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guiltyasdave · 3 months

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hold on to this lullaby

chapter 4 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, nightmares, implied death of a character, the angst is once again angsting, reader's thoughts have suicidal undertones sometimes

a/n: girlie is once again going through it. i know that we're moving at a very slow pace but the chemistry is growing, slowly but steadily :)

shoutout to @toomanytookas who left the most thoughtful analysis on the last chapter, and noticed how the doors being open or closed works as a metaphor for the state of their relationship. looking back, that is very true, but truth be told, it wasn't a conscious writing choice on my part lol. i love it so much though and am now using it very purposefully, so thank you for bringing that to my attention and just for being so incredibly kind <3

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

You’re running through the woods, running, running. Searching for something, someone, that you know you won’t find.

Keep them safe. Promise me. We’ll be there soon.

No one’s safe. No one’s coming. No one’s there. Your hands are wet, dripping with red, leaving a trail behind you. You trip, falling down to your knees, hands sinking into the earth. There’s nowhere to go, nothing to find.

Still, you have to keep running. Running running running, searching searching searching. Keep them safe. Promise me.

You’re used to it.

Eyes flying open to suffocating, disorienting darkness, gasping for breath in the stale air of your room, the blanket much too heavy on your body. The images that your subconscious conjured up, still playing behind your eyelids. Your heart racing, your mind struggling to find its way back to reality. Lying alone in the darkness, only gradually able to discern your dream from your real life, the horrors blending into one another too intricately, too smilar to be separated.

You’re still gasping, tears burning hot in your eyes and leaving wet tracks on your face. But it’s not dark, this time. And you’re not alone. The blurry shape of Joel slowly comes into focus, illuminated by the soft glow from the lamp on your nightstand. The weight of his hand is still resting on your shoulder, anchoring you to the present, and you realize that he must have shaken you awake. That you must have been loud.

You’ve wondered before, if you’re making noises, if the sobs that wrack through your body in your dreams follow you into reality. There’s never been a way to find out, before, but now it seems like they do, loud enough to travel through the closed door and wake Joel up.

Heat blooms on your face, fueled by shame and guilt, both for disturbing his sleep and for your behavior earlier.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice stumbling over the words, thick with sleep and more tears.

“Hey, no,” he replies softly, soothingly, his voice a deep rumble, his touch still firm on your shoulder. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

You shrug, too exhausted to argue. His other arm twitches at his side, reaching towards you before he stops himself, sitting back on his haunches, groaning quietly at the movement.

“You wanna–” he clears his throat, shifting slightly, “you wanna talk about it? Or is there anything else I can do?”

You quickly shake your head, eyes trained on your hands that are clasped in your lap. He waits for another beat, before he hums, his knees creaking as he stands back up.

You miss the feeling of his hand on you as soon as it disappears, but you can’t possibly bring yourself to ask for that, so you swallow against the lump in your throat, watching his retreating silhouette in your doorway.

“Joel?” Your hushed voice travels through the dimly lit room. He halts at once, turning back around to face you, the lines on his face somehow softer than you know them. “Could you— keep the door open? Just a little?”

You’re awake for a long time after he leaves, at first listening to the fall of his quiet footsteps retreating to the other room, the faint rustle of his sheets as he gets back into bed, Ellie’s hushed voice and his responding grumble, but you can’t make out the words. When it’s quiet again, you retreat into the swirling mess inside your head. Unable to turn the light off, unable to close your eyes, terrified of the darkness and the images it might bring back.

You’ve tried not to think about it too hard, afraid of jinxing yourself, but you’ve noticed that you’ve slept better since Ellie and Joel have arrived. It’s like their presence, the change they’ve brought to your life, is enough to keep your mind occupied, like a safety blanket has been draped over you, keeping the worst of it away from you. But yesterday’s events must have ripped holes into it, must have brought the past and its pain to the forefront again.

You drift back off eventually, nothingness engulfing your tired mind and pulling you into a dreamless sleep that you’re thankful for.

You’re roused by the sounds from outside the door, the movements of someone being up filtering through the gap that Joel left open last night. It takes a while until you get your bearings, until the memories all come back to you. The familiar fear, the panic. The unfamiliar presence of someone beside you, of a touch on your shoulder.

Following the sounds, you find Joel in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, something that you usually do. You watch him for a second, taking in his messy morning hair, the specks of gray, the furrow of concentration in his brow as he’s stirring oatmeal. The steaming cup in his other hand, almost dwarfed by his large fingers, that you know must contain coffee.

His eyes widen for a second when he notices you leaning against the doorframe, scrutinizing your face, gauging the state you’re in. You try a tentative smile, taking a step towards him, nodding towards the pot on the stove.

“Thought breakfast was my job.” You’re pleased with how normal your voice sounds, nothing like the mess from last night.

Joel shrugs, the expression on his face just a smidge too innocent, too casual.

“You’re doing more than enough for us. Thought I’d let you sleep in.”

You don’t have it in you to start a discussion about it, and you wouldn’t know how to explain this to him anyway. How you don’t want him to do things for you, don’t want to know what it’s like to have someone else care for you. Don’t want to feel how nice it is, even in such small doses. How you’re overly conscious of the fact that it will get taken away again before you know it, that you’d do well not to get used to it. How you’re not sure if you’ll be able to survive having something nice ripped away from you yet again.

So you smile, mutter a thank you, Joel, and when he suggests that you take a shower, that he’ll be finished by the time you’re ready, you agree. Suddenly, you’re aware of the night’s sweat that has dried on your skin, clinging to you and making you feel sticky. Suddenly, you’re desperate to wash it off your skin, to leave the last night behind you and not look back.

With the stream of warm water raining down on you, the stiffness in your neck eases a bit and your breath’s coming more freely again, pieces of the tension that’s been coursing through you since last night slowly melting away. Still, you keep shivering, no matter how much you’re trying to open your body up to the warmth surrounding you, to let it drive out the coldness that’s emanating from your chest.

Move on, your own voice echoes in your head. Keep living. The promise you’ve made to yourself, that you’re trying to keep, even though some days, you’re not sure why.

Your arms are wrapped tightly around yourself when you enter the living area again. You’ve pulled on one of your warmest sweaters, one that you’ve knitted yourself, over the course of several long, lonely days, with nothing else to keep your hands and mind occupied. Still, you feel cold.

Ellie is up now, sitting on the couch, a bowl of oatmeal all but forgotten in her lap and her nose buried in one of the comics you gave her, the artwork on the cover all too familiar to you. She jumps when she sees you, hastily stuffing the book in between her thigh and the cushion beside her, a guilty expression in her eyes as she looks at you.

“Sorry,” she mumbles before you can say anything, her hands clasped in her lap. It breaks your heart to see her like this, to know that she heard you last night too. How much your behavior must have scared her. That she probably feels responsible, even though your mind was already in a bad state long before you’ve even met her.

It does hurt, seeing those drawings of galactic adventures that you’ve seen a million times before, with another pair of eyes glued to the pages. Another child excitedly recounting the stories to you over and over, until you basically knew them by heart and listened to them time and time again anyway, because his happiness made you happy.

The pain of it weighs heavy on you, but not as heavy as the urge to protect her from being hurt, to wipe that guilt off her face.

“The pages are gonna crumple like that,” you say, softly, hoping to convey with your eyes what you don’t have the words for.

She slowly pulls it back out, shooting you careful glances. “Are you sure?” She sounds so young right now, so unsure of herself, and yet she’s trying to look out for you, trying not to hurt you, when she really shouldn’t have to.

You’re nodding, convincing the both of you, that it’s fine, that you’re fine.

“Yeah,” you smile. “That one’s good, enjoy it.”

You duck into the kitchen, mumbling about urgently needing a cup of coffee. You’re certain that Joel has heard your conversation, and that he sees how glassy your eyes are, but he doesn’t comment on it, just quietly hands you a cup, his fingertips faintly grazing yours.

It’s a subdued kind of day. Both Ellie and Joel are trying hard to act casual around you, but you feel the lingering glances, notice the looks exchanged behind your back, the cloud of worry that’s surrounding both of them. It makes you nervous, weirdly conscious of your every movement. And you’re still cold.

You end up watching another cheap action movie that evening, Ellie curled up on the armchair while you and Joel are occupying the couch. Your chin is resting on your knees, arms wrapped around your legs, eyes fixed on the small TV. But your mind is wandering, barely taking in the scenes playing out on the screen.

Your thoughts keep going back to how Joel touched you last night, how his hand had rested on your shoulder. How good it had felt, how you have the inexplicable need to feel it happening again. How warm his hand had been. You wonder if his touch might be able to finally stop you from feeling like you’re slowly freezing from the inside.

Another involuntary shiver runs through you. Joel’s gaze slides from the screen to you beside him. He doesn’t ask if you’re cold, being familiar enough with you by now to know that you’d deny it. Even as another wave of coldness passes through you, causing your shoulders to tremble slightly.

His brow is creased with worry as he wordlessly leans over to you, spreading the blanket that had been folded over the armrest that he’s leaning against over your shoulders. Your lips tip up in a grateful smile, the long lost feeling of someone caring for you engulfing you in more warmth than the blanket could ever provide. You allow yourself to get lost in it, just for a little while.

The blanket faintly smells like him, you realize as you pull it tighter around yourself and up to your chin, inhaling deeply. A different kind of warmth is creeping up your cheeks and you turn your face towards the TV once more, oblivious to the way Joel keeps watching you from the corner of his eye.

When you go to bed later that evening, you leave your bedroom door ajar once again.

thank you for reading <3 comments, reblogs and asks are love and make my day every single time!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedrostories #janas fics

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beachbabe000 · 2 months

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Scary Movies // Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Matt comes over unannounced as you're watching a scary movie.

Content Warning: Masturbation, language, Penetration, matt x reader

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I pulled the blanket up higher on my body, the tv casting the only light in the room. I decided to take a night to myself away from work, friends etc. I decided on laying in bed pretty much all day reading and watching tv, a good time of resting.

By this point it was around 9 am and I was finally getting bored. I had a thought out of nowhere. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten off and I could feel the frustration building over that amount of time.

I reached over and opened my nightstand drawer, pulling out my favorite purple vibrator. I threw my blanket off and pulled my shorts down. Lightly grazing my fingertips down my stomach, I reached my clit. I started rubbing small gentle circles at first. Once I felt myself getting wet, I turned on my vibrator and placed it over my clit.

I started to feel tension build in my abdomen. The tv still on in the background making noise that I couldn’t even make out anymore. The room started to go black as my release was coming over me.

“Oh shit.” I heard a whisper causing me to stop in a sudden motion. I’m surprised I heard even that with the state I was in. I’m lightheaded and still processing what just happened. Looking over into the doorway of my bedroom I see Matt standing there.

Me and Matt are good friends. Have been for about a year. It got to the point I even gave him a key to my house. But he’s never come over unannounced before until now. Perfect timing for that.

“Matt. What are you doing? Why didn’t you call?” He just looked at me in a daze. His eyes hooded and his lips parted. He licked his lips to wet them after his breath had dried them out when he realized I was talking to him. How long had he been standing there? “I did.” he said barely above a whisper. “You didn’t answer. Now I see why.” He looked from my face to my bare body and back to my face again. I then remembered I was naked. In front of Matt.

I pulled the blanket over me in haste. “Let’s just not talk about this, okay? Pretend it didn’t happen?”

The blanket now covering my body allowed him to give me his full attention. He shook his head and rubbed his forehead, his eyes closed. “Yeah, sorry y/n. I didn’t mean to intrude. Um, yeah let’s just do that. So, what are we watching?” He drops his bag on the floor that had been sloppily hanging from his shoulder the entire time. Looks like he was planning to stay the night, which isn’t unusual. We’ve had many sleepovers before.

He plopped himself down on my bed on the side I don’t usually sleep on. “Uh, um, it’s a horror movie.” I sunk down back into the bed trying to get comfortable, but it just wasn’t happening.

“I like horror movies.” He also looked uncomfortable. Though the attempt to relax was there for him as well.

We were a bit through the movie before we both started to finally relax. His arm naturally found its way slung over the back of the pillows and I was cuddled on my side towards him. My head facing the tv. We normally have never had a problem touching. Me laying my head on his arm or something small like that.

There was one part of the movie that made me jump practically out of my skin, pulling a laugh from Matt. This also caused me to laugh. It was probably the most comfortable we’ve been with each other all night.

He looked down at me. “You scared?” He was smiling in a teasing way. “No! I never get scared.” I huffed looking to and away from him. He chuckled, “Yeah. Okay.”

His hand found its way from the back of the pillows to my shoulder, trailing his fingers up and down. It was extremely comforting and something he normally does. He knows I like physical touch and it was his attempt to calm me down from fearing the movie.

My body naturally moved towards his and I laid my head on his chest. He responded by wrapping his arm around me. We were almost to the end of the movie when there was another jump scare that got me again. He laughed. “Wimp.” I hit his chest. “Shut up.”

He looked down at me and rubbed circles on my shoulder. “You know, those sounds you were making when I got here were pretty cute.” My body froze. I didn’t expect him to say anything like that. Or even acknowledge the incident anymore. I looked up at him with a face of shock.

He was smiling down at me, “I’d really like to hear them again.” His smirk made me melt; his words made me shiver. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing was coming out. He took this opportunity to lean down and capture my open mouth in his, sliding his tongue in before I could lock my lips fully onto his. A moan from the surprise escaped my lips. I could feel the spot between my legs start to pulsate as it grew wet.

His hand tightened on my shoulder as the other one found my hip and turned me towards him. We shared many heated kisses before my arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him on top of me. His legs tangled in mine as his hands pulled my hips up into his. He grinded into me causing me to make a small whimper. He broke the kiss to look at me, “You okay to go further?” All I could do in my starstruck state was nod.

He reached for the bottom of my shirt and pulled it up and over my head, discarding it to the floor. “God you’re beautiful.” He took in the sight of my naked torso before connecting his lips with mine again. His hand snaked its way up to my breast giving it a gentle squeeze. I bucked my hips into his. He groaned into my mouth and gripped my breast harder.

He reached down and unbuttoned my pants, starting to pull them down and over my feet. Discarding his own shirt and pants afterwards. He kissed me again and rubbed his hand down my stomach to my now soaked pussy. “Fuck. You’re so wet.” He looked down at his hand while sticking a finger inside of me. I moaned moving my hands to his shoulders. He looked back up at me. “This feel good?” He breathed, his nose grazing mine.

I nodded in response, unable to form words anymore. He added another finger looking for my reactions. One of my hands found the sheet by my body and gripped it in my fingers. My eyes squeezed shut as I leaned my head back into the pillow with a low moan. He swooped down and started leaving sloppy wet kisses on my neck.

He took his fingers out of me and moved his hand to his member, stroking it with my juices. He moaned, throwing his head back. “I’m gunna fuck you so hard. Those noises you were making are nothing compared to the ones I’m going to bring out of you.”

With that statement he then rubbed his tip against my wet folds, and before I knew it, he was inside me. He thrusted himself into me so roughly my entire body moved. “Oh my god!” A loud moan came out of me as my hands threw up to grab his shoulders, keeping myself in place.

He started pumping in and out of me, not even taking time to let me get used to him. The sudden constant contact brought loud moans and whimpers from my throat. Leaning down to nip my neck, he was definitely leaving marks.

Then somehow, he thrusted even harder and faster. I was basically screaming at this point. His name coming out of my mouth as if it were my last words I’d ever speak. He was groaning and moaning so loud, and looked down at me to make eye contact when he could. His eyes were full of lust and adoration of the effect he was having on me.

“Fuck Matt I’m going to come. Please don’t stop!” He grabbed my hips tighter and moved them with his own, gaining deeper access. This caused my orgasm to come faster than I thought it would. I clenched around his dick, and he could feel my release coat him. “That’s right baby, come all over me. Fuck!” His last groan came with his own release. His eyes rolled to the back of his head. His grip on me so tight that I’d have bruises in the morning.

I could feel him pulse inside of me before pulling out. His hands moved from my hips to the sides of my head as he fell over me. We tried to catch our breaths while still feeling the effects of our high. Once we recovered, he got up to grab something to clean me and himself up, then landed back on the bed next to me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into him, creating a new warmth between us. “Told you I’d make those sounds louder.” He breathed in my ear, still a little out of breath. He kissed my cheek, and I looked back at him. “Wanna watch another scary movie?” He chuckled, “Only if you jump in my arms again. Maybe we can go for round two and this time you could jump onto something else.” He smirked down at me wiggling his eyebrows. I just chuckled slapping his arm and grabbed the remote.

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #imagine #smut #sturniolo smut #fanfic #matt and chris #matt x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic

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justporo · 1 year

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An Assortment of Strays

I believe I still owe you guys a drabble about how Astarion adopts a stray kitten. So here you go. @mushy6902 this one's on you again! (Also I only googled what you could give a kitten for improvisation, don't take that as advice!)

Artwork by the wonderful @britonell ❤️

Pairing: Astarion/Gn!Tav

Wordcount: 2,2k

After an autumn storm Astarion comes home completely drenched, under his doublet jacket he has a small kitten that's desperately trying to cling to the vampire's chest.

Astarion had gone out to run some errands - probably mostly threads for his embroidery projects and some new tomes he could brood over.

He‘d asked you if you would care to join but you had taken a look outside your tall living room window, seen the autumn storm brewing outside, making itself known with stormy winds and clouds passing over the moon and told him “thank you, but no thank you”.

He couldn‘t catch a cold - you could, and weren‘t very keen on it.

Then you had cozied up in front of the lit fireplace with a goblet of wine - you had adopted Astarion‘s inclination to it in no time - and a book. Surely, it had started to rain cats and dogs soon after. And because you were such a nice and thoughtful person you had already collected some towels for the vampire when he would return and curse the weather, looking like a wet puppy, his white curls all but flattened by the rain and drooping adorably around his pointy ears.

He took much longer than expected though but you weren‘t worried - he was a free man now after all and could do whatever he pleased.

So, you sat and read - Scratch had come over too when the storm had really started going. After your party had split after everything was said and done, you‘d insisted on keeping the stray. So now he lived with Astarion and you in your little townhouse and very much enjoyed being spoiled by you.

Astarion didn‘t bond with the dog awfully much - „rather a cat person, my love, sorry“ - but he still sometimes could be found sitting in the window alcove reading with the dog in his lap, who received some head scratches.

Scratch had almost buried himself under the blanket you had spread over your legs now, when the first lightning strikes had turned into roaring thunder. You were gently patting his head and ears to soothe him while holding your book with your other hand. Focused completely on your reading you only looked up when you heard noises - and cursing - in the hallway.

You put your reading down and softly lifted the dog‘s head from your lap to get up. As you walked in the hallway you saw the expected scene: Astarion completely drenched, hair dripping and cursing like a sailor.

„Gods, I should have listened to you concerning the weather - you were right“, Astarion spat and made and disgusted face. „I‘d say I am right more times than you would like to admit, my love“, you answered with a chuckle and grabbed the towels you had prepared but were startled when you realised there was something more.

The vampire seemed to have something inside his doublet jacket he had obviously tried to keep dry.

„What is it you have there, Astarion?“, you asked curiously and drew your brows together - somehow you were sure that it wasn‘t just books or a precious bottle of „a fullbodied red“ that he was carrying.

The vampire ignored your question. His face lit up when he saw that you were holding some towels: „Oh, good thinking, my sweet, we could really use something to soak up all the godsdamned rain.“ „We?“, you replied confusedly and helplessly held up the towels.

Astarion carefully opened up his doublet and revealed a small furry creature. A small white kitten that was just as drenched as Astarion and desperately tried to cling to the vampire‘s chest: small, scared, miserably shaking and meowing.

„Oh no, who‘s this poor little thing?“, you cooed immediately and opened up your arms with one of the towels opened up so you might wrap the small kitten in it.

„Really? That‘s how you treat a cat you‘ve just met when I am here - your cherished soulmate - just as wet and miserable?“, Astarion complained. „For being so miserable you have an awful lot of breath to waste, my friend.“ Astarion huffed in protest. „Also you are not probably only a few weeks old and loudly meowing for help“, you continued and carefully took the kitten from Astarion who just as carefully handed the tiny little thing to you.

„Oh, I could meow if that‘s what would help further my case with you“, Astarion pouted while you cautiously dried off the kitten.

When the vampire just stood in front of you and said nothing while still dripping all over your hardwood floors you looked back up. „Oh uh, there‘s another towel back there, my love, if you want to dry yourself“, you said and then went back to cradling your small new friend.

Astarion sighed dramatically and walked past you to grab the promised towel. „I already get the feeling, this was a mistake. Your heart so eagerly conquered by a cute little stray you just took in“, he proclaimed theatrically, the back of one of his hands placed on his forehead.

„Hmm, says the cute little stray that I took in and that conquered my heart“, you replied matter-of-fact, not taking your eyes of the small animal and started to walk towards the living room and the burning fire there in the fireplace.

As you passed Astarion who was still trying to get his hair dry you threw your vampire a sideglance though; just to make sure he‘d caught that. And, oh, he had. He smirked and winked at you, having heard exactly what he wanted from you.

You sat down in front of the fireplace. Scratch was immediately up and wagging his tail, smelling the newcomer. “You be nice and keep your distance, Scratch”, you warned the dog. “I guess our new friend is already scared out of their mind!” And so the stray layed down again, his head on the ground between his paws, looking up at you with puppy eyes. His tail was still lazily wagging in excitement.

The kitten was slowly stopping shuddering with the warmth of the fire starting to dry her fur, but she wouldn’t stop meowing. Astarion came over to you after some time after he had put on some dry clothes. “I guess she doesn’t want to be held by me. Will you hold her? I’m going to look for something we can feed her in the kitchen”, you explained immediately after the vampire had sat down on his knees in front of you. You cautiously handed over the towel with the kitten to the stunned elf who started to huff in protest: “No, Tav, please you are the one good with animals…” “You brought the small cat here…” “Yes, but only because-“ You were already out the door and halfway to the kitchen. You searched your brain for what you knew about what you could feed a cat that was still so small. Tomorrow you would have to go out and find proper nutrition for the poor small thing.

You rummaged through your cabinets and finally mixed together some milk, water, yogurt and eggs – at least for tonight that would hopefully suffice. In one bowl you had your improvised kitten food and in another you filled some water. Then you went back to the living room. Astarion had donned the towel and was holding the kitten against his chest where it had calmed down. But she still had her claws borrowed in Astarion’s doublet and apparently they went right through the cloth judging by the vampire’s grimace.

“Watch out, she got you, tiger”, you joked as you kneeled down in front of him with the two bowls in hand. Scratch was up again too and sniffed curiously at the mixture for the kitten. But it was seemingly not much to his liking as he laid down again quickly.

“Should I set her down so she can feed and drink?”, Astarion asked you. He really seemed a bit overwhelmed with trying to care for the small furry thing. As she clawed at him again a soft “oww” left his lips. “We can at least try but we should pay attention Scratch doesn’t get too close. He would probably be a bit much for our newcomer”, you said and looked at the dog tentatively. But Scratch seemed to have taken the hint and had laid down a bit further and had just started to snooze peacefully.

Astarion slowly and carefully lifted the kitten from his chest, having to remove a claw or two with his fingers. He sighed as he looked down and saw some loosened threads in the embroidery: “I’m going to have to patch that up later.” Then he sat the small one down in front of the bowls. But the vampire did not let go f the small animal before he let one finger caressingly run over the creature’s head and down it’s back. He almost seemed scared that it would run off. But the kitten did not. If anything, she seemed to even enjoy the vampire’s pets.

“She’s so weird. Animals usually don’t feel very comfortable around me – you know, the whole vampirism thing… They feel it”, Astarion said absent-mindedly while he watched the cat slowly check out the two bowls. His red eyes were still observing her, a small warm smile was playing on his lips. Your own heart swelled with affection seeing how much he cared for this small being.

“Where did you find her?”, you asked. The vampire reached out to the kitten again, softly stroking her why she drank a little water. The small blue eyes were wandering around the surroundings – cautiously. But she still moved up her head to get more of the vampire’s pets. “I guess she likes you”, you said with a smile and kept your eyes on her before the Astarion could answer your previous question. “Trust me to get someone to purr”, he smirked. “Eww Astarion, not the time”, you moaned. You only received a chuckle and a smirk in response.

“I heard some meowing while everyone was scurrying from the rain in a small alley. I thought I was imagining it at first but there she was, a small little kitten, sitting alone in a small basket. It was completely drenched and it didn’t look like its mother was still around. Maybe she was the runt of the litter. I… just couldn't leave her there, all alone and cold, in the dark”, Astarion explained, his eyes miles away as he remembered the situation. But you could quickly see that that wasn’t the only thing. It was apparent why he felt for the lost little creature.

“You have a big heart, Astarion”, you told him sincerely which made his gaze flick to yours. But his eyes immediately left yours again. He surely didn’t believe what you said himself. At least not yet. That was okay though, you would tell him again and again until he didn’t doubt himself anymore.

The kitten meanwhile was trying to feed from the mixture you had concocted but it seemed she was only really getting the stuff on her adorable little face.

Astarion kept observing her a little bit more, cocking his head. Then he shook his head and softly grabbed the small creature again. “It’s not going to work like this, little one, if you only keep rubbing your face in your food”, he said affectionately as he made to hold her with one hand. With the other he took some of the mixture with one of his fingers and then held it to the kitten’s snout.

And surely, after a few seconds she licked it off the vampire’s fingers. A big smile crept onto your face and your heart grew in size while you watched the scene. Scratch also had slowly come back and was pushing his nose under your arm so you would let him rest his head on your lap again. You allowed it and kept watching how Astarion slowly fed the kitten. She’d quickly grown more eagerly and had started using her teeth too.

“Oww, will you stop biting me, you mean little thing”, Astarion exclaimed and shook his hand. “Serves you right, now you know how it feels”, you immediately threw in. The pale elf threw you a glance, saying “are you even serious”, but he kept allowing the cat to feed of his fingers until she seemed sated and her eyes grew heavy.

The vampire grabbed the towel that still laid next to him and lightly rubbed the mess of the kitten’s face. You offered Astarion the blanket from before to make an improvised bed for the small one on which he placed the cat carefully so she could get some rest.

“She’ll need a name if we’re going to keep her”, you said as you both watched the fur ball breathe softly. “Well, we already have a dog called Scratch, maybe we can call her Bite”, Astarion replied with a grin. You made a face at him and left the topic for the time being.

“What a fine assortment of strays we are, don’t you think, my love?”, Astarion asked then and looked at you with warmth in his eyes. You leaned over and gave him a kiss. “Fine, yes”, you answered as you made to lay down and put your head into Astarion’s lap. “But we’re not strays anymore, we’re home now”, you said with a smile and looked up at your soulmate. The vampire let his hands cup your cheeks and ran his thumbs over them lovingly: “And how sweet it is being home with you, my heart.”

Bonus: Enjoy this sweet little creature stare directly into your soul!

#astarion #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #fanfiction #baldur's gate iii #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x reader #astarion x you #poro writes #kittens!

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mrsbarnesblog · 11 months

Text

sandcastles

masterlist ko-fi ao3

CEO! Husband! Bucky Barnes x Wife! Reader

Summary: Bucky is always working overtime, but when his best girls really need him, he leaves everything behind just to make you happy.

Words count: 1.6k

Warnings: modern setting, CEO Bucky, they have a daughter, fluff, real love

Author’s note: this one was inspired by Sebastian’s appearance in Paris. he really gave me a heart attack with that look❤️‍🔥

Bucky Barnes was a busy man. Running a multi-million-dollar company wasn’t the easiest thing, but something that he cared more about than this job was his family. His beautiful wife and daughter.

You always loved and appreciated the attention, support, and endless love that your husband gave, even when you just started dating eight years ago. As soon as you met, it took some time for both of you to finally admit your feelings, but when you got together, it was perfect. You’ve never felt that way in your life before. When you were younger, everyone told you that you wouldn’t be able to find a person because of your high standards, but when you started dating James Buchanan Barnes, you knew that it was forever.

A beautiful, respectful, and caring man who would do anything for you.

For the past two months, he has been more distant. His company was getting bigger; he had too many meetings, and too many new things required his whole attention. You understood it; of course you did. But you would be lying if you said that you didn’t miss him. Your daughter felt it too. She was totally daddy’s girl, so being away from him for too long upset her, even though she was trying to be tough and careless, just like her dad when he was working.

You talked to her about her dad’s work, and she was a smart girl for a 3-year-old. She understood that he has a lot to do right now and that he still loves her more than anything in this world.

Today he returned home only after 2 am., you heard that he went to take a shower in a different room, probably not to wake you up. But you were too eager to spend as much time with him as possible, even if it was when he was falling asleep.

Bucky came into the room quietly. As soon as he got under the blanket, his warm and strong arms wrapped around you. He pulled you closer to him, burying his nose into your neck.

"I’m sorry, doll. Again." He took a deep breath, enjoying your scent, which he missed so much. "I love you."

"That’s okay, baby." You moved even closer to him, burying your fingers into his wet hair, and left a kiss on his temple. "I love you too. Now take some rest."

You hadn't even started to fall asleep when you heard a weird noise outside your bedroom, and then the door slightly opened.

"Daddy? Mommy?" A little voice came through the silence of the room. "Are you asleep?" Your daughter suddenly sobbed, and you and Bucky immediately sat on the bed, reaching for the nightstand lamps.

"Hey, angel, what happened? Come here." Bucky’s voice was very soft and gentle, as always when he talked to your daughter. She came closer to the bed, and Bucky picked her up, putting her on his lap. She was tightly holding her favorite white wolf, which you gifted Bucky as a joke because of his nickname at work. Your daughter's eyes were a little bit red, her hair messy, and her cheeks wet with tears. You moved closer to them, gently rubbing her face.

"What’s going on? You saw a bad dream?" You quietly asked, but she just shook her head.

"I— I—" She was obviously too upset to put her words together, so Bucky started to rub her back, whispering a quiet "sh-h".

"I— miss you, daddy." As soon as these words left her mouth, you and Bucky froze, and she started crying even harder. "I don’t s-see you, and me and mom—mommy are always alone."

Bucky looked you in the eyes, and you saw that his own were full of tears. The last thing he wanted to do was upset either of you. He felt that his heart was ripping apart. You made your daughter cry, you idiot. Your wife deserves better.

You just put your hand on his shoulder and squeezed, already knowing where his mind went. He always wanted to give his family everything, and the fact that he put work above his two favorite people in the world made him sick.

"Angel, hey, baby, look at me." Bucky turned back to your daughter, grabbing her little face with his hands and gently wiping away her tears. "I promise that the day after tomorrow we will go somewhere. Only mommy, you, and me, okay?"

"But—but you’re working."

"I know, angel. But I didn't want to make you feel lonely or to stay away for too long from your mom." He grabbed your hand and brought it to his mouth to leave a kiss. "We will go wherever you want to. Maybe stay there for the week. You would like that?" He smiled at your daughter, and she happily giggled, wrapping herself around Bucky’s neck. "I love you. Both of you. You two are my whole life, and I'll do anything to make you happy."

You softly smiled at him, leaning in to leave a quick kiss on his lips.

Your daughter put away her white wolf and opened her other arm, wanting you to join her and Bucky in a hug.

That night she stayed in your bed because she almost passed out in Bucky’s arms but still held onto you both too tightly. The three of you happily curled under the blanket, with your daughter in between. Bucky knew that it was time for him to finally make the right decision. To choose his family.

As Bucky promised, one day later your little family was on a vacation where no one could disturb you. He left Steve, Sam, and Natasha, his closest and oldest friends, in charge of everything, canceled all the meetings, and took you and your daughter on the private jet that brought you here. One of the most beautiful places you’ve ever been.

It was quiet. No strangers, no annoying noise, no worries. Just the three of you on the beach with a perfect little house and warm, crystal-clear water.

You were wearing a light flowy dress, and Bucky, finally free from those annoying suits, chose trousers with a white tank top and shirt on top of it.

You two were sitting under the sunset on a blanket with food and a bottle of wine, while your daughter was playing near the water with sand. It was such an amazing evening; just everything was perfect, and as you were watching your smiling husband, you felt that you had fallen in love once again.

"You keep staring at me, doll, You ‘kay?" He finally turned his face to you, and you couldn't hold your wide smile, which he immediately returned.

"I’m okay. It’s just… everything is perfect here—the beach, the house, you two here." You covered your eyes with your hand because of the setting sun. "You know, you’ve been here for a couple of hours, but you look much better. Your skin is glowing, you’re happy, and, god, that hair bun looks really hot." Bucky’s smile grew wilder because of your words.

He grabbed you in bridal style and set you across his lap, wrapping his hands around your waist. You slightly screamed, not being ready for such movements, but then happily melted into your husband's touch.

"So you think that I look hot?" A cheesy grin crossed his face, and you playfully rolled your eyes.

"Do you think I would’ve married you if I thought otherwise, James?" You arched an eyebrow at him. Your hands found the perfect place under Bucky’s blue shirt by themselves. God, it's been too long since you spent good time together alone.

"What do you think about the idea that when we get home, we send our daughter to visit her amazing grandparents, so we could be completely alone for a couple of days?" He said it as if he was reading your mind, so you just silently nodded. "Doll, you’re too beautiful for this damn world; I can’t even understand how I was able to be far away from you for that long. I missed you so much, baby." Bucky’s hands slipped lower on your hips, while his lips were leaving sweet kisses on the side of your neck.

"Not here, Buck; we’re not alone, remember?" You nodded back at your daughter, who was honestly more interested in building sandcastles.

"Of course. Just wanted to say that I’m so sorry for my absence. I got so involved in work that I didn’t even notice that you too were hurt. I’ve never wanted to do that. I’m sorry. And I love you. So fucking much." Bucky connected your foreheads and put his right hand on your cheek.

"Don’t be sorry. I know that you want better for us and that you want to do everything right. It’s okay to make mistakes sometimes. You know, you are such a great dad because your daughter’s tears made you leave everything and spend time with us. And I’m forever thankful for this." You smiled, holding his stubbled face in your hands. "I love you, James."

You two connected with a kiss. It wasn’t too rough or desperate. It was just pure love and adoration for one another. Bucky was slowly moving his lips, feeling the need for your taste, your smell, and your touch. Your little bubble didn’t last too long, though, not after your daughter finally wanted your attention.

"Mommy! Daddy!" You pulled away from the kiss, looking back at your daughter, who was now all in the sand. "Do you want to help me build a castle?"

You looked at Bucky, who had the same smile on his face.

"Of course, angel. What do you need from us?"

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #marvel #james buchanan barnes

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aris-ink · 2 years

Note

sub yn dry humps her step daddy joon while watching a movie trying to keep quiet

I have nothing to say except once again: I am sorry lmao

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: forbidden romance, step!father au

warnings: cheating, manipulation, pseudo incest, corruption kink, dry humping, slight age gap, daddy kink, dirty talk

He always said angels like you didn't belong in heaven; they belonged in daddy's lap. His wedding ring was nothing but proof of his conquest, the sacrifices he had to make in order to get to you. It took more patience than he thought he was capable of devoting to a cause, but every single second was worth seeing you fall - straight into his open arms.

"Quiet, baby," he whispered, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. "You don't want your mother to wake up, do you?"

He could feel you quiver against him at the question, shame making your breath hitch. And yet there was not enough of it to stop the grinding of your hips, and Namjoon didn't think he's ever been harder. So many nights he dreamed of having you just like this, bouncing you up and down in his lap and making you call him daddy.

It turned out he didn't have to make you do anything.

"Yeah," he groaned quietly. "Just like that."

You rubbed up against his cock like a good girl, your cunt so deliciously wet his trousers were stained.

"Keep going for daddy."

You tightened your arms around his neck, moaning into his ear. The sound shot straight to his dick, precum already leaking from the swollen tip. He wanted nothing more than to put it inside you and fuck you stupid, destroying the rest of your inhibitions and halo in the process.

Angels like you didn't need halos; they needed fetters. And like any good man, Namjoon had his rosary blessed before luring you in and making it into a leash for you. He knew exactly what to do and what to say to tear down your morals. He had years of experience ahead of you, and he didnt care about the consequences as long as you kept rubbing up against his cock like that.

The movie you've been watching became nothing more than background noise, assissting you in hiding some of the depravity that was going on under the blanket. His wife was all the way upstairs, blissfully unaware of it all. Still, better safe than sorry; he had yet to feel all of you. He had yet to bury himself inside you. And this game could last so much longer with no interruptions in the way. He didn't think he could be responsible for his actions if you got caught and tried to cut him out of your life because of some semblance of guilt stirring in your soul.

Namjoon knew better than to celebrate catching an angel before clipping their wings. You still needed a little time.

He groaned into your neck, his hand gripping and kneading the soft flesh of your ass. It was not enough to feel like you this. All the fabric in the way was robbing him off too many sensations he craved, and he craved endlessly when it came to you.

He lifted his head and searched your eyes, placing both of his hands on your hips, calculating his next move.

His tongue parted your lips before he could really decide, his kiss deep and slow and nasty. These were the kind of kisses that daddy only saved for you, he said, for his good girl whom he loved with every inch of his being.

And every inch of his being throbbed with lust as you kissed him back.

He pulled away to peek in between your bodies, then back into your eyes again, shining and so beautifully hazy with the need that reflected his. If eyes were the windows to the soul, his image was forever imprinted on yours.

"Baby," he breathed quietly, his fingers already working on unzipping his pants. "Let me feel you."

Your thighs clenched around him, but your head snapped up to the dark corridor on the side in alarm.

"But what if-"

He pulled your head down to his and kissed you again, not interested in hearing the rest of the sentence. If anything, he was quite offended you could still think straight, but Namjoon was a lenient father, and a forgiving one at that.

With one hand he reached inside his briefs and took his cock out, aching and stiff all for you. A sigh fled his lips, relief mingling with greed.

"Up, baby," he mumbled. "Come on. Up."

With a little hesitation, you lifted your hips, your grip on his shoulders hard. His fingers reached for your panties, his cock twitching when he felt the soaked cotton. He carefully pulled them aside, resisting the urge to touch you, his stomach twisted too tightly to handle any teasing.

"Now be a good girl and take a seat, baby."

He held his cock down for you, hypnotized by the way you began to lower yourself onto it, every second stretching into eternity. His back arched when he felt the heat of your cunt finally slide along its length, coating it with your wetness.

That was all it took to get you back into your rhythm, grinding back and forth against him and moaning into his ear. It felt too good; you felt too good to be true.

"Mm, shit, isn't this much- ah- much fucking better, angel?"

You whined in response, and his eyes almost rolled back, the heat tingling on his skin becoming too much. He wanted to rip that damn blanket off you and throw it to the ground, watch your pussy grind against his dick and come. But if it gave you a sense of security and pushed you to hump him faster, who was he to take that away?

"F-fuck, you're dripping all over me," he groaned. His hand found its way to your chest, thumb rubbing your nipple through your shirt. "Who made you this wet, huh?"

You knew better than not to answer him by now, though your reply still came out in an adorable stutter.

"Y-you, d-daddy, oh-"

Namjoon groaned again, low and guttural. He was so close. The thought of his cum making your little cunt even messier and wetter than it already was made his jaw and his balls clench.

"That's right, angel," he nodded, getting more desperate, reaching to squeeze and touch whatever parts of you he could access. "So be a good girl and come all over daddy's cock, yeah?"

He pushed your ass into his lap harder, your moans growing too loud in the stillness of the house.

"Quiet, be fucking quiet," he gritted. "Oh, fuck-"

Instinctively, his hand shot up to your mouth, two fingers forcing their way inside. You accepted them eagerly, without much thought, sucking and twirling your tongue. It was enough to muffle the sound of you moaning; but the feeling of that tight, wet heat, and the sight of your pretty lips stuffed full had him coming on the spot. His cock twitched under your cunt, releasing hot ropes of cum, his back arching against the couch. He could feel a gush of your own release flood him as you whimpered, digging your nails into his shoulders.

"Oh fuck," he cursed, voice breathy and strained. "Yeaaah. Fuck."

He didn't realize his eyes fell shut until he opened them, greeted by a sight that made his stomach jump. You looked so pretty and fucked out, drool leaking from your still stuffed mouth.

Gently, Namjoon slipped his fingers out of it, allowing you to collapse into his embrace. He wrapped an arm around you, his eyes stuck on the spit shining on his digits, sticking to his wedding ring.

You were fucking perfect. So worth this ridiculous show he had to put on every day of his life.

Although he would be lying if he said that he wasn't beginning to fucking resent having to go back to your mother's bed at the end of every goddamn day.

"Gimmie a goodnight kiss," he murmured.

He would have liked to reward you for what has undeniably been the best orgasm of his life, but he was so tired; and there was still so much time to try new things tomorrow. The very thought made his cock stir.

It looked like you were exhausted as well, barely lifting your head to give him a small peck on the cheek.

Namjoon chuckled.

You were fucking perfect. Just a little longer and he could spoil you with love and gifts and all the attention that he had to offer.

Until then, his wedding ring stayed on.

#back at it again with the religious allegories #adjhffshsjdhsfhd #namjoon x reader #yandere bts #bts x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts reactions

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bellysoupset · 5 months

Text

Part 2 of Leo's birthday - Jonah's turn.

This was a request from🧋anon!

---------------

Leo was cute when he slept and Jonah was sure this was an objective opinion and not just because he was head over heels in love with the guy.

He was sprawled on the bed, occupying most of it and snoring softly, shirtless and having already kicked away most of the blankets. Despite the terrible ending of their night, Jon was still counting that as a good birthday. Sure, Leo had puked on Wendy’s shoes and then again on the kitchen sink as soon as they got home, but afterwards he had climbed into bed with Jonah, complaining about a bellyache, and had melted like a golden retriever pup on his lap, dozing off within minutes of getting the belly rub.

That should still count as a good birthday, right?

“Baby,” Jonah crawled on the bed, freshly showered and ready to head in for work, “Leo. Wake up, you’re going to be late for work,” he shook his fiance’s shoulder, “Leo.”

He’d probably end up being late himself at this rate. Leo groaned and swatted his hand away, making Jonah scoff.

“I’m heading to work,” he whispered, brushing Leo’s hair away from his face, “and I’m gonna set your phone’s alarm. Thirty more minutes, then you have to get up.”

“Uhhrgh,” was Leo’s response and Jonah rolled his eyes, doing as he had promised and leaving the bedroom. He had spent too much time in the shower and there wouldn’t be any time to make himself food, but the cupcakes Leo had brought over from work were still in the fridge.

Figuring his boyfriend certainly wouldn’t want them after puking due to too much food last night, Jonah quickly polished off the two cupcakes on his way down to the garage.

As his day progressed, Jonah’s good humor started to tank. Everything felt like too much, his clothes clinging to him, the hospital noise that normally he could drown out without thinking, sounding much louder than usual.

Around 10 AM, he got a kid wailing down the ER and a distraught mom absolutely chewing the hell out of the paramedic who had just brought him in. Jonah cringed as he realized he’d have to be the one handling this. There were many reasons why he wanted to be a surgeon and one of them was no angry moms hovering about while he tried to do his job.

He’d take a heart attack any day over a broken leg.

Mom’s name was Louise and she was not impressed by Jonah’s bedside manner. Her son was named Charlie and he was struggling to keep up, the poor kid’s chin wobbling as he tried valiantly not to cry.

“Charlie, we’re going to-”

The dam broke and more tears came up. Jonah sighed, resisting the urge to fan himself. It was so warm. He planted a sympathetic hand on the kid’s shoulder, wiping away the tears. It was painful to watch, knowing the boy was only hurting himself more by sobbing like that.

“You’re okay,” Jonah cooed softly, as the nurse started up an IV, communicating silently with him. There was no way they could wait for oral painkillers to take effect before wheeling the kid to x-ray and that was considering he didn’t make himself sick with all the crying, “it’s just a little poke.”

“Hu-hurttssss,” the little boy continued to cry and Jonah rubbed his back, checking his watch. Five minutes for the morphine to kick in. Louise was patting her foot nervously on the ground, whole body shaking with anxiety.

“Ma’am, he’s in good hands,” Jonah explained, just to say something. His stomach was starting to slosh uncomfortably, “we’re waiting for the painkillers to kick in and then we’ll go to x-ray, you’re welcome to accompany-”

“Of course I’m going with him, are you crazy?” She scoffed at him, stepping closer and cooing over her son. Jonah resisted the urge to move away, as the kid wiped at his nose grossly on the back of his sleeve and slightly cuddled up to his side. He was getting heavy.

“There we go,” Jon lowered him against the pillow, “hurting less?”

The boy nodded, his face still all pink and wet with tears, “still hurts.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he grimaced, signing the kid’s record and jolting down his next instructions, “we can’t give you too much medicine, in case we need to do another procedure. As soon as the X-rays are done we’ll give you better meds,” Jonah smoothed the boy’s hair back gently, “we’re going to move your bed now, okay Charlie? Are you feeling alright?”

The kid sucked in a sob, but nodded and Jonah smiled at him, “nurse Marjorie is going to stay with you the whole time,” he gestured to the much older nurse, who was one of his favorite people in the hospital. She had more than 30 years of experience, was trained for surgeries and tough as nails. “Then as soon as you’re released from X-Ray I’m going to see you again, okay?”

“O-Okay…” The kid’s voice broke and Jonah squeezed his hand in a sympathetic manner, before allowing the technicians to wheel him away, his mother not sparing the doctor a second glance.

As soon as they were out of sight, Jonah allowed his smile to fade.

While the interaction had been brief — and Louise hadn’t actually shaped up to be a momzilla, just a regular worried mother — it had been long enough for his stomach to go from “a little off” to “full blown nausea”.

He felt a weird pressure travel up and Jonah quickly excused himself, power walking to the bathrooms, stripping his white coat as he rushed there so he wouldn’t be so recognizable as a doctor.

The bathroom, given it was near the ER, wasn’t empty. There were five stalls on each side, the middle of the room had a large slab of stone with a mirror and five sinks on each side of the mirror. No urinals, for which Jonah was very glad.

He rushed inside of a stall and brought his coat to his mouth, muffling a loud, thick burp. Even with the fabric in the way, it was still pretty loud and he was sure others had heard it. Whatever, this was a hospital, he tried to reassure himself, as yet another sickening burp rolled up.

Jonah let out a little moan and lowered the coat, head hanging in shame and nausea. He folded the coat over one arm, slightly palming his stomach under his button up shirt. It was warm to the touch and bloated and the small pressure of his hand on it caused another belch to rush up, this one too expected for him to muffle it.

It hurt his throat, the acidic sludge of his tummy rushing up with the burp, but he swallowed it down last second. Jonah pressed his forehead to the hard white plastic of the stall’s wall and breathed out slowly, he had to get his body in check. At least finish his ER hours.

Defeated and knowing he wouldn’t puke right at this moment, Jonah walked out of the stall to wash his face.

The next two hours went like a blur. He tried his best to focus on his patients, but was forcefully reminded by his stomach that it was still very upset every other minute. He had grabbed a plastic cup of water and was sipping on it in between patients, pushing down the thick sweet saliva that kept flooding his mouth.

Finally Claire came to relieve him, so he could go for lunch, and Jonah could’ve cried. Instead of heading down to the cafeteria or to the many restaurants that were around the hospital’s complex, he went to the doctor’s staff to lie down.

There was coming and going in the place, it was a change of shifts after all, and Jonah reached for his phone inside his locker. He grabbed it, then went to the back room where there were two bunker beds in case they needed to sleep.

One of the top ones was already occupied and Jonah put his phone on silent mode, then crawled on a bottom bed, curling up on his side and muffling another sick burp against the thin pillow.

He wrapped an arm around his stomach, bringing up his knees and squeezing his eyes as the pressure made his belly feel like it was full with boiling liquid.

There were texts from Leo and Jonah squinted at the screen, lowering the brightness and struggling to understand what his boyfriend was saying.

Leo: Gonna call in sick at work, still feeling pretty shitty. Don’t think I overdid it yesterday, just ate something off.

Leo: Good news! You’ll be happy to know the restaurant we went to didn't make me sick. I got food poisoning at the office :) When I get my hands on Sandy she’s done for.

Leo: Apparently they canceled everyone’s schedule, because everyone called in sick. Isn't that lovely? You bet your ass we’re gonna have a lecture on food handling and what not, can’t wait.

Leo: When are you coming home, my tummy hurts and I want cuddles 🥺🥺 JD is sick of me

Leo: Jon, did you eat the cupcakes in the fridge? Baby, pls text me back.

The string of texts started at 8 AM and ended just around 10 AM, with one missed call accompanying it. Jonah gagged as he realized he had eaten the poisoned stuff as well and he dropped his phone on the mattress, half sitting up on the bed and trying to figure if he was about to spew or not.

He was sweating. Jon undid his tie and opened the top buttons of his shirt, sitting fully up and cradling his stomach. The whole organ was snarling like crazy and he gulped down when the flipping of its contents made him gag, almost bringing up liquid.

“Fuck,” Jonah whispered, grabbing his phone, coat and tie and slipping out of the bedroom. He needed a bathroom, not a bedroom- His intestines cramped and Jon froze, shuddering at the sensation. He really needed a bathroom.

At least the doctor’s one was much more private. It still had stalls, but only two and the place was empty. Jonah dropped all his items to the ground, suddenly too restless and panicked to mind how gross that was. He wasn’t sure if he was going to shit his pants or puke.

His stomach let out an upset whine and then a rush of bubbles went south, making up his mind for him. His hands were shaking as they fumbled with his belt and fly and he could feel his tummy rumbling ominously against his touch.

He sat on the toilet, then wrapped his arms around his middle, gulping down nervously. The lights over his head felt like too much and he was sweating like hell.

The runs left him so dizzy he was forced to plant a hand on the stall’s wall in order not to fall off the toilet. Jonah didn’t even bother muffling the sick burping fit that followed, his head swimming.

Once he finally managed to get out of the bathroom, Jonah stared at his reflection angrily. He looked like hell. Sweat had glued down his tight curls to his temples and was beading over his forehead and mustache area, he looked gray, his lips pale…

He washed his face and hands vigorously, then took a gulp of tap water and breathed through the sensation of it settling in his stomach like a brick. Jonah checked his watch, then groaned out loud, there was no way he’d be able to last the remaining five hours he still had to go.

Wendy picked up on the third ring, sounding sleepy. She had the night shift today and Jonah felt bad about waking her up, but not so bad he considered not calling. He wanted to go home, his whole body was shaking.

“Yeah?” she yawned, “Jon?”

“Dee, can you cover for me? I don’t feel well,” he said, straight to the point. Another yawn.

“Please tell me Leo didn’t have a stomach bug. I can't get the flu again, I’m gonna cry,” Wendy groaned and he heard her moving around.

“No, food poisoning and I-” he turned his head, muffling a sick burp and gagging over the sink when it brought up some thick, extra sweet spit. Jonah took a steady breath, “I think I got it as well.”

“Fantastic,” Wendy deadpanned, “I can go in one hour, can you handle that long?”

He knew she only lived 10 minutes away from the hospital and that the 50 other minutes were probably to tell Vince goodbye, since he’d be driving back to Doverport. Jonah felt mildly annoyed at the fact she’d be making out with her boyfriend while he was dying, but he also knew she was already doing a gigantic favor by coming in five hours before she needed to.

“Yeah, I can handle one hour,” he sighed, clutching his stomach.

“Alright, I’ll be there,” she hung up without further ado and Jonah let out a sigh.

The thing was, he could clock out and then stay in the bathroom until Wendy arrived, but then it would mean his chart would show he had left five hours earlier and Jonah needed all the hours he could get. Whenever Wendy covered for him or he covered for her, they never clocked out.

So instead of being smart and staying in the bathroom, he forced himself to go sit in his office.

Normally he liked clinic office hours, but not today. Today he didn’t like anything.

Jonah was sitting there, with his head in his hands and considering the stupidity of his actions given how badly his stomach was churning and how he kept burping — thank god his door was shut —, when there was a knock.

He glanced at his watch. 30 more minutes, couldn’t be Wendy.

“Come-” just speaking increased his nausea tenfold and Jonah interrupted himself as he gagged, sliding the trashcan that was under his desk closer and–

The door opened, the person on the other side clearly not realizing he hadn’t finished his words. The little boy from before, now in crutches and with his leg on a cast, still looking like he was in pain and ready to cry, his mother right behind him…

“Fuck,” Jonah groaned, when his stomach gave up on him and he had no choice but to dive for the trashcan as a thick wave of vomit came up. He brought it up to his mouth, to shield his face from view, but still he heard over the rushing in his ears as the woman let out a shriek.

Humiliation only heightened his stomach ache and he coughed, bringing up another wave of overly sweet vomit. It tasted just like the chocolate cupcakes, except rotten. Jonah burped mid retch, feeling more than a little woozy and he fell from his chair, grabbing on the desk to keep from going down entirely.

A lot more noise now and then a hand was in the middle of his back, a female voice ushering his distraught patients out. He prayed the next wave of puke would drown him.

No such luck, his tummy squeezed again and Jonah let out a whimper as he was forced to burp and it brought up some more chunks of his poisoned breakfast. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime but was probably just a couple minutes, he stopped feeling like he was about to hurl and was left panting over the trashcan.

He was shaking like hell and his stomach was cramping, intestines as well. Everything felt sort of fuzzy around the edges.

“Jon?” Wendy’s voice was like a balm to his nerves and he nearly cried. Instead he let out a groan and pulled back from the trashcan, falling vaguely against her. He heard her let out a little huff as he weight rested on her, but her hand was cold and gentle as it came to cup his forehead.

“Killme, Wen,” he groaned, his words sticking together and she let out a sigh, rubbing his arm.

“Are you done?”

“For now,” Jonah nodded. He knew he was far from done, not only because of the food, but because he felt a new type of nausea mix into his belly. Anxiety, panic, “my patients-”

“It’s okay,” Wendy squeezed his arm, “don’t think about that. Claire took them out.”

“Fuck,” he turned his head and blinked, finally getting a hold of his bearings. They were sitting on the ground, practically under his desk. Wendy had her white coat on and she looked incredibly concerned, “you’re not gonna call me an idiot for not sitting in the doctor’s lounge until you arrived?”

Wendy shook her head, “you’re feeling too bad for me to tease you,” she stroked his cheek lightly and Jonah felt a knot in his throat. He nodded in agreement and leaned forward, planting his forehead to her shoulder, a weird position given Wendy was much shorter than he was.

“I wanna die,” he groaned and she rubbed his back.

“You’re okay, sweetheart,” she ushered him up, “I’ll get their details and you can send the mom an apology card and some fancy wine. It’s not the end of the world, I promise you.”

“Stewarts-” Jonah started to say, meaning his supervisor, who’d absolutely chew him out for this and Wendy glared at him, pushing him along the hallway.

“You couldn’t have known, it came out of nowhere,” she lied through her teeth, “right? You were feeling fine before.”

Jonah cringed, but nodded, buying in the lie, “yeah, I certainly didn’t feel gross for hours beforehand.”

“Exactly,” Wendy pushed him down the hallway, “I’m gonna drive you home, okay? And you’re gonna be a decent patient and drink loads of water and get your boy to do the same, because I don’t want to see any of you in my hospital later.”“Don’t call Leo my boy, that’s weird,” Jonah groaned, but he was feeling overwhelmingly fond of his best friend. He loved this woman so much.

#i dont want anyone yelling at me about how my medical scenario is innacurate in my little puke-porn ficlet #i dont care #sickfic #mywriting #jonah banks #part 2 out of 3 #🧋anon #emeto #emetophilia #food poisoning

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shadowthief78 · 1 year

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Lyney/Reader

Genshin spoilers under the cut, for 4.0 Fontaine Archon quests.

Containes unexpected kissing and the barest slightest tiniest slight yandere Lyney, might not be canon compliant bc I got stuck halfway through trying to do quest stuff and came to write this instead.

I thought I was in a bit of a dry spell but it turns out I just needed some catboy coded manipulation to get back in the swing of things. I think all three of them would be subtly manipulative like this and I love it. Hopefully I can write more of them soon :D

This came out a lot cuter than I pictured. I don't really think Lyney would be an overtly violent or threatening lover.

The first time Lyney kisses you is right after Crowell dies. Your eyes widen, still focused on Lynette's, while her brother presses his mouth against yours in a kiss decidedly not appropriate for someone the prime suspect in a murder trial. The basket of food you brough knocks awkwardly against your knees, tilting you forward at an uncomfortable angle.

The supervising garde coughs. Lyney releases you. You steady yourself against him.

"I brought you food. Freminet was worried you would get hungry," you say, uncovering the dishes. Lyney's little brother had practically thrown bowls at you while you struggled to fasten your cloak. "Some might be a little wet. It's pouring out there."

"Thank you," Lynette says, taking the basket. "I'm going to the dressing rooma to share."

"Sorry it's mostly leftovers," you say, watching her bow bob as she leaves.

Her exit leaves you and Lyney in the half-light of backstage, the spotlights casting eerie shadows on the props. The garde moves a few steps away.

Lyney seems to realize how stiffly you're holding yourself. "Sorry," he says, releasing your elbow. "Overwhelmed, I guess. Crowell..."

You knew Crowell—were the one to reccommend him for the job, in fact. You glance at the curtain covering everything.

"Freminet's worried about you. Says there's too many visitors for him to handle."

Lyney sighs. "Poor Freminet. He didn't have anything to do with this. I feel terrible about it all, I'm not there to support him..." He catches sight of you again and gasps. "Oh, archons, what am I doing? You're soaked through and through. I was so busy worrying about this I completely forgot my manners. I'll find you a change of clothes somewhere."

Someone in the dressing room offers you a blanket and a cup of hot chocolate. Lyney continues hovering at your side, fussing. "I don't deserve you," he says, once his troupe has largely wandered off to rest. It's closer to dawn than sunset and you've mostly dried off. He sits at the edge of the pile of cushions you're propped up on, fiddling with his shoelace.

"I haven't done anything," you mutter, eyelids itching to close.

"That's not true," he says. "You keep the house in order, take care of Freminet, patch up all our costumes, organize the troupe, bring us food..." He trails off looking at you. "The kiss."

You look away. "Overwhelmed?"

He makes a frustrated noise. "Yes, but- Ah," he sighs, collapsing backwards closer to you. "I really did mean it. I just... probably should have waited for a better time. I hoped, after today's show, that, you know..." He dissolves into groans again. "Freminet adores you and so does Lynette. After this is all over, do you think maybe we could perhaps, ah, continue that?"

You see his face pressed to the cushions, rough fabric against his smooth cheek. He looks at you softly, like a dream, poised like a cat about to pounce.

Him. Lynette. Freminet. They all want to catch you somehow.

#puffin says stuff #lyney #genshin impact #x reader #fanfiction #lyney x reader

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inmyicyworld · 1 year

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Sandcastles

CEO Husband Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky is always working overtime, but when his best girls really need him, he leaves everything behind just to make you happy.

Words count: 1.6k

Warnings: fluff, dad and husband Bucky, like one curse word.

Author’s note: just a cute little drabble. obviously, Sebastian’s pictures from Paris inspired me, so enjoy <3

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi