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madrabit · 2 months

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Ooh you know I'm gonna take you up on this offer of more fantastic BoJan content! Could you please do one with a mix of 15 and 17 ? (A passionate kiss to distract from something) thank you <3

Yes! We need more BoJan (and I know you know that very well :3), there can never be enough of the two of them! And yes, ofc I can do that! I hope you enjoy it!

And for everyone else, feel free to also send me a prompt if you'd like to!

Send me a number and a ship and I'll write you a kiss! 🩷✨️

15. ... passionately + 17. ... to distract

The silence in the room was suffocating. It coated the space in a weird blanket, making every noise stand out and the ticking of the clock on the wall seemed awfully loud.

Jan was tense, his shoulders pulled up, hands clutching at each other, fiddling with a pick he had found in the pocket of his pants, while his jaw was clenched tightly. His breathing was strained, a frown permanently etched onto his face since they had entered the vet office and he was aware of the vibes he was giving off as he shifted on the uncomfortable plastic chair.

A few seats over a small dog barked, drawing Jan's attention with the high pitched sound and the woman holding the dog gave him an apologetic smile, while she shushed the animal. Jan didn't react, instead he let his eyes fly to the informational posters about how to calculate your pets age on the wall in front of him, over the little calendar next to it displaying pictures of kittens, puppies and other small animals and finally landing on a brochure about how to properly care for exotic pets.

"Are you alright, Janči?"

Bojan's voice was quiet, calm and incredibly warm that Jan couldn't help but look away from the picture of a gecko perched on a branch and meet the shorter man's soft brown eyes.

"Yes", he answered shortly, letting out air through his teeth. He flicked the pick, sliding it through his fingers and his leg started to bounce nervously as he threw a look at the clock, still loudly ticking away.

It had been barely five minutes since the nurse had taken Igor from him. He had watched, almost helplessly, as the young woman had carefully taken the pet carrier from his hands. Igor had been quiet, rolled up on Bojan's sweater that they had put in to keep him comfortable. Usually he would have put a fluffy blanket he had specifically bought in the box, but when he had found Igor laying on Bojan's discarded sweater, the cat hadn't wanted to move an inch and buried his claws in the fabric, still holding it in his little paws as Jan had picked him up. Bojan had let out a giggle and had just taken the sweater to lay it out in the transport box for Igor.

"It's okay, he's a brave little kitty", Bojan said softly, reaching for his hand and interlacing their fingers, immediately knowing what was making the taller man this upset. Jan looked down, seeing Bojan's smaller hand in his and while it might have helped usually, the feeling of worry just didn't fade and he was still tensed up.

"I hate that I'm not allowed to be inside with him", he said lowly, squeezing Bojan's hand maybe a bit too hard as the shorter man rubbed his thumb over his knuckles, not that his boyfriend complained.

Jan had felt his heart drop into his pants as he had seen Igor limp last night after coming back from one of his strolls outside, favouring his right hind leg as he hoppled through the living room. The cat didn't go roam the neighbourhood on his own often, preferring to stay inside and cuddle up with him and Bojan on the couch. Most of the time, Jan would go take a walk with him, giving him the space to explore, but still being there for Igor to return to if he felt unsafe.

The dog barked again, whining a bit and Bojan cooed softly at the pomeranian. Jan was sure that his boyfriend already would've asked if he could pet the dog if the older lady hadn't clutched the animal against her chest protectively.

"It'll be over soon and we'll get him back, he'll be fine", Bojan whispered, playing with the dark haired man's fingers.

"Usually I was allowed to come in with him...", Jan grumbled, his leg still bouncing as he looked through the otherwise empty waiting room again. Next to him, Bojan shifted, putting his head on Jan's shoulder. Soft, brown hair tickled his neck as the shorter nuzzled into his hoodie.

The vet was new, taking over the office of the previous doctor, who had retired. Jan had liked the old man a lot, trusted him to take care of Igor and wasn't bothered if he had to stay behind while his little furbaby got treated. But this guy was new. And Jan didn't trust him yet, didn't know if he was good at his job or not.

"They're taking an x-ray, Janči, I'd be surprised if they allowed you in there", Bojan mumbled, pulling Jan's hand into his lap to take it in both of his, giving a reassuring squeeze. Jan let out a huff, the frown deepening even more. He was tempted to pull away, wrap his arms around himself to hide the way he was still fiddling with the pick in his hands. But before he could think about it further, Bojan stood up abruptly, getting Jan onto his feet as well.

The smaller man didn't let go of him as he made his way out of the waiting room, not even as Jan asked him what he was doing. He didn't even answer, just walked over to the little bathroom, opened the door and pushed Jan inside, swiftly following his taller boyfriend into the room.

The click of the lock turning was all Jan could hear before lips attacked his, arms wrapping around his shoulders, a hand on the back of his head pulling him down into a kiss.

Jan let out a surprised little noise, his own hands almost instinctively coming to rest on Bojan's waist, even as he wanted to move away. The singer didn't let him, just pulled him closer as he deepened the kiss, letting his tongue dart out to trace Jan's bottom lip.

It took a few seconds for his brain to catch up, before he reciprocated the kiss, biting Bojan's tongue and letting it slide between his lips. He wrapped an arm around the younger's waist, pulling him closer and leaning even more into it, almost making Bojan bend over backwards as their tongues met.

Bojan moaned softly into the kiss, his hold loosened slightly as he melted against Jan, his hand dropping to the nape of Jan's neck, playing with the slightly shorter hair there. The touch made a shiver run down his back and he let one hand slide under the sweater his boyfriend was wearing, softly caressing the skin on the small of Bojan’s back.

He felt himself relax as the kiss turned messier, mind only focused on walking Bojan a few steps back, pressing the shorter man against the wall next to the sink. His hands slid down further, coming to rest on that plush ass he loved, when a muffled bark ripped him out of the thought.

"We shouldn't do this, what if they are done now", he said lowly as he pulled back, or rather, tried to pull back. Bojan cupped his cheek, turning his head back again to press feather light kisses to Jan's jaw, rubbing his nose over the dark beard, kissing his way up.

"Two minutes", the younger whispered against his lips, "just a little bit longer, yes?"

Bojan stared up at him, dark eyes hooded and soft, so soft that Jan wanted to melt from the warmth they radiated. Instead, he just leaned in again, bringing their lips together in another kiss that had them both gasping for air.

A few minutes later, they stumbled out of the bathroom, making their way back to the waiting room. The woman, still holding her dog, gave them a pointed look, staring at the little red blotch forming on Bojan's neck that the singer had tried to cover up with the collar of his sweater. Jan gave her another frown as they sat down, reaching for Bojan's hand. The scrunched up, sunshine smile he got in return made his nerves relax again.

They barely had to wait for another ten minutes, spending the time talking quietly, when the same nurse from earlier called for them.

"His leg is just sprained", the vet said as soon as they entered the room and Jan felt his body relax in relief, eyes immediately on Igor. The cat was laying on his side on the table, cleaning his front paws while his tail was swishing behind him, showing his discontent at the whole situation. The second he noticed Jan, he stopped, looking up at his human and gave a loud, clearly unhappy meow.

The vet laughed slightly while he looked over Igor's file, noting something down. "He's gonna be alright in a few weeks, but I wouldn't let him out in that time, we wouldn't want him to break a paw."

Jan nodded, stepping towards the table and leaning down to give his cat a little kiss on the head, right between his fluffy ears.

"He's very well mannered, so it went faster than we thought it would. You can go upfront to pay and then you're all done."

"Thanks", Jan said to the man, who just nodded and then walked to one of the doors to disappear into another room, most likely to get back to the lady with the dog.

"Do you want to take him?", Bojan asked as he picked up the transport box, but Jan just shook his head.

"I can't, i have to pay, you should cuddle him a bit, you know how he gets after a vet visit", he answered, taking the box from his boyfriend. Bojan just gave him a sweet smile as he scooped up the little furball in his arms, giggling softly as Igor immediately bumped his face against his chin and started purring.

"Sometimes I think he likes you more than me", Jan said with a grin, finally able to relax completely now that he knew everything was alright.

"No, he doesn't, I'm just the one who gives him treats all the time", Bojan laughed, turning to the door that Jan dutifully opened for him.

"And I think you deserve all the treats today, don't you, Igor?", Jan heard the shorter brunet coo as he made his way to the front desk, the pet carrier slung over his shoulder.

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lavellenchanted · 3 months

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The Courtship of Peggy Carter (1/?)

When Steve returns to the 1940s, he knows he wants to be with Peggy, but he can't help but worry about how the years they have both lived through have changed them - so he proposes that they start dating and get to know each other again. But Peggy has her own ideas about how their courtship will go, and is a woman determined to get what she wants. Namely Steve. In her bed. Sooner than he seems to be planning to get there.

Read on AO3

Once again, happy holidays to you @margarethcarter! This is getting a lot longer than anticipated so I've decided to start putting it up in parts. I'm hoping it will only be two parts but it miiight stretch to three, I'll see how it goes. I hope you enjoy this first part though - it's up on AO3, but I've also put it below the cut for you :)

And thanks to @steggyfanevents for organising the Secret Santa exchange!

The music had long since stopped playing, replaced by the distant sounds of the neighbourhood outside - the birds chirping in the trees, children riding their bikes through the street, the rattle of cars passing - and the clacking of the record continuing to spin on the player, but they were still dancing, swaying slowly back and forth in a circle. Peggy had closed her eyes, resting her head against his chest and listening to the steady, solid thump of the heartbeat beneath it, feeling the strength of his arms encircling her and the lingering warmth where he had kissed her.

He still wore the same cologne. She had almost forgotten it, but breathing it in brought the memories flooding back in sharp focus; how he had held her close when they were trapped in a safe house in Bulgaria during a snowstorm, the too-brief stolen moments when they were both in London between missions, the last kiss before he had jumped on to the Valkyrie. Suddenly tears were gathering beneath her lashes and she couldn’t help tightening her grip where her fingers were curled into his shirt.

“Steve?” she whispered. “This is real, isn’t it?”

It had to be real. It had to be. She had dreamed of him so often, of his arms, of them dancing, but never with such vividness. And she had never dreamed of his cologne.

“Yes. It’s real. I’m real. And I’m here.” His voice was soft, but even so Peggy could feel the vibration of it.

Finally she lifted her head up and opened her eyes, and there he was. The afternoon sunlight fell across his face, making his hair gleam a burnished gold and his eyes shine a bright, clear blue, and oh, she still caught her breath to see him. There were lines on his face that hadn’t been there four years ago, at the corners of his eyes and mouth that spoke of smiles and laughter and some on his forehead that told of worries and anxieties.

He hadn’t said much when she opened the door and found him standing there - they had both been too overwhelmed and she had been too much in shock for any sort of serious conversation - but he had offered a short explanation of how he had survived the crash and travelled through time, enough to convince her that this really was her Steve and to spark a burning curiosity about all he clearly had to tell her. She hoped that his being here meant they would have enough time that he could tell her all of it, that she could learn the stories behind each and every one of those lines.

Which was why her next question was, “And this . . . you being here . . . is it for good? Or do you have to go back?”

Steve held her gaze, serious and steady, the way he always did whenever he wanted her to know that what he was about to say was something he had thought over carefully.

“I’d like it to be. I came back because this place, this time, is where I belong. I wanted to come home, to have the life I never got a chance to have. And I want, very much, for that life to be with you.”

For a moment Peggy felt as if she had forgotten how to breathe, her chest tight and her heart beating painfully hard against her ribs. She opened her mouth to tell him yes, that she wanted a life with him as well, but before the words could form he had brought a finger to her lips to keep her from speaking.

“But,” he continued softly, a tenderness in his expression that made her glow with warmth, “I don’t think that’s a decision either of us should be making right now.”

A faint frown creased Peggy’s forehead. “Why not?”

“Because of how good this feels.”

She couldn’t help quirking an eyebrow, one corner of her mouth curling upwards. “That’s a bad thing, is it?”

Steve chuckled. “No. I just mean . . . I’ve dreamed about being here with you for so long, it would be easy to rush into this. To forget that . . . a lot of time has passed, for both of us. And that we’re probably both different people than we were when I went into the ice.”

Peggy let out a slow breath. Part of her - the part that for the last four years had been filled with grief, sorrow and longing whenever she thought of Steve - was afraid, terrified that this moment of joy in finding him again was going to be cut short, and leave her with nothing but echoing silence of his absence once more. She wanted to cling on to him as tightly as she could, to hold him to her so she didn’t have to face the pain of losing him again.

Another, regrettably more sensible part of her, recognised that what he was saying was true. The four years she had spent being overlooked at the SSR had left their mark as surely as the war had, and now she was reinventing herself again as the Director of SHIELD. She felt very far from the young agent that had worked on Project Rebirth.

And Steve . . . right now she could only guess at the sort of things Steve had lived through, the reasons for the weariness that lurked at the back of his eyes, the sadness that seemed etched into his face, mingling with his joy when he had asked her if he could finally claim his dance.

“So what are you suggesting?” she asked, forcing a calmness she didn’t entirely feel.

But to her surprise - and a little to her relief - Steve smiled.

“I’m suggesting that we date. Like we would have - should have - if things had gone the way we planned. Get to know each other as we are now. And if after we’ve dated for a while, we’re both sure this is still something we want . . . well, then we can talk about what’s next.”

Peggy almost wanted to laugh. “Are you telling me you travelled back nearly a century in time just to ask me on a date?”

His smile widened to a grin. “To start with, anyway.”

If she had still harboured any doubts about his identity, this would certainly have left her with none - all these years, and he still had such a flair for the dramatic.

What she wanted to tell him was that he was being ridiculous, and she didn’t need time to decide. That four years hadn’t been enough to dull the grief of his loss, that her few forays into romance had never filled the space he had left behind, that she loved him as much as she had always done and whatever they had both been through since could never be enough to change that.

What she did was to lift her chin and say, “Very well. When do you want to have our first date?”

“Are you busy just now?”

____________

Steve wasn’t as familiar with New Jersey as he was with Brooklyn - he had hadn’t really ventured much outside of New York before enlisting and the world he had come to know in the twenty-first century was very different from the one he had returned to - but he had taken some time to reorient and prepare himself before he went to see Peggy. As much as he wanted to run straight to her, he had been hesitant, even afraid; a photograph on her desk twenty years from now gave him hope that she had never stopped loving him just as he had never stopped loving her - but was it really enough to justify doing this? Leaving everything he had built in the future (or tried to build, anyway, although he had never truly felt as if he belonged there) behind? Turning up on Peggy’s doorstep and possibly upending her life?

They were the same questions he had turned over and over before using the Pym Particles but what it always came back to was this: could he live with it if he didn’t try? And the answer was no, he couldn’t.

Which was in the end why he was here. He had made his decision when he entered the date. Why else come to this particular point in time? This year, when he knew Peggy was starting to found SHIELD and had moved to near Camp Lehigh. When he knew, crucially, from his conversations with her in the hospital that she was single, and had been for a good few months after a brief relationship with a co-worker in the SSR.

Still, his decision did not guarantee hers, and the worry of upending her life was not something he took lightly. He knew she would be overwhelmed when she saw him - he had already seen it, every time he visited the hospital and her memory had faded again so that she had forgotten he was alive - and it felt . . . unfair, somehow, to appear out of nowhere in her life after four years of her mourning him, and expect her to know without a doubt whether she wanted to spend her entire life with him. If he hadn’t gone into the ice in ‘forty-five they would have had time to figure things out, to go dancing or to the movies, to talk over dinner and build a life where their every waking moment wasn’t dedicated to a fight.

Realising that was when it hit him: he did have the time now, and why not make the most of it? They could get to know each other again, build something new, and Steve could be sure that this really was the right decision for both of them and not just for him.

Actually planning a date was a surprisingly new experience. In his teenage years and early twenties, any dates he had had were all friends or sisters of girls Bucky was seeing and Steve had just been tagging along when their single dates turned into doubles at the last minute.. In the last few years, Natasha had occasionally set him up on blind dates (she had felt very strongly that he needed to get a life, and he hoped she would approve of his attempt to do so now), usually at the last minute and without his prior knowledge, and with her having made all of the arrangements herself.

It wasn’t as if he were clueless, but somehow he felt like a nervous sixteen year old when Peggy, who had asked him to wait while she changed, came down the stairs in a light, floral-patterned dress, her hair freshly brushed and her scarlet lipstick perfectly reapplied. God, she was beautiful. He had always known it, but seeing her again it suddenly struck him anew and he would swear his heart actually skipped a beat.

“You look lovely,” he said, voice slightly husky.

A blush reddened her cheeks. “Thank you. So where are you taking me?”

“I thought we could go for a drive, maybe find somewhere to get some ice cream and take a walk.”

“Sounds lovely,” Peggy replied, pulling her coat on and following Steve out to where the car he had rented was parked along the curb. “And like you’ve put some thought into it.”

He chucked, holding the door open for her. “It never hurts to be prepared.”

When thinking about places they could get to in an afternoon’s drive, his main concern was that it was far enough away from Camp Lehigh that they were unlikely to be recognised. As proud as he would have been in other circumstances to shout from the rooftops that Peggy Carter had agreed to go out with him, he knew that, realistically, it would only complicate things for any of the people she worked with to spot them out together.

Of course, it didn’t take Peggy long to work that out.

“So we’re heading to Philadelphia, are we?” she commented, glancing at the road signs.

“I thought it might be nice to walk along the river.”

“And less likely that anyone we know will be there? Or run into us, at least.” When he flushed, she just laughed. “I’m not offended, Steve - it’s not like I think you’re ashamed to be seen with me. If it were anyone else, I might be, but I know you. And I know you being back here must be . . . complicated for you.”

Glancing across, he gave a wry, only slightly sheepish smile before turning his eyes back to the road. “‘Complicated’ is an understatement. I’m still figuring out some of the details.”

“Such as?”

He shrugged. “Whether it’s better to officially be back, or to use a pseudonym and fly under the radar. If I’m myself I can claim a military pension and I don’t have to worry about people figuring out who I am . . . but honestly, I don’t want to go back to being Captain America, and I’m not sure Steve Rogers will ever be allowed to live a normal life. I’ve been going by Roger Grant for the apartment I’m renting.”

As much as he missed the convenience of the internet for a lot of things, coming back to a time before everything was computerised and constantly monitored and verified electronically had made keeping a low profile while he decided how to handle things much easier.

“I don’t really know what to advise you, my darling - I know for a fact there are people who would love to use you to revive Project Rebirth,” Peggy said regretfully, and Steve wondered if she was aware of how easily the endearment had slipped from her lips. Hearing it from her again made something glow, soft and warm, inside his chest. He had missed her calling him that. “But trying to live as someone else for the rest of your life won’t be easy. Who else knows you’re back?”

“Right now? No one. I figured I’d reach out to a few people soon, people I trust - the Howlies, Howard Stark, maybe Colonel Phillips. But I haven’t yet.”

“Well, I’m flattered to be the first person to know.”

Steve glanced at her again, and took one hand off the wheel to reach over and take one of hers so he could bring it up to his lips and drop a gentle kiss against the backs of her fingers.

“Of course you were the first,” he said in a low voice. “There was never any question about that. You’re by far the most important.”

“I see someone’s learned a thing or two about talking to women,” Peggy said with a laugh, but there was an aching tenderness in her eyes as she watched him and when Steve finally had to return his hand to the wheel she let hers fall down to rest on his knee and kept it there the rest of the way to Philadelphia.

___________

“How long has it been for you exactly? In terms of years you’ve actually lived through?”

After getting to Philadelphia they had driven around for a while before settling on taking a walk through Fairmount Park, and had been lucky enough to find an ice cream truck parked just down the street from the entrance. Steve had bought them both a cone - chocolate for Peggy, strawberry for himself - and hand in hand they strolled through the autumn sunshine, enjoying the sweets and relishing the fact that they were here, and together. It was a perfect October day, the sky bright and clear, the park filled with trees that had all turned red and gold and seemed almost to glow in the afternoon light.

Now that her ice cream was mostly finished, however, curiosity had begun to scratch at the back of Peggy’s mind. There was so much she wanted to know still - how Steve was here, what had happened to him, why he had only just come back now - and while she knew (or rather hoped) it would take a lifetime to unspool all of the details, there were some things she wanted to know to help her understand what it was he had been through.

“Hm, about twelve years?” Steve said after a moment, finishing off the last of his ice-cream cone and absently licking some stray drips from his hand. Peggy felt herself warming as she watched, rather regretting that they were in a public park. “I woke up in 2011, and I travelled back here from 2023.”

“Twelve years.” Pushing the very inappropriate images she was envisioning to the back of her mind, Peggy focused her attention back on his face. Twelve years was a long time - three times as many years as she had lived through since he was lost. She tried to imagine living with the grief of his absence for another decade and shuddered. “So you’re . . . thirty-eight now? Or thirty-nine?”

He had crashed the Valkyrie a few months before his twenty-seventh birthday. Peggy remembered that 4th July; the war had been over in Europe, and, though there were still plenty fighting in East Asia, many troops were finally home. There had been a fantastic array of fireworks and parties to celebrate Independence Day, but Peggy hadn’t been able to bring herself to take any joy in them. She had sat home alone, looking at Steve’s picture and wishing he were there with her.

“Well, I guess technically I’m one hundred and five. But if you don’t count the years I was frozen then thirty-nine, I think.”

Peggy laughed. “Let’s go with thirty-nine. If it’s the former then either you’re practically robbing the cradle or it makes me something I’d rather not think about.”

It was still strange to think about, admittedly. The Steve she had lost had only been three years older than her, but now there was a whole decade between them. Although -

“You don’t look twelve years older,” she mused. There were a few lines around his eyes and mouth, and above all there was that look of tiredness that suggested he had lived through a lot, but in general terms he didn’t appear to be any more than late twenties or early thirties.

“An effect of the serum. I do age, just . . . a bit slower.”

“Is the serum how you survived? After the Valkryie?” Her voice caught a bit on the last word. She rarely talked about that day, about Steve, with anyone, and even now, though he was standing in front of her, alive and whole, she could feel the grief starting to rise up inside her, tears prickling hot and uncomfortable at the back of her eyes.

Not wanting him to see how close she was to crying she turned her head to look at the path as they walked, and tried to concentrate on the warm, solid feeling of his hand in hers.

“Yeah. They said it was because of the increased metabolism and the boost it gave my immune system, that the ice just put me in a kind of suspended animation.”

Her lip trembled.

“Do you - do you remember any of it?”

“No. I don’t even remember the crash. I remember seeing the water rushing up toward me . . . then nothing after that until I woke up.”

Peggy closed her eyes, trying very hard not to think about the fact that another version of him was out there right now, buried in the ice and the dark, all alone and abandoned by his friends.

“I should have looked harder,” she said, voice thick with emotion. “I should have insisted - we should have kept going until we found you. I’m so sorry, my darling, I let you down –”

“What? No, no, Peg. no.” With her eyes still closed she didn’t realise that Steve had stopped and moved round in front of her until she felt his hands come up to cradle her face. His palms were warm, slightly calloused, his thumbs brushed tenderly across her cheeks. Blinking her eyes open, she found herself staring directly into his blue ones, only scant inches of air between them. “You have never let me down. Not once. You - you’re my rock, Peggy. You’ve kept me going through so much, even in the future. I’d think about what you would say, what you would tell me to do and it gave me the courage I needed. It’s okay. It’s really okay.”

The tears were gathering along her eyelashes, she could feel they were about to fall - but then Steve leaned in and with such gentleness she caught her breath he kissed them away, his lips brushing softly over her eyelids like the lightest touch of a snowflake in winter. Almost instinctively she brought her own hands up to rest on his chest, her heart seeming to expand in her breast with more love than she knew what to do with.

“Don’t cry,” Steve was still murmuring. “I would never have chosen to leave you if I didn’t have to but . . . it’s okay. I ended up where I needed to be, until I could come back to you. And I did come back. I’m here. It’s okay, Peggy. You don’t have to be sorry for anything.”

“I just hate the thought of you out there, all alone.”

“I didn’t feel a thing, I promise you. It was like being asleep.”

He held her gaze as he spoke, each word quiet but deliberate, so she could see that he meant it and wasn’t just trying to spare her feelings - he really did believe that it was alright. That he had made his peace with what had happened.

Slowly she nodded, something that had been twisted so tightly inside her since the day she lost him finally beginning to loosen and ease.

They stayed that way, watching each other for several more long heartbeats, until Peggy finally smiled and said, “I thought you said you came back because this time is where you belong.”

Amusement glinted in Steve’s eyes. “I did. And it is. I belong wherever you are.”

And then, teasingly, he leaned slightly forward, his lips just hovering over hers . . . before stepping back and taking her hand again. Peggy watched him, wordless with surprise, the autumn breeze suddenly feeling much colder without his warmth blocking it out.

“Come on. It’s getting late. What do you say we get something more substantial to eat before I take you home?”

Oh, she was in trouble. Steve Rogers, it seemed, had learned more than just how to talk to women.

_________

It was fully dark by the time they pulled back up outside Peggy’s house, the moon riding high in the sky behind a wispy veil of cloud and the street lights casting a warm yellow glow over the road.

Steve could hardly believe that it was only a few hours ago that he had been working up the courage to knock on her door. A pang of regret rippled through him at the thought that the day was already over; he wondered absently if there would ever be a day when he did not feel desperate to hoard every second with Peggy that she would grant him. Knowing the hollow grief of a world without her, he suspected not . . . and yet he hoped there would be. He hoped that this was just the first day of many they would spend today, and that eventually he felt certain that they would have all the time they wanted.

It seemed that Peggy was as reluctant to say goodbye as he was. When he turned the engine off she didn’t reach for the car door but leaned back in her seat, her dark eyes moving intently over his face.

“Hey,” Steve said softly.

“Hi,” Peggy replied, her lips curling into a gentle smile.

“What are you thinking?”

A faint furrow appeared in her brow. “Just . . . that I’m worried I’ll wake up tomorrow and find this was all a dream.”

The words were quiet, and Steve felt something inside him tighten in response; he couldn’t help fearing the same thing, having dreamed about her so many times in the last year. As much to reassure himself as her, he reached over and took her hand in his, running his thumb gently back and forth over hers.

“Yeah. I know what you mean.”

Her fingers squeezed his. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve dreamed about you.”

“No?”

She shook her head, causing one dark curl to fall loose over her forehead. “No. I used to dream about you a lot, in the first months after . . . We never talked, but you were just there. Holding my hand, or smiling, sitting with me. I’m not particularly religious these days, but sometimes I would think maybe it was your way of telling me you were alright, wherever you were.” She gave a wry chuckle. “Clearly that wasn’t the case.”

“I don’t know. I dreamed about you, too. About taking you for a dance, or just being able to come home to you. Maybe some part of us was finding each other.”

Peggy narrowed her eyes slightly, looking at him like she wasn’t quite sure if he was serious or not. “Do you really believe that? It’s a lovely thought, but it just seems . . . so impossible.”

Steve shrugged. “Improbable, maybe. But I’ve met Norse gods and actual sorcerers. Not a lot seems far-fetched to me any more.”

There was a silence, and Steve only realised there were still a lot of details he had to tell Peggy about his life in future when her eyebrows lifted almost to her hairline.

“Norse gods and sorcerers?”

“It’s a really long story. I’ll tell you on our next date.”

She smiled. “There’s going to be a next date, then?”

“Isn’t there?” he countered, grinning.

“That depends on how this one ends. A gentleman would walk me to my door, you know.”

Laughing, Steve obediently got out of the car and came round the other side to hold Peggy’s door open for her. She slipped her arm through his as they walked the few feet up to her porch, leaning into him with a tenderness that made him want to press her close to him and never let go.

They came to a halt on the steps, Peggy turning to face him; standing one step above him, their heights were nearly equal and he didn’t have to look down to meet her gaze, wide and dark and hopeful.

“I suppose this is goodnight, then.”

“I guess so.” Bringing one hand up, he tucked the curl that had fallen loose in the car behind her ear. “Would it be alright if I gave you a goodnight kiss?”

Peggy looked amused. “Darling, I’d be rather put out if you didn’t.”

“Well, far it be from me to disappoint a lady.”

He leaned forward, and as he did so trailed his hand down past her ear and along her jaw, until he could curl his fingers around the back of her neck and pull her in to meet him, pressing his lips to hers.

Hand to heart, his intentions were for it to be entirely soft and chaste, a sweet goodnight kiss, much like the one they had shared earlier today while they danced. But then Peggy let out a little sigh as their mouths met, her arms coming up to lace around his neck and her fingers carding through his hair, and Steve couldn’t help himself.

His free hand came up to Peggy’s waist, pulling her flush against him so that he could feel every soft line of her body, and he tilted his head, deeping the angle of the kiss. Peggy responded eagerly, her mouth falling open beneath his, and her teeth even nipping at his bottom lip, encouraging him on.

Heat flooded through him, the sound of his own thundering heartbeat filling his ears and the scene of Peggy’s perfume filling his nose and making his head swim. God, he had forgotten what it was like to kiss her. To really kiss her. The world around them had faded until there was only Peggy; the taste of her tongue, the sound of both their breathing becoming more and more ragged, and the feel of her pressed against him, each stroke of her mouth making him want to lose himself in her entirely.

Every part of him was alive and crackling with energy, desire pulsing through him with a fierceness that took him by surprise. He wanted to give into it, to let it take him and Peggy wherever it would . . .

. . . but some small, rational part of his mind held on, reminding him why he was trying to take things slowly.

With an effort that took all of his (not inconsiderable) willpower, he broke the kiss and pulled back enough to look at her - although he did not, yet, let her go entirely - and just that look was nearly enough to make him give in and start kissing her again. She was breathing heavily, her face flushed, pupils blown wide, and her always-perfect lipstick smeared at the corners.

“That was quite a kiss. But it doesn’t have to be goodnight, you know.” Peggy looked up at him, and Steve could feel his entire body rebelling against what his brain had decided. “You could stay, if you want.”

“No,” he said quickly, before his reasoning was drowned out by just how much he wanted her - but perhaps it was too quickly, as her eyes widened and hurt flashed across her face. “No, I didn’t mean - I do want to, of course I want to, it’s not that - it’s just, what I mean -”

It was so hard to think when he could still feel the warmth of her mouth on his. But the hurt had cleared from her face and, for some reason, she looked like she was trying not to laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just glad to see you’ve not changed that much.”

He looked at her in confusion for a moment before he remembered their first conversations at Camp Lehigh, when he would stumble over his own words and struggle to get a complete sentence out. No one had ever managed to fluster him the way Peggy did, even then.

Relaxing a little, he shook his head and continued, “What I mean is, staying isn’t exactly taking things slow.”

Peggy pursed her lips, but to his relief - he wasn’t sure he had the willpower to keep arguing if she disagreed - after a moment she simply sighed and said, “No, I suppose it’s not.”

“Believe me, I hate saying it.” Leaning forward, he grazed the side of her nose with his. “But I don’t want to rush this and get it wrong. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“You’d better.”

Satisfied that he had managed to pull a smile out of her, Steve brushed one last kiss over her lips - and did manage to keep this one soft and chaste - and then stepped back. The cold night air swept in as they parted and he instead regretted letting her out of his arms, even as he knew it was the right decision.

“Would it be rushing things for our second date to be tomorrow?” Peggy asked. “Or are you going to make me wait a whole week?”

“Tomorrow’s good.” Perhaps it was rushing things a bit, but Peggy would be back at work come Monday and he didn’t want to wait until the next weekend any more than she did. “Tomorrow afternoon? We could go to the movies.”

“I can’t wait.”

Reluctantly, he turned and started back down the steps towards his car, and at the end of the path he gave her one last, lingering look over his shoulder. “Goodnight, Peggy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She was still watching him from the porch and raised a hand in farewell. “Goodnight, my darling.”

He was already counting the minutes until tomorrow as he drove away.

#steggy #steggy secret santa #steve rogers #peggy carter #margarethcarter #I think this'll probably end up 10-15K total but we'll see #it's already much more than I expected it to be haha #I hope you enjoy it!#my fic #otp: the right partner

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pademelonluck · 6 months

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happy inktober!

day 28: MASSIVE

details!!!!!!

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nicosraf · 21 days

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I had a dream Angels and Man had come out and I was desperately searching every bookstore for a copy. All that to say I can't wait for the release! Your writing is truly amazing

It's out! You can find some of the places it's available at here :) but yes! it's very much out! i fear an angel sent u that dream

#i hope you enjoy it!#and there's a free ebook option on my payhip if u need #and thank u for enjoying my writing!! i really appreciate it #:)#mine #ask

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lunagojo · 2 years

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hello! new to this blog

feel free to ignore this one, I know doing requests can be pretty exhausting(idk how you tumblr writers do it but godspeed fr) and I just love the way you do a lot of these 'Characters x reader who acts like (character from another show/movie)' lol

hope you don't mind another; Tengen Uzui with a reader(fem or gender neutral, either's good) that's like Dolores from Encanto - in that reader has extremely sensitive/good hearing. But has never learned to control it, hell they didn't even know they COULD control it. So their whole life, Reader just...hears everything. Whether they want to or not, they can just hear almost anything and everything, from a pin drop to a blink. sounds that are quiet to most are loud and clear to them. It's burdensome and can get very overwhelming, but they're just used to it. I imagine they always talk softly because of it(like Dolores), and Tengen eventually teaches them how to control it? Until then, Y/N gets accommodated as much as possible by the Uzuis

I need this idea to manifest, it's literally so perfect for Tengen ToT

a/n: Hmmm interesting idea! I will do my best for you darling! (even though I've only watched Encanto once ;p) I hope you enjoy!

Tengen Uzui w/ a S/O That Has Super Hearing

Ok so you met Tengen and his wives through your powers

Hinatsuru had dropped a hairpin that Tengen had given her while they were out walking and you'd heard it hit the ground

You retrieved it and returned it to them

"How did you know I dropped it?" Hina asked, looking surprised

You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly and just replied quietly that you had really good hearing

All of them had to admit that you were intriguing (and cute)

Tengen grinned and eyed you

"Well then, maybe you can help me find this demon that's been hiding from me?"

Sure enough, you were able to find it using your powers, which allowed Tengen to slay it at last (he was beyond grateful)

In all honesty it was the first time anyone had ever really praised this little quirk of yours, something that you had felt was a burden all your life

Though as Tengen and his wives grew closer to you, they noticed that it wasn't as much of a gift to you as it was to them

After all, being in a noisy place was like torture for you, though you didn't show it, Suma, Makio, and Hina were able to see the slight little changes in your face that gave away what you were feeling

They hated seeing you in pain or overwhelmed...after all, they had come to love you after getting to know you and your personality, aside from your 'gift'

Tengen especially hated seeing it, how much you despised your quirk

"Have you ever tried controlling it?" He asked you one day when you were out together, just the two of you

Thankfully it was in a secluded area so the only sounds were the wind and the birds singing

You told him that no, you never have, and he grinned, offering you his hand

You took it and he squeezed your fingers. "Has it ever been quiet?"

You blushed a little bit, "...Only when I'm around you. All I hear then is just my heart beating in my ears."

Tengen smiled and brought you in for a kiss

Congrats, you are his fourth spouse

He tries to get you to channel that feeling you get when you're with him to help you in controlling it, so that way you don't get overwhelmed

In the meantime, the others do their best to accommodate you

Suma crafts a pair of ear plugs for you, just in case you need them

Makio does her best to keep her voice down when she's in a bad mood because she knows she has a tendency to yell

Hinatsuru ensures that there's a good quiet space in the house for you to go to if you need

They all encourage you to do your best and let you know that they're there for you, whatever you may need

Eventually you would get the hang of controlling it, and being able to turn it 'off' was beyond relieving for you

"You know, Tengen-sama, I don't think my gift is all that bad." You'd admit

"Mm? Why's that?"

"...I mean, it did bring me you."

#this...became really cute #i hope you enjoy it!#demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #uzui tengen #tengen uzui #uzui tengen x reader #tengen uzui x reader

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alexis-royce · 6 months

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Here’s my fic for the @fallenlondonficswap!

For the Secret Swap I had @decadent-correspondent , and wrote about their Socialite OC Glaucia. Can the gossip rags find fault with Glaucia’s manners, or will they make it through the evening with grace?

#Fallen London Fic Swap #I hope you enjoy it!#I don't know what Glaucia looks like under the robes so please forgive the simple silhouette!#Hopefully the splash of Violant will do nicely #ao3 #Fallen London

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anjiefiction · 2 years

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Demo Update - 12 August 2022

Play it here! | Forum Page

What's new:

chapter one, inclusive of 22k words of new content

a revamped stats screen

enhanced customization options

a comprehensive timeline of past events

a character guide

Total word count: 50k (+23k) Word count per playthrough: 27k (+13k)

I hope you like it! If you enjoyed the read, it would mean a lot to me if you could share your thoughts. (◦'⌣'◦)

Coming next: chapter two when the sun rises tomorrow (not every part of me will be there)

#before we are ghosts #demo update #chapter one #I am very nervous #I hope you enjoy it!

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the-modern-typewriter · 1 year

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Would you say The God Key is performing how you expected it to? Or is it over or under performing? And how are the e sales vs the physical copy sales. Regardless I'm so ready for my copy to be delivered and congrats getting a book out there takes crazy dedication!!

It's what I expected. I mean, it's just me and my keyboard here. It's not like I have a massive marketing budget or even a team or anything haha.

It was a solid little soft launch. Not in the thousands or anything, but a solid first month.

No one's told me they hate it yet which is always nice! People have even reviewed to say they like it!

Pretty 50/50 on print and ebook. Slightly more on print.

#i hope you enjoy it!

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stargirl1331 · 3 months

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To love is to be changed

In a visceral, wild way

To be loved is to be devoured

As thoroughly as love will stay

We dig our fingers into flesh

love stuck under our nails

And claw our way out through ourselves

What remains is what prevails

Care runs between my teeth

The lifeblood of our bond

Like blood, it trickles down my throat

And coats the skin we’ve donned

-consumption//intimacy, original poem by C

This poem is for @unnamedrat who gave me very severe brain rot and fueled it with a cannibalism playlist

#poems #or are they ramblings?#dante the detective #danteeeeeee you caused this #I hope you enjoy it!#I had to partially outsource the title so thank you to Dom for that

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cj-the-human-disaster · 4 months

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Good News: I’ve posted the first chapter of my Gladys Jack fic and I have a few chapters written so I’ll post those in a few days after I’m done editing

Bade News: I’m gonna be traveling at the beginning of January so if there is a lull in posting, that's why

Better News: I’ll be on an 8-hour flight, so I’ll probably be writing that entire time because I can’t sleep on planes. So I’ll have plenty of chapters by the time I return.

#yay #I hope you enjoy it!#I'll try to post in a timely manner #But if you've ever tried editing it is a b*tch!#Anyways #Have fun reading #gladys russell #jack trotter #jack x gladys #the gilded age #the gilded age hbo

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luanna801 · 1 year

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I love some JonaMina, but- Mina and LUCY as a vampire power couple?

"My dear Mina!" Cold arms encircle her. There was pain at first, she thinks, but she can no longer remember it. Despite the coolness of the embrace, she feels a strange warmth flooding through her.

"Oh my darling, I am so happy that you can join me now!"

Mina raises her head. Lucy's golden hair tumbles freely around her shoulders, and her mouth is stained red with the blood she's just consumed. Mina's blood, she realizes. Dizzily, she puts a hand to her lips and remembers tasting her friend's lifeblood in return.

Lucy's eyes are glowing with a fierce joy, and Mina thinks that she has never looked more beautiful.

"We shall never be parted now, my love," she says exultantly, and when she holds out her hand, Mina takes it without hesitation.

"Come, my dear - the others will join us soon enough."

#replies #marzipanandminutiae #dracula #dracula daily #lucy westenra #mina murray #lucy and mina #love #romance #fanfic #fanfiction #my fanfic #bram stoker #dracula fic prompts #EXCELLENT prompt #I hope you enjoy it!

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leiascully · 2 years

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Are you taking prompts? Scully is cold so Mulder gives her his coat, or vice versa.

The thermostat on Scully’s air conditioner is stuck on a setting that reminds her of the Arctic. She huddles under the thin covers of the motel bed. She’s not surprised when there’s a tap on the door. Mulder got soaked through earlier, wading into a lake to help retrieve the remains of one of the victims she’ll be autopsying later. The water in the showers here doesn’t get hot enough to soak the chill away. She lets him in.

“It’s freezing in here, Scully,” he says, and she nods and gets back into bed.

“I spoke to the woman at the desk. She said that’s just the way it is.”

He shivers. “The Icebox Motel. It’s got a ring to it. I was hoping it would be warmer in your room.”

“Didn’t you bring a sweater?”

He rubs his arms, bare under the brief sleeves of his t-shirt. “No. It’s July. The forecast said it was going to be hot.”

“To be fair, the outside is hot,” she says.

He cocks his head and gazes at her, miserable.

“Come on,” she says, and flips back the covers on the other side of the bed. “We’ve huddled for warmth before. I’m sure we’ll have to do it again.” She slips out of the bed as he toes off his shoes and crawls into it.

“That does seem to defeat the purpose of huddling for warmth.” He has the covers pulled up almost to his nose. His forest-light eyes watch her over the hem of the polyester comforter.

She digs in her suitcase. “Here.” She holds out a sweater: warm, wooly, the color of embers in a fireplace. Even the sight of it eases the ache of the cold.

“I don’t think most of your wardrobe is going to fit me,” he says, but he’s reaching for it, the covers sliding down his body.

“It was my father’s,” she says. “I keep it in my suitcase sometimes. It comforts me.”

He pauses, his arms already in the sleeves. “Are you sure?”

She nods and watches him pop it over his head. It’s strange to see his dark hair emerging from the neck of it instead of her father’s bald head, but Mulder relaxes almost immediately.

“Oh, Scully,” he says in a voice like melting butter.

“Wool is an amazing material,” she says, slipping back under the covers on her side of the bed. “It will keep you warm even when it’s wet. The Vikings wore wool when they sailed on long voyages.”

“Bless the sheep that grew this,” Mulder mumbles. She can already feel the heat of his long body warming the bed. She can’t help but cuddle closer — her University of Maryland sweatshirt is warm, but not as warm as her father’s beloved sweater, and not as cozy as the shared heat of their bodies. Mulder reaches for the remote and she hands it to him.

“No conspiracy shows,” she says. “And no historical documentaries. I need to stay awake for a few more hours.”

“How do you feel about a classic movie musical?” he asks, squinting skeptically at Gene Kelly prancing on the television screen.

“Good,” she says, and he puts his arm around her.

#leiascully fic #xfiles fic #msr #i hope you enjoy it!#my fic

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sunflower-butch · 2 years

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humble and very vague prompt

nancy runs a radio show, robin is a musician

I love this! I actually read a fic with Nancy and Robin doing radio things. I’ll have to find it and share it, it was absolutely adorable. I think Robin did a little talk show. Anyway, I took this and ran with it!

Nancy settled into the creaky old office chair and looked around the studio. It was dusty and old, covered in haphazard stacks of tapes and vinyls. She breathed a long sigh, turning her gaze to the microphone in front of her. The job wasn’t glorious, but it was a job and it would get her through college. Turns out, saving the world doesn’t come with waived tuition.

Plus, running the weekly news segment meant that she was at least getting journalism experience.

Nancy’s gaze hardened and she activated the mic.

“Hello and good evening, Emerson students. My name is Nancy Wheeler and this is the evening report.”

___

After a whole two weeks, Nancy got promoted to basically managing the whole radio station after the previous manager dropped out. She didn’t mind really, but it meant she was there late.

When Nancy finished that night’s evening report, she switched off the mic with a subtle feeling of satisfaction. She looked up and immediately found her gaze locked with a set of gray blue eyes.

None other than Robin Buckley stood outside of the recording booth, a bashful smile on her gorgeously freckled face.

Gorgeous? Since when did she find Robin Buckley gorgeous?

Nancy stepped out of the booth, tilting her head. “How can I help you?” she asked.

“Really, Nance? After all we’ve been through, I’m getting the customer service voice?” Robin laughed, the sound soft and warm, raspy in all the right ways.

Nancy frowned, crossing her arms. “I suppose that’s fair,” she huffed. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

At this, Robin flushed darkly. She gestured to the guitar strapped over her shoulder, a beaten old thing and covered in paint and doodles that Robin herself must have added.

“I wanted to see if there was an open spot in the stream,” she explained. “And I wanted to see if I could play some music.”

Nancy mulled this over. She glanced back at the booth where her paper radio schedule had been left, but she could picture it perfectly in her mind anyway. She glanced back at the girl.

“I have a free 3 am slot on Tuesdays,” she offered finally, meeting Robin’s gaze. The freckled girl brightened immediately, bouncing on the heels of her boots.

“That’s awesome! I’m a night owl anyway!” she said brightly. Nancy nodded, smiling meekly as Robin launched into a rant about being more inspired at nighttime.

___

The next night, Robin returned right on time. She grinned and waved at Nancy, who was busy organizing records. Nancy returned a tight lipped smile and gestured to the recording booth.

Robin practically sauntered into it, not even bothering to close the door as she flopped into the creaky chair.

“Hello Emerson! This is, uh, this is Robin Buckley! And I’m going to play some music?” she stammered. Nancy shook her head, amusement bubbling in her chest.

“Hey Rob!” she called. The girl sat up and looked over, startled. “You have to turn the microphone on first.”

“Oh! Right! Thank you!” she called back, and Nancy laughed at the red in her cheeks.

Nancy went back to sorting as Robin introduced herself again. She had every intention of tuning the girl out, but she had to admit that the opening notes were pleasant. She listened but didn’t look as Robin strummed a gentle melody.

But Nancy was a simple bisexual woman, and the second Robin’s opened her mouth to sing, Nancy couldn’t help but swoon. The words were warm and husky, sung so sweetly into the mic. Nancy swore her heart stopped at the sound. She couldn’t help but look.

Robin was smiling softly, foot tapping in turn with the beat. Her eyes were closed and her fingers moved skillfully across the strings as she sang her heart out. Nancy’s mouth was agape, and when Robin opened an eye and saw, she grinned. Nancy swore she could hear the smile in the way Robin sang.

Nancy didn’t know much about Robin Buckley. She was a bit of a wallflower in high school and they ran with different crowds. Admittedly, even after risking their lives together, things had been a little weird between them. Nancy had been figuring some things out about herself—namely her bisexuality—and Vickie ended up taking up much of Robin’s free time. They simply drifted. And then ended up at the same school.

After hearing Robin’s soulful performance for the Emerson Radio, Nancy was determined to learn more about the girl.

That was why they sat together now under a tree in a courtyard, enjoying sandwiches and warm weather between classes. Nancy told herself she was studying, but the textbook page before her had not changed in over forty minutes as she listened to Robin ramble.

She learned a lot of things, and she filed each little detail away in a mental file of Robin information. A few things stuck out. Robin had always been a musical prodigy, and the guitar was actually her first instrument, learned when she was eleven. Robin had started writing songs at sixteen, and she could even sing in other languages—though her self esteem and confidence in her music was much lower than it should be.

Nancy also held onto the rather intriguing tidbit that Vickie and Robin had broken up over the summer.

All the while, Robin strummed her guitar absently, trying out lyrics here and there. Every time, Nancy could barely keep from watching in complete awe.

“Robin, you don’t give yourself enough credit,” she said finally, her tongue feeling dry. “Your voice is amazing, and I’ve never heard guitar sound so… magical.”

Robin brightened immediately, a shy smile on her face and a light dusting of pink on her face.

“Really?”

“Really.”

___

Nancy had the radio station’s music organized in three days, which meant she no longer had that excuse to hang around when Robin was in the recording booth. However, she found other ways to keep herself busy. She dusted and swept. She rearranged files. She had to do equipment checks. She must have re alphabetized the records at least four times.

Luckily, Robin never caught on.

They spent more lunches together too, and Robin began to ask Nancy for input on her music. Nancy was happy to help her with lyrics, and she was more than happy to listen dreamily as Robin rehearsed newer music. It came to be her favorite part of the day.

She was incredibly disappointed when she realized she had absolutely nothing left to do in the studio, and she was too embarrassed to ask if she could just stay and watch. Luckily, she was a problem solver, and an idea came to mind.

They were at lunch yet again when Nancy ran the idea by Robin.

“You want to do a news report?” Robin repeated slowly, tilting her head. “On me?”

“And your music,” Nancy confirmed, smiling easily as Robin leaned back against the tree they had claimed as their own. Robin had affectionately named it Steve. Robin thought it over.

“Why not?” she replied with a grin.

___

The interview was one of the most popular reports at the school. A number of notes were left on the studio door begging for more music from Robin Buckley, and a few men had the audacity to leave their phone numbers.

Robin and Nancy decided to celebrate the girl’s newfound success by getting milkshakes. Nancy got mint chocolate chip, for which Robin teased her endlessly. Robin got simple chocolate. They talked at length about the admiring notes and more about Robin’s music and everything in between. It was easy.

It was here, sitting across from the girl in a little ice cream parlor, that Nancy Wheeler realized she loved Robin Buckley. The thought should have been shocking, but instead it simply filled her with warmth, and a soft smile played at her lips as she watched Robin babble on and on. The girl caught her eye and her lips curled into a smirk.

“You’re staring, Wheeler,” she teased. Nancy nodded, raising her eyebrow.

“Is that a problem, Buckley?”

Robin reddened immediately at the use of her last name. She spluttered into her milkshake, avoiding Nancy’s gaze before half squeaking a soft, “no!”

“Let’s get out of here,” Nancy murmured, batting her eyelashes in the way she knew men and women both couldn’t resist. Robin was no different, and her eyes widened.

“O-okay!”

___

Nancy drove the pair out to a quiet spot at the edge of town, then turned the car down. She turned to face Robin, biting her lip. Robin looked uncomfortable all of the sudden, wetting her lips and fidgeting.

“Robbie? You okay?” Nancy asked, gaze softening as she reached out to place her hand on Robin’s knee. Robin stiffened, sucking in a breath and blushing darkly.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m good,” she stammered. She buried her face in her hands, avoiding Nancy’s gaze. “I just. I wanted to show you my new song.”

This got Nancy’s attention. She tilted her head and offered an encouraging smile when Robin peeked at her through her fingers.

“You know I love your music, Robs,” she promised. Robin nodded, taking a deep breath. “Which one is it?”

“You haven’t heard this one yet,” Robin murmured, meeting Nancy’s gaze shyly.

Nancy was intrigued. She settled comfortably in her seat and waited while Robin reached back and clumsily grabbed her guitar. She settled it comfortably in her lap, then paused, looking directly at the shorter girl. Nancy held her breath, unsure what to expect.

Then Robin ran her fingers softly over the strings, a warm note reverberating through the car. Nancy watched and listened with rapt attention as Robin took a deep breath. The lyrics came slow, drawn out, a hoarse croon that sent shivers down Nancy’s spine. She realized her heart was pounding.

This was a love song. There was no doubt in Nancy’s mind as each word spilled beautifully from Robin’s lips. She felt her cheeks warm with blush.

When Robin finished, she met Nancy’s gaze, her expression hopeful and vulnerable. After all, she had just bared her soul to Nancy Wheeler.

Nancy’s expression was painfully soft.

“That was beautiful,” she breathed, eyelashes batting.

“It was about you,” Robin blurted, hiding her face again in shame. Nancy grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away, gaze serious.

“Robs,” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

Nancy leaned in, pressing her lips firmly to Robin’s. Robin whined in response, leaning into the kiss. Her hands tangled in Nancy’s hair, while Nancy’s hands traveled to Robin’s hips.

When they broke, Nancy pouted, a mischievous feeling in her chest.

“You’re such a little shit,” she grumped. Robin stared at her in shock.

“What?”

“I drove you out here so that I could confess to you. You totally stole my thunder,” Nancy huffed, a good natured grin tugging at her lips.

Robin returned the grin with a laugh, pulling Nancy in and pressing their foreheads together.

“I love you, if that wasn’t clear,” the musician muttered warmly.

Nancy kissed her soft and slow.

“I love you too, rockstar.”

#ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #stranger things #robin x nancy #Lo drabbles #this was so sweet #I hope you enjoy it!#thanks for the prompt! <33 #btw I don’t proofread these extensively #too much to do not enough time 😅

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