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binniesthighs · 4 years

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two tails | the series prologue | reader x minho

in which a chance encounter with your neighbor’s fluffy cat buds a romance when you least expected it

Part One coming early January

if ya would like to be on the taglist for when this series starts, send me an ask ♡

Pairing: self insert, female reader x lee minho

Genre: a lil bit of everything!

Tags: neighbors au, catowner!minho, catowner!reader, skz side characters, slow burn, gradual romance, neighbors to lovers, friends to lovers

Word/part count: tbd!

Requested: by a lovely anon!

Chapters now available!

Start here ➡️ ONE

[open me for the prologue]

The tabby cat yawned, stretching out it’s little white paws in front of itself. You would have thought that the poor little lost thing would have been much more panicked, but this cat was rather the opposite. It’s golden-brown eyes dilated while it studied you.

“What am I going to do with you...” The cat’s fur was cloud-like between your fingers. “Clearly someone takes care of you...you’re not gonna tell me who?”

The cat stared at you blankly and unamused.

“Of course you can’t...you’re a cat...what am I saying.”

The cat rubbed it’s orange cheek into the side of your hand, a thankful little sign of trust.

“Nothing scares you, huh?”

As if saying, yes, the cat’s scratchy tongue licked at it’s chops.

“Hungry? I’ve got just the thing for you.”

The aged wood flooring of your duplex groaned under your feet while you patted your way to your kitchen. The tiny modest place flooded with the late-morning light. Streams of light brushed past the windows lined with your garden’s menagerie of budding flowers. In her usual spot on the windowsill was your calico, Bomi. Her sleeping green eyes peeked at you lazily when you entered.

“You’re not gonna say hi to our new friend, Bo?”

Temperamental as always, Bomi chose when she wanted to recognize your voice.

“Hope you don’t mind that I’m borrowing some of your food for then.” You scooped out some of Bomi’s kibble--a sound which made her twitch her ears. “I’ll leave you to your nap, princess Bomi.”

Even flattery didn’t phase that cat.

Once you had returned, the tabby had jumped up onto the edge of a chair overlooking your front lawn. The cat was unmoving and sphinx-like as it watched the cars roll past.

“Here’s some food. If you want it.”

The cat twisted it’s head back as if to say thank you.

“You’re alright, Cat. Maybe I should keep ya!” You scratched behind it’s ears eliciting little purrs. “No...I shouldn’t do that. Someone’s probably looking for you right now.”

Across the room, your TV hummed with the cooking show you had been watching before your walk.

“Well...I’ll leave you to it then. I’ll just be...over there.”

You slid back onto your couch, cuddling yourself up as tightly as you could into one of the sides. It was no wonder that you adored cats as much as you did when you were so similar to them. On your most peaceful days, there was nothing more that you enjoyed than reading or writing out in your garden, soaking up the sun, or your quiet nights with open windows, cicadas singing and fireflies dancing to their tune while you would wash your dishes.

Never had you thought that talking to Bomi was strange. She was your only companion, even if she would begrudgingly accept your love. You couldn’t picture your quiet little life without her.

The tabby loafed it’s body on the upholstery and you laid yourself down too. The constant droning of the chef on TV was the perfect lullaby to your sleepy eyes...

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

Ding dong!

“Hello?” His muffled voice seeped through your front door.

You shot awake from your couch with a startled gasp, your socks had twisted themselves all around your feet making them look like little elf booties. Undoubtedly your hair had resembled a bird’s nest.

The tabby stared at you with wide eyes and chirped as you approached the door. For a couple moments you fumbled with the obscene amount of keychains on your keys--many of them cat themed.

“Can-can I help you?” You tried your best to rub the nap out of your eyes and patted down the knots in your hair.

“Oh. Ahem Hi, I’m-uh, I live a couple houses down, I wanted to see if you had seen a cat around, maybe in your yard, it’s a tabby, they’ve got some white on their belly and their face...”

There were other words that had escaped out of his mouth, but those easily slipped past you. What was startling was how he was really...pretty. You had never really seen someone quite like him that made you feel as such. There was something about him too that seemed a little cat-like: perhaps it was his chocolate eyes, or bouncy coca-colored hair. He wore silver wire glasses that framed his face perfectly. There was a cardigan draped around his elegant figure, and it pooled at his hands into little paws.

“...have you seen them? I’m sorry to bother you.” He pushed his glasses up his nose bridge.

“Oh! Sorry, yeah, I’ve--”

The tabby yowled out, suddenly and proudly making its presence known.

“Doongie!” The boy gasped out, and promptly scooped the cat up while it’s legs dangled. “Thank you so, so much.”

“It’s no worry at all, I have a cat of my own, so it was no issue. I gave them some of my cat’s food as well.”

“Oh really?” His smile was just as pleasant and calming as you could have expected. “What kind? And thank you.”

“Calico. I think that she hates me most days but what would I do without her, you know?”

“Ahhh. That’s the life of a cat owner.”

You chuckled out a bit. “Hm. Yeah, it is.”

His face lit with realization. “Sorry! I didn’t introduce myself, I’m all over the place—I’m Minho. Lee Minho, from 2503.”

“I don’t think that I’ve seen you around this neighborhood before?” You leaned into the doorframe. “Then again...I don’t get out of my house all that much...” You laughed aloud a little at yourself.

“Me either,” He joined you. “Actually, I just moved back in with my mom, one thing after the other happens and living in the city doesn’t stack up too well...commuting is what works best for me now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry...”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind. It’s a lot nicer than I realized coming back home after being away for so long. She helps me with my cats as well. I have three.”

“Three?!”

He warmly laughed. “It’s kind of a lot isn’t it? For one person?”

“No, no! If I could have more cats I would, but...the one I’ve got already is a bit of a handful sometimes.”

“Maybe you could meet them one day...if you’d like?”

Minho’s cat Doongie had settled into his arms cozily, tail swinging and a paw slung over his arm.

“...Sure! But, I-I don’t want to impose--”

“--Please, my mother would love for me to invite someone over. She already thinks I’m a recluse.”

You cracked out a hard “HA” and Minho’s face flushed as pink as the petals from your yard’s cherry blossom tree.

“Oh! Sorry, sorry, I’m not laughing at you, it’s just that my mother thinks the exact same about me.”

Minho nervously joined in your laughter. “Good to know I’m not alone.”

Between both of you and the door frame, an awkward silence pervaded the air.

“I-uh, should get going...but--you didn’t tell me your name?” Minho swayed his cat gently in his arms.

“It’s Y/n.”

“Ah...Y/n. I’ll...be seeing you around then?”

“See you around.” You smiled to him as he clumsily attempted to walk backwards off your front porch.

You closed the door after him, facing the tiny mirror nearby. You looked an utter mess, baggy eyes and hair looking as if it had survived a windstorm. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit at yourself.

meow?

Bomi had sauntered up to you, then twisted between your legs.

“Sorry Bo, guess we don’t get to keep the cat.”

Bomi licked at the hair on her leg, going right back to ignoring you.

“I...wouldn’t mind seeing them again.”

199 notes · View notes

duskholland · 4 years

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Breaking Windows (Peter Parker)

Summary: You’re Thor’s daughter and may have a teeny tiny crush on your classmate and fellow Avenger, Peter Parker.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Action and fluff! There’s a fight scene and a minor injury, but it’s nothing too gruesome. Also like one swear word? Otherwise just fluff.

A/N: This is my first piece of writing in...a year and a half? Ish? I’m nervous to post it but I really like how it turned out! It was requested and I love the concept and had a great time writing it, so thank you anon! I hope you like it too :D

“Please, Y/N, I’m begging… There are ways to escape a building that don’t involve leaping from the fifty-third floor.”

You scoff loudly. “Peter, I can fly,” you remind him. You stretch your hands above your head and let out a muffled groan as your muscles tense and flex, the tension of the previous battle draining away as you walk into the Avengers compound, your companion following just behind.

“And?” Peter squeaks. You glance to your friend and feel a little bad when you see the concern in his eyes. “You could still get hurt.” His eyes narrow. “Look- you still have glass in your hair!”

You bat clumsily at your head, hands scraping through your messy locks. “Got it?”

“Nope.”

You pause abruptly, irritation causing you to furrow your eyebrows. “Stupid glass,” you mutter. You’d already spent several minutes picking shards from your hair, and several hours more regretting your choice to dive through that window. Not that you’d ever admit that to Peter.

“Do you want me to get it?” Peter asks, voice gentle. He’s eyeing a spot just above your left temple.

You sigh, deflated and defeated. “Yeah, please.” You bow your head.

Peter shifts a little closer, and for the first time you become truly aware of the circumstances.

Now seventeen, Peter’s shoulders have filled out and he stands full and stocky, the worn reds and blues of his spidey suit clinging to the definition of his arms and chest. When you move your gaze up, you see ashy black lines clinging to his jaw, and a bit of soot nestled up against his ear. The wildness of his brown hair as it sticks up in all directions really adds to the whole just-escaped-from-battle look he has going on.

You smile quietly as you feel his fingers knock through your hair, and remain silently still as he works his magic.

Maybe you have a tiny crush on Peter. Maybe. But you’re both seniors at Midtown, and you’re both also superheroes who have to work together, so it’s complicated. Far too complicated.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t admire him.

“Got it,” Peter says. He’s part way through bringing his hands back from your hair when there’s a sudden burst of noise, and from around the corner comes two all-too-familiar figures.

“Oh- what do we have here?” You can practically hear the smirk in Tony Stark’s voice as he swaggers forward.

Peter quickly snatches his hands back, jumping away from you as if he’s just been caught doing something incredibly sinful.

“I told you,” Thor’s voice bellows. “Two young ones like these. Keep them together enough and… Well, I told you.” His eyes flick to you, a loose grin on his face.

“Shut up, dad,” you mutter. Embarrassment flames the apples of your cheeks as you scowl at Thor.

“Oi.” Tony and Thor are in front of you now, and Thor’s got his arms crossed. “I’m just saying.” You receive an affectionate scruff of your head from your father.

“No canoodling on official Avengers business,” Tony chimes in, voice lilted with tease. “Don’t tell me I’m going to have to start separating you both now.”

You groan, exasperated beyond belief. You’re tired, sore, and dirty from spending the last two hours fighting off New York’s newest threat, and now you’re dealing with this. “Goodbye,” you say, and grab Peter’s arm before he can complain. You drag him away from Thor and Tony and across to your room, slamming the door behind you as pointedly as possible. “They are so annoying!” You groan, resting your forehead against the cool wood.

“They call us immature.”

Your and Peter’s laughs mingle in the air, and you turn to meet his tired gaze. His cheeks are flushed and his lips a cherry red, and you find yourself momentarily losing your breath as you take in just how cute he is.

“I should go shower,” you say, after a moment of looking. Peter nods his head.

“Yeah, me too.” He scratches at his arm, looking down at his feet. “See you in class tomorrow?”

You nod, moving away from the door so he can shuffle past you. “Definitely.”

Peter’s hand rests on the doorknob for a moment of indecision, before he blurts- “No more spontaneous jumping out of windows, yeah? You’ll give me a heart attack.”

You grin. “But it makes my cape look cool!” You protest.

“I don’t care!” Peter’s laughing, but he’s still frowning. “You’re my partner- you- you have to be safe.”

You feel your heart melt. His eyes are round and soft and flooded with concern, and he’s staring at you bashfully. “I’ll be safe,” you promise. You’re starting to feel a little guilty now. “Besides, if ever I’m not safe, I’m pretty sure I know someone who’ll be near that can save me.”

Peter tilts his head to the side. “Who, Thor?”

“No, silly.” You reach out and push his shoulder, rolling your eyes. “You!”

His cheeks flame. “Oh…”

“Unless you don’t want to save me?” You tease, rocking back on your heels. He looks frazzled, and you can’t help but swoon slightly as he runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

“No, no. I’ll save you.” Peter finally twists the doorknob and steps aside, preparing to head out. He looks up to you, a mischievous grin on his face. “My life would be pretty boring if you weren’t around to keep it interesting.” He raises a hand in a friendly wave as he walks away. “See ya tomorrow!”

“Bye!”

You quickly shut your door and immediately press your back against the wood, sliding down until you’re resting on the floor with your knees pulled to your chest. You groan quietly, hands fisting your hair as you try to calm your racing heart.

“God damnit,” you mutter. You close your eyes and all you see is Peter and his stupidly cute lopsided smile floating behind your eyelids. You sigh, and open your eyes to instead stare up at the ceiling.

Maybe your crush is growing a little out of control.

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

It’s the following week when it happens again.

One moment you’re sat in maths class, mindlessly scrawling the answers to the pop quiz (turns out Midtown is a breeze compared to the education you got on Asgard), and the next the hairs on the back of your neck are standing on end as a cold feeling of dread sweeps through you. Your eyes dart up, finding Peter’s from two rows of desks away, and a moment later the both of you leave the room without a word.

“What is it?” You ask him, digging through your bag as the two of you walk quickly down the corridor of the school. Luckily no one’s around to gawk as you pull out your sword and quickly change out your jumper for your cape.

“Looks like it’s those Chitauri scrappers again.”

You’re at the end of the corridor now, and you peer out of the window to see Peter’s right: in the distance you recognise the same glowing purple light from the battle the week before. You eye the staircase to your right, and realise you’re on the fourth floor of the school.

“Race you?” You offer, hands already on the window sill. You jerk up the glass panes and feel the cool afternoon breeze rush onto you. The feeling of the wind on your skin is like no other - being the daughter of Thor, the God of Thunder, certainly has its perks.

Peter grabs your shoulder just before you’re ready to launch out into the city. He’s traded his clothes for his suit, but his face is still there, a deep worried line between his eyebrows, his mouth pursed with worry. “Be safe.”

His hand is on your shoulder, and he’s looking at you with such care and adoration that you just can’t help yourself. As if you’re two opposing magnets, suddenly his arms are around you and your mouth is on his, your lips connecting in a hot kiss. You melt into his body as you grab at his hair, his mouth feeling so good against yours. It feels like it lasts a blissful, wonderful infinity, but you know it’s only a few stolen seconds before you pull away. There’s a moment of silence, of you looking at him, and him looking at you, his head tilted a little to the side, and you know that a line in your friendship has been crossed. But is that such a bad thing?

“Last one there is a loser,” you say, after a moment. There’s a smile fixed to your face so strongly that you doubt you could drop it, even if you tried. You reach up and ruffle his hair before turning your back on him and launching yourself out of the window.

Wind rushes past your face as you soar across the city, happy laughter escaping your mouth. Your sword hangs off your belt as you do a few spins through the air, just because you can, and you have to concentrate extremely hard in order to calm down from your unbelievable high as you approach the dangerous scrappers. The last time you’d had a run in with them, they’d scarpered before you and Peter could apprehend them, taking with them several thousands of dollars worth of alien weapons. Today, you can’t afford to let them get away.

When you’re nearer the action zone, things pull into focus. It doesn’t look good. There are around twenty scrappers spread down the busy high street, but unlike last time, they are now equipped with the dangerous Chituari technology that they’d stolen from Tony’s lab. They have blasters of all shapes and sizes, and you can already see scorches on the side of buildings and rubble littering the streets. Though some of the Avenger team have already arrived, the civilians haven’t yet been cleared, and you feel your heart sink as you notice how near some of them are to the danger.

The communication device you’ve got shoved in your ear buzzes to life now you’re in the vicinity of the team, and it’s only a moment later that you get your instruction. “Y/N, clear the street with Peter. We’ve got this for now,” comes the stressed bark of Ironman. You mutter an affirmative agreement and quickly swoop down, landing on the street with a loud thump.

You begin scattering the crowd, using your sword to offer a barrier from any flying debris and laser beams that might harm the screaming people. After about a minute of your work, Peter shows up, swinging from between the towering buildings of the city before landing next to you. You hear him get similar instructions and look to him, flashing him a quick smile.

“I beat you,” you yell, voice rising above the noise. You continue to usher the civilians out of the street.

Peter scoffs, his voice static through your earpiece as he swings around, roping back the bricks and scaffolding that threaten to topple onto the street. “Barely,” he responds, breathless.

The both of you work together until the street is cleared and all that remains is around ten of the scrappers. They’ve made some considerable damage, even with the Avenger team slowly taking them down. You survey the scene before shooting up into the sky and stretching out your hands. Time to do some real work.

Closing your eyes, you concentrate for a moment on the sky, imagining the power seeping from the clouds into your hands, building, building, building, until…

With a crack of thunder, you blast a large pile of their weaponry with a lightning bolt, causing a few of the scrappers to fly through the air, crashing into the ground where they remain motionless. You hear a few whoops in your earpiece and smile, but only for a moment, because a second later, you’re being shot at by four remaining canons, their dangerous purple strikes skimming uncomfortably close to you.

“Shit,” you mutter, zipping away. They seem intent to pull you from the sky, and with each second, you feel the strikes getting nearer to your skin. As you’re forced to concentrate on dodging them, getting in only the occasional blast at the ground, you hear the static voice of Tony in your ear again.

“You alright being our live bait up there?” He asks. “We have a game plan. Distract them.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, pausing to curse as you feel a blast graze your side. “Just hurry.” They’re getting angry now, and you watch as the scrappers focus in on you, seemingly oblivious to the rest of your team on the ground who are slowly approaching them and picking off the weaker outer members.

You continue to pirouette in the sky, doing your best to be a distracting force. After a few minutes alone, you feel the air shift and look behind you to see you’ve been joined by your father. “I can do this by myself,” you say, not unkindly. You watch him shrug.

“Looked like fun up here. Finally some challenge.”

And you work back to back, combining your strength as Gods of the Sky to pinpoint the few remaining scrappers on the ground, just as the ground team swing into action. Before you know it, there’s only one guy left, and he’s glaring up at you with such piercing hatred in his eyes that you feel a little scared. He has one final shot with his canon before he’s webbed up by Peter, but much to your horror, the blinding purple light of his weapon pierces into your leg and you tumble from the sky, pain ricocheting through your body as you curse. Too blinded by agony, you wait for the inevitable collision with the dusty concrete, eyes screwed shut.

It never comes.

Instead, you feel chords of tight stringy material wrap around your body, and swing away from the ground. A moment later, you’re gently lowered to the road, and meet it with a soft oomph. You pry your eyes open and see layers of white sticky spider web wrapped around your entire body, and let out a watery laugh between the tears of pain.

“This- This is gonna take me so long to get off,” you whine, clenching and unclenching your fists as you’re surrounded by the rest of the team. Your head lulls to the side, and your eyes find Peter, who’s now crouching by your head. At your feet, you see Tony, and feel a cold pressure on your leg as one of his machines gets to work stitching you up. Wincing bravely through the pain, you look pleadingly to Peter.

“I can help you,” he says, face white with worry. He keeps glancing to your leg. “Uh- that- that was really impressive,” he mutters, forcing his gaze to your eyes. Grasping the importance for distraction, he clears his throat. “Until the point where you got blasted out the sky, that is,” he adds.

You laugh, the noise slightly strangled but still alight with appreciation. “It was epic,” you agree. “Did you get them all?”

Peter nods, his fluffy hair shifting in the wind. “Yep. Got all the weapons too. They’re taking them all into custody now.” You look back and see Thor roughly shoving the remaining conscious men into the back of a van.

“That’s your leg bandaged,” Tony announces. You look down and see him looking at you, arms crossed. “Try to stay off it for a few days. I know how you Asgardians are, so please, make sure to rest-”

Before he’s finished talking, you’re already on your feet, shaking out your leg as you marvel at his handiwork. It feels like brand new, the pain now just a distant throb.

“Thanks,” you say, beaming.

“Rest it,” he threatens, shaking his finger at you before moving off to help the others.

And then it’s just you and Peter, alone in the middle of the carnage of the street, a pocket of serenity amidst the chaos.

“Thanks for saving me,” you say, a little shy, now. You would’ve been fine if you’d crashed straight into the hard concrete, but you’re feeling particularly smitten now as you look at Peter, his face still pinched with an element of stress, but more relaxed now you’re up and about.

“‘S okay. Said I’d save you, didn’t I?” He replies. He reaches out and pulls at some of the stringy web that still covers your body, and winces. “This might take a bit of work, though.”

You laugh, and stretch your hand out to where his is resting on your side. Your fingers wrap around his and you slowly intertwine them, a tentative movement until he pushes in against you, connecting your palms and squeezing your hand warmly.

“We make a pretty good team,” you say, swallowing nervously. You meet his eyes, his brown eyes warm and inviting, and feel your heart pulse in your chest.

“We do,” he agrees. He steps a little closer, cheeks blooming with a rosy pink. “Maybe we should work together again sometime.”

You nod. He’s directly in front of you now, your hands still laced together. After a moment of just looking, you lean in and press a soft kiss to his waiting lips, your bodies slotting together gently, perfectly. It’s just a small kiss, but in the seconds that span out afterwards, your foreheads press together, and his breath fans out across your face. Your eyes are closed, and for a moment, you feel everything slotting together.

“Oi!” There’s a holler from the end of the street, and you peel back from Peter to see your dad glaring at you. “Stop that.”

You laugh lightly. “Go away!” You respond, and quickly tug Peter in the opposite direction. “They’re going to be so annoying about this, aren’t they?” You mutter, jerking your head back in the direction of the team, whose eyes burn into your backs as you and Peter hurry away.

“Yep.” Peter rolls his eyes. “Guess we’ll just have to deal with it.”

You nod your head slowly, your heart feeling lighter than ever before. “I guess we will.”

And what follows may or may not have involved a secluded alley and lots of kissing, but you’d never tell.

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any feedback? I would love to hear any thoughts you have on this!

masterlist

#Peter parker #Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker x y/n #Peter Parker oneshot #I LOV MY SOFT SON #my writing #odinson!reader #avenger!reader

705 notes · View notes

winterwolf0916 · 5 years

Text

(っ ͡❛ ‿ ͡❛)っ🖤Bed Head (¬‿¬)

Jason Todd x Reader

Requested by: Anon- Fluff bed time with Jaybird, please?

Warning: fluff!! Just a tad bit of angst and language

A/n: Sorry this took me long, darling. But I hope you like it. Also the picture is not mine but if you know who the artist is, please give them lots of love to them and their hard works. And if you readers like, I could tag you for my future works. Just let me know in the comments :) Enjoy scrolling <3

Word Count: 1,503

- The entire batfamily is sleep deprived.

- Well, that is until you both shared your first accidental cuddle in your dorm at Gotham University.

- And that was the kickstart of you and Jason getting together

- Your roommate was out for the night and you were studying for a statistics exam that is in two days in your dorm.

- It was quiet until your best friend/crush Red Hood stumbled through your window battered up and tired as hell for chasing around criminals throughout the night.

- Right after you patched him right up, he tiredly asks if he could stay for the night and he could sleep on your roommate’s bed so you don’t have trouble sleeping in yours.

- You declined the idea of him sleeping on your roommate’s bed because the heater on her side is broken and your side of the room is warmer. So you told him to sleep on your bed instead.

- It was very late and Jason was sleeping. Your eyelids were heavy, your head repetitively falling but jolted you back into your senses, and your mind was overwhelmed by information.

- You turned off your computer, the only source of light in your dorm and climbed into your roommate’s bed drifting into sleep.

- You expected to feel cold over night but you didn’t. It was surprisingly warm. And you don’t recall your roommate having a life sized teddy bear around.

- As you woke up, you didn’t feel an ounce of chilliness.

- And that was one of the best goodnight sleep since...well...years

- As your eyes wandered around to process your surroundings you immediately stopped. Your heart raced and your face fumed.

- That was the moment you realized...You weren’t in your roommate's bed.

- Your back was against the wall, Jason’s arm was under your head like a pillow, you glanced under the sheets to see that your legs were tangled with his, and what's even more face flushing was the few inches of space between you and your crush.

- His mouth was slightly parted letting out gentle and quiet breaths, his hair was tousled but yet a nice look on him, and his closed eyes and relaxed expression made your heart melt inside.

- This is the first time you’ve seen Jason this relaxed for a long period of time. Usually you’ve seen him with a playful expression, sometimes defeated, angry, a few times sad, and snippets of him being comfortable.

- But seeing him like this is fulfilling. His story was heart wrenching and unfair. And now he is on a bed, sleeping, and not caring about what is going on to the world because he knows he is safe. Safe with you-

- Jason let out a small groan then decided to fold his forearm (that was behind your head) causing you to let out a gasp before accidently closing the space between you both.

- His lips were soft and slightly chapped, the butterflies in your stomach began to swarm, your eyes widened at the situation, and slowly...Jason’s eyes opened.

- As much as you wish the kiss would continue you had to stop.

- You tore your lips from his, covered your face while it became more flushed, and rolled to face the wall in order to hide your appearance.

- Jason's eyebrows were so high up, his eyes were wide, mouth agape, and heart beating ever so rapidly. He couldn’t believe what just happened in those few seconds.

- “Shit! I’m so sorry Y/N-I-I didn’t mean to-” He was stuttering. The big bad Red Hood that all of the criminals in Gotham shrink before is stuttering to his crush in her dorm on her-

- “Why did you join me on Carisa's bed?” You asked, rolling to face him once again.

- “Carisa? You’re on your own bed, you idiot.”

- “I’m not-” One glance was all it took for you to have another realization that you accidently climbed in the wrong bed, “Oh wait...I am...Why didn’t you wake me up?”

- “I was in deep sleep! I didn’t even know you were here!”

- “Better question, why did you kiss me?”

- “It was an accident!”

- You both kept on bickering back and forth of who is at fault. That is until-

- “Oh, it's not my fault that I like you-” you blurted out and immediately regretted it. His expression went from annoyed into ‘Oh shit, you do?!?!’

- “You...Actually like me back?” Cue the both of you red as cherries.

- You were about to make a move but you heard the door open and footsteps. Carisa, your roommate, paused in her place at the sight of you both.

- And you noticed she was getting the wrong idea. Messed up hair, red faces, shocked expression that someone walked in, Jason in your dorm, ON YOUR BED, WITH YOU.

- She gave out a fat smirk, “About. Damn. Time you two.”

- Cue the next night to Jason asking you out and ending the night with a cuddle.

- Skip to a couple months, Jason has never been better.

- Your cuddles make him weak. It was the highlight of his days.

- Most of the time he is the big spoon and he loves it. He loves to hold you close in his arms and peck kisses on your forehead, nose, cheeks, and lips.

- You would sometimes run your hands through his hair and he passes out.

- He wasn’t giving sass to Bruce as much nor to his brothers, he wasn’t drinking coffee as much, and better yet he was sleeping so much better because of you.

- One night you couldn’t go to Jason’s apartment because you had to study for the finals.

- He said don’t worry about it because he was busy too.

- And let me tell you, lover boy has an odd schedule of patrolling and missions.

- Sometimes he works in the daytime then nights he rest or work in the nighttime and day rest or even work for a solid 24 hours and then crash for a good day or two.

- But one night without him turned into two. Two nights turned into a full week.

- You were so sleep deprived not only because Jason wasn’t there, it was because you crammed so much information for your finals and the most sleep you had was 3 hours.

- You also became worried for him because after your finals he was absent for 4 more days.

- You were getting more worried by the day. That is until you got a call from the manor.

- After you arrived and greeted parts of the Bat-family, you rushed upstairs in Jason’s room to find him in bandages and resting.

- He was tossing and turning, muttering curses as he felt pain, but soon relaxed because you joined him in bed.

- As daylight broke, he woke up to his head on your chest, you cradling his head close, your fingers in his hair, and his arms around your hips.

- He felt like he was at home. Warm and comfortable.

- Then an idea came to his head.

- He decides to tickle you in your sleep.

- As you felt fingers on your stomach, you were alert. You thought it was an intruder that wants to take you hostage because you're close to the Red Hood.

- And you clearly forgot that you’re in the Manor and not in Jason’s apartment.

- Your fist collided with Jason's stomach which has an injury.

- “Fuck...” He croaked as he doubled over and was so weak because it hurted like hell.

- You yell out a thousand apologies and massaged his injury.

- Him repeating that he was alright and it wasn’t your fault.

- “If you keep apologizing, why don’t you kiss it to make it better doll?” He let out a small grin hoping to make you blush.

- But ya didn’t

- “Alright, dork,” You let out a smirk, “If you insist~” You sang.

- You pushed back a strand of hair behind your ear and pressed your lips on Jason’s.

- He was caught off guard but gave in with a smile. He cupped your face with his hand and rubbed your cheek with his thumb.

- As you pulled away, you placed your forehead against his.

- “Welcome back Jay.”

- “Thank you, love.”

- Cut to Jason going downstairs to get breakfast for you and himself to eat in his room.

- And then Dick came in.

- “Damn! Someone got the bed head again.” Jason’s eye twitched, not really wanting to have this conversation again.

- “With Y/n too.” Tim teased sipping his coffee.

- “Shut up Timbers.” Jason warned.

- “So proud of you little wing.” Dick wrapped his arm around Jason’s shoulders and ruffled his younger brother’s hair. “So, care to say the details?”

- And boy...Jason did get mad.

- But he lets it go with a punch.

- a hard yet meaningful punch

- “What was that sound downstairs?” You asked, taking a bite of your croissant

- “Nothing to worry about.”

- He loves and adores you so please don’t break his heart.

- Fin~~~

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #Red Hood X y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x you #batboys x you #batboys x y/n #batboys x reader #dc x reader #dc x you #dc x y/n #batfamily x reader #batfamily x you #batfamily x y/n

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aspiring-ginger · 5 years

Text

Of All the Stars in the Sky (Jaskier x Reader)

Request: Yay! So happy your requests are open! I love your wriring. Can you please do something with Jaskier? Maybe reader has been trained with a sword most their life and travels with Geralt and Jaskier. He could write a song about the reader (very original haha) or reader gets hurt and Jaskier worries for them. I don’t know, thank you ♡

Summary: Geralt & the gang are on their way to Vizima when some trouble brews outside of the city gates. Suspicions rise when the reader doesn’t show up to the New Narakort Inn as planned.

Warnings: Strong language, violence. Nothing unusual for the Witcher.

Word count: 5,808

Pairing(s): Jaskier x reader

A/N: Here ya go, anon! I got carried away and couldn’t choose one of the two options, so I just did both. Almost 6k haha. Reader’s gender wasn’t mentioned so I did my best to keep it gender neutral. I took some inspiration from The Witcher 1, as well as the Carnal Sins questline from The Witcher 3. Also thanks to my best friend for helping me write this (she doesn’t have a tumblr or I’d tag), thanks bb!! Some of you wanted to be added to my taglist so I’m going to do it by fandom, character, and series. Please specify which you want to be tagged in or else you’re getting everything lol. So anyone who commented on Forget-Me-Not chap 1 is going to be just for that series, unless you said otherwise. Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy this one! As always requests, comments, and feedback is always appreciated. Happy Valentine’s Day!!

Taglist: @dandelionwitcher @thunderdog8

Masterlist

There was a simple comfort found on the open road. Surrounded by nature untainted by man, nothing but earth and sky around you. Everything raw and untamed just as nature intended.

It was here out in the open where you found yourself currently, head resting on your bunched up cloak propped up on a log, angled up at the sky. Geralt and Jaskier were around somewhere, each tending to his own business. Geralt had been holed up in his tent, most likely replenishing his stock of potions and elixirs after your last hunt.

Geralt had learned quickly that any and all alchemy was to be done privately in his room or tent, away from Jaskier’s prying eyes. You had only been travelling with the odd pair for a few weeks at that point, still unsure of the limits and boundaries you had with the two. You had been sitting with them close to the small campfire Geralt had set up. It was a warm night, the boys both shedding their outer layers and rolling their sleeves to get as much air as possible. You were intrigued by the witcher’s alchemy as you had never seen anything quite like it before. Sure, you’d seen your share of healers’ work but this was something else entirely. Apparently neither had Jaskier, as he was avidly asking questions and inching closer by the minute. It wasn’t long before Jaskier’s relentless inquiries turned to bickering, and whatever unfinished concoction Geralt had been making was spilled. The ground sizzled when splashed, as did the boys’ exposed skin. While you pitied them both for the chemical burns, the rest of the week had been pretty entertaining. Stock full of pouting and theatrics.

You snickered at the memory as you stared up at the night sky. Jaskier’s childish actions that week had really brought the three of you together, and solidified your part in the rag-tag team. You had come to the rescue when ambushed by bandits later in the week. Geralt was unable to defend both himself and the bard given his current injuries, and you had swooped in at the last second deflecting a blade aimed at Jaskier’s throat. After that moment you had decided to stick with the boys for good.

“What are you laughing at? Something funny in the sky?” Jaskier teased, propping himself up against the log next to you.

You hadn’t heard him approach, jumping slightly at his words. He had been washing up at the nearby creek and you weren’t expecting him to be back so soon. The fresh smell of his soap- a mixture of sandalwood, sage, and a sweet fruit, cherry maybe?, hit your nose as he nudged your shoulder with his and laughed.

“No, just remembering something funny,” You smiled.

“Oh? Would you care to share? Geralt’s ‘locked’ himself in his tent so I could use a bit of a pick me up.” He teased, stretching his arms behind his head to mimic your position.

You jokingly hummed in thought, “Remember that time with Geralt’s potions and you managed to burn right through your shirt? What, a year ago now? You demanded extra special care for your 'terrible wounds’ that whole week! I swear I thought Geralt was going to tear your head off.”

“In my defense, that had been one of my favorite shirts from home, which was absolutely flattering by the way, and they really were terrible wounds! I seem to recall you coming to my rescue- my knight in shining armor with her noble steed,” He giggled and dramatically draped a hand over his forehead.

“I’m sure Blueberry just loved carrying your spoiled arse around,” You snorted.

Jaskier scoffed, “Blueberry and I have become great friends since then. She adores me!”

You heard your mare snort as if in response, and the two of you dissolved into a fit of giggles and laughter. You wiped a stray tear from your eye and sighed. You turned your head to look at the bard

“We’re finally headed back to Vizima tomorrow. Are you excited for a real bath and a soft bed?”

“How could I not? One can only travel on the road for so long before needing a well earned refresher. Even the witcher has his limits,” You hummed in agreement. “Besides! I’ll be debuting my newest song. This one will be a hit, I’m sure of it! Even better than the last!”

“Really? Even better than Toss a Coin?” You raised a brow in mock surprise.

“Let’s just say that I have a better inspiration this time around,” He turned to face you as well, throwing a wink in your direction.

You let out a nervous laugh and prayed to Melitele that the darkness around you hid the blush that dusted your cheeks. You cleared your throat and pointed up at the sky, hoping to change the topic.

“Do you ever get lost in the beauty of the stars? We see them every night, yet each time I look up they almost take my breath away. I get dizzy just looking at them all.”

Jaskier let out a low chuckle, “Wonderfully spoken, (y/n). Mind if I use that in a song?”

You rolled your eyes “I’m being serious! I just don’t understand how something so beautiful just goes unnoticed by so many.”

You heard Jaskier hum next to you and you glanced over to see his reaction. His face and body was turned to face you, a small smile gracing his cheeks. Firelight flickered in his bright blue eyes and you were overwhelmed with the scent of him again. Seconds ticked by as you were pulled in by his gaze. You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes dart down to your lips. His face was so close to yours, you just wanted to reach out and brush his still damp hair out of his eyes, pulling his face close so you could-

You awkwardly cleared your throat, sliding yourself away from him before you could do anything foolish you would regret.

“I um, I-I’ll see you in the morning, Jaskier. Goodnight.” You scooped up your cloak and scurried over to your bedroll. Seeing as how you only had two tents between the three of you and you quite enjoyed the weather this time of year, you offered Geralt and Jaskier a tent each. You cursed yourself and you turned away in your blankets, trying to ignore the bard across the camp.

Jaskier sighed and called his goodnights out to you and Geralt as well. He glanced up at the stars with a wistful smile. It would only be one more day, maybe two, before he could finally follow through with his plan. He had connections with the New Narakort Inn where he arranged your group’s stay in the city. Hopefully by then he would have the lyrics finished and ready to perform. His previous attempts at flirting had failed to get your attention, so as a final resort he devised his whole plan to perform his new song to you, as a confession.

He climbed into his tent, pulling out his notebook and scratching out a few words with a sigh. He made a note to mention your love for the stars, and you technically didn’t say no to his request to quote you earlier. He pulled out his lute and rehearsed the melody of the song, mumbling possible lyrics under his breath. You smiled as you rolled over, Jaskier’s calming chords lulling you to sleep.

You woke as the first rays of sunlight began to peek through the trees above. A light fog had settled in around you, refracting the light around you. It was quite pretty, actually. You sat up and stretched your arms out, then ran a hand down your face when you faltered. Looking down in confusion, you saw an extra blanket pooled in your lap. One sniff and you identified it as Jaskier’s. Since when did he wake up early? You supposed it had gotten a little chilly during the night, but it was spring after all. You wanted to enjoy your time outdoors before the heat would put you in a sour mood.

You sent a nervous glance at the two tents opposite you, pausing to listen if the occupants had woken up yet. Satisfied when you heard silence you pulled Jaskier’s blanket up to your chest and took a deep breath. You couldn’t hide your smile at his sweet gesture and a quiet giggle escaped your lips. You laid back down all giddy, burying your face into his blanket. It wasn’t long before you drifted back to sleep.

Jaskier emerged from his tent later that morning. Geralt had already started packing his things away, giving him a nod in acknowledgement. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out an apple and tossed it at the bard. Jaskier caught it, buffing it against his shirt before taking a bite. He wiped juice off his chin as he walked up to the witcher. Geralt raised an eyebrow at him with an amused smirk.

“What, is there something on my face? Bad bedhead or something?” Jaskier tutted, placing one hand on his hip.

“Really, Jaskier?” Geralt responded not bothering to elaborate, but inclined his head in your direction.

“Wha-?” He faltered, “What are you talking about, Geralt? It’s too early to decipher your broody minimalism,” He swallowed thickly, fidgeting the apple in his hands.

“Thought your spoiled arse would be cold sleeping without a blanket.” Geralt shrugged, hiding a smirk. He left the bard sputtering to come up with an excuse.

Taking Geralt’s cue that he was done with the conversation for now Jaskier took another bite and sighed. He forgot about the witcher’s heightened senses and would have to be subtler in the future. He was pretty sure Geralt already took him for a fool, but he’d prefer not to fan the flames any more. His head shot up realizing that you could’ve heard their conversation, wincing at his carelessness. His shoulders slumped back down when he saw your still sleeping form. Seems like Geralt didn’t wake you on purpose. Ha ha, very funny.

He quietly padded up to you, careful not to make any sudden movements. You had his blanket snuggled right up against your face, a small smile gracing your features. Jaskier couldn’t help but grin as he felt his heart squeeze at the sight. He gently shook your shoulder and called out your name.

“Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty! We’ve got quite a day ahead of us. Up and at 'em!” You squinted your eyes at Jaskier for disturbing your sleep. He laughed at your pouting and strolled away to pack his things.

You stared forward for a few moments waiting for your brain to fully wake up. Your eyes shot open wide- you still had that damn blanket pulled right up to you- and you quickly shoved it off. You winced and hoped you didn’t look too silly in your sleep. You packed your belongings as well. You certainly didn’t feel like a sleeping beauty as you smoothed your rumpled hair back down.

When you had everything stuffed back into your saddlebags and pack, you went to greet Blueberry with her morning pets. It seemed Jaskier already beat you to it- he was feeding her the remnants of his apple and running his hand through her mane. He muttered praise under his breath as he untangled knots with his fingers. You swallowed and paused to gather your thoughts before coming any closer. If he kept this up any longer you just knew you wouldn’t be able to concentrate with his hands around your waist for gods know how many hours until you arrived in Vizima.

You slung the bags around Blueberry’s back and gave her a gentle pat, giving Jaskier a curt smile.

“I don’t feel all that great, so you can go ahead and take the reins today,” At least that way you would be able to hide your face if you were embarrassed. “And that way I’ll have better access to my sword. You know, in case monsters or bandits or something,” You justified. You didn’t know who you were trying to convince more- you or him.

You turned on your heels and briskly walked back to your spot. You felt ashamed that you let yourself get carried away with your thoughts. Stupid girlish thoughts. You sighed as you strapped on your light armor. You were a fool to hope Jaskier was anything more than a friend. You double checked your sword- inspecting the blade before sheathing it at your hip. You restrung your shortbow and slung it over your shoulder, and secured your small quiver at your hip. Bandits often patrolled the roads close to the city. Geralt would hear anyone coming way before you, but you wanted to be prepared.

The ride in was mostly uneventful, you spent most of your time dodging Jaskier’s lute case every time he whipped his head back to say something to you. You hadn’t been fast enough the first time, and he and Geralt would not let it go, relentlessly teasing you for being bested by a damn lute. At first it was funny and you laughed along with them, but after the 8th or so close call it got old fast.

You parted ways with Geralt and Jaskier at the city gates, following your usual routine. You would check the outskirts for work for either Geralt or yourself. You often took on hunting jobs or other contracts that didn’t directly involve monsters, since that was obviously Geralt’s area of expertise. Geralt would check notice boards within the city while Jaskier would secure room and board at the best inn he could find that would let him perform. He would take care of Roach and Blueberry and by the time he was done, you and Geralt would return and discuss your findings. Dividing and conquering was your best strategy to ensure you made the most coin you possibly could.

As you slid off of Blueberry’s back, Jaskier informed you to meet at the New Narakort Inn. It was unusual for him to be so prepared, but you shrugged it off as perks of being a bard/entertainer. It didn’t take long to find a notice board in the outskirts. Most of the papers posted were generic notices to the public- “be wary of the merchant with the red hair, don’t give yer money to a witch!” Or complaints of missing livestock- completely useless. There were two promising notes, however. One claiming that Old Farmer Ned’s goats were being slaughtered by terrible beasts. You pocketed that one for Geralt. The other asked for a good amount of venison for some nearby butcher. You tore that one off for yourself.

As you perused the board in front of you, you paid no mind to the villagers milling about. You did begin to take notice as a commotion started to your left. 3 burly men dressed in matching rags and similar tattoos surrounded a young elven girl with their weapons drawn. She clutched a covered basket close to her chest and sobbed. One man held up his blade while the other gestured for the woman to hand the goods over. You couldn’t exactly make out what they were saying, but you guessed the elven woman was begging to let her go. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach as you glanced around to see if anyone else around noticed what was happening. You frowned in disappointment. Men and women rushed past with heads down ignoring the scene, some even cheering on the men and calling out racial slurs. The first man had stepped even closer to the poor girl, his sword held against her neck as the other men jeered. You sighed and rolled your shoulders back. There was no way you could let this happen, not when you could do something about it.

In the blink of an eye your sword collided with the first man’s, pushing it away from the woman. You held an arm out to her and gestured for her to get behind you.

“You know, you shouldn’t take things that don’t belong to you. Apologize to the woman and walk away,” You threatened with a snarl. The girl ran behind you and clutched your sleeve in fear.

The other two men laughed and pointed their swords at you, the first one just rolled his eyes, “And what are you going to do about it, elf lover? You gonna stand up for this nonhuman filth? We deserve that basket. It should be ours. And once we take it, we’ll get to have our way with her. You want that too, you little shit?” He sneered.

You spat at their feet and swung your sword to disarm the man, kicking him in the groin. He crumpled to the ground as the other two stepped forward, swords swinging. You dodged one and parried the other. They circled around you into a flank position. The second man lunged at you. You stepped back and grabbed him, using his momentum to send him crashing into his buddy. The first man stood up and began to reach for his sword. You turned, smacking the butt of your hilt against the back of his head as he bent over. He collapsed back to the ground with a thud.

The third goon shoved the second off with a grunt and came charging at you, empty handed. His fist smacked right into your chest knocking the air out of your lungs. You hunched over and gasped. The goon saw this as an opening and raised his leg to kick your face in. Your eyes trained on the ground saw his leg lift up, and you took this opportunity to sweep his legs out from under him. He fell to the ground and clawed at your leg. The other man came at you with his sword. Your blades clashed as you shook your leg in an attempt to get rid of the fool at your feet. With a strong kick of your leg, you forced your foot into the man’s face. You heard a sickening crunch and he screamed in pain. With your foot now free, you turned your attention back to the last man standing. You parried blow after blow, the man relentlessly swinging at you. He was quite sloppy, and you quickly found an opening to disarm him as well. You held your blade against his neck, drawing a bit of blood. The man trembled and raised his hands in the air in defeat.

You spat in his face and shoved him to the ground, “You and your friends can go and fuck right off. Next time you think twice about who you’re robbing.” You drove one more kick into his stomach for good measure.

The man scrambled to gather the other two thugs and their weapons before scampering off. They called out slurs and insults as they left but you paid them no mind. You bent over to pick up a jar that had fallen out of the woman’s basket. She had just been carrying groceries home.

You turned around and offered the jar to her with a smile. She stared at you with wide eyes before thanking you profusely. She pulled you into a hug with a sob, choking something out about the kindness of some humans. You awkwardly patted her on the back and placed the jar back into her basket. She started to take out her coin purse insisting on payment but you just held up your hand and shook your head. There was no possible way you could ever take her coin. All you had done was step in to help a woman in need. Just doing what was right. You told the woman this and she responded with another sob. She shook your hand and hurried away with a wave.

You sheathed your sword with a sigh. The villagers avoided your gaze and went out of their way to give you a wide berth. At this point you just desperately wanted a bath, good food and drink, and some quality time spent with your friends. You went and picked up the notice you dropped by the board before you stepped in to help. All you had to do was speak to the butcher to negotiate pay and the amount of meat needed. Then you could finally head into town.

The sun was setting by the time that you made your way past the city gates into the Temple Quarter. It had taken much more time to track down and speak with the butcher, and you hoped that you had enough time for a quick soak before Jaskier’s performance. Even though you’ve heard him play countless times before, you couldn’t miss even a single performance. Seeing him lute in hand playing for so many people was simply put, a breathtaking experience. He was in his element, oozing confidence and charm as he circled the room singing his heart out. Faces in the crowd smiled and cheered along with his songs, clapping and raising their mugs in approval. Every time he would glance back at whatever table you and Geralt had chosen, your heart felt as if it was about to burst. He always looked you in the eye and winked before turning back to the crowd and each time the butterflies in your stomach went crazy. He was so happy and pure and every time without fail, he took that moment to acknowledge you.

Even just thinking about him made your cheeks flush as you walked through the slums of the city. It was only a few more blocks until the Trade Quarter, where the New Narakort was located. You smiled as you saw the torches of guards posted at the gate over the top of the hill. You were so lost in your thoughts as you approached, that you failed to notice the shadow lurking in an alleyway nearby. It darted out as you walked by and grabbed you. A hand was clamped over your mouth before you could cry out and you were dragged back into the alley. The hand released you and you whipped your head around to identify your attacker. A strong blow to your face left you spitting up blood with a groan.

“Serves you right for helping out that disgusting nonhuman, you piece of filth!” You recognized the voice as one of the thugs from earlier.

You opened your mouth to respond, but instead a strong kick to your core knocked the words right out of you. You took blow after blow, spitting up blood when you got the chance. There were at least the same 3 men from before, but you were so disoriented you couldn’t even tell. They paused every so often to let you catch your breath and try to fight back before kicking you down to the ground again. Kick after kick after kick you struggled on the ground. There was a sharp pain in your right thigh as, what you guessed could only be, a dagger drove straight into your poor leg. You screamed out in agony and suffered another blow to the head. Each attack seemed to be growing in power as you clawed at the ground to try and escape. A sob escaped your lips as you felt the slash of another blade across your back. The men around you cheered and laughed, all taking part of the fun.

“You don’t mess with us, you elf loving whore!” The main attacker cried. With a laugh his final blow to your head had you seeing stars, and the world faded to black.

When you came to, you were alone. the moon was already high in the sky, and you couldn’t make anything out in the alley around you. You groaned in pain as you tried to sit up to assess your wounds. The dagger that was plunged deep into your thigh was still there, stopping most of the bleeding. That was good, but every time you even shifted, you cried out in pain. You had to take it out but you didn’t have any of your supplies on you, you left it all packed on Blueberry. The cut on your back scabbed up, but you probably opened it back up by moving around. Your whole face felt swollen, and you tasted blood. You were sure you looked like absolute shit.

You struggled to stand. Leaning heavily against the wall, you spat out more blood. You shuffled against the brick wall, hands clawing any groove you could grab just to pull yourself forward. You manage a couple of steps before you collapse down the ground. Fuck. You didn’t know how far you could go in the state. You let out a frustrated sob. Would Geralt and Jaskier be able to find you in time? Did they even notice you were gone? Your thoughts were racing as you heaved yourself up once more. You banged your leg against the wall and yelped- your vision going fuzzy for a moment. If you could at least drag yourself out of the alley, maybe there was a chance a guard would find you?

You heard footsteps approach and winced- were those thugs coming back for more? You looked up and saw a silhouette of a man.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help.” You heard a soothing voice call out. You groaned and shifted against the bricks. “I saw what you did earlier, outside of town. You helped one of my kind. I wish to repay this kindness.” He stepped closer and slipped an arm around you, holding you up so your weight wasn’t on your injured leg.

“Please, save your energy and don’t speak. My name is Palmar, I’m a trained healer. I’ll take you back to my house to patch you up. Do you live here?” You shook your head, “Are you here alone?” You shook your head, “We can send word to your companions once we get you safe. Is that alright?” You nodded. You then lurched forward, Palmar holding you up.

The journey to Palmar’s small house went by in a blur, the pain in your leg too strong to focus on anything else. When you arrived, he laid you down on a cot in the main room. It was small with only a fireplace, a table, your cot, and a hallway visible. Once you were propped up with pillows, Palmar lit the fireplace and several candles throughout the room to provide light. You finally got a good look at your savior. He was tall and scrawny, dressed in a simple shirt and pants. He looked young, maybe 30 years you guessed. The top of his auburn hair was pulled into a bun while the rest hung down to his shoulder. He caught your gaze and smiled, warm brown eyes filled with warmth.

“I assure you, I have treated many wounds like this. You are in good hands. I told you my name, but I’m afraid I didn’t catch yours,” He strode around the room, gathering various vials and bandages.

“(Y/n). I travelled here with a witcher and a bard- Geralt of Rivia and Jaskier. I was supposed to meet them at the New Narakort.” Your voice was raspy and strained.

“The New Narakort? A fine establishment. I’ve heard their stew is to die for,” He smiled again, undoing the straps of your armor and weapons. “I’m afraid this is going to hurt. Like a bitch,” He chuckled “I’m going to pull the knife out on the count of three, alright? Ready? One, two-” you braced yourself for the pain, crying out as he yanked the dagger out early. Palmar quickly cleaned out the wound. With the knife gone, he helped you strip down to your smalls. He cleaned and dressed the rest of your wounds, muttering words of encouragement as he went. As the pain finally began to lessen, you felt your eyelids droop with exhaustion. Palmar let out a small chuckle.

“It’s alright, my friend. You can rest. I will go fetch your friends while you sleep.” You furrowed your brow at him, not understanding why he was being so kind.

“I don’t understand, why are you helping me?” You forced your eyes open. You didn’t want to fall asleep without knowing the answer. Palmar helped you back into your shirt and lay comfortably on the cot.

“As I said before, I saw what you did for that poor woman outside of town. You stood up to those humans. No other human would’ve stepped in like you did. I am grateful. I was walking home when I saw those awful humans leave the alley and my gut told me to check it before I continued home- and I found you.” You sighed, happy with his answer for now. You couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer so you snuggled closer to the blankets. As Palmar stood to leave he whispered, “My daughter was killed by that very same gang. The one you stood up against. This was the very least I could do to help.” You slipped into a dreamless sleep.

You felt a clammy hand grab yours, and another shake you awake. You opened your eyes to a bright blue pair looking down at you in worry. Jaskier.

“Oh, thank the gods. Geralt, they’re awake! Oh (y/n), you have no idea how worried I was for you! We waited at the inn and when it got dark and you still hadn’t shown, well Geralt said not to worry, but I just knew something wasn’t right! You’ve never missed any of my performances. I couldn’t let you break your streak, so I waited for you. And waited, and waited. Then this lovely man showed up and- gods! I’m just glad you’re alright,” Jaskier rambled, squeezing your hand tighter and tighter with each word.

“Jaskier, I’m okay.” You squeezed his hand back with a smile.

“Blueberry is waiting outside. We’ll take you back to the inn.” Geralt said as he gathered your things and carried them outside.

Jaskier said something to Palmar in Elder as he helped you out of bed, which he responded in kind. You made a mental note to ask Jaskier about it later. They exchanged a few more words, and soon they had you out of the door and on Blueberry’s back. Palmar shook your hand one last smile and thanks before you were on your way. Geralt lead Blueberry by the reins while Jaskier walked beside you, his hand coming up to nervously rub you calf. On your uninjured side, of course.

Your friends slowly lead you through the streets of Vizima, right to the New Narakort. Jaskier helped you inside and to your room while Geralt took care of Blueberry. Jaskier fussed over you, helping you wash your hair and settling you into bed, fluffing every pillow in the process. He bid you goodnight with a squeeze of your hand and blew out the candles, but he hesitated at the door.

“Jaskier? What’s wrong?” You asked, voice laced with worry.

“You could’ve died. They left you in that alley to die and I could have lost you,” Jaskier choked out.

“Julian. It’s alright. I’m alright. I’m safe now. Don’t worry.” He snapped his head up when you called out his real name.

“(Y/n), I always worry. Every time you go out with Geralt on a hunt, or when you pick up odd jobs around towns. I worry. I’m always going to worry about you, because you’re my friend. Actually- hang on a minute. I’ll be just a moment!” He rushed out the room in a flash. Your heart ached at his words. You’re my friend. Just a friend. A bittersweet smile escaped your lips. It was obvious just how much the bard cared for you, but it still wasn’t enough. You sighed, swallowing back tears and waited for him to come back.

Jaskier was true to his word- he was only gone for two minutes at most. He burst back into the room, out of breath with his lute in hand.

“(Y/n), the reason I couldn’t have you miss my performance is because of my new song. Remember? I’ve finally finished it, and I couldn’t have you miss it, because…” he faltered, hands wringing nervously, “I wrote it for you.” You looked at him in surprise as he held the lute up and began to play. The melody was beautiful. It was somewhat familiar as you had tried to eavesdrop whenever you could in camp, but you had never heard the words before. He sang about a fierce warrior with (h/c) hair shining in the sun as they defeated their foes, their bravery and kindness unmatched. The beauty of their laugh and smile was enough to turn the heads of everyone as they walked into the room. Their love of the stars in the night sky, 'each time I look at them, they take my breath away’. He was quoting you, in a song he wrote for you. No, wrote about you. He wrote this song about you. Tears sprang up in your eyes as you came to this realization. Jaskier’s fingers slipped as he saw your reaction.

“I-it’s horrible isn’t it. I figured. I should’ve waited a bit longer- practiced it more.” He groaned, running his hand down his face. “(Y/n), I’m sorry. Obviously I need to work on this one a bit more but.. you have to understand that you almost died. I wrote this song and you almost died. I had to play it for you before I would lose the chance because… because (y/n). I love you.” His piercing blue eyes were filled with hope as he looked into yours.

“Julian- I love it. It’s beautiful and I love the song and I love you too,” your words were all rushed together- you couldn’t get them out fast enough.

Jaskier launched himself at you, careful of your wounds, and embraced you tight. You breathed in his familiar scent.

“So since you love me back, does that mean I get to kiss you?” He asked with a smirk, legs straddling your own.

“Oh come here, you,” you laughed. Your hands grasped the sides of his face and pulled him close. You could feel his hot breath against your lips as he hesitated, before he pressed his lips against yours. Your eyelids fluttered shut in content. If this is what it took to finally be with your favorite bard, you’d do it a hundred times over. Now you could finally call Jaskier your own.

#jaskier x reader #jaskier imagine #Jaskier #dandelion #dandelion imagine #dandelion x reader #dandelion x you #jaskier x you #My writing #request #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher imagine #the witcher x reader #the witcher netflix #the witcher netflix x reader #the witcher netflix imagine #the witcher netflix x you

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

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Hello friends! I put off Anons for too long again, lmao. So here we are.

1. Thank you! And thank you to everyone who sent an Anon about their vote of the fics I listed. I didn’t want to spam everyone with them, but I read each and every one and I appreciate you all. I hope you enjoy the sneak previews and the fics when they come! I love you, too!

2. You are so sweet! I love you and I’m so glad I’m helping inspire you to keep writing. It really is such a powerful thing. If you ever need someone to boost your stuff, send me a message.

3. I have two fics currently planned with Spencer/Autistic Reader! You can always find my upcoming fics on my Upcoming Masterlist here!

Porcelain: Autistic!Reader has a meltdown in the coffee shop. Luckily, there is a Dr. Reid nearby.

Funny Thing Fate: Spencer POV. Autistic!Reader. Reader is tipsy and lost in D.C. when she spots a man she thinks might be able to help.

4. I have a post here (also linked on my Masterlist in case ya ever lose it) of all the authors I know who are accepting requests for Criminal Minds. I always suggest them :) Also, welcome to Tumblr! We are so glad you are here!

5. I have one in my upcoming already! It’s called Shortbread. You can see my upcoming fics for Chip on my Other MGG Characters Masterlist here.

Shortbread: (Fem!Reader, Smut) Sub!Chip. There’s just something about sweet things crumbling to pieces in Reader’s hands. Especially Chip.

6. I don’t have any in the editing stage right now, but I am working on a few. Chip fics always bomb (cough, sweet cherries, cough) so it’s hard for me to motivate myself to do them.

#answer #answered

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thehomierobbstark · 5 years

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Smile For Me Daddy II

A/N: Okay, coming at you with part two of Smile For Me Daddy!! @ Anon who requested this, I hope this is encompasses what you were asking for! This part took a much softer turn than I expected, so if you’re not satisfied or was hoping for something else, feel free to hit my inbox!! Tags are coming! They’ll be on a separate post.

Warnings: At the bottom 👇🏿👇🏿👇🏿.

This is for all my lil cute ass black gorditas out there rockin back fat, belly rolls and thick ass thighs that touch!! x Reader is always gon be black, chubby, and sassy.

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“Why are you being so shy? You act like I haven’t seen it all before.” Y/N snickers from her spot on the black couch, legs dangling over the edge and her back against the seat, her hand running comfortingly over the pelt beside her head.

Erik was currently in the bathroom adjoining the studio, getting ready for his photo shoot. He’d initially protested heavily against the idea, refusing to be half naked by himself in the “cold ass fuckin studio,” but when she posed the question of who else she could get to do it on such short notice, he grumbly stomped into the restroom with no further argument.

After about 10 minutes he finally emerges, wearing one of the Terry Cloth robes she’d put in there for him with the matching slippers on, and beard freshly lined up using his razor she’d stolen from the apartment a few weeks ago. He’d been complaining nonstop about how unkempt his face was starting to look, but Y/N absolutely loved it, selfishly enjoying the feel of it when he rubbed his face across her skin.

She could tell by the way he was standing that he was a little out of his element, and she hops up from the couch, immediately switching over into her photographer role.

“Okay, take a few breaths baby, relax your mind a little. You look good! You’re about to kill this shoot right now, I’m mad I didn’t think about this sooner.”

He kisses his teeth, not believing a word that comes of out her mouth.

“I’m mad you really got me out here doing this shit. I look mad dumb right now babe. I don’t know if I can do this. You not bout to post these pictures around your studio, are you?” He was starting to ramble and waver a little, so she grabs his hand and leads him over to the couch, pushing him down to sit.

“Hey,” she whispers, climbing into his lap to straddle him. “Stop worrying, okay?”

She strokes her hands up and down his arms in an attempt to soothe him, kissing him around his face.

“You look fine Erik. I promise.” She lets her kisses trail down his neck, focusing on the spot he liked, and his hands move to caress her big thighs around him as he lets out a satisfied sigh.

She can feel the tension leaving his body as she comforts him, and she continues with her pep talk.

“Shit… you look more than just fine… you look edible as fuck right now.” She pulls at the tied belt around his waist and the robe loosens, bringing her hands up to slide the garment off his shoulders and pepper more kisses there.

“You look so sexy daddy. Don’t you want to look sexy for me?”

She looks at him with her big brown doe eyes, and all he can do is give a soft grunt in response.

“I promise nobody will see the photos. Just you and me. For our eyes only.”

He looks up at her, eyes searching between hers for any signs of deception.

“You not bout to play me like you did at Thanksgiving in 2017, are you?” He narrows his eyes, and she covers her mouth to muffle her laugh, playfully hitting him on the shoulder.

“Aye! You said you weren’t gonna bring that up anymore,” she reminds him, and he grunts a low yeah, whatever.

“I’m just tryna make sure you don’t do me dirty again,” She rolls her eyes at that.

“Boy hush. Ain’t nobody bout to do you dirty. I am a pro-fes-sion-AL thank you very much. Now, take off your robe and go stand over there so I can oil you up, ZADDY.” She gets off his lap, sniggering and pointing to the “oiling station” where all the baby oil was.

He groans and rolls his eyes deep into the back of his head, getting up and shaking off his robe onto the couch. Bending down he growls viciously into Y/N’s ear, snapping his teeth at her neck and making her squeal before smacking her on the ass.

Only for Y/N would he go through such nonsense, just to see her smile.

Running his thumbs along the band of his boxer briefs, he stands by the table, reaching up and pulling his dreads free from the bun they were in atop his head and shaking them loose.

Y/N goes into the bathroom to grab a towel, taking her camera from around her neck and placing it off to the side.

Coming back and grabbing a bottle of oil, she squirts some into her palms, rubbing the slick liquid between her hands and warming up the product. Stepping up to him she observes the studded keloids that cover his broad chest that spread over to his arms, all the way down to his wrists and down his stomach just below his hip bones.

“Okay, you ready?” she asks him, trying to gauge his nerves since they were once again moving forward in the process.

“Girl, if you don’t get to oiling me down and stop playing so we can be done with this!”

He complains, and she slaps him on the stomach with a sickening *splat*, stinging him a little.

“Mean ass,” she mutters, but she rubs at the spot to soothe away the sting.

Incorporating her other hand, she works the product around his torso, taking her time to evenly coat it everywhere and cover every inch of his keloids. She squirts some more product on her hands and continues, moving around him as she makes her way to his back.

Erik doesn’t provide any more commentary as he watches his girl, eyes focused on her concentrated face and the movement of her hands. It felt so nice the way she was loving all over him, even if she didn’t necessarily mean to at the moment, and every brush and stroke of her fingers was done with care and precision.

When she gets to his shoulders she makes him kneel down, which he uses as the perfect opportunity to hug himself around her waist and lay his head on her stomach.

“Erik, cut it out! You’re gonna get oil all over my clothes,” she whines at him, flicking him on the ear.

He flicks her back on the butt, shrugging his shoulders.

“So, take them off. I’ll do you next,” A sly smile parts his lips and she snorts.

“That ain’t how this works, nigga. You not slick.”

“Yeah, and it bednot work like that either. You not gone be doing this for everybody, are you?”

“No, Erik,” she laughs, tapping him on the shoulder to stand again. “They’ll be doing it themselves, in the bathroom. I only did it for you because I’m 90% sure you don’t know how to do it right.” She jokes, and his face deadpans at her, making her giggle some more.

“And cuz you my mans,” she adds, giving him a cheesy smile and angling her face up at him.

“Yeah, dat’s right,” he leans down, placing a kiss on her lips.

“Cuz I’m ya mans,” he murmurs against her lips, smooching her goofily for a few seconds before she finally pushes him away.

Taking the towel, she pats at his body to take away any excess oil, careful to keep enough shine for it to be subtle but still appear on camera.

She instructs Erik to get started by laying on the bed, telling him to pick a comfortable position while she goes to wash her hands.

Toeing off his slippers, he pads over to the bed and lays directly across it on his stomach, hearing the bathroom door close and the water run.

After about ten seconds, he moves, this time laying with his back against the pillows and facing forward.

A few more moments pass and he grows dissatisfied with that position as well, and he shuffles around some more, this time ending up with a pillow in his lap while he sits cross legged in the middle of the bed.

Not even two more seconds pass before he throws his head back and groans at the ceiling, tossing the pillow behind him and getting up altogether.

Y/N had only been gone a few minutes, but the more time he spent alone, the more his mind filled with incessant thoughts about the shoot.

This was ridiculous. There was no reason he should be so anxious, they were just pictures.

With the way his nerves were getting to him, he felt as if he was reliving the time he and Y/N were about to have sex for the first time, when he was so nervous he couldn’t stop pacing back and forth and picking the petals off the roses he’d bought for her.

Running his fingers through his dreads, he decides to just tell Y/N that he’s too nervous to go through with it when the bathroom door opens and she steps out.

Starting at her feet, an intricate floral design on black colored lace stretches up over her calves and past her knees, stopping midway at her thighs. From there, two black bands on each side connect the thigh high stockings to the black garter belt she was wearing, the red g-string she wore peeking out from underneath.

Covering her full C-cups was a cherry red lace bralette that stretched thinly across her mounds, the delicate band under the cups stopping a couple inches above her belly button. To top off the sexy ensemble, flowing effortlessly around her as she walked was a black silk robe with decorative Cherry Blossoms on the back, with branches crawling up the sleeves.

She looked delectable.

The way the red lighting bounced off her chocolate skin as she moved gave a sensual shift to the room, making Erik swallow thickly.

He was speechless as her soft foot steps carried her over to where he was, stopping to grab her camera and place it back around her neck along the way.

His mouth was hanging open, racing mind completely wiped clean as he looked down at his gorgeous baby girl standing in front of him.

She always knew just how to put his mind at ease.

*Snap*

The shutters of the camera blink as she snaps a quick picture of Erik’s awe inspired face, making a mental note to print an 8x10 to frame for her desk after they were finished.

His eyes were so lasered in on her cleavage, he almost missed the small twitch of her lips making her smirk a little.

“Like what you see?” She angles an eyebrow up at him, running her index fingers under the straps of her bra, pulling lightly and letting them snap back against her skin, the sound piercing in the otherwise silent room.

Erik doesn’t even bother with an answer before he bends down and scoops her up, grabbing her behind the knees as he lifts her to his chest, hooking her legs around him.

Her off guard shriek is cut off as his lips latch onto hers, muffling her little protests as he backs up until the edge of the bed hits the back of his knees, and he sits down on the bed with her in his lap.

Laying back, he wraps a hand around her neck to pull her down with him when she stops him with a hand on his chest.

“Wait Erik, slow down,” she pants trying to catch her breath, her hair wild around her face from the sudden intensity.

He cuts off her words again with pecking kisses to her lips, leaning up on his elbow as his full lips cover her mouth and quiet her.

With a hand to her back he flips them over, pushing her knees up and apart on either side of his waist and sinking his body down in between her legs.

He moves his face into the crook of her neck, his skillful tongue snaking out to lick and swirl all over the skin there, reaching up to push her camera out of the way and onto the bed.

She starts whining and grinding herself up against his stomach, feeling the bumpy texture of his skin rake against her barely clothed center, and he grinds with her, moving in sync with her movements.

She tosses her head back with a frustrated grunt, her nails digging into his shoulders and feeling his teeth sink into her neck.

An unfiltered moan escapes her mouth, and her breathing deepens as she falls further into the hungry lust Erik is pulling her into.

Feeling her arousal climb, he switches up their position and flips them back over again, lying back on the bed while she straddles his waist. His fingers reach for the flimsy material between her legs but she pushes his eager hand away.

“Nuh-uh, stop it you fiend.” She laughs, trying to catch her breath and fend off Erik’s wandering hands.

“We’re not here for that. You sposed to be posing for my photoshoot.” She reminds him, and he kisses his teeth, rolling his eyes as he blows out a frustrated breath.

“You forreal right now babe? How you expect me not to be all over you when you walk out the bathroom looking like a whole meal?” He asks her, fingering her robe and pulling it open a little to stare at her gorgeous frame again.

Snickering, she snatches the material away from him, covering herself back up and tying it closed. She knew the affect she had on him.

“I wore this so I could help make you feel more comfortable. Don’t think I didn’t hear your worrying ass while I was in the bathroom.” Reaching over to grab her camera again, she puts it back around her neck, hoping it doesn’t get taken off again for at least the next hour and a half.

He tries and fails to come up with an excuse before letting his head fall back against the bed, closing his eyes and taking a deep sigh, looking off to the side. Y/N sensed a serious shift in the mood, and she tucks some stray curls behind her ears before smoothing her hands over Erik’s chest.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” Her voice drops down to a whisper, and her nails scratch softly over his keloids right at his favorite spot. He turns his face back to her, grabbing her waist with one hand and lightly tracing his thumb along her tummy.

“I think I’m… a little nervous. I mean, what if I look stupid babe? I don’t wanna ruin your idea just because I can’t deliver like you want me to.” There was a touch of sadness in his eyes accompanied by something else she recognized, although he rarely showed it. Fear.

Getting off his lap, she lays on the bed, turning on her side to face him. Reaching up to brush a few dreads out of his eyes, she takes his face in her hand, turning him so he can look at her.

“You could never look stupid baby. Not to me. And especially not with this.” He holds her gaze, mind working overtime to try and convince himself to believe her words. It may have been just a photo shoot, but to him, it was deeper than that. He was so vulnerable when it came to her, and he was afraid that one day she’d figure out that he would never be enough. That he didn’t fit in her world. Even if it was something as simple as taking pictures.

Her brows wrinkled at the uncertainty lining his face, annoyance scratching at the back of her brain at whatever, or whoever, had led him to believe that he had to second guess himself when it came to what they had. As if he hadn’t been one of the best things to happen to her, a fact his actions reminded her of every single day.

Sitting up on her elbow, she leans forward and places a kiss on his lips, letting herself linger there as she enjoyed the sensuality of it. She’d been so busy lately they hadn’t had the time to enjoy the simplicity of each others presence, and it showed in Erik’s hesitancy. If he needed to be reminded of just how strong her feelings were for him, she had no problem letting him know.

Pulling back, she rests her head on his chest, him having laid back down flat on his back. The lines of worry that were previously decorating his face had dissolved back into the smooth brown skin, a sated look replacing it. The kiss had worked.

“You know I love you, right?” She peeks up at the curve of his jawline, enjoying the view she had of the curly black hair peppering his chin as her fingers played in it. His lips twitched into a smile as he opens his mouth to answer.

“Yes, I know.”

“But you also know that I’m in love with you, right?”

She felt his chest tighten underneath her with the breath he held, not expecting her words. She lets him take a moment to digest it, watching as he licks his lips and swallows.

After a few beats, his breathing returns to normal, and he tilts his neck up to look down at her.

“Forreal?”

She smiles. “Yes, I am. Unconditionally.” She lets her finger trace along the outline of his jaw, up to the lobe of his ear, massaging it soothingly between the pads of her fingers. “I’ve never felt what I feel with you with any other person. It scares me sometimes, knowing just how powerless I am about my feelings when it comes to you.” A twitch overcomes her soft smile, and she bites her lip, burying her head in his tummy to hide her face from him.

He feels a small leak of wetness touch his navel, and he gently lifts her face, pulling her up to him and cradling her, chin resting atop her head and her chin tucked into his neck. He rubs at her back with large circles, stopping every few moments to give her a tight squeeze, wanting her to feel safe.

She gives a small sniffle, reaching up to wipe at the bottom of her nose.

“Hey,” he bends his neck down, pushing her curls back from her face and wiping away a droplet beneath her eye with his thumb.

“Why the tears, huh? Tell me.” He whispers his soft command at her. He kisses the top of her head, giving her time to steady her breath and clear her throat.

“I’m just….so happy.” She looks up at him and places her warm palm at his cheek, an emotional smile on her lips.

“You make me feel really happy. And safe. And loved.” As she continues talking the tears return, pricking at the corner of her eyes and she rushes to continue.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been loved the way you love me. It’s the realest thing I’ve ever felt, and it scares me. Cuz I don’t wanna lose you.” Tears fall and stream her face, but she wipes them away quickly as she grips Erik behind the neck, pulling herself closer to him.

“And I don’t want you to think I’ll ever want to. Erik, you’re everything I could’ve ever asked for and so much more. Please never doubt that.”

He blinked, pupils wide and mouth a little open in shock as he stares down at her. She did it. He didn’t know how, but she managed to read him perfectly, saying all the right things at just the right time. Squashing all the anxiety and fear he felt just a moment ago.

And then he remembered the studio rooms. The portraits hung delicately and intricately along every wall, the decor picked out just right for each room to help tell a story without using any words.

Behind her camera or not, she had the ability see into people. It’s why she was so amazing at what she did.

Erik feels a wave of emotion come over him as he looks into her eyes, and his heart swells at the feel of her wrapped in his arms. He leans forward, closing his eyes and angling his face to press a slow sweet kiss to her lips, holding her face in his hands and savoring the moment. He lets his tongue peek into her mouth playfully a few times, licking at her top lips before fully engulfing himself in the kiss.

They both get lost in each other, gripping and pulling at one another as they try to get as close as possible. Y/N winds up on top of him, straddling his legs and grinding her hips into him as she kisses him feverishly. He holds her waist with one arm, his other hand roaming over her body, stopping to squeeze at her breasts.

Suddenly he pulls his mouth away, stilling her hips.

“Wait,” he stops her.

She pauses, her breathing still heavy from kissing him.

Cupping her face in his hands, he strokes both of her cheeks with his thumbs, leaning up to press his forehead to hers.

“I’m in love with you, too. You know that, right?”

A bright smile spreads her lips, and she bites her lip, nodding.

“I know.”

He returns her grin, pressing another kiss to her lips.

“Good. Now get ya sexy little ass up and grab your camera. These pictures not gonna take themselves.”

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Warnings: Softboi! Erik, Fluff, Anxiousness

#erik killmonger #erik killmonger x reader #erik killmonger x black!reader #thehomiefics #bp #black panther fandom #black panther #black panther fanfiction #i hope the ending wasn't wack i was a little distracted writing it.

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elizabethemerald · 4 years

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Family Janus and Dame Lake

@im-the-king-of-the-ocean and anon. Your requests for Barbmura have been combined. Body guard AU and historical AU. I hope you enjoy!!

I noticed that you were taking Barbmura prompts, so how about some sort of historical AU?

if you're game for barbmura prompts, how about them in some kind of royalty/bodyguard au (I've been on a kick for those lately)? I'll happily pass the torch on to you too :D I don't want to be done with the barbmura ship forever, but I just need to do something different for a while

The year is 1926. Prohibition is in full effect. In attempt to curb national debauchery the consumption, sale and importing of alcohol has been banned. But the common people still want to enjoy their vices. So the crime families have risen to power, by supplying alcohol. Some of the families are new, some are old, and some...are very old.

Doctor Barbara Lake walks home from a long day of working to help the sick and the poor. Her work is exhausting, but satisfying. There are few things in the world, other than her son, that she loves more than helping those in need. Its why she became a doctor. And it’s why when she finds a man outside her house, grievously injured she calls her son out to help her drag him into the house.

His wounds are severe, and she can tell at a glance that they are related to the city’s criminal underbelly. He has multiple gunshots and a stab wound. Even though she knows he must be with the mafia, she still fulfills her oath and cares for him.

Her son, Jim, helps her stitch the man’s injuries, carefully angling the light so she can see what she’s doing. When there is a knock at the door she leaves him to watch over the man. At the door are more men from the mafia. A rival family. She bars them entrance to their home and when they try to force their way past her, she rebuffs them with her uncle’s rifle. She will not have her hard work on healing this man undone.

It is shortly after they depart that there is another knock at her door. This time she grabs the rifle first. It’s only the tired, pained voice of the man on her table that stops her. He recognizes the voices at the door.

Barbara opens the door to find a short and stout man with a heavy accent. And a tall woman, with black hair cut into a bob, she’s Japanese if Barbara would guess. Together the two of them help the injured man into their car. As they leave she hears one of them address the hawk nosed man, with gray hair coming in at his temples as Don, and she realizes how serious this is.

The next day an attempt is made on Barbara’s life. The same mobsters who had tried to force their way into her home the previous night return. They aim to finish their attempt on the Don’s life, and if they can’t find him, kill anyone who helped him. The rifle is too long to bring up quick and is knocked out of her hands.

Her life is saved by the timely arrival of the lady who helped her patient to the car. She comes bearing a generous donation to the clinic Barbara works in. A sign of gratitude from the Don for saving his live. Of course like any good member of the Family she’s always armed. Her Thompson makes quick work of the two assailants. Barbara is horrified by the two men killed at her door, but the raven haired woman pulls her away, makes a call to her cleaner, and then volunteers for the doctor’s protection detail.

Barbara is happy that by the time Jim is home from school there is no trace of the blood shed. She is less happy about the two mafios now hanging around her house.

“My name is Ms. Nomura.” The woman who had saved her introduces herself. “We’ll be here to protect you no matter what.”

“My name is Mr. Nuñez, but you can call NotE.” Her companion says. He looks young, like he could almost be younger than Jim, but he drinks and smokes and swears like a sailor already.

“Mr. Naughty?” Barbara asks, trying to wrap her head around what’s happening.

“Sure. Until Gunmar’s goons decide to leave well enough alone, we’ll be here to keep you and ya boy safe.” He says.

Barbara tries to argue, but Ms. Nomura explains.

“The Janus Family takes things like this very seriously. You saved the Don’s life. Now the family owes you a debt. We’re here to ensure that debt is paid.”

“Fine.” Barbara huffs. “But don’t think that you are going to keep me cooped up in here. There are people at my clinic that need help. And I didn’t become a doctor to become embroiled in a mafia war!”

Barbara is slowly getting used to her new daily normal. Ms. Nomura shadows her to work then stays nearby keeping an eye out. Then they return to her home together. She still doesn’t like her son and his friend Toby spending so much time around NotE, nor does she like Otto, the Family’s “fixer.” But she finds Ms. Nomura’s company to be pleasant enough.

Despite her ties to the Janus Family, Ms. Nomura is an avid art enthusiast. She seems to know every bit of history about every piece in the local art museum. Barbara strongly considers showing the other woman her own paintings.

Before she gets a chance to do so, the Darklands Family makes its second attempt. Barbara and Nomura are walking home from the clinic when a car pulls up besides them. Nomura pulls Barbara behind her drawing her Tommy from her jacket. After a short hail of bullets, returned by Nomura, the car speeds away.

Nomura drags Barbara off the streets, not pausing until they are safe in her home. Jim jumps up from the book he’s reading to help them inside. Barbara has a small graze on her arm and Nomura one on her leg. Nomura also had a much series wound in her abdomen.

NotE calls for back up while Jim and Barbara see to Nomura’s injuries. It’s not long before Otto Scaarbach and Gladys Groe arrive with a small troop. Walter Strickler, Don of the Janus Family comes with them. His fury is something to see. Not only was someone under the Family’s protection injured, but a member of the Family itself is laying on the kitchen table her blood soaking into the hardwood. The only person angrier than Walter is Jim, seeing his mom hurt boils the boy’s blood.

The Janus Family prepares to hit the mattresses. This is a call for war. The Family cannot rest until revenge is had, blood for blood.

Barbara can’t pay attention to them. All she has eyes for is her patient. She knew she would be dead if it weren’t for the woman in front of her. Her blue eyes shine in the light as Barbara stitches her up.

“So what do you think?” Barbara asks.

“It’s beautiful.” Ms. Nomura’s green eyes are wide as she takes in the painting. “Ms. Lake, you have quite the eye for colors!”

The painting isn’t her best work, but it fills her heart with joy to hear Nomura likes it. It captures a scene she has seen only in a book, the cherry blossoms of Japan. From the look on the other woman’s face, Barbara can tell this is the exact taste of home that she needs.

Ms. Nomura turns away for a moment, wincing as she twists her stomach. She’s healing quickly, but she still has some small twinges of pain, now weeks after her injury. She pulls a small package out from her bag.

“Ms. Lake, I got something for you as well.” She handed over the package. “In thanks for your caring touch.”

Barbara opens the package and gasps. The small urn, brilliantly painted, perfectly matches her eyes. She reaches out and intwines her fingers with the other woman’s.

“Ms. Nomura… I-”

“Please, Ms. Lake, call me Zelda.”

Barbara giggled a little.

“In that case you need to call me Barbara.”

They look at each other for a moment, each staring deeply into the other’s eyes.

“Ok, Zelda.” Barbara whispers breathily.

“I can’t believe you dragged my son into your fight!” Barbara screams.

“I didn’t drag him anywhe-” Zelda’s sentence is cut off as she ducks a plate that is hurled at her head. “Please Barbara listen to me!”

Barbara ignores her plea in favour grabbing for another plate.

“I’ve done nothing but help your precious family! And in thanks I’ve been shot at! My home’s been invaded. And now my son is kidnapped! He’s been taken by the Darklands! Zelda, how did you expect me to react to this information?”

“Barbara, please!”

“GET OUT!” Barbara screams. “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! And don’t you ever think of coming back!”

Nomura ducks under another plate and bolts for the door. She turns back just in time to see Barbara grab the blue urn, the present she had given her, and pull her arm back to throw it. Nomura quickly steps outside and closes the door. After a few seconds the sound of something shattering within echoes the shattering of Zelda’s heart. She leans against the door for a second, slow tears falling down her face. Inside she can hear Barbara sobbing against the other side of the door.

Zelda straightens and pulls away from the door. She steels her spine there can be only one course of action now.

Walter had called Gunmar’s attack against her personal and had ordered a full out war with the rival family. But he doesn’t know the meaning of the word personal. Zelda snarls as she strides away. She is going to rain an ungodly hell on the Darklands.

The heavy rain fall pours down. The puddles run red with blood. Barbara Lake, doctor and mother of one, does her best to staunch the bleeding. Her tears blend with rain running down her face. The Thompson, its barrel still smoking from the fire fight, lays discarded to the side.

“Please stay with me Zelda!” Barbara cries.

Zelda struggles to stay awake. The world seems to be fuzzy at the edges. All she can see are the blue eyes, filled with tears, looking down on her. The war was over. Gunmar dead. Strickler gone. Jim safe. Maybe it was time for the soldiers to go as well. Zelda always considered herself a soldier.

“Zelda, I can’t lose you! Not again.” Barbara begs. She fumbles with her purse one handed, while she tries to maintain pressure with her other. Nomura assumes she is reaching for bandages, but instead she pulls out a small blue urn she recognizes.

“You fixed it?” She asks softly.

“I never broke it.” Barbara laughs wetly past her crying. “I couldn’t stand to lose it. It means so much to me.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you Zelda!” Barbara does the only thing she can think of, the only thing she’s wanted to do for far too long. She kisses her. Zelda can feel Barbara’s warm lips against her own, and the rain falling down around her as the world fades to black.

Barbara stands alone next to the simple stone wall. In the yard before her, head stones stretch out as far as she can see. The graveyard always fills her with a sense of wistful sadness. Maybe she will create a painting. Try to capture the feeling inside her. She breaths deeply, trying to commit every detail to memory, so she can recreate them later.

“What’s taking so long back there?”

Barbara turns at the voice and smiles.

“I just had an idea for a painting and needed time to visualize it in my head.”

She hurries forward and catches up with her companion who waits for her at the corner.

“Ms. Lake, we are out for a lovely stroll and here you are admiring graveyards!”

“Zelda, how many times do I have to remind you to call me Barbara?”

“A few more times won’t hurt.” Zelda smiles and leans in for a kiss. “I don’t have many opportunities left. Soon I will have to call you Mrs. Nomura!”

“It’s Lake-Nomura. I’m going to use both of our names.”

“That works for me.”

Barbara grabs Zelda’s face and kisses her deeply. “Here’s to us, forever.”

In time their strolls brings them back to the small house they own. Their kissing continues on the couch. On the wall is a painting of cherry blossoms and on the table under neath it, a bright blue urn.

#zelda nomura #Barbara Lake #barbmura #mafia au #jim lake junior #walter strickler #Trollhunters #tales of arcadia #Listen I am but a simple gay #I love two women #and the way they love each other #I hope you enjoy!

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musicnoots · 5 years

Text

Imagine

Joe Liebgott/Reader

Prompt “I can’t sleep, can I stay here?” requested by anon

Synopsis: You and Joe imagine life back home while fighting the war.

Tags: @gottapenny @croatianbagudna @dustyjjumpwings @higgles123 @bandofmarvels @wexhappyxfew @medievalfangirl @those-dusty-jump-wings @curraheev @junojelli

Shivering under the Hagenau cold, you brought your hands to wrap around your body, knees up to your chest. If someone saw you here at this hour, they would call you crazy, and usher you back inside the house, but the cold wind blowing through the night soothed your mind. You never thought you’d be willing to sit outside in the cold after Bastogne—when there was a nice, comfy bed waiting for you upstairs, you were outside in the cold with nothing but racing thoughts and open eyes.

It wasn’t the general idea of dying that kept you up at night—you had gone through and survived Bastogne, and you were practically invincible by now, too stubborn to die. You had survived the toughest part of the journey, but who knew it was the tough part that would take hold of your head and implant themselves into your memories. That was what kept you up this fine night in Hagenau, no longer in the face of danger but reminiscing it.

“Sergeant L/N.” Your head turned to the sound of the voice, sighing in relief when you saw it was just your boyfriend. He took a seat right next to you on the steps of the front patio, shoulders touching and radiating his warmth to you. “Thought I kissed you goodnight twenty minutes ago.”

“Can’t sleep.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, not really knowing what the feeling in the pit of your stomach really meant. Maybe it was guilt—the first time you and Joe see each other since him leaving for HQ to be a translator, you tell him you want to sleep separately just to clear your head, but you end up on the steps of the house in silence.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, rubbing it comfortingly and pressing a soft kiss to your temple. Joe always knew what you needed before you could even tell him. He was always comforting and supportive when you needed him, both ready to beat up the knucklehead who made you cry and to give kisses until the sun rose from the horizon.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, and you simply sighed and shrugged.

“Nothing.”

“You know, you’re a great soldier but a shit liar,” he smiled, and you nudged his shoulder. Joe really did know you better than you knew yourself. “Tell me, what’s goin’ on? What’s botherin’ you?”

“A lot,” you admitted. “Been thinkin’ about home. When I come back, they’re gonna be asking me about what I saw during the war, and I...I don’t know how to explain to them.”

Joe didn’t immediately respond, he just sank into the question along with you, coming to the fact that he, too, would have to explain to his relatives what he saw during the war like it was the adventure of a lifetime or the plot of an action movie.

You started to rub your arms up and down, your body shivering under the chilly weather, but really, you were just nervous and shaken up. “Y-Y’know, how am I supposed to explain to them everything I saw in—”

“Hey, let’s not think about it, okay?” Joe took your hands into his own and squeezed them tightly. “Don’t think about Bastogne, you’re not there anymore. Imagine yourself somewhere else, not here, imagine yourself in Oakland with me. Imagine us in a nice home by the Bay in Oakland, but if you don’t wanna live in Oakland, we can live in San Francisco—your call, but I still want it by the Bay.”

You smiled. “So, me, you, and your cab, by the Bay?”

“Yeah, I’m takin’ you with me after the war by the way, but imagine us there, together.” Joe smiled to himself when he thought about you living with him back home. God, he’d kill just to have that right now instead of sitting here in the middle of night. “That’s the life I wanna live when this war is over.”

“Hope you know that I’m also not opposed to you puttin’ a ring on my finger.”

“Oh, you bet. First thing I’m doin’ when we get back home is marryin’ ya. And buying this nice house I’ve been eyein’ on for a while now—I hope no one bought it.” He scooted closer and rested his head on your shoulder. “It’s a big house, a nice house. Perfect size for us and all the little Liebgotts we’re gonna have.”

“Mhm, and how many Liebgotts are we talkin’ about here? Two? Three?”

Joe paused for a minute. Did he want a normal family with two kids or an army of children with ten million mouths to feed when he gets home? “Either three or twenty, I’m not sure yet.”

Your eyes grew to the size of cherry pies. “Three or twenty? Jesus Christ, Joe.”

“I said I wasn’t sure yet! And besides, how do you expect me to stay away from you when you’re smokin’ hot?” he said, wiggling his eyebrows and you laughed, shaking your head and placing a hand on his cheek. “But just imagine it, Y/N—you and me stayin home on a rainy day in Oakland, snugglin’ on the couch with mugs of hot chocolate, and if you’re hungry I could chef you up a stir fry. Or order food, I’m kind of bad at cooking.”

“Sounds like a great husband,” you laughed.

“I know, right? The best husband in the universe, oh—and on days when I’m off from work, I could take you driving down the coast like you’ve always wanted.”

“In your cab?”

“In my cab,” he laughed. “I’ll take you to the best beaches the Bay has to offer—Alameda, Baker Beach—you don’t need to visit no Los Angeles after you’ve been to the Bay. You can just stay there with me. You don’t need to explain to anyone about what you saw during the war.”

You found yourself smiling like an idiot imagining a life with Joe after the war, even better, imagining a life with Joe when there was no war going on—how he managed to make that happen, you weren’t sure, but you wanted it to happen. “Imagine a world where there is no war, and I’m layin’ on your chest ‘til I’m asleep, and we don’t have to worry about anything. Imagine a world like that.”

Joe sat up and smiled, giving your hand a little squeeze before letting go. “I would love a world like that,” he said, kissing the top of your head and standing up. “It’s getting late, and you’re more than welcome to stay in my bed for the rest of the night.”

As much as you wanted to take his hand and get into bed with him, you couldn’t help but feel even more awake. The talk of having a life back home together was something you wanted so bad in the heat of the moment, yet you couldn’t have it.

When he leaves you to your own devices in your room, you’re sprawled out on the bed imagining nothing but a life with Joe back home. His promise to take you with him, marry you, buy a house, and do everything he promised you to do. Imagining a life where there is no war going on, and you aren’t in the bed of an abandoned house in Hagenau where you don’t have to remember everything you saw, but you’re fast asleep on Joe’s chest back in Oakland instead. That’s the life you want, but you can’t have it.

You can’t have it, but you like it to think that you could have it someday.

Twenty minutes later, you hop out of bed and pad across the hallway towards Joe’s room, opening the door with a steady hand and a shaky heart.

“I can’t sleep, can I stay here?”

Joe doesn’t hesitate to open the blankets to an empty spot next to him, and you happily jump in, falling asleep with your head on his chest, dreaming about a world where you can live in peace with him.

#band of brothers fic #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers fanfiction #band of brothers #easy company #hbo war #joe liebgott x reader #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott x reader #joseph liebgott

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im-a-goner-foryou · 6 years

Text

Babysitter! Peter / Married dad! Tony au, as per an anon's request several months overdue because I'm a piece of shit. Let me know if anyone's interested in a continuation!

It's only the first day of his new job, and already Peter's having second thoughts about the whole thing.

It's not like Harley's a problem child, or anything like that. On the contrary, the bubbly three-year-old has to be the sweetest boy Peter's had the chance of babysitting, something he's incredibly grateful for-- he shudders to think about Mrs Stark's reaction upon finding out her son broke a million-dollar house ornament while under Peter's care-- no, the issue was that the Stark residence is the most opulent estate Peter's ever seen, luxurious enough to make the glossy pictures in those modish home design magazines look frumpy in comparison. To say that Peter had been surprised to walk into the fully marbled, high ceiling, lavish parlour was an understatement; his knees actually wobbled, and he would have sunk down onto one of the many couches if they weren't clearly designer and made of pristine white leather.

Glancing down at the address on his phone screen in a panic, he entertained for the first time the idea that maybe this was all a huge mistake. "Uhm, Mrs--"

"It's just Pepper, I don't really do the whole 'Mrs Stark' thing. What is it?" Pepper interrupted, sounding more than a little tired; still, she certainly made a picture perfect image against the backdrop of the pristine mansion standing tall in a gorgeous sapphire blue dress, the boy resting on her cocked hip gazing at Peter curiously with his huge brown eyes while tugging on strands of his mother's blond hair.

"Miss Pepper," Peter immediately rushed to correct himself, feeling the tips of his ears burn at the mild eye roll this garners him. "I was just-- Uh." Wondering if this is just one big screw up, because there's no way a family this affluent will pick a mere high schooler off a babysitting website rather than a professional caretaker. "Hoping to go over the whole arrangement again, just to be sure?" he finished lamely.

"Oh. It's fairly simple, I thought I was clear enough on the phone earlier." Frowning down at her wristwatch as though thinking about the other more productive errands she'd rather be doing than talk to some daft teenager, Pepper sighed, "you'll look after Harley five days a week, provide the basic babysitting service, drop him off and pick him up from daycare; I'll text you all of the info you need about his feeding schedule and nap times later. Tony comes home every day around eight-- of course, if he'll just take more time off work we wouldn't have to deal with hiring a caretaker in the first place," the last sentence venomous under her breath.

Peter had blinked nervously, unsure how or if he's supposed to respond but before he could decide, an armful of toddler is thrusted upon him. Gathering up her purse, Pepper then instructed primly, "well, I'm going to be busy tonight, so if you have any questions just message Tony."

And just like that she turnt and left with a flick of her ponytail, heels clicking sharply against the across the sparkling linoleum-- and before Peter could point out that he didn't have her husband's number.

Mind still reeling from this turn of events, it was only Harley's vigorous squirming in his arms that snapped him out of his daze. Looking down a little helplessly at the wiggling boy he mused, "so, Harles. You like cupcakes?"

............

...Which turnt out to be another one of Peter's bad ideas, as evident by the sticky situation- literally- he's now in, vanilla icing smeared all over the beautiful marble countertops along with flour and powdered sugar and god knows what else; Peter nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to tidy the kitchen up to its once spotless state-- which was not an easy feat (who knew a single three year old could cause this extent of damage in those very few seconds Peter had taken his eyes off him to go preheat the oven?)

He was just bending over the island table to scrub at a particularly stubborn stain when he hears the distinct clearing of a throat right behind him, and the high pitched shriek that slips past his lips is something he'll vehemently deny later on.

"Woah there," a voice speaks up, unmistakably male from the deep intonation of his words. "Did I scare you? I'm sorry," the man adds, and for some absurd reason Peter feels liquid heat pool in his belly at just that silky low baritone alone, tinged slightly with amusement--

It's only then does the teen finally register the compromising position he's currently in, standing on his tiptoes and leaning over the counter so his ass is arched high in the air... right in front of his employer.

This first day is not turning out in his favour.

Feeling himself blush to the tips of his ears, Peter scrambles to stand upright once more, whirling around while holding his breath in anticipation of the annoyed expression he'll surely be greeted with-- but what he didn't expect to see is a devilishly handsome man, dressed in a three-button suit that fits so perfectly snug around those broad shoulders and firm chest it should be illegal; and for the second time in just a few hours Peter actually feels himself go weak at the knees once more, because holy shit this fine specimen of a man was not in his job description when he very well should be; if he had known how fucking hot Harley's dad is he would have brought his inhaler, or something.

"Hey, you okay?" the man- Tony, a dazed part of Peter's mind helpfully supplies- asks, chocolate dark eyes examining him in a way that leaves him in serious danger of swooning. "You look a little pale... Peter, isn't it?" The boy only nods dumbly in affirmation, but Tony smiles warmly. "I'm Harley's father. Nice to meet you."

Brain finally catching up, Peter blurts, "I know," before realising just how bad that sounds and backpedalling quickly. "Wait-- no, I just meant I already knew-- that you're Harley's dad, I mean... Uh, Mrs Stark told me earlier... I-I'm Peter by the way, shit you already knew that," he babbles, cheeks flushing hotter with every squeaky word that leaves his mouth until he's sure that he's a cherry red by the time Tony raises a hand to stop him.

"Okay, okay! Slow down there, kiddo," he chuckles, and fuck even his laugh sounds so incredibly sexy it's unfair, Peter's just a teenaged boy with daddy issues; he doesn't stand a chance. "Give your old man here some time to catch up, will ya?"

"Sorry," Peter instinctively says, or squeaks, more like; tucking his chin into his chest his shoulders fold forward in mortification, painfully aware of how ridiculous he must seem to the older man. Get it together, Parker. You're being pathetic.

His mental beration abruptly cuts off, however, as Tony begins to shrug off his suit jacket, dress shirt underneath stretching thin over his biceps as he drapes it over the back of a chair and holy shit, holy shit the urge to just reach out and trace over those defined muscles with his fingers is so overwhelming Peter has to grab at the edge of the countertop. "You don't mind, do you? I've had a long day at work is all," Tony says apologetically.

Nope. He does not mind at all, not one bit. "It-- it's okay, Mr Stark."

That earns him another warm smile, hardened lines across the man's face deepening along with the crinkling at the edges of his eyes. "Oh, you're sweet." --Peter actually feels his legs threaten to buckle underneath him at that-- then Tony's eyes drag almost lazily over his body, and his lips curve into a roguish grin as he adds, "...and that cute little apron you've got on there certainly helps your image."

Fuck. Oh, god, until then he'd forgotten the apron he had found and hastily thrown on earlier-- and not just any apron, but a frilly soft pink one complete with a lacy hem-- not unlike the ones housewives donned back in the nineties or something. Peter actually buries his face in his hands with a groan then, so overcome with humiliation. "I'm sorry, I just found it in one of the drawers..."

"It's alright, Pep never uses it anyways," Tony says dismissively, his next words pitching lower into one of a drawl that makes Peter shiver. "...Plus it looks much better on you, sweetheart."

Peter peeks out shyly from behind his fingers then, only to gasp; for the look on Tony's face that greets him can only be described as hungry, dark with unmistakable lust and something else he can't quite decipher but leaves him breathless for more-- the combination of both that gaze pinned heavy on him and the use of that pet name is enough to draw something akin to a keening whine from the back of his throat that he quickly tries to smoother into a cough. "Really?" he mumbles, hiding his pleased flush as best as he can.

Tony grins knowingly. "Oh, for sure. I've never seen anyone look prettier in an apron than you, sweetheart," he purrs, closing up whatever remaining distance between them in two confident strides; Peter gasps, automatically backing up until his back hits the edge of the island table, the older man effectively pinning him there. Staring up into darkening eyes through fluttering lashes, Peter draws his bottom lip in between his teeth- nervous habit- and hopes that Tony won't catch the wild thudding of his hear against his ribcage at their close proximity; the man's expensive cologne fills his senses, makes his head spin with pure want and has him subconsciously licking at his lips.

Tony's next words come out more gravelly and deeper than before. "You've got a little bit of icing on your face," he grunts, and before Peter has the chance to respond he's reaching forward to swipe at his flushed skin with a calloused thumb. Breath hitching at the tender touch, Peter sways on his feet as the huge palm cradles his cheek for a split second-- then just like that it's over and Tony's stepping back, the loss of him enough to make the younger teen whimper pitifully.

"All clean now," Tony mutters, sounding decidedly more strained than a few moments ago; Peter's no better with his raggedly falling breaths, and the tent rapidly forming at the front of his skinny jeans-- maybe wearing the apron's not such a bad decision, after all.

"Thanks, Mr Stark," he squeaks, and he swears the older man's eyes darkened at that; gaze darting away from the intensity of that stare, Peter focuses instead on the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. Pepper should be home soon--

Shit. A fresh wave of guilt crashes over Peter for the first time that night at the thought of Pepper-- Tony's wife. How could he be so stupid? Mr Stark's a married man, for Christ's sake-- not to mention a father as well, to a child Peter's supposed to be looking after. He's here to babysit, not be swept off his feet by a rich older man, as appealing as the second option sounds.

And yet-- the way Mr Stark had looked at him earlier, gaze almost predatory as he crowded him in...

Shaking his head as though that would get rid of his thoughts, Peter hurriedly unties the apron and stammers, "I, uh, I should go--"

"Wait. You don't have my number, do you?" Tony frowns, grabbing his forearm lightly to stop him from reaching for his backpack. When Peter shakes his head no, the man reaches into the breast pocket of his discarded suit to pull out a business card. "Here. Just in case... you know," he shrugs. "You have questions about Harley, or whatever."

"Yeah, about-- Harley," Peter echoes, taking the card; their fingers brush against each other as he does so, and he can't help but shiver at the contact; he thinks he catches a small grin out of the corner of his eye. "It was nice meeting you, Mr Stark."

And there's another one of those smiles; Peter feels his stomach flutter again. Stupid. "Pleasure's all mine. I'll see you soon, Parker," Tony says smoothly, shooting him a quick wink as he releases his hold. Peter practically flies out of the front door on trembling legs-- taking care not to crash into any glass ornaments on the way, of course.

This new turn of events definitely add another compliation to his job, that's for sure; and yet Peter walks home that day with his heart hammering in his chest, cheeks still tinged pink... and with a giddy smile on his lips.

#starker #peter x tony #drabble #au #babysitter! peter #married dad! tony #anon request

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dreamcity-rawr · 6 years

Text

Cherry Kiss || Renjun

Character: Huang Renjun

Genre: idol!renjun + fluff, uwu, soft, heart fluttering Plot: in which you are an idol guest on the show: lipstick prince 3 and meet Renjun, who gets very focused on your lips. Length: 845 words Requested!

The minute Renjun walks into the make-up room, you take another deep breath. It is your very first time on a variety show without your other members and you couldn’t stop shaking, scared you’d mess something up and embarrass yourself. For the past few minutes, the guys came in to do your make up, you were a whole train-wreck, shaking with nervousness.

But somehow, the gentle smile Renjun walked in with made you feel a little more hopeful of a less awkward time. “Hi, I’m Renjun of NCT DREAM, I’m in charge of your lipstick today”. You smile back at him, reintroducing yourself again, too.

“It’s your first time on a variety show, right?” he asks as he walks towards the table with all the make-up. “Yea...I’m really nervous” you say out of reflex, to which he chuckles, “Don’t be, it’s my first variety show too, if that makes you feel any better”.

“Do you have a lipstick shade you want to try on?” he asks, looking you straight in the eyes while holding up the few lipsticks for you to see. “Hm...surprise me” you say back, a lot more relaxed now thanks to his considerate small talk.

Renjun ends up choosing a shade named Cherry Kiss. You watch as he takes the brush and swipes against the lipstick. He hesitates a little before bending down to your eye-level. Your breath hitches at how close he gets. Unlike the others, who stood a little taller than you when applying make-up, Renjun was literally eye-to-eye with you, making your heart beat uncontrollably.

You can smell his very faint and sweet cologne, which surprisingly manages to calm your senses just a little bit. But the minute he speaks, you feel his minty breath lightly fan over your face and you stiffen again.

“I’ll start now” he breathes, still standing just as close and you nod lightly. You feel as his fingertips naturally touch your chin, gently tilting it up so he has better access.

The minute the brush touches your lower lip, you jump a tiny bit. Renjun widens his eyes, stepping back in concern, “Did I hurt you?”. You shake your head at his sensitivity, how could he possibly hurt you when he barely even touches the lip. “No no no, I was just...a little surprised”

You could hear the others making comments on your adorable reaction from the other room and you laugh awkwardly, which makes Renjun laugh as well. “Please don’t tease her” he says in your defense, making your heart flutter.

“Just tell me if you feel uncomfortable, okay?” he bends back down, indicating he’s going to continue and you nod. When he starts applying it this time, you’re not as shaky. But you don’t know where to look. You awkwardly look around the room, sometimes closing your eyes, but your eyes somehow always find their way towards Renjun.

You watch as he works with so much focus and concentration. It amazes you. You thought he was just as nervous as you given it was his first time,too but right now, he looks so professional and confident. But the way he is staring so intently at your lips really made you nervous.

“Can you open your lips a little?” His eyes look up at you, catching you staring at him red-handed. You separate your lips a little and he looks back down. Each time the brush strokes over you lips, you lightly and very slowly inhale or exhale, which he notices.

“You can breathe normally. The guys will kill me if I make you pass out on set” he says and you chuckle. This caused him to start chuckling as well. In a second, the both of you are giggling, making it hard for Renjun to continue.

“You’re having too much fun there....the time is ticking!” the show host jokes from the outside and you both try to collect yourselves back. Renjun occasionally uses his own finger to wipe away any mistakes and the little skin contact makes your heart beat out of control. you just sit there, hoping he can’t hear your heartbeat. Finally he finishes up your lipstick and stands back straight up, eyes still glued to your lips.

“Your lips are really soft,...and the lipstick looks stunning on you” he smiles widely when he steps back. You smile back and can’t help but blush at his comment. “And they do smell like cherries too” he says, this time, you could notice the way his eyes flickered back down to your lips.

You loved how comfortable he made you feel with his constant small talk and smiles. He did send your heart into a frenzy but you liked every minute of it. At the end of the day, you still chose him as the winner. It warmed your heart to see him that proud of something so small. And you notice how his eyes flicker down to your lips every now and then when you’re talking throughout the rest of the show. And Cherry Kiss officially became your favourite lipstick shade.

author’s note i know the lips-staring is more of a jaemin thing...but ya know, I kinda really wanted to write this scenario out when I included it in my last idol!nctdream post and now that you’ve sent in your lovely request, there it is...a little too long, tbh, but both anon and renjunnie deserves it okayyy! Thank you so so much for showing interest in my posts~ ♥️ I love you

#nct #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct oneshot #nct 2018 #nct dream #huang renjun #renjun #nct renjun #nct dream fluff #nct dream soft

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kinfoodie · 5 years

Note

Bit of a weird request, but one of my types is a flying winged creature from the dawn of creation. He's mute and more bird like, and eats both fruits and meats. Anything that may work for him? I also have an otter type who would love some treats to deal with the summer heat! Thank you so much! From, elkhound-go-boof

Hey anon!

I thought on it, and seemed to lean - off of intuition more than anything - towards leftover meats/fruits. Kind of like a scavenger, that’s the vibe I got from your explanation. Now, of course, I could be wrong but I did make a list based off of that. I also made a little list of snacks for your otter type that are summer oriented! (Six for the winged creature, four for the otter) :)

Winged Creature:

Corned Beef & Mini Cabbage Egg Rolls

Leftover Steak & Quinoa Bowl

Classic Roast Turkey (or Chicken) a la King

Pot Roast Lasagna

Mini Cherry Almond Cakes

Strawberry Shortcakes

Otter:

Fruit Pospsicles

Strawberry Coconut Milk Pops

Watermelon Pizza

Healthy Fruit Snacks

There ya go anon! I hope you enjoy! I kind of went the fruity/soft route since the majority of what otters seem to eat (that I’ve read) is on the softer side. I don’t know if you would have preferred fishy snacks but I don’t know how well those can beat the heat - maybe some snack sushi? lol Anyway! Let me know if you wanted something else and I’ll do my best! Cheers and happy eating~! <3

#otherkin #winged #creature #birdkin #bird of preykin #otterkin #kin food #kin blog #ask #anon #request #therian #mythical

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alitheamateur · 6 years

Text

Perfect Patient

Anon asked: After the fight he ends up in the hospital. Well and he’s grumpy as always but doesn't mind the company of this one particular nurse.

Hope you like it, love! And hugs for being my first request, as well!

Warnings: Language. Suggestive language/behavior. Slightly rough flirting. Patient/nurse relationship.

Word Count: 2,230

Characters: Tommy Conlon/Reader

Perfect Patient

It was the first 12-hour shift of your weekly 3 day rotation, and you weren’t even fully recovered from last weeks’ events. Nursing school had prepared you sufficiently for most situations where medical procedures are concerned, but there was no way to properly equip you for the sarcastic joys of an impossibly problematic patient. Your particular hall of the hospital had been fully stocked with arrogant, nagging individuals lately, and you most definitely had your fill. You’d think night-shift would make things easier, assuming most of the cliental is sleeping soundly in their rail-lined beds. But since you had been placed on evening duties after finally graduating with a nursing degree a short year ago, you could whole-heartedly assure differently.

You drug your feet out of the elevator, blonde bun bobbing with your steps and arrived at the nurses’ station on the 5th floor to relieve Amy, the veteran day-shift employee. “Aims, you sure you don’t just wanna pull a double tonight? I think I can see it in your eyes your itching to stay another 12.”

“Not a chance, sweetheart. I can’t handle another second with 503, much less another entire shift. You better take a long sip of whatever is in that cup, and for your sake I hope it’s alcoholic,” Amy huffed as she hurriedly gathered her smock coat, and purse from beneath the desk.

“Goodie. Thanks for the warning, I guess. Got anything else for me?”

Amy informed you on the medication changes, food restrictions, and any other crucial modifications to your full floor, and you scanned over the patient list while clipping on your plastic, worn name tag. Next on the checklist would be making your first rounds to check in on each and every name, and make sure they were notified of the shift change you had made with Amy. But, referring back to her heeded warning about whatever lurked in room 503, you saved that occasion for your last stop.

After refilling any jugs with fresh water and assisting the recovering open-heart patient with the television remote, it was time to meet the doom lying in your last room on the hall. Thomas Conlon, 31, was recovering from surgery where Dr. Patton had repaired a shattered orbital bone, and was scheduled for release in two days. Which to your lucky realization meant he would be here the entire work week for you to suffer with. You wondered how bad it could really be while massaging a drop of sanitizer into your cold hands, then cracking your neck in preparation before entering.

The man laid comfortably in the raised bed, feet crossed at the ankles outside of the sheet, and one mountainous, muscled arm tucked beneath his head. The mirror of the open-doored bathroom was painted with steam from the shower you concluded he had taken after assessing the damp, disheveled hairdo he was sporting. The mystery man shifted to raise up a bit when you rounded the corner and became visible to him, then ran a hand over the auburn whiskers of his cheeks.

“Hey there, Mr. Conlon. How are you feeling tonight?” I professionally inquired to the patient, although somewhat sincerely taken aback by the handsome mystery of him. His one unscathed eye followed my every step to his bedside as he decreased the volume of whatever sporting event he’d been engrossed in on tv.

He cleared his throat, and you accidentally locked eyes with him just as his tongue licked over a bubblegum shaded, pink bottom lip. A thin, n-neck cotton tee that seemed almost too small squeezed his torso sinfully, and black, peeping ink drawings starkly contrasted his swelled chest. The mound of ointment stained gauze placed over his left eye didn’t hinder his glorious looks in the slightest, and the minor facial bruising around his nose only made him more dangerously attractive.

“Tommy… My uh, my names’ Tommy. I can’t handle all that Mr. Conlon shit. And life is just a damn rose garden if ya’ take away this bloodshot eye, food that tastes worse than what I’ve seen dogs eat, and this short ass bed that I don’t fit in.

Ah, and now exhibit A in Amy’s list of warnings. He wore a constant scowl, and the wrinkle between his brows looked exhausted from the constant strain of anger it displayed.

“Well now, that’s not any way to be, Thomas. Just two more days, and we’ll be out of your hair. But until then, I’m gonna need to take a look at that eye.” You stretched on the tip of your toes to garb a pair of latex gloves to shield your hands before observing the mans’ wound. “And if you’re real good for me, I may just have a lollipop for ya’ somewhere in my pocket.”

Gentle sarcasm and playful banter had become the best mechanism for dealing with such unpleasant individuals at work, and Tommy seemed that one who may even be able to play the game right back, so you rolled the dice and winked at your little joke.

“What’s ya’ name? I ain’t seen you since I been here. I feel like ya’ owe me that before you go diggin’ at a poor man’s wounds, Miss…..” He left the remark open ended in strategic efforts to catch your name, and bit his lip to stifle a wicked smile.

“It’s Y/N. Now, tilt your head back for me, and I promise to be easy with you.”

Tommy scooched lower in the bed, seeing the way your petite form struggled to get a decent look at his incisions, and his shirt raised to reveal his lower, very firm abdomen. The scorching temperature of his exhales whispered gently along your neck, and the flyaway hairs that fell from your updo tickled you. The concoction of sensations sent thick chills sailing over your entire body.

“If that lollipop you got down in ya’ pocket tastes as good as you smell, I’ll take two, please.” He spoke darkly, never looking anywhere in the room but your exposed neck, and chest as you dangled over him in dutiful examination. You could feel the slight weight from your ‘RN’ badge gently tugging open the neckline of your top, but you naughtily brushed off the urge pull away.

“Amy told me you’ve been giving some trouble the last couple days, and I can definitely see she wasn’t lying.”

“Oh, this ain’t trouble, sweetheart. I can promise ya’ that. I can sure give some trouble if that’s what you’re askin’ though.” Tommy’s hand slid stealthily out of sight, unbeknownst to you, and suddenly his thick, bruised fingers teased a touch up the back of your thigh, gripping at the curve of your backside. The prodding at his stitches didn’t seem to phase him on any level of pain, and your gym-toned figured seemed to be his chosen distraction.

“I sure as hell as ain’t had a pretty, smart thing like you takin’ care of me since I been here. And damn it, change is good.”

Reasonably and rightfully, you should report to mans’ advances to the high ups at the hospital. But, the overworked and underpaid, not forgetting under-laid woman in you decided to maybe dabble in a bit of cat and mouse with the hot little number under your care for the next two shifts. He was brazenly flirting, and it had been an embarrassingly long running clock since anything worth a second look had been a patient on your floor. Harmless teasing and sneaky touches wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

After discarding the sweaty, slightly blood-ridden rubber gloves into the nearest trash bin, you plugged the cool ends of a stethoscope into your ears and wriggled a hand up under Tommy’s shirt. Slightly allowing the nailed tips of your fingers to feather graze along his ribs when journeying to place the chest-piece of the device atop the hot Fahrenheit skin covering his heart. The chill-like shudder that seized up Tommy’s body under your touch brought about a peeping growth around the groin of his sweats.

“Oh my, Tommy. Your poor little heart seems to be beating out of your chest. Are you feeling alright?” You innocently lilted, although there was not a single ounce of genuine innocence lurking anywhere between the two of you.

He placed his hand over where yours lay listening to the bass thumps of his heart, trapping you there under his titillating, watchful stare. “I can feel anotha’ place pulsin’ somewhere, too. I think you should uh, maybe check it out. I feel a lil’ bit….hot, nurse Y/N.”

Within 10 minutes, you compiled that the man was crass, horny, and maybe even a little downright vile. But, it made you all the more thirsty for a dose of Tommy’s explicit manner.

He reached up to use your clipped badge as a handle to pull you closer into his lips, and you heard him hiss, “you gonna stop me?”

Before puckering to kiss you, Tommy simply went straight into a bite on your lax bottom lip. You instinctively went to close your eyes into what was coming next, but the sound of an empty saline bag sent a screaming beep from the room next door. Without as much as a single word, you went running devotedly to fulfill your workplace duties and Tommy obviously had not protested.

The next two days, room 503 always mysteriously needed the assistance of the nurse on duty when night shift rolled around. Once there was the request for a new pillow, another call had him cleverly asking if there was any way he could have a cherry lollipop brought to his room, and he even went as far as attempting to request a sponge bath. Many more visits than duly necessary were made to his room for tedious chats about what landed him under hospital care to begin with, and he hintingly pulled on the drawstrings of your scrub pants while you checked and charted his blood pressure. On the eve of his discharge, you decided against better judgment to spend your longest break of the night resting in the poorly padded recliner beside his bed.

“Why don’t you pull that curtain there, and sneak up ‘ere next to me for a minute? Ya’ favorite patient is bustin’ loose tomorrow, y’know,” he said persuasively, pulling back the sheet to offer up a tiny slot in the bed next to him.

“I think you and I both know ‘favorite patient’ is a long shot,” you chuckled through a sip from your very late-night milkshake from the cafeteria Tommy had requested you bring up. He had been mostly sleeping through the daytime hours so he could sweetly remain up all night for your shift.

“Gimme a break here, doc. Shit…”

The aching twitch he caused at the apex of your thighs made want to mount him immediately and rock the bolts loose from the creaky, remote operated bed, and for a second your weaker judgment almost got the better of you. Especially, considering the circumstances of Tommy shirtless and so earnestly almost begging. But you hadn’t worked you brain into a mashed potato through nursing school for nothing, and your residency at the hospital certainly couldn’t be offered at stake for some freakishly handsome stranger.

“Tell you what, Conlon. If you’re as interested as you seem, look me up when you’re home, and no longer my patient.”

As you kissed him on the cheek, then scribbled his next med dosage on the dry-eraser board in the corner, you glanced back towards Tommy once again with a regretful smile, and even deeper regretful thoughts of the way those anomalously fleshly lips would really feel on your body. Standing in his door way, Tommy perceived this as your goodbye and pushed a switch to kill the lights. He wouldn’t call for you the last 3 hours of your shift, and you’d peep in on him secretly once you were certain he’d fallen victim to sleep, and Percocet.

The morning air wasn’t unbearably frigid once you made it to the covered parking complex after clocking out only 45 minutes late. You simply needed a sauna hot shower, and your empty California king to kill the worry of work for your upcoming off days. You smashed the ‘unlock’ button of your key fob when you were only short inches away, before a hand encased your shoulder from somewhere behind.

Pushed now against the driver door of your vehicle and fumbling for the mace that hung from your keychain to assault the heavy body that had you trapped, scraped knuckles planted on top of your sedan revealed all you needed to know.

Tommy hastily spun you around in his arms, grabbing the collar of your light, autumn weather windbreaker as well, and finally encased you in a kiss. Although you were probably covered in bodily fluids and crusty food from your shift, and he was sporting a very obvious eye-patch, the moment in its entirety felt gangrenous with uncut passion. Your kiss mates nosed smashed yours flatly, and teeth certainly knocked into one another, but it was inevitable considering the bedroom vibes built up from the last 36 hours.

“I ain’t ya’ patient anymore, and you owe me lollipop I believe, Y/N. So, can ya’ please just give a man a ride home, ‘n a sponge bad for his troubles?”

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