Hey GaiS... YES I KNOW I'VE TAKEN DECADES, I'M SORRY I HAVE NO WIFI AT HOME. Plus this guy at school really looks like Sniper, just saying..
sigh, just keep on reading oml, Enjoy!!!~*~*~*~*~*~
You were currently driving down the sandy road, tapping the beat of an old song on the van's dusty dash board.
You had found out who Barbara was.. She was a 76 year old woman, who apparently had known Mick for a couple of years.
You were kinda embarrassed when you said your farewells to her, she did think you and Mick were something, causing him to turn into a blushing, stuttery mess. He quickly denied anything she'd said, causing a little pain to bloom in your chest.
You stared ahead disappointingly, looking over at Mick for some sort of entertainment.
Words cannot describe how hilarious this very precise moment was to you.
You bursted into a laughing fit, grabbing your stomach in slight pain. Mick turned a bright red, staring at your shaking form. "W-whot? Do Oi have somethin' on ma' face?!" Mick asked hurriedly, lowering the van's small sun shield and opening the tiny mirror, checking his face slightly panicked.
You recalled the last few seconds, remembering Mick's concentrated frown, his finger unconsciously lifting up to his big nose. He looked so into his own thing, you couldn't help but explode. You giggled to yourself again, observing Mick's worried features.
"Where you picking your filthy nose, Mr. Mundy?.."
Uh oh.. Mick's whole expression changed, his cheeks burning a rich, velvet red. That teasing smirk of yours wasn't helping either.
He decided to play it cool. He looked back at the road before him, shrugging carelessly.
"No Oi wasn't, you must've gotten confused, maybe a trick of the sunlight on yer face.."
A trick of the light? Really?
"Is that the best excuse you got, Mundy? Please, I expected a better one man.." Mick's face could only be described with one word, now: Tomato.
You just looked so confident and beautiful, your arms crossed above your chest, that smirk forming on your soft, pink li- MICK CONTROL YOURSELF.
He shook his head, as if it'd help ease his mind of those constant, bugging thoughts. He decided he just had to surrender.
You noticed his shoulders slump, as he released a long sigh, scratching his head thoughtfully and looking elsewhere but your face.
"Ma' nose wus itchin' and I couldn't jus' pull ovah' for a bloody nose itch!"
"What if we had a crash and DiEd?!? And all because you were picking that nasty, little nose of yours?"
You asked, leaning forward on your seat and booping his nose, a smile tugging the corner of your lips.
You were so close to him, mere inches apart, so close he could kis- Seriously Mick, I'm running out of shades of red to describe your face, pull it together man.
He shook his head roughly, turning back to the road and thinking of a possible answer for your question. He hadn't put much thought into it, death always seemed like something unimportant to him, non-existent even; but now, he had someone else to care for..to live for.. to lo- MICK MUNDY WOuLd yOu PLeAsE?!?
Mick wiped his face roughly, beads of sweat running cold down his forehead. Was it him or is it hot in here?
"Whoof! a' think tha' a.c.'s broken.." Mick laughed nervously, tossing his hat behind his designated seat and pulling on his shirt's collar, fanning his face as best as he could, one hand stayed on the wheel.
"Um, you okay there, Mick?" You asked, oblivious to the fact that it was your mere presence making him all jittery and sweaty. "W-whot? Yes, yes, of course.." He stammered, tugging at his shirt to take it off.. for better ventilation, of course.
He struggled with the left sleeve, half blind by the shirt's red fabric covering his face. You watched with amusement, face palming when he tried to peek over to see the road ahead properly.
"Let me help you with that.." You began without thinking, scooting closer to the lanky Australian.
"W-wha-? NO! O-oi mean, it's okay, oi can handle it!.." He began, trying to reassure himself more than you. You shook your head disapprovingly.
"No, you're struggling without need, let me help you!" You grabbed the hem of his shirt with both hands, being face-pushed by a rather large, soft hand. "No, (Y/n), you sit nice 'n tight, Oi can do this mahself.."
You huffed, now becoming a little annoyed by his hard-headed attitude. "You. Need. Help!" You pulled on his shirt, causing him to jump back and push your face away more.
It wasn't that he didn't need help, 'cause he actually did. The problem was you.
Every time your hand accidentally brushed against his torso, it'd send shivers down his spine, he'd get all tingly and mushy and he didn't like it.
Not. One. Bit.
You didn't know this though.
"LET GO OF MY FA-"
"NOOO!!!"
"LET ME HELP YOU!!!!!"
"STAY AWAY!!"
*CRASHHH!!*
tsk, tsk, tsk, Reader-chan.. You and your compulsive actions with hot men.. I know it's short, bare with me guys smh ;-;
WELP, HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! VOTE AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKED THIS CHAPTER!! I LOVE YOU MY LIL MARSHMALLOWS!!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️
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Meeting Mr. Mundy (Sniper x reader Fanfiction)
Fanfic(Y/n) is an ordinary girl, with an ordinary life; maybe too ordinary to be precise. Mr. Carson had offered her a job at his cafeteria. She was happy at her job, don't get me wrong, but what will happen when a tall, Australian man walks in through t...