel's thighs.

He slides his free arm around Eskel's thigh, tipping his face to kiss along the line of the burn. His left leg is better off than his right, but Geralt picks out every little mark, kissing them individually as he makes his way down. Above him, Eskel groans and Geralt can feel his arousal in every little shift of his hips, of his legs, in the way his fingers clench around his own. There's a peace that washes over him knowing that this is what Eskel wants too; out of all the people he's met in his life, Geralt is the one he wants and it feels something like relief.

Geralt continues, diverting from his task to kiss Eskel's thighs, nipping at the soft skin and running his tongue over it. Eskel moans softly, spreading his legs and then he's reaching down, tugging Geralt's shirt up over his head. Eskel's fingers brush along his shoulders and the side of his neck, soft and tentative, and he lets Geralt linger for a while longer before hauling him up so they're chest-to-chest.

He kisses him again, harder this time and as Geralt shifts to get comfortable, he can feel the hard line of Eskel's cock against his stomach. His own cock twitches in his trousers.

"Gods," Eskel whispers, running his thumb over Geralt's lip, "you have no idea how badly I want you, how tempting it was with you sleeping right beside me." He rests his hands on Geralt's hips, slipping down over the swell of his ass and guides his hips forward, rocking up against him.

"Tell me," Geralt mumbles, "what you wanted."

"Mm," Eskel hums, "you looked so soft and sweet next to me, I just wanted to touch you, to get you hard. I wanted to roll you onto your side and slip up behind you. I'd take such good care of you, fuck you so well, sweetheart."

"Please," Geralt whispers, but he's breathless and the word comes out broken. Eskel doesn't need to be asked twice.

He rolls them over, shifting onto his knees over Geralt to fumble with the ties of Geralt's trousers before shoving a hand inside and wrapping around his cock. Geralt's already half-hard but it doesn't take much to bring him to full hardness with Eskel's mouth hot and demanding against his own and a strong, calloused hand stroking him.

Eskel nips at his lips and Geralt shifts, pressing his hips up and pushing between Eskel's fingers. He rolls his hips and fucks into Eskel's hand, moaning against his lips as Eskel's fingers slip lower on his prick until he's wrapped around the base of him and tracing the vein on the underside with his thumb. When he finally slips up again, he rings his fingers just beneath the head of Geralt's cock, squeezing tightly around him.

He lets Geralt fuck his fingers and Geralt wraps his arms around his neck, happy enough to have Eskel's hands on him. But it gets too restrictive, his trousers are in the way and he wants to spread his legs, to fuck up properly. Eskel seems to notice and he pulls off of Geralt's cock to rid him of them.

As soon as Geralt's fully naked, Eskel presses in close right up against his side. He traces his fingertips down the length of Geralt's cock, his lips hovering just above Geralt's and then, as Eskel's fingers slip down to cup his balls, Geralt groans and Eskel smiles.

"Mm, good?" he asks and Geralt nods, whining softly as Eskel's fingertips press into the sensitive flesh. He rocks into the touch and Eskel's lips drag across his jaw and up to his ear, nibbling at the lobe and nosing behind it.

"You're so beautiful," Eskel whispers, "I love you." He kisses behind his ear, moving down Geralt's neck to nibble at his shoulder. "I want to make you feel good."

Geralt shuts his eyes as Eskel's mouth finds his own again and then Eskel's fingers are slipping down, pressing back behind his balls and teasing at his hole. He shudders and Eskel's free arms lips under his neck, wrapping around so his fingers brush across his jaw.

"Okay?" he asks and Geralt nods, sliding a hand into his hair.

"Please, Eskel, I-"

"Shh," he whispers, "I know love, I've got you."

He presses further and Geralt opens to him, spreading his legs and shifting to give Eskel better access. He wants him, wants this and it still doesn't feel real that he's allowed to have it. But Eskel is soft against him, even his fingers, calloused and rough feel gentle on his face and Geralt tips his head to the side, kissing his fingertips.

Eskel holds him, rubs over his hole, whispering against Geralt's ear. He's only half listening, but it doesn't matter what he's saying because it's Eskel. Geralt just likes the sound of his voice, regardless of the words, so deep and rough yet somehow still soft. He shuts his eyes and focuses on Eskel's voice, on his hands, moaning and pressing back onto Eskel's fingers.

"Eskel," he breathes, "please, I want you."

"I know. Where's the oil?"

Geralt groans. The oil is back where it belongs, tucked away in his cabinet in the other room and Geralt regrets ever putting it away. Reluctantly, he pulls out of Eskel's arms and climbs off the bed. Eskel hums appreciatively as he crosses the room and Geralt smiles to himself. He can feel eyes on him all the way out of the room and even as he ducks into the kitchen, careful to avoid the windows.

When he turns back, oil in hand, Eskel is leaning up on one elbow, watching him with a soft smile on his face.

"What?" Geralt asks.

"You're so beautiful, do you know that? You were always the best looking of us but you really got pretty."

"Shut up," Geralt mumbles, but when he reaches the edge of the bed, Eskel reaches up around the back of his neck and tugs him into a brief kiss.

"'M serious. You're so fucking gorgeous, Geralt." He kisses him again, tugging him closer and Geralt climbs onto the bed, deepening the kiss as Eskel moans softly against him. This time, Geralt ignores his words, despite the heat that spreads through his chest, kissing him deeply instead.

Eskel rearranges them with ease, maneuvering Geralt onto his back again and pressing up against his side. Immediately, he reaches down, stroking him slowly without breaking the kiss. He takes the bottle of oil from Geralt and pops the cork, spilling it over his fingers. He wraps around Geralt's cock, stroking right up to the head and rubbing his thumb beneath the head before slipping back down again.

Geralt moans as Eskel's fingers slip down between his legs, pressing back against his hole. He's less patient this time, pressing against him and pushing inside just a little before withdrawing. Eskel's fingers are thick and stretch with every press and Geralt drops his head back against his chest with a groan.

"You okay?" Eskel asks and Geralt nods.

"'S good."

"Good," Eskel leans in, lips brushing against his earlobe as he whispers, "I want you to come on my fingers before I fuck you." Geralt groans, but then Eskel's pressing into him again and he turns his face into Eskel's neck, breathing against his skin. "There you go, sweetheart, just lay back and let me make you feel good. You took care of me, now it's my turn."

Geralt wants to tell him that there's a huge difference between this and that, but Eskel pushes deeper and the protest dies on his lips. Eskel kisses the groan from his lips as he presses a second finger into him and Gerlt rocks enthusiastically back onto him. Eskel is incredibly good with his hands, pressing in and stretching him, and Geralt is breathless where he leans against him, groaning against his lips.

Eskel is above him, behind him, all around, mumbling soft words into his hair and against his lips and Geralt has never felt so wanted in his life. He shudders and lets out a soft little moan as Eskel presses a third finger against his rim and tips his head back.

"Eskel," he groans, "please, come on."

"Not gonna rush, sweetheart, don't wanna hurt you."

Geralt groans. He's seen Eskel's cock, gotten up close and personal with it and has been dying for a chance to get it inside him. He doesn't want to wait, he wants Eskel to fuck him. But as much as he rocks down or squeezes around him, Eskel isn't letting up. He adds a third finger and Geralt bites down on his bottom lip to keep from moaning out loud.

"Don't have to be quiet for me," Eskel hums, "I like hearing you."

"Fuck."

"Mmm, that's right." Eskel presses his nose into his ear, nibbling at the skin of his neck. "Tell me how it feels, Geralt."

"Good," he mumbles, "but I want you."

"You've got me. Always."

Eskel gives a good couple of thrusts, then presses in with just two fingers, seeking out that spot inside him and rubbing against it. Geralt squirms against him, writhing as Eskel plays with him and then he withdraws altogether.

"Roll over," he whispers, nudging Geralt with his knee. Geralt turns onto his front and he's still settling when Eskel climbs over him, kissing his neck and pushing the hair aside.

He moves down Geralt's back, kissing a line down his spine and sucking at the skin. It sends shivers through him and Geralt can't help but rock his hips down, grinding against the mattress as Eskel's hand drops to hold his hips. He huffs a soft laugh against Geralt's lower back and then he's moving lower, one hand slipping between his cheeks and pressing back in.

Geralt buries his face in the pillow, gathering it under his face and moaning into it as Eskel fucks him with his fingers again. He's quick and hard but somehow still gentle, lips sliding softly over his skin until Eskel's thrusts slow and his mouth moves to join in.

The first press of Eskel's tongue against his rim has Geralt pulling up on his knees, thighs spread to give him better access and Eskel huffs against him. He slides a hand down Geralt's thigh, steadying him as he pulls his fingers out, and licks over the stretched muscle.

"Think you can come like this instead?" he asks and Geralt nods. He's sure of it.

His cock is already leaking steadily onto the sheets, hard and aching, and every press of Eskel's tongue sends him rocking forward, eager for any sort of friction. And when those thick fingers wrap around him again, Geralt could cry. He rocks forward immediately, rutting into the tunnel of Eskel's hand and pressing back against his tongue.

Then Eskel pushes in and Geralt cries out into the pillow. Rough stubbles scratches against his cheeks, a stark contrast to the slick smoothness of Eskel's tongue pressing inside and he's mindless as pleasure sparks through him. Geralt whimpers and rocks back, overwhelmed by so much sensation, until his hips stutter, unable to move fast enough to keep up with the need. But Eskel pulls him up, gripping around the base of his cock and thrusting in with his tongue.

Geralt whimpers, unable to do anything other than take what Eskel is offering. His legs shake under him, the coil of heat in his gut tightening until he almost can't stand it. He's so close, he just needs a little more. Eskel wants him to come like this and Geralt wants to, wants to shatter apart under his hands, and have Eskel put him back together again afterward. He whines and bucks, vaguely aware of Eskel rising up to cover him then Eskel strokes him again, slow and steady and he pushes him over the edge.

"That's it, sweetheart, fuck, you look pretty like this."

Geralt fists his hands in the pillow, hips jerking abortively as he spills all over his sheets. Eskel moves again, continuing to stroke him as he comes and then he's pulling away, readjusting to get an arm around his waist as Geralt's legs nearly give out on him.

"Fuck," he whines and Eskel guides him down against the mattress, humming softly against his skin.

"Yeah," Eskel agrees. He runs his hands up Geralt's back, slowly lowering himself over him until they're pressed chest to back and Geralt can feel Eskel's breath against his skin.

"Mm," Geralt mumbles, "you didn't come. Want you to fuck me." Geralt pushes his hips up and Eskel slides his hands up, letting his full weight rest on Geralt and twining their fingers together. He shifts his hips so his cock fits perfectly against Geralt's ass, pushing between his cheeks with each little movement.

"Just like this?"

"Yeah. Wanna feel you." He loves the weight of Eskel's body against him and he wants to make him come, and he wants to keep as close to him as he can.

"Tell me if it's too much," Eskel hums and then he's pulling one hand away, reaching down to adjust himself. Geralt holds his breath as the head of Eskel's cock presses against him and then he's pushing in, stretching him impossibly further and filling him up. He pauses before he's fully seated and Geralt shifts his hips, wiggling encouragingly.

"Don't wanna hurt you," Eskel mumbles and he sounds breathless already.

"You won't." Geralt can already hear the rebuttal, so he pushes his hips back, pushing all the way onto him, and Eskel drops his head between his shoulder blades.

"Fuck," he whines and Geralt just hums and tips his head to kiss Eskel's fingers where they're wrapped around his own.

Eskel gives a short roll of his hips, testing Geralt's readiness and pushes right up against his prostate. Geralt whines and his cock stirs beneath him where it presses into the bedding. It's sensitive, but it feels good and Geralt exaggerates the motion when Eskel thrusts into him again.

He keeps an even pace to start, slow enough not to hurt him, despite Geralt's assurances that he won't, but quick enough to keep him happy. And gods, he could stay like this for hours, pressed against the mattress as Eskel fucks into him. It feels like a dream, one of those he thought could never possibly come true, and yet with every thrust, Eskel mumbles against his skin, kisses him, holds him close against him. And Geralt didn't think he'd be able to come again, but his cock swells again, needy and wanting beneath him.

Then Eskel is shifting behind him, rising up to his knees and pulling Geralt up into his lap with him. He slips a hand around his chest, tweaking his nipples and sliding down his stomach. His fingers brush the base of his cock and Eskel hesitates before slipping down further, following the curve of his cock.

"Mmm, you're hard again," he hums, burying his face in Geralt's neck. "You want to come again, sweetheart?" Geralt doesn't respond, but Eskel's fingers are already wrapping around him again, stroking him in time with his thrusts and Geralt couldn't stop him even if he wanted to.

He settles his hands back on the bed, leaning back against Eskel's chest and turning to kiss him. The angel is awkward, but he catches his lips, groaning as Eskel takes the opportunity to slide his free hand up the inside of Geralt's thigh. He's already worked up and the faint brush is overwhelming.

He squirms under Eskel's fingers, but they just drag further up, teasing around Eskel's cock where it breaches him.

"Please," Geralt whispers and he's not even sure what he's asking for, but then Eskel presses one finger alongside his cock and Geralt's eyes roll back in his head. He's vaguely aware that he's mumbling, asking him for more, asking him to come, and Eskel holds him against his chest, kissing his shoulders and his neck.

"Come on," he whispers, "come for me, Geralt."

It doesn't take much after that, with Eske's hand around him and one pressing into him before he's coming again, a choked-off moan on his lips. Both of Eskel's hands leave him as he rides it out, wrapping around his middle.

Eskel fucks him quick and hard, panting against Geralt's ear.

"Love you," he mumbles, "gods, Geralt, you're so beautiful, so good for me-"

Eskel comes with Geralt's name on his lips, pressing his forehead against his shoulder and burying himself deep inside him. He shudders as he comes, hips twitching, and Geralt reaches a hand back to wrap around his neck.

For a moment they sit together, panting, and then Eskel flops to the side, pulling Geralt down with him. Geralt shifts to get comfortable, letting Eskel pull him up against his side so he can rest his head on his chest. The sheets are damp with sweat and come, but Geralt has never been so comfortable as he is in Eskel's arms.

"Could I stay?" Eskel hums, nosing into his hair.

"Of course," Geralt smiles, "as long as you want."

"Still got Lil' Bleater to get home to eventually, but I don't want to leave tonight."

"Could put a goat pen in the back corner of the garden," Geralt yawns, "there's lots of space if we move the fall plants to where the herbs are." Eskel pushes himself up, looking down at him.

"Geralt?" he asks tentatively, "are you- are you asking me to move in with you?"

"I- if it's not too much trouble going back and forth to the forge?" he reaches up, running a hand through Eskel's hair. "I didn't realize how much I'd miss you until you were gone again. I don't want you to leave again."

"You might get sick of me," he teases but his lips curl up in a smile and he smooths his hand across Geralt's stomach.

"I doubt it, it's been thirty years and I'm not sick of you yet."

"Thirty-" he starts but cuts himself off. "Yeah, okay. Guess we'll be building in the morning then, hm?"

"No," Geralt hums, tugging Eskel against him and curling back against his side. "Tomorrow we're moving plants, then we can build a goat pen."

six months later

For months, Geralt has been blissfully happy. He didn't think he'd ever get to be like this, but having Eskel living with him has been everything he could hope for and then some. They've even gotten another goat to keep Lil' Bleater occupied and Eskel has been talking about breeding them and selling goats. It's not a well-thought-out plan, but Geralt entertains it because Eskel's ideas usually turn out well for them and he wants Eskel to be as happy as he is.

But recently Eskel has been distant. He's always busy at the forge making something for someone, but lately, he's been spending more and more time there, coming home long after Geralt is asleep and leaving almost immediately after they wake up. And Geralt has his own business to attend to, so he tries not to let it bother him too much, but he can't help wondering.

Maybe Eskel is tired of spending so much time together, maybe he needs a break. On bad days, Geralt will wonder if there's someone else, but Eskel always comes home smelling of coal and singed hair, and that helps to settle Geralt's worries.

Then one morning he wakes up and Eskel isn't in bed at all. His side of the bed is still untouched from the night before and his first thought is that something happened to him again. Geralt rolls out of bed, fumbling to get dressed as he stumbles into the kitchen and out onto the road.

The forge isn't far, and he makes good time, running half the way in his rush to ensure Eskel is okay. And when he arrives, he shoves the door open to find… Eskel is fine. He's leaning over a table at the back of the shop and when he hears Geralt he turns to look at him.

He looks… fine and Geralt feels like an idiot for rushing up here. He's breathless, leaning in the doorway and Eskel smiles when he sees him, crossing the shop.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, ducking down to kiss him briefly, "and in my shirt, no less?" Geralt looks down to find he is, indeed, wearing Eskel's shirt and he shrugs.

"You didn't come home last night, I was worried something had happened to you." The smile fades from Eskel's face and he shuts his eyes.

"Shit," he mumbles, "I'm sorry Geralt, I got carried away. I didn't mean to worry you." He takes Geralt's hands in his own, bringing them close to his face and kissing his knuckles. "I've been working on something special, something important. I thought it was too early, but maybe,-" he shrugs and smiles, "do you want to come see?"

Geralt nods and Eskel leads him back to the table at the back of the room. There doesn't seem to be anything there, but Eskel picks up a small velvet bag and opens it, tipping the contents into his palm. From here, Geralt can't tell what it is, but as Eskel gets closer, he realizes it's a ring.

"Can I-?" he asks, reaching out a hand and when Eskel nods, he picks it up and inspects it. It's beautifully crafted, delicate flowers inlaid in the band, honeysuckle, he thinks, everlasting bonds, happiness - a wedding ring, most likely. "It's beautiful."

"It's for you," Eskel says and Geralt's heart stops for a moment. "If you'll have it. If you'll have me."

"Eskel-"

"Just… you have made me happier than I've ever been, Geralt and I can't imagine spending the rest of my life without you. Marry me?"

"Yes," Geralt says before the rest of him can catch up. He doesn't even have a chance to think before Eskel is surging forward and scooping him up into his arms.

He kisses him softly, slowly, only pulling back to take the ring from Geralt's hand. He slips it onto his finger and slips his fingers between Geralt's, tipping forward to kiss him again. There's a weight to the ring, but it feels like comfort, like that first time Eskel touched him. Geralt smiles against his lips, bringing his free hand up to slip through Eskel's hair.

He can't believe that a year ago, he was silently pining over this man and now he's looking forward to spending the rest of his life with him.

#geralt x eskel #herbalist!geralt #blacksmith!eskel #spicy #rex writes

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javierpinme · 3 years

Text

Part One: New Beginnings

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Infidelity, angst, friends to lovers, mentions of alcohol

Rating: M (might change)

Summary: You’ve lived in a small town for half of your life and nothings really changed until it did. Moving halfway across the country you find lasting friendships and a love you needed at the exactly the right time.

A/N: There is not a ton of Frankie in this one since I wanted to set the tone for the reader before they meet! They don’t see/meet each other until near the end (or do they?) I wanted to build the reader’s relationships with the people in her life as there will more parts.

AO3

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It’s hard to build friendships as an adult without being under the pretense of school or college. It’s especially difficult when you decide to move across the country. Away from your family and friends, but it’s what you needed. Seeing the same four walls you lived in, that same greasy diner that was always your go-to after one too many tequila shots the night before, and that one ex from high school that you’d really rather forget while running errands were making you feel complacent. Wake up. Drink. Eat. Work. Sleep. Repeat. You’ve spent most of your life here. You weren’t about to spend the rest of it here. So, you did something completely unlike you. You packed up your life and moved. The house was beautiful. You’d never owned anything in your life; just rented so this is a major upgrade for you. The first sight that greets you is the stairs after living in a first floor unit for most of your life. The house isn’t in perfect shape, but it’s yours which is all that matters.

The movers have left so you finally had the place to yourself. You couldn’t help the defeated sigh that fell from your mouth at the sight of all the boxes. If your sister and friends were here you’d probably be knee deep in pizza and wine while attempting to build furniture. You gave your brain the space to let that thought sink in, but you craved the freedom so you didn’t let that sit too long. You came here to build your own memories; no room for regrets now. So, the first thing you decide to acclimate yourself with is the closest liquor store and that is how you met Hannah.

The first thing you hear after getting lost reading a wine label is a loud oof before slamming into somebody. You only barely managed to catch the bottle before it became one with the outdated tile.

“I am SO sorry! I’m not even going to lie to you I was not watching where I was going. Are you okay? You didn’t drop anything did you?”

You manage to form a sentence between your scrambled apologies in between. The first thing you notice when you look at the face standing in front of you is how pretty she is. That typical blonde hair and blue eyes type that reminds you of the girls you went to high school with. You wince. Stop it.

“Oh, I’m okay! It was more the residual shock of it really. You must really need that bottle because you were just about ready to run me over in your pursuit to the cash register. Cheating ex or bad date?”

She says with a laugh while pointing at the wine still in your hand. Oh, she’s nice. You immediately feel guilty for that initial judgment when first looking at her.

“Oh, neither. I just moved here and need sustenance to unpack. Who knew you could fit your entire life into boxes?” You mirror her laugh.

“I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone. Walk around the neighborhood and find the necessities which is how I ended up here.” You say with a twirl in your finger.

"Ah, the one down the street that's just begging to be demolished?" She says while snapping her fingers with a mischievous smile.

"Hey, don't talk about her like that. She's old, but she's got character." You can't help the lopsided grin you give her. She hasn't even seen the dream kitchen with those beautiful green cabinets.

“Hey, well if you need help with that-“ her eyes shifting to the bottle, “I live right down the street so I can come over. I know moving somewhere unfamiliar can be a little daunting especially if you’re alone.” You can’t help the wide smile forming at her sweet gesture.

“And to help me unpack right?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I mean I’m better at draining a bottle, but if it’s necessary I will work for food and drinks. But, if I’m going to help you we are going to need way more than that.”

She finishes her sentence grabbing more bottles while traveling through the aisles. The sound of you’ve got to try this one and this one’s local in between aisle changes filling the store. You assure her that she is not off the hook with helping even with the promise of the “best merlot you’ve ever had in your life.”

Bags filling both of your hands and way too much alcohol for just two people to consume you make your way up the steps. Hannah pauses and looks up at the house.

“I was right. It should have been demolished. Will the porch cave in before I make it inside?” She says with skepticism at the foundation of your new home.

“Probably eventually but-“ you turn around to face her, “she’ll last for now. Come on, I haven’t even showed you the best part!”

You open your door and make your way inside leaving the door open for her to follow. You faintly hear from the kitchen “I seriously doubt that”, and you can’t help your chuckle at the remark.

You’ve always wanted a fixer upper; probably from all the HGTV shows you immersed yourself in as a child and the fact you’ve only ever lived in apartments. The first and only thing you managed to unpack first was your wine glasses. You definitely made a point to label them in big writing while packing up back home. A decision you are patting yourself on the back for now.

“So, do you like pizza? I know a good place. Pizza and wine should always be paired with move-in days. Oh, you’re right. This is probably the only good part of your house.”

Hannah leaned on the counter next you before shifting to test the weight taking in the scene of your kitchen.

“Love pizza. It’s not there yet, but I definitely have some plans with it; starting with keeping the color of those cabinets.”

In between sips of your glasses of wine you start to collaborate over your ideas of making it functional and aesthetically pleasing.

It didn’t take very long to start building friendships with the people in your area. You even started joining Sunday brunches and you were overly ecstatic finding out that bottomless mimosas existed. They didn’t have these at the diners back home. They even started assisting you with choosing paint swatches and going to Home Depot because you just had try that DIY project of making your own lounge chair that you found scrolling on Youtube.

“I think your measurements are a little off.”

Alex, probably one of your favorites of the group, mirrors the tilt of your head with his arms crossed. He co-owns a woodworking business with his husband so you wanted him there for any adjustments and moral support. Unfortunately for you, he wanted you to learn first which really meant fail.

You grimace at your handiwork and say, “yeah, I think maybe I should stick with what I’m good at.”

With a breathy laugh he adds, “give yourself some credit. You managed to tear up the carpet in the living room AND still able to keep the original hardwood. That’s no easy feat.”

You’ve somehow managed to create a whole support system in the little time that you’ve spent here. You’ve finally had the time and resources to create your own little touches that make your house now a home.

“Hannah, can’t we just stay in tonight? I’ve already been defeated twice by the light fixture in the living and my fingers are still tingling from the faulty power box. I’m really not in the mood.”

You give her the biggest puppy eyes you can manage while exaggeratingly lifting you fingers.

“Oh no, you’re going out to the bar tonight. You’ve been here for months and you really need to get yourself out there. You’re hot. Own it. Besides, it’s just you and me so there’s no pressure.”

She says with a swat to your ass and a push towards your closet. The only response you can add to that is Hmph.

The bar is nice enough with the dim lighting and it’s not so loud that you can’t hear yourself talk. Hannah insisted you wear one of your nicer dresses, but you wanted to feel like yourself so you opted for a t-shirt tucked into light wash jeans. If you were going to meet anyone tonight you wanted to set the standard for anything that could happen at the start. You’re still nursing your second beer while Hannah is on her third shot of the night. You feel a presence to your right and a sharp pinch to your thigh on your left. Hannah is of course attempting to alert you to the attractive man on the other side of you as if you didn’t notice. You turn around with a pained look on your face to her which she just shrugs off before making herself scarce.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Your attention is brought back to the man to your right. He is very cute in a boyish kind of way and you briefly wonder if he’s talking to someone else. He’s dressed like he just got out of a business meeting, but his rolled sleeves are definitely doing something for you.

“Sure. What’s your name?” You say with the flirtiest smile you can muster.

“Joey. Nice to meet you.”

God, his smile must do wonders for his conquests. It’s working for you quite honestly. You completely lose track of time talking to him and see out of the corner of your eye Hannah leaving the bar holding onto a man with salt and pepper hair and scruff. Looks like she got lucky too. She gives you a wink as she walks out the door and you look to see where he was sitting in case you need to remember faces. Seems like he was out with some of his friends, but you didn’t get a thorough look because your attention is immediately brought back to Joey. You set a reminder for yourself to check in with her before you go to bed tonight.

It’s been a constant date after date and you were really beginning to develop feelings for him. Sure, you always tried to convince him you didn’t need to be wooed with all these extravagant dates. You were just happy to spend time with him. You didn’t need to go to a fancy restaurant to tell you that. It just wasn’t your style, but it made him happy so you went along with it. You had initially assumed him to be a one night stand, but you were pleasantly surprised to hear from him the next day asking to take you out dinner.

Your muscles in your stomach are straining from how hard you’re laughing at America’s Funniest Home Videos on the TV. Joey is sitting next to you on the couch with takeout cartons loitered all over your coffee table. The living room is starting to lose its natural lighting due to the day coming to a close; the only light source in the room being the lamp sitting on the end table next to the couch and the glow from the TV. You notice Joey looking at you with a far off look.

“What’s wrong?” You ask with a furrow in your brow. “Nothing.” His face shifting to a more pleasant tone once he turns back to the TV. The two of you had settled into a routine at your house. You had even introduced him to your friends and they really seemed to enjoy spending time with him. It was easy for them to fall for his charms as you did.

“Come on, hurry up. You’re supposed to be helping me pick out an outfit for tonight!”

Hannah still continued to see the man from the bar, Santi, his friends called him.

“If I’m supposed to be helping you pick an outfit then why are we in the lingerie section?” You ask with a sly grin on your face.

“That’s for after, of course. Gotta keep it interesting.”

Her laugh followed by her adding some bras and panties to her hands. You agreed to come with her tonight to officially meet him and his friends. You’ve heard enough about him from her. Some very intimate details as well. They weren’t exactly exclusive to each other and as far as you knew they were dating other people which you respected. You were nervous about meeting them, but you knew it was only a matter of time until Hannah would want to do this. You trusted her judgment and you were already comfortable that it was going to be in the bar you usually ventured out to.

In her words, “your only forms of entertainment can’t just be your home projects, Joey and me, you know? You deserve to have fun too and these guys will show you a good time I promise” while ringing up her purchases.

You barely manage to make it through the door of the bar before you feel a breeze next to you from her speeding to Santi with a kiss. You lovingly shake your head at her dramatic antics and make your way over to the table. It’s a little awkward at first since Hannah still had yet to let go of the man sitting next to her and you didn’t know how to start a conversation with these men with what was going on next to you.

“Sorry. I’m Santi, but everyone calls me Pope.”

He reaches over to shake your hand with a tone that is definitely not apologetic at all, but you find it amusing. You like him already. You can definitely see why Hannah was interested, but not your type.

He starts introducing his friends off to you. Will. He seems like the more mellow type of the group and his call sign is Ironhead. Benny is just Benny since he’s the baby of the group.

“He’s the menace of all of us so watch out for this one.” Will ruffles his brother’s hair for added measure which Benny recoils from.

Then, Frankie, they call him Catfish. Oh he’s handsome, but not in the boyish way that Joey is. He’s handsome in a more ruggish kind of way and you can’t seem to break eye contact from him. Your eyes don’t know where to go first so they travel from his deep brown eyes, to the bare patches on the beard he can’t seem to grow that you find yourself wanting to kiss, and to the curls peeking out of his standard heating oil hat. You find yourself itching to take that hat off and run your fingers through the nape of his hair. Stop. He’s the more reserved one in the group which makes sense since he really hasn’t fully spoken more than a few words at a time to you. You can’t control the side glances you keep shooting at him throughout the night. You’re just appreciating the view and maybe conjuring up a few very much domestic fantasies in your head. Liar.

You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom to get a grip on your emotions. Tilting your head at your reflection you point an accusing finger “get yourself together. You ca—.“ You jump at the intrusion of an elderly woman walking into the otherwise empty bathroom; a quizzical look forming on her face from your actions. Your nervous laugh gets the best of you. “It isn’t what it- I don’t always do this.” You’re not sure why you feel the need to explain yourself since she’s already closed the stall before you even got the chance to finish your sentence. You find yourself even more flustered leaving the bathroom than before going into it. This is going to be a long night.

***

Frankie was nervous when Santi first told him that Hannah would be bringing a friend. He remembers you from the night Santi first left with her. How could he forget? You had his attention the moment you stepped into the bar, but by the time he finally worked up the nerve to talk to you another guy had already swooped in. It wasn’t that surprising considering and it was probably for the best. He really wasn’t in any headspace to be in a relationship. His eyes followed you when you left to go to the bathroom in a hurry and he could just feel Santi’s eyes burning into him. He knew. You were exactly his type and he hoped to whoever was up above that he would just leave him to his hopeless crush without interfering.

***

You sit down at the table preparing to come up with some segway into the conversation between everyone when Santi breaks it with a loud clap calling your name out. “So, are you seeing anyone?”

You miss the glare that Frankie shoots him and the embarrassed groan he makes. You don’t miss the warning tone Will gives when calling Santi’s name out, but you get the feeling you’re not entitled to know what that’s about.

“Yes, I am.” Why does it feel so wrong to say that? “His name is Joey.” Hannah chimes in while rubbing Santi’s shoulders.

You also miss the sight of Frankie’s shoulders deflating at that piece of information. Your answer seems to satisfy Santi since he drops it after that and moves on to a different topic. “Benny, when’s your next fight?” It’s Friday apparently and all the guys along with Hannah are going to support him.

Will shifts towards you and says, “you can come if you want.” You cringe on the inside; your insecurities getting the best of you. If you want. They’re only inviting you because you’re there at the moment. “Maybe.” You won’t.

Somehow, Hannah has convinced you to go out with them a second time. “Come on, you can bring Joey since you’re so nervous! Please bring him,” she says with pleading eyes.

“I’m not nervous!” Liar. There is a sliver of truth to her statement, but you don’t want to tell her the reason for your nerves is seeing Frankie again. Yet here you were sitting in a booth with Joey across from Hannah and the rest of the guys.

“Jesus Hannah, he’s not going anywhere.”

You say with a loud laugh at her not so subtle PDA with Santi. “Sorry.” She said with a swipe of trying to remove her lipstick from Santi’s face; her smile never leaving her face. Frankie hasn’t looked at you at all tonight and you can’t help but wonder what you did wrong. You see those eyes crinkle and that cute dimple when he’s dedicating his attention to everyone else at the table, but disappears when his eyes go in your general direction.

At some point the guys and Hannah walk off to buy more drinks leaving you with Joey. He’s hasn’t hid his disinterest of the night at all even when the guys were trying to include him.

“Why are you so grumpy?” “I’m not.” His deep sigh a dead giveaway to his sour mood. “I’m just not vibing with them that’s all.” His eyes following the guys by single file line as he said it. You assure him that you can leave soon which after an hour or so you do.

Tonight’s events must have tired you out more than you thought because you’re fighting yawns the entire ride to Joey’s apartment. You don’t usually spend time here since he prefers staying at your place, but his place was a lot closer to the bar. The minute you walk inside you walk straight to his bedroom so you can promptly pass out as Joey showers. As you start to pull back the blankets something catches your eye. That’s not mine. Your heart rate is starting to speed up at the thought that’s forming in your mind. You reach down and grab a bra that was haphazardly thrown on the floor. The thing is you’d recognize that bra anywhere because you were there when she bought it; the day you were meeting Santi for the first time. You almost didn’t hear the water being shut off in the bathroom and the footsteps coming into the bedroom.

“Hey, what’s goin o—“

His eyes follow where you’re looking and then back up to your face. He’s not even trying to defend himself or come up with some shitty excuse that wouldn’t work anyway.

“How long?” Your voice is barely managing to stay steady while still staring at the incriminating evidence of your betrayal.

“How long, Joey?” His hesitation gives you your answer. It’s been a while.

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themessengercrow · 3 years

Text

Tenya’s patience

prohero!tenyaxgn!reader

warnings: Dacryphilia, smut, brat taming, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, finger fucking, toys, the use of ‘sir’, mirror sex.

You thought that was it, the last straw. You’ve been tempting Tenya all day, teasing and fucking around with him around every corner. Feeling a little extra needy lately due to your boyfriend constantly stuck with his hero work-you figured maybe he was just as pent up. But somehow-each and every time-he still keeps his composure. You had sat on his lap this time around, knees straddling his thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “You’re probably so bored-aren’t you” You faked a sympathy pout, ruffling your hands through his hair. He just tilted his head and gave you that warm smile he always does. “You wanted to spend some time together-i’d never get bored of spending time with you. Whether it's just watching this movie and cuddling or anything else '' He hummed, giving you a kiss on your forehead. You huffed and turned in his lap, leaning your back against his chest and sinking into his embrace.

It wasn’t until halfway through the movie that you had gotten bored, a bit bolder with your actions and decided to grind down on tenyas lap. He immediately stiffened up under you, his arms that were originally loosely wrapped around your waist quickly tightened around you, holding you down against his chest. You smirked and rolled your hips, hearing him take in a sharp breath “Are you sure you still want to watch the movie sir?” You went to look over your shoulder at Tenya but before you realized it the world spun and now you were face down on the couch. A hard smack to your ass was followed by tenya massaging the area he had smacked. “I would have liked to but it seems my little whore needs to be put in place.” His hand massaging your ass shifted to hold you by your waist, his free hand looped under your body to wrap around your throat, pulling you up so your back laid flush against his chest. “I was waiting for after the movie but you’ve given me no choice. You know the rules.” A shiver ran down your spine, trying to bite your tongue as one more cheeky retort was shot out “No, do remind me” You smirked. Tenya rose an eyebrow at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He moved closer, shifting you slightly so he could capture your lips. Foolishly you decided to let your guard down-tenyas kisses always had a way of stealing your breath away yet making you feel so so warm. He started to squeeze your throat, cutting off the circulation to your head and making you dizzy with the added lack of air from your kiss.

Tenya pulled away and used the hand that was holding your waist moved to unbutton your pants “Rule Number One- No talking back.” He slides his hand down into your underwear, and begins toying with you. Stars started to crawl across your vision and Tenya finally loosened his grip, finally letting you breathe. “I'll give you a free be this once because this will be a new rule. Rule Number ten- You listen to every word I say and you will finish after I tell you the rule. You’ll finish on my fingers and my fingers only. When you finish you need to repeat the rule so I know you learned it this time-understood? This will be your punishment everytime you question the ruling.” A bright red blush shot to your face as you gulped. You know you’re fucked.

When Tenya meant you would finish on his fingers and only his fingers he really meant it. While yes at some point Tenya brought a vibrator in because you “came too quick between rules 4 to 6” he would constantly keep it at a low thrum, slowly bringing you to the edge and then pulling the toy away. He could feel how your walls pulsed around his fingers, aching for something more. You finally made it up to Rule nine, grateful you were almost done with this torture. He had brought you back to the bedroom where a large mirror attached to the ceiling hung down, showing off your teary eyes and shaking legs as tenya brings you to the brink of orgasm once more before pulling away the vibrator again, slowing his fingers down to a near halt, pulling a cry out of you. You were close to sobbing at this point, whimpering and mumbling the words “I'm sorry sir, i'll behave now sir.” He loved it when he’s got you fucked so dumb all you know is how to plead and beg to him. You turn into such a good little hole for him. You whined and try rolling your hips, trying to look anywhere else but up at the mirror. Tenya took note of this, dropping the vibrator and using the free hand to grab your chin and force your head to look up as he moved you morre into his lap. He was still dressed up from work, not in a hero costume but more of a business attire with a nice button up and pair of black pants. He still looked so tidy and yet, looking at yourself you were a disheveled mess. You hadn't realized it but there were a few stray tears falling-mostly dried now. You looked between your legs in the mirror and whined, trying to rub your thighs together, roll your hips-get any sort of friction. Tenya chuckled, a small smile resting on his face. “Come now, I think you deserve it. Don’t break eye contact, do you understand?” your eyes immediately shifted to tenyas glaring red ones. You let out a moan as he immediately started fucking his fingers up into you. The arm encasing you against tenyas chest keeps you from arching your back too far-watching tenyas the entire time. You ended up winding down to incoherent babbling, begging for your permission to release yet not entirely ready for another wave of pleasure. “Go on my little citrus. Come for me.” His fingers hit that soft spot in you and all you could see was the ruby red of tenyas eyes as your body spasmed with pleasure. “Look at yourself” Tenya murmured into your neck and as you blinked the spots from your vision you looked at the wreck of a person you became. You ended up soaking the sheets the entire time he played with you, more tears streamed down your face “What do you see?” You hummed and you sniffled, trying to catch your breath “A-A dirty mess-” Tenya clicked his tongue and looked up into your eyes “Call yourself gorgeous.” You went to turn your head to look at him in the face but he tightened his grip on your chin, forcing you to keep your gaze up. “Look at the mirror and say it.” He growled. Your fucked out brain went blank, looking back up at yourself “I-Im gorgeous.” Your voice shook a little, voice raw from all the squealing and moaning you’ve been doing the past hour.

He shifted you in his lap to face him “Now look at me and say it” There was still a small part of you, trying to look away, trying to keep your face down as you mumbled. He grabbed your chin again, forcing you to look at him. “I said look at me. How can I know you’re being honest if you dont look me in the eye? This is part of your punishment. He shifted you so his thigh held you up between your legs and moved his other hand to squeeze your throat again “You and I both know you know damn well what the rules are. And if you do what you're told, I'll give you a reward.” He finally unzipped his pants, freeing his cock. “Now look me in the eye and say it.” He loosened his hold on your throat, allowing you to speak “Im-mm-goegeous” You shuddered, even with your fucked out state you were trying so hard not to grind down on his thigh. “Insatiable...but you’re correct-absolutely undeniably gorgeous.” He murmured, pulling you closer to him to kiss at your neck, raising you up to hover you over his keep “Now Keep going. I want to hear more about yourself while I fuck your tight little hole.” @izukus-bby You wanted a tag right my friend?

#I enjoy my eggs sunnyside up #bnha smut #tenya smut #bnha #bnha tenya iidea #dinkepinkle

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jenomark · 4 years

Text

Member: Jaehyun | Genre: Smut 18+ | Word Count: 1,727

“Go flirt with him.” was the consensus. Your group of friends looked at you expectantly, each slightly drunk face filled with the idea that getting sex from a stranger was better than no sex at all.

You, who was sober, would rather sink into your chair and disappear than approach someone who wasn’t paying you any mind. Still, you got your big girl panties on and rose to the occasion. Once on your feet and making your way towards the gentlemen sitting alone at the bar, you realized you couldn’t go through with it. Instead, you made a beeline towards the other end of the bar and sat in a stool.

It’s not that you didn’t want to get laid. You did. You wanted it badly. You wanted a man to take you home and destroy your insides, or whatever girls who had one-night-stands said about dick. Annihilate me. You fantasized about marching straight up to the man at the bar and giving him your best “I-want-sex” eyes, pushing your tits up and out like they were ready to be motorboated.

You looked at the man you were meant to approach be approached by another girl. You sighed and rested your head on your hand. At least someone in the bar is getting railed tonight, you thought.

“Are you thirsty?” a voice asked.

You looked up and made eye contact with the bartender. His handsomeness made you feel ugly. You looked away from his eyes and tried not to think about how he looked in his white t-shirt with the blue apron tied around his waist. You heard him laugh, just a little chuckle that somehow made you feel irritated.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” he asked.

You pointed at something over his shoulder, the attitude present in your voice. “I would like that, and I would like it with ice, please.”

When he didn’t speak back to you, you were forced to look at him. Seeing the dimples on his smiling face made your armpits all sweaty. You shifted in your stool, trying your best to look as unaffected as possible.

He leaned his elbows down on the bar and said, “You can have me any way you like.”

That’s all you remembered at the end of the night. You had talked to him for hours, saying goodbye to each of your friends as they left before closing. Each one of them had looked excitedly at you, giving a thumbs up in your direction, a slight expression of unbelievability on their faces. Maybe you were thinking what they all thought, that the hottie at the bar was way out of your league. Maybe you didn’t care.

On the taxi ride home, you made out in the backseat. His hands were strong and sturdy. The way he held your head made you swoon. In between the whispers and laughter, you had time to register that you were soaking wet. Once you arrived at his place, it was too hard to slow down.

“This is where I live.” he said, kicking the door shut with his foot. Your tongue was in his mouth, so anything else he wanted to explain was swallowed.

You bumped into a table, knocking over something with a crash. If he didn’t care to see what it was, you didn’t either. There were so many obstacles on your way to his bedroom that he just picked you up in his arms and let you dangle there, like a ragdoll, setting you down only when you made it to the safety of his bedroom.

“And this is where I sleep.” he said.

“Yeah, I don’t care.” you said, pawing at him again. You were so horny that you’d have fucked anywhere, but he was adamant that his home was the best place.

He laughed into your kiss, or rather, your attack on his face. He pulled you apart from him and held your wrists with one of his hands. His face was covered in your lipstick, the red smearing all the way down his neck, too. Although his eyes were dark with lust, there was such a light to the way he looked at you that made you stop.

“You saved me from looking like a fool tonight. Thanks for the favor.” you said.

“And you don’t even know my name.” he said.

“I felt your erection, I think we’re past learning names.”

“It’s Jaehyun.” he said, sincerity etched on his face.

“Jaehyun,” you said, pulling your wrists away from him and wrapping them around his neck. “Did you mean it before? Can I have you any way I like?”

He didn’t answer, just grabbed the back of your head and pulled you to him for a kiss. When he let go, you were so lust-drunk that you felt powerful. Jaehyun removed his white t-shirt, which made you put your hands together to pray. You were thankful for the man before you, his abs, and his pretty face. You couldn’t wait. You pounced on him, holding onto him as you both felt onto his bed. You grinded yourself into him, delighting at the way his jeans were straining with the pressure of his dick. You kissed his chest, letting your fingers play in the light dusting of hair. He put his hands behind his head, a slight cockiness to the action. You sidled down his body and kissed all the way to the waistband of his jeans. On God, you would suck the life out of him.

As if a lightbulb went on in your head, you sat up. You made sure he felt the weight of your bottom on top of his hard dick. “You’re getting too much pleasure out of this.”

“I am.”

You got off of him and rolled onto your back. “No. I think I deserve the special treatment tonight.”

“What happened to all the thanks you were paying me?” he asked.

It was brazen, for sure. But Jaehyun was all too happy to play along. He got up. His hands were on the hooks of your jeans where the belts go. He yanked you towards him, smiling cockily as you moved easily across the bed. You weren’t the most weightless person in the world, but the way Jaehyun moved you was effortless. He began paying attention to your body. It was like his life depended on it. His hands were roughly undoing your jeans and trying to get to the treasure underneath. His mouth was on your neck, leaving what you were sure were hickeys. You thought you would come just from anticipation alone.

When Jaehyun had finally gotten you how he wanted you, you felt embarrassed to be so bare in front of him. He dove in and ate you out, spreading your lips gently with his fingers, and maintaining eye contact with you. It was like he was hungry, his tongue and mouth coming together to feast upon you. When you threw your arm over your eyes to shield yourself, Jaehyun pulled it away so that you could see him. He ate you out to prove to you that he could and would do it. By the time you were reveling in your own orgasm, he had wrapped his dick up and had kept the momentum up with his fingers. Your legs were shaking.

“Do you always sleep with random men at bars?“ he asked.

“Just the ones who hit on me first.”

He rubbed his dick up and down your pussy lips. You were starting to feel addicted to the taste and touch of him again. You leaned up and he met you halfway, kissing you as he sunk deep into you. You sucked in a breath and laid back down, your throat exposed enough for Jaehyun to lightly clasp his hand around it. You lifted your knees up and let him fuck you nice and slow, the squeak of the bed drawing you closer and closer. You moaned loudly and wildly, ignoring his little smirk as he thrusted harder. He got such an intense look on his face that you thought was cute. You covered his hand around your throat with your own and watched him concentrate on fucking you right.

Jaehyun released your throat and pushed your legs, shifting your body to the right. He slapped your ass and kept thrusting, holding down your hips with both hands. He grunted so deeply you swore you could feel the vibrations. He was restless and wanted to keep moving you and switching positions. He opened your legs and pulled you closer to him so that you were hanging halfway off the bed. He leaned lower to fuck you faster, reaching out to hold your hands as he did.

This is much better than I thought my night would go, you thought.

Jaehyun came first. You were really wishing you could have felt it inside of you, the warmth and the wet. You laid with your legs spread wide, just watching him release his cum. He was breathing heavily, looking down at your body and re-noticing it for the first time. You reached up and touched his chest, petting him to support him.

After all was spilled, he took himself out and disposed of the condom. You were getting ready to close your legs and clean yourself up, but Jaehyun parted your thighs. You hadn’t come from the penetration alone, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t felt good. Jaehyun’s fingers were inside of you, fucking you in place of his dick. He licked at your clit and fingered you, moaning into your pussy as he closed his lips around you.

He lifted his head. “Come on, Come on.”

Fingers were moving faster, tongue moving slower. You arched your back and let your pussy contract around his fingers. You sucked in your stomach and moaned, letting your body succumb to the tongue that had went back to taste you, again and again. You could feel yourself burst around his hand, the slickness making it easier for him to move. After you had come, Jaehyun kissed the inside of your thigh and brought himself beside you on his bed.

Instead of kissing you, he held up his fist for you to fist bump. “Do that again in a few?”

You nodded and tried catching your breath. “Fuck yes.”

#jaehyun #jaehyun smut #nct #nct smut #nct jaehyun #nct 127 smut #jung jaehyun #member: jaehyun

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marsbutterfly · 3 years

Note

Hi are you taking requests?

If you are could I make a request for a smutty imagine with reiner where he and his s/o gets in to a fight over her busy schedule and they end up making up through some steamy sex? 😏

Second Request: I definitely think reiner would be a rough sex kinda guy. Maybe you could write smutty fic about him having a nasty argument with his wifey and they make up in the bedroom 💦👀

Note: I hope you don't mind I joined your requests, I thought they would go together quite nicely. I put a lot of effort into this story, so you guys like it PLEEEASE let me know. I'm not confident in my smut writing and your feedback always helps!

WARNING: NSFW!

Perfect Timing

Summary: As you bury yourself in work, Reiner wants to bury himself in you.

Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version!

The pile of papers in front of you seems to be getting bigger by the second somehow. For the past few hours, you've been confined to your room, filling report after report, ensuring all precautions are being taken for the next expeditions.

Commander Erwin has been requesting your help for these past few weeks, something having to do with all Squad Leaders and most soldiers catching some strange viral disease and not being able to do their job properly or at all.

Putting the pen down, you use your thumb to gently rub the center of your dominant hand. You can feel a few blisters forming and the muscle starting to hurt. A pained sigh escapes your body as you recline on the chair, looking at the ceiling.

Feeling like you're forgetting something, you look around the nearly empty room until your eyes lay upon the calendar hanging on the wall and you are hit with the realization that you have stood Reiner up yet again.

You slap your forehead before rushing out of the small room. Rushed footsteps and heavy breathing fill the empty headquarters ' halls.

Aggressively knocking on the door, you wait for him to open it. A cold chill going down your spine as he emerges from the inside, an enraged look in his eyes as he crosses his arms against his chest.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, not find enough courage to say anything else. All you can do is look down at your feet while digging your nails onto your hands, so intensely it almost draws blood.

He rolls his eyes at you and arches an eyebrow. "What was it? The 4th time in a row?"

You nod, hurt by the tone of his voice but also understanding where he is coming from, "I got caught up and lost track of time." Your voice dies in your throat halfway through the sentence. His eyes don't leave you even for a second.

"There's always something." He replies before taking a few steps backward, opening enough space for you to enter. Darkness takes over his own with the exception of a small lantern resting on his bedside table, right next to a small book.

You walk past him, the smell of food faintly present in the room. An overwhelming feeling of guilt washing over you as pay close attention to the burned out candles and a simple bouquet of flowers resting in a vase with water by the window.

With barely an ounce of courage, you look up and lock your eyes on his. "I'll make it up to you."

"No, you won't." He calmly but terrifyingly says, his voice in a lower tone than usual. Reiner's arms remain crossed against his chest but his right foot now stands against the wall. He allows his head to fall back as he look up at the ceiling, avoiding your gaze.

"Don't say that." You whisper, a tremble present in your voice. You open your mouth to speak again but not a sound comes out, rather a deep breath closely followed by a cloud of steam. You wrap your arms around your body, gently rubbing up and down your arms in an attempt to keep yourself warm.

"You are never here." Reiner breaks the silence, the anger in his eyes never disappearing. "I learned how to cook just for you."

"And I really appreciate that!" You say, extending your hand in the hopes that you will be able to touch him, but he is barely out of your reach.

"Clearly not enough." He yells. Silence takes over the room yet again as both of you avoid sharing any looks.

A tear rolls down your cheek as you stand up, "Fuck you, Reiner."

In a second, you feel his body pressing yours against the wall, his hand grabbing a fist full of your hair as he pulls it gently, forcing you to look up at the ceiling, "I dare you to say that again."

A smile growing on your lips as you cling onto the sides of his shirt, "Fuck," you whisper, feeling his lips as they plant eager kisses alongside your jawbone.

"You" You continue, your arm gently slows down to his pants as you grab the outline of his dick. A gasp escapes his lips as he continues to nib your skin, leaving small, red marks along the way.

"Reiner." His name falls from your lips with ease as you unbuckle his belt. A devious smile imprinted on his face, you feel his right hand excitedly grabbing your boob. His thumb gently rubs against your nipple and you gasp for a second.

Pulling him closer, you destroy all the distance between you two in an anger filled kiss. He eagerly explores your mouth as you nibble the tip of his tongue.

In a second, his belt loudly hits the floor and you pull his pants down, underwear and all. Your knees touch the cold, wooden floor faster than you've ever known to be possible. His dick twitching in front of you, vigorously awaiting to feel the warmth of your mouth.

With your dominant hand, you happily oblige by stroking him eagerly, attentively watching as his chest rises, working hard to make as little noise as he can, even going as far as to cover his mouth with his hand, but failing miserably.

Sturdyngly holding his cock into place, you wrap your tongue around the pinkish tip, making small, saliva filled circles along the way. You notice how tender he is to your touch so quickly you decide to take advantage of your situation, now using your lips to take the edge of his dick into your mouth.

Teasingly, you remove him out of your mouth, a "pop" sound following closely behind. You shift your eyes up, meeting his halfway there. A pout appears on his face and you smirk at him, a string of saliva connecting your bodies.

"Come on." He says through clenched teeth. You roll your eyes at him but decide to oblige to his request yet again.

Your tongue travels from the tip of his massive cock all the way to the base as you take your free hand towards his balls, massaging them gently. In a swift move, you can feel half of his length in your mouth.

Bobbing your head up and down, he grunts quietly before using your hair that is still wrapped around his fist to force himself down your throat. You gag as you feel him touching your uvula, but thankfully are able to hold it down.

Small drops of saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth onto your shirt, leaving small stains where they land. Moans leaving your throat as you feel your wetness soaking your underwear.

The feeling of Reiner's cock in your mouth drives you near insanity. The simple thought of having him inside you is enough to force you to take your hand and place it in your underpants, using your middle and ring finger to rub circles around your clit.

Allowing him to set the pace, you remove your hand from his cock and place it on his thigh, firmly digging your nails onto his pale skin. The room is filled by the wet sounds coming from your mouth and his grunts.

Precum coats your tongue and, as it mixes with your saliva, it makes your movements easier than before. Your jaw hurts from all the effort, but you make sure to suck him harder every time you bring most of his length out of your mouth.

You can feel his dick pulsating in your mouth, a way of his body telling you he's getting close. Not hesitating, you easily slide two of your fingers inside your pussy, a loud gasp escaping your lips, vibrating against his cock.

His hips began moving, a way for him to feel more of your warm mouth against him. Somehow, he manages to hit deep inside your throat, your wide open lips leaving a wet mark against the skin of his pelvis.

Without a warning, you hear him loudly cursing and his cum shooting at the back of your throat. Not a second or a gag passes, and you swallow everything while you feel your body contracting against your fingers. As your body shakes from your own orgasm, you remove him from your mouth, only the remaining streak of saliva connects your bodies.

A satisfied smile sits on his face as he uses his left arm to pick your body up from the floor, quickly grabbing both sides of your jaw with one hand to pry it open.

"You swallowed everything, right?" He asks, carefully inspecting the inside of your mouth. You simply nod before he lets your face go.

His smile now curling onto a devious smirk, you feel his hands making their way towards your ass as Reiner picks you up and carries you towards the small table in the middle of the room.

He places you down and instantly removes his shirt while you work hard to take off every last piece of clothing that covers your body, completely exposing your soft, warm skin to him. His eyes filled with a tad of insanity, you feel his rough, yet delicate fingers slightly brushing against your sideboob.

"Ahh.." You moan as he uses his index finger and thumb to gently pinch your nipple. His mouth travelling from your jawline to your collarbone, a trail of wet kisses marking his path.

You hook your left hand around his neck, bringing Reiner closer to you while you use your right hand to touch his hard dick. He lets out a moan of his own before bringing his lips up to meet yours in a kiss filled with lust and a hunger you've never seen before.

Using his dominant hand, he touches the wet folds of your pussy, gently spreading them and making sure you're ready to take him in, but his touch is so gentle it almost feels like torture. Realization dawns on you as yet another moan escapes your lips: he wants you to beg for it.

"You are such an asshole." You whimper, feeling two of his fingers entering you in a painfully slow rhythm, a shit-eating grin never leaving his face as he curls his fingers inside you, spasms traveling through your body while yet another loud moan erupts from you.

"Wrong words." he says, you can feel his warm breath against your cold skin. His blonde hair contrasting with the pale moonlight and the minimum amount of light present in the room Your nails digg into his shoulder as you buck your hips forward, trying to get his fingers to go in deeper.

"Please, fuck me." You desperately plead. In that moment, your body is so hot it feels like it might melt away in his touch and the emptiness in your body is becoming unbearable, a feeling that would only disappear once Reiner was fully inside of you.

He nods, removing his fingers from your pussy and carefully rubbing them against your lips. Without a second thought, you run your tongue alongside his digits, instantly tasting yourself on them. This sight alone was nearly enough to drive Reiner over the edge.

He quickly positions himself in front of you, running small circles on your clit and drawing little whimpers out of you. As you wrap your legs around his waist, bringing your ass closer to the edge of the table, you feel his 8 inch cock inside of you.

An audible gasp escapes your throat. Both of your hands now rest behind your back, holding tight onto the edge of the table as Reiner begins to move his hips. He sets a slow pace at first, and you can tell he's enjoying watching your frustrated reactions.

Before you can begin to enjoy yourself, he pulls all the way out, leaving an empty space behind. He moves his hips, the tip of his dick sliding against your wet folds but never coming inside. A single frustrated tear forming in your eyes as you try to guide him.

Instead, his fingers make their way inside but barely down to the first knuckle. Reiner lets out a pleased giggle as watches your body contorting, its way of begging for him. You try not to show it, but it's written all over your face how badly you need to feel him.

As he pulls his digits out yet again, anger clouds your thoughts and you feel like you could yell at him right then and there.

"I said fuck me." You say, demanding more of his affection. He exhales through his nose quietly before grabbing your right thigh, leaving red marks along your skin as he digs his nails into you. You gasp at the gentle yet burning sensation of the scratches he leaves behind.

Reiner begins thrusting into you fast and hard, harder than usual. You tilt your head up, allowing it to hang as you look at the ceiling. A small drop of drool slides from your lips down to your jaw.

As the table jolts, he eagerly watches your boobs bouncing up and down, rhythmically following his movements. The room is rapidly filled by the sounds of your body coming in contact with his mixed with the moans and grunts that escape from both of you.

"Who do you belong to?" He asks, wrapping his hand around your neck and tightening it around either side of your throat, gently applying pressure. You softly gasp for air, a smile never leaving your face.

"To you, Reiner." You reply, feeling the wetness drip from your pussy, down your buttcrack, and onto the dark wooden table.

His cock slips in and out of you with ease, so you decide to make him work for it. Clenching your walls around him, you pay attention to the amount of effort he is putting into this, into making you feel good. His hand never leaves your neck and you hang your mouth open but no sound comes out.

"You are so fucking tight." He whispers against your ear. His warm breath brushing against your sweaty skin as you pay close attention to the way his chest moves as he breathes heavily. An instant passes before you bring your eyes down, watching as he brings himself almost entirely out and, in an instant, slams back into you.

Your grip on his shoulder starts to tighten and your toes begin to curl; he knows you're close. Lips turning dry before you run your tongue along them, you try to moisturize it but failing miserably once you realize most of your saliva has dripped from the corner of your mouth onto your neck and boobs.

"Come around my cock, baby." He says and his words alone are enough to drive you crazy. You involuntarily clench your pussy around his dick and lust takes over his eyes, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips as he lets out a moan of his own.

"Shit," He mumbles. As he hits your g-spot, you feel his cum filling you up and it's enough to bring out your own orgasm. You wrap both of your arms around his body, feeling his dick twitching inside of you, his hot cum dripping deep into you.

Before you have time to catch your breath, you pull him in for a sloppy kiss, carefully sucking on the tip of his tongue as he places both of his palms on the table, trying to find his balance. Separating your lips, you touch your mouth to his shoulder, biting it gently while hearing Reiner's breathless laugh.

You plan a kiss on his skin before whispering against it, "Lay on the bed."

"What?" He asks, his body shifts to further away from you, giving him the opportunity to look at your red face. A few strands of hair stay glued to your sweaty skin as you carefully bite your lower lip, trying your best to seduce him.

"Lay in bed." You repeat yourself, gently pushing him away from you, his dick finally leaving your body as a few drops of a sticky combination of his cum mixed with your wetness fall from your pussy to the ground, leaving small marks where they land.

Reiner quickly obliges, rushing himself towards the bed. Once his back touches the soft, white sheets, he puts left arm behind his neck, trying to support his head, but never once he stops looking at you.

As you approach him, you start sliding your fingers through the covers, moving so slowly you can feel the bumps of his mattress. Never breaking eye contact with him, your fingertips ruffle through dark blonde wisps of leg hair, and his warm skin contrasts with the cold air. You pay attention to the way goosebumps rise on his skin at your touch.

Continuing to make your way up, you eventually reach his dick, bringing a moan out of his throat. A smile on your lips, you place the palms of your hands on his chest before straddling him. Feeling his erection against your ass, you decide to take advantage of the situation.

Smoothly, you begin moving your hips, always making sure he can feel you moving but not enough to satisfy him in any capacity.

His eyes are filled with desire and lust yet his actions are gentle. His touch is desperate and his cock is still pulsating, from his previous orgasms and eagerness, but when his fingertips start touching your hip bones, you can almost feel electric waves of care traveling through your skin towards your heart.

Quickly, you take his cock in your hand, stroking it gently before gladly guiding it towards your wet pussy. The tip brushes against the wet hairs and lightly against your clit, a gasp for air comes out in response.

Once he takes position, you lower your hips, taking his entire length in. You curse under your breath as you feel your pussy stretching around him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head in extreme pleasure.

As you remember his previous teasing actions from a few minutes ago, you lift your body up, and his dick bouncing back against his stomach. He looks at you, both confused and frustrated. You smile at him while moving your hair around, tying it up on a messy bun, a few rebel strands sticking to your skin.

"It's not so fun being on the other side, is it?" You ask, placing him in between your wet folds before you begin moving up and down. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he tries to reach for your pussy, failing miserably as you interrupt him, holding his hand down.

He grunts gently while you use your free hand to stroke his cock, using your fluids as lubricant. It glides in your hand with ease, at times brushing against your soaked pubic hair. His breathing becomes shallow as you move your hand up and down, gently massaging his cock.

"Y/N, put me inside of you!" He begs, a desperate look in his eyes. You feel the vein on the side of his dick pulsating, his blood flowing more rapidly than usual. For a second, you allow him to rest inside of you, not enough for him to feel any release, but enough for him to get a taste of what expects him.

Desperation now takes over his mind to the point where he feels he's about to go insane once you wrap your hand around the tip of his cock, gently slapping it against your clit. Grunts escaping both of you, you notice his precum covering your hand and are hit with the realization that not even you can take it anymore.

You guide him yet again before feeling the entire length of his cock inside of you. Pleasure takes over you both as you move your head, making sure you have a better view of his face as you feel his eyes staring into yours. Hair falling from the bun and sticking to your drenched in sweat back.

"I love you." He says, slowly beginning to move his own hips. Your hands still rest on his chest, giving you enough support to move in response, rhythmically matching your movements to his.

The room is soon filled by the sound of his balls slapping against your ass and the loud banging of the bed against the wall. Your heavy breathing matches his as his hands travel through your body, making their way from your bouncing boobs to your hips and finally resting upon your ass.

Lowering your body for a second, you place a hand on his face tenderly, a smile on your face as you connect your lips. In that moment, Reiner could feel every ounce of your love for him. Pulling back, you stay mere centimeters away from him, never moving your hand away from his face.

You place your free hand against the wall, speeding up your movements while paying close attention to his reactions. He's furrowing his eyebrows and making sure to enjoy every second he gets to spend inside of you.

His nails now dig into your asscheek, leaving an imprint and reddish marks all over your skin. Once he begins hitting your cervix, you know it won't take long for you to come. The dim light shines on his face bringing out the color of his piercing eyes.

"S-shit." You mumble underneath your breath as you feel your orgasm washing over you. You clench your pussy around him, your muscles almost locking himself into place. Your legs tremble beside him while you curl your toes, eyes closed shut.

He raises his neck, wrapping his arm around you to hold you close, carefully placing your head on his shoulder. In an instant, you feel his warm cum filling you up yet again and it is enough to drive you to yet another orgasm. In silence, you share sweat drops and shallow breaths, trying to recompose yourselves.

Once you open your eyes again, you notice a tired yet bright smile on his face.

"I'm not done with you." You whisper and watch as he widens his eyes.

"What do you mean?" He asks, his dick still twitching inside of you, trying to calm itself down from his third orgasm of the night. In a swift move, you feel him leaving your body, an empty feeling taking his place.

Quickly, you take his cock into your hand and stroke it eagerly. He grunts as he feels your warm hand wrapping around him.

"I stood you up four times," You lower your voice yet again, coming close to his ear. Your dominant hand moving up and down in rapid movements, not giving him a second to breathe. "So it's only fair to make you come four times."

As Reiner looks at your face, he pays close attention to the devious smirk that has taken over your lips. His mind quickly goes blank as you quicken your pace, vigorously stroking his cock but always making sure he is enjoying himself.

Teasingly, you lower your body, touching his dick with your lips yet again. He twitches against your tongue as you taste yourself on him. The mixture of your pussy juice and his cum takes over your taste buds and you continue to stroke him, never once stopping your movements.

"F-fuck Y/N.." He manages to say in between his loud moans and gasps, "You're so good at this."

You can tell how sensible he is to your touch so you try to slow down, only to feel his desperate eyes lock on you. No words leave his mouth but you understand him loud and clear: keep going.

Once you allow him to slide down your tongue, touching the back of your mouth, you can taste more precum smoothly making its way down the head. A smirk is on your face when you remove him from your mouth, looking into his eyes again.

"Are you already gonna come again?" You ask, stroking small circles against the tip of his dick with your thumb. He squirms, nails digging into the mattress as he moves his hips, trying his best to feel as much of your touch as possible.

Before he even has time to say anything in return, his body seems to betray him as you feel the fruits of your labor touching your hand. Warm and white, much like the fluids leaking out of your recently stretched pussy.

Using his own cum, you draw a heart on his thighs, trying to clean your hand. You smile at him and realize his skin looks a little more pale than usual. Worryingly, you rush out of bed to grab him a glass of water, trying to make sure he is at least hydrated.

As you hand him the cup, laughter bursts out of him, almost as if you just told him the funniest joke in the world. You look at Reiner, a confused expression taking over your features.

"Please don't stand me up again," He sits up, taking a few quick sips while trying to catch his breath, "I don't think it's possible for me to come any more than this."

You shrug your shoulders, laughing at his charming stupidity. Carefully, you lay above his body again, making sure you aren't hurting him in any way. As you place your head on his chest, he wraps his arms around you. One hand carefully playing with your hand as the other hugs you close.

In the silent room, you can clearly hear his heart beating and a sense of calm washes over you.

"I promise not to forget another one of our dates." You say, your lips move gently moving against his skin, tickling him a bit.

"Please don't." He whispers in return, "I genuinely don't think I can handle another one of these sessions."

"Maybe we can raise that number to five soon." You respond as he feels a smirk forming on the corner of your lips.

"Oh lord." is the last thing he says before closing his eyes, allowing his body to relax and finally being able to go to sleep.

You smell the candles in the room and the smell of his sweaty skin. Reiner has been nothing but loving and understanding from the very beginning and your love for him only grows with each passing day.

In his arms, you feel safer than you have ever felt and before being drifted to sleep yourself, you quietly whisper against his skin, "I love you too."

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