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moonriseoverkyoto · 5 months

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Whistle while you work

Synopsis - sometimes all a little lass needs is to just holler the lyrics of an angry female-empowering country music, but a certain beloved Scot just can’t help but be worried he screwed up

cw: swearing, medical and military workplace inaccuracies, playful language, suggestive content, heavy flirting, slight miscommunication trope(this hurts me more than this hurts you believe me), nicknames, use of Scottish and southern(Georgia/texas) accent that some readers may find corny or displeasurable

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x southern!medic!reader

Author’s note: I know I said I was busy but I heard “Before He Cheats” by Carrie Underwood come on the radio and it’s been an ear worm that sticking to my brain like flies on a horse. But once again I’m here to remind you that I’m taking southern notes from Georgia and Texas because I was raised in one and I visit family quite often in the other. I am completely open to constructive criticism but if you have nothing nice to say then you just scroll past it costs you absolutely nothing to mind your business. Italicized is singing btw.

©️moonriseoverkyoto 2023. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

Soap had begun to have a routine with you. He could often come visit you after shift hours or you would come along on missions and be his first pit stop at base. It was a beautiful little arrangement that the F1F begun to adore. You were the warm fire to warm their cold hearts or the blazing hearth to whip them into shape if they got rowdy. So it was a little jarring to him when he strolled into your clinic and heard an angry drawl.

“Right now, he's probably slow dancin' with a bleach-blonde tramp. And she’s probably gettin’ frisky.”

Your voice had him weak at the knees but there was something off in your pitch. A grit, an anger, a frustration. He suddenly began retracing his steps, trying to find a failure placed upon his behalf.

“Right now, he's probably buyin' her some fruity little drink 'Cause she can't shoot whiskey.”

“Bonnie?” the man called out to you, his reaction was controlled but his heart thumped against his chest trying to break out. When you didn’t respond he decided to stay by the doors out of your vision to figure out what was the issue, studying you.

“Right now, he's probably up behind her with a pool stick. Showin' her how to shoot a combo. And he don't know”

Your hips began to sway against the rising tune and even in your scrubs, there was a clear muscle memory when it came to the rhythm of the song. Soap quickly exited and left to go to the common room to find the rest of the F1F playing poker

“There’s loverboy, we were wondering how long it would take for you and-“

“Firstly, she’s my friend Capt’n you know that. Secondly, Somethin’s a mattah with Bonnie.” Soap cut Price off quickly not caring for niceties.

“why because she’s running a little late?” Gaz spoke while checking his turn. It was comical how they knew you by your nicknames from Soap rather than your god given name.

“Aye ‘nd she’s singin’ this song of ‘ers and it’s got me all worried. I mean I know that I’ve been a wee bit busy lately but I’ve made sure to make me rounds and when I came to her place she was swinging hips and I ken to know when somethin’s a mattah with me Bonnie-“ Simon’s head turned to his friend with interest as Gaz cut the rambling man short.

“Calm down mate. We cannot understand you when you go back to the ancestral plane with that tongue of yours” Gaz spoke. Price waved him off to let the Scott breathe.

“She’s up tae high doh.” Soap rushed out, his brows knit together trying to piece together what could’ve happened.

“In English, lad” Price spoke up. However somebody came to his rescue.

“The phrase is meant to be used to describe when somebody is pent up, flustered. It’s a Scottish saying.” Ghost answered with a deep baritone. Everyone was surprised but secretly noted the phrase for whenever they had to go solo with the Mohawk man.

“So go talk to her” Price responded to Soap with a look that said he was ordering, then he offered a small gift of liquid courage

Soap refused the drink and made his way back over to the infirmary. His brain scrambling to find an answer.

“I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive. Carved my name into his leather seats”

Your belted notes rung through the doors and hit his ears. He vowed he would find out the issue and fix it just so he wouldn’t have to hear the pain in your voice. He came around the corner as you stood in front of a table, organizing your different surgery and procedural tools. He spotted the AirPod beneath your trucker hat (since wearing a traditional cowboy hat was too distracting in the work place even during the quiet shifts. )

“I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights. Slashed a hole in all four tires-“

Soap swallowed all his worry as he grabbed an AirPod out and spoke but you beat him to the punch.

“Who in all of god givens creation just ordered a free fuckin’- Oh sweetheart Johnny it’s you.” Your fire calmed just as quick as it kindled.

“hey lassie I was getting worried about you” Soap said. His heart and maybe something else throbbed at your honey tone. One day he’d finally act upon those feelings but today he needed to worry about something else. “What’s got you all worked up?”

“Are you saying I’m throwin’ a hissy fit?”

“Noo jist haud on there Lassie. I jist was-“

“Heavens to Betsy! You do think I’m havin’ a hissy fit, why you oughta know that I was the best little-“

As you two went on back and forth, the distance between your bodies got smaller and smaller. Two wide eyed grins plastered across your face. He cut you off with a smirk

“Oh I’m sure you were the.. how do you say it again? Oh right” Johnny leaned in closer and his voice dropped, “the best little girl this side of the Mississippi. Ain’t that right, hen?”

“I know damn well you did not just call me a hen from a damn barn house-“ you went to speak again but got cut off as your throat hitched, soap’s mouth just by your ear and his tone got unrealistically deeper and more dominant. A careful hand grazing your hip.

“Shut yer pus for a moment, hen. Tell me what’s a matter. What’s got you so up tae high doh.” The male spoke.

You were silent for once. All the cogs in your brain just stopped. Everything was quiet, if you had perfect hearing you could hear Johnny’s poor heart banging to get out of his chest in anxiety from him boldly caressing your waist.

“Aww come on lassie, need me to buy a wrench for that brain of yours”

“I misplaced my sewing needle. Well I did or one of the stupid nurses did but I can’t find it and I won’t find it till the cows come home” you huffed.

“The one from your nana?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?”

“No need for the ‘tude. May I look?”

“Sure. It’s no bigger than a minnow in a fishing pond” you said softly as he gently moved you aside to look at the table below. His trained eye spotting a glint on the ground. He reached over to pick it up and show it to you.

“Bless your heart! Good god Johnny, oh my sweet I could kiss you!” You cried out with the biggest grin. You leaned forward and kissed him softly on his cheek. His stubble gently scratching your soft, plump lips. His cheeks barely flushed as his smirk transformed into a smile and a small chuckle left his throat. He took a moment to memorize the feeling of your lips for later.

If that’s all it took to make his little Bonnie proud. He’d search every haystack for your needle in a heartbeat. You were his everything, he’d wait until the right moment to tell you. Especially when he was pretty sure the rest of the team was right around the corner listening to them. He’ll confront them later, for now he wants to stay in this moment with you. Watching his sweet hen, praising him. Grinning as she danced around with the needle he found, and even maybe hid.

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Slang translations

Noo jist haud on - Now just hold on there

Heavens to Betsy - southern expression of surprise

Hen- a woman (Scottish term of endearment)

Bonnie - a beautiful woman, Scottish term of endearment typically paired with Bonnie lass

Lass/Lassie- beautiful woman, term of endearment

Shut yer pus - Scottish way of saying hush up, not literally referring to genitalia

Does a bear shit in the woods - kinda like a sarcastic response of “duh.” Whenever you’re asked a question. Hard concept to explain but I hope it’s not just me who got this from their southern mama

no bigger than a minnow in a fishing pond - comparison of size

Author’s note: AAAAAAAA I DID IT. I wrote my first fic. Oh my god. I’m so tired but I hope everyone loves this as much as I did. Please go listen to the song as well. It’s “Before He Cheats” by Carrie Underwood

General Taglist (comment to be added) : @glossythor @banana-beans-police

also thank you for the support for the series: @fruitsa1ad

Banner credit: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

#soap call of duty #call of duty requests #call of duty #soap mctavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #cod x southern!reader #x southern!medic!reader #john price #simon riley #gaz call of duty #country!medic!reader #john mactavish

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seishuswife · 11 months

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Three Times Feelings Went Unspoken, and the One Time It Was (Bucky/Reader)

Cross-Posted on my AO3

[Main Masterlist] | [Marvel Masterlist]

Probably my favorite trope, wrote this one so long ago tho!

Warnings: fluff, fluff, more fluff

++The First Attempt++

Bucky Barnes paced back and forth in his room, rehearsing the words he wanted to say to Y/n, his heart pounding with nerves. He had developed strong feelings for her, but every time he tried to confess, his tongue would tie itself into knots. Tonight was going to be different.

As the team gathered for a casual movie night, Bucky found himself sitting next to Y/n, their shoulders occasionally brushing against each other. Gathering his courage, he turned towards her, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Y/n, there's something I've been meaning to tell you," he stammered, his palms sweating. But before he could continue, his mind went blank, and his words failed him. Y/n looked at him curiously, waiting for him to continue, but all he could manage was a weak smile with a slight shake of his head and turned his attention back to the screen.

++The Second Attempt++

A week passed, and Bucky couldn't stop thinking about his missed opportunity. Determined not to let his nerves get the best of him, he invited Y/n to a quiet coffee shop. As they sat across from each other, sipping their drinks, Bucky took a deep breath.

"Y/n, I... I've been wanting to tell you something," he began, his voice trembling slightly. But once again, his anxiety overpowered him, and he stumbled over his words. Y/n leaned forward, her eyes filled with concern.

"Bucky, take your time. I'm here for you," she reassured him. He managed a small smile, grateful for her understanding, but disappointment weighed heavily on his heart.

++The Third Attempt++

Bucky decided to take a more casual approach for his third attempt. He invited Y/n for a walk in the park, hoping the relaxed setting would ease his nerves. As they strolled together, admiring the scenery, Bucky mustered up his courage:

"Y/n, you know you mean a lot to me, right?" he asked, his voice sounding more confident. Y/n nodded, a gentle smile on her face, encouraging him to continue. However, just as the words were about to leave his lips, his fear gripped him once more, rendering him speechless. Instead, he settled for a sigh, small smile, and yet another slight shake of his head, feeling even more frustrated with himself.

++The Fourth and Final Attempt++

Time passed, and Bucky couldn't escape his feelings for Y/n. He knew he couldn't keep hiding them forever. Seeking advice, he turned to his best friend, who listened patiently.

"Buck, sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith," Steve said, giving Bucky a reassuring pat on the back. Emboldened by his friend's words, Bucky decided it was time to make his final attempt.

He invited Y/n to a quiet rooftop, their favorite spot to watch the city lights. As they sat side by side, Bucky took her hand, his heart pounding in his chest. "Y/n, I've been trying to tell you something for a while now, and I don’t think I can keep it to myself any longer," he confessed, his voice steady and determined.

Y/n's eyes widened with anticipation as she squeezed his hand. "Bucky, what is it?" she asked softly.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky looked into her eyes and finally let his feelings flow. "I'm in love with you, Y/n. You're the most incredible person I've ever known, and I can't imagine my life without you. I understand if you don't feel the same way, but I just need to be honest with you."

Silence enveloped them as Y/n processed Bucky's confession. Slowly, a smile crept onto her lips, and she reached out to cup his cheek. "Bucky, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear those words," she whispered, her voice filled with affection. Bucky's eyes widened in surprise, his heart skipping a beat.

"You... You feel the same way?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

Y/n nodded, her eyes shining with joy. "Yes, Bucky. I've been falling for you too, but I was too afraid to say anything. I'm glad you finally did."

Relief and happiness flooded Bucky's heart as he leaned in, capturing Y/n's lips in a tender, long-awaited kiss. In that moment, all the failed attempts and nervousness faded away, replaced by the warmth of their happy love.

#bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes/reader #bucky/reader #the winter soldier #marvel/reader

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monstersinthecosmos · 8 months

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I am sooo happy I sent that ask!! Your reply was everything I could have wished for and more. I didn’t know anything about the VC universe (I did see the movie adaptation as a kid, but all I could remember were the ~vibes), and now I might actually want to check out the books. I mean I can’t believe how much of it is canon LOL, traumatized kinky asexual vampires wtf? sign me up??? Which book(s) of the series would you recommend to me? :o

In the meantime, I will DEFINITELY be giving your VC fics a try, thank you so much for the pointers!!! I’m already weak just reading your reply, esp. that parallel of post-disaster Armand and Marius being kind of like an AU where Shiro *does* give up on Keith - that actually broke me. A lot of what I love about your fics is how you characterize Keith so realistically and in a way that’s meaningfully informed by his upbringing/subsequent abandonment issues and that’s a thrill to read because, well, it’s just good writing - but also because it makes so much sense, not just abstractly but in a very real and personal way. And while the ~relatability~ of it all makes for a super intense reading experience, it can also be weirdly and sometimes incredibly cathartic imo - which is one of the reasons why I think I keep revisiting your fics (sorry if tmi LOL 😭). But!! In the case of Sheith it more or less all works out in the end because, like you said, it’s such a wholesome ship and they love and prioritize each other so much that (as a reader) they’re kinda like a safe space, delectably complete with all the angst and hurt and fuckedupness of their circumstances/selves (you know, for flavor). However, thinking about a timeline where it does NOT all more or less work out, well that’s kinda super heartwrenching! But yummy? And I kinda can’t wait to get into it but I’m also genuinely scared for my heart LMAO. Anyway I’m sorry for rambling!!! With your permission I will definitely come back and scream about Sheith and vampires because I sorta already am lol.

Re: the teaser xmgdknfnrmsmgdk I can’t even gather enough brain cells to form coherent sentences, I’m just squealing and awaiting my resurrection I guess. Thank you sooo so so much! I got so excited I haven’t even been able to finish reading it 🫣😳😵😵😵

!!!!! Thank you again for such a thoughtful and delicious response! <3

Dgahskjdl g GOSH THANK YOU AGAIN

So this post got really long I’m so sorry asdghkads TLDR: I recommend all of them but I also don’t LMAO and you can skip around and won’t be confused but it will spoil stuff. This is a LOADED QUESTION.

It’s wild like I was thinking about the fic i could stop dreaming and also just in general AGAIN IF WE CAN TALK ABOUT COMMON SHEITH TROPES/FANON like I’ve read many S8 fix-its where Keith is drifting around and he’s just like so cold and broken and empty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And that’s how Armand feels to me! Even a fic like heart nailed open where Keith is just so fucking empty! Or SOURCE DECAY??????? Like I think there’s tons of Sheith AUs or S8 fics where Keith is like Depressed Guy Keith and !!!!!! God it fucks me up lol. Armand is kinda like if Depressed Guy Keith was also like a 500 year old fucking weirdo.

And like BECAUSE they’re vampires and they’re immortal they’re sort of always coming in and out of each other’s lives so like there’s always a hypothetical future where they can work it out. Like i could stop dreaming is about them working it out, right? And what it would take to heal that injury. And there’s a lot of stuff in canon where these characters commit absolute fucking atrocities to each other and still manage to work it out and I think it’s again just an exercise in empathy and asking if we can still deserve love when we’ve fucked up. The characters have CENTURIES to get over stuff (and some of them STILL DON’T LOL) but sometimes they do. Famously & without spoiling too much of IWTV, Armand does something pretty fucking atrocious to Louis and they still have a long relationship and still love each other very much!!!

But ON THE QUESTION OF WHICH BOOKS, jfc hold my beer

I think in Sheith you see people like almost universally dismiss S8; the only fics I ever see of it really are like just gratuitous whump or fix-its LOL which is valid. And VC has FIFTEEN FUCKING BOOKS and you could honestly ask ANY fan in VC which books “count” and which books are skippable and I think everyone has a different answer.

I also think you can read them out of order and there’s always a little bit of exposition to catch you up so you won’t be lost; the only downside is that you’ll get spoiled on the previous book. For example, if you jumped in and read Armand’s book first, it would make sense, but it would spoil what happened at the end of the book before it.

Also to get the movies & show out of the way because it’s faster than committing to fifteen books:

The 1994 movie is a pretty solid adaptation; you can tell they condensed some details for time or whatever but it’s pretty faithful. There’s also the show that came out last year which is …………….. not so faithful lol. The show also heavily focuses on Lestat & Louis which is the juggernaut ship of the fandom but they’re also like the missionary position of the fandom so who the fuck cares lol. (Loustat fans lurking in this extremely niche post I am so sorry, I'm kidding ilu LMAO it's just not my thing!) And tbh the show wrote Armand & Daniel’s characters SO POORLY it like absolutely killed any motivation I had to continue watching so as an Armand stan I can’t really recommend it but it’s kinda like silly and fun if you don’t take it too seriously. And tbh if this entire fact finding mission is to understand VC more, the show literally changes EVERYTHING; it changes the time period, it changes the lore, it changes the story, it changes the character ages, etc. Basically it just kept the names lol. It's a completely different canon so I think even show fics & book fics aren't compatible either.

There’s also a movie of Queen of the Damned from 2002 which is like SO BAD LMAO but also silly fun. It’s a really bad adaptation but I’d put it in between the movie and the show. Marius is in it and the characterization is really strange LMAO. Armand is an extra.

The thing about VC is that it’s very sort of like non-linear and nontraditional storytelling. Most of the books are narrated by Lestat but several of them are narrated by random other people, and a lot of times the same story is retold through other people’s POVs. Like you get the story about Marius & Armand in three different books and each version is a little different because everyone has a different perspective. And regarding reading out of order and having spoilers, I do think it often creates like a suspense vs surprise element because we circle back and revisit the same stories so many times; you might get a spoiler and read a book knowing that a certain thing is going to happen and there’s still the tension of waiting for it to happen haha. Like when I mentioned the cult raids Marius’s house—you learn about that in Book 2 so you read Armand’s book later going into detail about his life and you’re just SWEATING because you know it’s coming. AND THEN YOU READ ABOUT IT IN MARIUS'S BOOK AND YOU'RE JUST DEVASTATED ONCE MORE.

I will say that for me I always recommend just fucking read them lol. Just read all of them. LOL!! But they’re weird and like, you’re gonna hate some of them, but I don’t think you can take someone’s word for it on Tumblr, it must be experienced. But I do understand that it’s a lot of material to get through and so I can give a fair cheat guide I think.

Most fans agree that the first three books (“The Trilogy”!) are solid and worth reading. Those are Interview with the Vampire, The Vampire Lestat, and The Queen of the Damned. IWTV is like this gloomy gothic tome about Louis’s life that started this whole thing and was written as a conversation about grief because Anne Rice’s daughter had died. It absolutely reads like a book someone writes about their daughter dying and it’s REALLY beautiful but it’s also a bit dense at times. If you’re put off by the vibe IT GETS EASIER when Lestat shows up because he literally bursts into the series like Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way ready to like tell you how blonde he is and how he’s gonna fuck everyone’s lives up. The books are still very heavy on existential questions and angst and grief but the text gets a bit lighter and super absurd LOL.

The first three also establish the universe and lore, though, so I think it would give you a pretty solid foundation to understand that type of stuff.

After the trilogy the books just go off the rails like there’s a few about Lestat having stupid adventures and doing dumb shit, there’s a few that cross over with Anne Rice’s witch series (so add three more book so if you truly wanted to read all of them!), then Anne Rice went back to the church and stopped writing vampires so there’s a huge gap, and then she quit the church again and returned LMAO. There’s a final trilogy she wrote before she died that are like, not the heaviest reading and they’re just kinda like silly good times with lots of Easter eggs and fan service. I feel good about the final trilogy being how it ended, just really silly times about them trying to use iPhones and shit, completely wild.

As far as ARMAND CONTENT THOUGH.

Armand does feature heavily in the trilogy so that’s also a good Armand foundation. And it’s REALLY FUN because he shows up in IWTV as sort of a chill mentor to Louis, but then in TVL you get the story about how Lestat met him when he was still in the cult and he was a feral little monster!!! And I love the duality of how Lestat and Louis describe him!!! It’s framed as unreliable narration a lot of the time because like Lestat’s resentment & Louis’s respect for Armand absolutely color the way they describe him, but idk like 100 years go by in between the two meetings so you also see a lot of character growth and see how Armand is doing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! God. My heart.

Anne Rice also very often uses like texts inside texts so like, IWTV literally is an interview with a vampire where the bulk of the book is in quotes as dialogue LOL and then in other books you often meet a character who will talk for like 40 pages at a time to tell a story. So in TVL when Lestat meets Armand, Armand takes over for a chapter and tells the story of his life, and then later he meets Marius and Marius ALSO tells the story of his life.

QOTD is a modern story (modern in the 1980s when it was written haha) about how the whole vampire world has to deal with Lestat’s bullshit and they all come together for a common cause. This book features the little novelette about Armand & Daniel as one of the chapters!! It’s so good!! (The chapter is called The Devil's Minion and basically if you needed to understand Armand & Daniel you could just read that one chapter and that's basically it bc then it goes to shit!!! Not to spoil anything but also don't get your hopes up about like heaps and heaps of ship content because there isn't any lmfao fml)

It also features Marius and Armand reuniting with each other after 500 years!!!!!!!! HEARTBREAKING! It’s really good and very preposterous but the writing is so lush and takes itself so seriously you kinda forget that it’s preposterous.

Armand has a POV book later in the series, it’s called The Vampire Armand, it details his life as a human and some of his early years as a vampire with Marius. IT’S SORT OF LIKE A LONG EXTENDED VERSION OF HIS CHAPTER IN TVL.

I do want to say that regarding the BDSM and whatnot that I mentioned; this book is quite controversial because there’s not good BDSM etiquette LOL and like part of the genius of this book is that it can be read as abuse, even when Armand isn’t setting out to tell you the story of how he was abused. I have a lot of thoughts about this because Anne Rice was also an erotica writer and her erotica books were all noncon BDSM; I WROTE ABOUT IT HERE I DON’T WANT TO GET INTO IT NOW but I think depending how people go into this book they either see the kink & sex stuff as explicit abuse OR you can read it as like, fantasy from a porn writer. As a Sheith fan I’m going to assume you’re not that sensitive lol. (But also por que no los dos, that's the flavor baby!)

Personally I think you could read this book as a standalone and like, it’ll be a little whacky without context, but I think I’ve given you a lot of context. It’s basically about his sad sad life, the religious trauma, and all the freaky sex he had. (Also just so you’re not disappointed, the sex isn’t graphic haha but he’ll be like “And then I went to the brothel and they licked honey off my nipples and I came home and Marius sucked my dick in the bathtub” but not like crazy sex scenes.)

Marius also has a POV book called Blood & Gold and it’s my favorite in the series!! IT’S MARIUS’S LONG EXTENDED VERSION OF HIS TVL CHAPTER. I think it’s the one that handles IMMORTALITY the best; the other books often focus on a short period of time or a specific incident and don’t often span someone’s ENTIRE life. IWTV spans Louis’s entire life but he’s only like 200 years old. Marius is 2,000!!!! He’s from the Roman Empire!! So like it’s really exciting to me to read about his whole life and all the eras he lived through!!!!!!!!!!!!

In his book you also get a few chapters about his time with Armand and it breaks my heart!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There’s also a third secret option which is the book Pandora which isn’t part of the main series; VC is like actually 13 books and 2 side books? LOL So Pandora is one of the side books. But she was the first vampire that Marius made and they were lovers for like 200 years. This book to me feels like Anne Rice had a lot of leftover historical research and wanted to park it somewhere so a lot of the text is her talking about history stuff but there’s really great Marius content here and Marius/Pandora is one of my fav ships.

A lot of the fandom are more into the original trilogy and the Lestat/Louis content but I’m all about Marius so I’m into the DARK TRIAD of The Vampire Armand/Blood & Gold/Pandora. This to me is the more interesting section of the series but it’s an unpopular opinion so don’t take my word for it.

Other than that I’d also say Memnoch the Devil is my absolute least favorite VC, I think it’s so weird and boring lol but there’s some absolutely incredible Armand stuff in it and the stuff Armand does in this will be spoiled immediately if you check out Pandora or TVA. All in all it’s like idk 10 fucking pages of Armand LOL so if you got an ebook you could probably word search him. BUT YKNOW WHAT? Again don’t take someone’s word for it from Tumblr because like I find this book very weird and boring because it’s the most religious and I was raised atheist; there are people who were raised religious and say this one is their favorite. So what the fuck do I know!

Marius & Armand & Daniel are all in the final trilogy as well if you make it that far. Daniel is sort of always shuffled to the side because Anne Rice didn't care about him so like every time Daniel shows up I like feast on the breadcrumbs LOL but I'm glad to get some context about how he's doing and what's going on with his life.

ANYWYA I’M NOT SURE IF THIS ANSWERS THE QUESTION OR MAKES IT MORE CONFUSING LOL but ! ?!

They’re very weird books, they’re also kinda outdated and racist, but very queer, beautiful prose, incredible characters. They were my first hyperfixation that I can never seem to shake even when I’ve done all the work to dismantle all the ways they’re problematic and imperfect, it’s just yknow sometimes something gets its claws in you LOL. And I go out and explore other fandoms and still always come back to Marius and Armand and Daniel lol. I say that to say I wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t like them LOL but don’t judge me if you give it a shot and you’re like “what the fuck is this”

I just think Armand is like the most incredible character of all time okay!

SORRY FOR THIS VERY LONG REPLY LOL love you, patience yields focus!

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banannabethchase · 1 year

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Matt is bored. Bored Matt is chaos Matt. Bored Matt decides to play Truth or Dare with the roster, because apparently it's 2008 and I'm writing classic tropes out of nostalgia.

Alternate titles: 23 times Matt Jackson asked somebody "truth or dare" and the 1 time somebody asked him back Truth or dare as introspection A fictionalization of those times in high school where you dare everybody to kiss each other and you end up making out with your best friend Matt Jackson Is Bored And That Means Chaos

I hope you enjoy. This is for an old Marianas Trench lyric prompt meme for the prompts "Just spin the bottle" and "truth or dare."

Mini Playlist: Pony - Ginuwine Bad Dog - Neon Hitch Truth or Dare - Marianas Trench Wildfire - Marianas Trench

Matt is bored. And he knows that, when he’s bored, bad things happen. Well. Fun things. But bad things. Most recently he held a pie eating content, and that ended up with a $1,500 cleaning bill Tony was not pleased about.

“You’re all twitchy,” Nick says. “Why are you all twitchy?”

Matt shrugs, trying to get comfortable. It fails. “My leg has a mind of its own. I can’t make it stop.”

“Are you about to have a terrible idea?” Nick asks. He studies Matt. “Please don’t do the thing you did in TNA.”

“That’s absurd. I would never do that again.”

Nick raises an eyebrow. “Except for when you did it in New Japan.”

Matt considers it. Promotion wide Spin-the-Bottle was fun, but expected. Matt lets the idea form in front of him: spin the bottle is so out of date. He’s got a better idea.

“Oh, no, don’t make that face,” Nick groans. He drops his head in his hands. “What did I do in a past life to get you as my brother?”

“Sainthood, probably,” Matt says. He’s not bored anymore. He’s excited. “I’ll be back in a minute. Maybe.”

Nick throws a shoe at his back, but it’s not one of the thumbtack ones, so Matt considers it a win.

He googles, “Truths and Dares,” and collects things he thinks might work for the particular demographic he works with. He types some in the notes app, because the wifi in this venue is notoriously weak. He feels a little bad for the first people he runs into. They’ll be the guinea pigs to determine the most interesting options.

Orange Cassidy is refilling his water bottle in the hallway when Matt slides up next to him. “Hi!” Matt gets a nod in response. “Truth or dare?”

Orange lowers his glasses, staring blankly at Matt.

“Truth or dare?” Matt asks again. Maybe he didn’t hear.

“Um. Truth?”

“Who do you think is,” Matt checks his phone, “the hottest person at work?”

“Luchasaurus,” Orange replies. He doesn’t pause. Doesn’t think. Just answers.

“Oh,” Matt says. “Okay. Not my type, but I appreciate the fact that you aren’t worried it might make you a furry.”

“The heart wants what it wants,” Orange says, sliding his glasses back on. “So does the dick.”

Matt shrugs. “Fair. You know where the rest of your buddies are?”

“Got food,” Orange answers. “Went out.”

Matt watches him walk away. “Okay,” he says. “Good question. Backup in an emergency.” He’s a little perturbed that the Best Friends clan might not be an option, but there was no guarantee Danhausen would take his dare to paint Trent’s face to match his, so he cuts his losses. He’ll hit as many people as possible, and will intentionally not think about the person who he’d like to ask a Truth the most.

While looking at his phone, he almost trips over something. “Hey!”

“Stop staring at that phone,” says Christopher Daniels, looking like a disappointed dad. “You kids…”

“I’m thirty-seven,” Matt snaps back. “Truth or dare?”

Christopher blinks. “Excuse me?”

Matt is wondering if his experience with truth or dare with his friends as a kid was a more unique experience than he’d thought. “Truth or dare,” he repeats. “Did they not have that when you were a kid?”

“One of these days I’m going to kill you,” Daniels grumbles. “Do I have to?”

“You don’t have to,” Matt says, making sure to get his eyes all big and moony, “but it’s fun.”

“Don’t – quit looking at me like that. Who do you think I am, Page?”

“It doesn’t work on him anymore!” Matt fires back. It’s only a second later that he realizes he just gave away his secret weapon. “Never mind. Are you doing it or not?”

“Dare,” Daniels says, like it’s torn out of him. “If it’ll get you to stop.”

“I dare you to go up to the first person you see and twerk on them.” He wiggles his phone. “I will provide the music of your choice.”

“Twerk?!” he half shrieks. “Matt, I am fifty-two fucking years old. I don’t twerk.”

Matt frowns. “Let me look something up.” He googles it for a while. “Okay, internet says you have to do a Truth.”

“I’m not telling you shit, because you’ll ask about upcoming contracts.”

Matt shrugs. “Fair.” He scrolls again. “Okay, if you say no to both, I think you have to kiss me.” Technically, the rule is the person is “out”. But Matt isn’t comfortable letting people have an automatic escape from his game, and if they really don’t want to kiss him, he obviously won’t make them. Plus, Daniels is a bit of a sucker for stupid dares, and Matt’s interested to see how far he can push him.

Daniels’ jaw tenses. “Fine. Tell me who I’m twerking on.”

The first room is Tony’s office, and Matt could almost skip with glee. “What song do you want?”

“I hate you,” Daniels grumbles. “Put on Pony by Ginuwine.”

“Good choice!”

Daniels walks into Tony’s room like he belongs here. Matt peeks in after him. Tony looks up from his computer. “Hi, Chris, what’s up?”

With a sigh, Daniels nods to Matt, who cues the music. In a feat of almost miserable effort, Daniels wiggles his butt in a shameful facsimile of a twerk.

“That’s enough,” Matt says, as gently as possible. He looks over at Tony. “I – I don’t want to put you through more.”

“May I ask what is going on?” Tony says. “Actually…” He pauses, pressing a button on the phone. “Okay, the call’s muted. Thanks for that, by the way.”

Matt shrugs. “I’m playing Truth or Dare. You, Tony?”

“Truth.”

Matt huffs. “Boring. Who’s your favorite wrestler on the roster?”

Tony looks at Matt like he’s a particularly pathetic street rat. “Kenny. You know that. We’ve talked about it.”

“It’s in your book,” Daniels offers.

Matt walks out of the room, defeated. He screwed himself on that one.

“Hell fucking no.”

“Please?” Matt asks, chasing after Ethan Page. “Come on!”

“No,” Ethan says. “I am not playing Truth or Dare.”

“If you say no, you have to kiss me.”

Ethan turns around. “You are a fucking demon.”

“So will you play?” Matt asks. He turns on the eyes.

Ethan laughs, directly in his face. “Truth or dare? Okay. Truth.”

“Uh,” Matt scrolls his phone, looking for something decent. “Who is your least favorite person –”

“You.”

“I didn’t finish!”

“Sucks for you,” Ethan says. He walks backward. “Thanks for the game, Matt. Hope you lose your next match.”

Matt kicks a trash can, stubs his toe, and limps off to catering, where his mood immediately turns. There’s a lot of people in here.

“Hi.” Matt sits down next to Tay and Anna. “Truth or dare?”

They turn to each other, look at each other for a moment, then turn back to him. In perfect sync. Matt is mildly terrified. “Truth,” Anna says.

Tay laughs. “Baby. I say dare.”

“Okay, Anna,” Matt looks through the list, “if you had to punch anybody in the room, who would it be?”

Anna scans the area, tapping her chin. Her eyes land on the Blackpool table. “Yuta,” she decides. “He’s too, I don’t know, pleasant. A fist to the face would make me like him more, I think.”

“Weird logic, but okay.” Matt turns to Tay. “With their consent, of course, kiss somebody in the room.”

Matt is expecting a peck on the cheek, probably for Anna. Maybe a tiny kiss for Sammy, if he comes in.

Nope.

Tay stands, grabs Matt’s face. “You?”

He should have seen this coming. “Fine.” Tay plants a kiss directly on his mouth. It’s over before he realizes, and he doesn’t even get a chance to kiss back.

“Interesting choice,” he says, trying to put his face back where it belongs. “Um, why me?”

“You were the closest,” Tay says, shrugging. “And Sammy’s on the other side of hotel, so…”

“Oh,” says Anna, interrupting, “Jack’s here.” She waves him over, and he slides in next to her, arm around her waist. “Hi. Matt’s doing Truth or Dare.”

Jungle Boy tilts his head to the side. “Dare. Obviously.”

Matt thinks about it. “I dare you to do a lap dance on somebody in the room who isn’t Anna.”

“Lame.” He looks around. “I get to choose the music?”

Matt nods. “Provided by me, of course. Just let me know what song and I’ll play it.”

Jack looks from the Blackpool table, over to The Firm’s table. It is only then that Matt realizes how much his adult life feels like high school. “Yuta!”

“What?”

“Can I give you a lap dance?”

Yuta wrinkles his nose. “No. Unequivocally no.”

“Please?”

“Still no. Let me eat my lunch.”

Jungle Boy turns back to Matt. “Well. Sucks for you.”

“What?”

“Babe,” Jungle Boy says, turning to Anna, “what’s the sexiest song?”

“Bad Dog by Neon Hitch,” she answers automatically.

Matt shrugs. He doesn’t know the song, but the title is…well, to quote Isiah Cassidy, sus. “Odd choice, but to each their own.” He chooses the song on Spotify. “Who are you lap dancing?”

“You, obviously.”

Thus begins 3 of the strangest minutes of Matt’s thirty-seven years. Jungle Boy isn’t exactly full of rhythm, and he doesn’t exactly have the ass to make this a particularly riveting lap dance. But it’s something to do, and Matt’s doing a great job of getting people to play his game, so he figures he doesn’t have anything to complain about.

The song ends, and Jungle Boy stops dancing and immediately goes stiff again. He sits back next to Anna. “Okay. I’m going to, uh, eat my dinner now.” He nods at Matt. “Later.”

Matt stands up. “Later. Uh, if they try to kill me,” he nods over to the Blackpool table, “call Nick or something, okay?”

“Sure,” Anna says, but she’s texting, and he’s pretty sure she didn’t even hear him. Oh, well.

He plops himself next to Wheeler Yuta, who pauses midchew. “Hi.”

Yuta swallows, eyeing Matt. “What are you up to?”

“Why do you think I’m up to anything?”

Yuta gestures to Jungle Boy, Anna, and Tay. “Well, for starters, Tay kissed you, and then Jungle Boy did a weird little stripper dance on you.” He shrugs. “Common denominator is you, man.”

“Okay, fine. I’m playing Truth or Dare.”

“Dare,” Yuta says automatically. Mox laughs, dropping his head, while Claudio rolls his eyes over a bowl of soup.

“Kid, you gotta stop giving Matt an open invitation. He’ll take it.” He wiggles his eyebrows at Matt. “Won’t he?”

“That was once, and we were high on adrenaline after Double or Nothing,” Matt fires back.

Mox shrugs, grinning as he shovels more pasta into his mouth. “Fun, though.”

Yuta looks between the two of them, strangely intrigued. “You guys have kissed?”

“Yes, not the point,” Matt says. He’s got to focus Yuta back so he can knock out the rest of the cafeteria before people start to leave. “Okay, dare? Um,” he searches online, but gives up quickly. The world in front of him gave a decent prompt. “I dare you to shove all of that loaf of bread in your mouth.”

“This is my bread,” Claudio grumbles.

“Tough shit,” Yuta says, and immediately shoves the whole hunk in his mouth. Like it’s nothing. Matt wonders what the hell the Blackpool Combat Club gets up to when they’re not in combat. Yuta’s chewing is a little labored, but he manages to chew and swallow it without much problem after a few moments. He swallows once more, then sticks out his tongue.

“Ew,” Matt says, wrinkling his nose. He turns to Claudio. “Truth or dare?”

“Not him yet,” Yuta says. “If Mox kissed you, can I kiss you?”

Matt blinks at him. “Um, that was back in 2019, so it’s not like a, a BCC initiation.”

“Oh, not because of that. Mox and I are in a battle to determine who is the best kisser and you’d be an impartial judge.”

Matt has the impulse to ask what in the eff that means, and also, again, what the fuck is Blackpool doing on company time, but he refocuses. He has a match soon. He can’t waste time. “I mean. I ask you for a favor, you ask me for one.” He points to the water. “Just, I don’t know, rinse your mouth out a little first.”

Yuta nods, chugs about a gallon of water and shakes his shoulders out. “Alright.” He leans down and kisses Matt gently, a sweet press. It feels almost blasphemous to call this brush of lips the same as whatever the fuck he and Moxley did behind a giant poker chip way back then.

Yuta’s smiling when he pulls away. “Good?”

“Very different from Mox,” he muses. “For instance, you don’t taste like cigarettes.”

Mox drops his fork. “That can’t count.”

“It does,” Matt says and, just to be annoying, “and Yuta’s not all sweaty.”

“I’d just made my debut on a fuckin’ lit stage! In May!”

Matt shrugs. “Yuta wins. Now, Claudio, Truth or Dare?”

“No, no, no,” Mox interrupts again. Matt’s going to get nowhere. There’s only so many hours in a day. “I get another shot. That other kiss was years ago.”

“Oh, my god, fine,” Matt says, rolling his eyes. “Kiss me, you fool, or whatever. Clock is ticking.”

Mox leans in and presses a kiss gentler than Matt’d thought him capable of. But he still wouldn’t call it gentle. Mox kisses with single minded hunger, lips demanding and firm. They don’t taste like smoke, though Mox tastes a bit like chicken soup. He pulls away. “There. Better?”

“Better,” Matt says, “but you taste like soup this time, so I’m still gonna have to give it to Yuta.”

“Hah!” Yuta barks, and straight up points a finger in Mox’s face. “Told ya!”

Mox rolls his eyes. “Asshole.”

“Claudio, truth or dare?” Matt says.

“Truth.”

Matt scrolls his phone. “What’s your favorite fantasy?”

“Winning the world title,” Claudio says, almost automatically.

“I think – well, I guess it’s answerer interpretation, isn’t it.” Matt stands. “Thank you for your time, boys, as weird as it was.” He pauses. “Uh, Claudio?”

“Yes?” He doesn’t look pleased.

“Do you have stakes in the weird kissing battle between…” He trails off, pointing to Mox and Yuta, who have gone back to eating their lunch like they hadn’t just asked Matt to settle a bet between the two of them.

Claudio sighs. “Yuta won in my final review, too.”

“I shouldn’t have asked. Alright.” He walks over to the Firm’s table, where Stokeley Hathaway looks highly displeased at his arrival. “What?”

“Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

At least it’s moving quick than BCC. “What’s your greatest fear?”

“Being stuck in conversations with idiots my whole life,” Stokely fires back.

“I’ll take it. You,” he turns to Lee Moriarty, “truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Read out loud the last text message you sent.”

Lee pulls out his phone. “No, but you can if you want,” he reads. “To Big Bill, if it matters.”

“Thank you. Mr. Bill.”

“You can call me Big Bill.”

Matt nods. “Okay. Big Bill, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Matt scrolls the list. “Oh, this one is fun. Yell out the first word that comes to mind at the top of your lungs.”

“Potpourri!” Big Bill booms, and it staggers Matt. For just a second though.

“What the fuck goes on in that big ass head of yours?” Stokely asks, shaking his head. He turns back to Matt, somehow looking disappointed. “Alright. You finished?”

Matt nods. “Yep.” He walks to the exit, and runs right into Samoa Joe. “Oh, hi! Truth or dare?”

“Why?”

Matt shrugs. “I was bored. Truth or dare?”

Joe practically levels him with a stony star. This might have been a mistake. “I will throw you across this room.”

Matt seriously considers trying again. He has that street match later, anyway… But no. Bad idea. “Alright, suit yourself.” And he makes his way down the hallway.

He gets to his normal locker room, the one he now shares only with Nick, since Kenny came back. Since he left. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Nick says. “You seem a little less jittery than before.”

“Truth or dare is fun,” Matt says. “Speaking of which.”

Nick sighs. “Yeah, okay. Dare.”

“Ooh! You’re being fun today.” He scrolls the list, and finds the perfect one. “Oh, this is good. Show me the most embarrassing photo on your phone.”

Nick whines. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Or, I could just grab your phone and -” Matt darts out to grab Nick’s phone, but he pulls it away at the last second.

“God, okay, fine,” he whines. “Give me a sec.”

A minute so later, which Matt spends searching for other good dares and truths, Nick sighs. “Here.” He turns the phone around and shows it to Matt. It’s not that embarrassing – a photo of a particularly messy botch from the previous match with Death Triangle.

“Oh, that’s not bad.” He pats Nick on the cheek. “Thanks, baby brother.”

They gear up and walk down to Kenny’s dressing room, where he’s half asleep on the couch. “You awake, buddy?” Nick asks, reaching out to gently shake Kenny’s arm.

He wakes up slowly. “Time to get ready?”

Matt nods. “You forget your alarm again.”

“Apparently,” Kenny mumbles. “Sorry about that. Won’t be long.”

It isn’t. Kenny is ready in a couple of minutes, and they are ready for their match. Matt gets a Brutalizer, Nick gets a boot to the face, and Kenny probably breaks his ass pulling off a risky One Winged Angel. But they won. Even though Matt tapped, they still won.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Kenny says, patting Matt’s shoulder a little too hard. “Oops. Sorry.”

“Nah, you’re good.” Matt rolls his shoulder. “And I tapped! I almost made us lose.”

“I had your back,” Kenny says. “Besides, all that matters is that we won. One more in two weeks.” He winces. “I think I’ll enjoy that time off, actually.”

Matt hums in agreement. The ache in his shoulder is almost completely done by the time the clock hits ten. Kenny’s ass is solid, pun intended, Nick doesn’t have anything worse than a lump in his forehead, and Matt decides that he’s allowed to turn his attention back on his own brand of nonsense now.

“Hey, I’m not gonna bother with the trainer. I’m already feeling better.” He grins. “Anybody want to come with me to play truth or dare?”

Kenny shakes his head. “I want to go monitor Rampage, make sure everything closed out Dynamite okay.” He wiggles, wincing. “And maybe sit on some ice.”

“And I,” Nick says, “will do anything in my power to avoid being involved in your weird…” He trails off, making a bizarre hand gesture. “Well, your whatever it is. So I’m going with Kenny.”

Matt shrugs. “Suit yourself. But first, Kenny,” he grins, like everything is the way they were before the injuries, “truth or dare?”

“Die in a fire.”

“Not an option,” Matt says. “Truth or dare?”

“Fine,” Kenny says, slowly lifting himself off the table. “Truth.”

“Who on the roster would you let kiss you, if they asked nicely?”

Kenny considers, wincing as he takes his first few steps. “Jesus, don’t drop ass first on a table.” He takes a few steps, and loosens, just a little. “Probably Rush,” Kenny decides. “I like his hair.”

Matt nods. “Cool. Interesting choice. Not where I would have gone with it.”

On the way to main locker room, he bumps into the Dark Order.

“Great timing,” he leans against the wall, legs out to make sure the Dark Order don’t make the mistake of thinking that they can escape this conversation. “Truth or dare. Let’s start with Silver.”

“Dare,” he says. He looks way too excited. “You gonna make me suck a dick? Lick somebody’s stinky butthole?”

Matt involuntarily scoots a little further away. “Gross, no. What in the world do you guys get up to?”

“So much,” Uno says, sounding dazed.

“Silver, I dare you to text ‘I love you’ to whoever posted most recently in your Instagram feed.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Silver says, pulling his phone out from his trunks. Matt reminds himself to never shake his hand without Purel on hand. “Hello, Miss Grande.” He types it out, presses send and shows Matt. “Maybe she’ll pick up some tickets to the gun show and get up on this.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s married now,” Reynolds muses. “I choose truth.”

“Who’s your least favorite member of the Dark Order?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Alex waves it away. “Five. He was the worst.” He pauses. “Actually, wait. I think my least favorite is Ten now. Because of, you know, the whole betrayal thing.”

John exhales. “I never thought I’d see the day when Five wasn’t last in something.”

“So, Uno, how about you?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you, to,” Matt checks his list again, wishing he could just memorize the whole thing, “to send a sext to the last person in your phone, alphabetically.”

“Oh, well, that’ll be,” he holds up his phone, “Wheeler Yuta.”

“This’ll be fun,” John says, “tell him you want to use his abs to do laundry.”

Uno makes an appraising noise. “Honestly, that’s better than what I was worried you’d suggest.”

“I was gonna say ‘ask him to suck your Moby dick’, but I figured that was over the line.”

“Good call,” Matt says. Uno types and sends the message. “Keep me posted. It’ll be fascinating to see where this goes next.”

He makes his way down to Death Triangle’s area, but they’re gone. No sign of them. “Hello?” he calls into the locker room. “Anybody else in here?”

“Hello hello,” says Bryan Danielson, popping out from the showers. He’s fully dressed, though, so Matt doesn’t need to have a panic attack about that. “Need something?”

“I’m playing truth or dare,” Matt says. “Which one?”

“Truth, I guess,” Bryan says, fixing his hair in the mirror.

“Who’s your favorite person on the roster?”

Bryan keeps adjusting pieces of his hair as he thinks. “Probably Mox,” he decides. “But don’t tell him I said that.”

“You’re secret’s safe with me,” Matt says, and he salutes, which he couldn’t explain if a knife was to his throat.

He walks to the other side, expecting to see it empty, but Hook is sitting there with Top Flight. “Oh – didn’t think anybody else was in here.”

“We’re trying to chill,” Dante says. His eyes are closed as he leans against the locker. “So, if you’re here to kick our ass or yell at us, wait, like, ten minutes.”

“Not any of that,” Matt says. “I’m playing truth or dare. Want to play?”

Hook takes a headphone out, considers Matt. “Truth,” he says. Matt thinks this may be the most Hook’s said directly to him. Like, ever.

“Okay, um,” he gives up on his phone, because he genuinely has a question, “favorite wrestler of all time?”

“My dad,” he answers. He doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t explain, just relaxes back against the lockers. But his eyes stay open, this time.

“Alright, Dante,” he nods to him. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare. I’m always up for something stupid.”

Matt breaks into a slow grin. “Go up to Danielson – he’s on the other side – and start dancing on him.”

Dante sighs. “Should have seen that one coming. Alright, fine. Let’s go.”

Hook grins and breaks out his phone, recording it as Dante walks over. Danielson is on his way out, but Dante catches up to him and immediately starts doing what appears to be the Dougie. Bryan is not phased, and simply walks out.

“That was anticlimactic,” Matt mutters. “Alright, Darius. What’s your poison?”

He tilts his head a little. “Truth.”

“Did you consider leaving wrestling after your accident?” But it wasn’t Matt who asked. It was Dante.

Darius’ eyes widen. “Not for a second.” He looks at Dante, who’s slumped, just a little. “Hey, bud, I promise. I wasn’t going to leave.”

“But you could have,” Dante says. “You probably should have.” His eyes are suddenly big and sad, and he looks so, so young. He remembers getting that same look from Nick all those years ago, when things weren’t going well and Matt was about to quit.

Matt stands, shuffling out, because he’s not needed for this. He hears the cheers from the Rampage taping going off, so he guesses he’s shit out of luck for anybody on that show. He ducks into the corners of the dressing rooms and the prep rooms, looks for Swerve and his guys, but nobody’s there. He peeks in catering again – no one. Everybody’s either working or back at a hotel.

He catches Wardlow on his way back toward his EVP room, and taps his shoulder.

“Hey.” Wardlow turns to him. “I like the haircut.”

Wardlow touches it, fingertips pulling at strands that are no longer there. Matt remembers doing that when he and Nick first started for TNA, when they made them Max and Jeremy. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Truth or dare?”

“Did I miss something?” Wardlow asks, looking around. “This for your vlog?”

“No,” Matt says. “I got bored and I’m asking everyone. Getting some good gossip.”

“Like what?” Huh. Matt had not pegged Wardlow for a nosy Nancy, but Matt Jackson is always willing to dish out the knowledge he obtains.

“Well,” Matt says, “I learned that Jungle Boy can’t do a lap dance to save his life.” He thinks about other interesting details. “Oh, and Hook’s favorite wrestler is Taz, which is expected, but nice. Wheeler Yuta can shove, like, a whole loaf of bread in his mouth at once.”

Wardlow nods in approval. “Okay, that one’s actually kind of impressive.”

“I know,” Matt says, “Like, I know a lot of bread is air, but a lot of bread is, well, bread.”

Wardlow laughs, something that is both confusing and comforting to Matt. He feels unlikely to be powerslammed into the wall. “Alright. I pick truth.”

“What do you think is your biggest mistake?” It’s a rough question, but Warlow seems…well, he seems like he might need it. MJF wasn’t particularly kind to him, and Samoa Joe was a giant jerk tonight. Nobody checks on Wardlow. Somebody should talk to him.

Wardlow sighs, leans against the wall. “Well,” he say, “I’d say helping MJF all that time. I made the mistake of putting money over morals.” He smiles. “Not doing that again.”

“Well, thank you for your candor,” Matt says, doing his best to be chivalrous. “I won’t share that if you don’t want to.”

“I mean, you can,” Wardlow says with a shrug. “I feel like most people can assume, at this point.”

He waves Matt off, wishing him a happy new year, and Matt makes his way back to his room. There’s only one person left from Dynamite that he really, really wishes he’d caught. And it’s only then that Matt realized this was all an excuse. His shoulders slump, like a marionette with cut strings, and he pushes into the EVP room with Nick with the energy of a dying plankton.

“You look miserable,” Nick says, a little too cheerfully. “You get punched in the face for daring somebody to, like, make out with you or something?”

“I did not dare anybody to kiss me, thank you very much.” He decidedly does not mention the thing with Jungle Boy. Or Tay. Or the little thing with Yuta. Or the thing with Mox. Which sort of wasn’t a kiss, as much as a mouth attack. “And no, it’s because it’s been a long day and I’m tired.”

“That’s not your tired face,” Nick says. “Actually. That’s, uh. That’s your weird little temper tantrum face.”

“Shut up,” Matt says, He dips his head, trying to cover whatever Nick thinks he can read there.

“Who was it?” Nick asks, too knowing as always. “Which sane person decided not to play your game?”

“Samoa Joe, but that’s not the issue,” Matt says. He can feel that Nick is going to keep pressing, kep asking. So he caves. “I couldn’t find Page.”

“Ethan?”

Matt lifts his head up. “No.”

Nick exhales, slumping against his chair. “Man, you really are a glutton for punishment.”

“It’s a game!” Matt doesn’t know why he feels so defensive about this. “I didn’t want him to feel left out.”

Nick claps him on the shoulder. “You really miss him, don’t you.”

“I don’t want to,” Matt mumbles. “But yeah. I guess I miss what we all used to have, you know?”

They sit silently for a little, packing up slowly, until Matt realizes he hasn’t eaten since five.

“Catering might still be open,” he says. “I’ll bring you a cookie.”

The walk to the catering area is quiet, since anybody who isn’t working Rampage is gone or packing up, and he’s halfway through a tray full of a smattering of snacks when he hears it. The familiar tap on the tile floors.

“Hangman!” Matt scrambles to his feet, practically tripping over them to get out of the cafeteria and out to Adam. “Adam! Wait!”

He turns around slowly. Hesitantly. Matt doesn’t like it. “Matt?”

“Yeah, hi,” Matt says. He skids to a stop in front of Adam. “Hi.”

“You said that already.”

Matt can’t help but smile. “I know. Um, truth or dare?”

Adam sighs. “Not again.”

“It’s not spin the bottle this time,” Matt blurts out. “So you don’t have to kiss me.”

“I didn’t have to kiss you that time,” Adam says, leaning against his wall. “But, truth.”

Matt feels something well in him, some kind of bold tenacity. Adrenaline spikes. “Do you hate me?”

Adam slips a little bit. “What?”

Matt nods. “That’s your truth. Do you hate me?”

He’s quiet for a minute, for long enough that Matt is regretting this whole thing. Then, “No.” He adjusts his hair, tightening the bun. “No, Matty, I don’t.”

The nickname is like a kick to the heart. Or a jumpstart. Matt risks stepping closer.

“Now I get to ask you, right?”

Matt tilts his head. “You ask me?”

“That’s how the game’s played, isn’t it?” Adam asks. His fingers are pulling at his belt buckle. He’s nervous. “The last person to go always gets to ask whoever they want.”

“Nobody else has cashed in on that today, but, yeah.” Matt feels a little breathless. “Yeah, you can ask me.”

“Truth or dare?” His voice is low, breathy. Matt remembers that tone of voice. Remembers when it used to meet him in the middle of the night in a shitty hotel room, used to sweep him off his feet backstage.

“Dare,” Matt whispers.

Adam steps toward Matt. “Kiss me.”

Matt nods, feeling something tighten in his chest, something that’s been begging to get touched for years. He tilts his head up, and it’s like coming home. Adam’s fingers thread through his hair where it’s fallen out of the ponytail; he slides them against the base of his head like he always used to. Matt sighs into it, settles his hands on Adam’s hips, pulls him closer. Adam makes this little sound against him as he licks at Matt’s lips. Like Matt could ever resist that sound. He goes up onto his toes trying to get better leverage, and presses Adam up against the wall. Adam’s hands lose some of their demure hesitance, and they grip at the back of Matt’s shirt. It feels like an invitation, so Matt slides his hands up Adam’s shirt, pressing at the familiar skin there.

He's missed this. He’s missed Adam. He’s missed feeling like there was something other than the ground to anchor him.

Matt fumbles with the door and twists the knob, and he pulls Adam with him into whichever room this is. He doesn’t care where it is – he just needs to be away from any questioning eyes. He realizes with a hazy sense of stupid that this is, indeed, Kenny’s dressing room. And Matt doesn’t care.

Adam’s making those little, desperate noises again, the ones that get Matt hard in his pants so fast he gets dizzy, and Matt’s only option is to scrabble at Adam’s shirt and yank it up over his head.

“Missed you,” Adam growls, biting along Matt’s jaw. His hands have found their way up Matt’s back, under his shirt, burning a path where his fingertips skitter and scratch. “Want you.”

Matt can’t do much other than make a weird little murmur in response, and he hopes it’s enough to tell Adam that he wants him, too. He pulls back, just a little, and hears Adam make a half pathetic desperate noise.

“I’m coming back,” Matt says, and he pulls of his shirt, throwing it somewhere in the room. He grabs at the hem of Adam’s shirt, already messed up, and yanks it up. “Rawhide Kid?” he asks. “What…?”

“It’s a gay cowboy,” Adam says, with a little laugh. “Strangely appropriate for right now, huh.”

Matt nods in agreement, then steps back into Adam’s space. He goes for Adam’s belt, doesn’t know what he’s getting, but he wants anything Adam is willing to give. Adam’s belt flies across the room, Matt’s pants fall, and Adam grabs him around the waist. He hauls him up and presses him up against the door as he pulls the pants off his leg. Matt’s vision nearly whites out.

“Forgot you could do that,” Matt laughs, head tilted back as Adam bites a bruise into his skin. “And I’ve bulked up.”

“I noticed,” Adam says. He moves down to Matt’s bicep, nipping. “Been lifting?”

“Uh huh,” Matt says. He rolls his hip up against Adam, desperate for friction. He’s rewarded with Adam’s low laugh, the kind Matt only gets to hear with they’re like this. “Come on, take your pants off.”

Adam turns and, with a hand on Matt’s back, carries him to the couch. He drops Matt, and it gives Matt a truly magnificent view of Adam looming over him, undoing his belt.

“Got anything?” Adam asks. “It’s not back in our Ring of Honor days, not sure if spit’s gonna do the job.”

Matt feels a zing of heat course through him. “Uh, this is Kenny’s room, so if you go through his stuff, he’s bound to have something.”

“Right,” Adam says. “Going through my professional ex’s stuff so I can fuck my other ex. Totally normal.”

“Shut up and get in me,” Matt demands. Adam does shut up, but not without an eye roll. Matt doesn’t agree with Adam – spit’s worked fine for him the last few times – so he works himself down on his own finger while Adam searches.

“Okay, I think I found – oh, holy fuck.” Adam sounds like the breath has been punched out of him. “Oh, god, you look so pretty doing that.”

“Had to,” Matt gasps, writhing against the press of his own finger inside him. “You were taking too long.”

Adam hums in interest, then leans down, batting Matt’s finger out of the way. “Let me.” He presses a kiss to Matt’s bare thigh, then slicks his fingers. He’s always so gentle, this way. Kisses up and down Matt’s body, peppered to his lips, his chest, his legs. He starts off slow, takes a while to go rough enough, fast enough for Matt. It’s not in his brand to rush things, he thinks.

“More,” Matt gasps, “please. More.”

“Well, only ‘cause you beg so pretty.” Adam gently slides a second finger into Matt, twisting them so it sends shockwaves up Matt’s spine. He can’t help it – he grinds back down on Adam’s fingers, letting out a desperate moan. “Forgot how loud you get when I’m inside you,” Adam murmurs. He moves up Matt’s body, pressing a kiss to his lips like he’s drowning for Matt’s oxygen. “What do you want?”

“Wanna – wanna ride you,” Matt gasps, grinding down with each thrust from Adam.

Adam laughs. “I could make a cowboy joke here.” He teases a third finger around Matt’s rim, then slides it in easy, drawing out a sound of desperation from somewhere inside Matt’s chest. “But you seem otherwise occupied.”

Matt can’t speak anywhere, just lets out a bunch of vowels, and Adam laughs again. Matt will do anything to keep that there. He leans up, moaning at the way it shifts Adam’s fingers inside him, and pulls Adam to him. Adam slides his fingers out.

“Why the eff would you do that?” Matt asks, and he sounds petulant even to his own ears.

“Because you want to ride me, and that’s not gonna work if I’m stuck doing this standing crouching thing.” He flops down, hard, next to Matt, and rips open the condom, rolling it over himself. Matt’s about to die a little, when Adam pats his thighs. “Ride ‘em – ”

“Oh, no,” Matt says, throwing a leg over Adam’s. “No stupid jokes. We’re stopping that right now.”

“Just one?” God, Adam looks cute when he pouts, lips all pink and eyes shiny blue-green.

Matt decides argument is unnecessary, grabs Adam’s cock, and lowers himself down. It’s a strategy that’s never failed.

Adam drops his head backward with an audible thunk. “Christ on bike,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “I forgot how good you feel.”

Matt’s eyes flutter shut as he does his first rocking. “I didn’t forget you,” he mumbles. There’s certain things you can’t replicate on your own, no matter how hard you try. “You – oh – always fit me so good.”

Adam hums in agreement, starting with slow, tantalizing circles of the hips. Matt rocks, memorizing everything. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever have this again and, last time, he didn’t know it was the last time. This time, he’s prepared.

Adam slides a hand up to the back of his neck, into his hair. He pulls Matt down to kiss him, deep and dirty, and he picks up the speed of his thrusts. This is what Matt really missed – the way Adam just lets it go, gets a little wild with everything he gives. Matt starts by trying to lead, at least a little, but Adam’s desperate with it, and all Matt can really do is grip the back of the couch and press open mouthed kisses to Adam’s gasping mouth.

His cock is caught between their bellies, catching on Adam’s skin, and it’s too much and not enough at once. He presses his lips to Adam’s forehead. He doesn’t know how to tell him what he’s feeling. He hopes he can show it.

Adam slows down a little, one arm braced on the couch and the other around Matt’s back. Matt remembers all of this. They’ve just never had the chance to do this in such a nice room. Before he can catch himself. Matt laughs.

“What?” Adam asks, laughing along with Matt.

“Just – Kenny’s room,” Matt says. “I don’t know. It’s funny.”

Adam hums, but he must not be feeling the humor, as he speeds up and gets his hand on Matt and very suddenly Matt has other things to focus on.

It hits Matt like a train, when he comes all over Adam’s hand. Adam groans, “Fuck, you’re so, I…” But he trails off into a wordless moan as he comes, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. Matt forgot how good Adam looks like this.

He’s got a giant smile on his lips as he eases his eyes open. “I missed you,” Adam half slurs, reaching up to brush hair from Matt’s forehead. “God, I missed you.”

Matt shifts, hips screaming at him, and flinches when Adam slips out of him. He’ll be feeling that tomorrow, that’s for damned sure. “I missed you, too.” He’s not sure what happens next, the reality of this crashing over him when Adam stands.

“Don’t panic,” he says, looking more confident than Matt feels, “just throwing this away.” He walks into the bathroom and comes right back out. “I’m not running out on you.”

“Oh. Cool. That’s good.” Matt really, really doesn’t know what comes next, but he’s been getting yesses almost the whole day so he figures luck is on his side. He reaches out, and Adam dives into his arms, pressing Matt to the couch. Matt settles into it, feels cozy when Adam nuzzles his neck and throws his legs over Matt’s lap.

“Forgot how cute you are, after,” Matt murmurs, arms around Adam’s shoulders.

“Shut up and let me cuddle,” Adam says back, but there’s no fire behind it, no anger. They stay there for longer than they probably should, testing the silence from time to time with little nothings, comments.

Well, until they hear footsteps. Matt manages to get his jeans and boxers back on, Adam his boxers only, by the time the door opens.

“What – what the hell?” Kenny doesn’t look angry, exactly. Anger would look a lot less confused. “I really hope I don’t know what you just did.”

“Take a wild guess, Kenneth,” Matt says, pulling his jeans on over his boxers. “Not like I haven’t run in on you and, well a lot of people, come to think of it.”

“How am I being slutshamed when you two are the ones fucking on my couch,” Kenny mutters.

“I’m not shaming that you’re a slut,” Matt says, shirt back on. The neck hole is super stretched, though. Hopefully a good wash will fix it. “I’m just commenting on it.”

“Can we stop saying that word?” Adam asks. Matt turns to see him doing his belt, and it sends that zing up his spine again. “And, uh, hi, Kenny.” He puts out his hand, winces, then pulls it behind his back.

Kenny shakes his head. “I don’t need to know the details.” He walks over to his stuff. “Oh – did you.” He cuts himself off, head snapping up. “Matt, did you steal my lube?”

Sheepishly, Matt finds the lube where they’d thrown it. “Here.”

Kenny makes a strange noise as he sort of tosses it in his hands, then throws it into his bag. “Don’t give me the condom back, for the love of god.”

“Already gone,” Adam says, grinning. “Thanks for the assist by the way.” The bastard winks at Kenny, Matt’s wondering if he’s physically able to get hard again just from that.

Kenny makes that weird noise again. “I should be annoyed by this.”

“Maybe,” Matt says, “but you hate being annoyed at me. It’s inconvenient.”

In tandem, Adam and Kenny groan in frustration. The cut it off at the same time, looking at each other in surprise.

“Moving on from that,” Adam says, starting to blush. “Anybody see my shirt?”

“Back of the couch,” Matt and Kenny say at the same time.

“Alright, well, I hate that,” Adam says. “Give it to me.”

Matt snorts. “Here.” Adam takes the shirt and pulls it back on, much to Matt’s chagrin. “So,” Matt says, “I was, like, in the middle of dinner when I heard Hangman walking down the hallway, so I’m starving. Anybody want to get food?”

“Shouldn’t this be weird?” Adam asks. “I mean,” he points between the three of them, “with everything, this should be weird.”

Kenny’s smile is more gentle than Matt would have expected. “Let’s save awkward for tomorrow. I didn’t get dinner either.”

Matt begins a spirited argument with the two of them about which is better, Denny’s or IHOP, and, for the first time in years, he feels whole.

The afterglow, though. That gets ruined fast.

“Where the eff were you?!” Nick asks, looking panicked in the hallway. “You haven’t answered your phone in, like, forty-five minutes!”

“I was busy,” Matt says, and he watches Nick get it as his eyes go to where Adam’s and Matt’s hands are linked.

“Oh, here we go,” Nick says, but he’s smiling, so Matt thinks he might be okay.

“Goin’ to IHOP,” Adam says. “Wanna come with?”

“What if we go to Cracker Barrel?” Matt asks, the idea fully formed before he was finished speaking.

Kenny puts his hands on his hips. “Huh. You know, I haven’t had Cracker Barrel in, what years.”

“Me either,” Nick adds.

Adam beams over at Matt. “Cracker Barrel. Just like old times.”

#Matt Jackson #HangMatt #There's too many people I'm not tagging anybody but the cow eyed menace #in which Sara writes #wtf i like wrestling now???

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aaronhotchstan · 2 years

Text

Too old for this...

A multi chapter series I finished on A03 a while back and just decided to post here. My will they?/won't they? multi chapter slow burn about an Italian stallion and the emotionally stunted Bossman. There will be cheesy tropes and team created chaos so please stick around for the ride.

Aaron Hotchner/David Rossi

Additional Tags:

Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Alcohol, Drunkenness, Fluff and Smut

Chapter 1: The oracle

He knew he should be listening to Garcia's story about the stray cat she had discovered in the bushes of her apartment building. He should be because it was definitely on the more interesting side of office chat but he wasn't. Instead he was watching his boss, and old friend Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner reaching for a jar of instant coffee (the good stuff the man hid at the very top of the cabinet where only he could just reach at a stretch). Dave couldn't stop himself from staring at the way Aaron's shirt became untucked at the back from his outstretched position revealing a sliver of midriff.

Now Dave knew too well that he was a grown man with plenty of experience considering his three ex-wives and the sight of a sliver of midriff should not enrapture his attention so completely. But the man he was ogling was one of the most private, and put together person in the world. The sight of him showing just the tiniest bit of skin was almost scandalous to Dave and he couldn’t peel his eyes away.

“Is there something wrong with Hotch?”

Garcia startled him from his Aaron watching, catching him off guard. He cleared his throat and pushed down the blush that tried to appear on his cheeks.

“No Penelope Hotch is fine as far as I know.” He said as casually as he could.

There was a look of worry on Garcia’s face that turned into suspicion as she looked back at Rossi questioningly.

“Really sir? You have been watching him a lot lately. Is he sick? Is it the internal damage form Foyet? Will Derek have to take over things while he recovers?” She spoke a mile a minute, panicked and hyper.

Dave couldn’t blame her, he had watched Hotch collapse at the round table, he had been the first to his side cradling his head and trying to get him to respond. It was terrifying seeing the man that was always so strong and unshakeable leading the team one second then unresponsive on the floor the next. He knew it had scared Hotch just as much to have lost control of himself and feel his own body’s weakness for the first time since he had recovered from the stab wounds in the first place.

“Penelope he is absolutely fine. Healthy as a horse, nothing is happening to him and he will be fulfilling all his duties as Unit Chief. Okay?” He tried to reason with her before she tackled the man in a hug thinking it would be her last.

She took a moment to calm her breathing and feel her heart beat slow down to a normal pace. She watched Hotch continue to make his third coffee of the day before she turned back to David.

“Okay, I’m so glad the Bossman is okay but that doesn’t answer why you’ve been staring at him so…OH MY GOD!” Penelope squealed with glee beaming at him.

Dave felt his heart stop.

“Penelope, shhh!” He desperately wanted to keep this conversation private if it was going in the direction he suspected it was.

Penelope grinned at him like the cat who had caught the canary and leaned in conspiratorially.

“You like Hotch” She stated grinning from ear to ear.

Dave sighed, the conversation had lead exactly where he thought it would.

“Okay fine. I like Aaron. Happy?” He whispered back to her.

“Happy? I am ecstatic, you guys would be so so so cute together. When are you gonna tell him?” She was positively beaming at him.

He sighed again, more audibly this time.

“Penelope that’s the thing. I can’t tell him, he has barely started dating people again since Haley. Besides I don’t even know if he likes men and even if he does that doesn’t mean he likes me. Then there’s Jack he has to think about I just can’t take a chance and ruin our friendship.” He could feel the despair spread from him to Garcia and felt bad for unloading the thoughts that had been keeping him up at night for far too long.

Penelope seemed to think on his words some more watching as Hotch walked back up to his office, coffee in hand. She thought about how lonely he must be, always trying to stay on top of his workload and still be there for his son. She thought about the many times he had put the team first, never seeming to give it a second thought. A look of determination took over her features.

“You both deserve to be happy sir and I am going to find the perfect way to help get you together!”

Before he could even begin to tell her that was crazy and to please just forget this entire conversation she had jumped up from the table and flew toward her office in a blur of bright pink and orange. Dave stared at the chair she had just vacated trying to fathom how screwed he was now that Penelope Garcia was going to play cupid with him and Hotch. He almost laughed as he thought about the schemes she must already be drawing up in her lair. He gulped down his coffee and retreated to his office where he planned on hiding for the rest of the day. Maybe this whole thing would blow over. Maybe Garcia would get bored of this project before too much damage was done. Who was he kidding though Garcia won’t stop until both men put their feeling out in the open and Dave couldn’t do much to stop her without revealing his feelings either way.

He sat at his desk and mused on the fact that this whole mess was caused by his wandering eyes and his strange obsession with his uptight boss’ barely exposed midriff. He really had it bad for his friend, he was a mess and he was getting sloppy if Garcia the only member of the team who wasn’t a profiler had called him out on his crush.

He was doomed.

Read the rest of the story here:

Chapter 2

#criminal minds #hotch #Aaron Hotchner/David Rossi #fanfic #aaron hotchner #david rossi

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stayxlix · 10 months

Note

helloooo!!🩵 thank you sm for replying again, you're so cute and nice!😭 And I'm so glad that you agree with me! You understood exactly what I was trying to say and I totally agree with you! Also the part where you said that everything I make is a masterpiece literally made me weak in the knees, you're just nice I want to hug your soul out😭🩵 if this type of love happens to be sprinkled into otde i am literally going to start crying and screaming, I just know that if it's written by you it's going to be way better than I could have ever imagined💗 (alsoo shhh spoiler alert, the moodboard is already in progress and shhhhh the theme is greenish bc i feel like green [and potentially blue or red] fits otde so much) and I've added a couple of songs to the playlist! Also, I'm pretty much daily listening to yours omfg i love it sm! Anddd thank so so MUCH you for enjoying and liking my rants! You really made me blush with that bc I was so worried when I was sending u my first ask bc it was so long, and when you replied and it was just as long I was jumping in excitement! I love your replies bc they always feel like you truly paid attention to what I wrote in my ask, and that is just so lovely and nice gooosh ilysm💗 also did you just say that my ask gave you some motivation?!?!?!? I FEEL SO PROUD NOW AHAGWGWGWG

Thank you for existing and being so nice Alex, you are really an angel😭🩵 i love you so much and I hope you're doing well, dearest💗 as always, stay safe and have an amazing week! Lots of hugs🩵

well hello again🩵🩵 i was hoping I might hear from you this week🤭

how have you been?? i hope you’ve had a good start to your week<3 you are the sweetest, i wish i could reach through my phone and give you the biggest hug for being so kind to me😭💕 i love your ideas, i feel like our minds must work similarly because what you sent last time really clicked with me. with otde and just in general, and i can’t reveal any spoilers of course🫢 but i really mean it when i say that the trope you brought up fits otde lix/mc like it was MADE for them (shhhhh but just between us i may or may not already be thinking of ways that i might be able to weave it into the story..🤫) i swear whenever i finish reading one of your asks i feel so giddy like i actually can’t stop smiling, your kindness is palpable through the screen, and i am forever thankful that you have chosen to share it with me🩵🩵🥹

…THE MOODBOARD IS ALREADY IN PROGRESS?! (sorry for shouting I know we’re supposed to be keeping this a secret here) but HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CONTAIN MY EXCITEMENT ahhhhhhdjdjebwn🫠 omg i think green absolutely fits otde (once again you’ve read my mind lol) i’m also partial to red too because its my favorite color, and in a way i feel like the two colors red/green could represent our main characters??? hmm…i know i’m rambling but it might be something to think about lol. oh and i did happen to notice that you added a couple of songs to the playlist because (no shame) i go there every day lol. it makes me so happy to hear that you like mine too🥹 tbh when i first created it i hadn’t really ever planned on sharing it, but i’m so glad i did💕

my little 🩵 i love your rants almost as much as i love you (and i’m glad you weren’t scared off by how much i tend to write you in response😂) i just get so excited to talk to you😭 so thank YOU for being such a lovely human💕💕 you’re very special to me so you better take care of yourself too, yeah? sending the biggest hug back your way and i’ll be patiently awaiting the next time i see the little blue hearts pop up in my inbox🩵

#otde.feedback #alex answers asks♡#🩵

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narumi-gens · 2 years

Note

Okie I’m callin ya melly bean (like jelly bean ya know?) 💕 I have no idea about a release date for HP, honestly. I agree that there is SO much coming out that I’m kinda just laying here waiting for it to all release so I can get overwhelmed and take forever to start watching hahA (except for CSM that’s getting watched ASAP)

Omg yes I have been reading part 2 and honestly? The first chapter back blew me the fuck away. I was worried like, what if it’s disappointing? What if it doesn’t live up to the hype I had in my head? But what a small minded little bug I am. I am in LOVE with Yoru and can’t wait to see what heart breaking shit she gets up to 😭 Also yes! There was also a cat dude 🥺💕 Seeing him back was so good, I missed him so much I hope Tatsuki gives us more and doesn’t throw a complete curve ball next chapter by starting off with some completely different plot.

UggGGGHHHHHH tired, messy, boys who smoke like a chimney are my absolute weakness! My friends are always telling me to stop going for guys I gotta fix but like, if I don’t fix him then is he really even mine? I binge watched The Bear too and also thought it would be a comedy but it ended up really surprising me. I thought it was shot beautifully and did a great job at portraying grief when it comes to having a loved one unaliving themselves who wasn’t the best person when they were alive but you still miss them like hell and remember them in the best light because what else can you do? (Hit a lil close to home and it’s nice seeing media ditch the bullshit trope of “an angel gained their wings” ya know?)

Alsooooooo I’ve been seeing your Yuri drabbles and that you’re possibly working on a fic for him and !!! He’s my favourite from Spy x Family and I agree there totally isn’t enough content for him and don’t mind me on my knees presenting my cupped hands towards you for a lil sustenance 🤲🏼

😭 Naoya my poor, sad, sack of misogynistic shit I can’t believe what they’ve done to you. I’m not gonna act like it isn’t what he deserves but WE deserve some pretty boy Naoya even though I know we are 100% not gonna get it 🥲 At least we’re getting feral Maki <333

This ask has been SO freaking long and I’m sorry but I had to mention one more thing! I feel like we seriously have the same taste when it comes to the entertainment we like to consume (whether it be music, manga or television) so I was wondering if you’ve seen The Boys? I just started watching it and I’m already on season 2! I would love to talk (write) your ear (eye) off about it if you have!

- 💀 🌸 (Glad to hear you’ve been doing well! Remember to drink water and give Miso lots of kisses on the nose 💕)

We can always count on Fujimoto to do the exact opposite of what we're expecting. "Oh, you've been waiting a year and a half for CSM to come back? Well here's a brand new character with no mention of the old protagonist and I'm gonna make you fall in love with her immediately." And I did, I so did. I love how pathetic she is and how clumsy she is and how deep down she's just so kind 🥺 This last chapter was seriously one of my fave CSM chapters. Like probably a top 10 or even top 5 chapter. I'm just soooo happy it's back 🥰

Yeah, I really loved how The Bear looked at grief and was like "there are just some things you're never to know about a person or from a person when they're gone and you just have to make your peace with it." Like what a gut punch. Almost as much of a gut punch as Carmy's "I don't ask ppl how they're doing bc I don't know what to say when ppl ask me how I'm doing." Alsooooo....Jeremy Allen White just did one of those "essential things" GQ videos and I'm just so in love with him 😭😭😭😭

Omg that Yuri fic is getting some real big hype and I'm so sorry to everyone who's going to have to wait like a year for it to come out bc I am a s l o w writer lol but there really is such a lack of Yuri content out there that it's upsetting 😡 So even it takes me ages, I will get that fic out. It's going on the wip list in my pinned!

I actually haven't seen The Boys! When it came out and everyone first got into it, I was like "oh it's just an adult version of BNHA" but now I'm so profoundly uninterested in BNHA that it might be a good time to start. Plus there's like 3-4 seasons now so plenty of episodes to catch up on... 🤔

Always feel free to drop in my inbox lovely 💕💕💕 (I will drink lots of water but I will not kiss Miso on the nose bc she hates that. But she does love giving kisses. Sometimes I'll be sitting on the couch and won't realize she's behind me and all of a sudden she'll start licking my hair to clean me bc she thinks I'm her baby and not the other way around 🥺)

#mel answers

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Note

hi dear!! do you think that you could do a loki laufeyson smut oneshot with the prompt “Doing so good for me, honey.” it’s okay if not!! thank you for considering!

Slow and Sweet

Relationship: Loki x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, penetrative sex, dirty talk - 18+, minors DNI

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This uses some of my favorite cheesy tropes so I hope that’s okay! thank you so much for requesting, I hope this was alright!

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Loki was unlike any other lover you had had before. A literal god, he exuded a dominance both inside and outside the bedroom that you were very much addicted to. He knew how to take care of you in every way shape and form, having you weak and babbling as he pulled pleasure out of you for hours in bed using ropes, toys, degradation… Anything to get you off in the rawest way possible.

And you very, very much enjoyed it all, obviously. Loki’s style of loving was so fresh and inviting. You had never been with a man that could be so commanding. Heck — you never thought you’d be attracted to any kind of commanding from any man. But while he brought out a secret primal side in you, at heart, you were still a sucker for softer, more loving nighttime activities.

You just… You just didn’t know how to bring it up with him. For as much of a confident man he could be, you knew some insecurities lied beneath that armor. He was always very insistent at the end of your nights that you let him know if you enjoyed yourself. You certainly never lied but you also really, really craved something slow.

Still unsure, you called a friend one night to vent and hope she had some ideas. Really, though, she didn’t understand your dilemma.

"Girl, you’re getting railed by an Asgardian God. I don’t understand the problem."

You sighed into the phone, gripping it between your shoulder and cheek as you began prepping dinner. "I don’t know. I just want him to be a bit softer, I think. Maybe something closer to love-making."

She chuckled. "Do you think he even has that in him?"

"Of course," you said. "He’s more than sweet out in public. There’s no reason that can’t translate into the bedroom."

"Well, then I think you should just tell him."

"I know, but-,"

Your words were cut off suddenly but the sound of something loudly hitting the dinner table behind you. You jumped, turning abruptly to find Loki standing in the kitchen, staring you down. He must’ve thrown his book on the table to get your attention. You looked between the item and him.

All while you’re engaged in a staring contest with your visibly confused boyfriend, your friend is screaming at you on the other end of the line asking what happened.

"I-I’ll call you back," you said quickly into the receiver before ending the call. The vibe in the room had gone cold. You didn’t know how but you knew Loki knew.

Still, you forced a smile, deciding maybe it was best to act like you weren’t discussing such intimacies with a third party. "Hey, babe," you said before turning back to the food you were preparing.

Loki didn’t respond and you were way too nervous to look over your shoulder. You focused on the slicing of vegetables very, very closely…

A hand landed on your hip. He was behind you now. You could practically feel him breathing down your neck. His hard body was pressed to your back. But nothing about him seemed to scream angry or hurt. He was amazingly calm.

"Who was that on the phone?" Loki asked. He was just about whispering in your ear. You gulped, trying to keep your focus on the cutting board in front of you.

"My- My friend," you responded. Another hand was suddenly on your other hip, pulling you into your boyfriend. You sighed at the contact.

"That’s nice," he hummed. "Must be good to catch up with your friend."

"Yeah-,"

"But tell me, dear, do your conversations together always end up with you complaining about our sex life?"

You shook your head. "Loki, I wasn’t complaining-,"

"You want me to be softer," he gritted.

You sighed, placing your kitchen knife back on the counter and pushing away the vegetables. Dinner was definitely on hold now. "That doesn’t mean I’m complaining," you explained. "I love what we do so much, you make me feel incredible, but I also want to slow down sometimes. I’ve loved exploring the rougher side of sex with you, I just… I want the other side of it, too. A balance, maybe."

There was a lull for a moment before Loki hesitantly spoke, "I’m afraid I won’t know how to."

You closed your eyes, absolutely dreading hearing the words you had feared. But you pulled through, slowly nodding your head, trying to accept it. "Alright, I understand—"

"But I want to try."

"Y-You do?"

He nodded as one of his hands slowly began creeping its way up and under your blouse. His hands were so rough compared to your soft skin. As Loki’s hand brushed over your bra-covered breasts, warm lips began decorating your neck with kisses. He nipped and sucked still but it was nothing compared to how he used to do it. It didn’t feel like he was trying to devour but instead savor you.

"Is this close to what you had in mind?" Loki asked, his voice dropping lowly. You moaned in response as his hand began traveling south, fingers light and delicate as they skimmed the top of your shorts.

Your eyes slowly drifted shut in anticipation as you murmured, "Feels good…"

Loki tsked. His hand stopped. "You haven’t felt anything yet."

There was a swooshing sound. You opened your eyes and in your confusion took in the sights of your bedroom. Loki was still pressed behind you. You were facing the bed.

"If my darling wants traditional loving then it needs to happen in a traditional spot, correct?"

You wanted to comment that being transported to the bedroom in such a manner wasn’t traditional by any means but before you could speak, Loki was guiding you to the bed, sitting you at the edge of it.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. "Are you…" You began to ask but were cut off by him placing a kiss in your inner thigh.

"Now," he mumbled into your skin, "I prefer to feast rather hungrily but I’m going to try it your way, okay?"

You bit your lip, nodding slowly, completely hypnotized by the sight of Loki kneeling for you. Usually, when he ate you out you were completely lying down in bed. He had never dropped to the floor for you.

"Terrific," he said and with a flick of the wrist, your clothes had vanished.

Again, you wanted to bite back that that certainly wasn’t part of old-fashioned love-making but your protests were silenced by his tongue finding your clit. Gently, he moved in soft, tight circles around your clit before testing your folds. Instinctively, your hands flew to his hair, tangling your fingers in his dark locks as your body arched in pleasure.

Loki let out a low hum at your grip before his tongue slowly maneuvered its way inside you, caressing your folds. You gasped as his tongue worked on you, bringing you closer to an orgasm. He began altering now from your folds to your clit, pulling pleasure in surprising ways. To add to it all, Loki’s hands were running up and down your thighs as he went. You didn’t know what it was about the simple touch but it was driving you crazy.

The longer you stared, the faster the tongue worked, the closer you were getting… Your brain was spinning as you felt your orgasm building.

"I-I’m-," you tried muttering out but Loki seemed to get the memo. Abruptly, he removed all contact. You gasped, a bit surprised, a bit angry. You shot daggers at him.

"Patience, honey," he snickered, "You wanted it slow and sweet, didn’t you?"

"Yes, but…" Your words couldn’t finish, once again, as Loki attached his lips to yours. Slowly, he pushed you back on the bed as your tongues now fought with one another. You were completely encapsulated in tasting remnants of yourself on him and the kind way he was kissing you, you didn’t even realize what was happening until your head hit your pillow.

His lips left yours and began working down to your jaw, your neck, across your breasts… It felt like he was loving every inch of your skin. You felt truly beautiful, admired, at that moment as he practically worshipped you. He placed a quick kiss on your clit and you thought maybe he’d continue his actions down there but then he was back, face level with you.

"Fair warning, darling," Loki whispered, "it’s going to take all the patience I possess to go slow once my cock is buried deep in your soaking core."

His gaze was intense, almost too much, but you just nervously nodded and waited. Loki intertwined one of your hands together while the other one fell to your hip. Typically, at this point he’d just grab your waist and pull you into him, never giving you the chance to breathe or adjust. He’d fuck you a bit wildly, letting bruises from his fingertips litter your skin.

Tonight, though, everything was with a lighter touch. And when he entered you, he stopped halfway, letting you both really feel the moment. You moaned at the fullness as Loki groaned in your ear. When settled, he eased in fully and you were just about done for.

You could see Loki resisting the urge to just take you relentlessly but then he placed a gentle kiss on your lips and pulled out a little, slowly, before diving back in. Your back arched as you felt every inch of him, really felt him. It was so snug but just right. You felt your wetness pooling shamelessly.

"That’s it," Loki groaned as his pace continued at a slightly antagonizing slow rhythm. "Doing so good for me, honey."

"Feels amazing…" You sighed, taking in every time Loki’s cock would nudge the right spot or stretch you just a little bit more. It felt… It felt like a first time. Like you two had been saving this moment.

Loki’s pace picked up just slightly and you knew he was getting close. That was maybe one thing he could never resist — chasing his orgasm with you at all cost. You snaked your free hand down to your clit, working for that extra pleasure but Loki’s hand on your hip quickly pushed it away.

"I’ve got you, darling," he whispered and replaced your fingers with his. He rubbed tight, cautious circles on your clit. You squealed as your orgasm began approaching quicker and quicker.

"Please," you begged, "I need to cum." Loki could never resist your begging and it seemed to drop the facade a bit. The circles and pumping picked up even faster. It hit you at that moment that while you loved the slow foreplay, getting fucked in such unconventional ways was really delightful.

Loki must’ve felt your walls tightening because he mumbled, a bit weakly, "Cum for me, dear. Come on, cum for me."

A few more flicks on your clit and you were there. Your back arched off the bed again as your body shook. Your orgasm filled you just as Loki was now filling you. The warmth of both actions consumed your body, bringing pleasure beyond belief. You twisted and turned on the bed as you two slowly came down from the highs.

Loki gently wrapped his arms around you, still huffing and puffing from his own pleasure. He was still inside you as he laid on the bed. You could feel his release leaking out of you and onto your thighs. You sighed, very content.

"Was… Was that okay?" Loki eventually hesitantly asked. You were watching the ceiling, still trying to get your breathing under control, as he stared at you. He disconnected your hands and began carefully running his fingers through your hair, lovingly.

You nodded. "That was lovely," you smiled. "Thank you."

"I just want to make sure that every time you leave this bed, you’re satisfied."

"I-I didn’t mean to make you think I’m not satisfied," you mumbled. "I’m always pleased when you’re pleasing me."

Loki grinned at the silly phrase. "Good," he said then began moving a sneaky hand down your body. It stopped where you two were still connected. You let out a sharp breath at his touch. "Would a round two be satisfying? You’ve had your love-making. Now I want to fuck you."

You could barely nod your head in response before Loki was pouncing on you.

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valdomarx · 4 years

Text

A Marriage of Convenience

Octoberfest romcom tropes day 1: fake dating

Jaskier pushed his ale aside and broke the wax seal on the letter. As he read the contents, his face pinched into a frown.

“Anything important?” Geralt asked, glancing up from his soup.

Jaskier chewed his lower lip. “Not really. It’s from my family.” He took a breath. “They’re going to disinherit me.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What did you do this time?”

Jaskier scoffed. “Nothing, thank you very much! But it’s my 35th birthday next month, and the stipulations of the Lettenhove family will are quite clear. If the oldest son isn’t married by the age of 35, inheritance passes to the next married cousin.”

“Very keen on weddings in Lettenhove, are they?”

“Rather less keen on unmarried bachelors, actually.”

Geralt grunted. “That’s too bad. I imagine a viscount’s fortune could have come in handy for you.”

“Oh, I don’t care about the money.” Jaskier waved a hand dismissively. “It’s just,” he sighed. “I have younger sisters who rely on me for support. If the inheritance goes to cousin Edward, he’ll turn them out without a penny to their names.”

“That’s unkind.”

“It is.” Jaskier slumped. He was glad to have left Lettenhove and its court intrigues behind, but the thought of his sisters being at the mercy of his greedy cousin was unconscionable. He knew too well all the terrible things that could befall a woman alone in the world.

“This will,” Geralt said, stirring his soup absentmindedly, “does it have any rules about who you have to marry?”

“No. Any old wedding will do. But it’s not like I’m going to find anyone willing to tie themselves to me in the next month.”

Geralt shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll marry you.”

Jaskier choked on his ale. “You?”

“Why not?”

“Because…” he broke off and mopped the sweat from his brow. Because I’ve been in love with you for decades. Because I’ve fantasised about you saying this in a million different ways. Because having to pretend it’s real is going to break my heart.

Geralt reached over the table and patted his hand. “It’ll just be pretend,” he said, as if that were in any way reassuring. “This is a problem easily solved. Let me help you.”

Jaskier sagged. This was going to be a disaster.

“This is going to be a disaster!” Jaskier paced anxiously around their room. “There are so many ways this could go horribly wrong.”

Geralt sat on the bed counting bundles of herbs. “It’ll be fine.” He was infuriatingly calm. “We’ll head to Lettenhove, have a quick wedding, get your family off your back, and be on our way. It’ll only take a few days.”

“But,” Jaskier kept pacing. “We’ll have to. You know. We’ll have to do couple things. There are certain… expectations of a newly married pair.”

Geralt got to his feet and placed his hands on Jaskier’s shoulders, stopping his anxious traipsing. “We’ll manage. Can’t be any worse than fighting drowners.”

Jaskier looked into amber eyes and felt his heart turn over in his chest. “Everyone will expect us to be holding hands, and kissing, and gods know what else. And you can’t do that.” He sighed. “You don’t even like men.”

Geralt leaned in closer, close enough that strands of his silver hair tickled Jaskier’s cheek. “I like men just fine,” he said, and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Then Jaskier did something terribly foolish. His body moved before his mind, his feet stepping closer, his arms wrapping around Geralt’s neck. He kissed him, hard, and to his astonishment Geralt kissed him back hungrily, lips parting to allow Jaskier to taste him fully, tongue exploring, hands roaming, and by the time they broke apart Jaskier was flushed and breathing hard.

“See?” Geralt said, his deep voice sending a shiver up his spine. “We can do this.”

Jaskier wrote to his family to tell them the good news, and he and Geralt wasted no time in heading off to Lettenhove. The journey was long but nothing they were unused to. They traveled by day, slept under the stars by night, and Geralt even picked up a few quick contracts to help pay their way.

It was comfortable, and normal, and Jaskier could almost forget about what he was about to put himself through.

At least, until they reached the outskirts of Lettenhove and they heard the whoosh of an incoming portal. The ground shook, the air rippled, and through the rent in reality stepped Yennefer, terrifying and beautiful as ever.

She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow at them. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

Jaskier couldn’t even bring himself to come up with a snarky reply as she swept past him and went to Geralt. He stood back and watched the two of them, powerful and dazzling together, each other’s equals in capability and composure.

He had never had a chance in this competition, he thought bitterly. He would be pretending with Geralt, while she had his heart for real.

Jaskier was left at camp while Geralt and Yennefer went off to do... whatever it was they did together. (He could guess what that was.) He spent a cold, lonely night with no one but Roach for company, berating himself for feeling so hurt by something he knew from the beginning was nothing but a ruse.

With their arrival in Lettenhove proper, there was nothing to do but face his family. The brightest spot of his day was walking into the estate and having his sisters squeal and jump on him just as they had done as children.

He stopped laughing and caught his breath long enough to introduce them. “Essi and Priscilla, this is Geralt.” My husband to be, he thought, and something twisted inside him at that. “Geralt, these are my troublesome sisters.”

Essi dipped her head and Priscilla performed a theatrical bow. “We were wondering if Jaskier would ever settle down,” Essi said with a sly smile.

“But seeing how handsome you are, I can’t blame him!” Priscilla replied, and the two of them broke into fits of giggles.

Geralt, for his part, took them with good humour. Where Jaskier had been expecting him to be dour, he smiled indulgently and took each of their hands in turn and pressed a kiss to their knuckles, resulting in another uproar of giggling.

“Thank you for that,” Jaskier said quietly as they made their way to the room waiting for them.

Geralt inclined his head. “Have to make a good impression on the future in-laws,” he said, the corner of his lips quirking upward in amusement.

The rest of his family were predictable as clockwork. Cousin Edward was sour, his father was distant, and his mother was simply relieved to see him married off as was proper. Geralt sat through all of it with more patience and good grace than Jaskier would have thought him capable of.

The day of the wedding itself passed in a blur. With such short notice the ceremony was terribly paired down by noble standards, but still, there was the formal breakfast, the dressing in formal garments, the journey to the temple outside of the city, the clamour of priestesses and officials and his family, the exchanging of rings, the reading of texts, and of course the formal dinner.

Jaskier barely remembered any of it. Looking back, the only thing that stuck out in his mind was the feeling of Geralt’s hand clasping his own during the handfasting. And the way that, whenever he was feeling overwhelmed over the course of the day, Geralt’s hand would find his own and give a comforting squeeze.

Finally the ceremonies were complete and they were left in peace in their chambers, the two of them alone for the first time all day. Geralt’s hair had been braided into two slim plaits running either side of his face, though by now they were starting to become mussed. He’d even put on a shirt of dark blue silk as opposed to his standard uniform of all black. The effect was quite stunning.

As the door closed, Jaskier’s shoulders slumped and he breathed for what felt like the first time in hours.

Geralt cupped one cheek tenderly. “You good?”

Jaskier exhaled, letting the anxiety and stress of the day slowly unwind. He looked into Geralt’s warm eyes and felt, for once, safe and unjudged. “I’m good.”

Geralt brought their lips together, soft as could be, and Jaskier’s knees shook. He grabbed Geralt’s forearms to hold himself upright and, desperate for some sort of control, some sort of meaning, he pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss.

This was a bad idea, he was aware, but Geralt felt so good in his arms. He ran his hands through silky silver hair like he’d always wanted to, he pressed himself close to that muscled chest he’d spent more time than he should have admiring, and he moaned unrestrainedly when Geralt picked him up, locking his legs around his waist.

This was a terrible idea, he knew, but Geralt carried him over to the bed with firm, confident steps, and the temptation to touch, to hold, to kiss was overwhelming. This would only lead to heartache, but he was weak in the face of love, as always.

Geralt laid him out and took him apart with soft lips and careful fingers and a wicked tongue, and it was everything he’d been dreaming of for years, and yet so much more intense than anything he could have imagined. Geralt was dazzling beneath him, warm amber eyes and pale scarred flesh, beautiful and kind and more than he could possibly deserve.

Nuptial celebrations in Lettenhove were mercifully brief, and with the ceremony completed and recorded to the satisfaction of the genealogists, they were free to depart.

There were, however, some customs which could not be avoided.

“You’ll be honeymooning nearby?” Jaskier’s mother asked, with the understanding that this was not a question.

“Actually, we thought -”

“They’ll be staying in my cottage, won’t you?” Priscilla interjected. She’d availed herself of her position, such as it was, to secure a tiny ramshackle cottage on the Kerack coast. It wasn’t opulent but it was, thankfully, far from prying eyes.

Jaskier gave her a tiny nod of thanks and she winked.

“A cottage?” His mother’s lip turned up in distaste. “How quaint.”

“And there’s ever so much to pack, so we must be on our way -” he excused himself with a bow, tugging Geralt behind him.

Out of the view of their parents, Priscilla and Essi set upon him with hugs and kisses, thanked him for saving them from the horrors of cousin Edward, and packed up an obscene quantity of cheeses and wine to take with them.

By the time they departed the estate, Jaskier was even smiling.

It was quiet and calm on the coast. The cottage overlooked the sea, rolling and tempestuous, and had just enough space for a kitchen, a bed, and a bath. They had everything they needed, even a stable for Roach outside.

Even though it was only for a few days, Jaskier imagined Geralt would be bored and unhappy, feeling trapped in a place so small. But he seemed content: riding along the coastline in the morning, brushing Roach out, going fishing in the afternoon, preparing the catch for their evening meal.

Jaskier showed him his favourite spices and how to prepare the fish with butter to make it rich and indulgent, and in the quiet moments he wrote poetry or simply sat on the battered chair on the porch of the cottage and watched the waves.

Geralt returned to the cottage with a net bulging with fish and a smile on his face. He’d been doing that more recently, Jaskier had noticed, smiling in a way that seemed natural and unforced. He even left his armour and swords in the cottage and waded down to the sea in just his trousers and shirtsleeves, disarmingly casual.

It was comfortable, almost domestic.

And it was a torment, showing Jaskier a tiny glimpse of a life he’d never have.

Their last night on the coast, Geralt cooked the remainder of their provisions into a feast, poured the best wine they had, and set a fire in the hearth. He piled up blankets and pillows, laid down their warmest furs, and pulled Jaskier into his arms in front of the flames.

“Thank you,” he said, dotting kisses in a line up Jaskier’s neck, “for taking such good care of me.”

Jaskier fidgeted unhappily. “You’re the one doing me a favour,” he reminded him. That seemed important to remember. This was a favour from a friend, nothing more.

Geralt hummed against his neck, the vibrations rippling against his skin. “I can see some advantages to me,” he murmured, continuing his line of kisses up Jaskier’s jaw and toward his lips.

Jaskier, stupidly, allowed Geralt to turn him around, hands delicate around his waist, allowed him to bring their lips together. He allowed a kiss, soft at first, and then another, more intense, moaning into Geralt’s mouth.

“Can I interest you in an early night?” Geralt purred in his ear, and everything in Jaskier’s body said yes, and everything in his mind said no.

Eventually, his mind won out and he pushed Geralt away.

“No,” he said, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I can’t. I won’t. I’m sorry, Geralt, but this was a terrible mistake.”

He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring Geralt’s sad expression. He was hit by the urge to run, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Tears welled in his eyes.

“Hey,” Geralt’s voice was so soft behind him. “It’s okay, Jaskier. Whatever it is. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I won’t do it again.”

Jaskier deflated. He turned to face Geralt, watery eyes and all. “That’s not the problem. I don’t want you to stop. I want this to be real.”

Geralt stood carefully still. “What do you mean, real?”

Jaskier took a breath, tried to imagine how to explain himself, how to convey what he felt. “I’m in love with you!” he snapped in the end. Not his most eloquent work, but perhaps his most honest.

Geralt tilted his head. “I know,” he said. He looked down at the ring on his finger. “Isn’t that the point?”

“The point?” Jaskier exploded. “The point!” He couldn’t stop himself from waving his arms as he ranted. “Oh, sure, I’m certain that the ideal marriage is between one person who’s hopelessly in love and one person who’s indifferent and besotted with another. I’m sure Yennefer will be delighted when she hears about this whole situation.”

Geralt’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’m in love with Yennefer?”

“Yes! Obviously!”

He paused, obviously weighing his words. “That night when she visited us outside Lettenhove, she wasn’t surprised by the news. She told me congratulations, and that it had taken long enough. I think she knew long before I did that I wasn’t in love with her, not really. My heart already belonged to another.”

Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat. “You mean… You and her, you’re not...”

Geralt shook his head. “What she most wants is something I can’t give her.”

“And you?” Jaskier asked, dreading the answer.

Geralt took his hand. “What I most want,” he stroked his thumb over the ring around Jaskier’s finger, “is something I already have.”

Jaskier’s heart leapt. It was almost too much. It was overwhelming. “You really love me?”

Geralt smiled softly. “I really do.”

Jaskier threw himself into Geralt’s lap, arms around his neck, foreheads pressed together. “Tell me again,” he said, because he was needy.

“I love you,” Geralt said, kissing down the side of his face. “I love you,” he said, lacing their fingers together against the furs. “I love you,” he said, their bodies moving together, finally free to feel with the intensity they had been hiding for so long, their scents mingling together with the fresh salt tang of the sea.

The sun shone brightly and the wind whipped their hair as they packed up Roach the next morning. Jaskier paused to admire the view one last time: The rolling waves, the steep cliffs, the shingled beach.

Geralt slipped his arms around his waist from behind and dropped a kiss just beneath his ear.

“What does our life look like now?” Jaskier asked, eyes on the waves.

He felt Geralt’s smile against his hair. “Much the same as before,” he said. “With perhaps a few improvements.”

Jaskier turned then and kissed him fully, no need to hold himself back, taking Geralt’s hand and running his fingers over the ring there.

“Ready to head back to the Path?”

Geralt smiled, and Jaskier would never tire of that. “Ready if you are,” he said with softness in his eyes, “husband.”

#this just in: i am secretly soft #squeezing this in before midnight #geraskier #lesdemonium #thank you for the prompt inspo!!#octoberfest #the witcher #my writing

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yee-fxcking-haw · 4 years

Text

•Forget That Extra•

Summary: Porn with very little plot, just a lot of self induldent smut then some super soft Bakugo. FWB trope and all. This one gets RIGHT INTO THE NEWS (starts with smut immediately) so strap in.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader (both Bakugo and Reader are aged up to 18+)

Warnings: Rough sex, degredation, impact play, choking, ddlg terms, squirting, spitting, dumbification, a dash of breeding/impregnation kink, unprotected sex, overstimulation if you squint, multiple orgasms, marking, possession kink, switch reader, switch Bakugo. (Primarily submissive reader with primarily dominant bakugo.)

Word count: 7,402

A/N: This was,,,, depraved,, and it's only gonna get worse.

Part Two • Part Three

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"Fucking- shit- you take this cock so fucking well." Bakugo huffs out as he plows into you from behind, he punctuates his sentence with a harsh slap to your ass. The action earns a high pitched moan from you. Your right hand flies to his headboard, desperate for some kind of a brace against his punishing thrusts.

Sex with Bakugo has always been like this, rough, fast, and urgent. Everything he does in the bedroom is exactly what you would expect from somebody with his explosive personality. You two had started out as "just friends", with immense tension, until one day that tension broke and you introduced the benefits side to your relationship. It happened in an abandoned janitor's closet in the building of the hero agency you both worked at. Ever since then you became Katsuki Bakugo's personal plaything. Your little arrangement had created something truly volatile. One minute you would be all over each other, the next not even willing to speak to each other. You would never cross over the line into an actual relationship, though. That was the only rule set for this shitshow you've both created.

You're in your current predicament because you were caught flirting with some extra at the bar you two were at while Bakugo was in the bathroom. While you're not technically his, he's very territorial. He's decided to teach you a lesson of sorts about flirting behind his back. Something he has no right to do given the dynamic of your relationship, but you're more than willing to pretend if it means he'll rail you like he is right now.

"Who's pussy is this?" He nearly yells as his hand fists into your hair so he can yank you up, your back bends painfully, but you're quickly distracted from the pain by the feeling of his other hand wrapping around your throat.

"I asked you a question bitch, or have I fucked you so stupid you can't even answer?" His tone is nasty, teasing. The harshness of it all renders you incapable of articulating anything. All you can do is moan like a whore while he drills his thick cock in and out of you. His hips slam against your ass and you can feel your juices dripping down the insides of your thighs. Only Bakugo can get you like this, you want to tell him too. You want to stroke his already pompous ego, but all you can do is cry out and take what he's giving you.

"You're so fucking wet, bet you would've let anybody fuck you, huh? You- little -whore." He says the last three words with malice, ramming himself into you as each one leaves his mouth. The hand that isn't on your throat snakes around your waist to tease your clit, he doesn't do much though, just rubs light and slow and it drives you fucking insane. You can feel your body begging for an orgasm, but with the way he's touching you, all you can do is sit on the edge and wait for him to have mercy. Your walls flutter slightly, but not enough to bring you much satisfaction. You groan impatiently, biting your bottom lip hard enough to break the skin. Bakugo chuckles behind you, the sound irritates the hell out of you. Of course he's laughing at you.

"What's wrong baby? Can't cum unless I make you?" He sneers against your neck, he finishes the sentence by releasing your neck just so he can plant his hand between your shoulder blades and force your chest against the bed. Your back arches up in that sinful way you know he loves. His thrusts have slowed slightly, becoming almost gentle, his left hand is still roped around your body so his rough middle finger can trace lazy circles on your clit.

You bury your face in the mattress and cry out, you're right fucking there. Your body is screaming for it, it's like your orgasm is starting but it won't progress past the feeling of falling. It's almost fucking painful. You hear his dark laugh fill the room again and you want nothing more than to turn around and deck him in his handsome face.

He bends down and gathers your hair again, this time his movements are more guiding than demanding. He pulls your roots to turn your face to the side, he presses a sloppy kiss against your temple. His hips continue their lazy push and pull out of your soaked cunt. You let out a pathetic sob like sound and ball the sheets in your fists.

"What is it baby- tell me what you need." He's taunting you again, his voice has that teasing edge. He fucking knows what you want, but he won't give it to you until you say it. Anger bubbles in your chest, creating a strong desire to be defiant. You'll definitely pay for it, but you love it when he gets pissed off.

"I need to cum." You moan, trying to sound pitiful and desperate. You pout slightly, knowing your antics will spur him on.

"Do you think you deserve that?" He growls as he applies just slightly more pressure to your clit, only enough to tease you, making your walls ache and your head spin.

"I bet- fuck Katsuki-" You choke when he pushes himself all the way into you, circling his hips a little once he's fully encased by your soaked hole.

"You bet what?" His voice is dripping with amusement, it pulls you back down to earth long enough to spit out the words you know he'll make you pay for.

"I bet that extra could've made me cum by now." You let your lips pull into a deviant smirk, you look back at him and your chest seizes immediately. His crimson eyes are ablaze with fury, his upper lip pulls up slightly to sneer down at you. He takes a deep breath in, his strong chest expands and your mouth waters at the sweat rolling down his pecs. He stops all movement against you, you internally scream at the loss of stimulation.

He doesn't say a damn word, before you can even say anything to fix this he's ripped himself out of you, his muscular right arm slips around your waist. His hand grabs at your side and he pulls it back swiftly, flipping you onto your back like it's nothing. He leers over you, placing both hands on either side of your head. His movements are slow, almost primal. His gaze is intense and vengeful, you cower beneath him and hold your breath.

He slowly moves his right hand to grasp your chin. You let out a weak breath as soon as his thumb ghosts over your bottom lip. He pulls your soft skin down and you immediately open your mouth to pull his thumb in and swirl your tongue around it. His lack of words and action is making you increasingly nervous for what's going to come next, your heart is hammering in your chest and you have a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. He's never this quiet during sex. He's always groaning or barking orders at you, did you go too far?

"I'm sure he's still there." He sighs, pushing his thumb further into your mouth.

Your face scrunches in confusion. Where is he going with this?

He braces himself on his knees on either side of your hips, straddling you so he can move his left hand up your body. You steal a glance down between your bodies and see his cock is still painfully hard, glistening with the slick you covered him in. The sight makes you sigh against his hand while your eyes flutter back to his. His left hand snakes over your breast, flicking your nipple on his way, the action makes your body jump and him chuckle. Soon his hand is around your throat again, squeezing in a warning way that makes your heart beat even faster.

"How about I find him and bring him back here for you?" His eyes flicker to your mouth, watching you suck his thumb intently.

"But first…" His hand leaves your mouth abruptly so he can grab your jaw again, your mouth hangs open while he chokes you further.

"I'm gonna cover you in my fucking cum so he knows how much of a whore you are." He spits into your mouth then forces your jaw shut, then gives you a fierce look as he raises his eyebrows. Between his brutal words and his feral appearance, you don't dare push it. You swallow like you know he wants and open your mouth to prove that you've done it.

"Good girl." He almost moans the words.

"Is that what you want then?" He growls, visibly irritated by your lack of argument with the implications that you want somebody else to satisfy you. The hand on your throat tightens even more, causing your own hands to inch towards the vice he's created around your airway.

"No- I don't want that." You gasp out, electricity pulsing through you at the intensity of it all.

"So what do you want?" He asks impatiently.

"You- I fuckin- shit- You Katsuki, I want your cock, nobody else's." You're sputtering, white stars start to spark in your eyes.

He tears himself away from, you gasp as soon as your throat is free of his crushing grip. He maneuvers down your body so he's kneeling between your thighs, he gathers your shaking legs and presses them together, letting them lean to the left side slightly. He reaches down his body and grabs his thick cock to start stroking himself lazily. Your walls clench with longing as his deep red eyes glare at you.

"You want this?" He asks, nodding down at his impressive length.

"Please…" Your voice is absolutely pathetic, laced with need, you find yourself grabbing at the sheets again.

He doesn't say anything else, just rolls his eyes then lines his tip up at your entrance. You hiss at the contact, so desperate to be filled by him again.

Much to your dismay, he's pulled back out as soon as he's pressed himself in. Then you feel the most maddening sensation you've ever experienced. He presses his dick right between your thighs, using your slick as lube. Your eyes roll back and you huff, you feel the sting of tears gathering and gaze up at him with the most pitiful expression.

"Oh, what's the matter?" Bakugo taunts as he slides his length between your soft thighs again.

"You wanted me to fuck you again, huh?" He asks as his hands trail down the backs of your thighs, coming to the curve of your ass to finish his ministrations with a harsh squeeze.

You nod weakly, the horrible ache in your pussy is absolutely maddening. You take in a shuddering breath as you feel your legs begin to shake slightly. Bakugo doesn't miss this in the slightest, in fact, he seems to get a kick out of your desperation. His face lights up in a ferocious and sadistic way, slowly pulling himself in and out of your squished thighs the whole time.

He brings his hands back up to hook them under your knees so he can spread your legs open again. He glares down at your aching entrance and he lets out a condescending chuckle.

His right hand slithers down to your core, he lets his middle finger skate over your puffy clit. Your whole body jolts at the contact, his eyebrow tweaks up at your reaction, that knowing smirk spreads across his face.

"There is one way you can get this cock inside of you again." He drawls.

This grabs your attention shamefully fast, you shift so you're braced on your elbows. He lets himself settle down between your legs so his hot breath can fan over your dripping folds.

"I'll do it, whatever it is, please Katsuki." You're more than just slightly embarrassed to be pleading in this way, but your body needs release desperately, so your pride is nearly non-existent.

"You can squirt for me." His words send a chill right up your spine. You shiver in anticipation and relax against his touch. He presses his lips into the inside of your thigh as his arms snake around your legs so he can hold them against his strong shoulders. He gives you a few more gentle kisses, nipping your heated skin every once in a while.

His eyes flicker up to yours, the beautiful scarlet irises are flooded with lust and his pupils are blown wide. The sight of him looking at you like that from between your legs makes your chest ignite with exhilarating desire. He opens his mouth, letting his tongue loll out, not breaking eye contact for a second. He flicks the tip of it over your clit with lightning speed, you throw your head back and huff at his agonizing teasing.

You're jolted back to reality with smack the side of your leg with brutal force. The sharp sting makes your walls contract as a whimper leaves your throat.

"Eyes on me, sweet girl." He mumbles against you, lips pressing into your clit as he sighs.

You internally scream, you want to tell him to use his mouth on you, you want to tell him to quit his teasing and be a man. You don't fucking dare though, you're miserable enough.

Then he finally licks a long strip up your lips, letting the tip of his tongue flick your clit like he did seconds ago. This time he applies more pressure and moves slower. Your body reacts instantly, cunt clenching as your thighs jerk inwards. He absolutely hates that, he growls and pulls his hands from your hips to press them against the insides of your thighs so he can pry your legs open.

"Don't make me tie these down." He warns, giving you no time to answer before pressing his hot mouth back against where you need him most.

You cry out but you don't dare let your head fall back, remembering his command from before. Your head is spinning and your body is trembling against your will. He's completely devouring you, his mouth is creating lewd smacking sounds as he tongues your aching clit. Before you can't even process it when you feel two of his thick fingers shove into your fluttering cunt.

"Fucking hell, Katsuki!" You cry as he starts to pump his digits in and out of you, his tongue doesn't slow down at all as he finger fucks you furiously.

Your nerves are on fire as the pleasure in your center builds until you're on the edge again. Your body's reaction is to squeeze your legs together. Just as you start to pull them inwards slightly Katsuki raises the hand that isn't two knuckles deep inside you and lets it fall against the inside of your thigh with a crack. The sweet sting makes you moan, you're pushed even closer to your release and you feel an unnatural pressure build close to where he's working your cunt.

"I'm gonna- oh my god- Baby, I'm gonna-" You spit the words out between gasps, the confirmation that you're about to give him what he wants only spurs him on further. His fingers move even quicker, he lets them curl up against the sponge-like skin, jerking his wrist harshly. As soon as the pads of his fingers find that sweet spot inside you, the dam breaks. Your body collapses against the bed as your back arches off the sweat soaked sheets.

"Oh that's it baby girl, that's what I wanna see." He huffs out as you start to squirt around his fingers. He's replaced his tongue with his other hand, letting his middle finger flick your clit in fervent up and down motions. The change of stimulation has you crying out and thrashing your head as you squirt forcefully, the feeling is so foreign and intense. Blinding pleasure catches every single nerve of your body on fire as your pussy clenches and gushes against him. It's almost embarrassing but it feels so incredible.

"-Feels so fucking good, Suki don't fucking stop." You wail, hands grasping at the bed as your hips lift up. Your cunt gives him one last powerful burst as you sob his name over and over.

He keeps his hands working against you, but slows his movements down as he watches your body ease back out of its rapturous pleasure. As soon as you're flat against the mattress again and he sees you catch your breath, he rips his hands away from you. You want to object, but before you can he's shoving his fingers into your mouth. Your own spunky flavor spreads across your taste buds as you suck him into your mouth so you can clean your release off.

"First of all, don't tell me what to do." He huffs as he pulls his fingers out so he can capture your jaw in a possessive grasp.

"Second of all, I'm not going to stop until you want to fucking worship me." His words send you reeling, still trying to catch your breath from the electrifying orgasm he's just given you.

He bends down and kisses you fiercely, all teeth and tongue as he claims your mouth.

He pulls away and settles back onto his knees between your legs. His hands trail down your sides, his feathery touch raises goosebumps all over your flushed skin.

"You were such a good girl." He mumbles as his hand comes to grasp his hard length, he strokes it lazily as he looks down at you.

You lick your lips at the sight, of course he doesn't miss the action. He lets out a patronizing chuckle.

"Is this what you want?" He asks with a mocking tone.

"Yes." You say quietly, your voice is ragged from your previous cries.

His eyebrows shoot up as he lets himself drop to cage you with his arms. He shoves your drenched thighs apart with his knee so he can settle between them. He presses himself against your folds and you his at the teasing sensation.

"Yes what, baby?" The sweet nickname betrays his menacing tone.

Your hands slide up to claw at his muscular sides, your lip quivers and your thighs squeeze his hips.

"Yes, Daddy, I want you to ruin me with that cock." Your voice is light and begging, just like he likes it.

He glares down at you, still pissed at you for bringing up the guy from the bar, but you see the small crack in his facade at your confession. You decide to keep running with your little desperate act. Well, it's not really an act, you truly are so fucking desperate for him. Pride be damned, you need to get railed.

"I'm so sorry I said anything about that stupid extra." You sigh, letting your hands slide up his tense abs.

"He could never make me feel like you do. Nobody ever could." Your hands find their place on the sides of his face, you let your hips roll up against his aching length as you bat your eyelashes.

"Do you mean that?" He asks. The tone in his voice throws you off. He's the one that sounds desperate now, like he wants you to keep reassuring him. Of course he fucking does. He said it himself, he wants you to worship him.

"Nobody has ever made me come that hard before." You admit. His face almost quivers at your words. You take advantage at the moment of weakness, you wrap your strong thighs around his hips and flip you both so you're straddling him. It's a gamble of a move given how much you just pissed him off, but he's all too ready to have his ego stroked. He submits to you beautifully, allowing you to settle on top of his lap so you can run your slick center on his needy dick. His hands cling to your hips, finger tips digging in when you rake your own hands through his messy blonde spikes.

"You make me feel so good, Suki." You whisper against his ear, reveling in the way his entire body relaxes. Maybe he doesn't need to dominate you, maybe he needs you to prove your devotion to him.

"Yeah? Is that right?" He tries to maintain his intimidating tone, but the feeling of his tip against your soaking hole makes him bite his lip while his eyes roll back.

"That's right baby, your name is the only name I want to scream." You punctuate your sentence with a nip at the soft skin under his ear.

A sweet, breathy moan escapes his throat. Now it's your turn to be power hungry.

You snake your hand up to his jaw, letting your fingers grasp the tense flesh with a delicate hold. His eyes meet yours and it takes every ounce of self control in your body to hold you back from jumping on his dick right that second. He's looking up at you with big, doe like eyes. Desperation is etched on every handsome feature, it's enough to make your knees go weak.

"Can I please make you feel good?" You ask sweetly, letting your thumb trace over his kiss-swollen bottom lip. He just nods and sighs, never letting his eyes leave yours for a second.

You roll your hips against him again, the action only makes his grip on your hips tighten as he throws his head back.

"You're already doin' that." He huffs out. His cheeks have a dusting of blush across them. He looks so beautiful like this, all flushed and desperate. You've never really been in control before, not like this anyway. Sure, you've been on top, but you've never seen Bakugo so… submissive?

You grab the sides of his face instinctively, pulling him towards you to place a gentle kiss on his lips. He moans into your mouth as he lets his hands snake around your waist to pull you against him. He lifts your torso against his and you bite his bottom lip when you feel the tip of his dick press into your dripping hole. You pull away to glance down at him and you notice the strained look in his ruby eyes.

"Don't hold back, pretty boy." You breathe out. Your words break his resolve completely, he snarls at you as he plants his feet on the bed so he can drive his cock into you with one sharp thrust. You scream his name and throw your hands out to brace against the headboard.

"Are you sure about that, princess?" He taunts as he pulls out again, stopping once his head is pressed at your entrance again.

"Yes- fuck- please fuck me like tha- FUCK!" You don't get a chance to finish your begging, he sinks himself into you again but this time he doesn't stop. His pace is immediately unforgiving, your whole body starts to shake and all you can do is cry out with each thrust.

"That's it, fuckin' scream for me, baby." He pants. His mouth then moves to attack your neck with hot open mouthed kisses and nips. Whiny moans fall from his lips between each bite. The sweet sting of his teeth against the delicate skin sends shocks of pleasure straight to your core where you're being split open by his incredibly harsh thrusts.

"I don't want to ever hear you talk about another man like that, not when I can fuck your cunt like this." He gasps when the words make you clamp down on him even more than you already are. His possessive statement makes you want to submit completely, any hint of the dominance you felt seconds ago flies from your brain. You're left with nothing but the need to surrender and please him.

"I'm sorry." You sob against his shoulder as he kisses your cervix with his pounding.

"For what?" He grunts. He's testing you now, seeing just how far you've slipped into your submissive headspace.

"I'm sorry for even talking to him. He's nothing compared to you, Dynamight." Your voice is filled with broken desperation, your mind is set on earning atonement for your behavior at the bar.

The name sends him over the edge, without stopping his hips he flips you both over so he can shove your back into the bed. One hand flies to the headboard while the other comes down to form a vice around your throat. He doesn't choke you though, just applies enough pressure to keep you on edge. His mind is set more on possession than punishment now.

"Is this how I get you to behave? I gotta fuck you senseless so you'll fucking act right?" He snarls at you, nothing but fury in his eyes as he buries himself in you again and again.

You nod your head furiously, your jaw drops when he delivers a particularly rough thrust that sets all of your nerves on fire. Drool slips out of the side of your mouth and you feel hot tears fall from your eyes. Your legs tremble around him and your hands cling to the sheets as you moan and sob beneath him.

"Who makes you feel this good?" He barks.

"You do." You say pitifully, immediately kicking yourself for not answering him the way you're supposed to.

In a flash his hand has left your throat so he can send his knuckles cracking across your cheek as he back hands you with a growl. The hand comes back to grab your jaw and jerk your head to face him, he brings his hips to an agonizing pace. He rolls his body against your a few times before pressing himself into you completely, then he stops moving completely. You cry and squirm against the painful stretch, blinking up at him with blurry, tear filled eyes.

"You have one more chance." He says against your ear, voice low and full of warning. He lets his hand squeeze your face even more, inevitably decorating your jaw with little bruises.

"Who makes you feel this good?" He asks you again, his voice has a slight tremor to it, giving you a heads up that now is not the time to push him.

"You do, sir." You gasp, another sob wracking your body. You want to push your hips up against his to gain back even a trace of the feeling he was previously giving you. Your body trembles like a leaf when you realize how pathetic your voice still sounds, knowing he won't be satisfied.

"Speak up, bitch." He says, letting his palm crack across your other cheek. The pain makes your pussy clench around him, he just chuckles at your slutty behavior.

"You do, sir!" You try to scream, but you just end up crying. You know you have to look like an absolute wreck.

Out of your peripheral vision his hand moves again and you brace for impact, but he shocks you by placing his hand gently against your check. The hand on the headboard comes down to rest beside your head, letting his body come even closer to you. You gaze up at him and wait with baited breath for his next command.

"That's my girl. Now, beg." He says plainly as he pulls his hips back by barely an inch to rock back into you. The motion pushes more tears out of your eyes and more drool from your mouth.

"Please fuck me, Daddy, please- OH FUCK!" Just like that he's ripping you apart again with his relentless thrusts.

"Thank you, sir! Thank you thank you thank you." You cry like a prayer as your eyes drill shut and your back arches off the bed, your walls seize up and your muscles quake when you hear him moaning praises.

"You're so fucking tight, princess." He knows what he's doing, he knows exactly what to say when you're like this, and it's fucking perfect.

"Thank you, daddy." You sob against the hand still pressed to your cheek, you're both surrendering now. Your bodies are aching for that sweet euphoria you offer each other after all this teasing. His other hand mirrors the one holding your cheek so he can cradle your face and lean his forehead against yours. The tenderness sends you careening towards your orgasm, but you know better than to finish without permission.

"Can I please cum." You beg as your hands slide to his back so you can drag your nails down the sweat soaked skin.

"Not yet, you better fuckin' hold it." He huffs out above you, he brings himself back up to brace on one arm. The other slides down to flip one of your legs up so he can hook it around his elbow. The way this new position has your hips angled is absolutely maddening for both of you. You're spread so wide for him that he's able to plunge into you to the hilt with every thrust, and the way your leg is hiked up makes you feel even tighter around him. An all too familiar pressure builds in your core, your walls flutter and your abs tense as the muscles in your cunt shutter.

"I'm gonna fuckin' squirt again." You pray he doesn't punish you for stating it instead of asking if you could, but the look in his eyes tells you he's not in an orgasm ruining mood. His red eyes light up with an animalistic glare, wild blonde hair glued to his forehead by the sweat pouring out of his overworked body.

"Fuckin' do it then, slut. Let me feel that messy cunt cum all over my cock." That's all it takes.

Your hand flies down to assault your clit, and the stimulation sends you straight into your electric orgasm. Your body convulses against Katsuki as your cunt spasms and gushes around his cock, you revel in the sweet pleasure that spreads between your legs and sob out broken cries. He doesn't slow down his thrusts in the slightest, if anything he speeds up. The sight of you squirting around him turns him completely feral.

"Oh fuck yeah, good girl, fuckin' soak me." His voice shifts to that beautiful higher pitch that makes him sound so needy.

You let out gasps and shrill moans as you come undone, between your fingers and his thrust your release is being spread all over the two of you, inevitably ruining the sheets as well.

"Thank you sir- fuck! Thank you for making me squirt." You moan, fingers slowing down as the gushing from your cunt stops. Nerves twitching with the aftershocks of your blinding release, you gain some mental clarity. As Katsuki continues to drill into you, you make sure to not let your walls relax, desperate to see him come undone. You know exactly what he needs. He needs that big ass ego stroked.

His thrusts slow slightly, setting a much less brutal pace. It's not the slow, sloppy pace he sets when he's close, though. His face is scrunched up in deep concentration, breath leaving his lungs in harsh puffs. While he has stamina unmatched by anybody you've ever slept with, he is human. His body is exhausted from all of the exertion it took to get you to finish so forcefully, you look down his body and see his muscles twitching under his lovely, porcelain skin. You owe him after that, big time. It's your turn to make him a mess.

"You ruined me, Daddy." You say as you watch his eyebrows squeeze together, your tone is feather soft as you run your fingers along his sides. His body reacts with a gorgeous shutter, now you've got him.

"You're the only one baby, only you can make me cum that hard." A stunning moan leaves his throat, your sweet talk is doing a number on him, and a wicked idea enters your brain.

"Let me ride you, please, I wanna make it up to you." You beg.

"Make what up to me?" He's so caught off guard by your request, and the fact that he doesn't immediately know what you're talking about tells you he's hanging on by a thread.

"I was such a bad girl, Daddy. I gotta make it up to you." You say with a sweet, innocent tone. Another gentle moan leaves his mouth and his hips stall slightly. That's the exact window you were looking for. You use the same move you did earlier to roll yourself on top. He huffs out as his back meets the mattress, cock still buried inside you. Your hips settle down against his as you lean forward to press your torso against his. One strong hand slides to squeeze your ass while the other sneaks up your side to grab your breast, skilled fingers pinch the nipple and you hiss at the stimulation. You roll your hips against his as your body sings for him.

"Please, baby." He sighs, leaning up to press a kiss against your collar bone.

The gentleness of his request makes your head spin, as well as his willingness to ask so sweetly. Katsuki doesn't ask for anything in the bedroom, or in general. Seeing him in this submissive state makes your mind and body buzz. If you were in a more sadistic mood, you might want to hear him beg a little more, but your body is already so worn from the intense orgasms he's put you through. You settle for lazily rolling your hips against him, gazing down to watch every gorgeous expression cross his fucked out face. His head falls back and his eyes flutter shut, his lips part as and a strained moan leaves his mouth.

"Look at me, baby, please, I want you to watch me." You coo, letting your hands slide up to run through his messy hair. He opens his mouth to say something, probably sass you for even remotely attempting to give him an order. He's cut off as you raise your hips to back down on his length suddenly.

"Oh shit, keep doin' that." He glances down between your bodies, desperate to see where you're connected.

"This?" You tease as you raise your hips again to repeat the motion, this time setting a gentle pace as you bounce on his cock.

"Yeah, just like that, good girl." He sighs, head falling back. Of course he's not going to listen to your request for him to keep his eyes open, even when he's the one underneath you, he won't be told what to do. You're not in the mood to challenge him though, your overstimulated body is already responding to the feeling of him inside you. You sit up and throw your hair over your shoulder as you bring yourself down against him with more force. You grab his wrists and drag his leathery hands up your sides, causing his eyes to snap open as he lifts his head up to gaze at your bouncing breasts.

"Play with me, Daddy, please." You moan softly, guiding his hands up to grasp your tits. He squeezes them greedily and groans at the feeling of the soft flesh. You plant your hands on his strong chest and focus all of your energy into riding him. As your hips snap down against him, he fills you perfectly and you feel your own orgasm starting to build. You're on a mission though, Katsuki has to cum now, and you know exactly how to make that happen.

"Fuck- I wanna feel you cum baby, please fill me up." You beg as you throw your head back, his hands fly to your waist at your confession and his fingers dig into you.

"Yeah? You desperate for Daddy's cum?" He's maintaining his dominance, but his resolve is crumbling.

You nod fervently, grabbing his right hand so you can bring it to your mouth. You take his thumb into your mouth and wrap your pouty lips around it, you feel drool drip out of your mouth to slide down your chin and land on your chest. You look down to see him watching you like a hawk, eyes glued to the spit sliding between your breasts. You let his thumb fall out of your mouth so you can dirty talk some more.

"Make me yours, put a fuckin baby in me, Suki." You throw yourself forward so you can plant your hands beside his head and bare down on his cock even more. Obscene, wet, smacking sounds fill the room as your sopping cunt slams down on his length repeatedly.

"I'll make you mine, slut, I'll fuckin fill you up." He huffs out.

"I'll put a baby in that perfect body, ruin you for everyone else- shit, baby- I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna fuckin cum." As he finishes his sentence his voice climbs a few octaves, starting at his usual manly tenor to end at a pitiful wine.

"You feel so good Daddy, let me feel you cum, I wanna make you feel good." You run a hand down his chest, letting your nails leave angry red marks in their wake. He throws his head back to cry out as his hips buck against you, the sight sends you hurtling into another earth shattering orgasm. It's so fucking perfect, as soon as he starts cumming your walls start pulsing around him. You both still against each other as you feel him start to fill you up with ropes of his hot cum. You collapse onto his chest as you both work your hips against each other, moaning incoherent praises about how good you both did. You ride out your orgasms in tandem, his beautiful, broken moans fill your ears as hot tears cascade down your pink cheeks.

You both pant as you come back down, nerves firing and bodies twitching. You bring your face up to glance down at him. His ruby eyes flutter open to meet yours, his hands move gingerly up your body. His fingertips glide over the bruises already forming on the skin he abused with his teeth. He moves to press a thankful kiss against your battered neck. You run your fingers through his hair and let out a content hum at his affectionate gesture.

He continues to place kisses up your neck, across your jaw, then he grabs your chin so he can tilt your face to the left to kiss where the impact of his knuckles have welted the skin. He does the same with the other cheek so he can kiss where he slapped you on that side.

"Let's get you cleaned up." He mumbles against your flushed face. He timidly slips his softening cock out of your well used hole, you feel warm liquid leak out and spread down your thighs, but at this point it's impossible to know who it's from. You roll off of him and huff when your back hits the bed. He slides off and stands with his hand out for you, you take it and wince when you stand. Your legs threaten to give out, trembling beneath you as you attempt to walk.

"Come here you big baby." He rolls his eyes and scoops you up bridal style. You sigh and lean your head against his shoulder as he hauls you off to the bathroom. He gently sets you in the large claw foot bathtub, you shiver as the frozen porcelain bites your hot skin.

"Here, move forward." He says simply, you obey thoughtlessly. He slides in behind you after flipping the faucet on. He gathers your hair in his hands then moves it over your shoulder so it can fall across your chest when you lean back against him. He brings a hand up to smooth the hair sticking to your sweaty forehead back, placing a sweet kiss to your temple while he does so.

Your eyes flutter closed and you bask in the warmth of his aftercare. Katsuki might be a rockstar in bed, but he really shines in the quiet moments after. He always cares for you like you're something precious that he doesn't want to break. The thought sends a pang of longing through your chest, knowing the security he offers after his rough sex isn't the result of romance.

"Thank you, sir," You sigh out as the water rises over your shaking legs. He smiles against your head, amused at you still addressing him with the name he demands you use in the bedroom, knowing you're still stuck in your obedient headspace.

"Use my name, baby." He says, coaxing you back out of it.

"Thank you, Suki." He hums at the nickname as he reaches for your hand, bringing the back of it to his soft lips.

Soon the water has covered both of your bodies completely, you reach your foot out to turn the faucet off. The heat of the water feels devine against your exhausted muscles, your legs stop trembling and you relax against Katsuki.

"Can we talk?" He asks, head dropping to kiss along the shoulder not covered by your hair.

"What about?" You ask, taking his hand in yours to observe the scars littering his broad palm.

"I meant it." He says, voice deep and intentional.

"Meant what?" You inquire, bringing his hand up to kiss it like he had yours.

"Be mine." He says it like it's obvious, like you should've known better.

Your heart soars at the proposition, but you have to make sure he isn't just talking out of his ass because he's high on endorphins.

"Suki, we agreed that-"

"I know what we fuckin' agreed on." He says gruffly, there's the harsh Bakugo you know.

"I changed my mind." He says, taking a deep breath after changing his tone back to a more caring one.

"Plus I'm doing you a favor." He says, voice laced with mischief.

"How so?" You ask.

"This way you won't have bad sex with lame extras." He states, making you both laugh a little.

"Yeah, good point." You giggle. You turn so you can straddle him, water splashing around you as you do so.

His hands find their home on your waist and his eyes study your face as you settle on his lap.

"You can't have all your ladies though." You sigh, giving a fake pout as you bring your hands up to cradle his face.

"There haven't been any others since this started." His honesty nearly knocks the wind out of you.

"What?" You ask, absolutely dumbfounded.

"Nobody but you." He confirms, leaning up to kiss across your collar bones. He presses his lips into your skin again and again, you pull his face away to look down at him seriously.

"I don't like seeing you with anyone else, I don't want anyone else to have you." He looks up at you through his lashes, an unusual look in his eyes.

"Ok." You breathe out, causing his eyebrows to raise, an almost excited look on his face.

"I'm yours, Suki." You smile down at him. A rare grin spreads across his handsome face and his lips are on yours instantly, kissing you passionately as his arms snake around to grab at your hips.

"Say it again." He mumbles against your lips, still smiling like a fool.

"I'm all yours, Dynamight." You say with a wry smile.

He chuckles, low and dark, before scooping you up by grabbing you under your thighs. You giggle as he pulls you out of the water, he moves quickly back into the bedroom then throws you on the bed. You laugh as you bounce against the mattress.

"What are you doing? We're gonna get the sheets wet!" You yell.

"We already did that, sweetheart." He laughs as he crawls over you.

"Plus, you're my woman now-" He grabs your waist and starts kissing down your stomach, your body reacts to him immediately, head thrown back as his kisses inch lower.

"I've fucked you, now I've gotta make love to you." He says against your hip bone, punctuating his sentence with a sweet bite.

The promise of something so passionate with Bakugo has you reeling. You're more than ready for whatever he has planned for tonight.

"Take me, sparky." You tease, letting him spread your legs.

"Oh baby, I'll do more than that." And just like that, you're seeing stars again.

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recklessmark · 3 years

Text

prove it

—enemies to lovers trope

Mark Lee x Reader

Words: 2180

Warnings: unprotected sex (be safe guys), face-cumming, oral sex, a lot of degradation, dirty talk, overstimulation, fingering, mirror sex, spanking, breeding kink, idk but it’s just mark fucking you dumb.

You tied your hair up in a high ponytail. Washing your face with some water, you look at yourself in the mirror. The thoughts of him have been wandering in your mind for eternities and you hate it.

Walking into the training room, you were expecting to be alone, to exercise and clear your mind of all distractions of Mark Lee. You clearly did not expect to see the man in question himself, your enemy to be in the room. His fists mercilessly pounding into the punching bag, he’s shirtless, skin damp and glowing. You definitely should try harder to hate Mark but he always makes thing so damn hard. Without making a noise, you swallow hard, turning around to leave when suddenly a hand slamming the door closed, a body pinning itself against your backside. You froze at your place, biting your inner cheeks when a pair of lips lands on your ear.

“You really don’t think that we can get along for at least 10 minutes?”, Mark asks, his breath hot against your skin.

“Are you repulsed by me that much?”, his hand is suddenly at your hip, “Or is it the opposite?”

“Don’t flatter yourself too much, Lee.”, you sway his hand away, turning around to face the man.

His eyes intensely stare down at you making you feel weak. You hate the fact that every time you’re facing Mark, you can’t control the way your heart beats like a piston or your hands all get sweaty. You hate the fact that Mark makes you feel, you were so heartless and this is nothing good.

“Why should you call that “flatter” when I’m the only one can make you bow down?”, he smirks cockily.

Now you’re getting somewhere. Did you say that you also hate the fact that Mark can probably see through you, you hate to admit that everything he said was right.

“Prove it.”, you surely don’t want to back off.

You raise your hands up in fists, ready for a hand to hand fight when Mark catches both of your wrists into one of his palm.

“Oh no princess, I have other ways to beat your ass. Fighting is none of that.”

You see something glinting in his eyes that you can not tell, ambition, stubbornness or is it lust? His grip on your hands is tight, forbids you to move away. Mark is now like a predator targeting its prey when he takes a step forward making you step backward until your back is against the wall mirror of the room. His hand finally lets your wrists free, but instead grabbing your neck causing you look up slightly. You squeeze your eyes shut when there’s something crashes onto your lips. Mark’s crazily kissing you, his tongue slips into your mouth, licking all over. You feel the urge to pull away but the tight grip on your neck reminds you of your vulnerable situation now. His mouth leaves your, letting you breath but not without latching his lips onto your neck. Mark licks a stripe up on your sensitive skin causing you to moan slightly, he makes sure that he leaves some marks on your exposed neck. You feel Mark then comes down to your cleavage since you’re wearing a crop top for practicing. He moves back a little bit to take your top off, unclasping your bra, throwing the clothing somewhere. You vulnerably give up when Mark attaches his mouth onto your nipple, making you cry out.

“Mark-“

“That’s it, I’ll fuck you so good that the only thing you have in your mind is my name.”, he says while moving between your nipples.

You’re feeling your legs weak when Mark push you to kneel on the floor but not before taking every fabric left on you and him off. Your face burns up at the sight of Mark’s semi-hard cock which is directing right into your face. He pumps it with his hand making you swallow hard, wanting his length to fill up you mouth. His free hand makes contact with your face, tilts your chin up slightly to look at him.

“You want it huh? You want my cock to thrust deep down your throat so that I can cum all over your face and you’re gonna lick up everything, don’t you?”

You feel embarrassed but you can’t deny you don’t like it. However you don’t want Mark to know that you’re into this so you nod instead, hoping that you can cover up your desire. But you may forgot that Mark probably can see through you, and he’s not happy with it.

He slaps your face lightly with his palm, “Words, slut.”

“Yes I want it Mark, just fuck my mouth-“

Your sentence is halfway cut when Mark suddenly thrusts his cock into your mouth, stuffing it full not even with half of his length.

“Fuck- I fucking know you’re a slut. Your mouth feels so good god-“

Mark babbling while holding your head in place, his tip hits the back of your throat every time he thrusts in. He leans down making his cock even deeper, his hand finds your wetting cunt, landing a harsh slap on it. Your moans send vibrating onto his cock, you swallow your cheek, attempting to make Mark cum.

“Fucking cockslut,” he slaps onto your clit, “Sucking my cock like it’s your last meal, gonna cum all over your face, and you’re not wasting a single drop huh?”

You dart your tongue around his sensitive tip, tasting the leaking pre-cum.

“Fuck fuck fuck- god I’m gonna cum-“

Mark quickly pulls out, there’s a string of salvia between your mouth and his tip. His hand pumping his cock as you look up as his face, stick your tongue out. The sight of you looking at him sends him over the edge as sprints of cum landing onto your face, some onto your waiting tongue and some in your opened mouth.

“Jesus you’re so hot.”

Mark finally calm down, he smirks as the sight of your face painted with his cum. His thumb collect some on your cheek, shoving it into your mouth as you suck on his fingers.

“Yes, lick it all, don’t waste a single drop.”

He pushes you to lay your back on the floor, spreading your legs wide, exposing your wetness. His thumb leave your mouth, full of your spit, circling you clit. Your body squirms at the pleasure, wanting something more.

“Ask for what you want, darling.”, his fingers collect your essence, teasing you.

“Anything Mark, I’ll take whatever you give me.”

You’re now too gone to talk properly. Mark chuckles, finally shoving two of his fingers into your core.

“I barely do anything and you’re fucked up. Who knows you’re such a slut Y/N?”

Suddenly something pops up in Mark’s mind when he sees your palm pressing against the mirror. He retracts his fingers from you causing you to whine but he quickly makes you sit up, turning you around so that you’re facing the mirror. His fingers brush your slit again but he doesn’t go inside, you squirm inside his embrace.

“Open your eyes.”

You follow his demand, opening your eyes, welcomed with the sight of you become undone under Mark’s touch. You’re a mess, completely naked, your cheeks are bright red and his hand playing with your pussy, your arousal dripping. You immediately close your eyes, embarrassed with the image of you but you feel his fingers leave your core.

“If you want my fingers inside you, watch.”

Mark whispers in your ears, his teeth nibbling your earlobe.

Trying to ease the embarrassment away, you open your eyes, watching as his fingers make their way to your pussy again. He slips two fingers in you, pumping them in and out.

“That’s right, baby. Look at the way your tight pussy all wet, sucking my fingers in.”, Mark groans, biting your shoulder.

Your hand grips his thigh as he starts moving his fingers faster, trying to keep your eyes opened.

“M-Mark, I wa-wanna cum...”, you stutter, looking into his eyes through the mirror. You know if you didn’t do it he would stop.

“Do you deserve to cum? I don’t think so but I’ll do a favor since you sucked my dick so good.”

His tongue licks the corner of your mouth, you feel his fingers going even deeper, curling against your sweet spot. His eyes didn’t leave the reflection of you in the mirror for a second, examining every expression you make. You want to close your legs as your orgasm hit you but the firm grip Mark made on your thigh prevents you from it. You eventually give up, squeezing your eyes, your head burried in the crook of his neck, you scream his name like a mantra as he fingers you through your orgasm.

Mark retracts his finger from you, manhandles you into a doggy position. His hand pulls your ponytail, yanking your head back.

“What did I say about closing your eyes?”, his other hand slaps your ass harshly, “Should I punish you?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

Another slap lands on your ass makes you bite your lips.

“No talk back. A slut like you can only do what I say, understood?”, he pulls your hair again, your back almost breaks from arching too much.

“Yes sir.”, you mutter out.

“You want my cock huh? You want my big cock in your tight dirty pussy, don’t you?”

Mark teases you with the head of his cock, sliding it against your heat, making you clench around nothing.

“Yes please, I want it so bad, I want your big hard cock in my wet pussy, fuck me.”, you shamelessly beg.

Mark chuckles, “Since you asked so nicely.”

Your mouth opens wide when Mark pushes his cock inside you deliciously. Mark has been wanting to fuck you, every time you give him that hateful look or every time you compete. That stubbornness, that ruthlessness, he wants to claim you his. And now, you’re sticking your ass up, begging him to fuck you making him regret, regret that he didn’t fuck you sooner.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Look at yourself, such a slut. All that toughness is such a perfect cover, for the fact that you’re a cockslut, my cockslut, always desperate for my big cock, isn’t it?”

Mark leans forward to whisper into your ear, holding your chin so that you’re staring at your reflection in the mirror.

“I’ll fuck you so good, do you want everyone to see you like this? Letting me fuck you however I want. Stretching out your little tight pussy. I bet everyone can fuck you, right?”

The pleasure is too much for you to notice what Mark is saying, you’re just babbling nonsense.

“Fucking answer me. Or did I fuck you dumb? Who fucks you so good like this? A slut like you will let anyone fuck you, don’t you?”

You hear Mark growls into your ear, you clench your walls around his cock.

“You Mark, you fuck me dumb. Only you can fuck me, I’m yours, all yours.”

Satisfied with your answer, Mark pounding into your faster, his cock hits your sensitive spot.

“Fuck Mark-, too much...”, you stare in the mirror as Mark thrusting into you.

His thumb comes find your clit, rubbing circular figure on it, increasing the pleasure on you. His lips leave wet kisses on your neck and your shoulders.

“I-I’m gonna cum, fuck, M-Mark!”

You cry out, feeling a knot tightens in your belly.

“Yes! Fucking scream my name so that everyone can hear you. Look at yourself when you cum, look at me thrusting my cock into your cunt. Fucking cum baby, cum for me, cum all over my cock!”

All that words of Mark send you into oblivion as you reach your climax. Mark didn’t even slow down, his thrusts become sloppy as you feel the overstimulation.

“I can’t- Mark! Too fast- god...”

“I’m gonna cum in your dirty pussy. Filling you up with my cum, putting my baby inside you. You’re gonna bring my child, yeah, I’m gonna make you fucking pregnant.”

His breath hot on your skin, the sound of your skin slapping echoing around the room, giving you another orgasm.

“God I wan-wanna cum Mark! I’m gonna- gonna cum-“, you stutter.

“Yeah, cum baby, cum again for me. Fuck yeah- god I’m cumming-“

You cry out as the second orgasm hits you, blowing your mind away. With a few more thrusts, Mark reaches his climax, filling his seed inside you.

“You’re not wasting a drop of my cum, you will be pregnant with my child, yeah?”

Mark pulls out as he calm down from his orgasm. His fingers trace on your slit, pushing his leaking cum inside you again, making you whine.

“I win, princess.”, Mark kisses you sweetly.

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mimi-cee-hq · 3 years

Text

Wildfires - Atsumu x f!reader

Summary: You're burned from last year's rumours, now fearing any hint of smoke. Yet you can't help, but fall for the childhood friend who's a balm to your wounds.

Genres, tropes, etc: angst with a satisfying and happy ending, angst to fluff, hurt/ comfort, exs to lovers (but not the usual kind), secret dating, drama and romance, but it's still somehow cute because that's just how I write lol

Warnings: false rumours about cheating and an illicit relationship, so it still technically mentions those things.

Words: 1.9k

Author's Notes: Hi Lia (@chimielie)! I'm your ☀️ anon. 🥰 You suggested exs to lovers and hurt/comfort for this prompt and it still technically is those things, but it's probably not what you expected.

If anyone is new to my blog and doesn't want to read angst, here's a cute fluff Atsumu x reader instead. :)

This fic is for the Heatwave Fic Exchange (@heatwave2021). Thank you for hosting this!

~*~*~

"I hadn't realized you two were still together."

Not even the overworked fan's whirring can drown out the strained silence that follows.

"We're not."

The air is dry and sweat forms on your brow. With the sun beating down, it's the perfect combination for a wildfire.

Atsumu's chin sits on his fist as he avoids your gaze. Lowering your eyes, you stare at the wooden table.

"Did he still care?" you ask yourself.

~*~*~

Plaid skirts sway as two students peek into their new classroom, attempting to be discreet. You hear their whispers from a distance, waiting in front of your own classroom.

"Look! We get Kinjou-sensei this year!" one exclaims.

"Are you serious?" the other asks after letting out a gasp. "I don't know if that's a good thing or not. I might end up staring at his face all day."

"Maybe it'll help you pay attention," her friend snickers.

You clench your jaw as heat rises in your body. They're able to indulge in frivolous remarks, ignorant of how you're left scarred from one fleeting gesture, a tiny piece of kindling that ignited into uncontrollable flames.

Cool hands cover your ears from behind you. Your jaw relaxes and the tension dissipates from your shoulders. You turn around to see Atsumu wearing a scowl on his lips. Sighing as you cross your arms, you ask, "Atsumu, what are you doing?"

"Well if only there was a way to make 'em shut up," he replies with a sharp tone.

You lean away from him and swat his hands back. "You're too close," you tell him.

"Alright!" he says, holding his hands up in surrender. "I'll go!"

As he walks away, he crosses his thumb and index finger behind his back, forming a little heart. You smirk at his hidden gesture to you.

"I love you too, Atsumu," you silently tell him as a smile graces your lips. However, it vanishes like the mist in the sun when yet another person calls after him, someone he doesn't know.

You skirt around the other students, avoiding their path, and rush to your desk. There are too many dry leaves around; a single spark can burst everything into flames.

Why does everyone have to know Atsumu?

~*~*~

"I wish you could've been my partner for the project," you say.

Atsumu pours a glass of water and places it on the table in front of you. "You ended up with that new girl, right?" he mentions and you reply with a nod. "She should be safe to work with."

You're startled once again when you hear the chimes from the front door. A rattan room divider obstructs your view of it, but you hunch down anyway as you finally pick up your spoon.

Atsumu sits across from you, sharing something about his team. His eyes dim when he realizes you haven't been listening.

"This isn't working," he tells you. "I thought this restaurant would be better because people can't see us from here." He runs his fingers in his hair, a sign he's frustrated.

"I– I forgot people can still hear us," you say in a low voice.

Atsumu sighs. "Let's just watch a movie at my house," he says. "Osamu already knows anyway."

"You know we can't," you protest. "Not when Hana and Haku drop by so often. They're going to realize we're together."

"But how are we supposed to have any fun when you're so scared?"

"I–" You lower your gaze, eyes unfocused towards your untouched bowl of rice. "Sorry, Atsumu."

"It's not your fault," he reminds you yet again. This exchange has become all too familiar. "Maybe we should finally tell Hana and Haku what happened to you."

"And have them find out the guy in the rumours is their beloved brother?" You cross your arms over your chest and rub your hand on your sleeve. "I still want to be comfortable around them, Atsumu. Ignorance is bliss right?"

His mouth twists before a groan escapes from it. He slouches in his seat and stares at the food in front of you, which remains the way the waitress left it.

"Let's take the train to Tokyo next time," he mutters. "Nobody'll know us there."

Your eyes grow before looking up at Atsumu. "What?" you slowly enunciate just above a whisper. "Don't you know how expensive that is?"

He presses his lips together before sharing his next suggestion. "I know where 'Samu's secret stash of money is…"

You narrow your eyes at him. "No, we're not stealing from him to go on a date, Atsumu."

"Alright," he says, lowering his eyes and dropping his shoulders.

Seeing his expression, you offer another idea. "How about Osaka?" It's only one city away.

Atsumu's eyes light up, excited at the chance of finally getting to enjoy some time with you. Although your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes, you hope leaving the vicinity of last year's wildfires would be enough, for Atsumu's sake and yours.

~*~*~

Your heart beats faster and your throat becomes dry. You weren't getting enough air.

"You're okay," you tell yourself. "She's not talking about you."

"Seriously! That happened at my old school," your project partner snickers as she recounts her story to you. "They even got the kiss on camera too! I felt so bad for her, but it's her own fault for cheating on him."

You begin to feel dizzy, catching a whiff of smoke from another victim's fire. Her words add fuel to a fire that cannot be stopped. Wildfires burn and burn, and are never satisfied until they run out of kindling.

"Oh! I've been meaning to ask. Are you dating Atsumu? The two of you seem really close!"

Your throat struggles to take control, attempting to keep your stomach down; it doesn't want to burn either.

They'll say you're cheating on Kinjou-sensei.

The tongue is a powerful weapon, causing destruction by those who are both untrained and ignorant as well as the truly malicious.

Your knees buckle as you pant for air, your grip weak on the knob. You need to get out.

Atsumu's figure is before you and you relax as he catches you. You never would have imagined that this guy would be your fleeting oasis.

~*~*~

"Let's break up," you tell Atsumu.

You both knew this was coming, yet a bucket of icy water chilled to the bone regardless of whether or not it was expected. Speaking those words aloud shocked you back into reality.

You hesitated dating each other in the first place, but you couldn't help but caress his strong hands when he admitted his feelings for you. Growing up together in your group of five, he was by your side from snotty noses to acne breakouts.

You didn't expect to fall for the hot-head of your bunch when rumours of you dating Kinjou-sensei spread. Atsumu attempted to extinguish every flame he spotted, witnessing your anguish each time you got burned.

"Maybe we can still do this," you say, contradicting your previous words.

"And what? Have ya pass out again every time someone asks about us?" Atsumu protests. He lowers his eyes as he clutches your hand. "Do ya know how worried I was about ya?"

Your heart flutters for a moment before you remind yourself that you can't keep him, the boy who has been by your side for so long.

"Aghhhhh! This is so stupid!!! Why are we suffering because of this made up crap?! 'Kinjou-sensei' had put a bandaid on me a thousand times more than he did t' ya! But nobody gives a crap about that!"

"I'm sorry Atsumu."

"Why the heck are ya sorry?!" he says, raising his voice.

"I– If I was just strong enough... If I could withstand their stupid words"–your lip trembles–"maybe I wouldn't have to choose between you and having some peace."

There's another silence between the two of you. Your fingers are loosely intertwined together, barely holding the fragile string between the two of you, as if it were a wick that would combust and disappear in a split second.

"Maybe we should just run away," Atsumu mumbles aloud.

"What?"

"Ya know, transfer schools. Or even drop out if we need ta."

"Atsumu! You can't! We can't! You have volleyball! And I... this is the only school that gave me a scholarship."

"Agh! Why is this so frustrating?!"

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing, ya idiot! Ya did nothing wrong!" He presses and rubs his forehead with the heel of his palm. "I just… I wish I could do more for ya." His arm drops at his side. "I wish I didn't feel so useless."

Your tears drip down your face. Could they be counted any more? If only you didn't fear getting caught dating Atsumu, terrified that last year's fires would morph into a raging beast. But another wildfire would not only destroy you but also the man you loved. If only your sores healed by now, you could have shown off your boyfriend, disregarding any of the flames.

If only you were fireproof.

But you weren't and now you're forced to loosen your grip on Atsumu, the balm to your wounds, and let him fall out of your hands.

~*~*~

"I hadn't realized you two were still together."

Not even the overworked fan's whirring can drown out the strained silence that follows.

"We're not."

It was three years since you talked to Atsumu, four since rumours first raged through the school. The two of you went through cycles of getting back together and breaking up again every time you learned that fear was still crippling you. Cutting off contact was the less painful option.

Years later, you're at a friend's cottage and Atsumu comes along without knowing you're here as well. Now that high school has come and gone, the smoke has dissipated and the fires have finished their course. You can finally breathe.

But does Atsumu still want you?

To anyone else, Atsumu is bored out of his mind, resting his chin on his fist. Nobody sees his thumb and finger forming a tiny heart.

Your heart flutters and you blink back tears. You attempt to hold back your growing grin, but you have no reason to hide it anymore.

You wrap your arms around him, almost causing him to topple off of his chair, Atsumu letting out a yelp. "What the heck are ya doing?"

You can finally release your feelings for him, openly and freely. The dam opens and waters rush to engulf him before you settle into his embrace.

"I love you too Atsumu," you tell him without a care in the world.

Osamu tells you he changed when you cut off contact. He desired to be a man, not wanting to feel so powerless, and poured himself into things he could do. It paid off.

"Did ya want to go somewhere together? I could even take ya all the way t' Rome if ya want."

The two of you hold each others' hands as the ocean's edge cools your feet. You lean against his shoulder, cherishing the moment that at one point seemed like an inaccessible dream.

You give him a peck on the cheek and smile. "Tokyo seems like a nice place for a date for now."

~*~*~

I hope you enjoyed this fic. :) (And I hope you liked it Lia!!) I guess I can be poetic if I try. lol. I had a whole commentary written out for this fic, but I decided against posting it here and making my author's notes as long as the fic itself. 😂

If you enjoyed this fic, I don't really have any similar pieces of writing at the moment. The only one that's similar is the hurt/comfort Kunimi WIP I've put off writing for so long because I didn't think I could pull off this type of fic. (And also because I think only one person will read it.) The theme in that one is pity/pride because pitiful is Kunimi's most hated word.

Anyway, if you want to see my usual style of writing, I have a cute tooth-rotting fluff Atsumu x reader one-shot. I currently also have an ongoing fake dating chaptered Suna fic, which is probably my best planned fic with the hints and foreshadowing and a nice mix of humour, fluff and shoujo-type angst. :)

I also have a Google form for my taglist if anyone is interested.

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu angst #atsumu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #miya atsumu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #atsumu fanfic #miya atsumu fanfiction #haikyuu fanfiction #hihqnetwork #animehorizons #angelwalker’s virtues #atsumu scenarios

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samstree · 3 years

Note

For the reverse trope ask: the soft character comforting the tough character after a trauma

Piece Him Back Together

Part of the reverse trope series.

When Geralt gets kidnapped, it's up to Jaskier to rescue him. Some truths about a witcher's worst weakness come to light.

(geraskier, 2.1k, hurt/comfort, geralt whump, mutual pining, competent jaskier, love confession, mild blood)

read on AO3

"Shit, shit, shit..."

Jaskier lets out a string of curses all the while balancing the weight of two fully grown men with stumbling footwork. He desperately tries to keep Geralt up with a hand on the small of his back but fails to stop the injured witcher from drooping with each step, until, at last, both of them wind up in a heap of limbs by the road.

Geralt lets out a pained grunt and Jaskier scrambles with apologies.

“Fuck, sorry.” The bard shifts Geralt’s bulk with all he can muster and finally settles him on a patch of soft moss under the tree. The witcher hisses as his back hits the bark rather heavily. “Shit, I’m so sorr—”

“You already said,” Geralt interrupts him but there’s no anger in his tone.

“Still. I am.”

Jaskier retrieves a handkerchief from his pocket and begins to dab at the mess of blood at Geralt’s temple, wincing when he finally sees how bad the blow is. Blood oozes from the gash, slower than a moment before. The fabric is soaked through and the skin there is still tender.

It’s all witchers’ weakness.

The temple. A blow to the head.

It messes up all their senses and coordination, leaving them in the most vulnerable state. If Jaskier had reached him any later, this might have done Geralt in.

Jaskier lets out a distressed sound at the thought.

“Stop fussing. We need to go.” The witcher, against all odds, remains level-headed.

“No, it’s all right. I knocked out all the guards and servants, along with the duke and his mage.” Jaskier tilts Geralt’s head for a better angle to press the handkerchief down on the wound. “I may have given the two of them a little more than the recommended dose. The lady at the apothecary warned me about the risk of choking with much sleeping potion, urgh, like I give an ounce of fuck if they die a gruesome death or not. It’d be a favor to the town.”

The venom surprises even Jaskier himself, and Geralt lets out a meaningful hum.

“Rest assured, my dear. No one will be looking for us today.”

Up close, Jaskier can feel Geralt scrutinize him intently as if to burn a hole into his face. He meets the amber gaze, the dark pupils still a little blown wide from the shock, but there’s also something akin to relief flowing in those beautiful eyes.

He revels in the silence, observing Geralt in return for further signs of hurt, but finds none.

The witcher relents first, the tiniest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “So you drugged an entire castle?”

“Didn’t think I had it in me, huh?” Jaskier teases. “The White Wolf, saved by a humble bard and forever impressed by his wit.”

“Hmm.”

“Well, don’t beat yourself up, oh mighty witcher. I’m sure you only needed the rescue because those villains took advantage of your only weakness.” The bard adds his usual dramatic flair into the last two words.

Geralt blinks. Something shifts in his expression, his breathing picking up and his eyes darting everywhere. If the bard didn’t know better, he’d say the witcher is flustered, which makes it all the more confusing.

“Mocking me, are you?” Geralt drops his gaze and tries to shy away, but the bard holds him in place with the other hand. Under Jaskier’s palm, the frame of the witcher’s ear is heating up.

“How am I mocking you? Geralt, even you must admit witchers aren’t all-powerful beings.” Jaskier frowns. “They messed up your head. I know all your senses get muddled when you’re like this. Seriously, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“What are you talking about?” the witcher snaps his gaze back to Jaskier, a puzzled crease deep between his brows, which only makes the bard scoff with amusement.

“The head wound, of course. How did they get you? An ambush and a blow to the head, I’m assuming.” Jaskier explains. “How else did you get yourself into a dungeon and dimeritium cuffs? What, are you telling me you walk into their trap voluntarily?”

He rolls his eyes at the offhanded joke but the silence from the witcher leaves the mood heavier. Somehow, it doesn’t feel like a denial of what he just said. Geralt is staring at him with an inexplicable look on his face, and these looks are hard to come by these days. Jaskier prides himself in being the best on the continent at reading his witcher, and he has no inclination to break the streak.

“What happened then? Talk to me, Geralt.”

Jaskier removes the handkerchief a little. The gash has stopped bleeding, so he ties it around Geralt’s head carefully to keep the wound shielded, at least until they can wash it properly. His hands stay with Geralt afterwards, waiting for him to open up.

“I—” Geralt purses his lips before continuing, golden eyes meeting the bard in earnest. “They didn’t ambush me, Jask. I walked into that castle unarmed by choice.”

“What?” Jaskier’s jaw drops.

“It’s because—” the witcher scowls. “Because I thought…that they had you.”

It’s like a lightning strike, where their skin connects tingling all the way from the tips of Jaskier’s fingers to a warm pool of fuzziness in his stomach. The air is suddenly too hot so Jaskier decides to put more space between them.

“Oh.”

Geralt chases him ever so slightly before settling back with resignation, his eyes still bare and vulnerable, as if he just revealed the darkest secret when it is only the sweetest thing in a horrible, horrible way.

“A whisper of you being held hostage and suddenly I couldn’t think. Couldn’t remember to check the truth. Couldn’t waste another second.” Geralt hovers a hand near the bard’s face before retreating to his side. “You were right that they got me because of my one weakness, Jaskier. Just not the one you assumed.”

The pounding in Jaskier’s chest is jumping out of his throat. He’s sure he will die within the next minute if he doesn’t speak to ease this ache in his heart.

“Oh.”

He ends up saying dumbly.

“It was too late when I noticed the absence of you. Your voice, your heartbeat, your scent. Nothing. You weren’t in that castle or the cells. All I could hear was silence and all I could smell was blood.” Geralt draws a shuddering breath. “I hoped, when they kept me in the dark, that they were lying about ever having you. That you were nowhere near that damn place instead of—”

The witcher swallows, unable to finish the sentence.

“Instead of,” Jaskier adds for him, “they’d already killed me.”

The tension hangs between them. The bard sits back on the heels of his feet and finds himself at a loss for words for the very first time in his life.

Geralt might be the only person who can force Jaskier through so many firsts in his life. His first time writing a hit song, first time smashing into someone’s face with a lute, first time saving a witcher’s life, and perhaps, first time murdering two evil overlords obsessed with collecting witchers for experiments.

Hmm, it’s not like Jaskier regrets any of these.

Geralt reaches out again, tentative and patient like he’s approaching a spooked horse. This time, Jaskier takes pity and meets him halfway, his thumb rubbing small circles at the sword callouses that he adores so much.

“Say something,” Geralt pleads.

Jaskier swallows a lump in his throat and sniffles to ease the congestion in his nose, his vision blurring in desperation.

“It’s the most words you’ve said in one sitting, Geralt. You’ll have to allow me a moment to figure out what you are saying and, most importantly, not saying.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “It’s you, you know? There’s always something you are holding back and that is often the crux of it. I thought I got good at reading between the lines, but this is…overwhelming.”

With the enhanced healing kicking in, Geralt is looking much better by the minute. The blood dries and crusts over and his eyes almost shining in the daylight, or is it just the emotions within them? Jaskier can’t tell.

“Maybe I can help you. With the hidden words.” Geralt squeezes Jaskier’s fingers reassuringly. He tilts his head in the most endearing way. It happens to be that particular head tilt that Jaskier treasures with his life, the one that manages to always take his breath away.

“I love you, Jask.”

The warm pool of fuzziness in Jaskier’s stomach turns into a bottomless pit, and he’s falling.

And soaring.

“I love you.” Geralt smiles sadly. “In the dark of that cell, it became…ever so clear and so loud that I couldn’t deny it anymore. I love you, in spite of myself. Gods, I’ve loved you for so long.”

Geralt picks up Jaskier’s hand and places the barest touch of a kiss there, his lips chapped but oh so gentle. Jaskier lets out a soft gasp and the tears roll down uncontrollably. The next thing he knows, he’s buried deep in Geralt’s embrace. The sobs choke in his lungs like a dam has been broken.

“I—” Jaskier is amazed to find that their roles have reversed. The witcher has expressed everything but the bard becomes mute. So he takes up Geralt’s role gladly and replies with actions.

Jaskier’s lips are pressed everywhere he can reach: the soft, warm skin of Geralt’s neck, the sharp of his jaw, his cheek, the tip of his nose. He disregards the grime and dirt and kisses Geralt’s uninjured temple, the single most fragile part of a witcher’s body—barring their heart, so it seems. He tucks away a strand of white hair and kisses Geralt’s temple one more time, tasting the salty tang of tears.

When he pulls back, Geralt’s smile is blinding.

He hears Jaskier, even though—

“I still don’t know what to say,” Jaskier croaks, sniffling hard.

The bard rests his hands at the nape of Geralt’s neck and loses himself in the sunlit golden honey, his favorite color in the world and the most beautiful dream that’s ever come true.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Geralt wipes away the wetness on Jaskier’s face with the pad of his thumb. “Master Jaskier, poet, minstrel, professor… Stumped for words and forever impressed by a witcher’s love confession.”

He mimics Jaskier’s phrasing and the bard can’t help but chuckle despite the tears and snout, his hand swatting at Geralt’s shoulder. Jaskier knows he must look so absurd, laughing and crying all at once, but it’s the last thing in the world that matters.

Geralt loves him, and—

“You got hurt because of me.”

The remorse licks up, along with the urge to protect and to care. The sight of Geralt limp and bloody, bound by the wrists in a dark cell is something Jaskier never wants to relive again.

“I don’t care, Jask.”

“I care.”

“Then make it better.”

So he does. Geralt never wavers as Jaskier captures his lips and pours everything he cannot voice into the kiss, drawing a contented moan out of the witcher.

“Does it still hurt?” the bard whispers between one breath and the next.

“A little.”

Jaskier resumes his work and cards deft fingers through silver hair, careful not to nudge the handkerchief. His nails ghost over Geralt’s scalp and scratches gently until a purring sound rumbles deep in the witcher’s chest. The bard giggles proudly.

“Now?”

“Keep going.”

Geralt traps Jaskier between his strong arms devours him with passion, the heat of his body solid and calming.

Jaskier has never thought of himself as a protector, except at this moment with his witcher arching into his every touch and producing those heavenly sounds. The world is too bent on hurting Geralt, too eager to take and take and take from him.

A bard is not a fighter. Jaskier cannot stop monsters from tearing through armors or crossbows fired with ill intent.

But a bard is a lover. What Jaskier can do is heal, is piece Geralt back together with gentle words in the dark and soft lips on the thin skin at his temple.

“How about now?”

They are panting in tandem, the gold of Geralt’s eyes dreamy and out of this world.

“Still dizzy.”

“That’s from all the kissing, you oaf.”

But Geralt begs wordlessly with those wide, puppy-like eyes so openly, and Jaskier’s already non-existent resolve breaks into a million pieces. He kisses Geralt until the witcher melts into a puddle of purring mess, sun-warmed and pliant.

And he kisses Geralt more.

Again and again.

---

Thanks for the prompt. I kind of just rolled with the concept. The twist looks a bit obvious from the beginning, but feel free to tell me what you think. <3

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @dapandapod @artisanbaguette @birdsflyhome

Please tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #reverse trope #trope subversion #soft geraskier #geralt x jaskier #cw: blood #soft jaskier #hurt geralt #geralt whump #mutual pining #love confession #first kiss #italicized oh #hurt/comfort

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