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anika-ann · 8 months ago

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The (Un)Expected - S.R.

Type: one-shot, soulmate AU, good ol' meet-cute (soulmates meeting for the first time prompt)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 8k

Summary:

A soulmark shows the first words your soulmate will speak to you. A soulmark tells you there is the person for you out there. A soulmark tells you what to expect.

For that, Steve’s is a source of comfort and anxiety to him. You always had a complicated relationship with yours.

But maybe they will teach you a lesson in the end – that the only thing one should really expect, is the unexpected.

Warnings: brief angst, mention of cancer (not reader), canon-typical violence, mention of death (no major character), blood and injuries, language, FLUFF so take it easy on sugar before reading

A/N: written for the Community Revival Extravaganza hosted by the wonderful @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420 . Thank you both so much for hosting and stirring life in the fandom! I loved seeing the traffic and positivity on my dash - you're doing god's work 💕

A/N 2: DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; enjoy y'all 🥰

Steve Rogers was a sickly child.

He spent too much time to his liking in his bed – and even more time outside of it despite feeling sick for he couldn’t bear resting anymore, craving to explore the world instead – and was sneaked into a doctor’s office by his mother quite often as well. She only got him in as a favour, courtesy of her own good name – a nurse working double shifts and lending a helping hand wherever she could, a single mother working herself to a bone to take care of and set example to her only son.

A single mother, a nurse, a good person – a beautiful soul. She left this world too soon, but she left an imprint on Steve’s heart larger than any other person, perhaps besides Bucky, ever could.

All that told him, even as indirectly, that his soulmate would be one special dame. She would be kind, she would be brilliant and for that alone, he knew she would be beautiful.

Steve knew that as soon as he could read, as soon as he could decipher the words on his skinny forearm.

In a world where first words your soulmate would tell you were laced into your skin for you and your soulmate’s eyes to see only, his words told him his soulmate was a little miracle.

'I’m not a doctor yet.'

Steve had spent a fair amount of time around nurses and doctors to know that all nurses were women and the overwhelming majority of doctors were men – by the time he was ten, barely a few women were allowed to attend medical schools, let alone graduate. But you, you would be on your way to reach that. Brilliant. Driven. Desiring to help people, to heal.

It was only when other children, other guys and girls alike, began laughing at him for being too little, too weak, too bony, when his heart began to ache for a different reason than illness. If you were to be all these amazing things he had dreamed of, what were you to do with a sickly fella like him? With your words to him being these, it was a fair assumption to make that you would meet due to his health issues, perhaps a smart dame taken under a more experienced doctor’s wing during your studies. How disappointed you would be when your soulmate, the one person meant for you and chosen by destiny itself, would be… that?

That upsetting idea haunted him, hurting more than the bruises that had formed under fists of bullies Steve kept trying to save those even weaker than him from, more than stick and stones and words alike.

Then again… there was a little silver of hope in his heart, a little shy voice in his head. If you were to be his true love, then certainly you’d accept him, yes? If he tried, if he tried hard enough to be a good man, the best possible version of himself, if he worked hard to protect and feed his future family, set a good example for your future children as his mother had, worked towards making a better world, you’d accept him? If he could live with not being as great as others but never stopped trying, you would respect him and perhaps even loved him for what he was?

Then, of course, war came and those thoughts were pushed aside.

Then, he grabbed at his chance to fight that war, to do his part, to help – and incidentally, he also earned his chance to literally grow. Healthy. Strong. More worthy; but remaining good, because that was the one part of him he wanted to hold on to no matter what, that one part he would wish his love, wherever she was, would love him for, even if he suddenly shrank back into the back of skin and bones he used to be.

Then, he lost his best friend Turned into a failure.

And then… then he died.

One of his last thoughts were of you, a beautiful woman with vague appearance but strikingly kind heart and sharp mind. He prayed you’d get a new soulmate somehow, even as those cases weren’t heard of. He prayed you’d live a happy healthy life without him, at least as good as he would have tried his best to give you, to build with you, even as his own heart was breaking to pieces, regret veiling his body as water and snow and icy wind would, regret for missing his chance to meet the most special person in his world.

When he closed his eyes and still saw the white of ice and the blue of the deep sea, he’d swear he saw your face, crystal clear, for the first time – and the last time – in his life.

Seeing you, a stunning mirage, his last thought was that you were an angel gently leading him into afterlife.

When he woke up to a new millennium, one of the first things he did was checking his forearm; he words still sat there, taunting, mocking and heartbreaking, another screaming reminder of him not belonging here.

As years passed by, the sense of alienation subdued. Steve Rogers learned to belong, even as a piece of his heart was missing, longing for the past life – and the life he had never got to have – always humming in his chest quietly.

The mark on his forearm remained, a sad memento to a soulmate he had never met, turning him into a martyr.

But many people had rejected the idea of soulmates in this time, rebelling against their so-called fate, taking off on a path of searching love on their own. Steve learned they did so for various reasons – a sense of adventure before they’d truly find their one true love, a quest to choose the fortune and love on their own terms, a fuck-you to the universe when their soulmate turned out to be less than they imagined and hoped.

His own reasons, as he reluctantly started to look for a person to share his life with, were rather unique, but no one looked at him through their fingers for that. If anything, those who cared about him encouraged him, wishing for his happiness.

It was only when he got Bucky back – one of his greatest regrets not erased, not lessened since Bucky had endured unimaginable pain, but transformed, a piece of Steve’s past brought back to life – that he began to wonder about the almost blasphemous thought he had forbid himself from entertaining when he had been first brought back to life from ice.

Were you still there somewhere?

And then, a shier thought:

Is there still a chance for me to find my true soulmate?

And then, the shiest one of them all:

Is there a chance for me to find happiness with you?

When he had thought of that before, he was certain that since you were still alive – he had read reports of people claiming their soulmark changed colours if their loved one died – he had thought of you as an old lady who had hopefully lived her life as he had genuinely wished for her.

But what if fate, that little minx who had taken his best friend for life from him only to give him back, had somehow blessed Steve with a soulmark decades before you were even born? What he hadn’t lost his chance, what if you were still young enough to build a life with him? Was that even possible? There were aliens, flying suits of armour, other realms, downright magical weapons… he had been given a second chance at life. There were things happening Steve would have never thought possible before. So was there a chance…?

The idea of you being a doctor became much more plausible too – in this century, female doctors were a much more common occurrence. That, naturally, did not diminish your brilliance whatsoever, the fundamental idea of who you’d be never changing in Steve’s mind. The image only became less surreal in one way and a whole lot more surreal in another.

For his own sake, he didn’t give in into that hope fully; at least he told himself that despite lying awake at night, a ghost of a woman he had never met lying next to him, radiating non-existent warmth he wished with his whole being he could touch.

He wasn’t chasing after the ghost, didn’t allow himself that – there was no way to do so to his knowledge anyway – for the chances of success were rather slim.

But there was always hope, wasn’t there?

And the longing for love, whether it was in the hands of fate or in his own to find it, remained, built into his very body; etched into his bones, flowing through his veins, laced into his skin beyond the words on his forearm, always humming quietly in his heart.

In the age of information and science, the concept of having your ideal partner for life chosen by some mysterious abstract entity called Fate was literally otherworldly. Alien. Absurd even.

And yet, it still ruled the lives of many.

Which, in all honesty, was almost even more fascinating than the existence of soulmarks itself – the belief people had for them despite being no logic to them at all.

Perhaps it was the little piece of human soul, an inner child people so desperately wanted to cling to for its own beauty and purity, a child who never wanted to stop believing in magic, fate, dragons, mighty knights and kind-hearted ladies, in all things of fairytales and happy-endings the most. Because to a point, that was what soulmarks were – and little fairytale-like book of destiny.

One that not even science seemed capable of beating.

And you should know; you were somewhat of a scientist yourself. And despite how unfathomable the nature of soulmates was, you could not say that you rejected the idea of them, of someone who was born to belong with you, someone you could share your life with, the right partner in the crime of life. Basic bodily needs aside, wasn’t that the most fundamental need of all? To love and be loved; to belong?

Who wouldn’t wish for that reassurance that they could have that, that some strange force of universe itself created a person like that for them? They were the god’s strongest soldiers you supposed; because you were certainly not immune to that tempting comfort.

But you weren’t obsessed – and you prided yourself in the fact. Mostly because the sheer fanaticism of the world over soulmarks, the one thing that kept defying science – besides alien portals, magical blue cubes, demigods walking the Earth and things alike – was dialled up ad absurdum.

There could be billions of dollars poured into research of curing cancer. Cure autoimmune diseases. Helping the homeless. Slowing down global warming. Erasing poverty and famine. Protecting nature, endangered species. Discovering new worlds, exploring space.

But no. Governments poured billions of dollars into researching soulmarks. How was it they existed? How was it you could cut through skin, you could cut off skin and the mark would reappear somewhere else? What was the grand scheme of them? Why was it that only two people who belonged together could see them and the person speaking the words could only see it on their soulmate’s skin after they spoke the words, almost like a fail-safe that couldn’t seem to be broken with any tricks?

It wasn’t a question of physics as far as people knew; they had tried to build sets-up of various optics, thermovision cameras and complex sets of lenses and mirrors, and none of the reports you had ever heard of claimed success. It wasn’t genetic markers either; no one had discovered a sequence of DNA responsible for soulmarks, let alone turned whatever discovery they would have made into a tool of reading anyone’s but their own and their soulmate’s mark. It didn’t seem to be chemistry either; no one had made a groundbreaking discovery or at least they hadn’t informed the scientific or any other community so far.

But by gods, forget the space race. Attempting to be the first one to somehow read everyone’s soulmark and then create an algorithm to monetize it as the one and only soulmate dating app, now that was a competition overflowing with cutthroat madmen. Not to mention the crowds looking to temper with soulmarks, to make another one appear on someone’s body; or worse, to erase the original soulmark and instead design one capable of manipulating the outcome of a soulmate match.

You found the force of that obsession insane – and frankly, all the attempts morally wrong. While dedicated to science and loyal to discovery, you found soulmarks to be something sacred, one of the things that should not be touched by filthy human hands; god knew humanity, while doing a lot of good, had mucked up about just as much.

You were not alone in that belief. There were, in fact, numerous demonstrations against scientists experimenting with soulmarks, people protesting against anyone creating such tool and using it to temper with natural course of things no one fully understood, not for the lack of trying. However – as expected everywhere where politics and money were involved – these protests were in vain.

They were as vain and futile as the research of the marks itself.

As for your own soulmark, you had a rather complicated relationship with it.

On one hand, it gave you a sense of peace – there was someone for you, even as sometimes it did not feel plausible at all. You had time too – because based on those words, you would not meet your soulmate until in your twenties at least. You had plenty of time to become who you were meant to be before a man could turn your life upside down, even as that was not supposed to be what soulmates did, at least not in a bad sense of the word.

On the other hand, it was a ball and chain. You would not find you soulmate sooner than in your twenties and sometimes, you missed them despite not having met yet. When imagining what your meeting could be like based on their first words etched into your skin, you feared they might be a little disappointed – even as you did not let that stop you from pursuing the life you wanted. And despite you wanting to choose the career either way, it felt like someone – be it god, fate or another cosmic entity humanity was yet to discover – had chosen the path for you the moment you had been born if not before.

'Doctor, are you alright?'

Four simple words that couldn’t be more ordinary and yet extraordinary for they represented one of the most meaningful encounters of your life. The source of as much comfort as anxiety.

You couldn’t stand hospitals ever since you were a child. The cold environment reminded you of the strange icy feeling that had settled in your chest over the months you had been visiting your dying father, your naïve eyes watching cancer bite off his energy and smiles first, before it swallowed his whole body and soul. He had been a ghost long before he passed; and in your mind, despite all rationality even years after, that ghost haunted any hospital you visited.

Learning what your soulmark was as a child, you had spent countless nights crying, soul torn into pieces, pushed and pulled between the visceral desire to live up to your soulmark and the crippling nausea at the mere thought of dealing with people drowned in misery caused by any illness in the cold institution they called a hospital.

However, the curious kid you had been, you had fallen in love with science itself.

And that one day at school, when a classmate of yours had brought their father to the class to talk about his job as a doctor, you had burst into tears. You began to sob in the middle of him explaining to third-graders that he was not a medical doctor, but a physicist with a doctorate earning him the degree of a doctor as well. You remembered your teacher leading you outside of class, concerned and absolutely baffled, trying to sooth you helplessly even as you were completely inconsolable – because you did not need consolation.

You were crying the happiest, most relieved tears of your life.

You could still be a ‘doctor’. And you genuinely wanted to be one, not just because of what your soulmark read. You had always wished to help people indirectly, even as you looked back at your life now. Sure, your soulmark could have been adding fuel to your drive when your motivation had been running low, but this was who you desired and was meant to become.

A molecular biologist. A doctor in making. Researching the effects of medicinal drugs with hopes to improve them.

A scientist not researching soulmarks, thank you very much.

And yes, there was the lingering feeling of missing a person you hadn’t even met yet – especially when Doctor Simmons’ face lit up like fluorodeoxyglucose in PET scans whenever she saw Doctor Fitz – but you had other things to focus on. And you had time. There was no pressure.

You were not a doctor yet, after all.

Naturally, just because you dodged the joys and sorrows of being a medical student and later on, a medical doctor, it did not mean that you had it easy. No one working on their doctorate did. But when you decided to pursue your degree and work in research, you signed up for that.

You signed up for a lot of things.

It was a little peculiar for you to be on the SHIELD campus in the science division without a doctorate. It was a known fact that SHIELD only recruited best of the best, this Science ad Technology in particular: you needed at least one doctorate to even walk through the door, which was something you were reminded a lot because you did not meet that requirement and here you were.

But SHELD owned the best equipment and you were fortunate enough to get in by the lovely game of fate, being good and driven enough and having met the right people at the right time. SHIELD Academy’s Science & Tech division had the unique equipment you often needed for your research. Your research was interesting enough for people who had perhaps more power over your little life than fate itself. Stars aligned.

It was no walk in a parc, but you were no fool; jumping after that opportunity after having one too many doors shut into your face was a no-brainer. Even though it meant signing up for a whole extra load of shit.

You signed up to be the weird girl. The privileged girl. Hell, even the stupider than local average girl, because you were only an engineer at this point.

You signed up for being the young girl, even as you had met a few people there who had started younger, having actually earned their first PhD at age 17 or less.

You signed up for mockery and misogyny, for as you were aware the level was blissfully low here compared to other workplaces, especially where science was concerned; in exact science, you observed, more than anywhere you ever heard of, it was customary to keep that one insufferable employee, because they were simply that good at their job, no matter that they had cost the department a few other employees.

You signed up for living on campus with other SHIELD recruits, which meant living in close quarters with other divisions; as a result, some days the whole area seemed to swim in testosterone emitted by the hulking special agents in making from Operations.

But that was okay. You could do it.

There were bright sides too, many of them. Like pursuing your dream career. Being among like-minded people whose brain, to a large point, ran on the same wavelength. Hooking up with a handsome but notbrainless recruit from Operations or Communication here and there, some flings, some relationships, because if you were to wait for the love of your life, you might as well not wither completely. You were only human and you had needs along with your lifegoals.

You more than willingly signed up for working with Agent slash Doctor Jemma Simmons. With her two PhDs and rich experience from the field, she had left the action behind in order to work on her third PhD and help humanity without having her life on the line every day. She was hard-working, with no-nonsense approach and lovely sense of humour with plenty of stories to back it up; she was overall pleasant person to work and be friends with and despite having been through amazing and terrifying experiences other people couldn’t even imagine, she remained surprisingly down-to-Earth.

Sure, she had her quirks like insisting on having a gun at hand at all times and stashing a few small vials of altered Molotov cocktail, a mixture of chemicals which would ignite upon the vial breaking, in one of the nearby cabinets – but you supposed there were worst things to get used to than that in a coworker or a friend. She used to be an active agent after all; in fact, unofficially, she remained one. Much like anyone, you knew that certain habits died hard and being through what she had been – she confessed to you that she once spent months on a nearly deserted ancient planet, among other things – left a mark. If this made her feel safer, you’d take it.

Another great thing about Jemma, Doctor Simmons, was that she was adorably English and was in dedicated relationship with Doctor Fitz who was a Scotsman, so that was the spice of long workdays at times; especially if you agreed to play Scrabble with them and a few friends in the evening.

But there were things you had not signed up for when following the alluring promise of a prestigious spot and unique equipment.

And one of them was a damn Nazi revival group in the form of fucking HYDRA attacking the lab while you were in the peaceful process of waiting for your PCR to finally be finished.

Influx of men in full tactical gear interrupting Jemma updating you the vacation plans, Fiji and all the rare species of fishes that could be observed there when scuba diving.

When you heard the first shouts, breaking of glass and dull echoes of gunshots from afar, your immediate thought was that you had been having a good day and that the experiment had been coming along nicely – and that whatever mess was happening was for sure about to ruin all your progress.

By the time panic settled in, Jemma was practically tackling you down, hand over your mouth to muffle your startled squeak at the sudden movement, her eyes alert and serious, screaming at you to keep quiet.

The sickening shouts of HAIL HYDRA, COOPERATE AND YOU’LL GET HURT LESS was what sent your brain crashing into reality; that and the distant agonized cries of people, coworkers and recruits you knew and met in the hallways every day, following the sounds of gunshots growing in volume and frequency.

You could hear Jemma shuffling next to you further.

You yourself were unable to move beyond stifling a cry behind your suddenly sweaty palm as another female voice wailed in pain.

Blood seemed to freeze in your veins despite your heart thundering in your ribcage and your temples and it helped you shit at all that you were aware that was such thing was literally impossible. By the time Jemma’s hand grabbed yours again and squeezed hard, you realized you were shaking – half in anger, half in paralyzing fear, half in utter shock. It didn’t matter it didn’t add up.

What mattered was the gun in Jemma’s hand. She was holding a gun, ready to shoot, because there were enemy agents, fucking HYDRA burst through the door, guns blazing. And killing people.

You were whispering with exasperation worth of a shout before you knew what you were doing.

“Why?! Why the fuck-“

“Probably the samples they brought in today, precious cargo,” Jemma whispered back frantically, loading the gun and reaching into another cabinet behind her. You only stared at her in utter confusion and mute horror, rapid heavy footsteps approaching and sending your already racing heart into a madness. “Gun or cocktails?”

“I can’t shoot a-!”

Before you could finish, the familiar sound of the sliding door opening and a horrifying echo of tactical boots reached your ears, a set of vials pressed into your palm.

You gulped, pulse thundering in your temples.

Those goddamn Simmons’ cocktails as you named them since she had insisted on keeping around.

You couldn’t believe the moment was here that you were actually grateful for them, even as they seemed to burn in your hand even with the vials themselves intact.

Your eyes snapped to Jemma’s face to question it wordlessly at least, but she wasn’t looking at you; she was listening intently, lying in wake as if she was the predator and not the prey you felt like.

Your own breathing seemed too loud as you allowed yourself to squeeze your eyes shut for but a moment, a desperate attempt to wake up from the nightmare; but the morning didn’t come.

Instead, a gunshot rang in the room, glass shattering somewhere above your head to your right, sending a waterfall of shards flying next to you.

And causing you to cry out in fright.

Which revealed your position to the agents flowing into the lab.

Without a thought you snapped your eyes opened, jumped to your feet and threw two vials in the direction of a black blur with a shockingly clear red patch of the mythical Hydra monster in the middle; peripherally, you saw Jemma attacking as well, deafening noise of gunshot nearly blowing your eardrum.

You crouched back behind the counter so fast you felt vertigo swing you to the left, sharp pain erupting from your palm. It was pure miracle your right hand didn’t clench in instinct and shatter the two remaining vials, setting yourself on fire as well.

As well.

Someone was screaming – a man, you realized – the acid smell of burned flesh and plastic and various chemicals punching your nose and your stomach hard. You had hit someone with the vial. They screamed because of what you had done. You had-

You had no time to feel sorry. You had no time to properly think fucking serves them right.

More steps, more gunshots, movements you weren’t sure how happened or came to you in the first place, flashes of light and crimson and noise and godawful smell--- and pain erupting in the back of your head and suddenly you were barely catching yourself on the counter with your slippery palm--- your fingers brushed metal, knees weak but hands grabbing with all your might, lifting and swinging, a sickening crack on your right before you were falling, landing on your wrist, back hitting the cabinet door and making even more noise as you sent equipment clattering around.

However, the loudest sound was another gunshot; but the strangest sound was unfamiliar whizzing and metal hitting metal and someone most definitely shouting “clear!” that sounded as distant as a whisper over the ringing in your ears.

Instinctively, your head snapped to the voice as you tried to prop up on your hands to see; the world swam in front of your eyes, dizziness forcing you to fall back on your ass and squeeze your eyes shut in hopes to stop the world from spinning, a sting in your palm drawing a hiss from your lips.

You could hear Jemma’s talking to someone, her words blurred into a mumble despite her voice sounding firm and methodical; footsteps, quick and heavy but somewhat soft, accompanied by a brush of air against your skin, making you open your eyes again just as navy blue with speckles of silvery grey glinting in a flickering light filled your vision.

Then, a face; an extremely handsome face even as a helmet made of blue similar to the rest of his suit covered the upper half of it, framing a pair of the dreamiest blue eyes you had ever seen, as beautiful as blurry as a dream indeed.

Somewhere in the back of your brain it started clicking into place – that the man in front of you looked a whole lot like Captain America and he was there to kick HYDRA’s ass; he was hunk and looked righteous and unfairly pretty, the cut of his jaw sharp enough to appear as if sculpted by ancient masters of art and it might be softened by the leather strap holding his helmet in place but that only brought out the sheer beauty of his lips even with a small bloody split on them.

And he was talking to you, his leather-clad hand gently grasping your arm as you involuntarily swayed to side when moving your head to take in the entirety of his large figure.

“Doctor, are you alright?” he asked slowly, velvety voice sweet and heavy with concern at once, the gentle but firm hold on your arm growing stronger when you blinked owlishly, the connection between the meaning of his words and his apparent intention to talk to you slow and fragile.

Your tongue felt as if made of lead even as it tasted of bitterness of adrenalin, but you willed yourself to answer, a knee-jerk reaction more than anything else.

“’mm… not a doctor yet.”

As you responded, you brain began to clear; and it occurred to you that it was a fair assumption for him to make.

You had grown used to clarifying, but hadn’t done so in months, because everyone already knew. However, he was an outsider to this lab and he couldn’t know you were the exception to the local rule. And you were wearing a lab coat, one that now had to be covered in mixture of chemicals you did not wish to identify, but perhaps you should try, because your forearm was beginning to burn.

The beautiful man kneeling in front of you silently observed you for what seemed like an eternity and half, surprise written all over his face. You couldn’t blame him; you were the weirdo of the lab. The fact the person who had purposely stacked explosives at hand was less of an anomaly than that was a thing to consider, but your head hurt too much to think about that and your heart was still beating unhealthily fast and his error seemed so insignificant in the grand scheme of things of HYDRA having attacked your lab and Captain America being right in front of you, holding onto your arm.

His soft baffled smile as he hung his head and shook it a bit with a breathless chuckle, and then lifted his downright shining gaze back to you, well that certainly made for a spectacular distraction from such unimportant thoughts.

Did his thumb just brush your arm as he still held you up a bit?

And had anyone ever told him he had a stunning smile that could melt hearts even if it was barely there and it was certainly melting yours?

“Apologies, miss. I’m going to help you get to medical, alright?” he suggested, those damn gorgeous eyes roaming your face with what almost seemed like wonder, even as his voice sounded all kinds of reassuring. “You’re safe now, I promise.”

Safe. You were safe. Because there had been HYDRA agents, but Captain America and actual SHIELD operatives had come to the rescue. And because Jemma was-

Jemma. Your straightened, dull ache pounding in your back as you did so, vision clearing a fraction with the sudden realization that you couldn’t hear your friend anymore. Your friend whom you owed your life very likely, but even if you didn’t, you would have-

You craned your neck over Captain America’s impressive frame, head snapping from left to right, nausea rising with the movement, but that didn’t matter, you had to-

You turned your alarmed gaze back to the man who was still holding you, an urgent question on your lips.

“Jemma? Is she--- Doctor Simmons, brunet, lab coat-“ you paused, realizing bitterly that you had just described half of the Science and Technology. “Female. She’s a doctor and an agent too, she was with me had a gu-“

A warm squeeze on your arm, the concern which had grown even more evident on Captain’s face melting away and giving way to a soothing smile.

“She’s alright. She’s already left to be checked up and to give her statement.”

Your shoulders sagged, your head dropping a bit; the violent vertigo that seized your body at that was not pleasant and you tried to blink it away, gaze catching the reflection of the still-blinking fluorescent lamp on the Captain’s shield.

Oh. That was probably what had made the whizzing sound before. As your brain conjured an image of that, a spinning shield flying through the air, you cursed yourself mentally for letting your mind even go there since you had already felt like you were the flying piece of metal and the thing you’d hit eventually would be the floor.

“My head is spinning,” you muttered absently as you attempted to refocus your gaze, praying to gods of religion and science alike you wouldn’t throw up on the poor caring man.

Why was he still sitting here with you? Surely there were much more important things to tend to than one little post-grad? How was he so kind and gentle? Wasn’t he known for inspiring speeches in a deep serious voice and for beating up villains with both his physical strength and brains?

So many questions and no answer in those pretty blue eyes.

In fact, the number of your questions grew exponentially when the hand on your arm released the pressure and gently rubbed your elbow instead; his free hand carefully cradled the back of your other hand, the contrast of leather and his warm skin surprisingly sensual, suddenly making you understand why so many regency era literature spoke of hand-holding as indecent even as it was barely Fifty Shades of Grey level of filth.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Captain Rogers said, snapping you from your thoughts. “Let me help you up and they’ll check you up too, including this nasty cut, okay?”

Huh?

Purposely slowly as not to make the vertigo worse, you glanced at your hand in his, feeling a fresh sting just by looking at your palm, your gaze instantly snapping away.

And falling straight onto two intact vials full of liquid of a distinct colour, lying carelessly about two feet away from Steve Rogers’ tactical boots. Your heart jumped in your chest, your hazy mind finally growing aware of your surroundings.

“Shoot! Careful around those, they’re highly flammable!” you warned him swiftly, his gaze snapping to the vials in question, while ours slowly trailed over the utter, utter messthe lab had become.

The sheer amount of broken glass, spilled chemicals, broken pipettes, torn papers and unidentifiable piles of junk was staggering and it was actually a miracle nothing had exploded yet – and as a cherry on top, a few feet away, a relatively small portable PCR machine, the very equipment you had been using, downright murdered along with your experiment and a smudge of blood around it. Jesus.

“Okay, that’s good to know. More the reason to get out,” Captain Rogers remarked, slight amusement lacing his voice, only growing stronger as he continued. “Keep a lot of these around?”

You could have scoffed, but you didn’t. You have no idea, pal.

“My friend is paranoid…” you explained, still staring at them, even as you mentally added ‘or not’, since those little things might have very well saved your life. As your gaze returned to Captain Rogers, your eyes caught on something else, having you sit up straighter in sheer horror. “Is that a stab wound?!”

You gulped at the sight, even as your uninjured hand instinctively reached out towards it – as if you could fix it. The already dark suit, a lovely navy blue, appeared downright black at left his side, right where it seemed to be singed by a flame.

Had that injury been there the whole damn time he had been sitting here with you, eternally patient with your slowed brain, Simmons’ cocktails lying around in one huge chemical dump in risk of exploding any damn minute?

You logically knew the answer had to be yes, but it made zero sense – and his answer made even less sense.

“Bullet, actually. Some sort of chemical damaged the Kevlar lining and they got a lucky hit. It’s just a graze.”

“A gra-“ you choked on the word, spit stuck in your throat causing you to cough and a groan escape past your lips as the sudden rapid movement sent your head pounding again.

“Hey, you-“

“You’ve been shot and you called my cut nasty?” you questioned through the tears, earning a smile worth giving up a career for – painfully warm, kind and… almost fond.

You truly must have hit your head hard.

…as if it hadn’t been evident before.

“I heal fast. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be alright, doc.”

A knee-jerk reaction – again. What was it with him? Had he hit his head, forgetting you had already explained – you had, you hadn’t imagined that, right? – and now he called you a doctor again, turned into a familiar nickname, no less.

“I’m not a doct---- holy shit.”

It slammed into you like a train, struck you like a lightning, even as neither of those things had ever happened to you – yet, you imagined it had to feel like this.

A massive force, a force of nature, realization as bright and as unexpected as a lightning from a clear sky.

Doctor, are you alright?

He had asked that. He had asked that. He had said your words. He had said your goddamn soulmate’s first words to you, what must have been minutes ago, and only now it hit you.

You were left staring at him with wide eyes, myriad of emotions written all over his face, including slight amusement and what you had earlier inexplicably identified as fondness, because the reason why he was still sitting here with you – though perhaps that was what he always did when rescuing, what did you know, you didn’t, this was your first meeting, that was why he had said the words – was that unlike you, he had realized you were his soulmate right away.

He kept watching you, silently letting you process the crucial revelation, a tight but no less kind smile on his lips.

“You said my words,” you said oh so intelligently. “You--- what… what did I—say?”

It was perhaps the stupidest question of all you could have come up on the spot, but you genuinely couldn’t remember – and wanted to know what words he had been looking at his whole life.

…this part of life? Or before the ice too? How did he feel about that? How did he feel about you? Was he disappointed? He didn’t look like he was, but didn’t even know what you had said—

What you did know and remember was that you were supposed to be smart and yet it had taken you an eternity to even notice you were facing your soulmate you had been probably spewing complete nonsense, you were now stammering like an idiot and for someone who had been worried, always, even if in the back of their mind, if their soulmate would find them good enough, you were generally making a bloody awful first impression.

But seriously, what had been your first words-

“You said you weren’t a doctor yet,” Captain Rogers reminded you, voice soft with affection of someone who had imagined hearing those words at least as many times as you had wondered about yours, hoping they would be pronounced by someone who’d respect you and cared about what kind of person you were, and would hopefully, eventually care for you. Loved you even. The tender way the syllables rolled of his tongue, spoken as if they tasted of honey, nearly chased fresh tears to your eyes. Alright, perhaps your first impression hadn’t been as bad as it appeared in your – albeit injured – head. “But if you really don’t remember saying that, that’s not a good sign. We need to get you medical attention. Come on. Hold on.”

Blinking slowly, still processing the light and yet suffocating feeling that found residence in your chest as it was starting to truly settle that this man, this painfully beautiful and criminally gentle man, was your soulmate, he was leaning closer to you, his hands guiding yours to wrap around his neck, a wordless order you had obediently followed, and then one of his arms was sliding under your knees and his other wrapping around the middle of your back.

And then your vertigo hit you anew because you were suddenly up in the air, hands gripping hard at anything you could reach – conveniently, the only thing was him, because he had lifted you upin his arms, some of your weight resting against his chest – despite the pain that shot up your left hand.

“Whoa-“ And then, because your memory did serve you at least a little: “You--- have been stabbed.”

“Shot,” he repeated patiently, fondly almost, and you did recall he had said that.

You recalled despite the scent of pleasant aftershave and peak man suddenly enveloping you as much as his arms and the firm armour – or perhaps that was the muscles underneath? And those pretty blue eyes were watching you with a glint of amusement and a surprising amount of affection for a guy saying he had been hit by a bullet, while effortlessly carrying the girl he had just met in his-- very, very strong, muscly arms and perhaps your head was not only spinning because of the sudden height you found yourself at.

…amusement? How was he amused? Was that-- was that a joke? Was he making fun of his bullet wound, playing it down?

“That’s… really not better.”

He grinned down at you as he made his way to the exit.

Walking. Watching you. Grinning and not even really looking where he was stepping.

Oh no.

Oh no, he was one of those people. You had met men like him at Operations, except for some reason – perhaps some sort of a soulmate telepathy – you had a feeling in him, that the peculiar recklessness many people from suffered, the disregard for their safety, because they could handle it, was dialled up to eleven in him. On a one to five scale. Because scaling mattered; you were a scientist. You’d know.

However, he did make it out of the laboratory without blowing anything up – perhaps at least that recklessness was balanced up by enhanced senses of a supersoldier and indeed, healing fast. And you hoped with your whole heart that walking out unscathed was a conscious effort, be it for him (somehow you doubted that) or for the cargo he was carrying (you had no doubt about that, not when he was looking at you like that). At least he had kept the helmet on; you were thankful for that, even as you’d love to see him without it.

See your soulmate.

You knew what he looked like everyone knew what he looked like. If they had missed the WW II. ed, they could barely miss the news about an alien invasion he had had a hand in stopping, the fall of majority of SHIELD, and other exciting horrifying news.

“I’ll be fine, doc. Now let’s get you away from exploding vials and lab equipment you could knock me out with. I’d rather be safe when I ask you out for dinner.”

You gulped, gripping him a bit tighter as a memory hit you – literally.

The PCR machine. You had done that. You had grabbed it and used it to smash into a HYDRA agent’s face, using the nearest improvised tool of defence. Jesus.

I really did that?

“You… saw that?” was what you asked instead, a few second ticking by as the rest of his words registered in your brain – and god, you really hoped your cognitive abilities would restore soon and the head injury had not caused permanent damage. “Oh.”

As much as your heart started pounding at that, a pleasant somersault in your stomach for a change, it was a little unfair to sort-of ask you when you were in your current predicament. Being carried like that, so close to him, so gentlemanly and tenderly handled despite your weight no doubt straining him, especially since he had been shot – grazed –, yoursenses wrapped in everything that was him and pulling you in, you were fairly certain you might say yes to just about anything he’d ask.

And not just because he was your soulmate.

Your soulmate carrying you in his arms, while wearing a very flattering suit of armour.

“If you’d like, of course,” he added with slight hesitance that only made your heart race further, because he was laying out his own heart for you already, expressive, genuine, and maybe sweetly handsy but not pushy despite his title and rank technically giving him every right to do whatever the hell he wanted. “But either way, I’ll save the real question for when I know you’re not suffering from a concussion. That sounds good?”

“Yes, Captain,” you replied dutifully. It did sound good, his consideration warming you from inside out. His voice sounded good too. “Sounds good to me.”

His smile was bright as the sun itself and basking in its light and warmth felt just as precious. Except he was to be your private sun forever shared with other to a point, but yours. Chosen by fate itself, defying all you had ever believed, beating time by decades, only so you could find each other.

“Looking forward to it, doc. Maybe I’ll get to know your name too while we’ll be at it,” he teased lightly, but without malice. “My name is Steve.”

Steve.

You knew that. You liked that.

Hand trembling a little, but not because you worried he’d drop you as you partly let go of his shoulders, you reached for the clasp on his helmet, a fluttery feeling in your chest eager to indeed see Steve rather than the Captain.

You felt your lips curl up and mirror his when he gave a tiny nod at your brief hesitation, your fingers finally undoing the strap and revealing his face with his help.

His hair was adorably ruffled, a slight shade of dust on his cheeks whispering of where the protective gear had been; but scientifically speaking, as well as speaking directly from heart, he was absolutely beautiful, his tender smile telling you he thought the very same about you.

He was meant to be yours; as you were meant to be his.

And you couldn’t wait to get to know him.

You could tell there were people around you and they were probably staring; but for the moment, you didn’t care at all. You had just met your soulmate.

And you weren’t even a doctor yet.

“It’s really nice to meet you, Steve. But I have to admit…” you said, teasing him with a pause, rewarded by his eyes earning a curious glint, “that the Doc nickname is kinda growing on me.”

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

Oh this feels like coming back to my roots 🤭 but hey, this challenge is a revival of all thigs good of the past, so why not go with the good old-fashioned soulmate meet-cute with a little angst beforehand, right?

AND BEHOLD I WROTE SOMETHING SHORTER THAN 10K. SHORTER THAN 8K ACTUALLY! It’s an extravaganza miracle 😂

Also. There might be some unrelated smut in the works, but I will not finish that today so... won't be part of the cum together extravaganza... ah well 🤭

Thank you for reading and potential feedback 💕

May the Fourth be with you and the rest of May be kind ✨

#CT 2024 raffle entry #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #soulmate au #soulmate steve rogers #the unexpected #anika ann

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luiscagreen · 2 years ago

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Content Marketing Traffic Sources Guide Reference

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andya231 · 2 years ago

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livwritessometimes · 5 months ago

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King of My Heart

: Mason Mount x singer!reader

: Y/n realises that she’s finally ready to let go of the past

: Prev | Next

: Begin Again Series

: Main Masterlist

: Author's Note: Were you able to guess the title? If not well there will be a next part 👀

…

liked by masonmount and 95,728 others

👤: kellypiquet, maxverstappen, joaofelix79, masonmount

Yourname: Life at it’s finest ✨

view all 80,628 comments

kellypiquet: We should go to photo booths more often!!

*liked by Yourname*

-> Yourname: Yessss!!! Next time we’ll take P too 💕

*liked by kellypiquet*

maxverstappen: No more game night that’s for sure 👍🏻

→ Yourname: You’re just saying that because you lost at UNO

→ maxverstappen: I got 4 plus 4’s FOUR Y/N!!!! DO YOU THINK THAT’S A JOKE!

-> joaofelix79: seems like someone is still not over last night 🤭

-> Yourname: ikrrr like can you imagine 😂

-> User66: are you seeing Y/n and Joao’s CHEMISTRY!!! 😍😍

User02: why is mason not commenting???

-> User11: maybe because he doesn’t want to get involved with her and honestly good for him! She’s way to problematic for him anyways

joaofelix79 added to their story!

seen by Yourname and 53,490 others

liked by masonmount and 90,629 others

Yourname: Enjoying some down time 🕰️

view all 62,305 comments

joaofelix79: I wonder who bought that book for you 🤔

-> Yourname: don’t know, some fan maybe 🤷🏻‍♀️

-> joaofelix79: is that so 👀

User00: Istg why are they playing with my heart like that JUST TELL US IF YOU’RE DATING OR NOT????

User44: you’re so pretty 😍

User69: Is that text from Joao 😏

liked by kellypiquet and 105,829 others

Yourname: This football thing is not that bad ⚽️

view all 91,628 comments

masonmount: Maybe that’s because of a certain player 🏟️

*liked by Yourname*

-> Yourname: hmm 🤔 I doubt that

-> User65: MASON AND Y/N OMGGG

-> User12: I ran THREE traffic lights to see this comment because my friends called me and started screaming 😭😭 I’m so glad that I did ✊🏻

joaofelix79: Wow I see how it is. How come you’re never at my game ????

-> Yourname: Now now there is no need to feel sad. Yk you’re my fav EA sports 😚

-> joaofelix79: WHYYY?? just let it gooo already 🥲

-> Yourname: never ✌🏻

liked by User84 and 59,727 others

👤: Yourname, magui_corceiro

CelebGossip: Battle of the Ex’s! Y/n L/n and Margarida Corceiro were spotted having a heated argument in a club in Portugal. Y/n was at the club with some of her friends, who also happen to be acquaintances with Magui. It is believed that Joao was the one who introduced them to Y/n. According to bystanders, Magui saw Y/n and started making sarcastic remarks about her friendship with Joao. The two were later seen engaging in a heated discussion with wild gestures from both sides. Sources say that Y/n soon left the club. It is still not clear exactly what the exchange was about, but all we can say is that we’re eagerly waiting for their next encounter.

view all 37,618 comments

User66: I was so expecting to see Y/n throw hands!! I’m disappointed 😔

User00: I just wanna know what Lando and Joao have to say about this 😝

liked by masonmount and 122,780 others

👤: joaofelix79

Yourname: Why you so obsessed with me, girl I wanna know 😌

view all 102,728 comments

joaofelix79: 😎

*liked by Yourname*

User21: Oh you shady lil thing!!!! AHHHH

User09: imagine being M***i!!!! I can’t 😭😭

User57: you’re so desperate! Can’t let go of Lando can you. Now you have to come for his girl as well 🙄

User32: oh I bet Y/n and Joao had so much fun taking these pictures!!! I WISH I COULD WITNESS THAT!!!!!

User77: You’re so petty. This is why things didn’t work out for you and Lando. Like I can’t imagine how happy he would have been after he left you. Poor Mason or Joao or whoever you’re dating. Best of luck to them cause they are sure as hell gonna need it. You’re so pathetic, get a life!

masonmount added to their story!

seen by Yourname and 175,929 others

liked by masonmount and 103,882 others

👤: kellypiquet, alexandrasaintmleux, joaofelix79, maxverstappen, charles_leclerc

Yourname: My broken bones are mending 🏖️

view all 89,628 comments

kellypiquet: Best part was giving Max and Charles sand boobs 😂

*liked by Yourname*

-> charles_leclerc: I still can’t believe you guys did that :(

-> alexandrasaintmleux: boo hoo Charles! Go cry me a river

-> charles_leclerc: You’ve been spending too much time with Y/n

-> alexandrasaintmleux: ik 🥰

-> Yourname: ily bbg 😘

-> charles_leclerc: NO BACK OFF 🤺

maxverstappen: I should have expected this. It was my fault I fell asleep 🙂

-> User58: NOO 😭😭 max is so used to this with Kelly and Y/n that he’s not even fighting it anymore

maxverstappen: @/joaofelix79 and @/masonmount why didn’t you stop them???

-> joaofelix79: they threatened to tie us to the ice cream truck 🥲

-> User23: waittttt did Max just confirm that Mason was also with them????????

liked by masonmount and 158,628 others

👤: masonmount

Yourname: And all it once, you are the one I had been waiting for ❤️

My new single King of My Heart out at midnight 🕛

view all 79,721 comments

kellypiquet: I’m SO HAPPY for you!!! Words can’t express how happy I am

*liked by Yourname*

-> Yourname: I love you so much kells

alexandrasaintmleux: Finallyyy!! Double dates whennn??

-> Yourname: For you, I’m ready to drop everything right now! Just say the word

-> charles_leclerc: @/Yourname 🤺🤺

joaofelix79: Wow! He had you at his game before me and now he has a song before me TOO!!!! Seriously Y/n it’s like you don’t wanna be friends or something

-> Yourname: You’re such a drama queen 👑

-> joaofelix79: Loud and Proud!!! 👸🏼

masonmount: I love you

-> Yourname: what a sap 😏

-> masonmount: I love you a little less now

-> Yourname: fine!! I love you too 💕

-> masonmount: ☺️

…

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bruciemilf · 6 days ago

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Things baby Bakugou did as a child (source: I was there)

— proposed to Izuku with dandelion roots, and always let him make the first wishes. Proceeded to introduce himself as his husband for the next two years.

— Hid all of Maseru’s socks and mixed them, forcing his dad to walk around with mismatched pairs.

— wrote all his little recipes by hand, in red crayola, in a little organizer like a grandma. The ones for Izuku, he keeps in a special notebook.

—‘Meals when Deku’s sad’ ‘Meals when he makes me happy’ ‘meals when he makes me FUKIN MAD—‘

— the last one is just rocks.

— learned how to tie his shoe when he was 3 but pretends he doesn’t know so Izuku would tie it for him. It has to be a bunny knot, or else it’ll feel wrong.

— Built a treehouse all by himself (read: asked his mom for one) That way he and Izuku could play all day everyday. The fun part was climbing. The hard part was getting themdown.

— Bakugou, that is; Izuku’s the one who has to convince him he’ll be back.

—Yes, he loved playing today. He loves playing everyday. No, he hasn’t made a new best friend. No, Kacchan, you don’t have to pay me to be your friend. Yes, I would love you if you were quirkless.

— clingy baby bakugou oh how i love you

— He can do everything except climb trees. He can’t fucking climb and there’s CATS in TREES and he can’t SAVE them by HIMSELF.

—So he’d always call Izuku to do it because the little bastard can climb like it’s no one’s business.

— SUUUCH an overprotective little fucker, oh my god. Baby Izuku was a god damn menace and he’s get himself stuck in the most absurd scenarios ever just to play hero.

— Gave baby Bakugou gray hairs, do NOT run into traffic just to walk some stray puppies on the other side. Don’t play with the older kids either! Do you even have a bandaid kit on you?! He’s calling Inko!

— When he and Izuku stop being friends, he secretly fills Izuku’s cubby with all kinds of sweet sour treats. He likes lime and sour cherry and all bitter things. Bakugou hates them. He spends his allowence on them for years.

— Same goes for All Might merch. He thinks Jeanist is cooler, but Izuku never had refined tastes.

#I LOVE HIMMMM I can’t wait to write a fic #watch little Bakugou be like ‘well you like all might more than me so the only solution left is to surpass him.#that way only I can be your favorite’#not to take away from his individual motivations ofc. but. if someone’s gonna be Izuku’s number one. it’s him.#(he already was)#bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #bkdk #bakudeku #I wish there was a tag for baby bakudeku #bnha #my hero academia

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iamgonnagetyouback · 1 month ago

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mattheo riddle x single mom!reader where his smile entranced you and your 4 months old son

The day had been impossibly long. You were running on fumes, your back ached from lugging around Benjamin’s diaper bag, and your head throbbed with the distinct pulse of frustration and lack of sleep. Your sweet baby boy, Benjamin, was usually a ray of sunshine, but today had tested even his limits—and yours.

Now, on a crowded bus full of strangers, Benjamin was letting the world know just how upset he was. His cries echoed loudly, shrill and relentless, as he wriggled in your arms. The passengers around you shifted uncomfortably, a few not-so-subtle glares landing on you. One person sighed audibly, another muttered under their breath, and it all made you want to sink into the floor.

“Ben, sweetheart,” you whispered, bouncing him gently, your voice trembling with exhaustion. “Please, please calm down.”

But Ben wasn’t having it. His face was scrunched up in frustration, little fists waving, and tears streaming down his rosy cheeks. You couldn’t blame him, really. You felt like crying, too.

Your cheeks burned as a middle-aged woman shot you a disapproving look over her glasses. You tried to meet her gaze with an apologetic smile, but it faltered halfway. What did she expect you to do? Babies cried. You were doing your best.

Just a little longer, you told yourself. Your stop wasn’t far. You just had to make it a few more minutes.

And then, miraculously, the crying stopped.

You blinked, stunned. For a moment, you thought you’d imagined the sudden silence. But no—Ben was quiet, his wide eyes fixed on something—or rather, someone. He wasn’t just calm; he was positively entranced.

You followed his gaze, turning your head to the source of his fascination.

Sitting two seats away was a man—maybe your age, mid-twenties—with messy dark curls and a face that could stop traffic. His features were sharp yet somehow soft, like they couldn’t decide whether to be rugged or refined. But it was his smile that held your attention—it was the kind of smile that could disarm even the most guarded hearts.

“Hey, buddy,” the man said, his voice low and soothing, but with a playful lilt that seemed to enchant your son. “What’s got you so upset, huh?”

To your utter shock, Ben giggled. A real, honest-to-goodness giggle. The kind that made his tiny nose scrunch up and his dimples show. He even reached out toward the man, babbling happily, his earlier meltdown forgotten.

Your heart squeezed, relief mingling with something else—something warm and fluttery that you hadn’t felt in a long time. You looked at the man, really looked at him. His easy confidence, the soft curve of his lips as he continued entertaining Ben, the way he seemed completely unfazed by the chaos that had preceded this moment... You felt yourself relax for the first time all day.

“Looks like he’s a fan,” the man said, glancing at you with a teasing grin that made your cheeks flush.

You tried to muster a coherent response, but you were so drained you could only manage a sheepish laugh. “I guess he is. Thank you. I don’t know what kind of magic you just pulled, but I owe you.”

“No magic,” he said, shrugging with a casual air that somehow made him even more attractive. “I’ve just got a way with people, I guess. Especially the little ones.”

Ben gurgled in agreement, as if to second this claim, and the man chuckled—a low, rich sound that made your exhaustion momentarily melt away.

All too soon, your stop was announced. You stood, adjusting Ben in your arms and slinging the diaper bag over your shoulder. The man watched you for a moment, his gaze thoughtful, before he stood too. You felt a flicker of surprise—and maybe a little nervousness—when he followed you off the bus.

As the bus pulled away, you glanced at him, unsure whether to say something. Before you could decide, he broke the silence.

“Looks like we’re heading in the same direction,” he said, falling into step beside you. “I’m Mattheo, by the way.”

“Hi, Mattheo,” you replied softly, offering him a tired but genuine smile. “I’m—”

Your introduction was cut short by a sharp pang of realization. Ben’s penguin—his favorite plush toy—was missing. You gasped, frantically patting down the diaper bag and checking your pockets. “No, no, no…”

“What’s wrong?” Mattheo asked, his brows furrowing in concern.

“I left his toy on the bus,” you said, your voice trembling. “His penguin. He won’t sleep without it.”

Mattheo didn’t hesitate. “Stay here.”

“Wait, what are you—” But he was already sprinting after the bus, waving his arms like a madman. “Oh my god,” you muttered, watching in a mix of disbelief and awe as he flagged the driver down. The bus screeched to a halt, and Mattheo jumped aboard.

You bounced Ben nervously, watching the bus like a hawk. Benjamin, meanwhile, seemed completely unfazed, cooing contentedly as if he knew Mattheo had everything under control.

Minutes later, Mattheo emerged from the bus, grinning triumphantly and holding the penguin aloft like a trophy. “Found it!”

You could’ve cried with relief. As he approached, you reached out to take the toy, and your fingers brushed his. The contact sent a tiny jolt through you—not unpleasant, but enough to make your breath catch.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice thick with gratitude. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” Mattheo replied easily, his eyes softening as he looked at Ben, who squealed with delight and clutched the penguin tightly. “Couldn’t let my little buddy go without his best friend, could I?”

The way he said it—so genuine, so warm—made your heart skip a beat. Ben clearly adored him, and you couldn’t blame your son. You were starting to feel the same way.

“You’re a lifesaver,” you said, smiling at Mattheo. “Really.”

“Just doing my good deed for the day,” he teased, his grin turning a little sheepish. “Plus, I think I’m Ben’s new favorite person.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you joked, though your tone was light and full of affection.

Mattheo laughed, and it was a sound you could’ve happily listened to forever. As the three of you walked away together, the world felt just a little bit brighter. For the first time in what felt like ages, you weren’t just surviving—you were hopeful.

AUTHOR'S NOTE If anyone has any requests/ideas related to this, PLEASE don't hesitate to send. This is my current obsession 💙

#ivy's soft scribbles ೀ #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #single mom!reader #mom!reader #dividers by adornedwithlight #pictures from pinterest

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supernovalcholism · 10 days ago

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Unspoken Rivalry

ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ x ɢɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | 3

ᴏɴᴇ, ᴛᴡᴏ,

ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ, ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇʀᴇ'ꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛ

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ𓋹་༘࿐

The second night started with promises of professionalism. You’d laid out your notes, stocked the desk with highlighters and coffee, and told yourself—sternly—that last night had been an anomaly. A fluke.

Viktor arrived ten minutes late, looking unfairly attractive in a fitted black sweater and his usual air of irritating self-assurance.

“Late again,” you said as he strolled in.

He shrugged, setting his bag down. “You missed me, admit it.”

“I missed the peace and quiet,” you shot back, but you didn’t meet his eyes. You couldn’t. Not when the memory of last night still lingered on your lips.

The first hour passed without incident. Well, mostly. He leaned closer than necessary when pointing out edits, and you refused to acknowledge the way your pulse quickened whenever his shoulder brushed yours.

But then came the argument.

“I’m telling you, this source doesn’t support your point,” Viktor said, his tone infuriatingly calm as he slid the book across the table.

“And I’m telling you, it does,” you snapped, shoving it back toward him. “Maybe if you actually read it—”

“Oh, I’ve read it,” he interrupted, leaning forward until there were mere inches between you. “And it’s flimsy at best.”

Your glare could have melted steel. “You are so insufferable.”

“And you are so stubborn,” he shot back, his voice rising just slightly.

The room went silent. Your eyes locked, the tension between you palpable, heavy, impossible to ignore.

“Fine,” you said after a beat, your voice tight. “You’re wrong, but whatever.”

“Admitting defeat already?” he asked, smirking.

That did it. Before you could stop yourself, you stood and shoved at his chest—not hard, but enough to make your point. Viktor caught your wrists, his grip firm but careful, his smirk fading into something darker.

“You always have to fight, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice low.

Your breath hitched. “Only because you make me.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you felt electric, thrumming with everything unsaid. Then, as if pulled by some magnetic force, you surged forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that was all fire and frustration.

This time, it wasn’t tentative. His hands slid up your arms, pulling you closer, and you didn’t resist. Your back hit the edge of the table, but you barely noticed, too focused on the way his mouth moved against yours—urgent, almost desperate.

It was chaotic and reckless, and you should have stopped, should have pulled away. But you didn’t. Because despite everything—despite the rivalry, the barbs, the constant one-upping—this felt right in a way you couldn’t explain.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. Viktor’s forehead rested against yours, his hands still on your waist.

“Well,” he said softly, his voice tinged with amusement. “That escalated quickly.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, though there was no bite to the words.

His lips curved into a small, genuine smile. “Same time tomorrow?"

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was racing in a way you couldn’t ignore.

“Maybe,” you said, stepping back.

And as he left, you knew one thing for certain: this rivalry was about to get a hell of a lot more complicated.

⋆

The third night began with an uneasy truce between you and Viktor. After the tension of the last two nights—and the way you couldn’t stop replaying that kiss in your mind—you’d sworn to yourself that tonight would be strictly business.

Viktor, as usual, showed up ten minutes late, his excuse a lazy, “Traffic.” He strolled in with his usual smug confidence, setting his bag down like he owned the place.

Before you could get started, a knock at the door interrupted.

You frowned. “Are you expecting someone?”

Viktor raised an eyebrow. “At your place? No.”

When you opened the door, Sky stood there, smiling brightly. They were in your seminar too, and while you hadn’t considered them much of a rival, their effortless charm and easygoing nature always seemed to draw people in.

“I thought I’d drop by and see if you two needed any help with the paper,” Sky said, their tone breezy as they stepped inside without waiting for an invitation. Their gaze lingered on Viktor. “I didn’t realize I’d be interrupting such an... exclusive meeting.”

Your jaw tightened. “It’s not exclusive. We’re just busy.”

Sky ignored you, walking over to Viktor’s side of the table. “You’ve been doing most of the heavy lifting, haven’t you?” They gave him a playful smile.

Viktor, to your annoyance, didn’t immediately brush them off. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Depends who you ask.”

Sky laughed, a little too loud, and perched themselves on the edge of the table—right next to Viktor. You gripped your pen tighter, forcing yourself to focus on your notes.

“So, Viktor,” Sky said, their voice dropping just slightly, “how’s it been working with the smartest person in class? Keeping you on your toes, I bet.”

Viktor shot you a look, his smirk widening. “Oh, they definitely keep things... interesting.”

You bit the inside of your cheek so hard it hurt.

Sky tilted their head, completely ignoring you now. “Well, I’m sure you’re more than capable of holding your own. I mean, you are the best speaker in the class.”

“Flattery,” Viktor said lightly, but you could see the faintest flush of color in his cheeks.

Your stomach twisted. Was Viktor actually enjoying this?

“Alright,” you cut in, slamming your notebook shut. “Are we going to work on this paper, or should I just leave you two to it?”

Sky turned to you, looking unbothered. “Relax. I’m just here to help.”

“Help how?” you asked, crossing your arms. “You don’t even have access to our research.”

Sky shrugged, their smile unfazed. “I’m good at brainstorming. And, you know, moral support.”

“Moral support,” you muttered under your breath, shooting Viktor a glare. He was still leaning back in his chair, looking far too amused by the situation.

“Don’t look at me,” Viktor said, holding up his hands. “I didn’t invite her.”

Sky leaned in closer to Viktor, her voice dropping to something almost conspiratorial. “You know, if this partnership isn’t working out, I’d be happy to team up with you on the next project. I’m sure we’d make a great team.”

You felt your nails digging into your palms. The audacity.

Viktor’s smirk faltered just slightly as his gaze flicked toward you, his expression unreadable. “I think I’m managing just fine where I am,” he said after a moment, his tone neutral.

You should have felt relieved, but the knot in your stomach only tightened. You hated how Sky’s attention toward Viktor made you feel—this prickling, restless jealousy that you couldn’t shake.

“You know what?” you said abruptly, standing. “I think I need some air. Feel free to continue flirting—I mean, brainstorming—without me.”

Before either of them could respond, you grabbed your coat and walked out, slamming the door behind you.

You hadn’t gone far—just out into the hallway, pacing back and forth as you tried to calm yourself. The jealousy was ridiculous. You had no claim on Viktor, no reason to feel this possessive.

Still, the image of Sky leaning so close to him made your blood boil.

The door opened behind you, and Viktor stepped out, his hands in his pockets. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you pace.

“What?” you snapped, stopping in your tracks.

“I was wondering when you’d admit it,” he said casually.

“Admit what?”

He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly, his voice softening. “That you like me.”

Your heart leapt into your throat. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Viktor’s smirk returned, but there was a warmth in his gaze that made your chest tighten. “You’re terrible at hiding it, you know.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he took another step forward, cutting you off. “For what it’s worth,” he murmured, “Sky doesn’t stand a chance.”

The words sent a rush of heat through you, but you weren’t ready to let him win. “Good,” you said, lifting your chin. “Because if she did, this paper would never get finished.”

Viktor chuckled, low and quiet, and for a moment, the tension between you softened into something almost... tender.

Then he nodded toward the door. “Should we get back to it? Or are you going to make me drag Sky out myself?”

You sighed, turning back toward the apartment. “Let’s just finish this paper before I regret partnering with you.”

But as you walked inside, Viktor’s hand brushed yours, lingering just long enough to send a spark racing up your arm.

Back in your apartment, Sky was still there, perched on the table with a book in hand, looking utterly comfortable in your space. They glanced up when you walked in, flashing you an innocent smile.

“Everything okay?” they asked, their tone sweet.

“Just fine,” you said tersely, brushing past them to reclaim your seat. Viktor followed, settling in next to you with his usual air of casual arrogance, but there was a glimmer of something different in his eyes—amusement, maybe, or satisfaction.

Sky didn’t miss the way Viktor sat closer to you than necessary, nor the way his arm brushed yours as he reached for a pen. They tilted their head, their smile faltering just slightly.

“So,” Sky said, her voice a little too bright, “what’s next on the agenda? I’m ready to dive in.”

Viktor didn’t even look at them. “Actually, we’ve got it covered.”

You blinked, glancing at him. He’d turned his attention to your notes, his expression focused but his tone deliberately dismissive.

Sky raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard. “Oh, really? I figured an extra set of eyes wouldn’t hurt.”

“Your input’s... noted,” Viktor said without missing a beat. “But I think we’ve got a good rhythm going.”

Sky’s smile became strained, her gaze flicking between the two of you. “Right. Well, if you’re sure.”

“We are,” you said quickly, surprising yourself. Viktor glanced at you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Sky lingered for another moment, clearly debating whether to push further. Finally, they sighed, gathering their things with a breezy shrug.

“Guess I’ll leave you two to it,” they said, their tone light but their eyes sharp. “Good luck with the paper.”

As the door closed behind them, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Well,” Viktor said, leaning back in his chair. “That was entertaining.”

You shot him a glare. “Entertaining? Sky was practically throwing herself at you.”

He smirked, turning to face you fully. “And you were practically throwing yourself out the door.”

Heat flooded your face. “I was not.”

Viktor leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. “You were jealous.”

“I was not,” you said again, though the words felt weak even to you.

His smirk softened into something more genuine. “You know,” he said, his tone quieter now, “I could’ve told them to leave the second they walked in. But I wanted to see how you’d react.”

Your heart stuttered. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re jealous,” he shot back, his grin widening.

Before you could respond, he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. The touch was light, tentative, but it sent a shiver through you all the same.

“For the record,” he murmured, “there’s no one else I’d rather work with. On this paper or... anything else.”

Your breath caught, his words settling somewhere deep in your chest. For once, you didn’t have a comeback..

Instead, you picked up your pen, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your face. “We’re finishing this paper. No more distractions.”

“Whatever you say,” Viktor said, but the way he looked at you made it clear he wasn’t done with this conversation.

Not by a long shot.

Let me know your thoughts, comments or questions!!!!!! I rlly appreciate them ^^

tagged: @viktors-final-glorious-ovulation @clearlycaffeinated-blog @kindadolly @haskellstwro @rinisfruity14 @kvi-kvi @theyeehawpope @unlucky-limesickle

#arcane #arcane viktor #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #viktor x reader #arcane smut #viktor smut #imagine #viktor arcane #viktor my beloved #viktor ff

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lyjen · 10 months ago

Text

When you’re home

A request by @shauna-carsley ☺️

Summary: She always texts or calls him when she’s home safe. But when she doesn’t, Evan gets worried. Until he goes on a call and meets her there. But not in the way Evan hoped to see her.

9-1-1 Masterlist

………………………………………………………………………………

“Yes, I did bought you cocoa powder like you asked me to. But you do realise it’s a little bit too hot outside to be drinking hot chocolate right?” (Y/n) said as she walked through the exit of the grocery store. Her phone was in her right hand, holding it to her ear. While a paper sack filled with groceries was resting between her body and her left arm.

Evan chuckled through the phone at her words. “Yeah I know. It’s not for hot chocolate though.” He answered her question. A confused frown appeared on her face as she continued to walk down the street. “Well.. Are you gonna tell me why you made me buy it?” She asked him. “Hmm. You know what? No, you’ll see it for yourself tonight.” Evan’s voice answered back. “Wh-“ As (y/n) wanted to react at what Evan told her, she hears a loud alarm through the phone. “Oh, shit. Gotta go. What did you want to say?” his voice sounded through the phone.

A soft chuckle left her mouth as she shook her head at Evan’s sudden rush in his voice. Somehow, whenever Evan was on shift and called with (Y/n) on the phone, the alarm would go off.

“Nothing, just.. be careful, and I love you.”

A smile appeared on Evan’s face when she said those exact words. It made his heart melt right on the spot, just like it did when she said it the first time about 10 years ago. They met when they went to high school together. In senior year, to be exact.

As Evan wants to say something to end the call, he hears a familiar voice calling his name. “Buck! Quit chit chatting with my sister, we’ve got to go!” Eddie’s voice sounded through the station. “Yeah, yeah! I’m coming Diaz!” He yells back at his best friend. He hears (Y/n)’s giggle through the speaker of his phone which he was holding against his ear. He sighs.

“I love you too. I’ll see you tonight. Text me when you’re home, okay?” Evan says. He always wanted to make sure that she’d get home safe. Even if it was just a small text that contained an emoji of a house, or the exact words, or just a phone call. “Hmm, I will... be safe out there.” and with those words she clicked on the red button to end the phone call.

(Y/n) locked her phone again and put it into the small shoulder bag she had with her. It couldn’t hold much, but held the necessary things such as her: phone, wallet and keys. That was enough. She readjusted the weight she was holding between her body and her left arm, and switched it to her right arm. That was the arm that had more strength and endurance.

She continues her way home, which was maybe fifteen to twenty minutes away. She passes by street after street in the LA weather. (Y/n) comes to a stop when she clicks the button to turn the pedestrian traffic light to green. She waits for a few seconds, but when the lights jumps from red to green, she steps with her feet on the asphalt and starts walking towards the other end of the pedestrian crossing.

She hears the sound of squealing tires coming from not too far from her. Her head shot towards her right, as she sees the source of the sound turning around the corner with a rapidity definitely above the speed limit. The car was swinging from the left to the right like it was possessed. (Y/n) has no time to react to what is happening.

But before she knew it, the bag with groceries was blown out of her right arm and she was facing the blue sky.

Her ears are ringing. An annoying high frequency noise is ringing through her ears. (Y/n)’s vision was blurry and partly overexposed. It was like someone was shining a flashlight in her face, and wouldn’t turn it off. She could hear muffled voices, but she couldn’t hear clearly what they were saying. It was like her ears were underwater. Her head felt like it was beating out of her skin.

She squeezes her eyes shut to try and let her eyes get used to the bright light. But it wouldn’t stop. Until a figure starts hoovering over her body.

Evan hopped down the steps of the truck following Eddie out. His mouth left a sigh, as he shrugged off his florescent jacket and hang it underneath his last name. Before he could let go of his jacket, the loud alarm rang again through the firehouse. His eyes closed as he sighs again. “Ah come on!” he says with a defeated look. He just wanted to take a shower. He felt dirty, his body was sweating, his face was full with ashes from last call.

He could hear Eddie laughing at his reaction. “Okay who said the Q-word?” Evan says as he looks at every person around him now. They didn’t answer, they just put on their jackets and hopped back into the truck. Evan sighs as he rips his florescent jacket from the hook and also took place in the truck.

The drive was quiet. Everyone was tired from last call, they wanted to eat, drink and relax for a bit. “Somebody must have said the Q-word. Otherwise this would not have happened.” Evan says, still sure of his conclusion. Nobody reacted to his words, Evan looked around him in the back of the truck. Waiting for someone to respond to him. “Ravi.” Is the only thing what left Eddie’s mouth. “Yeah I know right! It must’ve been him! I told hi-“ Evan reacts. “No. Ravi.” Eddie cuts him off as he points outside the window.

When the truck came to a stop, they immediately left the rig. Evan saw Ravi walking towards Bobby. “Buck, Eddie, stand by. Hen and Chim follow me.” Bobby ordered. Eddie and Evan had to stay back because if they needed equipment, it was faster. Instead of them running back and forth.

Evan in the meanwhile had now time to check his phone. He let his back fall against the truck as he grabs his phone out of his pocket. He unlocks his screen to take a look at his notifications. “Hmm” he made a think-full noise. Eddie lets himself fall with his back against the truck too. “What’s up?” Eddie asked when he heard Evan’s confused sound. “Before our last call, I was calling with (Y/n).” Evan started. “Yes.. and?” Eddie answered with a confused look projected on his face. “I always tell her to text me when she gets home. But it has been.. what?.. One hour since we called and she still hasn’t texted me.” He tells with a worried voice. “Maybe she went to another store? Or simply forgot.” Eddie tries to calm him down before he makes any other conclusions like the Q-word from a few minutes ago. “Eddie, Buck, I need a backboard and another medic bag here.” He hears Bobby’s voice through the radio. “Copy that cap.” Eddie answered Bobby through his radio, and he patted his hand on Evan’s shoulder.

He nodded. Maybe Eddie was right, maybe Evan was just seeing things that weren’t there. He clicks on the on/off button to lock his phone again and let it slide back into his pocket. He opens the compartment to slide out the backboard while Eddie gets the medic bag. As suddenly Bobby is walking towards Buck and Eddie.

“Something wrong cap? Do you need anything?” Buck asks, while he closes the compartment. “I think you both may want to sit this one out.” Is the only thing Bobby says. A confused look spreads over Evan’s and Eddie’s face. Bobby never said that to him. The only time he said that was when he got back from revalidation, after the fire truck accident. Evan and Eddie look at each other, asking each other without any words what the hell was going on. “Uhm.. why?” Evan asks Bobby. As he looks to his side to try and peek at the scene. “You both are too personal involved at this call, I’m just trying to look out for you.” Bobby says.

Too personal involved? What did that mean? Who was close to Eddie and him? The question was ringing through Evan’s head while Eddie was talking with Bobby now. Until it hit him. Literally a minute ago he was talking about his girlfriend, his guts were telling him something wasn’t right.

Shit.

Bobby ends the conversation with both Eddie and Evan and turns to walk away. When Evan stops him in his movement by grabbing his arm. “Is it (Y/n)?” Evan asks with a trembling voice as he lets go of his captains arm. Bobby’s eyes shot from Eddie to Evan. And softly nodded his head. “Yes. It’s (Y/n).” He confirms.

Evan felt like the world was suddenly on fire and broke down piece, by piece.

Evan grabbed the backboard he had already out and put it underneath his arm. “Too personal involved my ass.” Evan’s voice spoke as he passed Bobby and ran as fast as he could with the backboard he was carrying. As he comes closer, and closer. He recognises the dress out of a thousand. It was the dress (y/n) wore this morning when he left the house to go on shift this exact morning. It’s the dress she wore on their date night two weeks ago. The green dress that made him go crazy. But that green dress was now partly underneath a car. Her groceries were spread over the whole scene. He was sure he passed by a package of cocoa in his speed.

Evan drops the backboard he was carrying when he was close enough to his girlfriend. She was sobbing. Chimney was sitting at her side, while Hen was in the car dealing with the driver. Evan kneeled down on the ground next to the side of (Y/n). “Hey.. hey, I’m here. I’m with you.” Evan says as he grabs her free hand. “Buck?” She cries. She has a neck brace around her neck. “I’m here baby.” He says softly as he brings his mouth towards her hand and plants a kiss on it. He was panicking. “You’re gonna be okay.” He reassured her.

The driver was already evacuated from his car. “Vitals are trembling downwards” Chimney says as he rips his stethoscope from his ears. “Alright, let’s get her out from underneath the car. Get her on the backboard and transported right now!” Bobby orders his crew. Evan grabbed the backboard he had dropped beside him just a minute ago. And put it down right above her head, so they could slide her from underneath the car on the backboard in one smooth movement. “Ready? On three. One.. two… three.” And with that she was on the backboard. The puddle of blood from her head was still lying on the asphalt.

One more time they counted down to three as they pulled up the backboard and put (y/n) on the gurney. The gurney gets pushed into the back of the ambulance.

(Y/n)’s eyes starts rolling as she goes unconscious. “We’re losing her! We’ve got to intubate her.” Eddie says as he rips off his stethoscope. Chimney stops Eddie from getting a tube out of one of the compartments. “When you put that tube in, there’s a chance it will never come back out.” Chimney warns Eddie, it was his sister after all. Eddie looks at Evan, waiting for his answer. Evan closes his eyes for one millisecond. As he nods in agreement to intubate her, he knew that if they waited any longer, he’d lose her. “I’m going with her.” Evan says as he joined Eddie in the back of the ambulance, and the backdoors closed.

_________

Waiting, waiting, and more waiting. Evan feels like he is going crazy. Eddie and Evan have been here for hours, drinking the grossest hospital coffee to stay awake. The rest of the 118 stops by every now and then, with food and drinks.

“(Y/n) Diaz?” A doctor calls through the waiting room. Eddie and Evan both stand up, and walk towards the doctor. “Follow me please.” The female doctor says as she walks through the hall way. This was weird. This has never happened before. Normally they would tell the family the results in the waiting room. Something wasn’t right. “Take a seat.” she says as she points at the two chairs in front of what Evan assumed to be her desk. Both of them take place, as Evan’s heartbeat started to fasten. The doctor sat down in her office chair and flipped open the folder with documents. She shortly introduces herself to the two men, as she continues to bring the news of (y/n). “Due to the accident, mrs Diaz suffered a severe head trauma, together with a broken left leg and a possible spinal injury.” the doctor says. Both Eddie and Evan are silent. Evan’s heart starts pounding like it was trying to leave his chest. And he starts tapping his feet at the ground in a fast rhythm. “Im sorry I don’t have any better news than this now.” She continued as she tries to fill the silence in the room. Evan sighs as he tries to calm himself down. He was scared.

“Okay but.. how is she doing? Is she awake?” Eddie asks the doctor. The doctor is looking down at the documents. “We’ve worked on her left leg, she has now pins and screws helping to heal the bones in her leg. Due to her spinal injury, I’m afraid she may suffer paralysis to the lower body.. I can’t say if this is temporary or permanent. As for your question if she’s awake, I’m afraid she’s not. She’s in a coma, because of the head injury, and she’s also still intubated.” The doctor explains the situation.

It felt for Evan like the world was falling apart. At this moment, everything that was being said turned into muffled sounds. The kind of sounds you’d hear if you were falling a sleep. “How did this even happen?” Eddie asked the doctor. “We did a few tests on the driver, and it turned out he was under the influence of alcohol.” Evan looked up at the doctor, but he doesn’t say anything. A thousand different emotions are projected on his face and rushing through his veins. His heart tightened in his chest at the words that just came out of the doctor’s mouth. Evan could hear his breathing become more and more rapid. He could still hear how Eddie and the doctor were talking, discussing some things.

But for Evan it’s becoming all too much. He has the feeling that he needs to leave the room. Right. Fucking. now. In one fast movement he stands up and storms out of the room. He hears how the door slams shut behind him, as he grabs his chest to try and calm himself down. He walks down the hall and slams with his fist on the first wall he sees. Tears were welling in his eyes. He couldn’t lose her. Not like this.

He lets his back fall against the wall and let himself slide downward. He closes his arms around his knees, as tears rolls down his cheeks. He sobs. He couldn’t believe how his world got turned upside down in a flash.

“I think it’s better for you if you take a break, Buck.” Eddie told Evan. He hasn’t left the room since he came in this morning. Eddie puts his hand on Evan’s shoulder, and gave him a soft squeeze. Evan knew Eddie was just looking out for him, so he knew it was best to not go against Eddie. Evan just nods, leaves a soft kiss on (y/n)’s hand and patted Eddie on his shoulder before he left the room.

“Hey sis..” he starts, as he takes place on the chair where Evan was sitting just a few seconds ago. He sighs. “Mi dios, I don’t even know what to say..” he continued. He lays his right hand on hers, which was connected with the IV tube. He lets his eyes wander over her bruised body and the tube that was in her mouth. He sighs at the sight of it. “It breaks my heart, seeing you like this..” he goes on after a minute of silence. It was his little sister, lying in the hospital bed. He was closest to (y/n) than to any of his other sisters. He could tell her everything.

Eddie takes a look behind him and sees how Evan is standing in front of the window with his back towards the room. Eddie could sense that Evan was struggling with himself, he didn’t know how to act or how to feel.

“You know how Buck is with emotions. But I can see he’s reaching his breaking point.” He says as he turns back towards (y/n). The beeps and other sounds make Eddie feel sick. It felt like Eddie was reliving everything what happened with Shannon all over again. “I can tell you, it’s not just Buck who’s reaching his breaking point.. I’m trying to stay strong for you and for Chris.. but the truth is, I don’t know how much longer I can do this (y/n).” Eddie continues. His voice is breaking, sounding like he could burst out in tears with a snap of his fingers.

It has been a week since the accident, both Evan and Eddie were here for as long as they could each day. Eddie still had Chris to look after, but luckily his Abuela was there whenever he needed her. Chris went on and on asking about his aunt (Y/n), where she was, how she was doing.. But every single time Chris would mention her, Eddie could feel his heart racing in his chest. He didn’t want to worry Chris. So he just told him that she was busy.

“Please.. I need you to fight. Fight to come back to us. Because.. I don’t know if I can survive another loss. Especially if it’s you.” He tries to wipe away his tears with his left hand, while he squeezes hers with his right hand. “Buck can’t lose you. I can’t lose you. Not like this..” he cries. He couldn’t stop his tears.

He cried until there weren’t any tears left to cry, Eddie is still sitting in the chair. His left elbow leaning on his left knee to give him some support, as his right hand still remained on her hand. Eddie was just looking at his feet, thinking about all different kind of scenarios of what could happen. Eddie flinched as someone touches his shoulder. It was Evan with two cardboard to go cups in his hands. “Here..” Evan says as he holds out the cardboard cup towards Eddie. “Thanks.” He says as he accepts the cup from Evan with his left hand, and puts it on the small table next to the chair he was sitting on.

As suddenly the fingers of her left hand he was holding, started to move. He could feel the small movements underneath the palm of his hand. Slowly he moved his head, so he could look at her hand. Her fingers were definitely moving. His eyes shot towards her face. Eddie stood up from his chair as he took place next to the side of her bed. “Eddie? What’s wrong?” Evan’s voice said when he puts his coffee down on the same small table. Evan took place next to the other side of the bed.

“She moved..” Eddie says, not really knowing if this was real or not. “Wait. what?” Evan reacts as he looks at Eddie. “She moved her fingers Buck. Look.” Eddie says as he removes his hand off hers. Evan takes a look at her hand, he could see her fingers twitching.

Evan’s eyes wandered towards her face. Her eyelids were slowly opening. Eddie pushed the alarm button in the room for a doctor or nurse to get in and help. Step by step, her eye lids opened wider and wider. Until she was fully conscious. A smile appeared on Evan’s face when his eyes met hers. But her face went to a scared look when she realised what was happening. Her leg was torturing her and it felt like her head was about to explode. She wanted to scream but feels like she can’t. Panic rushed through her veins. She wanted to feel what was on her face, connecting to her mouth. But before her right hand could touch it, Evan stopped her by grabbing her hand. “No.. no.” He whispered when he grabbed her hand en put it on his chest. Tears are leaving the corner of her eyes.

___________

Temporary paralysis to the lower body. That is what she got from crossing the street with a green light. Together with some cruel nightmares. Every time when she closed her eyes she would relive that same moment. She would wake up crying, screaming and sweating.

(Y/n) is sitting in her wheelchair as she tries to reach for her keys, which were lying on the kitchen island. She reaches out as far as she could, basically pushing her body almost into the wooden construction of the kitchen. She sighs. This isn’t gonna work. Evan was sleeping, he came home late from shift last night. She didn’t want to wake him and ask him to grab her keys if she was so close to getting it herself. (Y/n) just had to push through. She could do this.. right?

The last weeks she had appointments with a physiotherapist, to try and get her ability to walk back again. But there weren’t any results yet. She was getting impatient, it was like everything she did all the trouble she went through, didn’t do anything for her legs.

(Y/n) puts her hands on the arm rests of the wheelchair she was sitting in, and with all her strength she has in her arms pushes herself to her feet. For a second, it feels like she’s the old (y/n) again. But then with all of gravity’s help, she falls to the side with her butt on the ground. “For fuck sake!” She yells, as she pushes the wheelchair with every single piece of annoyance and anger she has in her to the other side of the room. She didn’t want to have anything to do with it. She can walk. She knows it. She did it before this stupid accident so she can do it again. She didn’t need a wheelchair.

A loud bang roars through the room.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks. She feels like a failure. Frustrated she puts her hands in her hair and starts pulling some hairs from her scalp.

Evan shot up at the sound of a bang. With sleepy eyes, which were still half closed. He sweeps his arm beside him, searching for his girlfriend. “(Y/n)?” He says softly as he now takes a look beside him and doesn’t spot her. He pulls off the covers and steps out of bed as he makes his way through his house, searching for his girlfriend.

“(Y/n)?” Her name sounds through the house. His eyes fall on the wheelchair which was now in the corner of the kitchen. He furrowed his brows, as he notices it. Evan hears a soft sob. He follows the sound, but then he sees his girlfriend between the kitchen island and the counter, on the ground. With tears falling down her face.

“Hey! Hey! hey! What happened?” Evan asks with a concerned voice as he rushes to her side, letting himself fall down on his knees. She didn’t answer. He puts a hand on her shoulder, as he tries to make eye contact with her.

Still no answer.

Evan lets himself sit down on his butt next to her, as he crosses his legs. His hand which was on her shoulder, now makes its way towards her back as he makes small circles on it. Once again he tries to make eye contact with her.

“I can’t..” she sobs.

“You can’t.. what?” He asks confused. She wipes her hand underneath her eyes, as she tries to wipe away some tears. “Do simple shit. Like getting my fucking keys from the damn’ kitchen counter.” She cries.

Evan’s mouth left out a sigh. He moves himself to sit more across of her. Pieces of hair were sticking to her face because of the tears. He brushes a few strands of hair behind her ear. His fingers trace down from her ear towards her cheek.

“But.. We’ve come so far..” he starts. “Buck! I’ve been doing this for weeks now, maybe months.. and I still don’t see any fucking progress.” she yells as she bangs her fist on the side of the kitchen island.

“That time will come. You just need to be patient.” Evan tried to reassure her. “Time. Yeah.. sure. How much fucking time does it need?!” she continued on. “(Y/n)-“ he starts. “And don’t you dare to say ‘I know how you feel’ because you fucking don’t!” (Y/n) snapped back at Evan.

Evan shook his head.

“Oh so.. I haven’t been pinned down by a firetruck? I haven’t broke my leg and not been able to work for months, just like you? I haven’t been stuck in a wheelchair just like you?” Evan shot back at her. “It’s not the same.” She said under her breath, as she started fidgeting with her fingers. And looks down at her hands.

“You know what.. you’re right…” (Y/n) looked up at Evan as he said that. “I don’t know how it feels to be stuck to that chair. To not feel your own legs. But what I do know is that I had someone to rely on. And that person was you. You dragged me through that horrible period of my life.” Evan said while he intensely looked into her eyes. He had to make sure the message came over. “So right now. I need you to do the damn’ same. So go ahead, push me away. Punch me, I don’t care. But I will still be here at the end of the day. For you. Because I love you.” Evan ended his speech.

She just looks at him. A moment of silence seemed to be created in between the yelling of (Y/n) and the speech of Evan.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers. As tears were again rolling down her cheeks. “Come here..” Evan says as he reels her into him. He cupped one hand on the back of her head, and rested the other hand around her waist. She sobs into the crook of his neck, a wet spot seems to be created on his t shirt. He plants a kiss on the side of her head.

“We’ll be alright..”

#911 #911 fox #911 imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evanbuckley #imagine #911 abc

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