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gold-dustwomxn · 3 months

Note

Hello hello!

Ellie or Abby x fiance(fem) reader

Hurt/comfort

During an argument, the reader takes her ring off

But happy ending!

Take your time and take care 🫶

Devoted

Cw: mention of antidepressants, alcohol consumption

Angst with comfort

Golden, twinkly lights from the ceiling reflect onto the chestnut wood floors, catching your eyes in mesmerization. They seem to dance and wave as you watch them. You’re two drinks in at Ellie’s work party, feeling way drunker than you usually would from such little alcohol. You had just started antidepressants a week ago, and your psychiatrist said you shouldn’t drink on them. You didn’t consider yourself a lightweight in the slightest, telling yourself you’d be fine having a couple of drinks. Ellie’s figure on the other side of the room disrupts your thoughts. She looked really fucking good in her all black suit.

You scurry your way over once you see Ellie’s conversation end with her boss. You wrap your arms around Ellie’s neck as your body sways. “Missed you babe, I love this suit on you.”

Ellie chuckles and looks at your low, glassy eyes, “Are you drunk?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah and I only had two drinks,” you hold up two fingers, “They’re really fucking strong,” you slur out.

She looks at you in worry and sighs, “C’mon, let’s get you some water.”

Ellie’s coworker Alex walks over to you guys, “Ellie! Hey, I haven’t seen you all night.”

Ellie looks at you about to speak and you wave her off, “It’s okay, I got it.”

“You sure?”

You nod, “Mhm, I’ll be right back.”

“You look really good tonight.”

Ellie squints her eyes as if it’ll help her hear better over the music, “What?”

Alex leans in to speak into Ellie’s ear, “I said, you look really good tonight!” She brushes her nail along Ellie’s sleeve.

Ellie jumps back as her brows furrow, “Uh, what the fuck are you doing? My wife is here.”

“She’s not your wife yet though.” She grabs Ellie’s jacket and leans in to kiss her, and Ellie pushes her away.

From where you’re standing at the bar, your blurry vision shows Alex whispering into Ellie’s ear while touching her arm, before leaning in to kiss her. All you see is red, your tunnel vision preventing you from noticing that Ellie rejected her advances.

Ellie’s eyes widen as she sees you swiftly walk up to them, realizing you’re about to hit Alex. She quickly grabs your arm and wraps hers around your waist, “Stop, don’t make a scene. Let’s go.” She hurriedly directs you both to the exit, not looking back at Alex, or at any of her coworkers who she hopes didn’t witness what just happened.

“What is wrong with you? You can’t act like that around the people I work with. My fucking boss was there.”

“She was about to kiss you and you were just gonna fucking let her!”

“I wasn’t gonna let her kiss me. I didn’t even know she was going to!”

“Either you’re that oblivious or you wanted it to happen.”

She scoffs, “Wow. I guess I’m oblivious then because why the fuck do you think I’d cheat on you? Especially in front of you and all of my coworkers? You really don’t trust me?”

“I don’t know, Ellie. You tell me. It was clear as day what her intentions were! She was fucking all over you.”

She groans and pinches the bridge of her nose, “If you don’t trust me, then why would you agree to marry me?”

Deep down, you know you’re being irrational. Through the years that you’ve dated Ellie, she has never given you a reason not to trust her, but in this moment, your drunk brain is telling you otherwise.

“Well, maybe we shouldn’t get married then.” You take your ring off and place it on the table, as angry tears stream down your face.

Ellie’s eyes land on the ring before slowly panning up to meet yours. Her face can only be described as pure devastation.

Your eyes widen in regret as you observe her face. “No.. no wait, I didn’t mean that.” You frantically grab the ring and put it back on your finger, spewing out apologies, while Ellie just stares at you.

You approach her slowly and go to grab her hand. She yanks it back and starts to turn around.

“No, Ellie please don’t leave. Please, I’m sorry.” You try to grab her arm and she avoids your touch, “Just.. just don’t okay? I need to be alone right now.” She grabs her jacket and storms out of the house.

“Fuck.. fuck! Why the fuck did I do that?” You bury your face in your hands as you sob.

You sit in bed, crying for what seems like hours, hugging Ellie’s pillow while your head pounds as you sober up. You’ve never had this bad of a fight with Ellie before, and the thought of her thinking that you don’t trust her makes you feel sick.

As you hear the sound of the front door open, you anxiously bounce your leg, waiting for her to walk in. Ellie walks into your shared bedroom, her eyes softening as she sees your arms wrapped around her pillow. She sits down next to you and you notice that her eyes are puffy and red. You immediately lean in to hug her, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it at all. I love you so much and I trust you, completely. Please don’t leave me.”

She pulls her head back to look at you in concern, “I love you too,” she kisses your cheek, “I won’t leave you.. but, what’s going on with you? You’ve never acted like that before when you’re drunk.”

You avoid her eyes in embarrassment. “I- I think it’s the new meds.. I usually know my limit when I’m drinking, but I got drunk so fast. Once I saw her all over you like that, I just lost it.. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

She nods in understanding, “You know I would never cheat on you though, right? I pushed her away when she tried to kiss me.”

You nod and blink back your tears, “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t. I’m sorry. I hate fighting with you.”

She wraps her arms around you and buries her face into your neck, leaving a gentle kiss, “Me too. I’m here now, we’re okay.”

She leans back to look at you and strokes the back of her knuckles over your cheek, “Maybe, it’d be a good idea for you not to drink while you’re taking those. What do you think?” She doesn’t say it in a patronizing way, but as a well meant suggestion.

You nod, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds like a good idea.”

“Alright, I won’t drink either.”

You giggle, “Ellie, I’m not an alcoholic. You don’t have to stop drinking just because I am.”

She chuckles, “I never said that. You and me,” she points to you and then herself, “are in this together baby. Through thick and thin or whatever they say.”

“It’s ‘for better or for worse’”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “Whatever, same shit. ‘Til death do us part, I do.” She smacks her lips against yours in a dramatic kiss.

You laugh into this kiss, “You better not do that shit at our wedding.”

She smiles and attacks your face with kisses before leaving a soft, lingering one on your lips, “You’ll love me anyway though.”

A/n: Sorry this is super short! I hope you like it anyway💗

P.s. it’s advised that you don’t drink on psych meds, but if you do pls drink responsibly. Had to learn that shit the hard way lmao

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie x reader #tlou ellie #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader

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love-jelly · 3 months

Text

RIGHT HERE.

sypnosis: you're soft for yuuta. more than you should be, considering that he's spoiled with your endless mounts of affection, basking him in the purity of your love.

contents: slight yandere!yuuta, cunninlingus, fingering, porn with plot (?), pet names (baby, pretty baby, etc)

word count: ~2.1k

a/n: i don't think i've ever wrote this much in my life, especially for a fic!! i lightly (barely) proofread this so if it sucks.... well, hopefully it doesn't. i listened to right here by chase atlantic for this fic because it reminds me of yan!yuuta sm so you can listen to it while reading if you want! i hope you enjoy !! minors dni. ageless / blank / minor blogs will be blocked if seen interacting!

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yuuta is never far from you, always a step ahead, always ready, always a steady presence in your life, from your teenage years to now.

how could you not be soft for him, knowing he's the only person that's ever stayed in your life? laying in bed with him, twirling the locks of hair that have started limiting his vision, an energy of tranquility enveloping the room that you both inhibit. a sudden call from your phone causes vibrations and loud rings that shake the peace that you both felt prior. you sit up tiredly to answer, sighing.

"hello?" you answer, not bothering to check who called. no one usually ever calls you at this time of day.

"are you down?" a voice you recognize emerges from the voicebox of your phone, demanding an answer to her sudden question. it's your best friend.

"down for...?" a confused tone is prominent in your voice.

"is yuuta hogging you again?" she jokes but you still see yuuta furrow his eyebrows at the comment. "read the groupchat! are you down for a girl's date today?"

"ohh, i didn't see the notifications, let me see." even before checking the messages, you know you don't really feel like going. today's your first day off in forever and you really wanted to spend it with yuuta but when you see the all uppercase texts clearly exhibiting extreme excitement from your best friends, you put your phone back to your ear. "i'll go."

your friend squeals excitedly, "okay!! text you're going in the groupchat, all the girls are finally free today to get together!! i can't wait to see you all again! see you later!" and promptly ends the call.

you turn back to yuuta, his eyebrows still furrowed. you smile softly and gently press your fingertips to his face to rid him of the wrinkles. "i'm sorry, baby, i know you wanted to spend all of today with me... i'll make it up to you, i promise."

his face relaxes but his eyes are still troubled. "it's okay... when are you leaving?"

you check the groupchat one more time, filtering through all the messages including exclaims of excitement to search for the details. "it starts at 2:30pm so i should leave at 1:30... which means i should start getting ready at 11:30 max. it's 10:00 so we still have time together."

yuuta pulls you back into bed, wrapping his arms around you and noses his way into your neck, making you giggle slightly from the ticklish feeling.

yuuta lightly bites your neck, leaving a light indent of his teeth. only slightly satisfied, he stares at it before he gets up, leaving you in the receding warmth of the bed.

frowning slightly, you call out "where are you going?"

'show her she only needs you', the devil on his shoulder whispers.

he hums. he turns backwards and picks you up gently, taking you with him. he kisses your cheek softly. "breakfast." he answers.

_____________

you softly groan into your closed fist. this was your weak point. yuuta, with his messily but cute tousled bedhead, shirtless, and cooking (especially when its your favorite breakfast). you had forgotten how badly this scene made the pit in your stomach ignite.

"hm?" his eyes flit over to you for a second before settling back onto the food in the pan in front of him, hiding a small smile that you don't catch.

you sit up quickly, adjusting your legs. "nothing, love!" your voice sounds tight and somewhat strained.

he knits his eyebrows together, "are you sure?" he glances at you, for longer this time before focusing back on the hot pan.

"yes..." you trail off, your eyes laser beamed at how he grips the pan handle and spatula. the tight grip of his hand on the pan.... then on your thigh.... then onto your waist....

shaking your head abruptly, you smile as you see yuuta plating your food. how could you think of your sweet boyfriend like this? poor yuuta, just wants to cook you breakfast... but the filthy thoughts continue to plague your mind.

his tongue flicking the fork (getting the remnants of the food left on it), a tongue you feel between your legs often.... his fingers wrapped around the fork (to feed you, of course), fingers you feel inside you often... you're in a daze, staring at him with the hungriest look yuuta has seen in your eyes in awhile. it's not his fault you've been so busy that you can't spare time for him and that you both haven't your fill of each other in awhile.

your running rampant thoughts are interrupted by the conspirator of your current fantasies himself when yuuta swipes at the side of your mouth to rid you of some crumbs and move them into your mouth.

and you can't catch yourself fast enough. your tongue darts out and collides with his finger and he pauses, frozen. in your starved haze, you grab his hand to pull him closer, sucking on the tip of his finger. now in his own mind-fogged state, he hyperfixates on your plush lips wrapped around his thumb and retracts it to replace it with him index and middle finger.

sliding his fingers into your mouth, he lightly presses down on your tongue. "you're so pretty..." he says, his eyes watching your eyes water.

taking his fingers out, he pulls you into a hard kiss. with teeth clashing and tongues dancing, he easily picks you up and carries you back to the bedroom.

in the bedroom, yuuta's rough with you. dropping you on the bed, watching you bounce on the bed for a second until he follows you, crawling on top of you. he quickly rids you of your flimsy tank and boy shorts, smiling smugly as he sees the wet spot in your panties. he kisses you your lips to your waist, sucking hickies along the way as if he's drawing a trail from his favorite place to kiss to his favorite place to make you cry out in pleasure.

when he reaches your waistline, he looks up at you. "you're so gorgeous" he whispers as he pulls apart your legs. you smile gently, it's so yuuta to compliment you in any situation.

your smile, however, is quickly contorted to a face of pleasure when you feel a light and wet pressure at your core. yuuta always knows exactly how to make you feel good, like he knows you better than he knows himself, like he crafted you himself.

his tongue makes quick work of your folds, lapping at the juice that leaks out of your pretty cunt, making you shut your eyes and cry out from the stimulation. diving into your hole and nudging your clit with his nose, you both simultaneously moan, him from your taste and you from the stimulation. your hands quickly find purchase in his hair, slightly pulling it to ground you while yuuta works on you, worships you like you deserve. through the pleasure, you find it in you to, somehow, open your eyes.

you can never get enough of this sight; yuuta's blown out pupils dizzy and drunk on your slick, slacked jaw taking in whatever your messy cunt gives him, and hair messy from your pulling and pushing. he's not usually a messy eater but with your cunt gushing out sweet elixir, what is he but a hopeless man amidst with a goddess- his goddess?

"y-yuu" you choke out, one hand pulling his hair and the other holding one of his hands tightly. "yes, love?" he kisses your clit, making you gasp at the sensation.

"need it!" you cry out right as he thumbs your clit to replace his lips.

"hm? what do you need? use your words, baby." he knows you, knows you can beg better, knows if he says the right words and pushes the right buttons, you'll crumble prettily, all for him.

the tips of your ears feel like they're burning, your cheeks like they've been set alight. "need to cum... please make me cum."

and just like that, yuuta feels like he's been set on fire, the match being your words. "well why didn't you just say so, baby?"

with that, he pushes two fingers into your weeping cunt and licks at the sweet delicacy you present to him. with the added stimulation of his long fingers that curl just right that it bumps into your g-spot, it doesn't take much for you to reach the edge.

yuuta knows your signs and tells. he knows when you open your legs a little wider, thighs start twitching, moans get a little whinier and right when he says "cum for me, pretty" you'll come undone like a lovely scroll depicting his ultimate downfall; you. and you'll go lax, all the tenseness in your body dissipated as if it was never there in the first place. your lips will open to let out the final and loudest moan, the melody of his hymn in which he worships you. your body shakes as he tongue-fucks you through your orgasm, from the intensity of it rocking your core.

when you've fully come down from your high, he kisses his way back up to your lips, following the same trail of hickies he embedded into your skin prior. once he reaches your lips, he crashes your lips together like you're his oxygen (you are). you taste yourself but you don't care as you greedily devour whatever he gives you.

"can i put it in, baby?" he begs softly as if he didn't just devour you like his life depended on it and a whine present in his voice like you would ever tell him no.

"put it in me, yuu."

he pants heavily as he slowly slides his cock into your leaking cunt. "so good- so perfect for me-"

loud rings come from your phone, startling you both.

"ignore it." yuuta whines, still slowly sliding into you.

"yuu- let me pick up- f-fuckk hold on- yuu!" you smack him lightly on his chest and he looks back at you sadly, looking like a kicked puppy. "it could be important! hold on."

you answer the phone quickly, before the phone rings loudly again, "hello?"

"where are you, girl? you're not usually late!" your friend exclaims.

you quickly rip your phone away from your ear to check the time. 3:00pm. "oh my god."

yuuta, still looking like a kicked puppy, mouths 'what?'

still in shock that you lost track of that much time, you whisper-yell "i'm late to go to the girl's date!"

yuuta starts sliding himself in more as he whispers back, "don't go... stay with me."

"hello?" a voice from your phone disrupts you two.

"oh um... i-i got wrapped up in something..." you watch yuuta as he mouths at you 'say something came up, say you can't go anymore'. you can't exactly say you want to go either, especially when he's pleading with you like this and already sunk his cock halfway into your more honest cunt.

"oh... well, are you still coming? everyone's here tonight!"

weighing your options (get an amazing orgasm, maybe two or three actually, or hang out with some of your best friend who you haven't seen in awhile), you decide.

"i'll g- ohh." yuuta, seeing you were about to leave him, shoves the rest of him into you, bottoming out and mouths 'don't leave me'. your moan goes unnoticed by your friend, thankfully.

"you're coming? eek-!!"

noticing your boyfriend's neediness and noting your own wants, you quickly respond. "ah no- um, something came up. i'm actually a little occupied right now so-"

yuuta visibly perks up at your decision and you smile softly.

"awww, okay. i hope everything's alright! come to the next get-together, alright?"

"mhm, yeah, of course. i'll be there next time." you promptly end the call after exchanging goodbyes.

"i'm glad you're staying... with me." yuuta smiles, an unfamiliar emotion you've never seen in his eyes.

"of course-" you're cut off by his abrupt thrusting and you release a whiny moan.

"shhh, let me make my pretty baby feel good." he kisses your face and threads your hands together.

he pulls you into a hug and with his face hidden to you, yuuta finally lets out the smile he's been holding in all day long. and he thinks:

'i win.'

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if you enjoyed this, please reblog and/or consider following me!

a/n: i've been having the worst (best) yandere yuuta brainrot ever, something about it feels so canon. but omg this is my first time actually writing full on smut so please give me feedback/constructive criticism!! also i'm a virgin. CAN U TELL??? LOL hopefully not. but hopefully you enjoyed!! thank you for getting this far :)

#cw yandere #yandere yuuta #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta x reader #jjk yuuta #yuuta smut #yuuta x you #yuuta x y/n #jujutsu kaisen yuuta #i love yuuta sm #yuuta the loml #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #i tried #can u tell i'm a virgin writing smut for the first time

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somber-sapphic · 4 months

Text

Cooking With A Cold

〖500 Follower Prompt: “Oh sweetheart, you’re worse than I thought” + “Sorry, I can’t stop sneezing” + 🏥〗

〖Summary: You hurt yourself while trying to cook a romantic meal for your girlfriend.〗

〖Word Count: 1.5k〗

〖Pairing: Natasha x Sick Reader〗

〖A/N: Hello! So, some of you may know there was a bit of a "situation" last week which threw me off a bit and I decide to postpone posting this. I know, it's been months, but I really needed to recompose and regroup which changed my plan. Sorry, I know this is a bit long but I hope you enjoy!〗

☾Masterlists☽ ☾500 Masterlist☽

Natasha had just gotten home from a long mission and when she had come into the kitchen you’d screeched at her to get out, not wanting to ruin the surprise. She’d left laughing and was currently sitting on the couch in preparation for what she didn't expect to be an incredibly fancy dinner. She knew that you hated to cook and assumed you’d just thrown a few frozen things in the oven and mac and cheese or something on the stove.

Instead, you had taken it upon yourself to make her favorite dinner and a dessert to go with. Over the two weeks that she had been gone, you’d been watching cooking videos and practicing in your spare time. There was a lot of spare time. You had decided to make her a medium-rare steak with baked asparagus and sauteed mushrooms. Following that there was a cheesecake in the fridge that had come out much better than you’d expected.

When planning this fancy meal that you very much didn't know how to cook, you had been so excited. You were thrilled to get to spend real time with your girlfriend and you wanted her to tell you everything about the ocean and beach and blue skies. It hadn't been a particularly dangerous mission, and you were sure that she’d be happy to tell you all of the more fun details.

So of course, your body had decided to throw something at you. Maybe it was the long nights spent awake wishing you weren't alone in your bed, maybe it was the fact that one of the Avengers (Clint) seemed intent on spending time with you even though he was clearly sick (it was probably the second one), but the cause didn't matter because you were sick. Sick sick.

You didn't have a little sniffle that you could push through with a dose of cold medicine and a few tissues, you had a full-on everything hurts, whole body feels hot and cold, stuffy and runny nose, dizziness, chest cough that won't let up kind of cold. Or maybe the flu. You weren't sure, but that didn't particularly matter to you either. For now, all that mattered was you staying upright for long enough to finish this meal.

Between breaks of sitting on the floor and about one million tissues, you’d managed to get down to the last stretches. The steak was done, and ready to be cut. The mushrooms were sitting on the stove covered by a pot lid to keep them warm. All that was left was the asparagus sitting in the oven and the timer for those had just gone off.

You pulled yourself to your feet and stumbled slightly, the world shifting quickly around you as your center of gravity changed. It was all you could do not to grab the hot stovetop and stumble into the counter instead, hoping that you hadn't made too much noise. You may have felt awful, but you didn't need Natasha to know that.

With your brain on autopilot, you stuck your hands into the oven and grabbed the metal pan with a bare hand. You were so out of it and ready to be finished cooking dinner that you hadn't realized you had forgotten the oven mitt until you felt white-hot pain shoot through your hand.

You pulled back with a strangled gasp, catching the back of your hand on one of the oven racks as you did. Tears of pain clouded your vision momentarily and you clutched your hand to your chest, unsure what to do. The gasp led to a fit of coughing that left you doubled over and panicking. If you just kept standing there your dinner would burn, but you were pretty sure that your hand was useless. And the room was still spinning.

Now you’d have to get Natasha and she would be upset because not only had you ruined dinner, but she’d also need to take care of you. You stood there frozen, and to your utter horror, you began to cry. The frustration of it all was too much. All you’d wanted to do was make a nice hot dinner for your incredibly busy girlfriend and now you needed her help.

“Hey Nat?” You called out in a watery voice, congestion seeping into your worlds. You sniffled and brought your tightly clenched hand up to wipe your nose on your sleeve, doing your best not to disturb the burn. A tiny part of your brain was telling you that you should probably be running it under cool water or at least stick it in the fridge, but it hadn't quite caught up to the part that was shutting down the pain.

Natasha, bounced into the room, her smile lighting up her eyes falling as she saw the twisted expression on your face and the protective way you were holding your hand. You could feel your lower lip quivering and your nose might have been running again but you weren't sure, you were just humiliated. To be safe, you swiped your hand against your fist and sniffled.

“Oh dorogory, what happened?” She asked, rushing over to wrap her arms around you. You laid your head against her shoulder and let out a whimper, wishing that you didn't have to admit to your failure out loud. This was all so humiliating.

She pulled back for a moment and cupped your cheek, lips pursed, and eyebrows furrowed. She glanced back at the half-open oven, then at your hand, then back into your eyes and you watched her face go from pure terror for your safety to understanding concern.

“Show me please?” Nat murmured, not wanting to force your hand open and risk hurting you more. You started to nod, but quickly wrenched away to sneeze into your elbow. One sneeze turned into four which turned into a bout of raspy coughing which made you glad you’d managed to turn in time. You didn't want to get her sick too.

You extended your hand at the end of the fit, revealing the blistering burn across your palm.

“Oh, Y/n, I could tell you were sick, but sweetheart, you’re worse than I thought!” She exclaimed, studying your burn intensely as she flicked her eyes up to your mess of a face. You wrinkled your nose and sniffled again, blinking rapidly at her. Black dots had appeared in the corners of your vision in these last few seconds, and you were beginning to wonder how much longer you’d be able to stand up.

“Shit, okay. Let's get you sitting.” You didn't have to say a word, Natasha was right there wrapping her arm around your waist and leading you to the living room. She even managed to turn the oven off as she practically carried you out and set you down on the sofa.

You leaned against the arm of the couch and rested your head on the cushion, another low rumbling cough echoing through your chest. It hurt to breathe, and you could hear a slight wheeze that might be more audible to those with less clogged ears.

“Okay. This hand really doesn't look great baby and I don't like the sound of your breathing. You’re going to hate this, but there’s an Urgent Care a few minutes away and I think we need to go. They might be able to get you something for the pain and something to open up those lungs, okay?” She didn't bother to sugarcoat (much) and her tone made it clear that she wasn't asking. Whether you wanted to or not, you had earned yourself a trip to Urgent Care.

Instead of answering you sneezed again, barely able to direct the sneezes to your lap rather than in her direction. You knew it was gross, but you couldn't seem to make your limbs cooperate the way you wanted them to. Lifting a pinky felt like lifting a thousand tons.

“M’sorry. I can’t stop sneezing.” You mumbled, hoping those words were enough to convey just how sorry you were, not just for the sneezing but for everything. Natasha kissed the top of your head and pressed a tissue to your nose, guiding your uninjured hand to hold it there.

“No apologies my love, just sit tight. I’ll get your shoes and your favorite blanket then we’ll head out, okay?” She soothed, running your fingers through your hair as she talked.

Her voice was the sound of summer rain on a warm night, slow rolling waves on a white sand beach, and birds chirping in a lush green forest. It was every comforting thing anyone could think of plus ten more. She was all that. She never failed to make you feel safe, loved, accepted, and, most importantly, worthy of feeling all of those good things.

You nodded wearily and let yourself melt against the couch as she moved around you, turning off lights and gathering whatever she thought that you would need. You were dreading whatever might happen at Urgent Care, but if she was there you knew that it would be okay. She’d make sure that it was all okay. And when you felt better, you’d make her that damn dinner.

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goldenhourwriter · 10 months

Text

•✮🕷️𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐤𝐢𝐝🕷️✮•

part one (you are here) • part two •

⋆pairing: miguel o’hara x wife!reader

⋆warning(s): i guess just fighting and some cursing. and threatening to bite someone lol. also i got translations from spanish dict, if i did something wrong, please correct me. i tried to use the right definitions/context to use those definitions in! also pregnancy.

⋆a/n: this was so fun to write! requests are open, and i am new to this blog, so hang on while i get this all figured out. requests are open, and this will be a mini series i am continuing!!

It’s not usually this quiet at the Spider Society.

It’s nice.

I walk around, humming softly to myself as I munch on a banana, a craving I usually get. I let my hand rest on my slightly swollen belly, my suit especially made to let it stretch and give the baby some room.

Yeah, ever heard of a pregnant Spider-Woman?

It happened a couple of months ago, as married couples tend to let happen. It’s twins, actually. One boy and one girl, but, my husband doesn’t know yet. Doesn’t want to know. I called the doctor anyways, and even though he threw a hissy fit that could rival a toddler, he relented and said it was fine.

And, it was kind of nice being alone. A lot of the spider-people tend to do things for me, think I’m incapable of doing things now because I’m pregnant. Even the ridiculous Spider-Man T-Rex gave me a ride through the halls. I snort at the thought, gaining some weird looks.

Obviously, I didn’t refuse. Who would pass up a ride on a freaking dinosaur?

My few 30 minutes of bliss, however, was interrupted by the beeping on my watch. I tap on it and smile when I see Lyla. She gives a wave.

“Hey, big wifey,” she teases, pushing up her pink, heart-shaped glasses. I roll my eyes. Everyone knows I hate that name. It doesn’t make me feel fat, it just makes me very aware of the two babies living inside of me, and how very uncomfortable life can really get.

“Hey, algorithm girl, what’s up?” I shoot back with sarcasm. I am met with satisfaction as she gives me a dead-pan look.

“Haha, very funny, love that,” she says sarcastically. “Your husband is struggling with an anomaly. Earth-65, some kind of Renaissance bird-man.”

I giggle at the thought. I can imagine his annoyance. “Gotcha, and did he actually call for back up?” I ask, but i already know the answer. I take another bite of my banana, shifting my weight onto my right leg. I can never stand still for too long, luckily, being a super hero can keep me moving. Keeps the babies satisfied.

She snorts at me, like i was making some hilarious, un-heard of joke. I relent, sighing and preparing my bracelet to go to the universe she said he was in.

“Alright, alright. How long do you think until he actually asks?”

“I’d give you about two minutes. He’s getting really thrown around with this one. And there’s another spider person, trying to ask him too many questions.”

My eyes perk back up to the hologram when she mentions this. “I haven’t heard of a recruit from Earth-65, is she new?” I ponder out loud. I cock my head to the side, adjusting my mask. Well, half mask. It really only covers my eyes. Lyla nods. “Yup, she’s a new one. She’s a nice kid, too.”

I smile.

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

Lyla logs off and I sigh, patting my baby bump. “Alright, you guys,” I whisper to my belly. I stick out my hand and the portal opens, and I jump in. I shout with joy, flying through the portal, and as I practically fall to the other end, my hair whips around.

I fall on the other end, and I groan as my hair blocks my vision. I hear grunting, crushing, wings flapping, and snappy remarks being thrown about, but I can’t see anything. I flip my hair over my head, shaking it out.

“I need a hair tie on these things,” I mumble to myself.

I look over, and I see a feminine-looking spider-hero staring at me. I give her a small wave. Her eyes are wide, I can tell. I examine her suit, which seems like it holds up pretty well. It has hood, which is new to me, and she’s wearing…are those ballet flats? I smile

“Hey, babes! You look cute!” I compliment to the get up.

She waves back again, and she looks down at my stomach. “Are you….?” She trails off. I look down, and put a hand on my hip. “Yep, I am. It’s twins, but don’t tell my husband the sexes yet. He wants to wait.” She nods, but seems to remember that she doesn’t know just who my husband is. She takes a step towards me.

“Who are you married to? Are there even more people like us?” I nod.

“My husband’s right….” I don’t even flinch as he gets thrown into the wall right in front of me, and I smile. “There.”

He groans as he slips to get up, his mask eyes squinting at me. I squint my eyes right back.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m carrying your children,” I scold. He gestured to the giant creature that hurls towards us. “I need help here!” He shouts at me. Lyla puts up on my shoulder, and we both cross our arms. He sighs, looking down.

“Please, Y/N? Sabes que no me gusta mendigar,(You know I don’t enjoy begging),“ He pleads quietly.

Vulture screeches at us. “Love truly makes me sick,” he narrates out loud, and he reaches his talons out for me. I stuck out my wrists and web up one wing, so he goes sideways, just barely missing me. He breaks free, but I web up behind him again.

“Your attitude makes me sick!” I shout at him. “You seem like the Beethoven of your area, jerky, cold, and not the greatest people-person!” I struggle to speak as I try to web him up again, but it doesn’t work. He barrels towards me, and grabs me in his talons. I hear Miguel growl and leap off the ground, landing on his back. He tugs on the man’s feathers, making him spin around to try and find him. I take the opportunity to web myself away from his grasp, kicking him away as I do so.

“Is this guy made of paper?” I ask, rubbing my hands together as I take a moment to actually register what just happened. Miguel grunts, and yells as he speaks to me from the bottom of the building. “Honey, I love your voice, but I really need you to use your actions right now!”

I spot a few witnesses trapped behind some rubble, so I shoot off the side of the wall to swoop them up. They scream, clutching onto me, and I drop them off right by a big police officer. He gawks at me, and I give him salute as Miguel webs me up again. I twist up, getting wrapped in his webbing, and I break free using a kick, hitting Vulture square in the jaw with my foot. He grunts in pain, squeezing his eyes shut, and Miguel uses this moment to try and guide him down, so he won’t escape.

I land right next to, what’s her name? I’ll learn it soon enough. I land right next to the teen as she stares at me. I smirk at her.

“What, never seen two married spiders?”

She swallows. “Can you adopt me?”

“What?”

“What? Nothing! Nothing!”

Miguel groans, and I can tell he’s growing tired. “¡Por Dios! ¿Puedes dejar de hablar por un momento? (Oh, my God. Can you stop talking for a moment?)” He calls out to me. I let out a heavy sigh, putting my hands on my knees. “I’m sorry, but your babies are making it hard to move right now!” I shout at him. Gwen webs away from me, and Miguel lands right next to me again. “Last time I checked, it took two people to make those two babies,” he grumbles. We take a moment and watch as Gwen tries to take down Vulture by herself.

I look at Miguel, and raise my eyebrows. “Did she call ya ‘Dark Garfield?’” I ask. He groans, and I can tell hair eyes shut as his head falls forward. “Yes.”

I giggle. “I like her. Maybe we can recruit-“ “No. No, we can’t, and you know why.” My somewhat playful attitude disappears with a frown, and I nod in compliance. He grabs my waist and he swings us up, and then we fall onto the Vulture back again. I scream through gritted teeth as I try to hold him down on the ground, but he flings me off, a sudden, new found strength in him.

“What the hell?” I curse. “Not cool, man!”

“This ends now,” he says to me, and he springs upward. I curse under my breath again, but it seems Miguel is on top of it. Literally.

“If he gets out, this whole universe will collapse!” He shouts, mainly at Gwen. I know the risks involved, having to save almost every universe from them every day. I shoot my wrist out, but I groan. I hit my web shooters, but nothing comes out. “Fuck-Miguel! I’m out!” I try to jump from floor to floor, but I quickly get nauseous while doing that. I look down at my stomach again, poking it. “So web slinging is fine but jumping is what doesn’t please you guys?” I ask the unborn babies. I get a mere kick in return. “I know that was the girl. That was way too sassy,” I grumble to myself.

Spider-Girl lands right beside me, and she looks at my husband and he battles Vulture. They both crash right through the glass ceiling, and we shield ourselves from the shards that could possibly cut us. She looks at me.

“What is he gonna do?” She asks. Miguel takes the Vulture’s face in his hands, and opens his mouth, wide, baring his fangs and giving a loud roar. “Oh snap,” whispers under his breath. But, he’s cut short, when a helicopter shines a light on him. He yells at the helicopter, his mask coming up again to cover his face.

“I’m a good guy! I’m here to help!” He desperately explains. My spider senses then go off, and I scream up to Miguel.

“Miguel! Watch-!“

I’m too late. Vulture throws two weapons at the helicopter, and then the helicopter starts to spin, going down, and fast.

“Shit.” All three of us say in unison.

I look to the kid, and she’s already looking at me. I nod towards her, and she returns the gesture, and we both know what that means. She launches off the floor, and she begins to web a net. I take a deep breath. “Alright, babies, don’t make me throw up,” I say sternly to my unborn babies.

I leap off the ground, and I fly through the middle of the helicopter, grabbing the two pilots and landing on the fourth floor of the building. I grunt as I roll on the ground with them, and we writhe in pain.

I turn to the both of them, checking on them, and I run to the edge, well, the mess that made the edge. I look down, and the teenage girl is flying through the air, webbing up a net. And just as the helicopter is about to crash, she flies right underneath it, just barely getting nipped by the chopper.

She lands, breathing heavily.

“Wow,” I whisper. Miguel hops a bit in front of me, landing on some rubble.

“I was gonna do that,” he says quietly to himself. I can tell he’s thinking her, thinking about her hard. Miguel and I share a glance at her, and she nods. She turns and hops down from the huge rock, and goes back towards the wall, out of sight. I turn and see the two pilots staring at me. I smile.

“Yeah, I know, there’s lots of freaky spider people, that was my reaction too. Cmon, let’s get you two a medic.” I reach down and offer my hand to them, which they take, one at a time. I help them to the big opening in the building where the door used to be, and I hand them over to some officers.

I sigh, turning around to find my husband surveying the area.

I walk up to him, putting a hand on his back, feeling his tense and rigid muscles, alert and still in attack mode. He seems to relax a little at my touch, and he lets his mask down. I grin, amusement

“Your hair is all messed up.” “Can you and I have one good moment after a battle where you don’t make fun of my hair?” “Absolutely not.”

He lets out a low growl, rolling his eyes. I walk a little in front of him, and stare at the place where the teen escaped to, hearing some grunting from there. No doubt she’s recovering on her own. My hand comes to rest on my stomach, my thumb running over the bump. I turn back to Miguel, my mouth open to speak, but he beats me to it.

“I said no,” he rejects me as he leans down to pick up some broken machinery. He scoffs at some poor excuse for art. “I’m starting to think Vulture did everyone a favor by destroying this place, this art sucks-“

“Miguel O'Hara, no cambies de tema,” I say sternly. He lets out a sigh. Spanish isn’t even my main language, so when I speak it, he knows I’m not messing around. He spins around, holding a figurine of a balloon dog in his hand. I would find it comedic, a big guy like him holding a small thing like that, but not when he’s trying to avoid my questions.

“You know we can use her. I’ve never seen anything like her, and she even beat you to one of your moves. You have to agree with me on this!” I gesture out in front of me, as if the conversation is laid out in front of us. Miguel sighs, walking up to me with his hands on his hips. His expression is hard, but his eyes give it away. He’s considering it, it helps if I’ve spent about a couple years with him now.

He brings his hand to my waist and another to my hair, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead.

“Te amo demasiado a veces,” he mumbles into my hair.

Okay, that gives me absolutely nothing.

His hand travel down to my stomach, and his two very large hands splay over my tummy. His lips quirk up a bit as one of them kicks against my skin. “Did you do okay today?” He asks quietly, referring to my very pregnant self. I nod, but it doesn’t seem to reassure him.

Vulture struggles next to us, but we just give him an annoyed look. “I’m done with your attitude!” Miguel tells him, pointing at him. He sighs, turning back to me, grabbing my waist and pulling me impossibly closer, so we’re basically sharing the same breathe. My stomach flutters. Even after marrying him, he really can have the same affect on me from when I was a new recruit.

“You know you can always opt out whenever, I can call for other backup,” he says quietly. He’s trying to spare my feelings, not letting others hear so I won’t get embarrassed. I’m never embarrassed, it’s life, I got pregnant, but I appreciate the sentiment. I lean up and kiss his nose.

“I know, thank you, but really, I’m fine.” I stick a hand up as he begins to protest. “At 7 months, I will take maternity leave. I’ll rest and just be the desk person, okay?” I ask. He debates it for a moment, and lets out a grunt and nods. We stay in our somewhat embrace for a bit, when we hear a gun shot. My head whips to where Spider-Woman went and hid, and I look at Miguel.

His mask forms again, and he kicks Vulture, telling him to be still as he picks him up. Miguel picks me up with his other arm and swings to the opening as we fall in.

“Dad, please!” She begs the cop standing across from her. Miguel shoots a containment pod at him, and she runs towards him. I grab her by the shoulders, trying to use my softest voice.

“Hey, hey, kid. Hey, it’s okay, we’re here, we got you,” I say quietly to her. She’s crying as she clutches onto my arm, staring at her dad. Miguel opens a portal, and I give the kid one more pat and walk over to him.

“What are we gonna do?” I whisper to him. He looks at me. “What do you mean?”

I roll my eyes.

“We can’t just leave her here!” I get a bit louder, but he shushes me, putting a finger up. My jaw drops.

“You did not just shush me,” I growl.

“Oh, I think I did.”

“Oh, I know you didn’t-!”

Miguel and I bicker back and forth, and at some point, Vulture voluntarily hops into the portal, all tied up, not wishing to stick around. I stick my finger up as I try to argue with him, my hand coming to my hip, and he towers over me, but that never took away my edge.

Then, some sniffling gets us to shut up.

The kid looks at us, her eyes watery and wide. She looks like what she is…a teenager who’s lost and alone. She opens her mouth to speak. “I-I don’t know what to do.”

I look slowly at Miguel, and he lets his head hang forward.

“Yeah, well….”

I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Join the club.”

🕷️ 💍

#miguel x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman 2099 #spider man #spider man into the spider verse #across the spider verse spoilers #miles morales #gwen stacy

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kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months

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🤠 🫶 :

Oh my god….

And Kortac’s enemies don’t understand where The Terror™ went, what could possibly have taken down a monster like that…König’s been even more menacing and violent and awful for several months now, taking every mission possible like he’s determined to destroy and kill everything he can, and there’s rumors he’s started literally ripping his opponents in half on the battlefield, and now he’s just...gone? So oh god, is there something worse out there??? Who is this who got to THAT behemoth of all people?? The rumors! The suspense! The horror!

Quick camera pan to reader, just singing to herself as she bakes some goodies to take to the sweet giant Austrian soldier (lmao she’s too forgiving, maybe she chalked up the “cunt licking” incident to a fluke, she’ll just have to be even MORE careful about where she lets him touch, he seems to get too excited). She just wants to do something nice for him, the poor man has been holed up in his company’s sick bay with something (turns out having your brain, heart, and cock explode are not good for your health, but “Blue balled into oblivion” is not something you can actually get diagnosed with, so it’s like…blood pressure issues or something).

König really should be more mindful of his health, tsk tsk.

Oh god this just gets better and better, she's worse than all his enemies combined, and she's baking for our poor broken soldier?! This is too cute 😭💞 (oh and 'tease mother'?? I want this to be my new middle name lol!)

Sweet innocent reader also heard König got into a weightlifting accident. On top of all the exploded body parts, dude sprained his back really bad trying to do a deadlift PR with all the 55 lbs plates he could stack on the bar.

Unfortunately the metal gave up before König, it broke in half in the middle of his lift, and rumours say the whole stunt was actually a cry for help, a suicide attempt, even… But no one will ever know because this man is not what you could exactly call a genius 🫡 So maybe it truly was an accident?

And of course sweet reader bakes him some yummy delicacies to cheer him up!

But oh uh. König almost cowers in his bed when he sees her. He goes completely still as sweet reader approaches him in her cutest outfit ever, smiling like an angel and with a box full of muffins in her hands.

She floats next to his bed like the most innocent butterfly ever, opens the lid so that the cozy scent of baked goodies fills the entire room. Then she picks the biggest, most plump chocolate chip muffin from that box and folds his mask over his nose to give him a taste.

Her movements are those of a ballet dancer as she brings the glorious treat to his lips… but it's her breasts his gaze falls to as she leans forward and gives him an abundant view of the two globes of pure sin, pressed together under the neckline far too wide for her usual wear.

Does this woman even know what she is doing to him...?

Is she fucking deliberately teasing him?

His mouth opens just for the sake of that mouthwatering view, and she takes it as a cue of him wanting her to stuff his mouth full of muffin.

"There we go," she says approvingly as he takes a bite while staring at her breasts, hovering there not even an arms length away. "I made them extra sweet for you…"

The ample view of her soft tits right there in front of him while his mouth is full of melting chocolate is truly a new plane of hell. Were she to turn around to look, she would see the tallest, most vicious tent forming there beside her as his cock juts up under the sheet in all it's glory.

The muffin is still warm, and she licks the extra grease from her fingers when she's done feeding him. He imagines she's licking his cum off of those fingers instead, and almost groans from the dull pain the mere vision sends to his crotch.

"Don't worry. I know you'll be up in no time, King," she chimes and gives him an exceptionally flirty smile. Whatever new torture methods are being used on him now, he hopes to all the gods that the sweet girl won't look behind her. He will just be shamed and scolded for being hard again.

It's absurd and kind of sad how much he has changed since he met her... He feels equal to the mighty Prometheus, bound to an invisible rock and being tortured night after night after night. It almost brings tears to his eyes.

"Oh. My sweet hero… Are you in pain?" She caresses his face through the mask with genuine pity and worry. A teary hiccup is trying to push up his throat, but he forces it down.

Plump breasts and overly sweet muffins and an innocent woman calling him 'King' and 'hero'? Fussing about his health, thinking it's his back that's giving him pain… A tiny little tear almost, almost escapes the corner of his eye as he gives her a tiny, miserable nod.

"Poor thing. You know, I've been thinking…" she bites her lip, takes a deep breath too, sending those breasts swell inside her shirt and giving his cock another demanding pull.

"I really like you," she continues. "And I've finally decided. I want you to be my first."

Was zur Hölle…

His eyes go wide, but otherwise, he's still. The girl dares to give him a peaceful smile while his mind goes slowly blank from the voiceless, internal scream.

What the fuck has he done to deserve this?

She's finally ready, and he has broken his back so profoundly that there will be no moving for weeks. No exercise, no sudden movements, certainly no pounding her sweet, wet virgin pussy to his heart's content.

"We just need to wait until you get better. Doctor's orders!" she chirps as she softly boops his nose.

#answered #yandere könig #könig x virgin reader #lol #torture torture torture #poor boi #lack of movement is not good for him #he can't even kill people #should we at least give him a handjob? 🥺

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natjennie · 5 months

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i like the idea of pat being super physically affectionate like even in the tiniest little ways because obviously he worked with kids for a decade, so his instinct is always a hand on your shoulder or a high five or a hug or a ruffle of your hair. so like sometimes alison will say something funny and he'll go to clap her on the back and make himself nauseous. she gets a cramp and grabs onto the railing of the stairs and he automatically tries to put a hand on her arm to steady her. mike is cooking and about to touch a hot pan and pat instinctively tries to push his hand out of the way and he doubles over through the stove.

and then with the ghosts like it took a loooong time for some of them to get comfortable with it because most of them are really repressed and come from time periods where casual affection like that is just unheard of. every time someone gets walked through pat is there to rub their back. when cap is on patrol and pat is walking with him looking at the birds, he puts a hand on his shoulder to guide him out of the way before he steps on some gardening equipment. sometimes he catches himself licking his thumb and rubbing some soot off of mary's face without even meaning to. julian hurts his finger straining to type and pat instantly pretends to offer a bandage and kisses it better. he'll do that dad thing where he just falls asleep on the couch and robin will curl up next to him. when he wakes up and robin's still asleep he pets his head and furs as robin snores. he offers to fix fanny's hair when they've had a particularly rowdy day despite the fact that it will fix itself in 5 minutes. he hugs kitty good morning every day. do you see my vision.

#pat is a cuddly dad used to working with children #there is no way he is not physically affectionate 100% of the time #bbc ghosts #pat butcher

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leviathanspain · 10 months

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breathless

carmy berzatto x reader

synopsis: it’s opening night and emotions are at an all time high

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the sweat had muddled your vision, and you were close to a breakdown. carmy was nowhere to found, and you were counting down with the clock.

sydney had been giving out orders and you followed diligently, but you were distracted. he was your biggest weakness. whenever he entered a room, he would consume your thoughts completely, and even when he was not even there, he was all you could think about.

“where’s carm?” you asked, watching richie pass by you in his suit. he had taken to wearing suits now, and you respected him for it, even in the blazing heat of the kitchen.

richie walked over to the fridge and pointed, “he’s in timeout.” he knocked on the door and you could hear the muffled response of carmen, who was stuck in the fridge.

“fuck..” you muttered, the guilt of the past argument washed over you. carmy had yelled at you, and it was different this time, you had yelled back, and made it worse. you turned to watch your steak. you could hear the fat burning off as it cooked, all the seasonings sending the beautiful aroma to your nose. you had finally found your focus-

“what about claire?” richie asked fak, who had come into the kitchen, also wearing a suit. he had broken your focus, talking about the girl that carmen had been spending a lot of time with. he glanced over at you and turned his back, richie following. they continued to talk for a minute until they broke off, and both went out to the front.

you cursed, and looked over at sydney, “syd- did carm call the fridge guy?” this was the worst time to even ask, orders were coming out like crazy and you were still cooking your steak-

sydney looked at you with concern, “no. he’s going to be okay, chef.” you were like sisters, she could see your emotions on your face better than anyone. “i need that steak for table twenty one, chef. now.” she redirected you back to your work, and you swallowed thickly, nodding as you went back to your station.

though that didn’t seem to last long. you hadn’t noticed tina by the fridge door, didn’t even bother to notice that she had been talking for a few minutes to carmy. tina looked at you, waving her hand, “come here,” she whispered, “he’s asking for you.” she said as you neared. you stepped back, shaking your head, “no, tina, i-“ you couldn’t finish your protest as claire burst through the kitchen doors.

she looked at you, disdain just at the sight of you, she stalked over to the fridge door, leaning her ear on it just as tina did.

you completely shut down. staring at her do what you should be doing- it broke you. maybe the emotional turmoil wasn’t just because of your complicated relationship with carmy, maybe it was the fact that you, you opened a restaurant and that you were-

you ran back to your steak. it was burnt, all the fat and grease had been cooked out of the pan, the steak was practically smoking, only the burnt smell lingered. “fuck!” you yelled, grabbing the pan with the steak, you threw it into the nearest garbage. you looked over at sydney, eyes welling up with tears, “i’m sorry.” the tears fell immediately as you spoke, your voice quivered and so did your hands as you ripped off your apron.

“y/n!” sydney called after you but you didn’t even look back. you just kept walking until you hit the back door exit.

carmy felt like he was going crazy. he was crazy, he had come to realize that now. he was stupid, for not calling the fridge guy, otherwise he wouldn’t have been stuck in there.

he had been telling tina, telling her how he should’ve never let his attention split off from the restaurant, but it did. and he professed that unknowingly to claire, not knowing she was there to hear how much he regretted ever being with her.

it wasn’t so much as just the restaurant he wanted to focus on, it was you. claire had broken up with him, and yet all he could think about was you. he had begged tina to get you, but he had heard your rejection, and even heard you cursing before the sounds of pots and pans being thrown.

he had called out claire’s name, but it didn’t feel right.

you had been sitting outside contemplating. you had been in this spot before, the limbo of quitting before actually deciding to walk off. it’s happened a handful of times, and usually it wouldn’t need any convincing, but this felt like it did.

you had also found josh, the newly hired chef who had disappeared on tina, and now, “you’re fired.” you hadn’t hesitated to tell him, watching as his hands wrapped around the crack pipe. he had questioned your authority and you scoffed, “i’ve given five years of my life to this place. don’t tell ask me on what authority.”

marcus had come out to join you, although by the looks of it, not actually.

“are you okay?” marcus looked at you, surprised to find you sitting on an old milk crate. you shrugged, bring one of carmen’s cigarettes to your lips, “is he out yet?” you asked, and marcus shook his head, “fridge guy probably won’t get here till close. he’s stuck there.” he pulled out another milk crate and sat down next to it. you gave him a smile, offering a cigarette, “no thanks.” he shook his head, “but i thought you didn’t smoke?”

you nodded, “i don’t. i just miss him a little.” you looked at the cigarette, and laughed, you really did miss him, even if he was ten feet away locked in a little refrigerator, you were too hurt to talk to him.

marcus nodded, “this ain’t any of my business, but you and chef really need to stop being so mean to each other.” you whipped your head to marcus and faked a gasp, “us? mean?!” you laughed, knowing it was all too true, “we’re just people, still learning how to be people.” you inhaled some of the cigarette again, and marcus pursed his lips, “if it helps, he broke up with her.”

the silence filled the ache. tears started flowing and you couldn’t stop them. you felt a little hysterical, joy thrummed through you after marcus said that, but you wondered if it would all go back to normal.

carmy had been sitting in his regret for a while now. he could hear the bustling of everyone still working, but there was no one talking to him-

“carmy?” your voice sounded like an angel. it was soft, full of longing, yet there was sadness in it. he could hear it, hear that twinge.

“y/n? y/n, oh my god,” he grabbed his face, inhaling deeply, “y/n..” his chest felt tight and carmy inhaled trying to get more air.

you could hear him struggling to breathe. the fridge guy had appeared and it prompted you to go with him. you had asked just for five minutes to say something to carmen before they could start rescuing him. but it was going wrong.

“carmen!” you pounded on the door hoping to get some response but there was none.

“get this shit open, now!” you yelled at the fridge guy and sydney came to your side, “what’s wrong? what happened? is he okay?” she looked towards the door and saw the sparks as the fridge guy started using his tools to get the door open.

you shrugged, “this is all my fault- he’s having a panic attack and i-“ you were sobbing now, face buried in sydney’s shoulder, “i did this. he’s struggling because of me-“

sydney pulled you back, you looked eyes with her and she shook her head, “he’s struggling because he self sabotages everything. he did this to himself-“ she looked at the fridge, “he’s carmy.”

he’s carmy. you repeated to yourself, and turned to see the fridge guy getting the door cracked open.

and there he was.

his back was to one of the shelves, leaning into his knees, he was breathing hard and heavy.

“carmen?” you walked into the fridge, warily as you did so, you knelt down to his level, “carm?” you repeated his name until he looked up at you, “i’m sorry.” his hand motioned sorry on his chest and you closed your eyes, hugging him tightly without saying anything.

the success of opening night was unmatched. all of the staff was beaming with pride and excitement, this was only the beginning, and months of working at it had finally paid off.

you had left carmy talking with sugar and went with sydney, who was helping clean up. “hey.” you grabbed a trash bag and started tk dump a lot of stuff into it, “i fired josh, by the way. he was smoking crack. said it helped him.” you said the words in disbelief and all sydney could do was laugh, “oh god.” you matched her laughter, “i know! he even asked me if i should be firing him, like he wasn’t smoking crack?” sydney laughed harder now, “good riddance.”

there was a quiet beat, before you apologized, “i should’ve been focused on my job and not my personal life.” you looked down at the ground, “it’s my fault and im sorry, chef.” she had accepted your apology, and gave you a little hug, “it’s okay. it’s hard when your personal is your job.” she glanced at carmy, who was making his way towards you.

you parted from her and met carm halfway. he stopped and sighed, “i don’t know what to say.” he seemed calm, as if whatever storm was raging in his head had finally stopped.

“just tell me you’re done with her.” you leaned into him, wrapping your hands around his waist, he held you by yours. “i’m done with her.” he spoke, “i promise.”

another beat of silence, as you thought. the argument from earlier seemed long forgotten but you couldn’t forget it. “i’m sorry about..” you trailed off, “earlier. about earlier. i shouldn’t have been so stubborn.”

carmy shook his head, “it was my fault anyway. but i’m sorry for not thinking that this,” he grabbed you, “was even possible.”

you shrugged, “at least you got it eventually.” he nodded, laughing as he pecked you with another kiss.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy smut #carmy the bear #carmy angst #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x you #the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto

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coalswriting · 9 months

Text

you missed my heart - natalie scatorccio

summary – natalie almost kills the love of her life in a moment of fear (approx. 2.4k words)

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

it was a lazy november day when natalie scatorccio confessed her love to you.

you sat in the cafeteria with her during lunch and she was visibly shaken up; an argument with her father, probably. she looked so tired, and you wished you could help her.

“you should go to the guidance counsellor about your parents, nat”, you had offered her, trying to exude as much hope as you could. but, natalie shook her head. she looked at you with her big sad hazel eyes. the eyebags that hid under them were heavy and practically screamed want - a want for happiness, a want for a restful sleep.

“it’s not that easy, (y/n)”, is all she said, voice barely a meek whisper.

“you need to try, nat. i’m sure they can do something,” she shook her head as you talked, but you kept suggesting, “get you away from them, call the police, anything.”

“i can’t because if i leave, my dad will kill me, and if he doesn’t kill me, he’ll kill my mom.”

her voice was firm, and you could hear annoyance welling up through her throat.

“then what can i do for you?”

“nothing,” she sighed, simply yet firmly. “i just can’t deal with this right now, i can’t deal with you right now.”

her eyebrows were pressed together, an annoyed knot between them. you felt offended, almost, but you also felt irritated towards your friend for being upset at you.

“i want to protect you”, you murmured after some time, and it seemed like something flicked in natalie.

“you can’t protect me, i can’t even protect me!”, she growled in annoyance, “ugh, just fuck off!”

and, then natalie scatorccio stormed off.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

you didn’t see her for the remainder of the school day. with every passing period, the knot in your stomach grew tighter and bigger and you were shaking by the time you came to soccer practice. you didn’t see her anywhere in the changing room, maybe she was already on the field warming up?

tying the laces of your cleats too tight, you wearily stood up off the bench and walked towards the exit of the locker room. your limbs felt heavy as they swung haphazardly by your side. lottie gave you a concerned look; one that told you she cared for you without expressing it. you smiled weakly at her, undertones of anxiety prominent on your face.

as the team lined up for their pre-practice announcements, jackie began to walk past everybody, taking count of who was around. then, she stopped in front of you, arms held behind her back in confidence. “(l/n), where’s scatorccio?”

you looked into her eyes with your own weary orbs and for a moment, her hardened exterior softened. “i… don’t know.”

the field went silent for a moment as thoughts whirred in jackie’s head, and before she could speak, somebody else did.

“she’s probably sucking a dick or doing drugs in a ditch!”, a haughty voice taunted a few spaces away from you. your head turned in slow motion as you met the eyes of the brawny girl. then, your vision went red.

“the fuck did you say?!”, you growled, storming over to her and grabbing a fistful of her jersey. she looked ready to recoil, but jackie put a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back.

“steady, (y/n)! and you,” she pointed at the girl, “have some respect for your teammates!”

your eyes panned around the team noticing everybody’s hesitant silence and the girl smirked at you, watching you from her power high.

“fuck”, you seethed under your voice, “this. fuck all of you. get over yourselves.”

and then you stormed away from the field, increasing the distance between you and your teammates. only coach ben and misty called after you.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

the trek to natalie’s house was definitely a long one. it had been about an hour now, and you felt yourself shiver in your black hoodie. you were ill prepared for this walk, but then again, you didn’t expect to find yourself going to your best friend’s house at half past six in the evening when you woke up this morning. you felt worry well up in your heart as the sun slowly hid under the distant horizon and the temperatures dropped further. yet still, you continued to strut briskly.

once you arrived in the trailer park, you beelined towards your friend’s dwelling. you felt like a stranger in this section of town, prying eyes watching you through windows and cracks in the door. an elderly woman sat in a chair, failing to light her cigarette, cursing.

you eventually arrived at the door of the beaten-up trailer, hesitating for a moment. if natalie was in here, she probably didn’t want to see you – or more like, she probably didn’t want to see you here, in the most dangerous area in her life. but still, you puffed your chest up, and with a newfound confidence fuelled by concern, you knocked. once, twice, three times.

and then, the door was ripped open. a gruff, tired man stared at you. he reeked of alcohol and his face contorted into a vile mix of annoyance and hatred. “who the fuck are you? what do you want?”, he asked demandingly, almost spitting on you.

“i’m looking for natalie, is she here?”, you worriedly asked, suddenly losing all the confidence you had previously manifested.

he sighed and groaned, “that little whore is gone. she’s not fucking welcome here anymore. leave before i shoot your brains out, now!”

and then, he slammed the door in your face. the wind from the recoil blew your hair back a little, and you felt your legs grow wobbly from fear. you turned on your foot and walked around the corner to not be seen by him again. ‘where would natalie be,’ your brain wandered as you pondered hard about the whereabouts of your friend.

suddenly, you remembered the junkyard. it wasn’t far from here and you remember smoking there with natalie, van and travis. you began to walk there, but only a few steps into your journey, it began lashing rain. you grumbled, pulling your hood over your head, tucking your hair into it so it wouldn’t get wet. for your own good, you hoped she was there, because you really didn’t want to deal with a cold.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

natalie scatorccio leaned against a rusted car, swinging the pistol she stole from her father the night prior. she was so irritated, and decided to hang around the quietest place she knew of in order to recollect herself.

you wouldn’t understand her, ever. she couldn’t get help. her father would kill her if she tried, and her mother definitely wouldn’t save her. she had previous countless injuries to prove as such, and she grimaced from remembering the fear and pain she would feel for days after, threading lightly around her parents as she slipped out to go to school every morning. she remembered the threats her father gave and the worried looks her mother concealed.

the one time her mother had tried to protect natalie from her beast of a father, she had ended up beaten severely. natalie had to beg him to stop, and for a moment, she genuinely thought her mother was dead; all she ever did now is stare blankly at the tv, sleep, and drink. it’s like she was a puppet, just bending to her husband’s will.

natalie’s heart clenched, thinking about how she had lost her mother, and now she was losing you. she looked up towards the sky, feeling droplets against her face. she couldn’t tell if she was crying but she felt a ripping feeling in her chest and a pain well up in the back of her throat. she couldn’t stop thinking about the shock that etched itself onto your face when she had yelled at you earlier. you didn’t need somebody as damaged as her, you didn’t need that trouble in your life. her father would probably kill her before she could even tell you she loved you; either that, or she’d end up as fucked up as he was.

suddenly, natalie jumped from shock as she heard a rattling noise behind her. some rubbish fell off a pile and she heard the shuffle of a body. turning swiftly, she saw a hunched over black figure approaching her, and before natalie could process her shock, she aimed the gun at them.

but then, on reflex (and maybe a reaction to trauma), natalie pressed her finger on the trigger. following the gunshot sound that rung throughout the junkyard, natalie could only hear silence, and then a pained gasp. hold on – it sounded feminine.

she rushed to the collapsing figure as they fell on their side lifelessly, like a sack of potatoes. ripping the hood off their face, she felt her blood run cold when she saw none other than you. (y/n) (l/n). you gripped your shoulder with your hand, coughing hard, as crimson began to seep through your fingers.

“shit! (y/n)! what the fuck?”, natalie gasped as she cried, holding you, “what the fuck? what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fu-“

you coughed again, snapping your friend out of her panicked spiral. natalie’s stomach filled with bile as she helped you strip the hoodie off, leaving you in your soccer jersey. you screamed in pain at the action, biting down on a sleeve. your shoulder was bloodied all the way to your chest, and natalie couldn’t identify where she had shot you.

“i-“, she wept, “i don’t know what to do. i didn’t mean to shoot you.”

your vision began to blur as natalie whimpered, and you reached a shaky hand out to touch her face.

“call misty.”

natalie’s warm tears dripped down your fingers, and the feeling revitalised you a little. her body was bent in a way that resembled a hurt animal as she bit down on her lip, body trembling. she squeezed your hand with more strength than you yourself could even muster up in that moment.

“call misty,” you repeated again, and something in natalie clicked as she awakened from her bleary mental turmoil.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

first, you heard voices, and then you opened your eyes. you were in misty’s living room, nestled up under blankets on her sofa. natalie and misty exchanged a few brief words before natalie turned to look at you. she looked exhausted and you could see smoky streaks of eyeliner on her cheeks. she noticed that you had woken up wiped her eyes, and then rushed to your side. she held your palm to her cheek, and you felt wetness.

you hissed in pain as you moved a hand up to rest it on the back of her head before talking sweetly yet tiredly, “hey gorgeous.”

you noticed misty smile in the corner of your eye before she left the room to give you two some space.

“i didn’t mean to, (y/n). you’re the last person i’d wanna hurt,” natalie whispered, voice trembling.

“i know nat, it’s okay.”

natalie hiccupped and cried, “it’s not okay though. i still hurt you, i nearly killed you. i love you. i’d never wanna hurt you like that, and i did.”

though natalie glossed over the confession, you heard every word of it; it sunk into you, and you felt your body grow heavier as heat rose to your cheeks.

“you love me?”, you repeated her words, sheepishly.

“i…”, she breathed for a moment, “i’ve loved you since the day i met you.”

“i love you too”, is all you said, looking into her eyes. they looked innocent in that moment, and you knew you could get lost in them for hours. natalie was full of complexities, and you wanted to unravel her troubles and see her smile.

“but, (y/n), i’m just too much trouble. my family is fucked up, and i’m fucked up too. i’d only hurt you”, she gasped out, not wanting to damage you further.

“i’m willing to deal with that, nat,” is all that you said, “we can get through it together.”

natalie looked surprised for a second as your words set in. her mouth was open in a small o shape, until you, with all the strength you could muster, pulled her into you.

she kissed you gently, not wanting to make your injury worse, and you were almost stiff due to the pain you felt, but you pushed through it, and pulled her even closer.

her lips tasted like salt and cigarettes, but you didn’t mind, because you loved her so much. you felt your heart swell in adoration as you pulled away, wiping her tears with a thumb.

for a moment, you studied each other’s eyes, until you heard a gasp behind you. misty covered her face. “(y/n), i know i owed you a favour, but that doesn’t mean i want to be a third wheel in my own house!”

the three of you burst into laughter and natalie helped you up. misty continued, “i stitched it up and tried to clean the cut as well as possible, but don’t do any rigorous activity for a few weeks. this means no soccer practice, got it?”, she pointed a finger against your chest, and you nodded. “also, pat dry after a shower, and constantly take painkillers, because it’s not going to heal easily.”

after thanking the yellowjackets’ equipment manager, natalie helped walk you home. she sat on your bed as you inspected the wound in your bedroom mirror. “looks gnarly, d’ya reckon i’ll have a sexy scar?”

natalie chuckled, awkwardly, hiding her face in shame a little.

“it’s fine, babe, i’m really not upset at you, i promise.” you said, suddenly holding her face in your hand, forcing her to look into your eyes.

she only smiled back at you, wearily. you both fell silent for a moment before she cleared her throat. “well, i guess i should… find somewhere to stay. goodnight, (y/n).”

but, then you grabbed her hand in yours. “hold on a sec. you can stay with me.”

natalie looked at you with wide eyes.

“you have nowhere to go, and besides, i’ll need someone to help me with my injury. i’m sure my parents won’t mind”, you smiled with a wink, voice like honey.

natalie pulled you in for a chaste kiss, pressing a hand on your lower back.

she literally missed your heart that day, but she shot right through it the moment you both fell in love.

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader

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randomshyperson · 1 year

Text

A pinch of paprika | Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: The night when Vision cooks for Wanda end very differently than how it went because you show up to save the dinner (and the girl). | Writing Challenge

Warning: None, it’s pure fluff with teasing and bad jokes.| Words: 1.269k

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

“Wanda, no one dislikes you.”

She would have chuckled at the Synthesized's clumsy attempt to improve her mood - It was kind, after all. - But she didn't get the chance. Another figure was entering the kitchen at the same moment Vision made the comment, and your teasing expression drew a much more sincere smile from her.

"Oh, don't speak for me, Microwave." You told him, only to look at the witch standing at the stove the next moment. "I haven't decided my opinion on that cute little witch yet."

Wanda giggles shyly at the nickname, blushing at the greeting wink you throw her. She doesn't know exactly when you two fell into this playful and comfortable dynamic, she just knows it happened and that she wouldn't trade it for anything.

Or well, maybe she could add something more...

"Hello, Miss Rogers." Vision greets half-heartedly at the sudden arrival. "I did not realize that you were still in the Tower. I figured with the current status of the Accords, you would have joined your brother..."

You waved - cutting him off as if the Robot's questioning mattered little to you. It was true because Wanda had your complete attention. Or, rather, almost, because you seemed quite curious about the pot of food.

"What is this supposed to be?" You ask her with the same tone as before, but now, much closer, enough to press your arms together when you lean in to smell the contents of the pan.

Wanda holds the spoon a little tighter. "Vision was making dinner."

You frown, looking at the robot in surprise. "I thought you couldn't eat, champ."

The machine clears its throat (Or mimics the motion, whichever way it operates).

"I was intending to raise Mrs. Maximoff's spirits." He clarifies by exchanging a look between you and Wanda. "Given the current circumstances, a comfort food should bring, well, comfort."

"Got it." You murmur offering a forced smile to the Synthesized. Wanda has no idea of the jealousy that burns in your chest at having to witness Vision think about this before you can. Screw the Accords for keeping you busy often enough.

The next moment, you taste the food, and your reaction is much more exaggerated than Wanda's, and maybe it's on purpose.

"Dude, whatever it is you tried to do here, it needs an intervention." You sneer and it's mean enough for Wanda to give you a gentle nudge for the robot's expression. You sigh begrudgingly. "Tell you what, Wanda and I will go get some ingredients at the market and you stay away from the stove-"

But just as you make mention of leaving the kitchen, Vision stands in your way. He exchanges a quick glance with Wanda to your confused chuckle.

"I'm afraid this isn't the best idea, Miss Rogers." He starts evidently uncomfortable with the whole thing.

"Dude. what the...?"

"Vision." Interferes with the witch, stepping forward. " Aren't you letting us leave?"

The Synthesized, clearly embarrassed, tries to keep his gaze on you. "I'm very sorry, but those were Mr.Stark's orders. Y/N, you shouldn't even be in the tower, but now that you are, Tony fears that other incidents might happen... It's all to ensure safety-"

The shove throws Vision at least five steps away. He locks his jaw, but you glare at him angrily.

"Get out of my way, Vision." You warn between teeth, raising a finger at the other. "Don't play Stark's butler on me. I'll have your ass unplugged."

With a gentle point toward the Stone on his head, you lower your hand. The Synthesized, though hesitating for a second, eventually steps forward.

"If you want to leave, you have every freedom to do so." He says seriously. "But Miss Maximoff-"

"Comes with me." You cut in, grabbing Wanda's hand with a tug. She gasps softly and holds your wrist with her free one, divided on not causing more trouble or just following you wherever you want. Your expression remains irritated toward the robot. "What kind of fucking attitude is that now, Vision? Betraying your own family and all that bull shit. I thought you cared about Wanda."

Vision's posture breaks, and it is evident that he would have blushed if he could. The Synthesized lowers his head in shame, and you sigh to calm yourself. When you speak again, it is much more tender than before.

"Me and Wanda just get something decent to eat. No trouble, no fuss." You say and move at a slow pace. Vision makes no mention of interfering now, and remains head down. "In the meantime, call Tony and tell him to stop being a dick."

Wanda bites back a laugh, gently pushing you out of the kitchen.

It shouldn't surprise her that you drive her into the garage, nor that you steal - borrow without asking - one of Stark's pickup trucks either. But still, seeing the set of backpacks inside, Wanda has to confirm:

"We're not going to the market, are we?"

You laugh. "Of course not, little witch." You assure her, stepping inside at the same time she does. The garage door opens, and you waste no time in taking the car out through the back of the Compound, the longer way but one that would arouse less suspicion. Splitting your gaze between the road and Wanda, you speak again: "I really thought there was something strange about this quarantine of yours, I had to check it out. Do you really think I was gonna let Tony Stark ground you? Even worse, with a guard dog at the door? Fuck them all. I'm taking you somewhere safe."

"B-but your brother..."

Your hand finds hers. "He will fight his own battles, as always." You retort gently, lacing your fingers over her thigh. "He's always done everything for Bucky, Wands. Nothing is going to change that. And I...I have someone like that now and I understand him. I finally do."

Wanda swallows dryly, shifting her gaze to your joined hands, her heart thumping in her chest. "This someone...you're talking about Natasha, right?"

You burst out laughing so loudly that you almost lose control of the car. Wanda would have slapped you if you weren't holding her hand. "Oh my god, I'm going all Thelma and Louise on you right now and you think I like Natasha? What the fuck..."

"Can you stop the car, please?" She cuts you off, and you grimace.

"We should probably move further away before-"

"I'm going to kiss you, asshole, and I don't want you to crash"

"Oh. Oh... O- okay, sure." You mumble quickly, very flushed. You let go of Wanda's hand only to shift gears, and you've barely parked on the side of the road and she's grabbing the collar of your shirt.

The first kiss you share on the highway exit under the starry New York sky tastes like chicken seasoning.

You and Wanda break into breathless laughter.

"Vision really is a terrible cook." You comment, feeling your stomach fill with nervous butterflies at the way Wanda is staring at you.

She giggles at the comment, helping you wipe some of the smeared lipstick from your lips. "And I'm still starving, detka. Can we get something to eat on the way?"

"Anything for my little witch." You assure with a passionate smile, and Wanda kisses you again before letting you get back to driving.

Many hours later, when Clint finds you guys at one of Natasha’s safe houses, he would pretend not to notice the lipstick marks fading into the collar of your shirt, nor the matching purple marks on Wanda's neck.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff oneshots

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thomas-jefferson-miku-binder · 7 months

Text

Queer League of Legends Champions (with explanations) - Part II

Check out Part I

Confirmed Pansexuals – Twisted Fate

Twisted Fate was always speculated to be part of the LGBTQ+ community due to his, uh, flamboyancy. The sentiment that he felt something more for Graves was always there, portrayed in their stories through regret, friendship, and loyalty. The Boys and Bombolini color story officially confirmed him as queer, making TFGraves the faces of Pride 2022. This year, he was also seen with the pansexual flag in official pride art, with Riot finally labeling him. It's worth noticing a cute detail (that I doubt was intentional) where his card deck's colors form the colors of his flag!

Confirmed Queers – Ahri, Ekko, Evelynn, Ezreal, Kayn, Nidalee, Renata Glasc, Samira, Taric, Udyr

Ok, this is a long category. Here we have every champion we know for sure is queer, either through external confirmation (Ekko, Ezreal, Kayn, Renata Glasc, Taric), in-game dialogue (Nidalee, Samira, Udyr), or basic lore (Ahri, Evelynn). Let's start with the first group.

Throughout the first half of 2020, Riot released multiple chapters of a Pulsifire color story focused on Ezreal. It explored his relationships with numerous champions of the universe, but especially Ekko. The subtext was strong in this one, and the writer later took to Twitter to talk about how tough it was to have queer stories be censored when working for IPs, not so subtly mentioning Ezreal and Ekko after doing so. Even though Riot might not have agreed with making the Ezko relationship undeniably romantic, their love for one another is still an important part of the story, not to mention that it was the creator's intended vision to begin with.

Renata Glasc was confirmed as sapphic by one of her creators when sharing concept art of her design. Checking the link to the original post, they seem to have deleted the excerpt that mentions it, but people took screenshots before they edited it, most likely because of Riot. Taric, on the other hand, has been speculated to be queer since forever, although the motives are not that pure. Many people saw this hairless, beautiful man that likes jewels and was like, "Huh, that sounds kinda gay," which was the common dudebro mentality of the fandom at the time of his release that caused a lot of homophobia within the player base (more than usual). They weren't wrong, seeing as Riot did include Taric in official 2023 pride art, but he was not seen wearing or holding any flags. After all, it would make sense that he likes everything—and everyone—beautiful. But either way, both Taric and Renata are non-specified queers.

Shieda Kayn is a weirder case. I thought a lot about whether I should even include him in this category at all. There are many accounts of people affirming one of Kayn's writers pictured him as having fluid sexuality, but since then, wherever it was posted, it's gone now. I do believe it since we can still find Reddit threads on the subject, but the original source is nowhere to be found. I still decided to put him here, but take it with a grain of salt.

Moving on to our next category, we have Nidalee, Samira, and Udyr. Samira flirts more than once with Elegant Edge in Legends of Runeterra, and her attraction for her is not subtle. As far as I'm aware, she's never expressed interest in men, but we can't say for sure whether she's bi, pan, or gay. Nidalee and Udyr have had speculated romantic interests in other champions for a while now. Nidalee with Neeko, Udyr with Lee Sin. Nidalee and Neeko's story was first portrayed as one-sided, with Neeko rejected by her friend, prompting them to part ways. On the other hand, the addition of both champions to Legends of Runeterra explored their relationship once again, with the two reuniting and Nidalee finally realizing she did love Neeko and simply didn't know how to deal with it all those years ago. A love song, Shine On, even accompanied the update, which narrates their story beautifully. They have many romantic voice lines now, both in LoR and League.

With Udyr's rework, people started realizing he digs Lee Sin through voice lines expressing how he misses his "old friend" and that he's "loved twice, left twice" (which applies to his relationship with Lee Sin). Besides, his design includes memorabilia he exchanged with Lee Sin when they parted ways. It is also important to mention he's had a wife before, so he swings both ways. I think the context gives more than enough clues for us to safely say Udyr is queer.

Ahri and Evelynn are spirits/demons that prey on their victims (regardless of gender) through charm and seduction. Ahri is essentially a succubus, and Evelynn is the Demon of Agony, with desire and lust being important parts of their characters. It is also worth noting that Evelynn is genderfluid/agender, taking the form of anyone (or anything) that might lure her victims. So their lore essentially confirms them as not straight and not cis (on Evelynn's case, at least).

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fangirleaconmigo · 2 months

Note

Hello dear! i asked this once but it was as a chat response so asking here just in case it got lost, no hurries! Bookverse! Dandi and geralt, Geralt gets turned away at the brothel (again) and Dandi decides if no one is gonna treat his witcher like he deserves, he'll have to.

(plz ignore if this is not relevant to your interests!)

Pan, my dear. I know you sent this almost a year and a half ago. I ADORE getting prompts, but inspiration strikes when it strikes, the fickle ho.

Geralt x Dandelion. Rated Explicit. Bottom!Geralt (first time bottoming).

Geralt is turned away from a brothel, and Dandelion takes care of him. This is porn with feelings. Love and smut ahoy. 7k words(ish)

-----

The woman at the door whispered something in Dandelion’s ear.

In other circumstances, Geralt might have heard what she said. He was standing only a few feet behind the poet, and his witcher hearing was certainly capable of it. But he didn’t hear, because he wasn’t paying the least bit of attention. His mind was occupied.

He and Dandelion had been drinking in a nearby tavern. When Dandelion suggested a brothel to relax him, Geralt happily trailed after him like a trusting pup. On the way, the witcher let his mind wander in and out of a series of increasingly vivid, sexually charged visions. He was already aroused and bristling with excess energy when they arrived at the door.

Dandelion tilted his head towards the girl. “Milady,” he responded, “why are you telling me this? Are you proud or something? Are you also proud when you get a canker on your ass? It’s a personal situation if you ask me.” He glanced back at Geralt for support, laughing haughtily. “It is lucky that my erection is more insistent than my convictions, and that I have already promised my friend an unforgettable night in your establishment which I am loathe to renege upon.”

Geralt was at a loss, trying to put together what was happening with context clues. He didn’t need to wait long. The woman looked desperately at Geralt and leaned closer towards the poet. “I said. Humans only.”

Geralt heard it that time. His stomach sank. He felt a familiar mix of humiliation and anger, which he promptly suffocated until he felt nothing. He tugged on Dandelion’s sleeve. “Come on, Dandelion.”

Dandelion ignored him. He threw his arms out. “And? We are men,” he said to the girl. He looked around melodramatically and declared a bit too loud, “I didn’t bring my horse to partake!”

The girl at the door nervously avoided Geralt’s gaze. “Master Dandelion,” she whispered strenuously, “the witcher cannot come in.”

Sometimes the ‘humans only’ rule applied to Geralt. Sometimes it didn’t. Clearly, at this place, it did. He tugged again on his friend’s sleeve, to no avail. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

To his frustration, Dandelion ignored him yet again. The poet drew himself up to full height and stuck his nose in the air. “I pity your lack of education, dear girl, but witchers are human beings. That is just a fact. But luckily for you, I am feeling generous. If you let us in right now, I will not alert your madam to this offensive gaffe.”

“Shut. Up. Dandelion,” gritted out Geralt. This time he grabbed the poet’s arm.

Dandelion yanked his arm free. He briefly glanced at Geralt. “Let me handle it. I understand these types.”

Geralt groaned and looked around desperately. A few men were wandering up the footpath towards them, customers, no doubt, who would be witnesses to the whole ordeal.

The madam appeared next to the girl at the door. She was an older woman in a lovely burgundy gown. Dandelion brightened and leaned forward conspiratorially. “Oh, I am so happy to see you, my dear lady. I hope you can clear up this misunderstanding. My friend is 100% human, I assure you,” he glanced back at Geralt. “He was born to a woman, magic though she was, and a man. Well,” he corrected himself, “we don’t rightly know who his father is.”

Geralt cringed.

“But,” the poet lifted a finger, “if you required confirmed paternity for everyone in this establishment your building would be empty as a pair of testicles after they’ve had a run at the place. You’d be in the poor house by Thursday.” The poet was picking up steam. “Half the nobility in this town claim to be descendents of great emperors, but they were secretly sired by a particular beefy blacksmith who lives two doors down, or a certain wiry goatherd who is quite randy, and one count I know of personally,” he leaned in even closer, “was sired by an actual goat, I can tell you that story…”

“Master Dandelion,” the madam hissed through her teeth, “I would if I could, but it’s a party for the warden and half the security forces will be in tonight. I’ll be shut down! You can see he’s…different!”

“What?” yelped Dandelion. Turning and looking at Geralt, pretending to be gobsmacked, then returning to the madam. “Because of his mutations? Why, that’s sheer ignorance. Mutations are endemic to life itself. We’ve all got them!” He batted his unusually blue eyes. “Some find mine quite charming.”

The madam was not nervous like the door girl. She looked straight at Geralt, though she had the goodness to be apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

Geralt dragged Dandelion away successfully this time, but the troubadour did not go quietly. One of the men coming down the path caught his attention. “Duke Heyward has a third nipple!” He shouted over his shoulder. “That’s a mutation! Can’t have that! Better turn him away! Errant nipples might ruin the mood!”

The man steadfastly ignored him and bowed to the madam. He was granted entrance, nipples and all.

“They’re all such tiresome, small minded, unimpressive donkeys,” Dandelion seethed as they walked back to the tavern. “Count Vamonet can’t tell a sonnet from a scrotum. Prince Galino farts when he comes, and he has to pay the girls extra for it. And the Algloval family are a bunch of inbred--”

Geralt’s attention turned inward as Dandelion ranted about the wretched local nobility and their many failings. The witcher returned to his thoughts as they made their way through the streets.

These kinds of rants usually made him feel better, and it did, somewhat. But there was still that tension, that pent up frustration. He was still rock hard in his trousers.

“Pathetic, the lot of them. Pox on them all,” finished Dandelion, waving at dismissively at the air. He stole a look at Geralt. “You’re awfully quiet. You haven’t told me to shut up yet. Do you feel quite alright?”

Geralt sighed. “Fine. It’s fine.”

“Well, your face still looks sour.” Dandelion brightened. “Do you want me to see if Helen is interested? I can make myself scarce.”

That was the second time that night that he’d offered the same. “No!” Geralt almost shouted it. Dandelion stopped in the street. Geralt took a few steps before he realized it and he turned to face his friend.

Helen was the server girl at the tavern, who had set the night in motion. Dandelion first performed a set, then sat down, damp curls stuck to his forehead, open tunic flaunting the dusting of blonde hair on his chest. Helen, who he’d been winking at during his performance (along with every other person in the audience), informed him that she was off work, and plopped right down his lap. The poet happily spread his thighs to give her a better seat, and wrapped his arm around her waist.

Geralt had been enjoying the evening, but at the sight of the two of them together, was seized by a growing frustration. Helen’s breasts spilled nearly out of her top and hovered near Dandelion’s face. His friend leered at them, lips so close to their gentle swell. She ever so delicately opened her legs under the table.

She wasn’t wearing anything under her skirt, and Geralt watched Dandelion’s hand creep up her thigh. Her cunt was probably hot and wet, just waiting for him to--

“Geralt?” Dandelion had abruptly asked, stopping what he was doing. “What is the matter?”

Helen looked up. When she saw Geralt’s expression, she visibly shrunk away.

“Oh pet,” Dandelion protested, turning his attention back to her, “he isn’t angry, please, that’s just his face. He’s a big pussy cat, really.”

Geralt, realizing he was scaring her, forced a smile. It only made matters worse. She scurried away.

Dandelion seemed to be conveniently forgetting that fact at this very moment. They faced one another on the dark street.

Helen is terrified of me, Geralt thought of saying. That was what Geralt meant to say. But something else came out of his mouth. “I don’t want you to make yourself scarce. I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

Dandelion looked surprised, and then intensely interested. He shoved his hands on his hips and looked down at where Geralt’s trousers strained to contain his cock. His tongue darted out and wet his lips before making eye contact with some effort. “Well. What do you want, Geralt?” He asked it casually, lightly. “There are other girls that don’t work in brothels. The night is young, yet. Tell me. What were you imagining for tonight? Talk to me.”

What were you imagining?

Geralt tried to remember the thoughts that excited him on the way to the brothel. Why had he been so very distracted that he’d missed the door girl’s whisper?

They were visions of pretty girls servicing Dandelion, right? Perhaps those visions should have been of the girls servicing him. But...Geralt stood, taking a moment to recall his fantasies. Well, pox on it. Fuck. The girls weren’t even in them.

It was all Dandelion sprawled out in bliss, with his trousers shoved down to his ankles. It was Dandelion with his head lolling back, eyes half lidded, lips open. It was Dandelion thrusting languid and whining up into welcoming lips.

Surely, he, Geralt of Rivia, didn’t want his friend that way. He didn’t think he was that kind of man. True, there had been youthful experimentation at Kaer Morhen, but it was all boys there, what else were they going to do? When he’d fallen for Yen, he thought....well he thought that was that. But now. Fuck. He was beginning to doubt.

Geralt looked into the quizzical eyes of his dearest friend. Then he turned on his heel and fled. He could hear Dandelion chuckling and calling out to him. “Geralt, come back! Blast it!”

But the witcher made a beeline to their shared room at the tavern. He was dressed for bed and under the covers with the candles out by the time Dandelion returned. Dandelion came in humming, carrying a lantern, and two glasses of wine.

“Good evening, Geralt.” Dandelion said loudly, shutting their door with a graceful tap of his heel. “I see you are already in bed for the evening.”

Geralt didn’t know what to say. “Helen wouldn’t have you?” He muttered bitterly. “She looked so eager.” But he dragged himself up to lean against the headboard. The covers fell around his waist, so he grabbed them and clutched them to his chest.

Dandelion set the lantern and glasses on the side table, and shrugged off his coat. He was still humming to himself. His lightness of spirit was slightly insulting, when Geralt was so obviously set on brooding.

The poet came to sit on the edge of the bed. Geralt’s heart raced as the mattress dipped and the warmth of Dandelion’s body filled his space.

It all felt different now, the shared room, the shared bed. All of it. The air crackled. The witcher was terrified. That was why his pulse was racing, right?

His friend sat in uncharacteristic silence for a few moments, contemplating the bedspread and then Geralt. After a moment, he spoke softly. “Geralt, those idiots were pricks to you tonight.”

His compassion caused a warmth to blossom in Geralt’s chest, but that was the kind of thing that makes a man lose control. So he shoved it down and avoided his friend’s eyes. “It’s fine.” “No, it’s not,” said Dandelion. “But well,” he smiled, still looking softer than usual, “you’ve always got me, and about a thousand other friends, to whom you are as ordinary and human as a person can be. Boring even. And the whores at that place are rubbish anyway.”

Geralt half smiled despite himself and looked up. “You said their advanced techniques would change my life.”

“I lied to make you feel better.”

Geralt gasped in sarcastic shock.

“You know,” said Dandelion. Now he was the one looking down. “I haven’t told you this yet Geralt. But I was once a harlot myself.”

Dandelion raised his eyes and for a brief moment, they looked into one another, trying to read what the other was feeling. The air between them was fragile, as though a wrong word could shatter whatever was changing between them.

Geralt wanted to be sensitive, but he was overcome with images of Dandelion naked and in compromising situations. It was the same images that had plagued him earlier in the day. “Did you... like it?”

It was the right thing to say, at least for now, because Dandelion relaxed. “I did.” He shrugged. “Most of the time anyway. Like any other job in that regard. I don’t want to brag,” he said, in his characteristic way that indicated he very much did want to brag, “but I was too popular. I got too successful. And I preferred to be famous for my music. So gradually, I-” he picked at the bedspread, “-stopped.”

“Too successful,” Geralt asked, unable to keep the curiosity from his voice. “Were there enough women to keep you busy?” he asked. “Seems like they wouldn’t have to pay for services.”

“You’d be surprised,” the poet answered. “They don’t pay you to fuck, Geralt. They pay you to leave without a fuss.”

Geralt nodded. He supposed that made sense.

Dandelion picked up his wine glass from the side table. He took a sip and swallowed primly with pursed lips. Geralt watched his throat bob with fascination. He realized that he was staring, so he picked up his glass to give himself something to do other than gape.

“But truth be told,” Dandelion’s voice lingered on the words casually, “my specialty was other men.”

Geralt should not have picked up his glass. It was a mistake. He was taking a sip the moment Dandelion said ‘men.' He coughed, and pounded his chest.

Dandelion chuckled richly. “Are you alright?”

His friend was laughing at him. Geralt was a mess of righteous indignation, hope, and desperate desire.

“‘M Fine,” he said, putting down the glass. He wanted to avoid his friend’s gaze, but that would be admitting defeat. He met Dandelion’s mirthful, predatory eyes. He immediately lost composure.

He was looking at the poet’s lips. His collarbone. The way his shirt was slightly transparent, and how every time the poet took a deep breath, his chest rose and Geralt could see his nipples.

“You’re blushing.”

“No, I am not,” mumbled Geralt defensively. “Witchers can’t blush.”

“Sure, my darling, if that is the story you prefer.”

It was the first time Dandelion had ever called him darling. He called him my dear all the time. Geralt loved it every time, but darling was just a little more...romantic.

Geralt had no idea what to do with his face, his hands, or his rebellious cock, which was every bit as hard as before.

“What are you thinking about Geralt?”

Why did Dandelion sound so blasted smug? The prick. Geralt’s fingers trembled, his pulse raced. He decided to just let his body speak for him, without thought. “If I came to your brothel. In those days.” He tried not to stammer, but he sounded halting. He decided to just push the words out. “Would you have serviced me? A mutant.”

He was staring at his own hands now. He almost jumped when Dandelion’s hand covered his own, warm and tender.

Geralt looked up, relaxing into the touch.

Dandelion looked amused, but fond. “That depends.”

He was toying with him, the fucking bastard.

“On what,” Geralt asked flatly.

“I’d ask to take a look at your cock.” His eyes sparkled. “To see if it is mutated of course.” He moved his hand to the side of the sheet and pinched, as if ready to pull it aside.

Geralt tried not to smile. A smile would be an admission that the charms of his friend had vanquished him yet again.

“Well, go on,” teased Dandelion. “Answer me. Will you let me inspect your prick to see if it is too mutated to fit in my mouth?”

“You’ve seen my cock,” Geralt grumbled, wriggling, trying to hide how the aforementioned anatomy twitched at the forthright, confident manner of his friend.

“Yes, but I don’t remember what it looked like,” said Dandelion with faux innocence that did not suit him. “I’ve only seen flashes. In and out of baths, that kind of thing. And of course, I have always been too gentlemanly to sneak a peek.”

“Liar.” Geralt bit his cheeks. He nodded at where Dandelion’s hand held the corner of the blanket. “Well, go ahead.”

Dandelion’s face broke into a shit eating grin. He took the edge of the sheets and pulled them aside. Geralt inhaled fast and held his breath. He had on a flimsy undergarment with an opening at the front. His excitement was extremely apparent.

Geralt wriggled a little again, repositioning himself. He felt utterly exposed. Why was it making him more aroused than he had ever remembered being in his life?

It was Dandelion’s reaction to his body. Geralt could smell lust, and the wave of it that came off his friend was so powerful, the witcher was instantly intoxicated by it. Furthermore, the poet was looking at him with such a ravenous expression that Geralt blinked. It called to mind a wolf staring at a cut of raw meat.

Geralt was used to being the hunter. He had never been the prey. A thrill ran through him the likes of which he had never experienced.

“Geralt.” The poet was suddenly earnest, tight, and controlled. The switch made Geralt dizzy. His friend pulled his hands back, and squeezed his own thighs.

“Yes?” Geralt rasped.

“I cannot restrain myself any longer.” His voice trembled. “If you want me to stop now, you’re going to have to throw me out on my neck”

Geralt tried to respond, but only an airy squeak of nothing came from his mouth. He tried again. “Good. Don’t. Don’t restrain yourself that is.”

“Fucking hell. Sweet Melitele’s milky tits.”

Dandelion scrambled to straddle Geralt’s lap. Eyes shining, he cradled the witcher’s face in his hands. Geralt’s arms, of their own accord, wrapped around the poet.

Dandelion kissed him with such ferocious tenderness, Geralt felt his eyes prickle. That ferocity...Dandelion had wanted to do this for a very long time. Maybe years. And the tenderness. Dandelion kissed him like he was the most fragile, precious creature in all of creation.

The thought that Dandelion might have been harboring a hidden love for him was a shocking revelation. But Geralt could not fully grasp it. Not when his body’s reaction to Dandelion’s tongue and his weight on Geralt’s lap was leading him to yet another shocking revelation.

“Dandelion,” he cleared his throat and tilted back just enough to leave a sliver of space between their lips as they panted.

“Yes, Geralt.”

“Am I...this kind of man?”

Dandelion threw his head back and laughed. It was a bit rude actually. He ground his hips ever so slightly on Geralt’s hard cock. Geralt made an aborted noise of pleasure.

“Oh, I quite think you are darling,” Dandelion said smugly. “Wait. Does that vex you?”

Once again, Geralt didn’t want to think. He just wanted to respond. “I don’t think so,” he said. Then he realized the truth. “No. Not a bit.”

“Ah, well then. Shall I proceed?”

“Please do.”

Dandelion slipped off of his lap. Geralt found it difficult to abide the loss of his body. “Wait.”

Dandelion’s response was muffled by his shirt slipping from his head. “Apologies, my dear, but I must make haste, in case you change your mind.”

His dearest friend was pulling off his clothing at a blinding rate, vibrating with an air of disbelief and excitement.

“I won’t change my mind.” After it came from Geralt’s mouth, he realized that it was true.

Dandelion flashed him another smile. “Still. I won’t take any chances.”

Dandelion was quickly naked and scrambled back onto the bed without much grace. “Hips up.”

Geralt lifted his hips. Dandelion stripped away Geralt’s underclothes. Then, they were naked together.

What shocked Geralt the most was that it felt like the most natural thing in the world. He felt nothing but pleasure at the sight of Dandelion’s full erection, nestled in a puff of blonde curls. He felt nothing but excitement when the poet straddled him yet again, his solid but soft torso in Geralt’s grasp. The witcher groaned at an embarrassing volume when Dandelion wrapped his nimble fingers around his cock.

“May I, love?” Dandelion licked his lips.

Geralt’s heart almost stopped. “Say that again,” he whispered.

“May I....love?”

“Please. Yes. Anything.”

Dandelion scooted back and dragged his warm tongue up the entire length of Geralt’s erection, lingering on the tip, kissing it messily.

Geralt writhed. “Please.”

“Please, what?” Dandelion batted his lashes then sucked Geralt’s entire cock into his mouth. Geralt almost shouted, but managed to clap a hand over his mouth and turn it into another moan.

He wanted a release. He wanted to explode.

His mind may not have realized his feelings for his friend, but his body was certainly aware that this was something he’d been holding in for a very long time.

But Geralt didn’t just want to cum. He wanted to do it on his friend, in his friend, it didn’t matter how.

“Let me. I wanna.” He gasped. “Fuck.”

Dandelion looked at him with soft but hungry eyes as he bobbed on his cock. At the sight of the poet’s expression, the way he looked stuffed with Geralt’s cock, the witcher thought he would lose it. But his friend expertly stopped just before Geralt’s peak.

He toyed with the witcher like that for some time, bringing him to peak, then pulling away. As he did, he ran his hands all over Geralt’s body. He murmured sweet nothings to him.

“You’re so gorgeous like this love. Look at you. Oh, fuck you’re stunning. I can’t believe I get to look at you like this.”

Geralt melted. He melted into his mouth, he melted against the bed. He became a blubbering, begging mess of a man.

“Please, oh, please. Just let me. Just. Oh, fuck.”

Just when he thought he had reached the height of pleasure, Dandelion began to use his fingers.

“Spread your thighs, darling.”

Geralt thought to protest. He felt self conscious. But he had said that Dandelion could do anything, and he’d meant it. Allowing himself to act without overthinking it had gotten him here, so the strategy was clearly working.

He spread his legs obediently.

Geralt fell apart when Dandelion cupped him, caressed him, and massaged him firmly in places he’d never even seen.

Vaguely, he thought that the room next to them could probably hear him whining. If he were allowing himself to think about it, he might have been embarrassed. But he wasn’t.

When Dandelion returned his lips to his cock, he also grasped his shaft, moving both his hands and his mouth expertly, Geralt came. His body locked up and his moans were silent and airy. He covered Dandelion’s head with his hands and thrust into the eager lips of his dearest friend. He shoved and shoved until he released in a haze of animalistic desire.

Then he fell back, slackened and panting.

Dandelion kissed his softening cock. He licked up all of Geralt’s spend and made a show of swallowing it for him.

Geralt stroked Dandelion’s damp locks lazily. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, indeed.”

Dandelion crawled into his arms, placing a sweaty kiss on Geralt’s temple. They were both damp, from sweat and tears. Geralt squeezed him tight, waiting for the thudding of his heart to subside.

“Fuck.”

When Dandelion’s erection brushed his thigh, Geralt wanted to kick himself. He had been so wrapped up in his own pleasure, he’d been selfish. He needed to make sure Dandelion got satisfaction as well.

“What can I--” the witcher stopped, realizing he had little idea what the fuck he was doing. What could he even offer? Back in Kaer Morhen in his teen years, there had mostly been furtive yanking and sucking in closets and dark dormitories. And here he was with a proper expert, a former professional. What skills did he really have? How did you fuck a man without hurting him? Shit, he couldn’t fuck anyone right now anyway. He leaned forward and kissed Dandelion. “What do you want, poet?” He figured that was a better question, instead of promising something he couldn’t deliver, at least not in a competent way.

Dandelion had a half smile, like he was up to something. “Well, since my wildest dreams are coming true today, I’m just going to ask for it.”

Geralt barked a laugh, and felt slightly, deliciously self conscious. “Alright. Spit it out.”

Dandelion leaned closer, kissed Geralt’s cheek, and whispered provocatively in his ear. As he did, he traced languid circles on Geralt’s chest and stomach. This, Geralt thought, was what made Dandelion so popular. That and the expert cock sucking.

“Witcher mine, I have been following behind you for years,” he murmured sensually. “And do you know what has always confounded me?”

“What?”

“Having to stare at your round, juicy looking, perfect peach and never being invited to fuck it.”

Well. Geralt hadn’t expected that. He’d never really thought of himself that way. As an object of such fervent desire.

“My. Ass?”

“Oh yes, love. You’d better believe it.” Dandelion’s eyes fluttered closed and he hummed in bliss, like one did after taking a big bite of a pastry fresh out of the oven. “The shapeliest ladies have nothing on your delicious plump looking posterior. Has no one told you?”

Dandelion had called him love again. Geralt was beginning to understand that every time Dandelion called him love, the witcher felt willing and able to scoop out his own organs and gift them to the poet if he so desired them.

"No."

“That is a tragic story indeed.” Dandelion ground his rock hard cock into Geralt’s thigh. “How someone with such a perfect ass has never been told about its charms.”

Geralt allowed himself a slightly smug smile and he squeezed Dandelion tighter. He kissed the side of the poet’s head and hummed into his hair. “Really? That good, huh?”

The poet growled and rolled his hips again. “Please, Geralt. Don’t make me beg.”

Well. Shit. Geralt’s heart beat faster. “I want to, but. I don’t. I’ve never.” Then he just blurted it out. “Does it hurt?”

Dandelion stopped what he was doing and rolled over, propping himself on arm. He looked absolutely gleeful. “You mean I would be the first? Me?”

Geralt looked away and flushed a bit. He hummed his assent.

Dandelion practically whooped. “I will be taking Geralt of Rivia’s virgin ass? Have I died? Is this heaven?” The poet caught himself. “I mean, of course, only if you want to.” He tried to sound sexy and soft again, but his leering smile looked ridiculous.

It was a pathetic effort, but it still pleased Geralt for some reason. He was doomed, wasn’t he?

“I’m not a virgin. Obviously.”

“Still. May I?”

“Just. Be careful. You will, right?”

Dandelion took one of Geralt's hands and nuzzled it. Managing to find gentle sincerity within himself, he said, “Of course I will, love. I will be gentle. I will be tender. I will make it so very lovely for you.”

Geralt nodded. “Alright. What do I do?” He felt a bit moronic asking, but he would feel worse if he did something wrong.

“Well, I was rewarded by the sight of your handsome face in ecstasy. Now, since for all I know, this could be my only chance, I would be honored to enjoy the sight of your perfect, round ass jiggling as I fuck it.”

Geralt swallowed. “So, I turn over?”

“If you please.” Dandelion scooted back on the bed, kneeling, watching rapturously as Geralt agreeably turned over. The witcher was rewarded with a low whistle. “Oh, yes. Sweet mother of mine, what a specimen of a posterior.” Geralt could feel Dandelion’s soft, strong hands gliding over his body and squeezing his ass. The effect, along with Dandelion’s evident enthusiasm made him prickle with pleasure.

“Shut up.”

“I will not. I am already writing the ballad as we speak.”

There was no use telling him to shut up again. Geralt closed his eyes and reveled in the sensation of being caressed. His scars were particularly sensitive, and Dandelion was sliding his hands over every last bit of him.

“Hands and knees, my dear witcher.”

Geralt obediently rose onto hands and knees. Dandelion moaned, gravelly and wanton. Geralt could hear him stroking his own cock as he squeezed one cheek then the other. Experimentally, Geralt arch his back, and enjoyed the strangled groan-laugh behind him.

If he had felt exposed before, that was nothing compared to what he felt now. Now he felt completely, utterly vulnerable. And yet? His body buzzed with pleasure low in his abdomen.

Geralt could hear Dandelion shift. Then he felt a kiss, followed by a playful nibble the back of his thighs. Dandelion leaned away to reach for something.

“Relax, love.”

Geralt heard Dandelion remove his rings, and then he heard a tin of something open and close. Then Dandelion’s fingers were at his entrance, slippery and wet. Geralt shivered. He flinched.

“Shhhhh,” Dandelion quieted him and patted his haunch as though he were a skittish mare. Geralt relaxed.

“It’s alright,” cooed Dandelion. “The famous poet Dandelion will be your first. Think of the stories you will be able to tell your grandchildren.”

“You’re an idiot.” Geralt chuckled but his laugh turned into a drawn out ‘oooo’ as Dandelion entered him with a finger. “See, that’s nice isn’t it, Geralt?”

It took Geralt a moment to answer. It was a new feeling.

“Y-y-yes?” he said.

“Is that a question or an answer, my witcher?” Dandelion asked playfully. He slid further and Geralt released a sigh. His body wanted to scoot away, and shove backwards at the same time. But Geralt decided not to do either. He just held still and allowed himself to feel.

“Yes.” He answered breathily, but with more confidence that time.

Dandelion scooted closer. Geralt could feel the warmth and the softness of the hair on the poet’s legs as they pressed against his. How his friend managed to slip in a second finger at the angle, Geralt wasn’t sure. But the tightness, the fullness, made him whimper.

“Oh, that sound,” growled Dandelion. “I cannot wait another second, Geralt, my dear, I am going to fuck the sense out of you.”

He could hear slippery noises as Dandelion quickly slicked his own cock. The poet grasped him with one hand. Geralt stole a glance back and saw his friend’s ravenous, predatory face. He saw the blonde poet grasping the base of his cock, lining himself up. The tip of his tongue was stuck out, and he was lost completely in the moment.

Dandelion felt Geralt’s attention and he looked up. They locked eyes right as Dandelion pushed. Geralt whimpered and his body jerked, but Dandelion held his hips stock-still with surprisingly strong hands as he pressed inside with an excruciatingly slow gentleness. “Here you go, love. You can take this, can’t you?” he purred.

Geralt sensed that taunting Dandelion right now might yield some interesting results. “I won’t break. Fuck me already.”

Dandelion’s eyes ignited and he squeezed Geralt so hard, he knew he would be bruised. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes. Fucking do it already.”

It was daring talk for an amateur, Geralt knew. But he had stopped thinking. He was just spouting off now.

Dandelion bent over him and wrapped his arm around his hips like a vise and thrust. Geralt could tell his friend was still holding back, but the motion made him feel such shocking fullness, that it chased all rational thought away, emptying his mind.

Dandelion pulled back then. Right when Geralt thought he would slip away, Dandelion thrust again. Geralt marveled at how tight he could feel, the sounds the poet could punch from his throat. The sounds were cut off every time Dandelion’s hips made impact, but grew louder and more frantic with every stroke.

Dandelion’s hair brushed his back. He could feel his friend’s lips by his ear. “You love it, don’t you. Your ass is the perfect vessel for my cock, isn't it?” he whispered, his necklaces slightly grazing Geralt’s shoulder blades. The poet was beginning to sweat and his chest dragged down Geralt’s back.

Geralt nodded. It was difficult to manage while bouncing on another man’s cock.

“Say it,” Dandelion challenged him.

“Yes. I’m yours.”

Dandelion tenderly brushed Geralt’s hair away from his neck, and kissed the back of his neck as he fucked into him.

As the witcher’s body became more lax and able to accept the intrusion, Dandelion thrust with more power. Geralt had to brace himself against the wall to keep from slapping into it.

Dandelion was no longer treating him with kid gloves. Geralt had no idea that his body would allow anything inside that deep. He bounced and shook and cried out. He felt like some kind of rag doll.

“Dandelion,” he whispered into the dark.

“Say that again,” came the response from behind him.

“Dandelion.”

Dandelion’s pace grew more furious and punishing. Geralt was shocked by what his body could take. Dandelion began to sound like him, grunting, and moaning.

But right when he thought Dandelion would peak, he stopped and pulled out.

“Don’t stop,” Geralt begged. He writhed and reached back, grasping to pull his lover back.

“Be still,” Dandelion chided.

Geralt obeyed. He quieted himself and became still, waiting on hands and knees. His thighs trembled. His hair stuck to his sweaty, sticky body.

Just when he was ready to ask Dandelion what the fuck he was doing, he felt the poet grasp both sides of his ass and part him. The cool air caressed Geralt on his sensitive skin and he shivered.

Dandelion swore a filthy oath in several different languages, only some of which Geralt understood.

“I’m going to watch myself cum in you, witcher.”

Dandelion leaned forward and pushed down on Geralt’s back. The witcher wasn’t sure what the poet wanted, until his elbows buckled and his face was smashed against the pillow.

Dandelion hummed, ever so pleased with himself. He whistled. “That’s better. What a view.” He grasped the witcher, trapping his hips.

Geralt closed his eyes, determined to feel everything, to remember everything. The fat head of his dearest friend’s cock nudged him. By now, Geralt was fucked, slick, and ready.

Now it was the poet’s turn to whine like an animal when he slid inside Geralt.

“Look at you, swallowing my cock. You were made for me to fuck.”

The pillow under Geralt’s face grew damp, and he groaned into it as Dandelion took his pleasure.

The poet shoved as deeply as he could when he came, and the sound he made was cathartic. He held Geralt still, draped over his back, as he rode out his pulsing orgasm.

“Oh, Geralt. My darling.” He whispered it so quietly into Geralt’s back, that if Geralt were not a witcher, he might not have heard it.

Dandelion collapsed next to Geralt and pulled him close. They held each other in the dark, by the flickering lamp. They lay intertwined, clinging to each other, allowing the enormity of what they had done to settle over them.

What if everything changed.

What if nothing changed?

“Geralt?” Dandelion’s voice was surprising small. “Kiss me?”

Geralt ran his fingers through Dandelion’s hair. And he kissed him.

They would start there.

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