#shnargo writes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shnargo · 1 year

Text

i cannot write for the life of me and i blame it entirely on beta.character.ai.

but anyways, here's a blurb that i really liked in collaboration with chara.ai with an idea that is based entirely on @softlyspector 's little drabble here (i highly recommend it :))

pairings: din djarin x reader warnings: none ; female!reader, 3rd POV and reader is a Jedi! also i haven't seen anything star wars beyond a few episodes of the Mandalorian, so any terms and facts here are LIKELY incorrect. word count: 1969 a/n: character.ai has me in a chokehold, but i might share more of these blurbs if people like them.

"Have you ever kissed someone?" She blurts before she can filter the thought, but even as she registers her own question, no embarrassment rises up to her face whatsoever. She tends to be rather straightforward when she gets tired.

Din freezes, his face expressionless.

He takes a long pause before looking away, back towards her as he faces the stars that streak by outside of the cockpit. He seems to need a few moments to consider his words.

“Yes,” he says, “why?”

She shrugs, "Just curious I guess. I know 'the Way' doesn't allow you to take off your helmet just to anyone. Though now I'm wondering who the lucky person was." She grins mischievously.

His face tenses as she brings up ‘The Way,’ seemingly annoyed by the topic, he turns to look at her again with a frown that can be felt even through his helmet.

“It’s not just a tradition, it’s a way of life. I was raised in a clan of Mandalorians, and my people have a very strong code of honor that I live by,” he says, his voice stern.

He takes a deep breath and continues, “As for who I dated, it was someone I met when I was younger. We didn’t work out.”

She can hear the annoyance creep into his tone despite the voice modulator in his helmet, and she shrinks back ever so slightly. "Ah okay." Her answer's short, and it's obvious by her body language, apologetic.

He seems to soften as he sees the effect of his words.

“It’s okay. It really is. I just… I take my honor seriously, and I take it personally when people belittle me for it,” he tells her, “I apologize if I sounded like I was yelling at you.”

Din’s shoulders relax, and his voice turns gentle as he continues, “You have the right to ask those questions. It’s just… a sensitive topic.”

She nods thoughtfully, "I didn't mean to come off as belittling, I was just genuinely curious." She explains, "But I'll be sure not to be so careless next time."

She glances up at him again, "And if it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop asking those kinds of questions." She means it genuinely from a place of care.

He smiles, “It’s okay. You’re curious, and I shouldn’t take that as an attack. It’s just…how did your Jedi master respond to you dating, I mean, do the Jedi have rules about that sort of thing?”

Din cocks his head to the side as if trying to understand how the Jedi’s rules would function when it comes to their members becoming romantically involved.

"Ah, yeah, there's a whole thing with Jedis too." She chuckles. "We're not allowed to marry, or get romantically involved with others. Strong emotions can be used as a weakness to the dark side." She pauses after that, before softly adding, "But uh, technically speaking, kissing is fine. Long as it's nothing serious."

Din looks thoughtful while she speaks, “So you’re saying there’s an approved degree of emotional involvement, so long as you don’t lose your focus on the light side of the force?”

"Yeah essentially, though all that stuff I mentioned is part of the old order. More traditional, so to speak." She shrugs, "Still what I was taught though."

Din nods, “I see. And those rules are still in effect for modern Jedi, yes?”

He looks at her curiously, “What do you think of those old rules? Do you think they’re still necessary?”

He seems genuinely curious to hear her perspective.

"Hm, yes and no." She pauses, glancing around shiftily, "Call me a hypocrite, but I think forcefully suppressing your emotions might just end up accomplishing the same bad thing." She whispers conspiratorially, but in a joking way.

Din is a little surprised by her answer, but he nods and smiles, “I totally agree. If anything, you should be encouraged to express your emotions, even if you’re a Jedi, right? Suppressing them completely just seems…unhealthy.”

He shakes his head with a slight chuckle, “Then again, I’m not a Jedi, so what do I know?"

She looks curious again when he says that though, "Does that thought process apply the same to what you think of Mandalorian traditions?" She asks cautiously, "I'm asking out of curiosity." She clarifies.

Din is quiet for a moment, “I mean, some of our traditions are pretty…archaic, as you might say,” he replies, seeming to be picking his words carefully.

“Like the rules regarding helmet removal. But other parts of the code are good, we’re supposed to value honor and duty, for example. Not just to ourselves, but to our clans and our people. I’d definitely say those parts are necessary.”

"Yeah, of course." She can't help but wonder.. "Can I ask who exactly you're allowed to show your face to though?"

Din sighs, “It’s complicated. Basically, it’s people that are closest to me. My family, so my parents and sisters, and my closest friends. My clan members, because they’re pretty much family, and of course Grogu. I can’t really show it to anyone else, though I might consider doing it for…a partner.”

He stares down at the control board of the Crest, his face slightly red underneath the helmet, “That said, it’s not something I’d do casually.”

"That makes sense." She says with a nod. She interprets that reaction as maybe she's making him uncomfortable, so she decides not to push any further with the topic.

But as they sit in silence for a few minutes and she gets more sleepy, she can't keep herself from asking softly, "Hypothetically, could you take your helmet off around someone who has their eyes closed? Or who's blind?"

Din thinks for a second.

“I think so. I’m a little shaky on how that part of the code works. My parents taught me never to remove it unless I’ve got a reason,” he answers truthfully and earnestly, trying to be helpful.

Din laughs, “Now you’ve got me wondering,” he says with a smile, “Any particular reason why you’re asking?”

In her sleepy state, she almost admits the fact she's curious about the whole thing because the thought of kissing him has crossed her mind a few times before. But she bites her tongue before the words can escape her. She gives an unconvincing shrug and says, "Just wondering." instead.

Din isn’t stupid, he can see through that ‘just wondering’ a mile away.

He turns to look at her, raising an eyebrow under his helmet, “You can say what’s on your mind, ya know? I wouldn’t care if you were curious about that,” his tone is reassuring as he gives her permission to ask.

She pauses to consider the offer. But really, she's scared of what might happen if he rejects her, since she really enjoys the current relationship they have now, not matter how ambiguously it lies on the scale of platonic to romantic. She just gives another shrug, pretending she's too tired by now.

Din sighs internally. Just say it, you idiot. He thinks.

Instead of pushing for an answer, he decides to try a different tactic. He turns back forward and says in a casual, casual manner, “Do you know the Mandalorian way of flirting?”

He seems to have gone off on a tangent, as if it’s not an obvious lead-up, but he stares out the window of the Crest in the direction of the stars. “It’s called Jol’ey, you show your interest for someone by offering them your helmet.”

"Jol'ey?" She repeats the Mando'a term with a curious lilt in her tone. "How can you offer someone your helmet if you're not supposed to take it off though?" She can't help but ask.

Din chuckles, “Right, you caught me on that one, huh?” he says, looking at her again.

“I’m not sure how exactly the practice started, but the meaning of it is basically you’re offering them a part of you, of your most private self, not just physically but spiritually. You’re making an important and very personal gesture to show them you care about them, deeply.”

She can't help but smile as well as she considers the idea, "I think that's actually kinda cute." It's an expression of love, but in a more meaningful and symbolic way, she thinks.

“Yeah,” his face softens under the helmet, and his voice turns almost soft at the edges for a moment, “it’s a very personal thing to do, so it’s not something Mandalorian do casually. Like I said, there are rules, and it’s a pretty serious thing to do. But I’d argue that there’s no stronger way for Mandalorian to express affection for someone.”

She nods a little, not exactly sure how to respond to that verbally other than a yeah or an okay. She is starting to wonder.. why did he bring that up all of a sudden though? And it becomes obvious by her expression.

The meaning of what Din just told her seems to be setting in, and at the same time she has a question on her mind.

“Hypothetically, if I did offer you my helmet, would you accept?” Din’s voice is gentle as he asks her, “What do you think about that?”

She blinks a few times, letting the question settle for a moment. A beat of nerve racking silence passes between them and her expression morphs into shock at the implications he just explained to her.

"I think," she starts slowly with an ever softer voice than before, "..I would accept."

"Really?" Din asks, a smile creeping onto his face as he talks.

He sets the Crest on autopilot, turning his seat to face her.

In a whisper, and still speaking casually, he asks, "Would you want me to offer it to you?"

She's surprised as she sees him turn to her, and goes to do the same as red creeps up to her cheeks.

"Hypothetically," She continues with the term, though really it's more than just a 'hypothetical' and he knows that, "I would want that.. a lot." She almost whispers those last couple words.

Din laughs and says, "You can lose the hypotheticals now," he says playfully as he leans in.

"I'd be happy to give you my helmet." He says the words plainly, as if he's just stating a fact, "But...do you know what it means to be a Mando'ade partner? It's...not just about romance."

Her cheeks redden further when he leans in, but she nods at his question.

"Is it the kind of thing that would break the old order's Jedi Code?" She says with a little smile, meaning the kind of attachment that would be 'dangerous' but incredibly deep and meaningful.

“Yeah, Jedi’s have rules about attachment, but in Mandalorian culture, attachment is basically the whole point. Attachment to your family, your clan, you’re friends, the land and culture. Attachment isn’t just tolerated, it’s encouraged, and there’s no greater attachment than being a Mando’ade.”

He leans in closer and gives her one last choice, “You sure you want me to do that?”

Honestly, the very fact he's offering, makes it all the more touching. Her expression softens as she nods again.

"Sounds like you're proposing to me, Din." She says his name with gentle fondness, "Even so, I would say yes."

Din laughs. “Yeah, it is kinda like a marriage proposal in Mando culture. Except it’s more like a promise of complete devotion and care,” he says as he pulls his helmet off.

He gives her another quick smile, his face reddened a bit as he gives her his helmet, “I’ve never done this for anyone else, so consider this my way of showing you what you’re worth to me. You mean a lot to me, and I want you to know it.”

masterlist

#chara.ai blurb #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x you #shnargo writes

119 notes · View notes

shnargo · 2 years

Text

when you're having an onset panic attack [s.g. & m.s.]

a/n: this may not be completely accurate as it primarily is based on my own experiences and is written for my own comfort :) warnings: descriptions of a panic attack word count: 788

Steven was going off on another tangent about the shoddy handiwork of the gift shop merchandise

"Really, love, the Ra erasers look more like pigeons than a falcon. It's ridiculous-"

And while you heard the words, they didn't really register. The sound fell numbly on ears that were full of cotton and you hardly managed to nod ever so frequently to ward off suspicion.

It seemed to work as he led you through the busy streets of London, holding your hand to keep you close to him.

The day wasn't particularly windy, but your hair decided to fall all over your face, the sensation grating on your nerves more than usual. You felt a step behind your body and all you could focus on was your breathing.

Too quick, too shallow. Slow down and take in more air before you cry. Since when were you on the verge tears? You could've sworn you were fine just a second-

The rush of a car passing by made you freeze up, the only evidence that it was there in the first place was the breeze that mussed your hair further and the faint resonance of its engine rumbling in the distance.

That gave you away because your stopping caused you to tug Steven back a bit, especially as your grip tightened on his hand.

"Love? Is everything alright?"

The action hardly caused him to stumble, but when he turned around to look at you, his eyebrows knit together and his posture stiffened; the traits that gave away the fronting of Marc.

"What's wrong?"

He took a step closer, his head tilting down to align himself with your line of sight. You really tried to focus on him, but your eyes refused you and stared off into the distance blurrily instead.

"Deep breaths, we're almost home. We still need to figure out what we're gonna eat for dinner, remember? Can you try coming up with ideas for me?"

He gently squeezed your hand, reminding you to answer with another nod. He began walking again, but this time, he didn't let you leave his line of sight.

The rest of the commute was a blur, and you were standing in the middle of his flat, watching Marc hang up his coat and roll up his sleeves while you stood still, unable to bring yourself to move. But he came up to you, lightly tugging your jacket off and putting it away for you.

"Did you come up with something?"

There was only patience in his gaze although you knew how long your response took.

"We still have some pre-made stock and vegetables in the fridge."

Your gaze drifted along the small kitchen, seeing the half-sliced loaf of bread in its box. Words failed to keep cooperating with you so you pointed to it instead.

"Soup and bread sounds good. Can you wash the veggies for me?"

He led you to the fridge, and this time you were able to take the initiative by opening the door and taking out the bag of stale growing but still edible vegetables. You found your way to the sink, pushing up the handle and pulling out the vegetables as the water ran cold.

It was like watching outside of your body as your hands moved without your thinking, mindlessly rinsing and putting aside carrots, potatoes, miscellaneous. You noticed Marc taking out a pot as silently as he could to not disturb you. When he took the clean pile you'd created, he mumbled a soft thanks as he started chopping them into smaller pieces.

The rest of the cooking followed similarly. Marc gave you easy instructions of pouring in the stock or stirring the pot, while he handled the more dangerous aspects of using the knife and likewise.

The noises weren't intrusive, just soothing repetition of the water bubbling or the gentle clinking of the ladle against the metal of the pot. Soon enough the hearty scent of the soup filled the air, making it a little easier to breathe.

You felt a warm hand envelop yours, raising it to rougher lips that faintly pressed against your palm. The earthly browns of his eyes bore deep into your own, and the sight along made your heart tremble because it made you realize: he knew.

His thumb wiped away the wet streaks sliding down your cheek as he guided you close to him.

"It's okay, you're okay. You're alive and safe, and everything's gonna be alright."

Your lip trembled, but you let your head fall into his chest, finding it easier not to give into the thoughts that would normally run rampant in your skull.

"I'm not going anywhere."

With that, you were able to keep breathing steadily.

masterlist

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant fanfic #marc spector fanfic #moon knight x reader #bweep #shnargo writes #mcu reader insert #steven grant #marc spector #steven grant/reader #marc spector/reader #tw panic mention #tw panic attack

217 notes · View notes

shnargo · 2 years

Text

new look

pairings: bucky barnes x reader warnings: none word count: 277 a/n: just a thought after seeing a gif-set with bucky :) reader is implied to be shorter than bucky

"You know I liked the hobo look."

Bucky's gaze snap to yours, and his face hardens into that familiar stony, constipated gaze he makes when he's confused. You can almost hear the confused, Huh? before he says it, and you lean against your arm that's resting on the counter.

"I mean, you kept the stubble and all, but you removed the centerpiece of it all." With your other hand you gesture to his head, finally clueing him into what you mean. His fingers brush against the freshly buzzed sides instinctively.

"The long hair?" He clarifies, stony melting into mirth at your nod. "You're a little weirdo." He returns to scooping out batter from the bowl he's holding, dribbling it onto the pan in forming a steady circle. Walking over, you nudge his shoulder to make sure he doesn't pour too much.

"Yeah whatever, but you know, we were actually making progress with the hair treatment." A pout makes its way to your face, causing the edges of his own lips to turn down. But you meet his gaze when you feel cool metal lightly grasp your palm and lift it to the side of his head. It accomplishes his goal of making you smile as you rub the fuzzy texture.

"Well, I guess this ain't so bad either." Using the new leverage, you bring his face own to meet your lips, gaining you a smile from him as well.

"Now don't burn my pancakes, Barnes." He gives a mock salute, only to scramble for the spatula because of the excessive amount of bubbles forming in the cooking batter.

Yeah, you could get used to the new look.

masterlist

#bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #shnargo writes #mcu reader insert #soft hours 🥰#tbh i do prefer long-haired bucky but i love him either way

178 notes · View notes

shnargo · 2 years

Note

I saw your soulmate alphabet thing and I have to say I love every single thing about it!

I was thinking maybe a Marc / Steven x Reader with the prompt "nurse". Maybe Marc/Steven save the reader from a situation were they end up hurt?

Thank you!! ❤️

peace. [s.g. & m.s.]

pairings: steven grant x reader, marc spector x reader // reader is gender neutral & soulmates!! 🥺

summary: Though the first time meeting you was unconventional, Marc finds himself drawn to you. Despite his apprehension, and with some convincing from Steven, he allows himself a chance.

warnings: mild descriptions of injuries and implications of kidnapping in the beginning, otherwise, primarily fluff :) also set after the events of the moon knight show but there's very little spoilers.

word count: 3489

a/n: this took me way too long to write since it's been awhile since i've written anything frankly. and no problem, love!! i love the soulmate trope a lot too. 💕

when the other isn't fronting, they speak in italics.

n…urse (the touch of a soulmate can heal you from affliction and vice versa).

With hands that maimed and shed so much blood, Marc resigned himself to the fact that he'd never find peace. As long as he'd be Khonshu's avatar, he'd never escape the killings and despair it brought. And though it brought him some solace knowing those he was assigned to murder were only the worst of humanity, it didn't spare the fact that it was, in the end, murder.

Even now as he was on a mission, he knew the cold stares of the men bleeding out on the floor would be burned into his memory. Quite literally, as that room with all his victims had proved that more than anything. With a sigh, he put away his crescent blades, ready to go back home and let Steven front so he wouldn't have to ruminate on the fact.

Marc, did you hear that?

He paused, letting the hood and mask of his outfit fall away so that he could listen carefully.

Haggard breaths and stifled weeping.

Where on earth could that be coming from?

He followed the sound to the back of the van, unease already forming at the implications. Making sure the back was unlocked first, he went to open it which confirmed his suspicions.

The first thing he noticed were the bruises littered about your skin, and with the blindfold and restraints, you failed to recognize him beyond your captors as you went silent and near still save for your trembling. The sight did wonders to ease his guilt at least.

Bloody hell.. these were some awful people, Marc.

He grimaced in agreement, but as he’s about to call out to you, he hesitates. Steven might be better for this, he thinks. In the metal of the vehicle, he sees Steven shake his head.

Go on mate, the longer you take, the more she’ll fret now.

He sighs, “Hey.” You flinch, and he winces at the gruffness of his voice, so he tries again, gentler this time.

“I took care of the guys who hurt you. I’m gonna let you go now, okay?” Your breathing is still shallow, which concerns him, but he cuts away at your binds the moment you give him the go ahead.

His touch is light and way too gentle to be any way reminiscent of those who kidnapped you. You can’t help but laugh shakily, just relieved that it’s all over. He pauses at your reaction, and you can tell he’s confused.

“Sorry, I’m just- I’m so glad they’re finally gone now.” Your voice is hoarser than you expected, making you cringe. But you can’t bring yourself to focus on that when you find your wounds aren’t aching anymore. At last he takes off your blindfolds, it takes you a moment to adjust your eyes and you see him.

His brows are furrowed with careful concentration along with focused, piercing eyes that would’ve frightened you had you not know he was your savior. But with how intense his gaze was, he almost looked constipated. You stifle a laugh, which gains you more confusion from the man.

“S-Sorry! Sorry, it’s just that, you look so serious. Do I look that bad?” His expression relaxes a bit, and he lets out a soft huff. Yet when he glances at your bruises, he finds that they aren't as exacerbated as they were before. He wears that silly, serious expression again and you’re tempted to smooth out the wrinkle that forms in his brows.

Unfortunately, the impulse was immediately acted upon considering your lack of inhibitions from the whole ordeal. But you accomplish your goal when instead, his eyes widen and his expression relaxes under your hand.

He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand the fact that with a single brush of your fingertips against his face, he finds fullness in the silence, reprieve with every breath he takes, peace in the moment. He watches you move your hand away when you find yourself, and though you appear embarrassed, he finds himself more so when he realizes how much he misses the contact already.

“Sorry,” you utter again, “I wasn’t thinking and-” he grabs your hand again with urgency at first. Yet he remembers your condition, and his grasp becomes gentle. The action shocks the two of you, and while Marc is mortified he did that without thinking, he manages to recover from it quickly.

“You gotta stop apologizing, you know.” Enraptured, you find yourself just nodding along. But again you realize the utter lack of pain you should be feeling. Another glance, and you notice, your bruises are gone.

“Who are you?” You almost start to think this is some sort of dream. But the weight and warmth of his hand, even the details of the callouses upon his fingertips is just too real to ignore.

“Marc. Spector.” He clears his throat, “Marc Spector.” He says altogether. A smile forms on your face as you tell him your name in return.

“Marc..”

Steven, I’m not gonna hear it.

“But Marc-”

No, I already told you that this was how it’s gonna go.

They both knew you were something special. After Marc made sure you got home safely that night, the two of you shared contact information because there was a mutual understanding that there was something about the other neither of you could ignore.

But no matter how much Marc longed to see you again, he was afraid of what you could mean to them. He was resigned to denying himself this chance, so already it took a lot of convincing from Steven to allow even the alter to meet you.

“Alright, but you’re being a bit of a knob, you know that right?” He watched his reflection roll his eyes, so he frowned right on back as he adjusted the collar of his shirt. “I just don’t understand why you do this to yourself. It’s not like you’re the only one interested, not to mention, they seemed rather fancied too.” He mutters, trying to fix the stray curl that always managed to find its way back onto his forehead.

He didn’t miss the hesitation Marc had at that statement, but both parties were distracted by the knocking at the door.

To be honest, Steven was also quite taken to you after seeing you last. And opening the door to you dressed comfortably and looking at ease in your own skin already has him feeling something more. When you light up at the sight of him, he swears his heart flutters like nothing else before.

“Steven, right?” The sound of his name from your lips easily brings a smile to his face, and you can easily feel the difference between the two of them.

“Yes! Come on in, love. Apologies for such a late notice, I hope it didn’t trouble you much.” Though the endearment causes you to blush, you shake your head as you enter.

“No, not at all. I thought it as a good opportunity to meet you also.” You say as if it’s the most natural thing to do, getting acquainted with the other person of the same body. You were so understanding over the phone when he, or rather, Marc, broke the news to you about his disorder. Rather than respond with apprehension or even any sort of displeasure at the revelation, you were curious, excited even to get to know Steven as much as Marc. The thought comforts him really, and he can’t help but get his hopes up.

“Well, I’m quite fond of getting to know you too.” He pauses, before giving a cheeky little grin. “You know, Marc has spoken quite well of you since then.”

Steven…

But the man is pleased the mere statement has you flustered and tugging at your sleeves in a nervous habit. “Really? I wasn’t sure I made much of an impression.”

Even if he had met you on the street, he’s sure he wouldn’t have forgotten you. He has a feeling Marc shares the same sentiment.

“It’s not often someone can be as lighthearted after what you’ve been through. I only wish we could’ve met you in better circumstances.” He tuts, shaking his head, “But let’s not focus on that, I had a whole bit planned for us today if you’re up for it.” The thoughtfulness pulls a smile onto your face.

“I’d love to.”

. .

Steven was softer spoken, but that didn’t mean he didn’t talk any less. Honestly, you didn’t mind, considering how excited he’d get about his topics of interest. That paired alongside his cute, little accent basically had you hanging on his every word. It also helped that he took you to the museum, his discounted tickets made it all the more ideal to go to.

And he was such a darling about it too, always checking in on you to make sure you were enjoying yourself and overly fretting that maybe he was talking your ear off since he has a habit of speaking too much before he realizes it. You quickly shut down the thought by responding you were glad to have your very own, personal tour guide. To add on top of your statement, you made sure to ask a few extra questions just to encourage him to talk.

Marc was quiet throughout the whole endeavor. After everything that happened in Egypt, he knew it’d be difficult to fall back into their normal routine again. Yet watching Steven talk to you so carefree and at ease, he couldn’t help but be relieved for a moment. But nonetheless, this was more of a date than he’d like it to be. He only acquiesced because he warned Steven to keep the distance, but right off the bat the man did and said what he wished. Damn Steven for getting so confident after everything, no matter how much it made him proud. Even so, he didn’t force his way to fronting either because he didn’t know if he had the courage to deny you. So he was left to watch, more jealous than he’d ever admit.

“You mind if I ask a weird question?"” He blinked, not expecting it but quickly nodded to not allow you to shy away.

“I don’t mind at all, it’s just been me speaking this whole lot anyways.” He gives a quick laugh. “What is it, love?”

“How exactly do you talk to Marc? I mean, you are sharing the same body and everything.” That surprised him, and he glanced at the reflective plaque as if expecting Marc to respond. The man only shrugged, pretending not to care. “Sorry, was that too much of me?” He shook his head immediately.

“Of course not, you could never be.” He blurted, becoming embarrassed. “Er, what I mean is that it’s a perfectly reasonable question.” He scratched the back of his head, “It’s a little strange to admit, but he’s sorta my reflection.” He watches you look around to try finding the nearest reflective surface and he can’t help but laugh at how cute that is.

“Hey.” You mock frown, but you’re secretly pleased to see the twinkle of delight in his eyes as he looks at you. You wouldn’t mind if he looked at you like that everyday. “Can you see him now?”

Don’t tell her, Steven.

He nods, although curious, “Why do you ask?”

“I have something I want to tell him.” You reply without hesitation, still trying to keep an eye out for anywhere with reflections. You do notice a particularly shiny pillar, but you think it’s rather far to hold a conversation with. But then that makes you wonder, do they have to talk aloud to communicate? “I mean, that is, if he can hear me.”

“Yeah he can. You know he’s been off and grumpy in this plaque here for quite a while now. Think the lad’s jealous is what it is.” He taps on the piece of metal to further point it out.

Steven! What the hell do you think you’re doing? I told you that you weren’t supposed to mention me at-

“Hey Marc?” You’re looking straight at the plaque, and for a moment, Marc swears you can actually see him then and there. “Thank you. I don’t think I ever got the chance to tell you that night, but I’m really glad I got to meet you and Steven.” And then you smile, and though it should be impossible since he’s not fronting, the sight takes his breath away.

When you turn back to Steven, you see the fondest expression on his face that makes your face warm. He’s amazed by you is why he’s having such a goofy smile— the kind that stretches his lips and forms a little wrinkle on the edges of his cheeks. He remembers how you didn’t even question it when he told you Marc wasn’t going to see you today, only understanding that the man had his reasons.

Tell her I just did my job that night.

His eyes widen and he looks at the reflection. You looked curious, “Did he say something?” Even Marc is looking back at him with surprise as well.

I.. forget I said anything.

“Yes, actually.” He sees Marc’s lips downturn to a frown. “He’s glad to have met you as well. I am the same.” Your blush starts to become quite visible, pleasing him as it seems to cause Marc to be at a loss for words.

A sudden growl stuns the both of you, and he gets all bashful then. “Ah, that ruined the moment didn’t it? What a shame.” He laughs, lightly patting his stomach. “It seems I’m a bit peckish now, hm? Are you alright in finding some takeaway and ending the date at my flat?” He blinks when you look at him with a stunned look on your face. “S-Sorry! That was too forward of me wasn’t it?” Taking a deep breath, you feel emboldened to act up as well.

Reaching out, you carefully take his hand into yours, and give him a cheeky little grin. “Only if you’re alright with me doing the same.” Both his eyes and mouth are wide with shock, and he flounders for words which brings you to laugh. “Ah! I don’t mean to laugh, you just look so cute right now.”

It feels as if time slows down then. This man who you’ve barely known for a day and some already makes you feel such affection for him. With the way he looks at you, he makes it perfectly clear that he feels the same way. The deep browns of his eyes have you mesmerized, and you catch him glancing down to your lips for a split second. He slowly starts leaning in, and you’re just about to reach up to cup his face when something in his gaze flickers and he pauses.

“Let’s go get dinner then.” That American accent.

Marc ends up leading you out of the museum, but you make sure to take note that while he did pull back, he never did let go of your hand on the way out.

. . .

He didn’t say much after getting the food or even getting settled down in the flat. He did reply to any inquiries you made with soft noises of acknowledgement, but hardly went beyond a ‘yes’. It astonished you truly how different the two men were. As you watched him walk about his kitchen, the way he carried himself was more confident, with straighter posture while he shuffled about silently. You helped him set up the food, and he didn’t even question it beyond a curious glance as he handed you utensils and napkins. The whole scene felt too domestic, and you could barely hold back a smile at the thought.

“I had fun today.” He grunts with a nod. When he had first done so, you had taken it a little apprehensively, especially due to the sudden contrast from Steven. But with the crinkle in his brow that formed from concern, you knew that wasn’t his intention. You figured that he didn’t know how to respond, yet didn’t want to make you think he wasn’t listening. It was his way of showing he was indeed hearing you, and you found that sweet. You slowly open your box, blowing at the steam that puffed out. “I’m glad that I also get the chance to spend some time with you too.” You added on quietly as an afterthought.

He froze which was made pointedly clear as he fumbled with his own box that tapped against the table. Nervous, you realized. That’s why he was so quiet. He slowly nodded, and not to embarrass him further with the silence, you thanked him for the food and quickly dug in.

Which was a mistake because it was piping hot.

The table jolted as you flinched. Your tongue burned, and you barely were able to swallow down the bite much to your discomfort. Marc shot up in alarm, and made his way next to you in a couple of strides, and his hands rose to hover over you worriedly.

“Are you okay? What happened?” His voice was low, but it hardly hid how concerned he was. His eyes were scanning the food carefully as if it were an active threat, and you waved your hand to hopefully ward off his fears.

“H-Hot.” You scrunch your face at the pain that rushes through your mouth from speaking. He kneels to get closer to you, a hand reaching up to your face to cradle it and assess the damage. When you open your eyes, he’s barely inches away.

The crease in his brow was deepened, pressing down and shadowing his eyes and he was too preoccupied to notice the proximity. With his hand so close, you could feel the heat of him radiate off of it. You felt just as mesmerized when you first met him, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. It was only then that he noticed the position and felt his breath stutter.

But your own brows furrowed when you realized your tongue didn’t hurt at all. You gasped, immediately reactivating his protective mode, but you reached up to rest your hand on top of his. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” He blinks. “My tongue.” Further confusion and you laughed. “Sorry- er, I mean- Well, it’s not just that. I forgot to mention also that night, you made my bruises go away too.” There’s a spark of recognition and he nods. “How’d you do that?”

“I don’t know.” His gaze glances to where your bruises were, his gaze darkening from the memory. “It’s not something I can do.” Yet when you lightly brush your thumb over his knuckles, the tension is relieved from his face and he feels himself go still under your touch. “You affect me somehow too.” He says before he can think which makes him cringe. “I didn’t mean it like-” he sighs, “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“As if I could trust you with my whole life despite barely knowing you.” He stares at you, a little too long that makes you think you’ve said something wrong for a moment until he leans in closer.

“I didn’t mean to front today.” He pauses, looking away as he tries to find his words. “To be honest, I wanted to avoid you, but after seeing you talk with Steven, I..” he trails off, sighing as his eyes eventually find their way back to yours.

For a moment he looks small. Eyes filled with uncertainty, but even so, you manage to see a glimmer of hope. His voice gets somehow quieter as he barely murmurs, “Can I?” And you know he’s referring back to your statement. Your hand falls from his, causing his heart to start sinking. But then you lean in, touching your forehead against his as your hand ends up resting on his shoulder.

“I would trust you.” Your breath fans over his lips from the proximity, and his eyelids flutter to lay half-lidded.

Since he left the museum, Steven had been talking at him almost nonstop from the takeout to the flat, even as he got ready to eat with you. He wasn’t responding as he should, he wasn’t honest with himself, he stole you away from your lovely time with Steven. And Marc knew that, but you didn’t make a single complaint. You smiled at him. And every sweet word that fell from your lips, he knew in his heart you meant it. You were happy to be with him just as much as Steven.

The alter in question went completely silent as his lips made contact with yours. And while envious to some extent, he was also relieved. Marc had finally allowed himself some good; he had found his peace with you.

masterlist

#shnargo writes #bweep #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant/reader #marc spector/reader #mcu reader insert #steven grant fanfic #marc spector fanfic #moon knight x reader #tw kidnapping

159 notes · View notes

shnargo · 2 years

Note

Hi! Can I request either prompt e or k from the soulmate at prompt list for tasm!peter Parker! I think either one would be super cute for him!!! I love your writing by the way!! ❤️

Mixed Up

pairings: TASM!Peter Parker x [female! & soulmate!] reader

dynamic: ex-best friends to enemies to lovers :)

summary: Peter hasn't seen you in years that grew his resentment, but suddenly you turn up at a high-end party he attended only for a mission. Maybe you're not the same person he thought you were.

warnings: allusions to being an escort & mild description of injuries / violence. lightly beta-read so there might be mistakes :O

word count: 2270

a/n: thank you! although i do think i took a completely different route with this than you were expecting, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless. i also made the reader female to fit the story better, so i hope you don't mind :)

e...sp (soulmates can sense one another’s presence and feel each other’s exact emotions even when miles away).

The crowd was bustling with the rich and upper class folk alike, all in all stuffy people he’d rather not associate with were it not for the knowledge that Kingpin would be attending. After knocking out some entitled guy with similar tailor measurements— he’d be sparing the kid from ruining his father’s reputation which he considered good enough payment— he was easily able to blend into the crowd. The plan was mainly to scope the grounds, keep an ear out for any nefarious plots skulking about and handle it accordingly.

What he didn’t expect was for you to be hanging off the crime lord’s arm as eye-candy.

Peter didn’t meet you until after he got together with Gwen. You had come in 20 minutes late to science class and when the teacher confronted you with a tone that was extraordinarily condescending, you didn’t hesitate to bite back with a snarky answer yourself which landed you in detention. Once you took your seat beside him, he couldn’t keep an amused smile from the interaction to which you responded with a raised eyebrow and the query of ‘what the hell he was smiling like a dork for’. To say that you became fast friends would be an understatement— the truth of the matter was, he would’ve trusted you with his life despite knowing you for a little less than a year. After graduation, he swore to himself that he would tell you the truth about his alter-ego.

But then you disappeared. At least, until now.

Honestly, if he wasn’t so close to you before, he wouldn’t recognize you now. Gone was the outspoken, wildly expressive teenager he once knew, and there before him stood someone with practiced, careful movements paired with a demure expression that knew when to give a smile when needed. This is what you left him without a word for— a high life amongst two-faced people you had once swore you disdained. Maybe he didn’t know you after all, but that left something bitter in his chest once the initial shock had faded away. He forced the grimace off his face; he was here for work after all. So heading into the fray, Peter went to mingle with the others and get something substantial enough so he could leave shortly after.

You saw him across the room at the beginning of the evening. Peter Parker, your closest friend, confidant, something you were never able to have due to your background until it was viciously ripped away from you. But worst of all, he was your soulmate who was too close but too far as they say. You only wished you could’ve met him before Gwen did, but you had little time to ruminate on what ‘if’s.

The world never made living easy for you. Since you were a child, you were living in and out of homes due to parents with checkered histories of their own. It wasn’t until after high school that their debts caught up to you, and you were forced to get caught up in muddy deals and sketchy criminals at best. But damn it, if you weren’t anything but stubborn which is the main reason you stood where you were today. You learned, even if it meant sacrificing every piece of yourself to stay alive. Still, you never gave yourself up completely, since you only came to this party to work out intel to have Kingpin’s syndicate slowly but surely crumble from the inside out.

So you hung off the man’s arm, laughing to appease the masses, but your eyes kept careful track of your hazelnut haired friend. He shouldn’t be here, and you knew for a fact he noticed you when you felt that surge of resentment pass over you. You just hoped he felt the guilt in return.

When the music began to play, partners were switched off to encourage acquaintanceship and cordial terms before business ventures began. To your surprise, Peter walked up to you, extending his hand in an offer to dance. Never showing more than a quirk of your lips, you rested your hand onto his and followed his lead.

Not a word was said at first. The both of you merely matched the pace of others, but you could feel animosity swath over you with each step you took. His grip was too tight, his eyes were piercing, and he looked like he had too much to say. And to further his frustration, you didn’t seem to bat an eye.

“You shouldn’t be here. It’s dangerous.” You cut through the tension as the dance slowed, speaking softly by his ear. He shivered.

“So now she speaks.” You’re sure he felt the exasperation that ran through you as his lips pursed.

“And you should listen.” Leaning back, you looked into his eyes. “You should leave when you can, before it’s too late.”

“Before your great king decides that I’m not good company?” His narrowed eyes shot a glance at the man who was easily dwarfing his own partner. “I think I can handle myself fine.”

“You don’t know what he has planned-”

“Oh and of course you do? You sure had plans when you up and left without a single word. You didn’t even say goodbye.” Sadness pooled in your belly as it glimmered in his eyes for a split second but soon simmered to bitterness. “And you seem just fine without me so far, so why don’t we keep it that way?”

For the first time that night, he saw your expression falter. Your lip quivered with your downcast eyes, and as he heard your heartbeat pick up, he couldn’t ignore the very real heartache those words brought you.

But he felt it. And he’s never had that for anyone else other than Gwen.

“There you are, sweetheart. Was thinking you didn’t wanna dance with me.” A heavy hand touched the small of you back, and you held back the impulse repulsion that bubbled up. Instead you smiled, craning your neck up high to look at the man towering above you.

“Sorry dear, you know I don’t get out much.” Composed and controlled, you were yourself again. You didn’t fight as he led you away, easily falling into pace with him. But you were forced to a halt as the large man paused from the sound behind you.

A sudden “Wait!” was said from your ex-best friend, who with wide eyes, mirrored your shock at his own exclamation. He held your gaze nearly dumbfounded, but at Kingpin’s stare he found his words. “We, uh, didn’t finish our dance.”

The hand behind your back stilled, and you hoped the man beside you couldn’t feel the panicked beating of your heart for Peter’s sake. But a sardonic laugh resounded and you felt it shake the room. “Sorry boy, she’s mine tonight. But if you’re still so keen, you can book her another day.” Nausea was felt at the back of your throat, but you continued the path Kingpin determined as he walked on.

However, you still felt the stare of familiar eyes on the back of your head, as you disappeared into the crowd.

He should’ve listened to you.

Even if he was a hero, injuries didn’t hurt any less. Especially from endless goons with pipe bats, pistols, and small blades that consisted of his afterparty. Luckily, Kingpin hadn’t gotten ahold of his identity, but the man still caught wind that the spider-themed vigilante had infiltrated the event. Things were quickly shut down and you were quickly ushered away along with the rest of the guests. He just wished he could’ve had another chance to talk to you. Not even about his revelation, just to apologize for being such a jerk. That’s all he was after her death after all.

He felt blood bubbling up in his mouth as he sustained another hit due to fatigue. He was slowing down too much, but he didn’t have the stamina to run yet barely had the strength to keep fighting. Though to think ‘Spider-man: Career Ended By Mere Goonies’ being on the headlines irked him more than he liked so he kept as light as he could on his feet and threw more punches. There were only a dozen or so of them left, maybe he’d get lucky. But the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and as he turned, a smack to the side of his head rendered him on the floor and probably with a concussion.

He only blinked for a second he thinks, but the area around him has become littered with bodies and he sees a shadowed figure in the distance. Another blink and the scene has shifted to a small sidewalk indicated by the flickering street lights above that gives him a headache. And he swears he only rested his eyes for a minute, but now he’s in a bed with too many pillows that are propping him up. It takes him a moment to gather his senses to hear the sound of running water as his eyes adjust to the low-lighting of the bedroom, and he feels his mask is off.

His mask is off and he’s in a stranger’s house.

He jerks to a sitting position, but the spike of pain shooting through his body renders a string of curses as he falls back into the pillows. Again he barely registers a figure rushing over to him, with a small bucket and towel that are placed beside a box of medical aids he finds. It’s only when he looks back up that he realizes, that figure is you.

“I’d say, ‘I told you so.’ But I don’t think you can even hear me through that thick skull of yours.” With a dip, the towel is soaked easily, and after a quick squeegee, you lift it up and make contact with the gash on his cheek which he barely bothers to flinch at.

“How?” His voice is crackly and sounds like death and that causes him to flinch, but you don’t bat an eye, rather, giving an amused look.

“You aren’t the only one who learned how to fight.” The blood cleans off easier than he’d think, and you’re dabbing some antiseptic and bandaging it up with the kind of ease that tells him you’ve done this too many times before. “I get the whole hero thing includes being willing to die for your cause, but I don’t think rushing into a fight with the entire security of Kingpin’s building was justified.” With a sigh, you toss the cotton ball into the nearby bin. “May’s still alive, isn’t she? You have someone waiting for you at home, don’t go dying willy nilly like that.”

He knows he’s staring, but he blames the concussion for slowing him down. “I’m sorry.” He blurts, it’s also limiting his impulse behavior it seems. You’re wiping your hands off with the towel, and when he glances down, he sees that the whole suit is off and the rest of his wounds have been tended to. He’s not really allowed to dwell on that when you respond.

“For what exactly? If you need, I can list why you should be.” The towel is chucked into the bucket while you lean into the bedside. “But I’m sorry too, for leaving you like that. I was forced into working in this industry is why, and I didn’t want to risk letting you know through all these years. Knowing the identity of Spider-man is too valuable information to let these kinds of people find out.” He knows your explanation condones your leaving, but he feels your guilt that returns at the statement. It doesn’t make him feel any better about how he acted.

But you’re looking at him with sympathetic eyes that he knows you probably could have never afforded to risk showing until now. In that moment, you remind him of how you were all those years ago. His friend who was always extraordinarily understanding of how he felt and endlessly patient with his excuses— that you even knew were pathetic— but always dismissed with a sarcastic comment. And that there makes him realize that you knew all along, the truth of his connection to you.

“For saying all that shit.” The revelation sputters his mind to think, allowing him to finally piece his thoughts together to break the silence. The words feel heavy in his mouth, but he keeps trying to push them out anyways. “And for mixing up my spider sense with the soulmate tingle too.” All that pain he felt through the years he thought was his own. It was easy to have them all become so indistinguishable, especially given the grief he was faced with due to the many he failed to save. Oh, his eyes were getting all dewey too and staring at your shocked face, he comes to the realization that he just babbled all of that to you instead of just thinking it.

You scoot closer to him, eyes filled with a sorrow-tinged warmth that you freely express to him. Your hand lifts to gently run through his hair in a manner that feels too intimate and gives his tears the permission to start dripping down his face. As you lean in to lightly press your forehead against his, his arms lightly wrap around your waist to hold you close to him as if afraid you might leave again. At that moment he feels like he’s finally come home after a much too long trip. He feels relief. He feels comfort.

He feels only you.

masterlist

#shnargo writes #bweep #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter parker #andrew garfield spiderman #tasm!spiderman/reader #tasm!peter/reader #tasm!spiderman fanfic #spiderman x reader

82 notes · View notes

shnargo · 2 years

Text

pairings: eddie munson x reader warnings: none word count: 295 a/n: a small idea i thought was cute :) reader is implied to be female, but it's not outright stated.

"That's metal!"

You watched as your boyfriend went silent, the only possible indication of how he was feeling was the twitch of his lips, and the way he stared at you almost made you feel uncomfortable.

"What?"

Finally he broke with a snort that caused his face to scrunch up with mirth.

"Don't say it like that." Laughter shook his shoulders that made you try responding with a frown to prevent the oncoming grin at his delight, which ended up in a mixture of the two.

"What do you mean? I said it the same way you did!" You retorted, crossing your arms to further play your part in acting offended. He only shook his head, trying to quell his snickers to speak.

"No, you said it like, 'that's metal!'" his voice was badly high-pitched to try mimicking yours, paired with dainty hand movements to poke fun at the way you gesticulated often. You tried for a meaner pout, but it was truly hard to stay mad when his eyes held nothing but affection for you. The solution then was to turn away with a huff.

Grabby hands found their way to your arms, sliding down to gently grasp at your elbows to keep you from moving too far.

"No no, actually, you can say it like that all you want. Really." His thumb ran over the exposed skin of your forearm tenderly, and his hair tickled the back of your neck as he leaned in. "You're metal as hell." There was still humor in his voice, but it was honey-laden with fondness. That broke your lips into a smile, allowing your head to tilt back to rest against his.

"Now that's metal." You said back, and this time, you joined him in his snickering. -

masterlist

#shnargo writes #bweep #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson st4 #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson fanfic

53 notes · View notes

shnargo · 2 years

Note

I really like how you write Bucky 🥲😇🥺

thank you darling 💕 i love writing for bucky too :))

also friendly reminder that i am accepting requests please send things in i have no ideas and i am also taking this soulmate prompt list still too..

#i love you reply 🥰#shnargo speaks #shnargo answers #i have only been writing random ideas that have been popping up in my head #none of them involve writing out a full one shot 😔#well i do have one idea that might but i have no particular inspiration #it's a sequel to history with bucky and reader finding their way to romania..#domestic bliss and all that 🥰#but other than that #no ideas here head empty #i should also get to making an official navigation post to clarify my rules + characters too #idk man

0 notes

shnargo · 1 year

Text

rules, who i am, characters i do, galore!

currently obsessed with: joel miller, din djarin, john hancock (fo4), nick valentine.

howdy! call me shnargo (she/her) and i love fictional men. #shnargowrites is my works tag and that's about it :)

i don't have a regular posting schedule, but i does my best.

Rules:

I don't write smut, but I am fine with nsfw as for light gore, torture, and whump. (I usually don't write for yanderes, but depending on the prompt, I may be convinced haha.)

I take requests! There's no guarantee that I will write them (whether due to motivation or lack of inspiration from the request) however I will try my very best to!

"currently obsessed with" is often a good indicator for which characters i am most motivated to write for atm.

that's about it for now, but i will update it as things go along.

Characters I Write For:

Nick Valentine

John Hancock (Fallout 4 not the founding father lol)

Dieter Bravo

Din Djarin

Joel Miller

Ethan Winters

Karl Heisenberg

Eddie Munson

Steve Harrington

Steven Grant & Marc Spector

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

TASM! Peter Parker

again, i will update as things go along.

for examples of things i've written

that's all! have a lovely rest of your time here 👋🥰

#shnargo rules n stuffs

7 notes · View notes

shnargo · 2 years

Text

my hero.

pairings: steve x gn!reader (soulmates 🥰)

summary: It is known that you find your soulmate when they save you from a near-death experience. How then can Captain America know who his soulmate is?

warnings: none! mention of Injury & Harm but no detail whatsoever. ig spoilers for CATWS but that's been out awhile now.

word count: 852

a/n: I'm a sucker for soulmate aus :>

Also available on Ao3 !

The role of Captain America was to save people first and foremost. For a time it was to entertain, those were the dark years he thinks, but now he was a hero. Not just one told of the past, but also of the present, given New York. Missions with SHIELD were to soon follow after, and he was soon saving people at some level on a daily basis.

Which made it so difficult to find out who his soulmate was.

Given his reputation of getting people out of sticky situations, anyone could have been considered his soulmate. But he knew that it wasn’t the case. He never felt that connection, that fully certain realization that this was the person; this was the one. At least, that’s how books described it, movies, hell, even his own parents.

At this point, in this era, he didn’t bother to hold onto any hope. For even if his soulmate was out there somewhere, they’d probably be long dead by now. He was sure his sacrifice into the ice ensured that.

. .

Project Insight was destroyed. He thought the moment he came into consciousness. Though the latter is what confused him; he shouldn’t have been alive. A part of him began to hope as glimpses of his best friend flickered in his mind, Bucky’s hesitation to deliver the final blow had burned into his brain. He couldn’t remember what came next though, but he was sure he’d gotten through to the assassin otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

Humming, he realized, was somewhere off beside him. A melody that even he would have heard as a child. It was familiar already in that sense, but something beyond that drew him to his senses. Other noises of metal clinking and materials shuffling caught his attention, before he felt the presence lean over to dab something cold on the side of his face. He winced at the pressure, forcing his eyes to crack open.

You came into view, startled at first, but gave him a smile that would’ve sent a shiver down his spine. A nurse, he thought. He’d never seen you but…

“Do I know you?” He rasped, and winced again. If he sounded like death, how much more did it reflect on his appearance? Again your eyes widened in surprise, but you quickly focused to tend to the wound on his face.

“Not formally” Your voice pulled him further to consciousness and stirred something in his mind that he couldn’t quite remember what it was nor meant. You lightly dabbed his face a few more times before tossing the swab in a nearby bin. “Well, we technically haven’t even met.” You continued as you turned to grab another item from your tray.

His brows furrowed at that, creating an uncomfortable tension that forced him to relax. “But I know your voice.” Yet he doesn’t know where.

You paused then, looking back at him with eyes that held the same kind of curiosity bubbling up in his chest. “I- You do?” Then you looked down, trying to ponder something before you brought it to words. When you appeared resolute enough, you swiped some bandages off your tray as you went back to his side.

“I didn’t think you were conscious then, but I worked with the team that helped you… well, quite frankly, defrost.” Your hands hovered over his cheek, featherlight as if he were a glass figure just put back together. “I was tasked to monitor your vitals.” You made quick work of his injury, and he realized he was staring at the satisfied smile you gave at your handiwork.

When you turned, he caught the slightest glimpse of a blush. You noticed.

“I’m not sure if you know, but you were in a pretty critical condition then too. It took a long time to finally get you stabilized.” You reorganized the things on your tray, before finally taking off your gloves to also toss into the bin. “Make sure you take better care of yourself, alright?”

Something clicked in his head then. It was still dark in his mind, but he remembered. You had said something similar back then as well. Just as you were able to maneuver your cart away, he jerked forward a bit, “Wait-”

The alarm in your expression reminded him to lay back down, both that and the shock of pain that shot through his body. “Hey, hey! Don’t move! I just said you were in a critical condition!” You fussed, causing embarrassment to heat up his cheeks.

“Sorry, I just-” He met your eyes, “You saved me.” If he knew anything about expressions, he saw something click for you too.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it saving, Captain-”

“Steve.” He blurted, his cheeks getting warmer, but he cleared his throat and continued, “Call me Steve.”

When he heard you repeat his name, he knew for sure and he was certain you did too when you once more startled at the epiphany before you broke out into a grin.

And when he heard your name in turn, he knew it would be one he’d never forget.

#shnargo writes #bweep #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers/reader #captain america x reader #steven grant rogers #steve rogers #steve marvel #gender neutral reader #marvel reader #nurse reader #marvel reader insert #marvel fanfiction #mcu reader insert #steve rogers fanfic

86 notes · View notes

shnargo · 2 years

Note

can you please do j from the soulmate alphabet with Bucky or Steve, your choice <3

thank you for the request my friend! i always see a cheerful!reader with a grumpy bucky, so i'm flip the switch and go with steve for this one :)

pairings: steve x [gender-neutral; grumpy/straightfoward] reader (romance!!)

summary: You're just the tech guy, but when you're assigned with the Avengers on a mission, you find yourself getting caught up in the action.

warnings: mild violence, threatening of safety, a few swear words here and there, and mild slow burn ; )

word count: 2608

a/n: i spent some time editing/rewriting this, but i had a lot of fun! also really hoping there aren't any grammar errors cause that'd be embarrassing.

Also available on Ao3 :)

You weren’t meant to be assigned with the Avengers in the first place.

You’d been with SHIELD long before it fell and had garnered enough of Nick Fury’s trust, mainly due to your inaffable disposition as you never beat around the bush to save someone’s face. That honesty gained you more enemies than friends, but along with that reputation followed the understanding that you could get your work done.

Though you weren’t a jack of all trades in the looks, fighting, and hacking departments like Black Widow, you still made sure to be the master of one in your ability to work with technology. Not necessarily engineering-wise, but rather the manner of which you could handle copious amounts of information at the rates of a computer and the fact that you both knew how and could probably work an entire tech station by yourself while providing the intel and assistance when needed.

Which is why you landed yourself in the position where you were, in a helicarrier with Captain America himself with a couple other Avengers of wide renown. While most people would be ecstatic to be you right now, your indifference to the Avengers’ popularity gave you little joy to be in a team in general compared to the prospect of glorious alone time decoding the ancient Hydra files you helped Black Widow leak.

It didn’t help that they were just so loud either, so you resigned yourself in the corner of the vehicle, tapping away at your tablet to ensure all the most updated details of the mission were readily available. Though you couldn’t help but get distracted when you noticed the failed furtive glances sent your way by both Captain America and Black Widow as they muttered something you couldn’t care less about. You were just about to tune out of the world when you found your earbuds when the Man With a Plan began striding over to you, assuming his team leader stance.

“Have you gotten any updates on the status of the mission so far?” You could almost feel the exasperated look Widow gave at that opener. You decided to humor him.

“No, the target is still expected to arrive on time, about 8 people are dispatched around the location to ensure the success of the delivery, not including the body guards he’ll have on him for extra insurance.” You stated in a rather monotonous tone allowing you to watch as the initial enthusiasm he had coming into the conversation drain from his demeanor.

You continued, “Vehicles are readily available if they need to escape and traps are more than expected around the area which is why we’ll be landing a couple miles away so we don’t alert them. All of which you already know, and should anything come up, I’ll be sure to inform the whole team.”

You finally looked up at him, faintly surprised to find that his eye-color was not the perfect shade of blue the textbooks always read him out to be. Otherwise, he fit the description perfectly; tall, strong, conventionally attractive… Your eyes already fell back to your screen as you began to put your earbuds in. He scrambled out a small, “Thanks” as he left, getting the hint that you did not want to be bothered.

Other than again, the furtive glances, you were thankfully left alone for the rest of the flight.

. . .

To be certain, you were not a field agent.

That was more.. well, literally anyone else’s but your thing. Yet fate decided otherwise when the target managed to call for backup and they happened to notice the helicarrier. As expected, they chose to shoot it down.

You barely caught wind of the situation before you grabbed onto something for support as the first impact struck the ship, causing the whole thing to jolt which threw you off your feet as it began spiraling down to the ground. You scrambled to save your tablet and grab a weapon before again trying to anchor down before you could be thrown off the ship entirely.

So as any normal person would do, instead of fearing for your own safety, you decided to inform the others.

“Avengers, the target called for backup and they found the helicarrier. It’s going down and they’re coming your way.”

Some explosion went off in another part of the ship, rattling you to your core, but you managed to hang on this time. A buzz in your ear reminded you that someone was speaking through the comms.

“Hey, are you okay? Are you still on the carrier?” The voice sounded familiar, and through the incessant ringing from the explosion, it was Captain America’s.

“Yeah, I think s-” The final crash once again threw you off your feet.

. .

“No bleeding”, you faintly thought as your eyes opened. “Then again, it could be the adrenaline speaking for me” But when you were finally able to get ahold of your bearings, you were indeed fine and sound.

Despite the ship coming down, the internal structure managed to hold up well enough, at least to prevent any debris from crushing your body which you were more than thankful for.

When you tried to get up, you felt aches run all over your body and you knew for sure there’d be a hell of bruises the next day. You sighed, but took inventory. You still had the gun you found, and amazingly, your tablet was still intact, but the sting in your ear alerted you that your comms were down.

Though it was still sparking, it was a miracle that it didn’t take your right ear down with it. You checked your tablet then.

The screen flickered for a moment, growing unease to your stomach, but it managed to hum and boot up as red dots appeared over what seemed to be some formation of a compound. With that you knew where the Avengers were at least, though faintly noting that one seemed missing. But you knew that with larger compounds comes the fact that signals are more easily intercepted.

The crunching of metal underfoot caught your attention from the outside, reminding you to stay low and alert. You followed their pace, going to find yourself a better vantage point before they could find you. From the sounds of it, it seemed they only sent one to check on the remains of the crash. So you weren’t too worried when the guy finally decided to peek in and you shot him square in the face.

You looked back at the tablet and sent a signal to Iron Man to inform him the location of the backup that at least showed on your screen as well as your own to inform your living status. With that handled, you went about trying to catch up with the others. Though the helicarrier was stable for now, you didn’t trust it to stay that way.

. .

It was a shadier compound that you had imagined, and was way farther than you expected. You truly weren’t a field agent. By the time you got there you were panting and out of breath, so you decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a moment to catch it while leaning against a tree. To your dismay, that wasn’t the only thing that was caught. You heard the click of the gun before you even felt the cool metal press against your temple. Cursing under your breath for being so careless, you raised your hands in following your captor’s orders before promptly disarming to his demands.

"Didn't know the Avengers got a new recruit." He examined you to the point of uncomfortability, before promptly crushing your tablet under his boot. The action caused you to cringe.

“That’s a shame,” You said with more steadiness that you thought you could muster, “the data in that little thing there was more valuable than anything you could offer your boss.”

He scoffed, “I think the boss will be more than pleased to have an ally of the Avengers as a hostage. Besides, we can't have you alerting any of your superhero friends just yet now can we?"

He grasped your arm hard enough to bruise and forced you to follow him, but you noticed a glimpse of red, white, and blue amongst the trees. You complied for now, allowing him to lower his guard.

“Wait for your boss to be disappointed, because I’m not someone close to the Avengers. I’m just the tech guy.”

He sputtered, loosening his grip enough for you to quickly duck down at the sight of America's frisbee flying at you both. It easily hit and knocked out the man who slumped forward onto you, but not before a gunshot rang in your ears.

You opened your eyes to Stars and Stripes, his own eyes alarmed as he looked over you to survey the possible damage.

"Are you alright?" You did your own checking.

Arms and legs still intact, no view of red from your viewpoint, until you felt a sting on your cheek. You reached up, but he beat you to the punch as his hand lightly hovered over your cheek while his brows furrowed in concern.

"Just a graze. Hardly a bullet in my skull." At least you assumed, but found yourself consoling him before you could question it. He nodded, helping you shove the man's unconscious body off of you. You salvaged what you could, taking his gun and knife and finding yours on the forest floor as well.

"Has the target been captured yet?" You asked, shaking off any twigs that hung off your body before tossing him the extra gun. He seemed surprised, but caught it with a grateful look.

"Not yet, and from the looks of it, hostiles will be closing in on us soon. It’s best if we regroup with the others and work our way from there.” He picked up his shield from the ground, already leading the way.

Until you stopped him, lightly tugging his arm and he didn’t miss the way your brows furrowed at his plan.

“Since the others have already infiltrated the compound it’s better that we assist them here; fighting off the backup and giving them enough time to get to the target. Considering they needed backup, there shouldn’t be too many in the compound and I’m sure they can handle themselves as long as we stall for time.” He seemed reluctant at the idea, and you knew the reason when he glanced down at your singular pistol. You scoffed.

“I’ll strip any fallen guys for more weapons if I need. Besides, I’m not going to be the one they’ll focus on. ” You gestured to the obnoxious American shield, and he rolled his eyes but gave a hesitant nod.

“Alright, just.. stay safe.” His eyes met yours, earnest, uneased. He was the one that was missing on the map, you realized. He must’ve gone looking for you after your abruptly cut off message.

You gave him a smile to try to reassure him.

“Got it, Captain.” So you both went to assume your positions.

. .

It was all over for the extra troops by the time you got your hands on a sniper, but even before then the situation was surprisingly, perfectly under control. While Captain America was on the ground and confronting soldiers head on, you had his back literally by shooting down any goons that got too close to it. And this time, you made sure not to get caught in an unlucky position and held hostage again.

By the time he got the signal that the target was apprehended, more men were down than had gotten through, and he didn’t even have a scratch on him. You made your way over, watching as he took off his helmet to cool off but you noticed a glint of metal past his shoulder.

He jumped as he heard the bullet zip past his ear, barely turning in time to see a man collapse to the ground from the hit. You took one more look around the area to make sure there weren’t any more threats. “Guess we’re even then?” He smiled, the kind that made his eyes crinkle to show genuine delight. “We make a good team.” It was contagious as one spread across your face as well.

“I suppose we do, Rogers.” His eyes softened at the mention of his name, albeit his last. You heard the soft hum of a voice sounding through his comms, and he nodded to you when it went quiet.

“Tony says he has our location, so all we have to do is wait.” You made a sound of acknowledgement as you started to put away your gun. He seemed he had more to say by the manner of which he watched your action, but decided against it as he found his sweaty helmet more interesting.

“A date.” His eyes shot up to yours way too eagerly, you tilted your head and smirked in amusement. “That’s what you wanted to ask on the helicarrier, yes?”

You got a taste of the boyish charm of Steve Rogers when his cheeks reddened with a tinge of pink. He was a good leader, but rather shy when just a man. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, but nodded.

“If you’re free later tonight, after washing up we can get to know each other over some dinner. Does that sound good?”

“Good, yes. Great, actually.” You finally let out a laugh at that, but he seemed all the more pleased.

“See you then, Rogers.”

. . . .

He didn’t formally meet you until this mission, but he knew who you were before. When SHIELD was falling, Nat was able to contact you to be the inside man for the job and transport any intel you could gather that would help them. It was the easiest way for her to infiltrate the building and get access to as many Hydra files as she did. He knew your voice however, and found that he didn’t all mind your straightforward nature that many took offense to. Especially due to the fact of how much you helped them and wanted to bring Hydra down despite risking your own life.

When he finally saw your face, it didn’t take him all too long to associate it to the voice he met before. You seemed confident, though closed off, and he found himself appreciating you as a teammate all the more; although Nat did try encouraging more than that. But even now, he was never good with handling anything in the romantic aspect.

Yet when he fought alongside you then, he never felt more in sync with another person since, well, Bucky. It really made him want to consider more, but he couldn’t find the words for it. But you did. You read him so easily it almost scared him, but instead, it brought him at ease.

He always has to be the quiet one unless giving instructions, he is the leader and all. There’s no room for doubt when you have his position, so the fact that you could know his feelings without having even expressed them, it was one of the most relieving realizations he’s come to in a long time.

He felt seen.

Later that night he brought patches to help with the graze on your cheek in case you hadn’t fixed it up yet. You gave him a smile that made butterflies run wild inside of him.

He hoped this time he would finally find the words to express himself, but somehow he had a feeling that you would be able to understand him regardless.

#bweep #shnargo writes #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steven grant rogers #steve rogers #steve marvel #gender neutral reader #marvel reader insert #marvel fanfiction #mcu reader insert #steve rogers fanfic

28 notes · View notes

shnargo · 2 years

Text

brave smiles. [t.s.]

pairings: tony stark/pepper potts, tony stark & female!reader

summary: Tony Stark overworks himself, this is a given.

warnings: Canon divergence, mentions of character death, unrequited love, angst, not beta-read

word count: 1147

a/n: a little oneshot for tony, i'm falling for more and more marvel characters.

Also on Ao3 !

You fixed your hair again, trying to appear put together despite the early morning hours. Suppressing a yawn, you checked your phone again for the alert JARVIS sent you.

“Mr. Stark is still in his lab.”

As you went down the steps, taking them slow so as to not trip, you soon were able to hear Tony’s music, muffled, but still blasting from the other side of the glass. His workplace was a mess of metal and electronic parts, and by the way his movements were jerky and uncoordinated, you knew he was suffering from the lack of sleep.

“Jarvis? Could you turn down the music and open the doors?” You lightly tapped the glass, knowing you had access. “Right away, madam.”

Even his reaction time was slow as he paused a few seconds after you walked in; he gave a sigh, and continued his tinkering.

“Don’t say it. I’m fine, I’ve only been down here for a couple hours now.”

“You’ve been down here for approximately 72 hours, sir.” The AI corrected.

“Hey- I thought you were on my side.” He looked over at his monitors to give a withering stare, but quickly resumed his work. So you walked over and gently tapped the corner of the table. “Have you eaten anything? Or even taken a break at least, Tony?” He didn’t respond, but his hands slowed down, giving you the opportunity to lightly rest yours on top of his to lower them.

“How about that break then?” He was all but exuding reluctance, yet dropped the tool he was holding that clinked as it hit the table. You gave your bravest smile, as you led him out toward the stairs.

He took his seat by the island as you went to put together a PB&J and put some water to boil for some chamomile tea to pair along with it. It was no comfort Whopper, but it was a simple enough treat and he never complained about it. When you finally made the tea, he was quiet enough to think he had fallen asleep, but you knew that never was the case.

His stare was somewhere else entirely, and in the moonlit hours of the night like these, you could only see the man that was behind the iron mask; his thoughts were plaguing him, and he held too much of a burden on his shoulders. You put out his late night meal in front of him, and he barely seemed to notice you as he started to eat.

It’d been a little less than a year now since New York, since the Mandarin, since… her death. You knew Ms. Potts yourself, she was a capable, hard-working, and sometimes intimidating woman, but you were all the more eager to work under her as her shadow. She always fondly called you her right hand woman, and it only was natural for you to take up her responsibility in looking after Tony. He shared little of what happened to her, but you found out through Rhodey that whatever serum she had been injected with led to her fiery demise; however, not without taking down the man who made her suffer. Even in death, you only grew to respect her more than ever.

Though her passing wasn’t the only reason you cared for Tony so much.

Even back then, you were always fond of him. Getting to work alongside Pepper allowed you to catch a glimpse of the true nature of the billionaire, philanthropist playboy, and you quickly fell for the man with a little piece of metal for a heart— not that it stopped him from having way too much humanity, i.e. his philanthropist nature. But you admired his metaphorical heart; the way he kept working far harder than any normal person could because he wanted so desperately to protect the world— a responsibility no one man should have. It wasn’t your place to foster these feelings, not when he and Pepper were happy together, so you convinced yourself to just be glad with being on the sidelines.

And now? It just wouldn’t be right. You could never replace Pepper, be what she was to him, all you could do was to help him to survive. It was the least you could do for the both of them.

He was laying against the counter on his arm. It seemed like the exhaustion finally crept up to him, and though you didn’t want to disturb him, you knew he’d appreciate not waking up stiff and aching. You lightly rested a hand on his back, gently urging to get his attention.

“Tony? Let’s get you over to the bed, alright?” His eyes half-opened as he fussed.

“But it’s comfortable enough here, Peps..” You stiffened.

“I— ...I know, but I’m sure your back would appreciate getting a good night’s sleep on properly.” It was dark, and he was exhausted half to death. You felt apprehension build up in the back of your throat in going along with it, but you also knew that trying to argue with him about it wouldn’t help either.

With a drawn out sigh, he gave a small nod and slowly tried to lift up his head. You offered support where he needed it, taking his arm over your shoulder to bear the bulk of his weight, and the two of you slowly made your way over to his room.

But the journey felt painfully drawn out. His head rested in the crook of your neck, and you felt the warmth of his body radiate off of him. He was so close, but…

“I missed you, Pepper.” all the more farther than ever. You grit your teeth and bore it, because really, what else could you do? He needed Pepper right now, not you.

Luckily he settled into bed quickly enough. As you pulled the covers over him, he lightly grabbed your arm. Not forceful, rather, pleading.

“Don’t leave me alone.” His eyes were glazed with fatigue, but even then you felt the weight of his words and how small they sounded as they left his lips. You forced another brave smile, and you couldn’t stop yourself from fixing his hair and gently outlining his face tenderly.

“I’m right here. I need to put away those dishes just for a moment, Tony. I’ll be right back, I promise.” Your heart broke as he leaned into your hand, knowing his hesitancy, but he let go of your arm with a slow nod.

The few dishes were put away in the washer as it ran quietly enough. You followed through on your promise, peeking into his room, and in the dark you knew he was fast asleep by now. When you closed the door shut, your smile fell along with held back tears, and in that moment you weren’t brave. You were weaker than ever before.

#tony stark #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark/pepper pots #tony stark & reader #female!reader #2nd POV #marvel fanfiction #marvel reader insert #mcu reader insert #tony stark angst #unrequited love #shnargo writes

40 notes · View notes

shnargo · 3 years

Text

history. [b.b]

pairings: bucky x [gender neutral; doctor w healing powers] reader (Romance here we come)

summary: Trapped in your roles within Hydra, you discover that the Winter Soldier isn’t just a weapon.

warnings: Descriptions of violence and partial gore (i.e. limb loss and blood) ; Use of Google Translate for the Russian parts heehoo ; A bit of Angst, but with a hopeful ending :)

word count: 2357

a/n: something i’ve been throwing around in my head for awhile to make it work! this is a precursor to main idea/story that i have in the works so feel free to stick around when i finish it! Also available on Ao3 !

For being Hydra’s Fist, he looked so.. human.

The man across from you sat on the operating table was covered in cuts and bruises, but held the same emotionless expression that you maintained. Three guards were stationed in the small medical room you all were in, two at the door where you stood and one by his side. The one nearest behind you nudged you forward.

“Отправляйся, Маленький Доктор, с этого момента ты будешь отвечать за его благополучие. (Go, Little Doctor, from now on you will be responsible for his well-being.)”

Giving a terse nod, you walked up to him and at the close proximity you were able to better see the color of his eyes. A smoky blue reminiscent of a stormy ocean. As you positioned your hands lightly over his wounds, a yellow glow emanated as his injuries began to disappear and you felt him relax ever so slightly. Your curse, which had once been a blessing, now kept you captive in Hydra.

Though as you met his eyes and shared a look of understanding and gratitude, for the first time in a while, you found the smallest purchase of relief.

The first time he ever spoke to you was after a rough mission. It was one of those few times you truly realized that just like any human, he could actually die. The healing had taken a lot out of you, and though you felt like fainting, you managed to pick up the bloodied rags and toss them into a bin. When you were finally able to wash the blood stains off your arms, you felt like you were able to breathe again. But it wasn’t your own exhale you heard, rather, the quiet rasp that came from the table.

Your head whipped around to see his eyelids slowly open, and his head loll to the side to meet your eyes with his own grey-blue ones.

“Маленький Доктор. (Little Doctor.)” His voice was soft from lack of use, but having never heard it before, you couldn’t have imagined it sounding any other way.

“Солдат. . . Ты жив. (Soldat. . . You’re alive.)” His eyes darkened a bit from disappointment, you shared a sympathetic look and went to get him some water. It brought you some guilt, but you were glad he hadn't died to leave you alone again.

. .

The routine was mostly simple. Other than a few near-death scares, the Winter Soldier would come back from a mission, report to you to be fixed up, and be taken away to who knows where. It came to the point that they rarely left guards in the room with you two anymore. Mostly because it was cramped inside, and the hall outside was filled with them so you wouldn’t be able to escape anyways.

When he came into your room, you always prepared your tools as he sat onto the table and asked, “Отчет о состоянии. (Status report.)” And he’d always answered with that quieter voice you’d slowly gotten accustomed to. Otherwise, neither of you spoke because of the camera positioned in the room to ensure that you didn’t try to escape. But you both learned how to work with each other as the routine became habit, as he’d automatically shift to allow you to reach any injuries he had acquired during missions.

He was the only person you felt you could breathe comfortably around, but you knew nothing about him other than rumors that he used to be an American soldier in the war. A lifetime ago, you think that you had once lived there too. Maybe you had gotten involved in the war yourself, but Hydra made everything blurry. The cryogenics hadn’t helped either, and you were left with nothing of a past like he was.

Mindlessly, you tapped your fingers against the sink as the bucket filled up with water to clean off the blood. The reciprocal tapping on the table behind you made you pause. You think to decode the Morse, in English, you faintly remember.

“Do you remember anything?”

“No.” was his answer, “Do you?” Turning off the faucet, you brought the bucket with a rag over to him. As you soaked it, you lightly tapped on the table back.

“No.”

Communicating like this was dangerous, but the camera couldn’t pick up those slight movements, and the tapping was too quiet to be heard outside the room. Logically, you knew it should be safe, but your real reason was that you wanted to talk to your quiet patient, to risk knowing more about him. And luckily, he shared the feeling.

. . .

Time passed. It was hard to tell with your office being underground and all. But you knew things were changing, the shifts in the air, the whispers among the agents, and soon enough the change in location.

The sun was much brighter than you remembered. Almost unbearable, but you missed it. It was the few familiar things from a life you had hardly gotten the chance to have.

His slow exhale brought you out of your thoughts. He was always at his calmest when coming out of cryogenics. The entire "defrosting" process involved ensuring his vitals were healthy and prepared for the next mission. And from the whispers you managed to catch, this one seemed like it was going to be a longer one.

"Where are we?"

“Someplace in America.” The small glimpses of the city provided sparks of familiarity, but never enough to jumpstart your memory of ever living in the country. Your hands lingered a second more than they should have, he met your eyes. You exhaled softly.

“Good luck.” his head lowered slightly in assent, though you both knew what you really meant was, Come back alive.

. . . .

And he did, though what frightened you the most was that…

He had failed the mission.

They had sent you on the helicopter to pick him up, saying it was to immediately patch up any wounds he must’ve sustained during the mission.

You knew the real reason was for blackmail. They had found out. At least, to some extent.

He gazed listlessly into the distance as you tended to his wounds, and as you stared into those eyes of his, you knew that he wasn’t the same soldat you had met all those years ago.

“Do you remember?” He finally looked at you.

“Yes.” You saw the fear he showed so plainly, along with uncertainty, and most importantly, life.

A life you had to save, for what other purpose would there be to a healer?

The grip you had on the needle in your hand shifted, it was a sedative for the Soldat if he had not come along willingly, but now it became a chance to set him free.

You took one last glance into his smokey blue eyes, the familiarity granting you the courage you needed, as you gave him the smallest smile.

“Hang on.”

The chopping blades of the helicopter made it difficult for the pilot to hear you make your way over. By the time they’d caught you in their peripherals, you had long stabbed his neck and injected the sedative.

As they slumped over, you scrambled to grab the wheel, but the piercing red blink followed by that dreadful beeping tone caught your immediate attention.

Someone grabbed your arm to pull you out the side, but the impact of the helicopter exploding ripped you from his grip and sent you hurtling to the ground below.

What you opened your eyes to was an upside down world, the blast had left a shrill ringing in your ears. A sharp pain soon ran up your body, as you registered warm droplets of red hitting your face.

It was your leg. Skewered through by a tree branch, and was the only thing that kept you hanging in the air. You tried to grab the closest branch to you, but the attempt left your body swinging and caused another surge of pain to run up your leg. It drained you of the last bits of strength you had left, and resigned you to be some sick ornament hanging in the middle of the woods.

A sob caught in your throat, as you desperately pushed it down to prevent your body from moving and paining you any further.

Trying to escape had given you hope, despite your best efforts to avoid it. You could never escape Hydra, but some part of you desperately hoped for a future. With him.

Through your tears you saw his dark and blurred silhouette come towards you. When his hands attempted to free you from your position, your scream of pain forced him to halt.

"Leave me." Your voice, hoarse and trembled as if it would make any more movement and cause you more pain. He adamantly shook his head, trying to assess the situation and come up with another solution.

"I can't." The branch, though jutting out of your thigh, was too risky to break. Not that doing so would help you much either, your leg was too far gone by now. He was left at odds of not knowing what to do.

"There's no time-"

"Маленький Доктор... (Little Doctor...)" His voice sounded terrified and almost as desperate as you were. You tried to blink away your tears and look at him, but hanging upside down this far had your vision darkening in the corners. "Don't make me leave you." His hands hovered close, but never nearer to prevent you from any more pain. They were shaking.

You restrained another sob.

"Cut it off then." You were able to see the whites of his eyes as they widened, and despite your disorientation you did your best to give him a firm look. And he nodded.

Seconds seemed like hours as he freed you, and through the bleary pain you were sure your screams reached up to the heavens. He caught you securely in his arms when the limb finally was cut free, and worked quickly to create a tourniquet to staunch the blood staining the black of his outfit.

You must’ve passed out for a moment as the cool of his metal hand touched your cheek and brought you back. The wind whipped about your body, and you looked up to see the Soldat who was holding you in his arms.

“Stay with me, we’re almost there.” His voice, still strained with fear, managed to come across to you as encouraging. You leaned more into the coolness, and as your gazes met he felt the growing desire to save you deepen further.

. . . . .

It was a miracle he found the little wooden shack in the middle of the woods. It was horribly broken down and aged, but thankfully, abandoned. He figured it would provide enough of a shelter for now, and a place for you to rest.

Speaking of which, you should have been dead by now. You had lost more than the amount of blood some of his victims in the past had, yet you still hung on, if but by a thread. He figured the faint yellow glow that flickered about your amputated thigh had something to do with it. Though he knew how much using your power exhausted you, he wouldn’t complain if it were the reason you remained breathing in his arms now.

When he saw your eyes flutter to a close in that moment he truly thought he’d lost you. In all his years of Hydra, even now as he was running for his life, he had never felt so utterly terrified as if he were just a child again. Not that he’d remember then anyways, but you made him feel like he could.

You were the respite of air in the otherwise suffocating prison he was held in, if he lost you now, he wouldn’t have anything left. He would only be a broken man, barely escaping from his identity as the Winter Soldier, while lost from a past he couldn’t understand nor was given any time to.

Your ragged breathing snapped back his attention. You lay on a poor excuse of a cot made from whatever scraps of cloth he managed to scramble from the ruins of the cabin, but he hoped it was enough to offer you some semblance of rest. He reached down to gently fix your hair out of your face, and you leaned into his hand again which caused his heart to beat faster in a way he didn’t understand either.

“Soldat..” He shook his head and confused you, but he knew he didn’t want to be called that anymore. With hesitation, he managed to get out, “It was Bucky.” The name was for the most part foreign to him, but it felt right in some odd manner.

And when you said it again yourself with the soft smile that graced your lips, he knew it to be true.

“We did it right? This is real, we’re..” You trailed off in a way that concerned him further, but your eyes remained steadfast onto his. “Free.”

As he sighed, a touch of tension rolled off his shoulders, mainly because your presence allowed him to.

“Who knows how long we’ll have to run. And what we’ve lost in the process..” He couldn’t keep his eyes from glancing at where your right leg should have been. They darted back to yours when he felt your hand rest on top of his.

“I don’t care if it’s for the rest of our lives. We made it.” Your thumb ran over his knuckles, as your smile deepened. “I think that is all that I could have ever wanted.”

He couldn’t help but stare, even as damaged and hurt as you were, the look on your face as you laid beside him was nothing short of peace and genuine joy.

“Bucky.” Even now he knew he would never be able to get over the way you said his name. “Let’s live now, okay?”

He gave your hand the tenderest squeeze, and gifted you his first of what you hoped would be many future smiles.

“Together. I could only live if you’re there with me.”

#bweep #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes #bucky marvel #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes x you #gender neutral reader #marvel reader insert #marvel fanfiction #bucky fanfic #mcu reader insert #bucky angst #shnargo writes

43 notes · View notes

shnargo · 3 years

Text

dogtags [b.b.]

pairings: bucky x [gender neutral] reader (More implied that it’s romantic, but can also be taken as platonic!)

summary: In which those nickel-copper identifiers become a permanent accessory.

warnings: none! just floof!

word count: 697

a/n: Based in the setting of TFATWS, however there are basically no spoilers for the show if you still haven’t watched it. Also available on (my old) Ao3 ! (My new one is shnargo, but I haven’t posted anything yet :)) & if you’re interested, here’s some more cover art ! (On again, my old account lol)

You remembered when he first got them back.

The two of you were returning from an impromptu shopping trip in order to get some basic necessities to help Bucky move in, and at his doorstep was the cardboard box containing what was left of his past life.

He made his way into the apartment to set down the shopping bags first before returning to grab the box. But he took a moment to just stare at the little white paper taped on the top that had his full name and previous title on it.

“Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.”

Giving him a light pat on the shoulder, you slipped past him to set down the remaining bags and start unloading them.

. .

You remembered the two of you sat beside each other on his apartment’s wooden floors while staring at the now moved box. He tapped a pair of scissors against his knee, while contemplating on opening it. In the end, he gave them to you so you could cut the tape and pull back the flaps.

It was hardly half-full, the bottom of it was padded with his old uniform, as miscellaneous old photographs and memorabilia lay scattered on top of it. This time you let him do the honors of first taking the various items out, as recollection flashed over his eyes.

He remembered his staring before clearing his throat.

“All these look the same. Like, it was just yesterday I wore these.” he held up the uniform that unfolded from the gravity, simultaneously dropping a silver-colored object that clinked as it hit the floor.

The two of you stared again but now at the new offending object. He slowly set his uniform back into the box then gingerly picked up the object by its chain. The tags clicked as they slid against each other. You had to tilt your head to the side to read the engraved words.

“Barnes, James B. 32557038”

He slid it onto his neck, and you could visibly see some tension leave his shoulders. Smiling to yourself, you looked back into the box and picked up one of the photographs.

“Could you tell me what’s going on in this one?” he looked back at you, glancing over the photo. It was a faded black and white picture of him decked out in his uniform with its fitting cap.

“I think that’s when we went to the Expo, uh, Steve and I.” the name was hardly spoken between the two of you, but for the first time since then, he continued on as if it was nothing.

. . .

You don’t remember when he picked up that habit though. But you got used to repetitive action. The way he would pinch the chain between his real fingers and run his thumb over the bumps of the letters. He’d never notice, but he would stare off again as he did so and would look at peace with himself and the world in that moment.

It was soothing, for both the two of you.

The soft clinking of the tags signaled to you that he was doing it again. A smile found its way to your face but you focused on preparing some sandwiches and snacks for later.

“What was your serial number again, Buck?”

“Thirty Two, Five Five, Seven ‘O Three Eight.” you could already visualize him smirk behind you, proud that he memorized it.

“Seven ‘O Four Eight.” you falsely corrected, looking behind yourself to see him to panic slightly as he stared down at his tags.

“I’m teasing! I’m teasing,” laughing, you gently pat his shoulder to emphasize the word. “You got it memorized to the last digit, don’t worry.”

He sighed in relief, but gave you a playful frown, “I would if you stopped doing that.” while he lightly flicked your forehead to emphasize his own word.

“Okay, okay, maybe one of these days.” as you went back to finish packing up the sandwiches, you heard him huff behind you.

“Now come on, we don’t wanna be late for your first therapy session.” The two of you made your way out the door, and you heard his dog tags clink together once again.

#bweep #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky marvel #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fluff #gender neutral reader #marvel reader insert #marvel fanfiction #bucky fanfic #mcu reader insert #bucky x reader #shnargo writes

45 notes · View notes