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roosterforme · 9 months

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The Younger Kind Part 24 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When you and Bradley put some pieces of the puzzle together, you realize it was a blessing in disguise that you ran into Meredith. But in the early hours of Wednesday morning, Bradley is hanging on by a thread. How could anyone try to take Noah away from him?

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley strolled out of work with Nat hot on his heels. "She's picking you up?" she asked, clearly surprised by the turn of events over the past few days. When Bradley saw you leaning against the Bronco in the parking lot, Nat gasped. "You let her drive your Bronco?"

"Yeah, I trust her," he replied, taking off at a faster pace to get to you. The expression on your face had him a little worried, and you looked tired, but he was so happy to see you. Because he'd been anxious all day.

"Hi, Natasha," you called out, waving past Bradley as he scooped you up in a hug. "And hi, Daddy," you whispered, next to his ear as he held you.

"Hi, Baby," he sighed, kissing your glossy lips. "I missed you. Did you have a good day?"

You sucked in a deep breath, but then Nat was there, and the two of you were chatting. But your face was pinched and agitated instead of smooth and perfect, and you were playing with your hands nervously. Bradley let you talk to Nat for a few more minutes, and then he softly kissed the top of your head.

"Don't want to be late to pick Noah up," he told you, and then he gave Nat a hug and took the keys when you held them up for him. "You gonna tell me what's wrong?" he asked as he put the Bronco in gear.

"Why do you think something's wrong?" you asked casually, reaching for his hand.

"I can tell something's bothering you, Princess. But I'm assuming since you just grabbed my hand that you're not upset with me.

There was a brief pause before you said, "I saw Meredith when I went grocery shopping this morning."

Bradley nearly swerved off the road. "This morning? You saw her this morning, and you're just telling me about it now?" he glanced your way briefly. What happened? Did you get hurt?"

"I'm fine, Bradley." You squeezed his hand and pulled it to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his thumb. "I'm perfectly fine."

"I swear, she's trying to ruin my life," he growled. "Won't leave me alone. Thinks it's okay to go after you. I'm afraid I'm going to fucking lose it in the courtroom when I see her tomorrow."

"Bradley, let's just go home and have a nice dinner, and then we can talk about it in a few hours after Noah is in bed, okay? You need to stay calm."

But that proved impossible. Bradley watched you with his son, just as patient as ever. You alternated between making dinner and coloring with him while Bradley silently panicked. He had no idea how he could give this up. Even looking at Noah right now was painful for him. And when Noah asked him to get all three of the paper crowns, Bradley actually started crying.

"Sure, bub. Come help me find yours." Noah took Bradley by the hand and led him down the hallway to his bedroom.

"It's in here, Daddy," he said, reaching for the yellow crown on his dresser and putting it on his own head before giving the bigger green one to Bradley. "Let's get the purple one for Princess."

Noah climbed up on Bradley's bed, but he still couldn't reach it. Bradley pulled it down and handed it to his son. "Why don't you give it to her, but only if she's not trying to cook dinner, okay?" It was hard to speak with the lump in his throat as Bradley carried his son back into the kitchen. He had his nose buried in Noah's soft hair, inhaling his scent and holding back tears. "I love you," he whispered as Noah handed you the purple crown.

"Oh, are we all matching tonight?" you asked with a soft laugh. But your smile didn't quite reach your eyes as you looked at Bradley.

"Yep!" Noah said as you slipped your crown onto your head.

And then dinner was mostly silent. And if you thought it was strange that Bradley held Noah on his lap the entire time, you didn't say anything. The night was going too quickly. Bradley had spent weeks trying not to think about this day, but now here it was, and it was worse than he could have ever imagined. He could barely stomach the food you made even though it was perfect.

"It's going to be okay," you whispered across the table.

"How do you know that?" he asked in response. "How do you know this isn't the last night I get to do this?" Bradley kissed Noah's cheek and took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

You stayed silent after that, only whispering something sweet to Noah before you said goodnight to him. Then you let Bradley have some privacy to give Noah a bath and get him dressed for bed. He read seven books to Noah, and he was already asleep by the end of the last one. But he stayed on his knees next to the bed, brushing Noah's curls softly back from his forehead and kissing him a million times.

"I love you," he said, tears filling his eyes as he wandered back out into the hallway. You were cleaning up the kitchen, but when he found himself in the doorway, you gathered him into your arms.

"It's hitting you hard, I can tell," you told him, and Bradley didn't care if you saw him crying.

"I just feel like... all of this shit is beyond my control. I can only do my best. But that's still not good enough to ensure I get to raise my son, which is completely fucked up."

You guided him to one of the chairs and then climbed onto his lap. Your voice was so soft, Bradley could barely hear you. "I just don't see how anyone could take him away from you."

"Do you have any idea how often judges side with mothers over fathers? It's so unsettling, I don't even want to think about it right now."

You tightened your grip on him. "Then let's think about something else."

"I still can't believe Meredith was at the grocery store this morning," he groaned, rubbing his face.

You were quiet for a few minutes, and then you looked at him with your pretty face scrunched in frustration. "She said the strangest things to me."

Bradley was on high alert now. "What? What did she say?"

"Well, she made a comment about how your car is worth a lot of money."

"It's a Bronco, Princess. Not a car." He realized this was the first time he'd really smiled in hours, and it felt good.

"Yes, I'm so sorry. She mentioned that your Bronco was worth a lot, and she said she was surprised you let me drive it."

He rolled his eyes. "Just because I never let her touch it doesn't mean you can't. She used to wreck up her little sports cars annually and then buy a new one. Doesn't appreciate the classics like you do." Bradley kissed your shoulder and listened to you sigh. "But I guess it's kind of odd that she said that to you. And honestly, I have no idea how much the Bronco is worth. Maybe like sixty thousand? I try to keep her running nice."

You scoffed at him, and then Bradley could practically see the wheels turning in your head. "I looked it up against your VIN number. In pristine condition, your Bronco is worth almost one hundred and fifty thousand dollars."

"It is?" he asked, completely shocked.

"It is," you confirmed. "You didn't know that?"

"No," he said, shaking his head.

"Meredith also mentioned some life insurance money?" you said a little reluctantly. "In an account for Noah?" He watched your eyes go wide as you quickly added, "I'm not trying to pry, and we don't need to talk about it-"

"From my mom," he replied, kissing you softly to let you know it was okay to talk about it. "I have my mom's huge life insurance payout. I never touched a cent, because it was too depressing. After Noah was born, I decided to save it for him. He can use it for college or for a house or.... I don't know, he can sail a fucking yacht around the world with it or something. But it's for him."

You gasped and said, "Bradley, I think Meredith just wants your money."

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

You watched him slowly shake his head as you scrambled off his lap and went to go get his computer from where you left it charging in the living room. When you brought it back to the kitchen, Bradley said, "Princess, she makes more money than I do. I just don't see how that could be the case. You should see where she lives in Oceanside. It looks like a mansion."

"No," she replied, opening up the tabs she had saved. "She doesn't live in Oceanside any longer."

"How do you know that?" he asked, wrapping his arms around you as you sat perched on his thigh.

You pulled up some property records you had found when you searched Meredith's name earlier. "She went into foreclosure last year and had to sell. She lives in an apartment in San Diego now."

You looked at Bradley over your shoulder, but he was completely silent now.

"What was the name of her company?" you asked, turning back to the computer.

"Coastal Business Development," he said quietly. And a shiver ran through your body. You had been correct in what you found. But now you kept opening tab after tab as he sat there with you. More new information was popping up left and right. She had tried to hide her name by using an LLC, but Bradley knew enough of the missing pieces to help you put it all together.

"She's bankrupt," you whispered, and he gently pushed your hand out of the way to open one last tab himself. You skimmed the court documents and said, "It sounds like she married her business partner, and he left her high and dry."

"Damn," Bradley gasped, going back through each tab about Meredith's real estate foreclosure, business bankruptcies, and personal interviews. You tried to push the computer away, but Bradley kept going back to the same tab, and now he wouldn't even let you minimize it.

"Don't read it," you whispered, pulling his hand away and turning to look at him.

His eyes were void of emotion now as he looked at you. "She was quoted saying she doesn't have any children."

"She doesn't," you insisted, taking his face in your hands. "Not really. But you do. Noah is your son, Bradley."

He let his forehead come to rest on your shoulder, but a minute later, his phone was ringing in his pocket.

"It's probably Nat," he said, shaking his head. "I can't talk to anyone else right now."

He handed you his phone, but you looked at the name and said, "I think you should answer. It's your lawyer."

"Tracy," he grunted, holding the phone up to his face and closing his eyes. You tried to slip off of his lap after a moment, but he held you in place. And then his tone sounded sharp and angry as he scrambled to put the call on speakerphone. "Can you please repeat that last part?"

You heard Tracy's voice clearly say, "You remember how I told you Meredith was in breach of contract with her lawyer? Well, she never paid the law firm. Not a cent. The firm dropped her at the last minute when her funds never materialized. I just found out today. Do you know if she has any sort of history of financial mishaps?"

"Yes!" you said before you could consider if Bradley wanted Tracy to know you were there with him.

Tracy was quiet for a beat. "Are you at home? I'll come to you."

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When Tracy arrived after ten o'clock on Tuesday night, Bradley was practically having a nervous breakdown. The hearing was tomorrow. He and Noah were supposed to be at the courthouse in twelve hours. He felt like he was going to throw up.

But at least you were there, touching his hands and his shoulders and trying to make him feel better. You actually were helping him feel better. And then Tracy was in his kitchen with a huge bag, wearing gym clothes and eyeing you a little suspiciously.

Then she looked at Bradley and said, "Ignoring my legal advice, I see."

He sighed deeply. "Tracy, this is my babysitter turned girlfriend."

"Do not call her that tomorrow in the courtroom under any circumstances!" she said hastily. "Promise me, Bradley! I don't want us to end up looking like a pack of idiots when you point her out as your girlfriend."

"Wait..." you said, eyes wide. "You want me there tomorrow?"

"Yes," Tracy said, unloading folders onto the kitchen table along with her computer and a protein shake. "I already have a call in with the judge to have you added as a character witness. So be prepared to answer questions and give a statement if called upon."

"That's too much to ask," Bradley mumbled looking from Tracy to you. "I can't ask you to do that."

You looked at him like he was very slow and maybe a little naive. "You didn't ask me to. Tracy just told me I was. And I want to. If there's a chance I can do anything that might help, I'm doing it."

Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose and tried not to panic too much as you and he showed Tracy what'd you had found online. "Fucking hell," Tracy muttered, scribbling down notes. "I didn't know this was going to turn into a criminal hearing, but here we are." She scrolled through the property records and matched up tax identification numbers, taking everything a step beyond what you and Bradley had been able to do.

"A criminal hearing?" Bradley asked cautiously, but Tracy seemed to be in her own world now.

"Oh... she's slick," Tracy murmured. "Or she believes she is. You would think she'd have known her lawyer wouldn't fall for this. I wonder if she'll even have a lawyer tomorrow..."

Bradley reached for your hand on the table. "Can we just backtrack a moment? What kind of statement will she need to make?" he asked Tracy as he nodded at you. "And what will Meredith's lawyer be allowed to ask her?"

Tracy looked at his fingers intertwined with yours. "You'll just have to answer my questions honestly, without using the word girlfriend! And then Meredith's legal team is going to think it's open season on you as soon as they see your name was added to the docket. If we can even manage to have you added. So if you can't manage to answer their questions calmly and without crying as they try to shred you to pieces, then I suggest you learn how to overnight."

Bradley wanted to put an end to this entire thing, but you cut him off before he could start talking. "Do you honestly think I'll be helpful?"

"Absolutely. Could be the nail in Meredith's coffin, given all this new information."

"Then I'm in. Seriously Bradley, do not argue with us again," you told him, kissing his cheek while Tracy typed away.

"Okay, I need some coffee. And then let's go over everything from the top," Tracy said, clapping her hands.

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

It was well after midnight by the time you coaxed Bradley into bed. These last minute revelations were something Tracy insisted were good for Bradley's case, but he was looking extremely apprehensive now. He was raking his fingers through his hair nonstop and pacing around.

"You need to try to sleep," you whispered, pulling him down the hallway. "Let Tracy do what she needs to do, okay? She's going to be in charge tomorrow. She's good at this."

But he stopped short in front of Noah's door and let go of your hand. "You go get ready for bed. I'll be there in a minute." His voice was flat and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed before ducking inside the dark bedroom. You were worried, mostly about him. And about how Noah would do when being questioned by the judge tomorrow. You didn't have time to worry about yourself, so that was at least one good thing you thought of while you brushed your teeth.

You were dressed in one of Bradley's oversized shirts and waiting in bed for a while before he came in. You helped him change out of his clothes, and he climbed into bed next to you. He didn't say anything except, "I love you, Princess," after he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. But he let you pull him into your arms, and pretty soon you were dozing off to the feel of his soft breaths on your forehead and his heart beating beneath your palm.

When you woke to a pitch black room, you could tell he was no longer in bed with you. You found him sitting on the floor in Noah's room, watching his son sleep, and when you walked in, your bare feet silent on the floor, he looked up at you. Even in the dim glow from the nightlight, you could tell he had been crying again. But he didn't ask you to leave. He reached for you.

"You're a good dad," you told him with a soft sob as you climbed onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Noah is lucky. And I don't believe they could take him away from you. Away from all this love."

He kissed your cheek, and then he smiled softly as you brushed Noah's curls from his forehead with one hand and Bradley's with the other. "I feel like I can't breathe right," he whispered, and you could feel his pulse racing as you pressed your lips to his neck. "I don't know what I'll do if they take him from me."

"Stop it. They won't."

He was silent again after that, and the two of you ended up sleeping right there on the floor. When you woke up as Noah climbed out of bed just after sunrise, your hip was a little sore, and Bradley was still sleeping.

"Morning, Noah," you whispered, standing and scooping him into your arms. You took him to the kitchen, kissing his chubby cheeks on the way.

"Do you live here now?" he asked, yawning as you turned on the coffee maker.

"No. I don't," you said, hoping he wouldn't say anything like that when he was questioned by the judge in a few hours. "I'm just your babysitter." He just blinked at you before asking for breakfast.

About twenty minutes later, when Bradley walked in rubbing his back, he made a beeline for Noah while you scrambled some eggs and made coffee. Even the mug that said My Other Car Is a Super Hornet didn't make you smile today. You burned your mouth on the coffee, and you nearly knocked the pan onto the floor. Because every time you looked at Bradley, you were on the verge of tears. Maybe you weren't capable of being as strong as you needed to be today. Now the idea of standing up in the courtroom was laughable. You were going to ruin everything.

Bradley was calling your name, and when you snapped out of your daze, he said, "You need to eat, too."

"I can't," you whispered, shaking your head. "I can't." You left them alone and went to take a quick shower, happy you'd packed a variety of clothing when you stopped home the other day. You were supposed to have a mock interview with one of your peers over a FaceTime call today, so you'd packed a blazer and some nice pants. You'd just have to skip the interview. Honestly, school and searching for a job had been the last things on your mind recently anyway.

You let Bradley get Noah ready to go, and when it was time to leave, you looked at him, so handsome in his navy blue suit. "Will you drive? Please?" he asked, holding out the Bronco key for you to take. You simply nodded, but a moment later, you felt tears in your eyes again. He was sitting in the backseat next to Noah. You backed carefully out of his driveway and headed to the center of the city and the courthouse and Meredith and everything else that you wished Bradley and Noah didn't have to see today.

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The fact that Tracy was chugging a Red Bull and looked like she hadn't slept at all was only making Bradley feel worse as he carried Noah up the stairs in front of the courthouse.

She rushed toward them and pointed at you. "You're on the docket. Get ready. Meredith supposedly has a lawyer, and I'm sure they've seen the docket update by now."

"Okay," you replied. You were nodding, but you looked as nervous as Bradley felt.

Then Tracy was patting Noah on the head. "Remember me? I'm Tracy. We're going to do something a little different today, okay Noah? It might seem a little silly at first, because you'll be the only kid here! But you'll be allowed to color when we get inside."

You gasped. "I didn't pack him any coloring books!"

"I have some," Tracy said, patting her briefcase. You immediately looked a little calmer, and Tracy added, "But that's the sign of a good babysitter if you usually pack them."

"She brings me coloring books when she babysits me," Noah told Tracy.

Bradley held Noah a little tighter. "Made sure I got you the best babysitter around, bub."

Just as Tracy cracked open another can of Red Bull that she procured from somewhere, she said, "Time to go in." Bradley didn't stand too close to you, and he didn't touch you. He followed you inside the front doors at a respectable distance, and you seemed to understand what needed to be done today.

When Bradley's eyes settled on Meredith, she was already looking at him. And she was standing next to a tall man in a suit. "Well, would you look at that? She does have a lawyer today," Tracy whispered, crushing the now empty can in her fist and throwing it away before walking over to introduce herself to him.

Bradley had to turn his gaze away from his ex, and he walked a little further away from you. The desire to touch you was strong, but he instinctively wanted to get Noah as far away from Meredith as he possibly could. Bradley's heart was pounding, and a wave of nausea passed through him.

"Daddy, can we go home?" Noah whispered, wrapping his arms around Bradley's neck. "I don't like it here."

Neither did Bradley. He held his son and thought about Carole, and how she never let anything scary happen to him when he was a kid. He thought about losing everything by the time he was a teenager and about the fact that Noah had given him a fresh start. A reason to be happy. And it was because of Noah that he met you. When he glanced over his shoulder, you were watching the two of them with a soft gaze.

"Pretty soon, bub," he replied, squeezing his son and pressing his lips to his forehead. "I'll take you home soon. I hope."

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Next up is the showdown! Get in my asks with questions and concerns, but we may be nearing the end. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 25

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andypantsx3 · 6 months

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SOMETHING IN THE WATER | 5 | SHOUTO x READER

SUMMARY: As a future marine biologist, you’ve scored big on your final internship: a summer in the tropics, researching the waters off the coast of a lush, sunny island. But what you thought would be all beach days and piña coladas turns out to be the revelation of a lifetime when you haul in a handsome merprince, and discover not everything in these waters is quite as it seems. TAGS/WARNINGS: mermaid au, interspecies relationships, mating rituals/courting behavior, (sort of) case fic, aged up characters, eventual smut, fem pronouns/afab reader LENGTH: 3.5k of est. 21k, 5th of 8 chapters

It was pollution. No doubt about it.

Under the lens of one of Kamui’s microscopes, the evidence was incontrovertible. The piece of white coral Shouto had brought you sported distinct traces of industrial processing chemicals that had almost certainly contributed to its bleaching, the concentration high enough that it had also probably choked the life out of the nearby environment.

It was high enough, in fact, that you were absolutely floored your team hadn’t come across even a hint of anything similar before. Based on the levels, you should have been finding at least smaller traces close to the area it came from, but nothing you’d found so far had even hinted at anything like this.

Which begged the question, just where in the hell had Shouto gotten it from?

When you legged it back down to the beach, however, both the merman and your sandwich were missing. The only evidence of his presence were the slices of mozzarella that had clearly been picked out of the sandwich, laid out cleanly on the wrapper you’d left behind.

You’d sighed and cleaned your trash up, then slogged back to your room for a shower and a few hours of sleep, stowing the coral away safely to show to your team in the morning.

When you awoke, however, you realized you would have no way of explaining to them where you’d obtained it, and no way to point them any closer to the source of the issue. You resolved to find Shouto as soon as possible to figure out what was going on, hopefully before the scheduled tour of Sunfish.

You rocketed through your morning tasks, and hurriedly volunteered to take over trap checking duty, disappearing out the door before Yu could so much as get out a reply.

You boated north to the reef where you’d first met Shouto, and jumped into the water before you’d even gotten your snorkeling gear on properly, certain the merman would somehow find you. You’d nearly finished checking the trap, kicking off the seafloor to rise back to the surface when a hand seized your elbow, guiding you back up.

Shouto’s handsome face was staring back at you when you yanked off your goggles, his distinctive hair slicked back with ocean water, the scar around his eye a deep pink in the sunlight. Sunlight glittered off the droplets on his skin, making him look even more ethereal than he usually did, and your breath momentarily seized in your chest.

“Hi Shouto,” you said, your face going hot when it came out weirdly breathy. Embarrassing.

A tiny little smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, and his fingers flexed on your elbow. “Hello,” he said in his deep, even tone.

Even that simple greeting somehow made you flush. You quickly marshaled yourself, trying to remember you had come here with an agenda, not to float here stupidly in the water, staring at him.

“Shouto—that coral you gave me yesterday? One of them has the signs of the pollution I was looking for!”

Shouto blinked, a droplet of water sliding down the side of his straight, handsome nose. Your eyes seemed weirdly glued to it as it reached the edge of his mouth.

“Then you liked it? It had…microbes?” he asked.

You nodded distractedly. “Sort of. Signs of microbial unhealth and chemically-induced bleaching. And I did like it. I think you might have actually solved the whole case for me!”

Shouto’s mouth pulled into a fuller, happier smile, just enough to bare the tops of those sharp teeth. You blinked, momentarily stunned, looking back up into his eyes to find him watching you intently.

“You liked it. My gift,” he said, something strangely smug in his tone. A little thrill raced through you, a frission of pleasure, at having put that expression on his face, that tone in his voice. Your ears went hot, and you pointedly did not think about why his pleasure made you so pleased as well.

“Yeah, I loved it,” you nodded, startled when Shouto’s fingers slid from your elbow to your wrist, lifting it up to his face.

But then in the next instant his expression shifted, his brows furrowing and the edges of his smile dipping. Instantly, you mourned the loss of it.

“But…you are not wearing it,” he said. “Either of them.”

Your eyelashes fluttered themselves in another disconcerted blink. Had…that been a requirement? Had he said that to you, yesterday?

You didn’t think you’d had much conversation between him handing over the bits of coral and you rushing off to the lab with them, but maybe that had been his expectation of what you would do with them. Maybe that was a common merperson thing, and you were too ignorant to think of it.

In fact, you hadn’t even taken the time to ask him why he’d given the coral bits to you, too focused on getting them under Kamui’s microscope like a huge disrespectful idiot.

You flushed, suddenly feeling incredibly rude. Was this a merperson custom you had just flagrantly ignored?

“Am I—? Is that something your people, um, do?” you asked. “Wear coral?”

Shouto nodded, those mismatched eyes still glued to your bare wrist. His fingers carefully shifted to encircle it, like he was replacing the expected bits of coral with his own hold on you. Your face burned and you paddled a little bit harder in the water, expelling nervous energy.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t know. Of course I will wear them, I just need to find some kind of string—” A sudden thought seized you. “Except—-well, Shouto, I need that white coral to prove pollution. I need to show it to my team, and be able to explain where I got it from. They might need to send it off as evidence.”

Shouto’s fingers tightened on you, though you noted he was still mindful of his claws. A hissing noise exploded out of him, and that scraping feeling burned at the back of your throat again, the bioelectric signal of his distaste clear enough.

“It is yours, not theirs,” he hissed, his handsome face suddenly all twisted up.

You could quite literally feel how distressed he was, and your heart throbbed with the realization that you were the cause.

You immediately backtracked, horrified. You shifted in the merman’s grip, twisting your hand to grab his wrist too, and put your other hand to his shoulder, holding him firmly.

“I’m sorry—Shouto, yes of course it’s mine. Of course I won’t give it to them,” you said, trying to angle your face to look into his eyes. “I didn’t realize—of course I will keep it with me.”

To your surprise, Shouto calmed immediately. The snarl faded from his mouth, his lips resuming their normal soft, sweet shape, and his other hand came to rest at your waist, pulling you a fraction closer to him.

“You promise,” he asked, though it was phrased more like a statement than a question.

You had to fight back a shocked laugh at how easily he’d been rerouted, and how unbelievably fleeting and childish that little tantrum had been. A prince of his people and here he was, getting fussy with you!

There was nothing for your exasperated snort, your helpless smile. “Yes, yes, I promise. But you have to help me collect another piece of white coral from where you got it originally. I promise it’s important.”

Shouto’s hands tightened on you, and you found yourself being dragged closer, so that he was holding you up in the water, only inches from the hard planes of his chest. His tail brushed against the inside of your thigh, the scales rasping lightly over the skin there. You went still, a little thrill racing up your spine at his sudden, more immediate proximity.

“You want me to take you there,” he said, his voice suddenly a little deeper.

You blinked. “I—yes? Is that…okay?”

Shouto’s eyes narrowed in on you, and you shifted nervously in his hold as his pupils went a little more slitted, a little more inhumanly focused. “It is an area of some significance to my people, though it is now difficult to get to. Your kind has begun to touch it.”

Your interest piqued. Humans had begun to touch it, alright. Judging by the chemical processing agents left behind on the piece of coral Shouto had given you, you could guess exactly which humans had touched it, too.

“Is it Sunfish?” you couldn’t help but ask, perking up in his hold.

Shouto inclined his head, a movement that brought his mouth almost dangerously close to yours. Your breath choked off in your lungs.

“Yes,” Shouto replied. “The…microbes you are interested in, then…? They are to do with Sunfish?”

You nodded excitedly, eagerly sucking in another breath. “Yes, yes! God, I’m so stupid, I should have told you earlier—anything to do with where Sunfish is operating is of interest to me. We’ve been testing the—um, the microbes to put it simply—around the area but if Sunfish has somewhere we haven’t been yet, that’s what I’m looking to know.”

Shouto looked thoughtful, and a claw trailed absently down the skin of your arm. You jumped, startled.

“Then I will take you,” he said, eyes cutting back to yours. “On one condition.”

You felt your eyebrows raise. Well that was unexpected of him. Who knew mermen knew how to bargain?

“Name your price,” you told him.

Shouto’s mouth quirked then, a hint of a sharp incisor showing, but the rest of his expression was strangely sincere. “I want dinner and a movie,” he said, a claw trailing sweetly, absently down the skin of your arm again. “Like you said humans do.”

You could feel your eyebrows escaping towards your hairline, your mouth going slack. “You want to watch a movie and have dinner,” you repeated, floored.

Shouto inclined his head, the damp strands of red and white mingling with the movement. “You said I would like a movie.”

Damn. You had said that, hadn’t you? But you couldn’t think how in the hell you were going to get Shouto to a movie. It wasn’t like there was a movie theater on this island, and besides that it wasn’t like you could just piggyback a real life merman into one.

You supposed if pressed, you could preload something on the shitty island wifi and then bring your laptop down to the beach and watch things that way. But what if someone spotted the light and came looking? Shouto could disappear quick enough, you had no doubt, but how to explain the laptop?

And then it occurred to you: the inn had a maintenance shed, just off the main office. A sudden image came to you of wheeling Shouto uphill in a wheelbarrow, getting him into the tub in your room, and setting up a few pillows for yourself, and some kind of dinner spread on the floor.

It was unconventional. But then—so was the idea of dinner and a movie with a merman at all.

You stuck out your hand, making a mental note to swing by the maintenance shed on your way back in tonight. “It’s a deal.”

Shouto stared at your fingers, seeming not to know what to do with the gesture, until you took one of his hands in your own, pumping it up and down. He held on for too long after that, those crimson-tipped fingers closing in over your own, warm and wet and strong.

“Then I will take you now, if you like,” Shouto said. “If you are ready.”

You nodded, paddling your feet a little uselessly in his hold, in eager anticipation. Confirmation of Sunfish’s activity, and the chance to see a place meaningful to Shouto and his people. It was a dream come true for any marine biologist.

Shouto let you go, following you slowly as you paddled back to the boat, swimming leisurely, looping circles around you. He helped boost you back into the boat, and then hauled himself up after you on the strength of his arms alone. The back of your neck went very warm, as you watched his muscle coil and flex as he pulled himself in, then looked at you imploringly.

“I will point the way and you will take us,” he said, slithering across the floor of the boat to slide in next to you behind the wheel. He peered at all the meters and dials interestedly, pressing a crimson claw to one.

You had to laugh at the ridiculousness of a merman sitting behind the wheel of a boat, and another wild idea occurred to you.

“Wanna learn how to drive?” you asked.

Shouto’s eyes slid over to you, turquoise and grey pinning you to your seat. “To operate the boat?”

You nodded. Another hot flush crept across your cheeks as a slow smile spread over Shouto’s mouth, those mismatched eyes glittering.

“Yes,” he said. “I should like that very much.”

You gestured him over to your seat, rising out of it as Shouto slid all that heavy muscle your way, the scales of his tail bright and fiery in the sun. He was warm and smelled like salt up close, and you tried not to take note of the way his bicep flexed as he moved to grip the wheel in taloned fingers.

You gave him a brief run through of all the meters and gauges, the fuel level meter, speedometer, the ammeter and engine hours. He seemed disinterested in all but the speed—a typical man, even if only his upper half looked it.

Then you showed him the throttle and how to turn the key to start and what degrees of movement of the wheel at a higher speed wouldn’t send both of you flying out of the boat. And then you sank down next to him, gripping the seat for safety as he started the boat, looking thrilled.

He guided the boat off the reef more carefully than you would have expected, but he grew bolder as you made it out into deeper waters, applying a ton of throttle instantly and sending you falling backwards in your seat. You zoomed across the gentle waves, horrifyingly fast, but unexpectedly smoothly for someone who had just learned. Shouto seemed intimately familiar with the island’s layout, navigating smoothly through some of the shallow channels that gave you an almost-regular heart attack, gliding easily across the waves and not seeming to catch a single one the wrong way.

A thrilled laugh bit out of you, getting lost in the wind as you sped across the sea. Shouto’s mouth pulled into a wider smile, looking pleased with himself, those sharp teeth white in the sun. You found yourself smiling, at the ludicrousness of being driven around by a merprince, and at how much Shouto looked like he was enjoying himself.

In almost no time Shouto was steering you into a shallow cove on the eastern side of the island a couple hundred meters away from where you’d laid out an observation station. As you slowed to a stop you helped anchor the boat, feeling your brows furrowing back down in confusion, the smile slipping off your face.

If there was any level of pollution in this cove then you would have known about it from the nearby observation station. You weren’t sure if Shouto had the right spot.

But as you turned back to him he pointed a claw towards the jut of the land, aiming with certainty. “There used to be a cave through which we could access the lagoon,” he said. “But it is blocked off to us now.”

You stared at him, befuddled. “Blocked off? By what?”

Shouto’s mouth thinned into an irritated line. “By some human invention—I do not know what it is.”

Your eyebrows raised. “Then—how did you get the coral out of this, uh, lagoon if you can’t access it?”

Shouto’s eyes dipped, following your words as your mouth shaped them, looking strangely intent. Your ears went hot.

“I climbed,” he said simply.

You whipped around to stare back at the strip of land rising into the jungle. You could just make out a clearing in the trees where you thought a lagoon might lay. And it was no small distance. Your jaw dropped, imagining Shouto having to drag himself over meters and meters of land to get there.

Your stomach fluttered, the white coral suddenly taking on a new significance if Shouto had gone to such trouble for it. It had to be more than just an area of interest to his people—-it more likely had to be extremely significant if this was the length merpeople had to go for this coral. No wonder he hadn’t liked the idea of you testing it, of you surrendering it and mailing it out and away, if he’d had to pull himself over land like that to get it.

And with this realization, a new, wildly disconcerting thought crept over you, an insane flight of fancy.

Was it possible that Shouto had given you… not just a friendly gift, but something even more meaningful than you had initially realized? If this was a site of cultural significance, and he’d suffered to get the coral for you—did it mean something a little bit more intimate than an exchange between new friends?

Your gaze darted back over to Shouto, sitting pertly in his seat. He struck such a handsome profile, all sleek muscle and delicately carved features, his face carefully-noted and almost supernaturally angelic. His coloring, too, was magnificent, the rose of his scar, the deep scarlet of his scales and his claws. And he was so sweet, and funny, and so very interesting. He was unlike anything—anyone—you had ever seen, and the thought of him fetching you a gift of special significance made an even more blistering wave of heat flare up in your belly.

You rose from your seat, determined to see this lagoon for yourself.

“Alright, you wait here,” you told Shouto, “I’m going to go check it out.”

He nodded, watching you closely as you went to the bag of supplies, fishing out a camera, the log book, your shoes, and a couple pieces of sampling equipment. You stuffed them all in a dry bag, rolling the top down tight and buckling securely.

“You will be careful,” Shouto intone in his deep voice, more an order than a question.

You smiled up at him, nodding your head. “Yes. I’ll be back in just a couple of minutes.”

He looked satisfied with that, and helped lower you down into the water to swim for land. He slithered off the edge beside you, sinking smoothly into the water like a dropped stone, and swam along underneath you, following you all the way until you clambered onto the sand. You hurriedly dug around in your bag for your shoes, stuffing your feet into them still sandy and damp as Shouto looked on.

Once properly outfitted, you followed the beach as it trailed off into scrub and bushes, and then into towering palms, making your way into the jungle. The sun shone brightly through the leaves, painting everything around you in shades of sunlit green, the air under the canopy thicker than on the beach. Your feet slid over the damp sand in your sneakers, a sensation you did not particularly enjoy, but you walked briskly, your curiosity leading you onwards.

In only a few minutes, the trees once again gave way to a small strip of sand, and you spilled out onto the beach of the lagoon.

It was instantly clear to you exactly what Shouto had meant. A large metallic wall dammed off one side of the lagoon, most probably blocking off the underwater channel Shouto had told you about. It had been bolted into the jutting coral and rock around it, sealing off any water flow. Around it, the ancient coral walls of the lagoon were bone white wherever the water lapped at them, disturbingly bleached of color, and you thought the scrub and the trees that had built up over the surface overtime looked a little bit unhealthy too.

Shouto had most definitely gotten his coral from here.

As you looked around your certainty grew, until you spotted the most damning evidence. Only a scant few meters away from where you had come out of the forest, there was a pipe dug into the earth, sitting about a meter above the water level of the lagoon. It was still shiny, clearly new, and it was also dribbling the occasional bit of liquid into the lagoon, as if someone were piping certain substances out and away from the rest of their facilities.

Your heart rate doubled at the sight, and you knew even as you unloaded your equipment to take samples that you had found exactly what you had been looking for.

There was no doubt in your mind that this pipe led back to Sunfish. And Shouto had indeed just solved this entire case.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki x you #character: todoroki shouto

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pulisicsgirl · 1 year

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flustered assessments - christian pulisic

summary: Y/N is a nursing student struggling to study for an assignment and Christian offers to help out by letting her do an assessment on him; super fluffy, established relationship

pairing: Christian Pulisic x nursing student!reader

word count: 2.4k

notes: this is the first fic that I'm posting on here!!! :) this fic is entirely self-indulgent and I wrote it during finals week last semester, so it might be super niche, but I still thought it was cute so and figured I would share it. please tell me what you think!

You held your head in your hands as you hunched over the desk, all your work laid out before you. Your mind seemed to spin as you tried to take in and retain all of the information written in your notebook and printed on the sheets of paper before you. You were preparing to head into final exam week as a junior-year nursing student, and you were due to perform a graded head-to-toe assessment the following morning. Nerves wracked your body as you tried to go through the checklist you had to complete (from memory). You wiggled your fingers as you read through your notes, trying to dispel some of the anxiety you were feeling.

You felt a light pressure on your back and a kiss was placed on your neck, just below your ear, as Christian leaned his body over you and wrapped his arms around your torso.

He had come over earlier that night so the two of you could try to spend some of his very limited time off together, but when he realized how much work you had piling up before exams and how stressed you were about studying, he immediately shifted gears, encouraging you to do whatever work you needed to and doing his best not to distract you. It meant a lot to you that he recognized how important your studies were to you, and that he didn’t try to convince you to spend time with him instead. You had wanted nothing more than to spend the evening wrapped in his arms under a blanket on the couch, watching a movie until you drifted into a peaceful sleep—honestly. But with so many tests looming in your near future, you knew you wouldn’t be able to relax and focus on spending time with him—and he realized that too. So for the last few hours, he has wandered in periodically, ensuring that you had snacks and took breaks every so often. He talked you down from your anxious thoughts, reassuring you that you were capable of the things that you had set out to do.

“Hey, baby. Just checking in,” he said, almost at a whisper. “How are things going?”

You sighed softly, subtly leaning back into his chest and groaning in frustration. “I feel so overwhelmed,” you whined, rubbing the palms of your hands in your eyes. “I feel like I’m just reading the same information over and over again and not retaining anything.” Christian stood up straight, using his fingers to gently massage your shoulders as you tilted your head back to look at him. His faced held a sympathetic look as he stared back down at you.

He thought for a moment. “What are you working on right now?”

“I’m trying to prepare for the head-to-toe assessment I have to do in the morning,” you gestured to the equipment you had laid out on the desk. Your stethoscope, blood pressure cuff, and pen light, among other tools, lay unused on the surface.

“Would it help if you actually went through the assessment instead of just reading about it?” he asked softly.

You pondered his words for a brief moment. “Yeah, actually,” you looked back up at him. “It might.”

A grin broke out on his face, accentuating the soft dimples in his cheeks. “You could do it on me!” he replied with excitement. He had always loved seeing you practice any of your nursing skills. He often made remarks about how you were his “smartie pants” that was going to save lives one day, and it warmed your heart each time. Any time he would feel an ache or pain, he would come to you to ask what was wrong, and whether you had the answer or not, you knew that he secretly just loved when you would dote on him and try to take care of him.

“Really? Are you sure?” you asked. He just nodded, bouncing lightly on his toes in excitement.

“Where do you want me?” he asked with a grin. You told him to go sit on the bed while you grabbed your tools and a couple sheets of paper. You placed them on the bedside table and tried to mentally prepare yourself to do the assessment.

“Okay, so…” you looked up at Christian’s face which only held a small, eager, and supportive smile. He was sitting up at the top of the bed with his back against the headboard. In an instant, you felt a wave of anxiety as you thought about how unprepared you felt for this assignment. You pulled on the fingers of your right hand, a habit that you often did when you were nervous.

Christian picked up on this, leaning forward to grab your hands with his own. “Hey, baby. Relax,” he spoke softly, as though you were a small, scared woodland animal that he was doing his best not to spook. He gently pulled you forward, uttering a soft, “c’mere” as he pulled you to sit on his lap, with your legs on the outside of his so you were straddling him. He placed both of his hands on your cheeks, looking intently into your eyes. “It’s just me and you here. You can do this. And you can run through it as many times as you need to tonight. I’ll be right here.” His thumb stroked your cheek gently. “Okay?” You felt butterflies in your stomach at his words as you nodded and glanced down. Even after as long as you had been together, he never failed to get you flustered.

You took a deep breath, trying to center yourself and focus on his encouragement, and he moved his hands from your face, settling them on your hips. You decided to just stay where you were to do the assessment—it wasn’t the most conventional way to assess a patient by any means, but you felt better when you were close to him. You leaned over to the bedside table, grabbing your notebook and a pen so you could jot down notes as you went.

“Okay,” you paused, collecting yourself. “Hi, my name is Y/N, and I’m going to be your nurse today.” You glanced up to Christian’s face, feeling almost giddy at the amused look on it. “I need to do a head-to-toe assessment on you, is that okay?” You mentally went through the elements of the introduction that you needed to fulfill, checking each one off in your head as you went.

Christian replied with a “yes, ma’am,” and a short nod.

“Okay, can I get your name and date of birth?”

“Christian Pulisic. September 18, 1998.” You had already begun writing down the answer before he started speaking, already sure of his answer.

“Do you know what day of the week it is?”

“It’s a beautiful Thursday evening.”

You giggled at his response, feeling a little more anxiety flutter away. “Do you know where you are?”

“Your apartment?” he questioned, not exactly sure how he was supposed to answer. You just nodded to show that he was fine.

“Alright, and do you know why you’re here?”

“To help my beautiful, genius girlfriend study for her exams so that she can ace this tomorrow and go on to become the most brilliant and talented nurse this world has ever seen.” You felt the heat rush into your cheeks at his response. You looked up to his face and found an earnest honesty in his eyes as he grinned at you. You shook your head with a laugh, turning back to your notes.

“Are you in any pain?”

“No.”

You began taking his vital signs, pretending to take his temperature and oxygen saturation since you didn’t have the equipment to do those. You took his blood pressure and counted his pulse and respirations, noting them on your paper.

“Everything normal?” he asks.

“For the most part,” you smiled. “Your heart rate is kind of fast, but I usually don’t take my patient’s pulse while I’m sitting in their lap, so that could have something to do with it.” He smiled sheepishly, dropping his chin to his chest as he laughed at himself. “And your blood pressure is just a hair high, but with as active as you are and how well you eat, I wouldn’t worry about it. It probably just has to do with the heart rate thing, too.”

You continued assessing him to the best of your ability, asking him questions about how he had been feeling and checking his eye movement with your pen light. Christian continued trying to make you laugh as he followed all of your directions. When you asked him to puff out his cheeks to test one of the cranial nerves, he crossed his eyes, acting as goofy as he could.

You began asking him questions related to his heart, asking if he had experienced any chest pains or dizziness. You put your stethoscope in your ears and, as you did so, Christian leaned forward off of the headboard, pulling his shirt over his head quickly, and discarding it on the floor. You felt the heat flooding your face once again as you studied his bare abdomen.

“Like what you see, Nurse Y/N?” he wiggled his eyebrows as he spoke.

You rolled your eyes, laughing anyway. “Just shut up and lean back,” you giggled, pushing his chest. You placed the stethoscope to his skin, listening to the soft lub-dub, lub-dub of his heartbeat, a soft smile passing over your face. It was one of your favorite sounds—his heartbeat. It was a comforting sound, knowing he was alive and well. You had fallen asleep many times, head pressed to his chest as the steady rhythm lulled you to sleep.

You jotted down some more notes as you took the stethoscope out of your ears, turning back to look at him. “Do you have any history of smoking?” you asked with a smile, as you already knew the answer.

“No,” he smiled.

“Alright, have you experienced any coughing recently? Any difficulty or pain with breathing? Any shortness of breath?”

“Well… a little bit,” he pondered, tapping his finger to his chin. You quirked your head to the side, raising an eyebrow at him in question. Why hadn’t he mentioned to you that he was having trouble breathing recently? A thousand possibilities ran through your head in an instant.

“Well, you know… because you took my breath away,” he raised his eyebrows as if to say, ‘that one was pretty good, huh?’.

You just grabbed your notebook, writing in it once more. “Patient… thinks… he’s smooth,” you spoke slowly as if you were writing the words in your notes.

“Heyyyy,” he groaned and both of you laughed.

You continued working through the list of what you needed to do, checking off each item, one by one. As you were working through the neuro section, Christian moved his hands from your hips, down to settle on your thighs, where he rubbed the pads of his thumbs over the exposed skin just below the hem of your shorts.

“Have you, um… h-have,” your breath caught in your throat, suddenly feeling flustered at the soft touch of his fingers. You swallowed hard, attempting to pull yourself together and promptly failing. You dropped your hands into your lap in defeat, letting out a heavy sigh. “You have to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” He wore a sly grin on his face.

“You know what you’re doing,” you groaned.

He laughed at your desperation. “Come on, if you can do it in these circumstances, you can do it in any setting,” he retorted, raising his eyebrows at you. As much as you may not like it, he was probably right.

You sighed again, stretching out your back and shaking your head to try to refocus yourself.

Soon enough, you had finished your checklist, looking through your notes to ensure you hadn’t forgotten anything.

“Alright, I think that’s everything,” you smiled at him. “I diagnose you as… alive.”

“Oh, good. I was worried,” he said in an amused tone, squeezing your thigh. “Alright,” he took the checklist from your hands. “Run me through everything you would do for an assessment, and I’ll check you.”

You took a deep breath, pulling at your fingers again. One of his hand resumed it’s position on your thigh. “Okay I start by introducing myself, I get two patient identifiers and assess for alertness and orientation. Then I’ll take temperature, pulses, respirations…”

You continued listing everything you could remember, running through the assessment in order in your head.

When you reached the end, Christian beamed at you, setting the sheet of paper on the bed beside you. “You aced it. Every last thing on that list—you got it.”

“Really?”

“Every. Last. One.” He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m so proud of you.” Your heart fluttered in your chest as you closed your eyes, leaning your head onto his shoulder. He ran his fingers gently over your back, tracing patterns into your spine. “You’ve been studying for hours now, and you’ve got this material down. Do you feel comfortable calling it a night? We can run through it again a couple times in the morning before you actually head in to do it.”

You smiled to yourself at his supportive and caring words. You nodded, head still on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around your torso, scooting down the bed so that he could lay down, pulling you to lay on his chest. You instantly melted into him, feeling the ache in your shoulders and back as you finally relaxed.

In a matter of minutes, you felt your eyelids begin to droop as Christian continued rubbing your back slowly.

“Thank you for helping me study,” you spoke slowly, sleep already threatening to take you. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to spend much time together tonight.”

“It’s okay, baby. Next week, after you crush your finals, I’ll take you out and we can spend all the time in the world together then.”

That simple statement made you smile, giving you something to look forward to after a long week of exams.

And sure enough, Christian was right. After a night of peaceful rest in his arms, the two of you ran through the material a couple more times the next morning, and then, after you had donned your scrubs (earning several cheeky remarks from Christian about how hot you looked in them) you headed into the lab to do the assessment with your instructor and passed it with flying colors.

#christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic imagines #christian pulisic fics #footballer fics #footballer fic #footballer imagine #footballer imagines #football imagine #football fics #christian pulisic fluff #christian pulisic #christian pulisic fanfic #christian pulisic one shot #christian pulisic blurb

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p8dri · 1 year

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ａｌｗａｙｓ, kylian mbappé

summary — after having been brought to a psg game by your football obsessed bestfriend, it was all but fate that you become obsessed as well. going out of your way to go to as many psg games as you can, practically becoming their number one fan, you manage to grab the attention of one specific player. ( wc — 4.0k )

genre. angst ig? ! parings. mbappé x fem!reader ! tropes. strangers to friends to lovers, sweet!kylian ! warnings. google translated french, boner lmao ! a/n. this story is set in ‘22 but also ‘23, but it also jumps to the future a little bit. please send in requests, they’re very helpful and enjoy <3

NOVEMBER 13TH — FIRSTS. psg vs auxerre

“ here, put this on. ”

looking down at the jersey your bestfriend had practically shoved into your hands, you immediately noticed the huge 7 on the back, the surname ‘mbappe’ plastered right above it in a thick white font.

“ mbappe? ” amelie, your bestfriend, looked at you dumbfounded after having heard your question, immediately replying with her typical ‘duh’ tone, “ yes, mbappe. ” she mocked.

“ kylian mbappe. come on [Y/N] you should know this, i only ever bring him up every other conversation. ”

a simple eye roll was your response as you took your original shirt off and replaced it with the jersey, fixing your hair in the bathroom mirror and ensuring you looked somewhat presentable for the football game.

the only reason you had agreed to go with amelie and to this stupid football game was because you had lost a bet to her while drunk — a bet that drunk you hadn’t realized you would’ve never been able to win before agreeing with your long time bestfriend.

you and amelie had been friends since middle school; her the obsessed athlete, football this and football that, while you were one more towards academics and finishing school with a high enough gpa to get you into a sort of med school.

both of you were in college currently, with amelie building off of her football and you your medical understanding.

“ let’s go, we want to get there before some jerkoff’s jack our seats. ”

giving your outfit one last run over, you gave a reassuring nod to yourself and followed amelie out of the apartment you two shared just outside paris. upon exiting, you were immediately blinded by the early morning sun — another thing to foul your mood a little more.

hopping into the uber that was parked in front of your building, you immediately flung your head back against the seat and began to regret practically every life decision you had ever made, already wishing for the day to be over.

the roars of ecstatic psg fans sounded all throughout the stadium as you and amelie sat down in your seats almost level with the field — apparently amelie knew someone that worked with the football club and was able to hook you guys up with close seats for a fraction of the price.

you didn’t miss amelie’s large smile and gleam in her eyes when turning to your left to watch the players leave the tunnel, walking out onto the pitch decked out in their respective teams gear.

“ omg, there he is! look at how fine he is! ”

confusion fueled you as you looked out onto the field, searching for the supposed ‘fine’ man she was referencing to. noticing your reaction, amelie literally grabbed your head and adverted your vision to a player sporting a nice beard and clean cut.

“ sergio ramos, my husband. ” all you could do was laugh at her delusion and remove your head from her grip as she continued to admire the player with puppy dog eyes.

after a few minuets of national anthems, the game began with a ‘kick-off’ amelie informed you. for the first few minuets you had relied on her immense football information to actually understand what was going on, but sooner or later caught on.

watching the game unfolding in front of you — you began to realize how interesting the sport actually was. anytime the opposing team had gotten close to scoring, you would almost jump out of your seat, kissing your teeth when any potential goals were missed by any psg players.

then, 11 minutes in, he scored.

he meaning, kylian mbappé.

you had become familiar with the player early on after recognizing and acknowledging the fact that you two shared the same jersey.

watching as the ball hit the back of the net with a force you didn’t know was possible, shock immediately covered your features before being converted by the look of utter happiness on amelie’s face as she dragged you out of your seat and onto your feet, jumping up and down in excitement at the first goal of the match.

deafening screams were heard all throughout the stadium as the boys on the field celebrated the goal made by their fellow teammate who had actually ran over to your section in the stands and posed with his hands in between his arms, a smirk plastered on his face as his eyes scanned the crowd, loving the sense of accomplishment he had just received.

it was then when your guys’ eyes met, staying glued on one another before he was pulled back into position. it was also then when you had decided that you we’re officially going to become a psg fangirl.

FEBRUARY 1ST — NOTICE. psg vs montpellier

saying you had become a ‘psg fangirl’ was an understatement and honestly, an insult. you had managed to attend literally every game since the first one you had attended back in november, even some world cup games, thanks to amelie’s connections.

not only had you managed to find a love for the club, but also for the sport. which had a part of you wishing you had gone down the same route as amelie and actually mastered in football, but just being able to watch the beautiful sport from the stands was enough for you.

every game you attended, you sat front and (kinda) center, wearing the same mbappé jersey amelie had given you all those months ago. of course the jerseys had changed up the past few months, but wearing the same one almost felt like tradition.

even so, if you were to wear any of your other psg jerseys, there wouldn’t be much of a difference considering all of them are in fact, mbappé jerseys. him being the first player you really learned the name of and saw commence a goal gave you a sense of loyalty to him.

amelie forever loved to mock you for your sudden switch up on the sport and how she was the one to thank, never failing to mention that she’s also to thank for your ever growing love for kylian mbappé.

it wasn’t a sense of love, at least the one she was referring to, you would say, but more of a sense of admiration. you loved the way he played the game and admired his skill and talent.

his eyes searched over the crowd of people in the stands from his standpoint on the field. he was meant to be shaking the hands of the opposing players, ensuring a game of fair play and great sportsmanship, but he was too distracted to acknowledge the occasional clap of his hand with the other players by the possibility of your presence being in the stands.

ever since he had spotted you at the game against auxerre and the one after that, continuing even occasionally throughout the world cup, he couldn’t help but look for you every match.

he couldn’t exactly explain why he insisted on acknowledging the fact that you were at each game, but it gave him a need to play better knowing you were watching. disregarding the fact you two had never necessarily interacted, he practically relied on you to get him through his games and do well.

almost everyone on the psg team knew of kylian’s little ‘crush’ on the mystery girl after neymar had accidentally blurted it out loud during a training session. ever since then he had been victim to their endless teasing.

this game felt different though, off.

kylian was majorly disappointed as he took his starting position on the field after not being able to spot you in the stands, an instant frown being etched on his face.

achraf hakimi, kylian’s best friend, was quick to notice and give him a questioning look, but the younger boy just shrugged it off, returning his attention to the game.

apparently the aspect of getting somewhere on time was something belittled to the citizens of paris as your uber had sat stuck in traffic no more than ten minutes away from the psg stadium.

you were running horribly late, already having had missed the kick-off and roughly the first fifteen minutes.

running through the stadium, you made your way to the section in which your ticket specified and made it to the row you would be situated in, only to notice it was jam packed, shit.

screams and yells echoed all around you as you turned your head towards the field, watching psg battle it out against montpellier.

being so late, you were unaware of the two penalties kylian had missed about five minutes prior to your arrival. it seemed as though his feeling was right, as this game was going totally shit for him.

making your way out of the section of the stands and somewhere into the tunnels after a few wrong turns, you searched for someone to talk to about your seat, but somehow managed getting lost.

while away, kylian had managed to suffer a thigh injury that resulted in him being brought off the pitch as he limped his way through the halls of the psg stadium on his way to the athletic trainers room. on his way there he noticed the figure of someone walking mindlessly in the halls, checking corners and shuffling their feet.

“ hé! ” ( hey! ) a voice carried heavily by a french accent is what caused you to turn around, only to be met with the silhouette of a man, presumably, due to the distance between lights and how shadowing works.

kylian as well was unable to make out your facial features as he questioned you, “ es-tu perdu? ” ( are you lost? )

a shallow silence passed between you two before you realized that the mystery man had genuinely spoken to you, “ oui … ” ( yes … )

you paused before continuing, “ je cherchais une sorte d'autorité. ma place était prise. ” ( i was looking for a kind of authority. my seat was taken )

“ i don’t work here, necessarily … ” your eyebrows creased at his response as he continued, “ but i can help you. ”

“ you can? thank you so- ”

before you could finish, your sentence was cut off by the utter most shock you entered upon seeing the kylian mbappé standing in front of you. at first he had a smile on his face, but when you took a step forward as well, your faces replayed the same emotion, shock.

love at first sight may be a cliche and something hard to believe, but for a second you felt like you were falling into an abyss of nothing but endless affection and caring.

quickly snapping out of it, though, you shut your agape mouth you hadn’t had realized opened and spoke, tone a little lower than before, almost like and unsure whisper, “ thank you so much … ”

the footballer couldn’t believe what he was seeing, looking into your eyes so up close and personal, he felt like he was falling.

“ it’s you. ”

“ sorry? ” your brows furrowed at his statement. there’s no way kylian mbappé knows who you are, right? even then, you hadn’t done anything to necessarily get on his radar, so what was he on about?

noticing his blurt of a statement, he corrected himself, “ i mean, it’s you. the girl in the stands at every game. ”

your eyes widened as you listened to his response in your head, over and over again. “ you see me? ”

“ yeah, ” he spoke with a smile, his eyes still matched onto yours, “ i mean the whole team does, we appreciate your support. ”

there was no way kylian would admit that he was the one that specifically knew you were always in the stands, no other teammate on psg looked for you like he did, but to seem less like a ‘weirdo’ lying was his best choice.

“ right, you’re … welcome? ” you added with an unsure smile. this whole situation was bizarre and if amelie were with you right now, there’s a high chance she’d be blowing out the eardrums of anyone in a five mile radius with her loud shrieks.

still dumbfounded, the boy held out his hand, “ i’m kylian. ”

all you could do was let out a low giggle at his attempt at normalcy, as if he wasn’t one of the biggest rising footballers in the world right now, and shake his hand, an immediate spark passing between the two of you,“ [Y/N]. ”

after a minute, reality began to really hit you in the face. kylian mbappé was standing in front of you, having a conversation with you, and shaking your hand, all because you were late and got lost in the tunnels.

“ wait, aren’t you supposed to be playing? ”

“ yeah.. i was, got injured though so i was on my way to get it checked out until i saw you. ” all you could do was smile up at the taller boy as he shared the same grin on his face, both of you holding an unknowing gleam in your eyes.

“ still need help to fix your seat situation? ” you immediately nodded, even though your favorite player, kylian, wasn’t going to be playing due to his injury, you still wanted to watch the game. plus, you spent money on these tickets and getting a refund was unavailable.

“ come with me, i’ll find you someone on the way to the athletic trainers room. ” he then began to lead you back pretty much in the way you came as you followed behind him. noticing his slight limp, you hoped his injury wasn’t anything severe, but since he was able to walk on his own, you pushed the though away. every now and then, kylian would look behind him to make sure you were still following him, but also, just to be able to look at you.

never in a million years would he had thought he’d be able to actually talk to you, and already, your sweet energy was welcoming enough for him to want to get to know you more.

MAY 6TH - MORE THAN. the club

the loud hums of music sounded all throughout the club as you sat at the bar with a drink in front of you, your head swarmed with thoughts almost blocking out the sound of the beat.

it’d been around three months since you first met kylian in the tunnels during the montpellier game, he’d actually helped find you someone to talk to about your seats, but before continuing on his way to get his injury checked out, he asked for your number. saying you were taken back would be an understatement, you were full blown flabbergasted.

sure, he was a nice guy, but you expected no more than for him to find you someone and then continue on his merry way, but since then, you two had actually become really close friends.

so much so to the point you were in the club with a majority of his psg teammates. you weren’t exactly sure what they were celebrating, or if they were even celebrating anything to begin with, but when you got a text from kylian inviting you out, you couldn’t decline.

the two of you had become extremely close since that day. some would say you two acted like you’d known each other for years with the way you were so comfortable around each other, but it just wasn’t hard to feel an undeniable connection when you were with kylian.

and by ‘some’ i mean the means of his teammates, but especially hakimi and neymar, who were forever teasing him over the fact that he had finally got the balls to talk to his mystery girl from the stands.

searching the club, kylian attempted to spot you somewhere within the crowd, but had been failing miserably. he’d lost you after you had told him you were going to go to the bathroom and ever since then he’s been waiting for you to make your return, which was obviously well overdue.

“ hey! ” the brazilian football star turned his head away from the woman he was talking to and looked at his best friend with a questioning stare, “ have you seen [Y/N]? ”

neymar’s mouth immediately tipped up into a sly grin at kylian’s question before he answered, “ yeah, think i saw her at the bar. ”

kylian didn’t waste a second before giving neymar a nod and walking over to the bar, he was able to recognize you almost immediately by your back profile, sat alone in a far corner.

approaching your side, something you hadn’t realized due to the loud music and your overwhelming thoughts, kylian noticed the drink in your hands, the way the condensation covered the glass due to the ice melting, seemingly, you hadn’t drank a sip. all could be explained by the look you had on your face, or lack there of. to the boy on your right, you looked almost lost, nowhere but everywhere all at once.

attempting not to startle you, kylian delicately put his hand on your shoulder which caused you to look up to your right where you were met with the familiar footballer, a small smile spreading across your face, “ hi. ”

“ are you okay? ” you couldn’t help but be a little brought back by the psg player’s question, did you not necessarily look okay?

“ yeah..? ”

distinguishing the confused tone in your answer, he explained, “ well i just meant that you’re over here alone, all gloomy and.. sad. ”

a beat of silence passed between the two of you as your eyes continued to stay latched onto his, the music in the background anything lesser than a simple hum.

“ then why don’t you take me to the dance floor? ” regret shot right through you at your stupid question. did that sound flirtatious? you hadn’t meant it to, but the few drinks you had earlier were already starting to take effect meaning you would have less of a filter.

understandably, kylian was shocked. for the few months he had known you, you weren’t very expressive, more guarded and introverted. hearing you ask such a ballsy question definitely set him off, but he wasn’t one to decline.

no matter whether or not he wanted to admit it to himself or his friends, or even you, kylian had begun to develop feelings for you. in such a short time he was able to become closer with you than anyone he had ever met. the two of you meeting and becoming friends might have been fate, but a part of him believed that the feelings he had for you were destiny.

grabbing your hand and pulling you up off the bar stool, kylian led you to the club’s dance floor where endless swarms of bodies occupied it. some upscale remix of a pop song boomed through the speakers as you two made it through the crowd of people towards the middle of the dance floor.

settling into the music, the two of you began to dance with each other, face to face, eye in eye.

sooner or later the two of you found each other with your back pressed up against his front, practically grinding on him. kylian tried to ignore the ever growing heat rushing through his body, but it was hard with your ass pressed up against his crotch. you two were just friends, plus you were intoxicated, doesn’t matter if you were only a little bit tipsy, he would never want to take advantage of you.

evidently, it got too much for kylian as he now had a undeniable boner, something you had yet to notice but kylian was hyper aware of. before anything bad could necessarily happen, he grabbed you by the forearms and turned you around, causing a look of confusion to spread across your face as you looked up at him.

before you could ask him why he had so abruptly turned you around, the crowd had begun to go a little crazy over the new song playing, causing someone to bump into from behind and push your body flat against kylian’s front.

for a few seconds, you hadn’t had noticed anything and were even more confused when kylian let out a slight grimace and kissed his teeth, but then you felt it; his boner pressing against your thigh. the only thing separating the two of you was the flimsy material of your dress and kylian’s jeans.

kylian’s attention adverted back to you, in which you were already staring at him with an embarrassed look which made him feel like shit for having such a reaction towards you when you two were nothing more than friends.

pulling away from you, kylian began to make his way through the crowd feeling nothing but disgust for himself and utter most shame. completely flabbergasted, you stayed glued in the middle of the dance floor for a few seconds before you began racing after kylian, pushing past the people in the crowd mumbling low “ sorry’s. ”

“ kylian! ” finally had caught up to the very fast striker, you grabbed his wrist, turning him around to face you. things were awkward between the two of you, you could tell by the way he was unable to look at you and a part of you felt like it was your fault, you shouldn’t have asked him to dance.

“ kylian.. ” the soft plea in your voice is what brought kylian back to you, his regretful eyes connecting with yours, “ were friends, right? ”

for a second, time felt like it had stopped in the worst way possible. it genuinely had felt like someone had shot kylian in the chest with the way his heart slowed upon hearing those words leave your lips, all he could reply with was an untrue “ yeah. ”

“ i cant do that. ”

his mind felt like it was going a thousand miles per hour, your words playing tricks on him, so much so he stuttered his next word, “ what? ”

“ i mean.. ” letting yourself think over your next few words was vital, what you had to say could either ruin the friendship you had with kylian, or change it forever. “ i cant do that, just be friends with you. ”

shaking his head and clenching his eyes shut as if he hadn’t heard you right kylian looked back down at you with furrowed brows and a beating heart, “ [Y/N], what are you trying to say? ”

“ i’m trying to say that i want more with you, kylian. ” your voice was so soft it felt as if you were going to break in half, shatter like a thin piece of glass. the aspect of rejection was something that was being over looked by your slight intoxication, but still creeping up on you.

letting go of his wrist, you waited for kylian to say something, anything, but were met with nothing and it broke your heart.

stupid, stupid, stupid.

you’d put yourself out there and ruined the one good thing you had. tears began to swell up in your eyes as you looked at kylian who’s expression seemed… blank?

“ i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have- ” before you could finish your apology, the warmth of kylian’s palms were brought to your cheeks as he pulled you into him where your lips connected. time seemed to stop and in the best way possible as you both melted into the kiss.

the loudness of the club around you was dubbed out as it was just the two of you, mouth to mouth.

breaking the kiss and laying his forehead against yours, kylian looked down into your eyes and almost whispered, “ i want more with you, too. ”

with a smile, your lips came in contact once again as a tear slid down your face, one of happiness and relief. as you kissed, the feeling of warmth spread all throughout your body and as if you’ve always known him, you felt at home.

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappe one shot #football #football imagine #soccer #soccer imagine #world cup 2022 #psg #paris saint germain #france #world cup #neymar jr #achraf hakimi

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cha-melodius · 8 months

Text

Cold Light

(For @natendo-art, who asked for Loki & Mobius in Norway or Iceland, potentially watching the northern lights; tumblr ATE your ask, but fortunately not before I got your prompt out of it. Thank you so much!)

chamel's fandom fest info | read all the fics

(lokius, 3.6k, M; read it below or on AO3)

With a sickening crunch of grinding gears, the engine of Mobius’ rental car seizes up and leaves him coasting to a stop on the side of the road. He’s about fifty kilometers outside of the nearest town of any size, and it’s late. There hasn’t been another car on the road for a while. His phone shows not a single bar of service.

In short, he’s completely screwed.

For a few minutes he considers his options. He could conserve heat and wait until morning in the car, when hopefully there might be more traffic traveling this route. It’s not yet fully winter, so he might be ok. He could see if he can tell what’s wrong with the engine, though that seems futile. He does enough remote research to have a working knowledge of simple engines, but a late-model car with all its electrical components is probably beyond him. Walking anywhere is pretty much out of the question, though he supposes there’s a chance he might find some kind of farmhouse.

It feels fatalistic to not even look at the engine. With a sigh, he pops the hood and extracts himself from the warm cabin of the car. About five seconds after he lifts the hood, he realizes he doesn’t have a flashlight. It’s probably moot; there’s a rather sickening burnt odor emanating from the engine block.

Lovely.

He’s just turning away when he hears the tell-tale purr of an engine approaching, and a moment later twin headlights swing around the curve down the road. As the light washes over him, Mobius puts his hand up and prays for a good samaritan. The car continues to get closer seemingly without slowing, resolving into something black and sleek and expensive-looking, and Mobius is already mentally cursing the driver when it abruptly screeches to halt next to him. Even if his night vision hadn’t been blasted to hell, the windows are tinted, so he can’t see a damned thing about the car’s occupant until the driver’s side door swings open and a tall person in a long, dark coat gracefully unfolds from within.

“Thank god,” Mobius breathes, sending a cloud out in front of him. It’s colder than he thought. “Hi. Hello. Sorry, my Norwegian’s a little rusty. Do you speak English?”

Lit up from the side by the glow of the headlights, his savior resolves into someone more-or-less masculine-presenting as Mobius approaches, with shoulder-length dark hair framing a handsome, angular face. From what Mobius can see, he’s wearing a suit under his wool coat, with a luxurious green scarf looped around his neck. He looks like he belongs in New York, or London, or at the very least Oslo, and not in the middle of fucking nowhere in the farthest northern reaches of Norway.

“I do,” the man answers in an unexpectedly British accent. “I take it you’re in some trouble?”

“You could say that, yeah,” Mobius huffs, glancing back at the vehicle. “Engine’s caput.”

“Yours?”

“Rental.”

“Ah,” the man says. “Mind if I take a look?”

Huh. Unexpected, but Mobius just shrugs. “Knock yourself out. But, er. I don’t have a flashlight.”

In response, the man pulls out a phone and turns the flash on—Jesus, why didn’t he think of that?—then hands it over to Mobius to hold as he gingerly leans over the engine.

“There was a crunch,” Mobius offers. “Before it stopped.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” the man replies as he straightens up again. Whatever he was doing he seems to be done with, even though he hasn’t touched a thing. He stares up at the sky for a moment, as if lost in thought; in the silence that follows, Mobius watches ribbons of what’s shaping up to be a rather spectacular display of the aurora borealis begin winding their way across the night’s sky behind him.

“So? What do you think?”

“Hm?”

“About the engine.”

“Oh, I don’t actually know anything about engines.”

Mobius stares at him for a beat in disbelief. “Then why’d you want to see it?”

The man shrugs, a vaguely amused expression playing on his features. “Seemed like a thing one does when your vehicle breaks down.”

Mobius can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes him, and he shakes his head. Everyone’s a comedian, apparently.

“I presume you might like a ride?” the man asks.

“Is that a real offer or just something you do when you see someone stranded by the side of the road?” Mobius counters.

The smile pulling at one corner of the man’s mouth deepens. “A real one. Although I think I’m headed in the opposite direction of your travel.”

“Not picky,” Mobius says. “If you can get me somewhere with cell service and a place to stay the night, I’m good. I’ll work out the rest in the morning.”

The man inclines his head and makes an ‘after you’ gesture toward his car, so Mobius grabs his belongings from the backseat of the rental and transfers them to the other vehicle. It’s meticulous inside, all gleaming black leather without a single scuff, and Mobius feels distinctly shabby in comparison. His bag is beat to hell and filthy. He probably should have put it in the trunk.

It’s only once he’s buckling himself into the front seat that Mobius realizes that they never actually introduced themselves. “I’m Mobius, by the way,”

The man’s attention flickers over to him momentarily as he pulls back into the road. “A pleasure to meet you, Mobius,” he replies. But then, instead of offering his own name in return, he just asks, “What brings you Magerøya?”

Hm. Mobius considers pushing, but in the end he lets it go. For now. “Research,” he answers. “I study the effects of climate change in the boreal forest.”

“So you know the area well.”

“Spend three months of every year here collecting data.”

“In the middle of winter?”

Mobius smirks to himself; it’s a question he gets a lot. “Best time to detect the effects I’m looking for.”

What is surprising is how many questions the man asks; he gets Mobius going, and it’s easy to forget that he’s not shared a single thing about himself. Easy, but Mobius doesn’t, in fact, forget. Maybe he wants to be mysterious, but Mobius has brash American inquisitiveness on his side. He likes to know people.

They’re approaching the outskirts of a small village when the conversation lulls and Mobius sees his chance. “So are you gonna tell me your name, or am I just going to have to refer to you as my tall, dark, and handsome savior?”

The man glances over at him, clearly amused, though whether by the question or Mobius calling him handsome is unclear. After another beat, he answers, “It’s Loki.”

“Suits you,” Mobius says, which earns him a quirked eyebrow. “I just mean— I don’t know. But it does.”

“I’m sure my parents will be very pleased.”

“Are you from around here originally?”

Loki glances at him again, his expression unreadable. “Not exactly.”

They ride the rest of the short distance in silence, and before Mobius can figure out something else to say, they’re pulling up in front of a small tavern that’s miraculously still open. The warm lights spilling out of it shine through the window and highlight the fine lines of Loki’s nose and cheekbones, and Mobius spares a millisecond of disappointment that he’ll never get to find out what’s lurking behind those blue-green eyes. Instead, he thanks Loki for the ride and gets out of the car, ducking into the back for his things.

He’s halfway to the door of the tavern when he hears a window roll down behind him.

“You’re wrong about one thing, Mobius,” Loki calls out to him as he turns to look back.

“What’s that?”

The expression on Loki’s face is grim. “I’m nobody’s savior.”

With that, he speeds off down the road like some kind of spirit that has granted a boon and disappeared into the night, leaving you wondering if they were ever really real.

~~~~~

Loki, as it turns out, is very, very real.

Real enough to push him up against a wall outside the one bar in town, slip a thigh between his legs, and kiss him hard enough to bruise. Real enough to dig long, slender fingers into his neck and under his belt, to make him gasp as his hips grind forward, to bite down on Mobius’ lower lip until it stings.

“I’ve got a room in town,” Mobius manages at one point when they come up for air, as he stares up into the night sky. It’s cleared up after the storm earlier, and delicate green tendrils are twisting their way across the milky way.

“Perfect,” Loki purrs into his neck. “Let’s go.”

Running into Loki again had not been on Mobius’ bingo card for this field season. He’d come into town from the field station for supplies, only for the weather to turn and certainly make the dirt roads back to his site impassible. Fortunately he’d been able to grab a room at a little bed and breakfast that was only too happy to have the off-season business. When he’d ventured out to the tavern for a beer and some food, the very last person Mobius expected to see had been sitting at the bar.

At first, Mobius wondered if his company would be welcome after how they’d parted. He’d taken the stool next to him, but left the approach up to Loki. It hadn’t taken long. Loki seemed to be in a better mood than their first encounter. He’d asked how Mobius was doing (fine), inquired about life at the field station (a bit monotonous). Maybe it was the drinks. Maybe it was something else. Mobius wasn’t going to question it.

The next surprise had been the flirting. Look, it’s been a while—too busy with his work was the old excuse—but Mobius knows when he’s being hit on. They’d talked, they’d drunk, they’d laughed, they’d drunk some more, Loki had suggested they move to a booth, then hooked his foot between Mobius’ in a way that left little open to interpretation.

And now they’re here, Mobius pressed against the wall next to the light switch of his room, even though the bed is barely ten steps away, with Loki’s lips wrapped around his cock. The man is a wonder with his tongue, and it really has been a while, so Mobius is rapidly hurtling toward the precipice of his own release when Loki pulls off with an obscene pop.

“Will you fuck me?” he asks, clear evidence of his previous activities in the rough scratch of his voice.

Shit. Mobius swallows hard. “I don’t have any—”

“I do,” Loki interrupts before he can finish, which is really something. “Will you?”

For all their conversation tonight, he still knows basically nothing about this man. This is insane. But then Loki slides a hand up along his shaft, thumbing teasingly under the head, and he bites back a groan. “Jesus, yes.”

This time, at least, they make it to the bed.

~~~~~

III

Loki is gone without a trace before Mobius wakes up the next morning, and Mobius doesn’t see him again for another three weeks. That, too, is a surprise: Bea said she hired a guide with a boat to take him out to some remote fjord that’s unaccessible by any other means, a new place he hasn’t actually sampled. Mobius imagines some grizzled Norwegian fisherman with a white beard and a wool cap pulled down over his lined face. What he finds when he gets to the dock at the designated time is Loki.

Loki, looking down as he coils a rope next to a small but well-kept fishing boat with the name Frigga painted on the side, wearing a thick, oatmeal-colored cabled sweater, his black hair falling like a curtain around his face. Long fingers that pressed so cleverly to Mobius’ skin work through a knot in the line, and Mobius feels something hot flare in his gut. God dammit, this is not what he needed today.

“You’re the one Bea hired,” Mobius says in lieu of a greeting as he approaches, shifting his bag of gear over his shoulder.

Loki looks up at him, his face unreadable. “It appears so.”

“Didn’t know you had a boat.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Mobius says pointedly. To this, Loki says nothing, returning his attention to the rope in his hands. “Did you know it was me when you took the job?”

“I had an idea.”

That’s… something. Mobius doesn’t know what. It feels silly to be hurt by the fact that Loki left without so much as a note when it was pretty clear what he’d been after from the start. They’re not friends; they’re barely acquaintances. They fucked once. It didn’t mean anything.

(It felt like it had meant something, when Mobius had called him sweetheart and said let me take care of you, and Loki had whimpered out a broken please and held on tightly enough to leave bruises on Mobius’ skin that had lingered for days.)

“Well,” Mobius says. “Ready when you are, I guess.”

Things are tense at first. They don’t speak except to confirm the sites on the map where Mobius wants to visit. Loki watches him intently as he works, though there’s no sense of impatience in it. He just… watches, with some degree of interest. Maybe his questions about Mobius’ research that first night in the car weren’t just deflection.

“D’ya wanna help?” Mobius asks at the third stop.

Loki actually looks around like there could possibly be anyone else in the vicinity. “Me?”

“No, the marmot half a hill over,” Mobius says sardonically. “Yes, you. Would go faster with two pairs of hands.”

“Don’t you have a field assistant?”

“She had other sites to visit today.”

Mobius doesn’t wait, just starts setting up the equipment as he has at the previous localities. Somehow, he feels like he has learned something about this man, and his instincts are right. Sure enough, a few minutes later Loki cautiously approaches him.

Got ‘im, Mobius thinks, hiding his smirk.

“What, er,” Loki hedges, “would you like me to do?”

It does go more quickly with two people; quickly enough that Mobius thinks he can get in a few more sites before the early sunset. When he proposes this to Loki, he’s surprised again.

“We can keep going until nightfall,” Loki tells him.

“You can navigate back in the dark?” Mobius asks uncertainly. He hadn’t seen much in the way of electronics in the cabin.

Loki just nods as he stares out in front of the boat. “I know these waters well.”

They settle into an easier routine after that as they visit the remaining sites. Now that the dam has been breached, Loki starts talking again—though for a man who clearly likes to talk, he almost never says anything. He tells stories about nothing, regales Mobius with Norse myths of his namesake, gossips about the townsfolk that Mobius has had occasion to get to know. Mobius can tell that Loki doesn’t think he’s giving anything away, but Mobius is not your usual observer. Not by a long shot.

Night falls swiftly this time of year, and with it comes yet another vivid aurora. The phenomenon isn’t uncommon up here, of course, but Mobius feels like he’s never seen them quite so spectacularly as when he’s with Loki. But maybe that’s just the hopeless romantic in him.

Loki has somehow managed to—accidentally, no doubt—get himself talking about his boat as they head back toward the village, and Mobius pounces.

“Why Frigga?”

Loki is silent for a moment, his skin washed a faint green by the northern lights. “For my mother,” he says, so softly Mobius almost doesn’t hear him over the motor. He looks over at Mobius, and there’s something terribly laid bare in his expression. “To remind me of her and her stories.”

This time, Mobius doesn’t push.

~~~~~

“Who the everloving fuck is knocking at the door at this hour?” Bea says, with no small amount of irritation.

Mobius can’t help but agree with her sentiment, if not her delivery. The field station is three hours outside of the closest village on terrible roads. He’s not sure a single person has ever come out here that they didn’t explicitly ask to do so. Certainly not at nine o’clock at night. In fact, it’s more likely that whoever it is could be in trouble of some kind. There aren’t a lot of hikers around this time of year, but the ones that are here often seem to have a bit of a screw loose. With a sigh, Mobius levers himself out of his comfy chair and heads over to the front door, which creaks on its hinges as he opens it.

The person on the other side is not, in fact, lost.

“Loki? What are you doing here?”

“Well, hello to you too,” Loki replies. He’s quite thoroughly bundled up against the midwinter chill, his nose gone slightly pink, but there’s a tiny, tentative smile curling his lips.

“Hi, yeah, sorry,” Mobius says, taking a step back. “C’mon, get in out of the cold.”

Loki just shakes his head. “Actually, I was hoping you’d join me?”

“Join you where?”

“There’s a clearing at the top of a cliff nearby with excellent views. I have good reason to think the northern lights will be particularly stunning tonight, and I thought…” Loki trails off, looking abruptly sheepish.

“Close the goddamned door!” Bea calls from behind him, making them both jump.

Mobius makes a snap decision and grabs his winter gear, following Loki out into the cold and tugging the door closed behind him. The air has that heavy silence it only gets in the winter, when there’s snow on the ground deadening all sounds. It’s a crystal clear night, and Mobius’ breath plumes out in huge clouds in front of him as he shrugs into his coat.

“You thought?” Mobius prompts.

Loki looks briefly startled. “Oh, I just thought we could… spend some time together?”

“Did you now?” Mobius replies, unable to stop the grin that’s taking over his face. Especially when Loki makes a point to look exceedingly pained by this admission.

“Do you want to go or not?” Loki huffs with an attempt at irritation that doesn’t quite hit the mark. “I brought wine.”

“Oh, well, if there’s wine.”

“I don’t know why I came out here.”

Mobius levels a look at him. “Why did you come out here, Loki?”

“I told you, I was nearby—” Loki tries.

“No one is nearby here,” Mobius says, cutting him off. “Ever.”

A beat of silence passes, then another as Loki looks up into the trees and blows out a pensive breath. “Because I wanted to, all right? Your company isn’t… unpleasant.”

“A truly glowing endorsement.”

“Yes, well,” Loki says, biting down on a smile. “If you knew me better, you’d know that it is.”

“I think I’m starting to get the picture,” Mobius tells him as they start walking. He’s pretty sure he knows where they’re going, since he knows the area around the field station quite well, but he’s happy to let Loki lead. Their boots crunch on the snow as they wend their way through the trees along some ancient path toward the sea. “You’ve been here before,” he ventures eventually, not quite a question.

Loki gives a small nod. “Not for quite some time, though. Certainly there was no field station the last time I was here.” He slants a small smile toward Mobius. “Love what you’ve done with the place.”

“The university said the landowners were very encouraging of research activities on the property,” Mobius says, watching him carefully. “That’s you? You’re the landowner?”

“My mother left it to me,” Loki confirms. “For a long time after her death I couldn’t really bear being up here, so I left its management up to a third party. I do try to keep up with the active projects, though.”

“So that first night, when you asked me about my research…”

“I figured out who you were rather quickly, yes. But I was curious,” Loki says as he slows to a stop near some low boulders in the middle of the clearing. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who made me so curious as you do, Mobius.”

“I’m really not that interesting,” Mobius protests, huffing a self-deprecating laugh.

Loki shifts closer, sliding a gloved hand onto Mobius’ waist and drawing him in until their noses nearly brush together. “I disagree,” he murmurs, then he closes the remaining gap between them.

His lips are cold and dry from the winter air, but they part readily, welcoming Mobius to the heat within. It’s so different from every kiss they’ve shared previously; there’s no urgency, no desperation, no sense of being kept at arm’s length even as they fall into each other. Loki kisses him with slow and unwavering purpose, as if pouring weeks of unspoken feeling into it, all the things he hid behind idle chatter and silver words, and it leaves Mobius far more breathless than can be explained by a simple lack of oxygen.

Eventually they do part, though not without a few more stolen kisses, and Loki pulls him down to sit on the boulders. They huddle close, tangled in each other’s arms against the chill, and because it feels impossible to keep any space between them now that Loki is letting him in.

“So does this mean I get to learn more about you?” Mobius asks cheekily as Loki fishes a flask of wine out from somewhere deep in his coat. Loki gives him a look, and he grins. “I’m curious.”

A soft puff of laughter escapes Loki. “What do you want to know?”

“Tell me about your mother,” Mobius says. “If you want.”

Loki smiles softly at him, and there, under the breathtaking northern lights, he tells a story.

#lokius #loki x mobius #loki laufeyson #mobius m. mobius #loki fanfic #loki fic #loki series #loki tv #my fic #chamel's fandom fest

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goodgirlofglory · 1 year

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Silver fox and the Captain - Chapter 2

Chapter 1 - /Masterpost/ - Chapter 3

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 3,6k

Warnings: Explicit language, canon level violence, a little bit of kissin'

Summary: Steve has caught your scent, and in scrambling desperation, you use a dirty trick to escape him. Could this incidentally light a flame between the two of you?

Your media consumption is your own responsibility, but I advise you to not engage if the content of the warnings upset you. My work is not to be distributed outside this blog.

Likes, reblogs, replies and asks are amazing💖💖

Enjoy!

You tugged on the neckline of your dress. The plunging neckline of your dress, trying to get it just an inch higher in hopes of preventing your tits from escaping into the fucking night.

“Stupid fucking club with it’s stupid fucking dresscode,” you snarled under your breath, failing at moving the neckline higher and giving up with a frustrated huff. The black, floor length dress with thin straps and a fabric that clung to every nook and curve of your body wasn’t really your style, but it was perfect for the occasion.

The Avengers were taking their sweet time tonight. It was nearing five in the morning and you’d been standing patiently waiting for chaos to erupt for nearly three hours at this point.

The bust of the night was a secret smuggling deal taking place in one of the biggest and most exclusive casinos in Bangkok. Your contact Missy had given you the intel, just like she’d given S.H.I.E.L.D the intel. For a pretty penny of course. She had swindled you outright, the greedy cow. But if everything she’d told you was true, this would be lucrative. Some very small, but top secret and highly dangerous tech which according to some sources, could take down entire governments in a single night if applied correctly. That was worth the wait, and the dress, as long as the Avengers got their asses in gear and started blowing shit up soon.

Overlooking the main floor of the establishment from a balcony lounge area, you nursed your water on ice and feigned haughty confidence and boredom. Actually, you didn’t have to feign that last part at all.

A few men had approached you so far. Sleezy, sweaty and drenched in cologne, leering at your cleavage and ass and leaning so close you could smell the booze on their breath. You’d successfully deterred them with polite and decidedly less polite rejections, and were preparing a curt refusal when you sensed another one sauntering up to your side.

“Have we met before?” the man asked, and you spun to him, insult on the tip of your tongue…

And then the words died in your throat as Captain America stood beside you.

He was in a suit. Not the spandex superhero-kind, but a tight, perfectly tailored three piece in black. No, not black, but a dark, dark metallic blue, the material shining just the tiniest bit in the dimmed, warm lighting of the casino. He looked….well shoot, he looked good. He carried the garments with the same kind of confidence and power he bore his Avengers suit, which in this situation turned into fucking bravado, walking around in mortal clothes like that. Plus the way his thighs bulged in those pants were -

You realized you were staring, and reigned your eyes in, turning back to look out over the casino. You told yourself it wasn’t entirely certain he recognised you. He’d only ever seen you with a mask on, and you were without it tonight. Sometimes wearing no mask was the best mask, particularly in this kind of situation.

“No,” you said curtly, sipping your water.

“Liar,” came the answer from the side.

Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

You turned to him.

“Really, mister -?”

“Rogers,” he said with a lift of the corner of his mouth that you did your damnest not to linger on.

“Mr. Rogers. I’m sure you’re mistaking me for someone else,” you said, giving him a perfectly pleasant smile.

“Could be,” he said, putting one hand on the railing and looking out on the casino floor, teeming with people. It was a busy night, and a full on brass band was playing on the stage in the corner of the main floor to dampen some of the noise from the patrons. You kept your eyes on him. Was it possible to convince him you were here by coincidence? “But I think not. Where’s your bag tonight?” he asked

Okay, no need to keep any charade up then.

“In the coat room? So much easier than dragging it around,” you said, dropping your polite tone.

What would he do now that he’d sussed you out?

“Of course. You don’t need it yet, right?” he said, a shrewd look on his face when you glanced at him. He was smirking almost like he was enjoying himself. Your mind rambled as you stared at that smirk. Surely he didn’t think you were in alliance with the smugglers or anything? Did you have to avoid getting arrested by the Avengers tonight as well as get your hands on some of the goods? Plotting the escape route in this maze had been hard enough.

“Not sure I’ll need it at all,” you answered, talking into your glass before taking another sip.

He snorted next to you, and the empty conversation died. He didn’t leave though. Just looked out at the scenery while you snook another peek at him. The top button on his white shirt was undone, but otherwise he was as perfect as could be. Not a single wrinkle in his clothes, not a hair out of line in that perfect slicked back look, not a blemish in sight. You had the inexplicable urge to rumple him. And then watch his face as you took off with a bag full of loot. You were certain no smirk would align his face then.

“Who are you?” he asked as he looked onto the scenery. He probably sensed you studying him. Good, let it unnerve him. He’d asked you the same the first time you met, but this time there wasn’t any sternness or animosity in his voice. No command, no calculated collecting of intel. He only sounded…curious.

“No one you need to concern yourself with, Captain America,” you answered. It was true. Compared to the type of big scale criminals the Avengers busted on a regular basis, you were nothing. One woman working alone to earn a living. Through smuggling and selling illegally obtained high end technology, sure. But still. “Don’t you have places to be? People to arrest? Or are you here to play the slots?”

He glanced side-long at you.

“I’m not much of a gambler,” he said.

“Then off you go. Aren’t you gambling right now, chatting with little old me instead of doing whatever it is you’re gonna do tonight?”

He turned fully towards you, effortlessly elegant in his perfectly shined Oxford shoes.

“Are you planning on interfering again?”

You put a hand to your chest and made an exasperated gasp.

“Me? Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”

“Listen. If you try and take something today, I will have no choice but to hunt you down and bring you in too,” he warned, and to your surprise, seemed almost sorry to say it.

“Is that a promise?” you asked sweetly.

He held your gaze for a moment longer, and then his eyes dropped, raking over your figure in a none too subtle swipe. Your whole body flushed.

Your own eyes flitted over his body, partly looking for signs he was gonna pounce on you, your fight or flight reflex kicking to life - and partly just…looking.

The air between you sizzled for the tiniest moment, something potent sparking to life, before a gunshot broke through the reverie of the casino like a lightning bolt through damp summer air, and chaos erupted.

Mr. Rogers looked towards the ground floor, where screams rose as the whole floor flailed in sudden panic. People scrambled off counters, fell from chairs and clamped on top of each other in order to get away. The shrieks and screams grew to a pinching volume, the music from the brass band ending abruptly and unceremoniously, drinks and dices and money flying everywhere. More gun shots went off. You saw your chance and bounced, slipping into the crowd on the balcony before the captain looked back, and then you were moving swiftly.

You ripped the skirt of your dress off, revealing the sport shorts you had on underneath, and kicked your heels off. Slipping into the hidden employee only door at the back of the balcony floor, you padded the back halls on silent, naked feet. A few waitresses came rushing past you, wild looks on their faces, and then some dealers and even cooks, all running the other way. No one so much as gave you a second look, and you continued on to the kitchens, then the wardrobes where you’d stashed your bag, boots and mask.

Boots on and bag over your shoulder, you slipped your mask on for good measure and slipped back into the casino behind the bar on the main floor. Perched in the shadows behind the abandoned counter, you watched as the chaos continued. You spotted Captain America, who had discarded his suit jacket and was fist fighting two men at once, effectively dodging and knocking their guns out of their hands before taking them out with efficient, brutal blows. Iron Man blasted in through a hole in the wall, small, electric missiles shooting out of his suit and taking out at least half a dozen gun wielding guards at once. Black Widow appeared from out of nowhere, taking down a goon with a flying chest kick. You never really got tired of watching them fight. It was brilliant. But you needed to find the wares before they calmed the situation down. You needed to be out of there before Captain America had his hands free and enough mental space unoccupied to remember you.

Black Widow spoke something into her wrist, and then she disappeared into one of the backrooms - darker, private lounges for the richest patrons. Bingo. You slipped out from behind the bar and took the employee hallway to the backrooms.

Cracking the door open, you found the backroom lounge to be quieter, though the air was thick with tension, a tension ready to snap. Just as you closed the door behind you, movement in your peripheral made you turn around on instinct. You barely managed to bring your arms up before a man dressed in a black tux tried to bash your head in with a baton. You cried out in pain as the baton hit your forearms instead, staggering back from the force.

Fucking hell, this was not good. You weren’t trained in hand-on-hand combat, not like these guys, and had practically no strength compared to these kinds of men. Your mind scrambled to think of what you could do, but the pain was overpowering your ability to think fast. The man went to grab you by the head, his fist closing around the fabric of your mask. As you fell backwards on your ass, the mask was torn from your face. The man snarled before raising the batton to strike you again. But before he could swing, his body spasmed in a flash of blue electric sparks before falling to the ground with a dull thud, right in front of your feet.

Behind him, Black Widow stood, her wrist still sparking slightly with neon blue. She looked at you, and if she was surprised or puzzled to see you, nothing in her face revealed it. You stared at her, and her brow arched just the tiniest bit.

“So you’re the little mouse following us, huh?” she said.

No way, she knew who you were?! Wait, mouse?

“I prefer silver fox, actually,” you blurted, sounding petulant even to your own ears. You hadn’t really spoken the nickname you’d given yourself out loud before, certainly not asked anyone to call you that. But you figured if you were gonna have a handle anyways, it was not gonna be something as lame as little mouse.

Her perfect, plump lips ticked up in a smirk that could cut a man.

“That’s a nice name, pick it out yourself?” she asked, and the sticky sweet nonchalance of her tone made you feel like you were slipping about on ice.

You were about to snark something back at her, but she had gone, slipped away deeper into the dimly lit lounge area.

You snarled to yourself. God, she was so cool. And she’d seen your face. Shit. Prying your mask from the man knocked out cold on the floor, you slipped it back on before getting shakily to your feet.

You followed her path deeper into the casino, figuring she would be the best pointer to the wares and your ultimate goal.

The area snaked about in turns and bends draped in shadow with gauzy curtains secluding different booths and tables. You slipped on silent feet in the dark, following the commotion left by Black Widow taking out more hostiles. Silence fell slowly, the noises of punching growing fewer and further between. Soon, you found yourself huddled in a corner behind a lounge booth, waiting.

Both Captain America and Black Widow knew you were here, and soon your window to escape would close. You needed to focus.

Your arms still ached dully from the earlier blow, and you were flushed with adrenaline. It went so quiet for a moment you thought you might have to abandon your plan all together when the room suddenly exploded in shouts, punches and furniture splintering, and then flashing, blue lights lit up the room. A dozen men at least must have ambushed Black Widow, and before you knew it, Iron Man came blasting into the room, followed close behind by Hawkeye, the newly initiated Winter Soldier and then Captain America came after. Rogers was the only one clad in civilian clothing, you noticed. The rest were decked up in their ridiculous suits, flashing high tech fabrics, gadgets and other dingle dangle you’d kill to get a closer look at.

And then you saw your window, as chaos roared in the dimly lit lounge area, you peeked out from your hiding spot and saw everyone sufficiently busy beating up smuggler men. And there, having fallen under a table three booths over, was a small, grey suitcase you recognised from Missy’s intel. Your goal. You didn’t need the whole thing. Far from it, only one of those nanochips would be more than enough to make the trouble worth it.

Crawling on all fours between the booths, you made your way over to the suitcase while goons, blue and yellow energy blasts as well as fucking arrows flew overhead, the noise almost deafening.

You opened the suitcase with nimble fingers and effectively snatched a chip up before slipping it into your bra.

With a single minded focus, you crawled back through the shadows and made the painstaking process of sneaking out of the lounge area, through the brightly lit and completely empty employee hallways and up through the vast building to the roof. The silence of the empty hallways was a painful contrast to the lounge area, and your ears were ringing from the earlier noise. It didn’t matter, you told yourself. Staircase after staircase you trekked, swiping codes and cards you’d stolen earlier to create a tangled passage that would bring you up, up, up where a path over the rooftops of the city would transport you more swiftly than trying to navigate the streets full of panicked people below.

The warm and humid night air met you like an embrace as you barged out the rooftop exit. You immediately took off on a sprint and had nearly gotten to the edge of the building when a familiar figure landed in front of you as if he’d come hurtling out of the sky itself. You yelped and tried to screen to the right, but a large hand clasping firmly around your upper arm had you scrambling off balance and crashing straight into Steve Rogers’s chest.

Your breath left you on a whoosh and you yanked back, trying to shake his grip off you. He didn’t bunch.

“Let me go,” you ordered in your most intimidating voice. This was not good, not good at all.

“Not until you give what you took,” he said back, and you looked up at him. His hair was sufficiently tousled now, the ends sticking out and covered in sweat and soot. Another button had popped on his shirt, and his vest was crumpled, straining against his rapidly moving chest. A clavicle was peeking out from the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, and you let it enchant you for a second. You looked up at his face, his brows set in an impressive furrow.

“We got to stop meeting like this,” you said.

“I’d gladly meet in any other setting,” he retorted immediately. He was clearly displeased.

“Well then you better ask me out quickly, cause I’m leaving,” you said, trying to wiggle your way out of his steel grip on your bicep.

You noticed then that he had a cut above his brow, a slow trail of bright, red blood leaking out of it and down into the hair of his eyebrow.

“You’re hurt,” you said, or blurted out more like. Your hand reached instinctively to his face, and his other hand snatched your forearm to stop you, squeezing just where the baton had hit you earlier. You winced at the pain, and the Captain’s eyes widened a bit in realization before his grip eased.

“So are you,” he said, and the obvious tone of concern made you cringe.

You shrugged stiffly.

“Nothing I haven’t felt before,” you said. You needed to figure out how to get out of his grip. After that, you were sure you could get away with the route you’d made beforehand.

Your response had somehow only made the concern in his eyes deeper, the set of his brows even more determined.

“You really shouldn’t be out here in these situations. It’s dangerous,” he said.

“Gee, really, who told you that?” you said, plastering on a nasty smile.

He sighed through flared nostrils, and your smile widened. Get under his skin, get out of his grip.

“Where’s the chip?” he asked, and the exasperation in his voice was delicious.

An idea occurred to you. You took a step closer, pushing yourself up against his massive frame, and pressed your chest, still dressed in that plunging neckline, up to him before batting your eyelashes at him.

“Won’t you have a look for yourself, see if you can find it?” you said.

He blinked, his eyes widening more, and even in the dark night, you saw the most adorable flush creep up his neck before stealing across his cheeks. Oh boy, interesting.

His eyes dipped to your cleavage and then up, his mouth parting to say something, though no sound came out. Your answering smile was genuine.

Easily flustered, then. Jackpot.

“Though you might have to look thoroughly,” you said, letting your voice drop low to a whisper, “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

You saw his throat bob as he swallowed, his adorable flush deepening to crimson. His grip flexed around your arm, but to your surprise, he didn’t flinch back in disgust, or sputter some affronted refusal. He seemed frozen in place, eyes flicking between yours, like some internal conflict was warring inside him.

Fine, you thought, mustering the courage to take it one step further, and rose to your toes to kiss him. You crashed your lips so hard together, you could feel his teeth through the layers of skin, and the vibrations of his surprised sound rumbled through you.

His skin was warm, and his breath rushed hot through his nose, fanning your face. You waited, eyes shut, senses honed on the grip he had on your arm, waiting for the tiniest let up so you could wrench free. Instead, his other hand cupped your cheek, and then he reiterated the kiss.

Wait, what?

His hand moved back to cup the back of your neck, fingers sifting through your hair, and the sensation of his fingers tickling the skin of your neck had you gasping. His mouth opened against yours and then the kiss turned wet, the point of his tongue teasing yours.

His other hand joined the first, cupping your head in a large grip that felt simultaneously possessive and…gentle, like you were something that needed to be handled with care. A small noise lodged in the back of your throat.

And then you realized he’d let go of your arm, and you hadn’t even noticed, so engrossed had you been in the kiss.

Your mind kicked into high gear, and you dropped down, out of his gentle grasp on your head, before swiping around and getting into a sprint. The rooftop edge was a few feet away, and you flung out the wire handle from your bag and flung yourself onto the wire, riding it down to the next building over, landing on the roof with heavy thuds of your boots. Your lips tingled. You wobbled for a split second before regaining your balance, and then promptly turned to snap the wire back from the casino building.

Looking over to the building you’d just wired from, Captain America stood on the ledge, looking at you, but making no move. You’d calculated right then, from all your years observing them, that he couldn’t make this large a leap. He had his vest in his hand, probably meant as a makeshift wire handle, and you thanked the stars you’d retreated the wire quick enough.

You stood there for a moment, looking at him looking at you, and it occurred to you he could try and get to you some other way. The longer you stalled, the longer he had to plot out some alternative route to follow you. But he made no move, only looked at you, and though you couldn’t see his face clearly, you swore there was some amused resignation in his appearance. Was he letting you go?

You didn’t stay long enough to test his limits (or your insane luck). You gave him a salut, didn’t contain your shit eating grin, and bolted into the night, the chip firmly digging into the underside of your breast.

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x female!reader #captain america fanfiction #captain america fanfic #captain america x reader #captain america x y/n #captain america x you #captain america x female!reader #captain america x f!reader #silver fox and the captain

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darcymariaphoster · 8 months

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Choose Your Own Adventure: Part Two

“I’m fine,” Lukas replies nonchalantly. “I’m always extra serious. What makes today any different?”

Mathias hesitates and then clarifies, "You know where we are, right?"

Lukas blinks slowly at him. "Of course I do. Some of us frequent these trails." He sort of hopes he's convincing. He has been on these trails quite a few times. But the problem lies in the fact that the trail he's picked is one he actually hasn't hiked before. He'd looked it up, talked to other people in the area, and knew that it was a really pretty hike. He'd wanted to impress Mathias. He’s not entirely sure if it’s working or not; his friend being loud and cheerful actually makes it hard for Lukas to read him.

“I’m just checking,” Mathias replies and if he’s nervous, Lukas can’t hear it in his voice. They pack their things again and continue on. “So, the book that I’m reading. I’m pretty sure the main character’s girlfriend is a vampire.”

“That wasn’t an obvious part of the plot? What kind of book did you choose?” Lukas snorts, rolling his eyes.

Mathias scoffs. “Some young adult novel. The back didn’t reveal much, one of those ‘but she has a dark secret that could destroy them both’, sort of lines. I had a hunch, but I wasn’t sure so I just had to look into it. Anyway, it still hasn’t been explicitly stated, and I’m something like halfway through the book.”

“I would have given up by now,” Lukas admits, amused. "How is it still not revealed but also so heavily hinted at?" And Mathias is off, describing his book in detail. He's animated when he talks, hands always moving, and his expressions sometimes say more than he does. He's interesting. Lukas nods along, doing his best to pay attention and comment where necessary. The book sounds horrendous, and he can’t help but snicker at the idea of Mathias being curled up on the couch, absolutely absorbed in it.

“What are you reading?” Mathias asks when he’s finished talking. “Give me a sneak peek?” And who can resist a puppy dog pout like that?

They chat mindlessly for some time, and then Mathias looks up at the sky. “Something wrong?”

“Well, it’s…getting late,” Mathias mutters, looking around.

Oh, there is no way that Lukas is going to tell Mathias that he’s gotten them lost. He doubts that would earn him any brownie points. “You said you wanted to make a weekend out of it, right?” he chooses to ask instead.

Mathias’s eyes go wide as he turns back to Lukas. “I mean, I suppose I did… I just… Didn’t realise you were going to take me up on that. I didn’t bring the gear for it.”

Lukas raises an eyebrow. “Not even emergency gear? Are you sure you’re a seasoned hiker?” He feels like he’s on the brink of discovering something about Mathias, if he could just egg him on enough. Maybe not the smartest ways of getting to know someone, but their friendship hadn’t been built on conventionality.

“Of course I have emergency gear,” Mathias scoffs, the tips of his ears turning red. They’d been tinged pink from the sun, but now Lukas can tell that he’s blushing.

"Then I don't see the problem," Lukas replies with a shrug. "We can find somewhere to hunker down. Eat some, rest, start again in the morning." Mathias rolls his eyes, glancing through the trees to his right. It's the first time they could properly see the horizon, and with the view came the realization that they'd made it a decent way up the mountainside. "Come on," Lukas prompts, heading towards the view.

But Mathias doesn't follow and he pauses to look back at him curiously. "I dunno… We should probably just pitch camp right here."

Lukas shakes his head. "It'll be fine. You have to come see the sunset over here first. It's not like we have tents to put up or anything." Still, Mathias hesitates, so Lukas teases, "What, are you scared?"

#my shit #hetalia #interactive story #dennor #aph denmark #aph norway #hws denmark #hws norway #my fanfic #hetalia fanfic #it's been updated to be a week now lol #my bad #hope you enjoy!#please vote and reblog!#i appreciate everyone who takes an interest in this!#again i apologise for the massive delay

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herroyalhighnessqueenmomo · 2 years

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Faded Memories (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader) |Part 6|

A/N: Sorry in advance that this part is a little on the short side. Writer’s block was really coming in to play. I’m hoping the next part will get easier for me to write.

Eddie had been relaxing at home the following morning. He was getting ready to go visit you at the hospital when he got a call. "Hello?" He picked up the phone. "Mr. Munson, how would you like to take your wife home today?" The doctor asked. Eddie got excited. "I can take her home?!" He asked enthusiastically. That doctor laughed. "That's right. We're ready to discharge her. We recommend you bring her a change of clothes." "That's amazing! I'll be there in an hour or so." Eddie hung up and grabbed one of your small duffle bags from the closet. He opened your drawer of clothes and grabbed your favorite flannel. He grabbed a pair of jeans next and started to stuff the clothes in the bag. Eddie then realized you might prefer to have a bra on and that he would have to grab your undergarments again. He grabbed them quickly and shoved them inside the bag. "Jesus Eddie, since when did touching a bra scare you?" He muttered to himself in sheer disappointment.

Eddie decided to call the group to let them know that you were ready to come home if they wanted to come with him to pick you up. Of course everyone wanted to see you. Eddie made his rounds to pick everyone up and they all were on the way to Indianapolis. "So how has she been? You saw her yesterday when she was awake?" Nancy pumped him for answers. She sat right next to him. "Uh yeah, I was with her. It looks like she has no memory of us. Doc said there's no sure estimate to when she will remember." He replied. "Eddie why don't you tell her what you said to her since she can't remember?" Robin suggested from the backseat. Nancy turned to look at him in confusion. "What is she talking about?" She asked. Eddie sighed. "Gee fucking thanks Robin." She patted his shoulder. "Any time." "What did you do Munson?" Nancy asked again. "I may or may not have told Y/N I was her husband." He admitted.

"Are you insane?! You're joking right?! Why on the world would you tell her that? She's going to get confused and think that she's in a relationship with you and...wait a second." The gears in her head started turning. "Unless...you wanted her to stay attracted to you? You wanted her to feel like she was yours. Eddie, please tell me. Do you actually have feelings for her or do you just not want her to get over you?" She asked. Eddie thought for a moment. "Eddie!" Robin yelled at him. He jumped a bit. "Hey! Don't yell at me like that, I'm trying to drive!" He shouted. "Eddie..." Nancy said softly. She really just wanted answers.

"Look, this...feeling I have towards her is new. I just, I guess I am in love with her. I mean I guess I always have been? I don't know. Well in the past the love I had was always as friends. It was just easier that way. We were always so close and she was the best thing that I ever had in my life that I just focused super hard on trying not to fall in love with her because I was afraid I'd screw things up." He explained." He then let out a single laugh. "Jokes on me I guess, I screwed things up between us anyways." He stated. "To answer your question, yes I do have feelings for her. There always was. Deep down. I shoved them so far down and kept telling myself over and over that we were just friends until I convinced myself that's what it should be. If I'm being honest though? No of course I don't want her to be over me. If there is a chance in hell, that I can fix this and make things work between us now that I know how she felt about me, then I am going to take that chance gladly. So if that makes a bad guy, then I'm sorry." Eddie confessed.

Everyone remained silent. His response was unexpected. Nancy never thought he cared about you the way you did him but she was pleasantly surprised to be wrong. “Do you have a plan then?” She asked him. “My plan is to love her the way she deserves to be loved. The way I should’ve showed my loved from the beginning. I want her to fall in love with me again.” He replied. He sounded very determined. With the way he spoke, they actually believed him. Eddie was usually a casual nonchalant guy who joked around a lot but when it came down to this he was surprisingly serious.

They finally made it to the hospital and they all made it to the fifth floor in silence. As they got off the elevator Eddie went to the front desk counter. “Hey I’m Eddie Munson, I was called that my wife is getting discharged. I’m here to take her home.” He said. The woman smiled and looked through some documents. “Mr. Munson why don’t you go and meet your wife in her room?” She suggested and opened the door to the ICU. Eddie turned to look at the group. “I’ll be right back guys.” They all nodded as he went into the ICU to retrieve you. Once he entered your room he saw you sitting at the edge of your bed looking generally nervous. “Hey sweetheart.” He greeted you. His voice caused you to look up. You gave him a polite smile. “Hi.” You stood up off your bed. Eddie was quick to get to your side. “Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy baby.” He said. He took your hand to give you support and his other hand was on your back. “I think I’m okay. Thank you.” “Are you sure?” He asked. You nodded. “Yeah I’m fine.” He stepped back a little as he watched you take a few steps. “My legs are just a little stiff from laying in bed for literally a whole week.” You stated. He wasn’t sure if you were trying to be funny but Eddie chuckled a bit.

“I brought you a change of clothes.” He stated and held up the duffle bag. You grabbed the bag and gave him a small smile. “Thanks. Was kind of tired of having my ass hang out of this gown.” You replied. Eddie let out a laugh. “I’m glad you didn’t lose your sense of humor.” He stated. You let out a laugh also as you made your way slowly to the bathroom. “God, could you imagine if I forgot how to be funny?” You asked rhetorically and grabbed the door knob. Eddie’s smile faded as he realized that your back was really exposed in the hospital gown. He looked away quickly. He wasn’t sure where else to look at but he felt like it was probably rude to stare at your bare back. You opened the bathroom door and went inside shutting the door behind you so you could change. Eddie looked around the room a bit. He truly had no idea what to do at that moment. Something about knowing you were just a few feet away from him changing your clothes made his mind wander. He shook his head trying to snap out of it. “Come on Eddie get a hold of yourself.” He mumbled to himself and slapped his own face. Then the bathroom door opened. You stood there wearing the clothes he picked out for you. Eddie smiled to himself. He thought you looked beautiful. It was obviously a simple outfit but it helped highlight your natural beauty.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” He asked. You nodded. “I’ll admit, I’m a little nervous.” You stated. “Why are you nervous?” “Because I’m going home with a stranger.” You replied. “When you put it like that, it sounds like I’m taking you home to get lucky.” Eddie joked. You blushed a little now realizing he was right. “Hey, its okay. We can get to know each other all over again if it makes it easier for you.” He said softly. You smiled and gave a nod. “I’d like that.” He held out his hand for you to take it. He led you out of the hospital room and helped you get into the wheelchair one of the nurses left outside the room for you. Eddie began to push you. “Oh hey, before I forget, our friends are outside in the lobby waiting to see you. They wanted to come since I told them you were coming home.” He explained. “Who’s here?” You asked. “Nancy, Robin, and Steve.” He replied. “Do they...know about my memory?” “Yeah baby, I told them you might not remember them.” The two of you remained silent as you made it out of the ICU. Eddie pushed you a group of three people. You assumed that these were your friends. They all stood up and seemed very excited to see you.

You studied their faces hoping that you might remember them. “Hey Y/N. Its good to see you’re okay.” The guy with luscious hair said to you. Eddie stood beside you. “Y/N, this is Steve, Robin, and Nancy.” He said pointing to each person as he introduced them. You smiled and waved shyly. “Its nice to meet you all...er, again.” Nancy cracked a sad smile. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” You all made your way to the elevator so you could leave the hospital. You were personally glad to be leaving. You had grown tired of the same scenery in the past two days. You were led to a white van. Eddie helped you out of the wheelchair and helped you get into the passenger seat. In the meantime Steve took the wheelchair back inside the hospital. Eddie made sure you were buckled in and then gave your cheek a kiss. Everyone else got inside the van and got ready for the trip back to Hawkins.

You remained quiet not sure what to talk about with these friends you don’t remember having. You just watched the scenery outside the window while Eddie drove. “I gotta say this is the quietest I have ever seen you Y/N.” Steve said trying to make conversation. Nancy gave him a light jab in his rib and shook her head at him. “Oh s-sorry. I don’t really know what to say. I’m still trying to process everything.” You replied. “You don’t have to apologize Y/N, we understand how difficult this must be for you. Don’t we?” Nancy said as she glared at Steve. “Uh yeah, of course. We don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” He stammered not wanting to feel the wrath of Nancy’s elbow again. “Thank you.” You said silently. Eddie reached out to take your hand. You looked over at him. He offered you a small smile as he kissed the top of your hand. You smiled back at him. It wasn’t one of the ones you used to give him all the time. It was more of a polite one. Hell if it was the old you, you would’ve been truly beaming. Your smile probably would’ve blinded him. You would’ve blushed so hard from the sweet gesture that he never did before. He’d kiss the top of your head at times during your many bear hugs but he never offered a gesture as small and romantic like this. He never used to kiss your hand before like a gentleman. Now this was a thing he seemed to like doing casually. He had done it when he spoke to you during your coma and when you first woke up.

Eddie never knew why he started doing it but something about it seemed right. You didn’t mind though. You had thought he was just being cute. You had no idea that this was a new thing he did with you, but to be fair, you thought you were married to the long haired man. “Hey how about we all go out tomorrow to celebrate Y/N coming home?” Steve asked. “You know we could all go out to the Hideout. Like old times?” He suggested. You furrowed your eyebrows. “Go out?” You asked. Eddie looked back over to you and saw the worry you had written all over your face. His attention went back to the road. “I don’t think that would be a good idea Steve. Might be too soon for her.” Eddie replied. “Yeah...yeah, you’re right. She might get too overwhelmed.” Steve stated. "I'm right here, you know." You said. "I'm sorry, you can decide for yourself if you want." Eddie said and looked at you briefly. "Do you want to go the Hideout?" He asked. "What's the Hideout?" "Its just a seedly little bar on the outskirts of Hawkins." He replied. "You used to come and watch me and my band play. You know, Corroded Coffin?" You raised an eyebrow. "Corroded Coffin? Was that your idea for a band name?" You asked. He let out a laugh. "Yes it was, I don't know if I should be offended by the way you asked that question." You let out a laugh yourself. "No I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it, its just...different. Doesn't matter anyway. Not like there's a rule behind band names. I mean there's; Kiss, Fleetwood Mac, Black Sabbath, AC/DC 'which personally reminds me of the abbreviation for Air Conditioning', oh and I almost forgot Aerosmith." You listed out the few band names that you remembered. Everyone remained quiet.

No one expected you to be able to name actual band names. "You remember different bands?" Eddie asked. "Huh, I uh...guess I do." You replied. "Do you remember any songs?" Robin asked you. You thought a bit and began to hum a tune. You then began to sing softly. "Get yourself a cooler, lay yourself low. Coincidental murder with nothing to show." You hummed again not remembering much of the next few words. "You're soon enough dead. Its the same old story, same old song and dance my friend. Its the same old story, same old song and dance my friend." You kept humming the tune. "Th-That's all I remember from the song, I'm sorry." Eddie gave a pat on your thigh and supportive squeeze. "Hey sweetheart there's no need to apologize, you did great. At least you remember something." He stated. "It seems like you only remember the bands and songs popular in the 70s. Nothing from this decade." Nancy said. "If I had to take a guess, I think you only remember things that has happened a little over ten years ago. Give or take a few years." She concluded. "I guess that makes a little sense. Its too bad I can't remember anything sooner than that." You replied. "Its a start. Your memory doesn't seem to be completely gone." She said with some optimism.

*******************************************************************************************

The group made it to your Eddie’s apartment. They all gathered around by your side of the car. “Do you need any help getting of the car dollface?” Eddie asked. You shook your head as you used the open door as a form of support. “Guys I can do this by myself, I don’t need an audience.” You stated feeling frustrated that they were all eyeing you. Steve, Robin, and Nancy all quickly looked in different directions acting as if they weren’t staring at you just a second ago. Eddie on the other hand kept his eyes on you still. “You’re still staring at me.” You frowned at him. He gave you a small smile. “I’m proud of you.” “I don’t see why, you saw me walk by myself to the bathroom in the hospital, this isn’t any different.” You said harshly. Eddie just shrugged. “I know, but I’m still proud of you. In fact, you should be proud of yourself.” He replied. “Why? For getting out of a vehicle and not tripping over my feet like Bambi walking for the first time?” He let out a laugh. “Come on give yourself more credit.” He held out his hand so he could you towards the building. You sighed as you took it.

The group walked towards the building at your pace. You weren’t exactly happy that they were walking along with you in that same slow pace because you felt like it was pity? Maybe not exactly pity but as if you were burdening them from moving faster. You wanted to tell them to keep going, that they didn’t have to slow down on your own account. You opted not to. In your eyes this felt like this was your first impression on them. It felt like they were meeting you for the first time and you didn’t want to come off as a bitch during your first few interactions.

“Munson isn’t your apartment on the second floor?” Steve asked as you all made it next to the building. “Yeah, what about it?” He responded. Steve gave him a look. Then everyone turned to look at Eddie. “Come on you got this.” Steve said. Eddie’s face changed immediately when realization hit. “There it is.” “Y/N isn’t gonna be able to get up the stairs.” Eddie said. Nancy then furrowed her eyebrows. “Doesn’t the building have an elevator?” She asked. Eddie shook his head. “What? That has to be some kind of hazard.” She stated. “It’s fine guys, you act like I can’t go up and down stairs.” You chimed in. Eddie then turned to look at you. “Sweetheart, I’m not trying to sound like an asshole but you barely could go up and down these stairs without complaining about them, before the accident. I’m not so sure-” “I can handle the stairs.” You said cutting him off as you broke away from his hold. You slowly shuffled to the stairs and lifted up your leg to take the first step up. “You really don’t have to wait up on me.” You stated as you turned your head to look over your shoulder.

Steve and Robin took to the left side of the stairs where the wall was and went up to the top as you slowly kept making your way. “Y/N are you sure you’re okay? This might be a little to strenuous.” Nancy said from behind you. “Yes I’m doing just fine.” Nancy sighed and went up the stairs to meet up with the other two. Eddie went to the same step you were on and went to grab your left hand. You pulled it away from him as you looked at him. “Sickness and in health, right?” He simply stated. You sighed and reluctantly let him help you up the stairs.

By the time the two of you made it to the top of the stairs your legs felt like they were on fire. “You did it baby, good job.” Eddie said giving you a sweet smile. Your three friends got up from off the ground. They decided to take a seat as they waited for you to make it to the top. You cleared your throat. “Um...Eddie, I don’t think I can walk any further at the moment.” You stated. Without a second to waste he was at your side. “Are you okay?” He asked you. “I’m fine, I just...I guess Nancy was right.” You said quietly as you looked down at the ground. Nancy looked at you sympathetically. “Would you like me to give you a piggyback ride?” Eddie asked. You gave a small nod.

He squatted down a little so you could jump on his back. He then grunted as he grabbed your legs to support you. “Hey don’t grunt like that when you’re picking me up.” You said as he stood up straight and laughed. “Sorry baby. Uh, Harrington can you grab the key? It’s on top of the door frame.” Steve nodded and grabbed the key and unlocked the apartment door. Eddie walked inside and squatted in front of the couch so you could get off on it. “You know, I think I’ve heard of husband’s carrying their wives through a door in their arms but I can’t say I’ve heard of them doing piggyback rides.” You stated as you stretched out your legs a little. Eddie laughed. “What? Are you kidding? This was way more romantic.” Steve, Nancy, and Robin made their way inside the apartment. “Are you guys gonna be okay?” Robin asked. Eddie nodded. “Yeah, I figured we could just hang out together. Have her refamiliarize herself with the apartment...and me.” “Eddie if you need something, anything, please do not hesitate to let us know.” Nancy said. “We’ll be fine.”

With that the three of them left. A few minutes later they came back in. “We just realized you were our ride Munson.” Steve stated. “Oh shit.” You giggled. “You can go and drop them off Eddie. I don’t think I’m any shape to be going anywhere.” “You sure?” You nodded. He smiled and bent down to give a kiss on your forehead. “I love ya darlin’.” You only smiled in return. Soon enough the apartment was empty and you laid back on the couch.

The group made it to Eddie’s van and got inside. “Man seeing you two together like that seems so weird, but in a good way.” Steve said. Eddie squinted his eyes as he started the van and pulled out of the parking lot. “What do you mean?” “Well I don’t know. The two of you always kind of looked like a couple before, but now you’re acting like it.” He continued. “So?” “So, I don’t know. It just seems nice. Kind of cute actually.” Eddie scoffed a bit. “Cute?” Now Eddie realized why you hadn’t liked the word before. It felt like the two of you weren’t being taken seriously. “Yeah, cute. You guys make a cute couple.” Steve replied. “Well I personally find it refreshing that you’re finally treating her the way she should’ve been treated by you from the beginning.” Nancy added. Eddie sighed. “You’re not gonna let that go, are ya Nance?” “Not in the foreseeable future no.” She replied. Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Alright fine, guess I deserve that.” He stated. “You do.” “Thank you, Wheeler.”

Eddie managed to drop everyone off and made it back to the apartment within thirty minutes. By the time he got back to the apartment he noticed you fell asleep on the couch. He cracked a smile and went to grab a blanket to cover you with. He then gave your temple a kiss. “Sweet dreams baby.”

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#eddie #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things fanfiction

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roosterforme · 9 months

Text

The Curveball Part 5 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: As things start to heat up even more with Molly, Bob realizes he can't get enough of her. But the way she switches gears on him is starting to give him whiplash. In a moment of jealousy, Molly almost embarrasses herself, but doesn't she know Bob is already hers?

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, 18+

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story accompanies Batting Practice!)

Check my masterlist for more! The Curveball masterlist

Thank you to @mak-32 and @teacupsandtopgun for the beautiful banners!

Molly slept over at Bob's place, but when she woke up on Monday morning in his amazingly comfortable bed, he wasn't there. When she scooted over into his spot, it was still warm.

"Bobby?" she called in her sleepy voice, stretching her arms over her head, completely nude. There was no response, so she crawled out of his bed and thought about putting on some clothing before deciding against it. According to the time on Bob's alarm clock, she needed to be at work in two hours.

Molly grunted as she walked down the hallway toward something that smelled like breakfast. She moaned when she found Bob in the kitchen cooking, wearing his uniform pants and a white undershirt. He looked so good from behind. Tall and strong. His hair was tidy, and his clothing was neat. He looked exactly like the kind of man Molly thought she could trust.

That was a wild thought. She had no idea where that came from. "Bobby?" she asked again, and he spun to face her. His pretty eyes took her in, drank up her nude form. But she didn't feel cheap. She felt cherished.

"Morning, Mo."

Yep, that voice could destroy her ability to reason if she let it.

"Bobby," she crooned, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I didn't like waking up without you in bed. I like feeling your body next to me." She gave him a little pout for good measure, and he blushed for her.

It took him a few beats to answer, but she was in no rush now that she was with him. So she rested her chin on his chest and pouted with her best bedroom eyes as he sputtered, "I just thought maybe you'd like it if I made you breakfast."

"Actually, I love it, Bob. Please, make me all the breakfasts." She kissed his chin, then his cheek, then his lips. "What are you making anyway?"

He set his spatula down and took her face in both of his hands, and she thought she might melt. "Chocolate chip pancakes. I know you said you have a sweet tooth."

She moaned softly. "From scratch?"

"Yes."

"And you had chocolate chips?"

Molly watched a deeper blush creep onto his cheeks. "Well, I bought them so I'd have them here just in case you decided you might want to sleep over, so that way I could use them to make you something sweet." He was rambling a bit, and she decided she had never seen anything she liked more than Bob.

Her fingers found his belt loops and then his lean abs beneath his undershirt. "What time do you have to work, Coach Bob?"

"Nine," he whispered as she stroked her fingers along his firm body.

"Me too," she replied, pressing a kiss to his bicep. "Gives us just enough time to do everything we need to do."

He dipped his head down to meet her lips in a soft kiss. "What do we need to do, Mo?"

"Eat chocolate chip pancakes. Have sex. I can take a shower. And we can go to work."

Bob's lips were all over hers again, and she started pulling his undershirt up his torso. "Good idea," she murmured against his mouth before pulling away to toss his shirt aside. "Let's have sex first." He backed her up against the kitchen counter, and she was so needy for him, the way he was taking charge.

His warm skin was pressed against hers, and she felt his hands between their bodies as he worked on his belt and his zipper. The rough khaki material brushed along her thighs as she asked, "Do you want me right now, Bobby?"

"Yes," he whispered, his voice harsh and his eyes frantic. "How could I not?"

She yanked down his underwear and licked his chest before turning in his arms and pressing her ass against his erection. She felt his hands on her hips immediately as he bucked against her. And then she took one of his hands in hers and guided it up her body, letting him touch her everywhere, letting him play with her piercings, before wrapping his fingers around the front of her neck.

She looked back at him over her shoulder and said, "I'm all yours."

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

Bob had never, as far as he could remember, had sex in a kitchen before. A month ago, if you had asked him if that was something he would want to do, he may have laughed at you. But now, on a Monday morning before work, he was having fast, sweaty sex with Molly in his own kitchen.

And Bob could already tell he'd like this to become a normal routine for him. He had his hand wrapped around her neck, which she really seemed to like, based on the sounds she was making. He loved how he could feel the vibrations of her moans against his fingers. Her back was arched, his other hand was on her breasts, and she was really wet. She felt too good. Maybe he'd just never been with someone he loved before, but Molly was almost too much for all of his senses at one time.

"Bobby!" she moaned over and over again as he pressed his lips to the back of her neck. "Fuck me harder." He'd do everything to her exact specifications as long as it meant he could be with her. Be her only one. But when he slid his hand down her belly and let his middle finger stroke her clit gently, she came completely undone for him.

His senses were overwhelmed. His skin was on fire. His ears were ringing. And he just wanted more as he came inside her. Molly's cheek came to rest on his countertop, and she took both of his hands in hers so he was bent over against her back.

"Bobby. Feed me some pancakes."

He was still inside her when he reached for a pancake from the stack, and Molly took a bite, moaning softly. "It's yummy," she murmured and Bob took a bite himself before feeding the rest to her.

They ate two more together, and he kissed her lips over her shoulder before his kisses found her neck and the top of her back. He had to suppress the desire to tell her he loved her again, but a moment later, she was wiggling out of his arms and turning to face him again. Bob's cock missed the warmth of her body, and his skin felt colder.

"I'm going to use your shower," she said, prancing away, leaving him alone with his pants down, holding a half eaten pancake.

After that, his day at work hit him like the harsh reality that it was. His daydream about living with Molly in a house where clothing wasn't allowed was put on hold. Maverick rode them all day long, barely giving them a break. But Bob wasn't as bad off as Bradley. He looked miserable, and then Mav grounded him. And when they got to tee ball practice, Bradley was all over Everett and Molly as soon as they arrived.

Bob had tried to warn him that Molly wasn't his biggest fan at the moment, but Bradley went for it anyway. Bob could see him pleading as Molly kept her chin in the air. Bradley had hurt her sister's feelings, and clearly Molly wasn't going to let him off the hook. It looked like she was laying into him, and Bob called Everett over to start getting warmed up.

"She's still mad at me," Bradley said, messing with his hat. "So is Molly. I don't know what to do."

"I'll talk to Molly again," Bob promised. "But you need to focus on tee ball right now."

"Right."

But Bob ran most of it himself, and when practice ended, Molly was making her way over to him. She looked a lot calmer now as she slipped her arms around his waist.

"I was wondering if you'd be into another round of fucking and feeding me."

Bob was a little speechless. "You wanna come over again?"

"Of course. If you want me to."

Bob just kissed her. He wanted Molly at his place all the time. "Come by whenever you want, okay? I just need to stop by Phoenix's place and drop something off for her. Then I'll be home."

"Your pilot is a woman?" Molly asked, a little surprised.

"Yeah, you didn't know that?" he asked, watching most of the kids file up to the parking lot with their parents. "She's the best pilot I've ever worked with. Very talented and great at communicating in the air. Plus, she's become a good friend."

Molly just leaned up and kissed him before she whispered, "Well don't take too long at Phoenix's, okay? I'm going to drop Ev off, stop home, and then I'll head to your condo."

"Okay," he agreed, head filled with the sensations of Molly. He completely forgot that Piper was still running around with Everett and that his sister, Rebecca, was there to pick Piper up. When Bob's hand slipped a little lower on Molly's waist as they kissed, he heard his sister clear her throat.

He pulled away from Molly, but she continued to reach for him, and the look on Rebecca's face as Molly's lips met his neck had Bob frozen in place.

"Hey, Bob," Rebecca said with a huge, amused smile on her face. "I was just going to pick up Piper and run home."

"Hey, Becks," he managed, and Molly finally stopped kissing him and turned to look at his sister.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?" she asked in that obnoxious voice that both of his sisters always used when they were clearly picking on him.

"She's not my-" Bob started, but he was immediately cut off.

"Hi, I'm Molly." He watched his sister shake hands with her as she added, "You must be Piper's mom? Bob's sister?"

The two made polite conversation, and Bob watched Rebecca drink in Molly's appearance. She looked impressed, and Bob didn't know whether or not he should be insulted. But truthfully, Molly was very attractive.

"Uncle Bob," Piper said, pulling on his hand. "Your girlfriend is pretty."

"Thanks," he whispered back, certain that Molly had heard his niece before Rebecca took her to the car.

"Where were we?" Molly asked, running her hand down the front of Bob's baseball pants and stroking him through the fabric next to the deserted bleachers. Everett was in the parking lot with Bradley, and they were alone. "Oh, right. I'll meet you at your place soon. You should leave these pants on."

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

Bob practically tossed his toolbox at Nat when she opened her door. "What's the rush? Come in and have a drink."

"I can't," he panted, jerking his thumb to his truck which was idling at the curb. "Molly's coming over."

"Robert Floyd, you dog." Her smirk was just devilish as she shook her head. "Go get laid. I fully endorse it."

But then he considered her words and Molly's actions, and he quietly asked, "Am I having too much sex, Nat?"

She exploded with laughter that made him feel like an idiot as he turned and walked away. She called after him as he shook his head. "If she wants it all the time, that's a good thing! Means you're exciting!"

Bob drove home in dismay. He really didn't trust himself to hold Molly's attention much longer, especially if Nat said he was exciting. Because he wasn't. And the novelty of being with nerdy Bob was going to wear off soon, because Molly could probably be dating a celebrity or an athlete if she wanted to.

And were they even dating? What was actually going on? Molly told him she wasn't seeing anyone else, but was he supposed to ask her to be his girlfriend? Did he even want to? Because what if she said no? What if she dumped him next month?

He sighed and pulled into his condo parking lot, now more anxious than excited to see Molly. She pulled in and parked right next to him, and when he climbed out of his truck, she was almost instantly in his arms. Before she said anything, her lips were all over his, her fingers were in his hair, and he had her pressed up against her car. The soft buzzing of the streetlight was the only thing he could hear except for the sounds of her moans as she kissed him.

Oh, he was weak. He was a weak man. Molly took him by the hand and led him to the main entrance where he entered the passcode for the building without a word. Then they were in the elevator, and her hand was up his shirt. And then they were in his condo, and she had her top off and her bra unclasped before the door was even closed. He tripped along behind on the way to his bedroom, and she stepped out of her shoes and jeans along the way, leaving an enticing trail for him to follow.

"Mo," he grunted when she turned on his bedside lamp and made her way to where he was standing.

"The baseball pants," she moaned, unzipping them and dropping to her knees in front of him. "Oh, Lieutenant Floyd." She was looking up at him with both hands wrapped around his hard length, kissing his tip and licking him. "What are you doing to me?"

That question was so funny coming from her, and Bob would have taken some more time to dwell on it, but she was burying her face in his balls and licking him everywhere. "Oh, fuck," he groaned.

"Bobby, you said a bad word," she whispered, those perfect lips grazing him with each syllable. The way she was looking up into his eyes as she nibbled softly on him really solidified just how weak he was. "I want you to be bad with me."

He tore his tee shirt over his head and tossed it aside. He knew his glasses were crooked, and he probably looked crazed, but when he said, "Stand up," Molly was on her feet in less than a second. Her pupils were blown wide, and her lips were parted, and when Bob stroked both of her nipples at the same time, she shivered. "I love the way you shake, Honey. I love everything." She whimpered as he kissed her softly and commanded, "Get on the bed."

Molly scrambled onto her back and scooted until her butt was almost hanging over the edge. She planted her feet there with her legs spread wide, and Bob could see that she was dripping wet. He was thrusting into her without any hesitation, and she was already keening. With his hands planted next to her shoulders, he let his lips find those pretty silver barbells, and he teased her breasts with his tongue.

"Bobby! Harder!" He snapped his hips against her, and she gasped. But a few seconds later she was demanding more. "Harder." He did as he was told, honestly a little afraid he was going to hurt her, but she was moaning his name so prettily and slowly shaking her head. But the third time she asked for more, he leaned closer to her ear and panted.

"Honey, I don't want to hurt you. I was raised to respect women."

"Oh god!" she moaned. "That's so fucking hot. Now fuck me harder."

"But Molly-"

"Bobby, you can manhandle me like a slut when we're in bed together on occasion, okay? I want you to, so please respect what I want." His eyes went wide as her lips met his in the sweetest kiss. "I promise I'll tell you if you're hurting me. And maybe later we should discuss a safe word. Now... harder. Please."

So Bob fucked her as hard as he could, a little afraid that his neighbors could hear them, because he was getting into it now, too. She just felt so damn good, and her fingers were in his hair, yanking. And then they were on his biceps, squeezing. And then she came, back arched and tears in her eyes, shaking and shivering. But Bob knew what she liked now, and without thinking too much about it, he came all over her pussy, belly and pretty tits.

"Oh," she sighed, lips still quivering as she ran her fingers through his cum and licked them. Then she looped both of her feet around the backs of his thighs to keep him in place. She dipped her middle finger in his cum, fed it to him, and then licked his mouth clean. And a moment later, she was standing in front of him and straightening his glasses. "Do you want to watch a movie or something, Coach Cute Glasses?"

And just like that, like the flip of a switch, Bob found himself all cleaned up with Molly wearing his clothing, snuggled up on the couch. She looked cute in his clean undershirt and underwear, holding his hand and eating popcorn. For about every five kernels she ate, she fed one to him, her fingertips grazing his lips. And then every so often, her lips brushed his cheek or his neck before she returned to her popcorn, starting the cycle all over again.

Bob wasn't even sure what they were watching. It seemed like some sort of documentary about a serial killer, but he wasn't paying any attention to it. Molly finished the bowl of popcorn, set it on the floor and snuggled up with her head in his lap. And it wasn't sexual at all. He felt so calm and comfortable with his arm draped across her and his fingers tangled with hers. When she brought his fingers to her lips, she kissed his knuckles softly and sighed.

"Are we watching a murder documentary, Mo?" he asked, and she turned to look up at him.

"Well, yeah. They're my favorite. Do you hate it?"

"No," he said with a chuckle. "I don't hate it. I don't think I could hate anything you like."

"I like ice cream with chocolate sauce, marshmallow fluff, sprinkles, and melted caramel."

"That sounds gross, actually," he whispered, "but I would feed it to you."

She laughed and played with his hand, and soon Bob was stretched out on the couch with Molly on top of him. She was straddling his waist, and holding both of his hands above his head. But it still wasn't overly sexual. She was just placing kiss after soft kiss to his lips and telling him things that made him laugh.

When she released his hands, he let them settle on her lower back as she wrapped hers around the back of his neck. She stroked his stubbled jaw with her thumbs and whispered, "You're so handsome."

He knew he was blushing as he murmured, "I think you just like the glasses."

She pushed them up and removed them before kissing the bridge of his nose. "I do like your glasses, but you're just as handsome without them."

Bob opened his mouth, but the words he was thinking died on his lips when she kissed him again. "It's so late," she said, easing her body off of his and slowly standing. Bob watched her stretch and then bend to pick up the popcorn bowl. "You have work in the morning. I'll just leave when you get up."

Bob stood and followed her into the kitchen. He put the bowl in the dishwasher for her. "You could hang out here tomorrow. If you want. I could leave you my spare key."

You were gaping at him.

"That was a stupid idea," he muttered, closing the dishwasher. "I'm sure you have things you need to get done."

"Yeah..." she said. "I need to watch more of the serial killer documentaries and take a nap."

He smiled. "You could do that here. And then when I get home, we can have dinner together."

Ten minutes later, Bob was falling asleep with Molly wrapped around his body after she put his spare key on her keyring.

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

Molly was a mess. She woke up with Bob, and promptly decided that she didn't ever want to stop waking up with Bob. And then she snuggled him so long that he had to remind her that he'd be late for work if he didn't leave soon. While he took a shower, she decided to try to make him breakfast, but everything looked too intimidating. So she nervously told him that she had some black coffee and a bowl of cereal ready for him when he walked out in his uniform.

He just blinked at her, those pretty greenish-blue eyes examining her face. "Nobody ever got me breakfast before. Thank you." And she sat on his thigh at his kitchen table while he quickly ate his cereal and drank his coffee.

"I'm sorry if I made you late," she said apprehensively.

"You didn't," he insisted, kissing her lips. "I'll be home after five. We'll get dinner."

She nodded and stood so he could leave, but he hesitated and kissed her deeply one more time before he left. And then Molly practically floated back to his bed and fell asleep with her nose buried in his pillow. She dozed on and off until almost noon when her stomach started growling. This was her routine for her days off, always trying to catch up on the sleep she was missing out on. But now she was going to have to find something to eat. Was she just supposed to eat Bob's food?

She shuffled back into the kitchen and texted him as she went.

Coach Bob, can I eat something from your fridge for lunch?

Molly scoped out some of the options, and he wrote back a few minutes later.

Coach Cute Glasses: Have anything you want, Honey.

She smiled at her phone and then promptly made herself a salad and a sandwich. His fridge was filled with delicious, healthy options. It was mind blowing. Like she was sleeping with a real adult who went grocery shopping. She peeked at Bob's mail on the counter while she ate. His place was so tidy, almost nothing was out except for what looked like a monthly subscription to an aeronautics magazine and what appeared to be a mortgage statement based on the return address.

This man had a fridge full of real food and a mortgage. What the hell was he doing with Molly? God, he'd probably come to his senses while he was at work today and kick her out when he got home. She caught herself pouting. She could be good enough for Bob. She wasn't sleeping around. She wouldn't. She wasn't using him for his nice place. She wouldn't do that either. She liked him. A lot. But she didn't really have anything to offer him which was filling her up with a weird insecure feeling that she didn't like.

She was careful the rest of the afternoon not to make too much of a mess. She washed her dishes and put them away. She took a shower and folded up the towel. She would have put a little bit of makeup on so she didn't look so plain, but she hadn't brought anything with her. Instead she spent the rest of the day watching a documentary and looking at all of the things on Bob's bookshelf. She read every book title and examined every framed photo. There was one of him with Piper and Rebecca and another woman who must have been his other sister. There was one of Bob when he was about Everett's age with his parents. There was one of an elderly woman, and Molly wondered if that was his grandma who taught him how to drive. She wondered if he called her Nana or Grammy.

Everything in his condo was tidy but interesting, and she was still flipping through some of his novels when Bob unlocked the front door and rushed inside, almost like he couldn't wait to see her. Like he was trying to make sure she was still there. And he looked gorgeous in that khaki uniform. Molly had to press her lips together to stifle a moan as he approached her on the couch.

"Well, hello there, Lieutenant Floyd," she said, saluting him as she stood.

He groaned. "I missed you all day."

Oh, shit. There it was. He kept saying the sweetest things that made her want to fuck him. And she couldn't help it. She really couldn't. Because even after a full workday, his hair looked immaculate, and she needed to mess it up for him. His uniform was flawless, and she needed to see it all wrinkly.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. The faint smell of jet fuel clung to him, and Molly's core clenched. "Oh," she whined against his mouth. A shiver passed through her body, and when she met his eyes, he looked a little crazed. "Will you fuck me?" she asked softly, absolutely throbbing for him now. She needed him. It was like any time he was away from her for more than a few minutes and then returned, she needed to feel him hard and inside her.

"Yes," he growled, and she practically ran to his bedroom.

He followed her there and started to unbutton his shirt but she whined, "Keep the uniform on," until his hands stilled. He looked as excited as she felt, and then she whispered, "Lieutenant Floyd." He had her down on the bed, and he was on top of her. He was rough, yanking down the borrowed underwear that she had on and then pushing her thighs apart.

"Oh my god," she moaned, running her hands over all the khaki fabric and metallic pins. "I love uniform time."

Bob pushed his glasses up on his nose and smirked. "I think I outrank you, Mo."

"Fuck, Bobby. Don't say shit like that unless you intend to do something about it."

She watched his eyebrows quirk up, and a second later, she was flat on her belly with her bare asscheek cupped in Bob's hand. She looked back at him over his shoulder as he stroked her softly. She wanted him to do it. She needed him to do it. And the sound she made when he spanked her was animalistic. Bob spanked her a second time, a little harder, and Molly cried out, "Yes!"

"Do you like it?" he asked next to her ear. "Or do you want me to stop?"

"Don't stop!" she said, and soon she was chanting those words interspersed with, "Harder!" She came for him without any penetration and without his hands on her pussy. She came as she ground herself against the bedding in between spankings. And when Bob finally fucked her, he was filling her with his hot cum after just a few thrusts.

"Molly!" he cried out, his voice so loud over her heavy breathing. Her ass was sore, and Bob was laying on top of her now, but she felt amazing. Perfect. Bob spanked her. In his sexy uniform. Until she came. She loved him. She really thought she did. Because he was so sweet, literally perfect. But he was also willing to do those things for her, because he knew that's what she wanted.

"Bobby?" she whispered as he kissed the back of her neck. His fingers were linked with hers, and she could feel his uniform insignia pins digging into her back, but she didn't want him to move.

"Honey," he whispered, running his nose along her cheek. He was still inside her a few minutes later, whispering all kinds of things that Molly never knew she wanted to hear when his doorbell rang. He started to move, and right away she felt too cold. She felt her lips pouting as he stood with a soft moan. She slid off the bed, reveling in the delicious feel of his cum seeping out of her and onto her inner thighs.

Bob was tucking himself away and zipping up his pants. But his shirt was wrinkly and untucked. His hair was disheveled. His glasses were crooked and smudged. It was so obvious what they had just done.

"Were you expecting someone?" Molly asked, pulling his underwear up her legs.

He sighed deeply and headed for his bedroom door. "Kind of. I'm sure it's Nat. She is going to have a fit if she sees you here."

"Nat?" she asked, following him down the short hallway. Who the hell was Nat? And Molly had every right to be here. Bob invited her! Who was Nat?

Bob looked back at her, completely flustered. "I'll try to make this quick, but sometimes she likes to invite herself in. Sometimes she wants to stay for a drink. She's really used to being the only woman who can make me do what she wants."

He pulled his door open, and Molly caught a glimpse of a beautiful woman who handed Bob a toolbox and kissed his cheek. "Don't know what I'd do without you," she said in a voice that Molly could acknowledge was very sexy even through her jealousy. Then she patted Bob on the chest and slipped inside the condo before she froze in place. Her dark brown eyes went wide as soon as she saw Molly, and her lips slowly parted until she was gaping in surprise.

This woman was gorgeous, but Molly was no slouch. And she'd just had Bob's cock so deep inside her, she was probably walking a little crooked. And she was wearing Bob's underwear and undershirt in lieu of actual clothing. And she'd spent the night here!

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Molly asked her. Because if she was being two timed, she'd rather find out right now from this woman instead of having Bob try to lie to her later. She'd been there and done that before.

"I'm Nat," she said, reaching out to shake hands. "And you must be the famous Molly."

"You've heard of me," Molly said, looking past Nat to Bob who was blushing profusely now. But he didn't look too agitated otherwise.

Nat laughed, still holding her hand out. "Of course I've heard of you. Bob talks about nothing else these days. In the cockpit. Out of the cockpit. At lunch. Just Molly."

Molly's heart thudded in her chest and she took a small step closer. "Are you Phoenix?"

"Yeah. Phoenix. Natasha. Nat. All of the above." Molly lunged for her hand and shook it.

"It's nice to meet you," she said, a mix of embarrassment and wonder filling her up. "Bob has told me a lot about you. Well, besides your first name."

She rolled her eyes goodnaturedly in response. "I'm not going to stay. I can see that neither of you are dressed for entertaining. Well, entertaining each other, perhaps...." Nat's eyes drifted down her body to Bob's underwear, but Molly was too relieved to feel embarrassed.

"I'll see you again?" she asked Nat, and the other woman smiled.

"I have no doubt."

Then she turned back toward Bob and whispered something to him before she left, pulling the door closed behind her.

"What did she tell you?" Molly asked, wrapping her arms around Bob's waist.

"Nothing I didn't already know," he replied, looking at the floor before meeting her eyes. "She said you're hot. Way out of my league."

Molly just let her cheek rest on his chest before she said, "Can we order something in? And cuddle during another documentary?"

"I'd love that."

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

We love "uniform time". And Molly loves being spanked. But her actions are starting to make Bob's self confidence a little rocky. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who bugged me to make Molly and Bob a thing!

PART 6

@theamuz

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#bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #bob floyd #bob floyd fluff #robert floyd fic #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x oc #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fluff #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #roosterforme #the curveball #batting practice #robert floyd x oc #robert floyd imagine

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astra90x · 2 years

Text

Flufftober Day 4 - Supporting Silly Quirks/Hobbies

@flufftober

Fandom: Stardew Valley

Pairing: Sebastian x Reader

Word Count: 719

Reader Pronouns: She/Her

This is one chapter of an entire linear story! It can be read separately but is better when read as a whole. Enjoy!

❤♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Garbage… garbage… aha, banana peel. That’s something you could use.

It’s 6:30 in the morning and you’re standing outside of George and Evenlyn’s house, lightly rummaging through their trash to try and find things you can use on your farm. Fertilizers are damn expensive, and you’re in no rush to support Pierre again after he took credit for your work. But the people in this town throw out so many things that you could use for your crops, and it really would be a shame to let it all go to waste, wouldn’t it?

You tuck the banana peel into the mesh bag you brought with you, then start picking through the trash again, looking for anything you can compost. Some mornings, you’ll come home with more stuff than you can carry, some mornings you’ll be empty-handed, but you seem to be doing pretty well now.

You’re also thankful that it’s so early in the morning. People in Pelican Town usually don’t take too kindly to—

“Hey, uh, (Y/N)? What are you doing?”

Your head darts up, only to be greeted by one of the last people you’d want to see right now: Sebastian. You two had been pretty friendly after he had helped you out at Pierre’s, but this was surely going to ruin whatever nice image of you he had in his head.

“Oh, I, um…” You desperately wrack your mind for an excuse. Anything. But unfortunately, improv has never been one of your strengths, so instead, you just gape at Sebastian, opening and closing your mouth wordlessly.

Sebastian’s eyes travel down to the bag hooked around your elbow, where inside, there’s a collection of fruit peels and bread crusts. He looks back at your face, where you manage to stammer out a one-word answer of, “Fertilizer.”

His eyebrows raise ever so slightly as his eyes return to your bag, then over to the trashcan you had been sifting through. It looks like gears are turning in his head, but eventually, he says, “Actually, this is pretty great. Might as well use all of this stuff instead of throwing it out, right?”

“R-Right,” you reply, honestly shocked that he hasn’t turned up his nose at you and left yet. “My plants need it more than the trashcans do. I know it’s kind of disgusting, but since I’ve started doing it, I really have noticed a difference in the quality of my crops.”

Sebastian nods. “I can’t argue that it isn’t exactly… appealing. But I don’t see any issues with it either, especially since it helps your farm.”

You smile, grateful at least that Sebastian isn’t completely grossed out by you right now. Still, you don’t exactly feel in the mood to rifle through trash while he’s watching you, so you put the lid back over the trash can and accept that you’re finished for the day.

“What are you doing up this early, anyway?” you ask. “Most of the town is still asleep around now, that’s why I try to get out at this time.”

“Oh, I didn’t actually go to bed last night,” Sebastian admits. “I had a project I needed to finish and I guess I just… lost track of time. But I figured I’d go for a walk before anybody is up so I can get the most out of the morning.”

“Well, sorry to throw a wrench in your people-avoiding plan,” you say with a chuckle. “I am usually up this early, but I typically stay on the farm for the first few hours after I wake up, so I guess today is just your unlucky day, huh?”

“Nah, not at all. I’m actually glad that it was you I ran into,” he replies. “Your company is more tolerable than most other people’s.”

Coming from Sebastian, that was a glowing compliment.

You check your watch for the time (6:45, now) and realize that if you want to get all of your farm chores done before the sun is too hot, you should probably get going now. You inform Sebastian and he answers with a nod.

“Sure thing. I hope to see you around, (Y/N),” he says. With a short, one-motion wave, he turns and heads off toward the beach. You smile a little, adjust the mesh bag around your arm, and head in the opposite direction, back to the farm.

❤♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

#flufftober2022 #day 4 #stardew valley #sdv sebastian #stardew valley sebastian #x reader

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stoned-eren · 5 days

Note

10, 14, 17, and 18!

₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎, An ask game for your OTP or self ship! Answers can... (tumblr.com)

hello jaz! :D thank you so much for this, i havent written anything in a while so these were super fun ! ^_^

10- Write about your ship helping each other get ready for the day in the morning.

“how’s this? too tight?” summer asked, trying to loop the belts on eren’s odm gear.

“uh- yeah-” eren wheezed, his body straining from the pull of the belt.

“oop. sorry,” summer replied, letting out a breathy laugh. “don’t know my own strength sometimes.”

summer made the final adjustments to eren’s equipment. her touch was gentle and slow, carefully ensuring that all of eren’s gear was properly fastened on him. silently, she admired eren. the way his hair perfectly framed his face. his large stature. his gentle eyes.

once eren was situated with his gear, he took it upon himself to help summer with hers, much to her surprise.

summer was a nervous wreck the whole time. heat rushed to her cheeks whenever eren’s face met hers. he was completely unaware of how embarrassed summer was, as he was too focused on helping her with her gear.

when he did look at her, however, he was speechless. it felt so intimate, to be so close to each other. eren seemed to suddenly realize just how close he was to her, and seemed to clam up himself. with shaky hands, he would stare at summer as he fastened the belts to her body, consuming her with his eyes.

of course, summer couldn’t meet his gaze. it was too intense.

the remainder of the morning was spent with shy stares and gentle words exchanged with one another.

14- Write about your ship celebrating their anniversary.

the waves from the beach pushed back and forth, their rhythmic sounds providing comfort. this night, the stars seemed brighter than usual. they twinkled with such fascination and wonder, unspoken beauty and elegance radiating from their luminescence.

after a long day of sightseeing around the coasted shore, summer and eren rested by a rather large fire pit that eren had set up. their feet dug into the sand, feeling the particles of grains tickle their skin. the cool beach air contrasted the warmth from the almost-too-large fire.

in this moment, everything felt extraordinary. for summer, sitting underneath the stars with eren was all she could have asked for. all she could ever dream of was right next to her, gently looking at her with those beautiful eyes of his. feeling his chest rise and fall against her body provided her with so much comfort, so much unwavering love and devotion for the man.

eren took a bit of amusement out of summer’s star struck face. with a small laugh, he planted a kiss on her forehead, tenderly deepening the grip he had on her.

“happy anniversary, summer,” eren said, nuzzling his head against hers. “i love you.”

17- Write about your ship sharing hot drinks together.

“are you sure…?” summer questioned, taking the warm cup out of eren’s hands.

“trust me. it tastes better this way,” eren nodded, a small smile on his face.

hesitantly, summer took a sip of the drink.

truthfully, she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to feel. the drink had a hint of hibiscus to it, but had a juice-like consistency. it was an odd sensation; expecting a familiar coldness to the drink, yet being met with such an intense amount of warmth. nonetheless, it was soothing; it was healing.

summer took another sip while eren poured himself a cup of the deep red liquid.

“next time, i’ll heat us up some celery juice,” eren snickered at summer, watching her scrunch her face with a mixture of disgust and confusion.

“don’t tell me you actually drink that…” she retorted.

“what? it’s like soup, but just the vegetable taste,” eren proclaimed, seeming unphased by her reaction.

18- Write about how each member of your ship smells.

eren has the aroma of eucalyptus and a hint of bonfire. there’s a bit of an earthy, natural smell to eren, but nothing too intense. his breath is also slightly minty, almost a taste of cinnamon to it. effortlessly- he smells good.

summer, on the other hand, smells like sulfur and death. (mainly because she usually doesn’t take care of her hygiene.) however, when she’s able to care for herself, she smells similar to a coconut, as well as vanilla.

Soft OTP or Self Ship Prompts

#much appreciated <3 #writing.exe #sumren #ask #ruthvelyan #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #eren jeager #eren #eren yeager #eren jager #eren x oc

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juanitasuniverse1144 · 1 month

Text

Glow Week Day 4: Nature/Nurture

Conniverse kids 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

When Connie heard the sharp gasp, she immediately turned to see Steven staring at his phone in horror. "What's the matter?"

He heaved a heavy, sad sigh and shook his head. "I accidentally deleted it."

Connie crossed over to pull his head into her stomach as he began to sniffle. "Oh, I know how special it was to you, Steven."

Lucky knew it would be her dad texting her at 3:45 to tell her he loved her, even though they were headed to the roller rink after the rest of the De Mayo- Maheswaren kids got off from school. She was still at the school with them even with being almost 18 and graduated early after she'd fallen in love with teaching. "Don't crash the van, Azalea."

"Actually, it's a van," Celeste mumbled as she turned to the next page in her book. "A van." She drew out the syllables like Lucky must be stupid and Azalea cackled.

"Fine then," Lucky replied cooly. "Don't crash Grandpas van."

"Careful, every time you say that it makes me wanna do it just to see if I have healing powers too," Azalea said, glaring at her a dangerous amount of time.

Lucky rolled her eyes and sighed. Azalea was definitely turning up the alternative teen vibes. At 13, she became they and they shaved their hair down to a pixie cut and dyed half of it lilac and half of it jet black.

Needless to say, Azalea got two suspicious parents trying to not freak them out while they drowned them in questions and their dad pretended to not be terrified out of his mind. Now they were 16, just barely.

Seraphine and Celine were still in their football gear, and once again Lucky wondered where the hell they'd gotten sports from among the musically and theatrically talented family. Comet was by far the least talkative of them all, but that kid could sing his heart out.

A notification on another app drew her attention back to the phone to see her dads text:

'Lucky,

I have kept a voicemail from you for over two years. All you did was to call me to tell me you loved me. I usually listen to it about 20 times a week. This morning while listening to it I received a phone call and accidentally deleted your voicemail. I am heartbroken and want it back on my phone. Please call me and leave me another "I just wanted to say I love you" message.'

Despite being a recently retired daredevil, Lucky was cursed with her father's proneness to tears. They healed too, but nothing felt quite as good as having a dad who loved them so much. She cleared her throat and held up the phone. "You know what we should do? We should leave dad one of those voicemails where we just tell him we love him."

"You'll both cry," Azalea laughed. "I suppose this one time I can let the L word slip."

Comet scoffed. "You're killing me, Azalea."

They grew an identical sneer to his. "Doesn't seem to be working."

"If you guys start arguing I'm going to record it for blackmail," Celeste warned them.

"I vote Comet. He's got super strength and music powers," Celine laughed. "I've been waiting for this fight forever."

"Not while they're driving!" Lucky pleaded but Seraphines voice carried above hers.

"Azalea could grow him a flower!" She belly laughed as Azalea glowered at her in the mirror.

"You guys realize you guys don't have your powers yet, right? At least I'm not a–," They licked their fingers and raised their hand to the flower bouquet sitting in the passenger side window for their father to give to their mother. At a single stroke they grew full of life again and they smirked at the twins. "At least I'm not a late bloomer. Or a crybaby."

"Hey!" Lucky snapped. "Pay attention, all of you. And I will have you know I will not cry today, and haven't in a while."

Comet raised a silent eyebrow but said nothing.

"Right. Okay..." She fumbled with her phone as she called her dad. What if this one wasn't as good? Lucky was a Daddy's Girl for sure, she'd feel so terrible if he hated it.

It rang a total of seventeen nerve wracking times for Lucky before the automatic voicemail began. 'Hey, you've reached the voicemail box of Steven Universe. If you're a Crystal Gem or Homeworld gem, please press one, and you'll be redirected to my business line. Thanks for calling!'

Their dad was such a happy-go-lucky dork. He was the greatest.

"Hey, Dad! I, ow!" She grunted at Azalea smacked her. "We were just calling to tell you how much we love you!" Lucky giggled.

Comet leaned forward. "Hey, Dad. I love you.”

"I love you too dad! It's Azalea, your favorite!" They waved at the phone even though he'd never be able to know.

"Twins reporting in to say you're the best dad in the world!" Celine cried from the very back.

"–And we love you! Dude, we had one job," Seraphine scolded as she retouched her makeup.

"Hi, Daddy!" A seven year old Celeste was suddenly torn away from her book with his same goofy grin. "I love you!"

Comet crossed his arms and mumbled under his breath, "She sure knows how to turn it on after threatening blackmail."

"Alright, Dad. Bye. I love you." Lucky clicked off the phone and half smiled, half grimaced. It probably could've gone cleaner if they'd done some more planning.

Comet rolled his eyes at her as Azalea crooned, "Daddy's Girl! Lame! Basic! Come to the dark side, be a Mommy's Girl."

"Yeah Seraphine, we all know Dads your favorite," Celine teased.

Her sister frowned into the mirror. "I love mom! We're getting distracted from Lucky."

Lucky scoffed. "I love mom too, Sera! Dad and I just vibe on the same level!"

Comet chuckled. "You're picking up his outdated slang that was outdated when he started using it." He kicked up his feet on the center console and ignored them swatting at his boots. "How strange it must be to not be loved by both parents equally."

"We should send mom a voicemail too," Celine suggested. "I'm all sweaty and gross, but we can't just send Dad one and not Mom."

"Only if Comet will sing~!" Azalea swerved the car back and forth until their siblings were all screaming.

When his phone started ringing, he broke out into the biggest grin ever out of nowhere. Lucky was sending him his voicemail, and as much as he wanted to talk to her, he kept his self control at bay until it stopped ringing entirely. He left it alone another couple of minutes longer, feeding the anticipation so she could for sure get everything in.

At the sound of her voice he teared up. The background noises of her van rattled a bit and he loved it. His daughter told him she loved him and that's it. He almost pulled the phone away from his ear before he heard Comet, projecting for once, telling him he loved him too. Steven pressed a hand to his heart and leaned forward as if that could help him hear it better when Azalea all but shouted how much they loved him and claiming once again they were his favorite. Which was not true. He'd explained it many times that he didn't have favorites, but if he were to take someone out for ice cream, he'd take Azalea. When called out he pointed out that Lucky was lactose intolerant and Comet didn't like ice cream, Celeste’s preference lied with crème brûlée and the twins were on a weird keto diet. Speaking of which, his puzzle piece twins were finishing each others sentences to tell him they loved him too. Celine was the forgetful but loyal twin and quarterback for the schools girls football team (which he was now learning just to be the loudest and most with it parent in the stands), and Seraphine was the organized jock cheerleader twin that he had no idea how to be more impressed with. Celeste, the little genius she was, squealed when she said she loved him and it made his heart ache to hold her.

"Alright, Dad. Bye. I love you!"

"Hey–!"

Connie poked her head around the corner, smiling at how he was shaking his head in disbelief. "Mind if I join you?"

He nodded tearfully. "We make such good children."

"Steven, we are out. of. time. I spent so much of my 20's and 30's pregnant or with babies." Still, she grinned. "Don't tell me we're adopting already."

He took a huge sniff of her perfume and sighed dreamily. "Maybe. I love kids."

Connie scratched at the scruff on his chin. "I wish you could carry them instead of me. It's so not fair you're the favorite." She squeaked as he pulled her onto his lap.

"Don't be ridiculous! Our kids love you. You're easily the hottest mom, you're organized and poised and you're smart, ugh." He pushed into her neck so he could press longing kisses there. "So incredible."

She playfully shoved him away. "Don't lie to spare my feelings. I'm perfectly fine with being a badass who doesn't take shit. If I'm not the favorite, so be it."

Just then her phone rang and she pulled it out to see Lucky calling. She almost answered but Steven snatched it away. "Biscuit, you give that back," Connie told him sternly.

Despite the momentary dip of his arm he let it go to voicemail and handed it back. "Just a bet. I bet they send you one too. Especially if Comet and Celine were in there."

Sure enough her phone lit up with a voicemail notification and she smirked victoriously up at him. "I'll bet mines better."

Honestly, it was a perfect tie.

As soon as she hit play, the kids started singing in a beautiful harmony, "Momma, I killed a man!" and then giggling as they shouted they loved her to Homeworld and back and then a hundred times over. Then it dissolved into arguing with Comet that he was her favorite so he should go first, him being so much like Azalea it was a little ridiculous the universe hadn't just made them twins. Comet must have grabbed the phone just at the end as he shouted, "Bye Mom! We love you!" and it cut out.

When they all were gathered up from their various activities again, they pulled up to see the living room, porch and their parents' bedroom light on.

There they were up in their bedroom with the window wide open, slow dancing and completely absorbed with each other. Their dad must have said something super lame because their mom threw her head back in laughter and he chuckled at himself before noticing the van.

He turned Connie and waved at them cheerfully.

Comet snorted. "I can hear mom now. 'Steven, you don't need to wave at them. They'll be inside in a minute.'"

Sera did her best impression of their father. "'Oh, Connie! I'm so in love with you! I love our kids! I love our life!" They fake swooned as they fell out of the van and into Luckys arms.

"Very funny. Hit the showers, you guys smell like little boys."

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alwritey-aphrodite · 2 years

Text

Birthday Surprise

You Are In Love universe one-shot

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: modern!Poe Dameron x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.6k

Author’s Note: another little birthday gift for y’all! This doesn’t necessarily take place after Chapter 7, just at some point in this little universe I’ve created :)

You had never really loved your birthday: sure, when you were younger, you enjoyed it. It was a day all about you, where you got tons of presents and all the attention. But, as you got older, the attention made you uncomfortable and the gifts were nothing to look forward to, because you rarely got anything.

You remember being in high school, and going out of your way to buy thoughtful gifts for your friends, and delivering them to their house if you didn’t see them.

None of your friends ever went out of their way to do anything like that for you.

Your birthday often leaves you feeling alone and forgotten.

It wasn’t like you were greedy, it wasn't about getting gifts or having people lavish you with attention. You would have loved to receive a card or even just a text that said ‘happy birthday’.

Birthdays were hard enough without feeling entirely alone.

So you never really mentioned when your birthday was to Rose, or the rest of the group. You didn’t want them to feel pressured into doing something for you when they didn’t want to, you never wanted anyone to feel obligated to celebrate your birthday in any form.

You didn’t even realize that you never told her when your birthday was until a few days ago. She’d been complaining about having to train a new hire during a morning shift, and then said, “But at least you’ll be here.”

“Hate for you to find out this way, but I actually took off.”

You burst into laughter at the look of shock on her face: not because she’s upset at you, but because you very rarely take off from work, unless you’re sick or there’s an emergency.

“And why in the hell did you do that?”

“I didn’t feel like getting up early on my birthday.”

At that, she freezes. You instantly regret mentioning it, because now she’s going to feel obligated to do something for you, because she really is a sweet person, but you’re going to feel awful about it.

You can see the gears turning in her head, but all she says is, “Enjoy sleeping in.”

You push that interaction to the back of your mind: it’s the only way you won’t dwell on it for the rest of your life. And, by the time your birthday rolls around, you barely even remember that you told Rose.

You sleep in, so much so that it’s closer to the afternoon when you finally roll out of bed. You make yourself a breakfast of your favorite items, and then luxuriate in the shower, standing under the stream of water for as long as you want.

After you pull on some comfy clothes, you settle in front of the TV with old sitcoms playing and some watercolors in front of you. You spend the afternoon just like that, painting and snacking while your favorite shows play quietly in the background.

And then, there’s a knock at your door.

You really hadn’t been expecting anything, and you highly doubt that any of your family members would surprise you.

So you’re incredibly shocked when you open the door to reveal Rose, Rey, Finn, and Poe, all decked out in party hats, their arms laden with gifts and balloons and cake.

“Surprise!” Rey shouts, and you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing if you tried.

“We all hated the idea of you spending your birthday alone,” Rose is quick to explain when she notices your tears, “I’m sorry, I really should have asked first.”

“No, no” you reply, wiping your eyes, “this is… the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” You step back to allow your friends to enter your apartment, still wiping the tears away from your eyes. You can’t even remember the last time someone put in the effort to throw you a birthday party, let alone a surprise party.

“Now I feel underdressed,” you say with a small laugh, gesturing down at your lounge clothes, “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time, we’ll be setting up here,” Rose responds, setting down one of the many bags onto your kitchen table as you disappear into your bedroom.

You know that you don’t actually have to change, they’ve all seen you in your pajamas before, but they went through all the trouble to put all of this together for you, the least you could do was put on some presentable clothes.

When you emerge from your room, the kitchen and living room have been transformed: there are balloons and streamers all over, a cake on the kitchen counter, and a pile of gifts on your ottoman. You have to fight the urge to cry again.

Where did you get such amazing friends?

“We know it’s not a lot, but we all thought you deserved to have a little celebration,” Rose says, and you pull her into a tight hug. You knew this was all her idea, and while everyone else was clearly keen to help out, you could tell she was the mastermind behind it all.

“It’s perfect, really,” you release Rose from your grip as you talk, only to be pulled into Rey’s arms, “thank you guys, honestly.”

“Cake or presents first?” Finn asks, pulling you into a side-shoulder hug: much less smothering but no less affectionate.

“Cake first?” You look around to see if anyone disagrees, because it really didn’t matter to you all that much. What mattered is that your friends were happy after they’d put together this wonderful little party.

“It’s your big day, we do whatever you want.” Poe responds, and you’d be worried that he’s bitter if you didn’t see that gentle little smile on his face, a smile that tells you that everything’s alright.

You all make your way back to the kitchen, and you take your first good look at the cake. It’s frosted in your favorite color, and you can tell that Rose made it from the handwritten, frosted ‘happy birthday!’ across the center of the cake.

You can’t remember the last time someone actually made you a birthday cake.

Then, the numbered candles are stuck into the cake, and your least favorite part of the whole birthday celebration begins: singing happy birthday. You never really know what to do with yourself, and it always leaves you feeling awkward and uncomfortable.

But, today, you find that you don’t hate it as much as you normally do. You’re sure it has everything to do with the people singing it.

After you’ve blown out your candles, you move to cut and serve the cake, but Rose immediately shoos you away.

“Just sit and relax, let us take care of you for once.”

And, as much as you it seems wrong to admit, it feels nice to be taken care of, to be surrounded by people who love you and who want to take care of you. It’s a foreign feeling, and you don’t completely hate it.

After the cake had been passed out and eaten, you all move back to the living room to open the gifts. It still shocked you that people would go out of their way to pick out something for you, to think about the things you enjoy and then buy something for you.

All of the gifts are so thoughtful you have to keep reminding yourself not to cry. Finn got you some new brushes, after you’d complained about how yours were falling apart after so much use. Rey and Rose bought you a small houseplant, complete with an adorable little pot, after you’d mentioned wishing you had more greenery in your apartment.

It completely baffled you that you could mention something once, in passing, and your friends would remember it.

And Poe’s gift was probably the best of all. It’s a picture of the five of you, all crowded around the bar of The Resistance, from the night your mural was first displayed. It’s something so simple, but so insanely meaningful, you wonder if you even had a chance at not falling for him.

You can’t take your eyes off of it, can’t look away from your smiling faces staring back at you from the TV stand where you’d displayed the picture. It fills your heart with warmth and makes your brain all fuzzy, in a way that you can’t name but isn’t wholly unpleasant.

It’s well past midnight when your friends leave, in a flurry of hugs and promises to get together again soon and to text when they get home safely. The night was spent playing card games and eating snacks, telling each other embarrassing stories and laughing so hard you cry at each other’s expense.

It’s the best birthday you’ve had in years.

Poe sticks around, citing the cramped elevator and needing to help you clean up.

Although, not much cleaning gets accomplished. Instead, the majority of your time is spent talking, doubling over in laughter as you attempt to clean up the gift bags and wrapping paper that litters your living room floor.

Much to your dismay, Poe leaves around 1 in the morning, with a hug that lasts a little longer than it should and a “happy birthday” whispered into your ear, making a shiver run down your spine.

You try not to think much of it as he shuts the door behind him.

Instead, you decide the rest of the cleaning can wait, and you get ready for bed in record time before curling under the covers and falling asleep, all to be greeted by the best dreams you’ve had in a long time.

Tags: @aellynera @disabledameron @stevenngrant @dailyreverie @creatively-analytical @luckynachos @poopirate @fallinallinmendes @sabxism @tiquinntheghost @ghostsongwriter-22

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron fanfic #modern!poe dameron #modern!poe dameron x reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars au #you are in love series #it’s my birthday and I’m going to make it everyone’s problem

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fixationstation · 2 years

Text

Let Go of Your Umbrella

Part 2: Dog Tags

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader

Word count: 1858

Summary: You’ve worked as a secretary for Stark Industries- and later the Avengers- for years. After everyone came back after five years, the world’s a mess and half of your family is gone. You’re not the only one dealing with the aftermath, and despite your better judgement, you’re dragged along with someone else who’s trying to move on. You don’t know it yet, but you’re the sunshine to his cloudy day.

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

When you went into your office for the morning, the last thing you had been expecting was the collection of boxes stacked on and around your desk. You could see a few numbers and letters on the sides of the boxes, but they didn’t quite make sense to you. With a little huff, you wandered over to find a note on top of the pile on your desk.

Leftover personal junk from SHIELD offices- please go through. Thanks.

-Pepper

Well, you supposed your schedule had just changed for the day, not that you minded much. It would be nice to get a break from the paperwork. You cleared the top of your desk before grabbing the first pox and pulling it open, quickly getting to work.

When Pepper had written that it was ‘junk’, she hadn’t been making things up. It seemed like it was just a collection of old belongings, and whatever had been sitting in the desk drawers of SHIELD before it was even SHIELD. You found a name every here and there, which thankfully made it easier to start organizing things. You’d have to ship what you could back to the owners… though in most cases, it was seeming like it would need to go to their families instead.

Pens and folders, old uniforms and paperweights, and notes and letters, a bowler hat that you’d recognize anywhere, a collection of old spy gear- only some of which seemed to actually still work, and an assorted collection of name tags, dog tags, and badges.

Near the end, a few people had even started growing their own piles, their names getting more and more familiar the more you came across. Under another folder full of reports for Daniel Sousa, you paused at a dress uniform carefully folded with a set of dog tags set on top. You knew the name on the tags.

… you didn’t know what to do with this.

It hit you like a freight train that Steve didn’t have any next of kin. Sure, the only thing that would have been going to him was an old pair of dog tags, but it didn’t feel right to just… give them to a museum or something. You set them aside for the time being and pulled out the uniform. The bottom of the box had another set of tags that gave you a pause.

James B Barnes.

Bucky wasn’t next of kin, but as far as you were concerned, Sam and Bucky were about the closest you were going to get to it. You sent out a text.

‘Where are you. It’s urgent.’

You weren’t even sure he would reply at all. It wasn’t exactly like Bucky was known for answering his messages… but then again, you’d never personally used the number saved in your phone for him. You knew he had yours in turn, but it had gone unused.

You hadn’t realized you’d been checking your phone every few moments until it lit up with a notification.

‘My apartment. You okay?’

Oh. Well, you hadn’t meant for it to sound like you were in trouble, but if it got him to answer, who were you to argue with results?

‘I’m fine. Can I meet you there?’

It was another few minutes before you got an answer. He sent you his address. It was about as close to a solid yes as you were going to get.

You gathered together a small box full of everything that was going to Bucky before you set out, locking your office behind you. The other belongings would need to be shipped out after you got in contact with families… but that could be done later.

You checked the address twice before making your way there- it was a surprisingly short trip. You have the neighboring doors no mind, knocking pointedly on the number Bucky had sent you.

There was a moment of silence before it was broken by the click of a lock and the soft clattering of a chain. He pulled open the door, staring at you for a moment longer than necessary. His gaze lingered on the box in your hands.

“Can I come in?”

After a moment, he nodded and stepped aside. The door was shut behind you, and both the doorknob and chain locks were put back into place.

His apartment was… well, very empty. It had nothing more than the bare essentials, and the room was dim even with the light of the muted TV.

“…Nice place you’ve got. It really screams ‘I’m ready to run at a moment’s notice’.”

Bucky scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest, “what are you doing here?”

You held the box up and shook it lightly. “This is for you.”

He gave you an odd look and cautiously took it from your hands. “…okay. What is it?” He held it away from him as if it were either going to blow up or bite him.

“It’s… well, it’s a few things. Open it. I promise it’s nothing dangerous.”

He narrowed his gaze at you before turning his attention to the box. Bucky opened it slowly only to pause when he saw what was inside. His expression scrunched up in confusion as he looked between you and the box.

“How did you get this?” He pulled his old dress uniform out of the box, and only then did he see the dog tags at the bottom.

He set the jacket aside to pull out the first set. He read his name, staring at it with later focus before glancing down at the other tags. “Are these…”

You nodded, “Steve’s. Yeah. There were a bunch of boxes of old SSR stuff. You and Steve didn’t have many things in there, but I figured they should all go to you.”

“…me? I understand my stuff, but why his?” He picked up Steve’s tags as if they’d shatter in his hands.

“Well, he didn’t exactly have a list of emergency contacts,” you muttered. “You’re his best friend. There isn’t anyone else I’d give them to.”

He pulled his gaze from the tags to stare at you with a newfound focus. When he didn’t say anything, you found yourself lightly shifting and looking away from him.

“…thank you. This is… well. Thank you.”

You smiled over at him and leaned over to lightly pat his shoulder. “Of course. You know I’m always around if you ever need anything, right? I know I’m not an Avenger or anything like that, but sometimes normal boring people can be good company, too,” you teased lightly.

Bucky chuckled dryly, “what I wouldn’t give for normal and boring. Really, thank you. It means a lot.”

“Well, if you’re really insistent on thanking me, you can text me every once in a while. Or call, or… I don’t know, write a letter? Send a carrier pigeon? Telegraph me?” You liked knowing your friends were okay, which was a lot easier when they kept in contact.

“I may be old, but I know how texting works. Lol means laughing out loud and all that,” he joked back at you.

You let out a low whistle, “I’m impressed. The military Sargent who speaks at least two languages and knows Morse code can, in fact, solve the acronyms of today’s youths.”

“Today’s youths? Now which one of us sounds old? You gonna start chasing people off your lawn next?”

You chuckled softly, “now you listen here, whippersnapper-“

“Did you seriously just call me a whippersnapper? I’m pretty sure I’ve got a few years on you.”

“Yes,” you nodded very seriously. “You might be, like…108, but with a build like that?” You gestured to all of him with a wink. “Sorry, you can’t have the old man title yet.”

He froze, more than a little caught off guard by the comment. For a split second, you could have sworn that he smirked at you before he looked away. “Ah. Okay. ‘Boring old person’ can be reserved for you, then.”

You nodded sagely, “super boring.”

“…boring is nice. I don't mind it,” he muttered after a moment.

“In that case, I’m free to bore you whenever you’d like,” you offered. “I happen to enjoy the company of my fellow old folks.”

Bucky seemed to consider that for a moment before he began messing with the dog tags again. He unhitched the little silver chain, quickly replacing a plate on both sets. He put the newly combined tags around his before offering you the other.

You blinked at them in confusion, reading his and Steve’s names once more. What was he doing? He rolled his eyes before gently grabbing your hand when you didn’t immediately take it. He carefully pressed the tags into your palm, lingering there for a moment and staring at you. When he seemed satisfied with whatever he saw, he pulled his hand away.

You slowly pulled the tags towards you, opening your hand and staring at them, “but these are…”

“Very important to me,” he nodded. “So I want you to keep them safe for me just in case something happens to these ones,” he hooked his thumb on the chain of his set to show you. “I’ll know that you have one of each with you.”

You absolutely, for sure were not going to cry. Your eyes were burning because of… allergies. You were probably just allergic to Bucky being nice to you. That must have been it. Hell, he didn’t even really know you, and he was trusting you with something so important.

You nodded over at him. The chain was long enough that you could pull it over your head, the plates of metal lightly clicking together as they fell to rest above your chest. He seemed satisfied with that, looking you over before he gave you a nod in turn.

You couldn’t help but stare back at him, a soft little smile on your face. You weren’t sure you could ever tell him how much it meant to you that he’d do that, so you had to settle on trying to convey it with a look.

…How had you never noticed what a pretty shade of stormy blue his eyes were?

Your entire face warmed at the thought before you shoved it to the back of your mind. Bucky was undeniably an attractive man, but that was a very dangerous train of thought. You would take that as your cue to duck out.

“…well. I have a bit more stuff to get out to people. Always work to do, you know? But I was serious about keeping in touch. Don’t make me hunt you down, Mr. Barnes.”

He hummed to himself, “I’m sure you’d try, doll.”

“I’d succeed, and we both know it, dear.” You gave him a little mock salute as he gestured you back out.

You glanced back at him, the two of you exchanging little smiles one more time before he shut his door behind you. The sound of his locks clicking back into place sent you on your way, your hand gently wrapping around the dog tags he’d given you.

#Bucky barnes x reader #winter solider x reader #tfatws #marvel #reader insert

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