#that’s just been me this whole week during recovery | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

formula-nyoom · 4 hours

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Hi! I’m currently recovering from a pretty bad hip injury and am doing physical therapy right now. PT’s been really hard and hurts my hip like hell, so I was wondering if you could maybe write about either a McLaren or Ferrari driver (your choice) who’s going through it after a hip injury and is just having a really tough time, but all of the drivers (especially Lando, Charles, Carlos, Oscar, and Daniel if that’s okay - I know it’s a lot hahaha) are there to reassure her and cheer her on.

If you don’t feel comfortable writing this, I totally understand! I hope you have a nice rest of your day/night! :)

A/N: Hope I did ok with this one. Midterms prevented me from working on this but I tried to finish this as soon as possible. Hope you enjoy it.

Realistically you should be grateful that you can still walk after the massive crash you went through in Jeddah. Well “walk” is a loose term. Having to go through physical therapy and making sure your hip heals properly, you’re not able to put any weight on your foot and have to use crutches to walk. The combination of that and the lingering pain has not made the recovery process easy. But thankfully, you were only the reserve driver for Ferrari, which means you didn’t have to rush your recovery.

“How are you feeling?” Charles asked as he packed your bag for the day while you laid on the bed in your hotel room. Him and Carlos had been helping you throughout the week with getting around the Australian circuit and you were very grateful for your fellow teammates' willingness to help.

“I don’t want to walk or move. I don’t want to go anywhere.” You said.

“I could carry you if you’d like.” Carlos said. You shook your head.

“And risk you pulling your stitches? You just got cleared to get back in the car and we both know Ferrari can’t afford to have Bearman drive right now.” You told him.

“Please at least let me carry your stuff or drive you to the track. I'm the whole reason you got hurt.” Carlos said.

“No you're not Carlos. It's my own fault I crashed.” You said. You could tell that Carlos felt guilty about you having to fill in for him and then crashing during the race, but you kept trying to reassure him that injuries like yours came with the job of being a race car driver. The only person to blame for your injury is yourself, not the teammate you were filling in for.

“But if my appendix didn't burst, you wouldn’t have been in the car.” Carlos said. Charles rolled his eyes.

“Ok, the two of you can assign blame all you want for the rest of the day, but right now, we have to get to the paddock.” Charles said. “(Y/N), I will help you get down to the car. Carlos, you can carry her stuff.”

Charles helped you get out of bed and get situated with your crutches while Carlos grabbed your bag and the two helped you get down to the hotel lobby.

~~~

You had barely made it past the paddock entrance and the fan barricades before everything started to hurt. You knew that navigating the paddock was going to be difficult but you didn’t expect to have to stop and rest everytime your hip decided to flare up with pain. You had already told Carlos and Charles to go ahead of you, not wanting to slow them down. They were hesitant to leave you behind, but you assured them that it’s better they make it to the team meeting on time than have them constantly wait for you.

“Hey (Y/N)! How are you doing?” You looked up from leaning on your crutches to see Daniel and Oscar approaching you. They seemed to be in high spirits with it being their home race.

“I’m doing ok. I’m trying to get to the Ferrari garage but I’m having some difficulty.” You said, motioning to your hip.

“Let me help you then. I’ll give you a piggyback and get you there in no time.” Daniel said.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to risk anything before your home race.”

“Nonsense. Plus it’s better than you having to walk all the way on crutches.” Daniel said with a smile that was hard to say no to you. You reluctantly agreed and handed your crutches to Oscar before climbing on Daniel’s back.

“C’mon, I’ll get you to the Ferrari garage.” Daniel said. Oscar followed you two and the three of you started conversing on your expectations for the upcoming race. You did admit to Daniel that the piggyback was much better than walking. Without the crutches, your hands were free to wave to fans as you passed and that helped improve your mood.

“Oh, (Y/N). My gran made these for the McLaren team and I grabbed you one as a get well soon gift.” Oscar said, handing you a nicely wrapped pastry.

“Aww, thanks Osc.” You said. You unwrapped the pastry and took a bite. It was delicious and you smiled.

“Oh my god. Oscar, can your gran send these to me every time I get injured? I can already feel my hip healing.” You said. Oscar chuckled.

“I’ll let her know you liked them. But promise me you won’t get injured just for the sake of my gran’s baking.” Oscar said.

“I promise.” You told him.

~~~

“What if I don't recover from this?”

It was late at night. You and other drivers were at a club celebrating Carlos’s win, but you had to step out to get some air.

“You will. And after you've recovered, you'll win the next race you're in. It's a basic guarantee now with Carlos’s win.” Lando said, who had decided to join you outside to make sure you were ok.

“I won’t be in another race for a long while. Either Charle’s appendix needs to burst or Kevin needs to get more penalty points for me to be in another race this season.” You said.

“Well with the way Magnussen drives, I think you’ll actually have a shot again this season.” Lando said. The two of you let out small laughs, knowing that statement was sort of true.

“I have to be fully healed before they let me get back into the car.” You said, your smile slowly dropping. “With how everything keeps hurting, especially after physical therapy, I can’t help but feel like that’s not a possibility.”

“Hey, look at me.” Lando moved your head so you could look him in the eyes.

“I know my words can’t automatically heal you, but I need you to know that this pain will eventually pass. You’ll heal, and you’ll get back in that car.” He said. He placed his arm around you and pulled you close to his side without trying to aggravate your injury.

“And when you do get back in that car, you’ll win that race. Proving that nothing can stop you.”

The smile returned to your face and you pulled Lando in for a hug.

“I can feel myself getting better already.”

#f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #platonic grid x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x reader

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south-sea · 8 months

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provided nothing else goes catastrophically wrong, i am officially back in business ✌️

#new laptop was corrupted upon arrival and i had to reset it manually after hours of troubleshooting #and i had a minor procedure last monday #the recovery has been significantly more difficult than the literal major surgeries i’ve had #i’m still not even fully out of the woods yet but at least the related anxiety is more manageable now #i need one of those Nervous vests like little dogs wear #that’s just been me this whole week during recovery #it’s been. a lot #i need to draw aruna five thousand more times to relax #i'll get to those asks soon-ish #sea talks

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nagmaskarangungo · 1 year

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🎉🎉🎊🎇🎆 WAHOOO 🎆🎇🎊🎉🎉

IM FUCKING BACK OMG!??!?!!?!??!??!?

thank you [tumblr] but also PESTENG YAWA NIMO [tumblr]

#so what happened was that my account got RANDOMLY TERMINATED LOL (how fun 🙃!!! /s)#i'm not gonna regale you the whole story of last week (yet)#(bc i've been TRYING to do that here on the tags but [tumblr] keeps on lagging on me & kept making me accidentally backspace every tag)#so here's the summery of what happened to me for the past week (contradicting what i said two tags earlier but w/e):#got banhammered by mistake #naively wasted time ''''contacting'''' support (I mean that's what they put in the suspension screen so you know)#the next day found the account recovery thing on [tumblr]'s help page #proceeded to NOT look up on what to do & sent two tickets TWICE 🤦🏻‍♀️#later found a tumblrina's actually helpful advice post & found out that all that didn't matter bc #a) it's the weekend for support team so good luck with those automated emails that wont do shit bc #b) my waking hours are closed hours for them & they're open around when i'd go to sleep AND #c) since i've now sent those two tickets (should've been one) i now have to wait about a WEEK just in case they got them but #d) if i'm still terminated after the week. THEN i can send another ticket #so i had to make myself be busy with anything else that's not [tumblr] for a week #during which time i set up alarms for yesterday evening to send a ticket later that night #so the week passed & it was yesterday evening #i was SO READY to do what i planned to do that night #you know what happened? I SLEPT THROUGH THE ALARMS & NEARLY THE ENTIRE NIGHT 🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️🤬🙃😵‍💫#i was LUCKY i woke up at around 4 AND immediately remembered ''OH SHIT THE COMPLAINT!!!''#so i sent it #& as soon as i ooened yt to wait an email was sent #thought it was another automated email so i opened it #but iT WAS AN ACTUAL EMAIL TELLING ME MY ACCOUNT' S BEEN REINSTATED WOOHOO!!!!! 🎉🎊💥🎊🎇😭😭😭😭😭😭#so now I'm back. back from [tumblr] suspension limbo #& EEWWW WHAT'S THIS TUMBLR LIVE SHIT GET THAT OUT OF MY FACE #*proceeds to snooze tumblr live for the week* thank goodness they're gone #kinda funny though since last week when i got back here (before the termination) one of the things on my dash was the whole poll bonanza #(& vanilla extract or whatever)#anyways i can now go back to soaking up the unhinged vibes of this wretched place (affectionate)#babble on the tower

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hungercityhellhound · 2 years

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Things People Don’t Mention About Top Surgery or Mastectomies

There is reluctance to do the surgery if you live alone, even if you have a good support system. One of the most stressful things was the hospital constantly asking about who would be looking after me, picking me up, etc. I really felt the bias towards people who are married and against people who are single. I don’t think it was intentional but it was definitely there. (Please read more about this situation here) That being said you will definitely need a robust support system of some kind to get through everything in the first 4 -8 weeks or more after surgery.

All your pill bottles will have safety caps and you won't have the strength to open them on your own without a lot of struggling.

There are soooo many medications. Take them as prescribed and when they say take the level of pain meds you need to manage your pain, do it. I got opiods and ibuprofen. If the pain is bad 5-7+ on the 1-10 scale take the stronger meds. Pain can slow healing by causing stress on the body.

Drains are a pain in the ass. Every hour pushing the hoses so they don't clog. Major drag but they are very important and if they get clogged it can cause issues

Sleeping sitting up, prepare for this. Lots of pillows or recliner or something. Practice for a week or more before surgery to get used to it.

Sleep as much as you need. Don't feel like you should stay awake or whatever because you are supposed to or it is day time or whatever. Listen to your body.

Drink lots and lots of fluids. You may think you are drinking enough but you probably aren't. The fluid in the drains and the medicines and peeing all the time and sweating from the tight wrap. You need to replace all of this fluid. I think I have been up around 80+ oz the past few days.

The month before and a month after surgery eat a high protein and higher calorie diet. It will help with surgery and recovery. You need the energy and the protein to recover.

Cut out added salt, caffiene, alcohol, and nicotine before surgery and during recovery. All of these can increase fluid retention, slow healing, or be dangerous with the meds.

Your chest will feel very strange. At first you can't feel anything and then the skin feels tight everywhere and still strange. The recovery process feels real weird. Your whole torso feels kind of bizarre and new.

Ask all the questions. No question is stupid. It's trauma to your body ask all the questions. YES all of them.

The tube (intubation) from surgery irritates the throat. Coughing from this sucks so damned much because of the binder and the chest tightness and what not. Find lozenges (Both cough drops and just candy) that you like. I say candy because too many cough drops can upset the stomach and you don't need that after anesthesia and with all the meds. Also get popsicles.

Take everything out of packages you can before surgery. They are damned hard to open. Those paper cartons holding the apple sauce and snapping apart pudding cups and pulling apart pill blister packs.. ugh I should have taken them apart before the surgery.

Scissors are your friend and every package is an enemy. Seriously, get a good pair of scissors for packaging.

Also, skip 2 liters of pop, gallon of milk, etc. They will be too heavy to pick up after surgery. You can be more independent if you get smaller size things.

Timers are your friend. All the phone timers forever. Also, handwritten or some other chart type to keep track of drain cleaning and taking meds. You will be sleepy and forgetful the first few days. Use other things to help you keep track.

Take stock of how your lights go on and off. Can you reach them while pretending you are a T-Rex. If not, especially ceiling fans and that, put long strings on the pulls so that you can operate them while you can't raise your arms.

Also check your doors to make sure they don't stick. You won't be able to tug hard on doors or drawers or whatever.

Get yourself some treats. Food related or clothing or whatever. Treats will help.

Before surgery plan out and prepare at least a week of meals. Be sure to include some that are easy on the stomach like crackers, rice and chicken, etc. Just in case you have stomach upset from the anesthesia or meds. Gentle foods include starches and chicken/tofu that is low fat and low spice so that it is gentle.

Soft fuzz free and easy to get on clothing is essential. I went out and got a couple of those shorts and button down shirt pajama sets. Life savers. Also, get a size or two bigger than usual to accommodate drains and padded bandages and things.

Strange pains, you will probably have them.

Be sure to do the arm exercises as directed by your surgeon and watch your shoulders hunching. The shoulder hunching is from the chest tightness but you don't want your back to start hurting. Try to sit up as straight as you can.

Pump action soap dispensers will be too hard to use the first few days.

Weeks before surgery, start teaching yourself how to do things without your arms; like standing up, getting into and out of bed, squatting, getting up from chairs, etc. Practice doing things with your elbows next to your chest like a t-rex; getting food and drinking, brushing teeth, taking meds, etc This will be very important

I am sure there are more but I thought some of you might benefit from the things I have learned so far from going through surgery.

#Mastectomy #Top Surgery #Trans #Transition #Tips

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cupid-styles · 4 months

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a day in the life (ymls)

it's been awhile since I've posted anything about these cuties so here's a lil blurb!!!!! hope you enjoy :)

word count: 1.3k

content warnings: family stuff, y/n is no longer pregnant BUT there's discussions of her pregnancy, giving birth, and lactating/breastfeeding

ymls masterlist

main masterlist | talk to me

patreon

. . .

Y/N never asked Harry to live with her.

They never had a conversation about it, instead just deciding to go to her house after she and Clementine were released from the hospital because it would likely be easier to recover in her own space — all of her lactation gear was there, along with the three (3!) different pregnancy pillows Harry purchased for her throughout the duration of the pregnancy.

But then he just never… left.

In hindsight, despite neither of them bringing it up, they both recognize that it’s a way past overdue discussion. Someone should’ve been like, “hey, I know we’ve only been dating for like four months or so and we’re having a baby together, but should we live in the same space, maybe? Just for ease of parenting and all that?”.

Surprisingly, though, since Y/N very much appreciates her own room — she didn’t do well in college when she had a roommate in their dorm, and she’s very much an introvert that adores heading home at the end of the long day and simply being alone — she hasn’t completely hated Harry being around all the time. It’s the most that they’ve ever spent time together, a whopping three and a half weeks straight since Clementine was born.

It’s a different kind of time, though, considering a newborn’s schedule is unlike anything else. They alternate between who gets to nap during the day and while Y/N is technically cleared for recovery, she still aches like… well, like she pushed an entire body through her. (Even when she tears up looking at Clementine nearly every day, she still shudders at the thought of giving birth. Harry called it the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and she sincerely wonders if he’s mentally well.)

And somehow, they’ve developed a schedule that works quite well, for now at least. Clementine, their sweet little baby girl, is a decent sleeper. Per all those parenting books Harry obsessed over for nine months, she spends most of her time sleeping, with multiple feeding times throughout the day and night.

When Harry and Y/N both manage to be awake and conscious during the day, they hover over her bassinet — well, formerly in Y/N’s room, but now it seems to be Y/N’s plus Harry’s room? — quietly leaning in to make sure she’s breathing okay, admiring her cute little face, and taking pictures of the adorable onesies Harry puts her in. They have visitors, of course, including both pairs of their parents, siblings, and mutual friends. There’s a lot of crying and smiling and, oddly enough, entertaining, which is silly considering they’re still brand new parents who are working off of two- or three-hour incremental naps.

In terms of their dynamic, things shift slightly, but Y/N is still the grump Harry adores. She’s exhausted, understandably so. The whole breastfeeding thing wreaks havoc on her body and Clementine doesn’t love it, so she tries her best to regularly pump milk for her, but she hates sitting on the couch, asking Harry to turn on some stupid reality show to distract her, and feeling the machine push and prod at her breasts.

“This makes me feel like a cow,” she’d huffed the first time they did it, and it made Harry snort so loud he had to excuse himself from the room.

But Harry… he’s good, even if it’s difficult for Y/N to properly communicate that to him. She knows she got very lucky with him, not just from a partnership standpoint — which, that’s an entirely different conversation that they haven’t gotten to yet — but a parenting one, too. He has no reason to get up with her at 3 am because Clem’s doing her sweet little lamb cries from the corner of their bedroom. Y/N can very easily escape to the room she designated as her nursery months back, where there’s a comfy nursing chair her mother bought her, but instead Harry’s up before Y/N’s eyes are even properly open, gently placing her in her arms and pushing a warm bottle into her hand.

He insists on helping her with every feeding, taking on more diaper changes than Y/N, and even doing his best to take care of her along the way. He helps her into the bath when her bones and joints are too achy to stand in the shower, he never complains about cooking them dinner (if Y/N orders food one more time, she thinks her bank will call her and ask if she’s been taken hostage by one of those ordering apps), and, even with her heightened hormones and emotions, she does indeed cry helplessly, salty tears leaking onto her daughter’s forehead when Harry comes home one day with a bouquet of flowers, a tidy note in the front that says “for my girls”.

It makes him laugh so hard, the sight of his cranky girl in her milk-stained robe standing in the kitchen, gently rocking Clementine as she holds the pretty stems.

“Why are you laughing?” Y/N sniffs, lifting her hand to quickly wipe tears away from her cheeks.

“Because you just look so cute right now,” he says with a grin. He takes the flowers back from her, murmuring out something about putting them in a vase.

“Sometimes I do wonder if you’re certifiably insane.” Y/N mutters, partially to herself. When she glances down at a milk drunk Clem, a smile quirks at the edges of her lips. “What do you think, Clemmie? Is dada crazy?”

Harry knows that this isn’t the traditional family he dreamed about, that having a baby with Y/N was a risk he was only willing to take because he always wanted to be a dad — but shit, he’s so happy.

(Y/N is, too. She’s over the moon, with the way gratitude feels like it fills up her body in a way she’s never experienced before. And she knows she’s awful at expressing her feelings, but when she glances back up at Harry, eyes twinkling with a healthy blush over her cheeks and a smile on her lips, he knows. He just knows.)

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mapiforpresident · 3 months

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32 with Lucy, but completely platonic? so where r is a younger player that just needs some support and Lucy wants to help

nws if you don’t want to do platonic stuff :)

"Why won't you let me in?"

Lucy Bronze x reader (platonic)

warnings: homesickness

summary: You feel homesick after moving to Barcelona

Barcelona had been your dream club since you first started playing football. You grew up wearing the jerseys and watching as many games as you could. That was why, as soon as you received an offer from them, you said yes immediately. You knew leaving Arsenal and saying goodbye to all your teammates would be incredibly difficult, but you could not turn down an offer from Barcelona.

You felt fine the first couple of weeks after you left your home country of England. It had almost felt like going off to another tournament and that you would be back soon. However, after two months, the novelty started to wear off, and you began to feel homesick. You didn't want to worry any of your teammates, especially your English teammates, who you knew would be very concerned if they knew how you were feeling. Lucy had always sort of taken you under her wing, and she did no different at Barcelona. However, now that she was in a newer relationship with Ona, she spent less time with you than she would have liked, and you didn't want to feel like a burden to her.

You had just approached the training grounds in your club-provided car, ready to make your way into training, but you didn't have your usual enthusiasm and energy. Once you stepped onto the grounds, you realized Lucy had been waiting for you by the door, which made you smile a little bit.

"Hey kid, you ready for another day of me running circles around you?" Lucy ruffled your hair a bit as you led the way to the locker room.

"You wish you could keep up with me; you're practically ancient at this point." You opened the locker room door as a bunch of teammates turned to greet you.

"You are getting older, amor; you can't keep up with us younger ones anymore," Ona said as she came and kissed Lucy on the cheek. Lucy playfully frowned but allowed Ona to pull her towards her cubby to get ready. Just like that, you were back to being alone in your thoughts and feeling homesick. You wanted to text Leah, but you didn't want to bother her, knowing she was busy with her own recovery and training, so you kept all your emotions bottled inside.

Throughout training, your teammates were confused why you weren't acting like yourself. Normally, you were off joking with Pina and Patri or getting babied by Ale or Lucy, but instead, you mostly kept to yourself, even partnering up with Ingrid, which Mapi wasn't happy about because you knew she wouldn't ask you any questions.

"You okay, kid? You're not getting sick or anything, are you? You seem exhausted and stuff," Lucy asked as she approached you with a water bottle during a break in training.

"All good, just thinking about how many times I'm going to nutmeg you during the next drill." Lucy gave you a look after you said this, like she knew you were lying, but before she could respond, Ale called out to you, claiming she wanted you on her team for the 5v5.

The rest of practice, Lucy kept an eye on you, realizing more and more how weird you were acting, even saying no to Mapi asking to take you to get ice cream after practice, which you had never done before. She continued to not-so-subtly ask you questions about what's wrong, including if you had gotten enough sleep or if someone had broken up with you, although she had told you that you weren't allowed to date for another ten years anyway. You kept brushing her questions off, claiming that you just needed a nap when you got home, not wanting her to see you break down or be vulnerable, especially in front of the whole team.

Practice had finally ended, and you were thankful you had avoided the questions well enough for Lucy not to drag you back to her apartment, although she knew you didn't like going over there anyway after you caught her and Ona doing not-so-child-friendly things on the couch. You had just packed up all your things, ready to make a beeline to your car and go home so you could finally cry and let all your emotions out and then hopefully take a nap. Just as you were about to grab the last of your things from your cubby to head to your car, you got an Instagram notification. Leah had posted a selfie with a couple of your old Arsenal teammates with the caption "Best teammates in the world. Love playing alongside you guys every day." Normally, you would like it and think it's cute and message Leah about how she was so soft and cheesy, but today it was your final straw.

Your face dropped immediately, and you don't know why, but you bolted out of the room until you got to a secluded hallway where you thought no one would find you, and you just broke down. Sobs racked your body as you wanted nothing more than to be back in your home country with your childhood team. You knew the language, you knew the people, everything was easy and predictable. What you didn't know is that Lucy saw the entire thing from how your face dropped to how you had sprinted out the door. She quickly followed you, knowing you shouldn't be alone right now.

What she saw when she found you broke her heart. She had never seen you look so small and dejected. You were sniffling, now curled in on yourself and slightly rocking.

You glanced up, startled by her sudden presence.

As Lucy approached you, she could see the frustration etched on your face, the weight of uncertainty heavy in your eyes. She stopped in front of you, noticing the way you seemed to be wrestling with something internally.

"Talk to me, bubs," Lucy whispered as she sat down next to you and started to rub your back lightly, something she knew comforted you greatly.

"It's nothing, I'm okay. I think I just need a good nap."

"This is clearly not nothing. You know I won't judge you for anything you say. Do you want me to call Leah?" Lucy said as she continued to rub your back soothingly.

"No, please don't bother her, seriously. It's really not that big of a deal, and you know how worried she gets."

Lucy could sense your reluctance to open up, but she wasn't about to let you push her away. She knew you needed someone to lean on, even if you didn't realize it yourself.

"Hey, it's okay to not be okay," Lucy said gently, her voice filled with understanding. "You don't have to carry this burden alone. We're teammates, we're friends, and we're here for each other."

You continued to just sit there and shake your head, thinking Lucy will just think less of you if she knew you were making all this fuss over just being homesick.

"Why won't you let me in, bubs? It's just me. Let me help you. I'll even come to your apartment, and you can beat me at Mario Kart again." You let out a soft chuckle at this, which made Lucy relax a little bit.

"I... I don't know if I can do this," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm new here, and I just... I feel like I'm drowning, like I don't belong."

"I'm homesick, and all this change was new and exciting at first, but I miss home."

"Oh, bubs, why didn't you say anything sooner? It's completely okay to feel homesick. Barcelona can be a lot. There are so many new people, two new languages, a new style of play. It's completely normal to miss all the things that feel normal and familiar."

"How about this," Lucy continued, her tone gentle yet determined. "I'll call Keira, and she can meet us at your apartment. We'll cook a full English meal, and we can even Facetime Leah and Georgia. We'll have a Lionesses night, just like old times. How does that sound?"

A sense of relief washed over you, knowing that Lucy was there to support you through the tough moments. You nodded gratefully, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Incredible," you whispered, gratitude swelling within you. "Thank you, Lucy. For everything."

With Lucy by your side, ready to help you navigate the challenges of adapting to a new life in Barcelona, you finally felt a glimmer of optimism for the future. And as you leaned into her comforting embrace, you knew that no matter how far from home you were, you had found a true friend in Lucy.

#lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine #woso #fcb femení #woso x reader #fcb femení x reader #fc barcelona femeni #keira walsh #alexia putellas #mapi leon #leah williamson

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outsideratheart · 3 months

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Lucy bronze one where r doesn’t wanna her up for training some fluff. Thanks

I just want to take care of you (Lucy Bronze x reader)

Lucy had promised you she was fine and she said her knee was fine. This was a lie because 4 days after the Chelsea game your girlfriend was in the hospital having surgery.

Before now you trusted her explicitly and for the most part you still do. When it comes to her injury though, you didn’t believe a word that came out of her mouth. You attended every physio appointment and made notes of her progress. You knew what her road to recovery would entail and you knew when she would hopefully get the greenlight.

“Can I join you on your run?” Lucy was moping around the kitchen as you got ready.

“No Lucy, you can’t. You’re on track and I won’t be the reason that changes. I’m meeting Alexia afterwards so I’ll meet you at the training ground” you place a quick kiss on her cheek.

She hated lying to you about her pain and discomfort but she wanted to be the strong powerful person she knew you loved. The reason for the dishonesty was fear and she knew it.

You and Alexia were running a little bit late to training. By the time you get to the pitch, the whole team is already out there. The whole team including Lucy and Frido.

“Love, I know you miss it but you can’t be here. You haven’t been cleared yet”

“I have” Lucy was telling the truth.

“No you haven’t. You aren’t due for clearance until next month”

Lucy grabbed your hand and walked you over to where the physios were speaking to Jona.

“I told you she wouldn’t believe me. Please tell her”

The physios go on to explain how Lucy passed all her tests this morning and that they have cleared her for team training. When you question it they promised that they would keep an eye on her and monitor every move she made.

Training is normally your happy place but not today, today you were filled with worry. You were trying to focus on your own performance but your mind kept straying to Lucy and how she was playing. It was during one counter attack that things got intense. Mapi did a clean tackle and got the ball. Any other day you would praise her but with the speed Lucy was running down the wing, Mapi’s tackle sent her flying.

“Lucy!” You are by her side in seconds “medics!” You begin to panic but Lucy brushes the grass off her knees and stands up as if nothing happened.

“I’m fine, im fine”

There was that word again. Fine. She said that one before.

“Get checked out. If they say you are fine then you can continue”

“Y/N”

“Captains orders!” You snap. It wasn’t a malicious snap but one of concern.

Lucy does in fact get cleared but your head is all over the place so you sit out and watch the team strategically.

Very little is said on the way home and that doesn’t change once you are in your shared apartment.

“Here. Ice it. I’m going for a shower”

“No” Lucy takes the ice off you before pulling you over to the sofa “we are going to talk about what happened today”.

You let out a huff of frustration. You really didn’t want to talk about it, not while you were this worked up. You placed Lucy’s leg on the foot rest and make sure her knee was iced before you started talking.

“You got cleared ahead of schedule. You went down and I panicked. There, end of story”

“There’s more to it than that. You’ve seen me injured before, this time is different”

“Yes, it’s different. Last time you were honest with me. You told me when it got bad and we dealt with it together. This time you lied. You told me you were fine and then you were in the hospital again”

Seeing your girlfriend laying in a hospital bed was never a welcomed sight but this time things felt weird between the two of you.

“It was a small surgery. I didn’t want to worry you”

“Right because look how great that turned out”

“I’ll admit I could have handled it better but I didn’t want you to see me weak”

“Weak? Lucy you are one of the strongest people I know”

“But I wasn’t a few weeks ago. I was hurting and I thought the way for you to still see me as strong was to lie to you” Lucy tried to explain how her mind worked and her reasoning for withholding the truth.

“Let’s get one thing straight. Lying to me is never the answer”

“But—“

“No buts. I don’t like not trusting what you say Lucy. This” you run your hand over her knee and gently stroke her scar “is important and I want you to be honest with me about it. Please please be honest with me Lucy”

“From this moment on I will always tell you the truth, no matter what. Pinky promise” you hold her pinky finger out and waits for you to accept it.

You look at her as if weighing out your options. When you see the look of panic of Lucy’s face you know you’ve waited long enough. You hook your pinkies.

“Now, you said something about a shower” your girlfriend raises her eyebrows playfully.

“How about a bath instead” you suggest.

“Even better”

#woso x reader #Lucy Bronze x reader

323 notes · View notes

astraariel · 8 months

Text

scarlett love

pairing: sanji x fem!reader

summary: you forgot him, chose to let Sanji go, but was that enough? would the universe leave you alone and let you live in peace?

word count: 4.1K

warnings: cursing; spoilers (?) just mention of a character from the whole cake island arc, it’s a modern!au so I don't mention anything about the actual arc!

tags: angst; fluff; hanahaki disease; modern!au; reconciliation; second chances; unrequited turned requited; slight self-hate; happy endings

author’s note: okkkkay here it is. so many of you guys asked for it so here’s pt 2 to eternal snow! I initially wanted to post the mihawk fic first that i'm working on but I can’t finish writing it for the life of me so I decided to work on this one instead lol.

like I mentioned before, this is part 2 to this fic so obvi read that before you read this one!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

They say people who have the surgery are doomed for life.

How could they choose to never love again; how could they deliberately go through with the surgery knowing they would never have those emotions again?

But in actuality, it was the choice of forgetting about that love.

People don’t know the grievances and the strength it takes to choose to forget the love of your life. They don’t know the despair of being in love with someone wholeheartedly knowing they don’t love you back.

That you would never remember those emotions for whom you loved.

You saw it as this: if you couldn’t live to love your person, you wouldn’t bear to love at all.

So in that way, you won.

You gained the power to no longer grieve for your love because you simply couldn’t remember him.

Since hanahaki disease was rare, there weren’t too many recovery patients to base knowledge on since many of the victims chose to die rather than to be saved.

So you were honestly going in blind.

Nami would sometimes ask you if you could remember anything, a nervous look on her face, you knew she remembered your past love, but the doctor had told her to not mention anything to you in your recovery period. You think she asked out of curiosity.

Or maybe fear?

But every time you’d just tell her that you couldn’t, your head would hurt if you thought too hard and too long about who you had lost.

If you could remember specific memories, they weren't fully visualized, they were static, like when an old TV was out of range from the signal and would struggle to picture the channel.

All you could remember was his silhouette, his figure blurry and his name was always on the tip of your tongue but you could never place your finger on it.

You remember during your first check-up, the doctor had asked you if you could describe your past love,

“I'm not sure.”

Your voice had been wobbly like you were on the verge of crying. Tears had pricked your eyes, along with the feeling of not being able to breathe even though those damn flowers were gone.

Not being able to understand why?

That feeling went away a week later.

You laugh at yourself now, chiding yourself for being ridiculous back then.

At what point could you have allowed yourself to be so deeply in love with someone that it was killing you? You could never understand.

It was an absurd, abysmal idea that you had ever gotten to that point.

While the doctor said the following months would be difficult getting used to your new life of having one less emotion, you were fine.

It had helped that Nami had stayed by your side, and when she couldn’t Sanji would.

Sanji was an angel.

He tended to your every need, always made sure you didn’t lift a finger even after you told him multiple times you could do it yourself.

But he always reassured you he didn’t mind.

You were sad to hear that he stopped seeing Pudding. It was honestly too bad because she was good for him, he deserves someone who can love and care for him just as much as he cares for others.

Nevertheless, you were glad he was here for you.

The sound of music playing softly in the background comforts you as you shuffle through your kitchen making dinner.

You and Sanji have recently started having weekly dinners with each other, an idea he came up with.

“We can update each other about our lives, good ole fashion face-to-face interaction.”

“I don’t think my life is going to change too much in the week we don’t see each other, Sanji”

The sound of the door ringing pulls you from your thoughts, drying your hands with a towel, you walk over to the front door.

The cool November breeze greets you as soon as you open the door, Sanji’s figure fills your view.

The coat he’s wearing to protect himself from the wind encapsulates him in a way that makes you smile instinctively, you can see his red ears peeking from under his blond hair.

“Come in, come in, I was just finishing up dinner.”

“Oh, can I help you with anything else?” he offers while shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack beside the front door. “Or are you not allowing me into your kitchen again?” he smirks toward you.

You roll your eyes and scoff, “It’s my turn to make dinner, you cook for a living, it's my time to shine now, dude.” He chuckles and begins to set the table for the two of you.

The warm food fills the plate in your hand, placing it on the counter, you grab another plate. “So, how’s work?”

Sanji grabs both of the plates and brings them to the table, setting them down, he looks back at you. “Ah, the old man’s got me working late most days.”

You smile softly at the scene; since you can remember you and Sanji have been able to work in tandem. Back when Nami first introduced you, it was like a pull connecting the two of you, also guiding and leading the two of you in perfect harmony.

It was nice.

Finishing your dinner, Sanji grabs his cup, “That was delicious, thank you.”

“Well I did have a decent teacher,” you say into the glass smiling, gulping down the liquid you set it back down and look at Sanji.

He goes to say something before he’s interrupted by a cough.

Sanji turns his head and coughs into a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket, he quickly wipes his mouth before looking back at you, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

Shaking your head in acknowledgement you begin cleaning up the dinner table.

“Oh I forgot, I bought flowers, they’re in the living room let me grab them real quick.” Sanji stands quickly.

Turning, you watch him walk away, not catching the lone petal falling out of his pocket.

♡‧₊˚

Vinsmoke Sanji has done a lot of things.

Some of which he regrets, but others he stands by, but there was one that met both criteria.

And that was you.

He was glad he met you, that he was able to spend time being with you, loving you, and knowing that you loved him back.

But he regrets hurting you. He regrets letting himself be temporarily infatuated with Pudding. Sanji had laughed in the face of fate, and in return, he got what he deserved.

His impending end.

The petals had shown up the day you went into the hospital.

While you were given a second chance at life, Sanji had just signed his away.

He remembers the memory of Nami telling him what had happened. He had it permanently seared into his brain, never allowing himself to forget the moment.

Her eyes were red, face hot with anger when she pulled up to his house.

“You absolute idiot.” He hadn’t even fully opened the door before she was swearing at him, cursing him to the ends of the earth over what he had done. “You did this. You caused that pain…if I hadn't found her…,” her hands had started punching his chest.

“She would have been gone, all because of you.”

A part of Sanji died that day.

So when he got the same disease you had, he knew he deserved it.

Wasn’t it only right that he got the same death sentence that almost took you away?

It was slow at first, from what Nami had told him about your situation, Sanji knew this was how it started.

The first few weeks were bearable, he could go about his daily life without causing any suspicion. No one would ask if he was okay or anything, just simply being able to cough into a tissue and discard it quickly.

Then the blossoms came.

After one terrible night of constantly coughing up blood and flower blossoms, Sanji did some research. He knew the full blooms were next along with the finishing blow of the roots. It had only been a month since you had your surgery, and yet his hanahaki was a lot more accelerated in comparison to yours.

A month since he had realized he was deathly in love with you.

But he could bear this burden. Who was he to complain about his death trickling closer than it normally should?

Sanji remembered the moment he realized his disease would finish him more swiftly, that he was faster along than he typically should be; whether it was because the universe knew you could never love him back or it was simply his punishment for what he did.

Probably both.

Even though he knew he could easily fix the problem, he didn't have the right to get a second chance.

How could he?

How long did you spend hiding your condition away, not even when he had broken things off, before then? How long were you hurting because you knew he was lying when he said he loved you?

The gall he would have to have to go through with the surgery?

Absolutely not.

But deep in his heart, he also couldn’t bring himself to forget you. He’d rather be a coward and a liar than choose a life undeserving of him.

He would rather die than forget you, to never be able to love you again would be death itself.

He hated himself for what he did to you. The insolence he had to hurt someone as caring as you, why did he take advantage of that?

He himself every day.

If he had to live with constantly coughing up blood and bending over the toilet puking up flower petals just for you to live your life? Yeah, he could do that. He could live with the pain of knowing that you would never love him back.

That you could never love him back.

It quite literally was in human nature that he would never be saved unless he did the surgery, since you couldn’t even love anyone anymore.

Sanji’s hand lifts his handkerchief up to his mouth, his body heaving with a hard cough of petals.

He sighs.

♡‧₊˚

The TV light shines on both you and Sanji’s forms as the movie comes to an end, the ending credits miniaturizing as the screen recommends a shitty Christmas movie that has the both of you turning to the other.

“That was an unnecessarily long movie.” Sanji’s comment makes you laugh.

“Right? God, it was dragging on for a really long time.” Shaking his head he stands up to place the popcorn bucket on the kitchen counter.

You follow him holding the cups that held lemonade two hours ago. “It’s getting late, I should probably go.”

“Yeah, probably, oh wait-I bought something for you, meant to give it to you when we had dinner at your place but I forgot.” Sanji’s voice trails as he goes off to his bedroom.

You stand there for a couple of minutes before checking the time, “Yo, Sanji, did’ya get lost?” laughing to yourself, you walk over into the bedroom. Your eyes immediately meet Sanji’s form hunched over on the ground.

A gasp falls from your lips as you rush over to him. “Sanji, oh god, are you okay what’s wrong-”

You cut yourself off when you bend down to look at him, there you see a pool of blood on the hardwood floor, petals scattered around the scene with a full flower bloom sitting in his hands.

“What?” you can’t breathe.

Sanji says your name but you don’t hear him, your brows knit together as you look up at him. “I don’t understand why are you coughing up petals?”

No? This couldn’t be happening.

Your heart breaks.

Who did Sanji love so dearly that he was cursed with the same disease that had you in its chokehold not long ago?

You would never wish this on anyone, no one deserved to live through the hurt of having unrequited love.

“You weren’t,” he wipes his mouth, “you weren’t supposed to find out.”

“I don’t-why wouldn't you want to tell me? If anything, I’d be the only person able to understand. Sanji, who is it?” your eyes scan his face.

Sanji’s ragged breathing fills the air between the two of you. “I can’t.”

You furrow your brows even more, shaking your head. “Please just tell me so I can help-”

“You can’t.”

“What do you mean, I can’t? You’re not making sense.”

Sanji closes his eyes. “It’s you.”

You stop breathing, the figure in your memory rushes to the forefront of your brain like a tsunami.

In the past the figure was always blurry, never in frame in your mind, only being able to trace his silhouette, but now it was different.

It was like he was right in front of you like you could smell him, feel his hands in yours, his warmth. Feel his lips against your lips when he-

“It was you.” your voice was quiet, “You were the one I loved.”

His eyes snap at yours, a gasp falling from his lips.

“The person I loved so deeply… that it caused me so much pain.”

And there it was, the fog had been lifted.

“How could I have forgotten?” How ironic the entire thing was.

“Why would I ever forget about my love for you, Sanji?” you look at him, “What grief did you cause me?”

A tidal wave of emotions, affections, all poured out of your soul and into your memories. The months of coughing up petal after petal till they turned to full flower blooms. The fear that a root would pop up once you pulled your tissue from your face.

The pain and the hurt that Sanji had caused you.

The pain of knowing that he didn't love you anymore.

It all came rushing back.

“Why would you keep this from me?” you were getting angry, but was it for the right reason?

Hadn’t you done the same with him? Hadn’t you kept it from all the people you loved as well?

“You know why I went through with the surgery? It wasn’t Nami who made me, well not partially, but why I allowed myself to let her drive me to the hospital was because I didn't want you to suffer.” your eyes were burning, the tears threatening to fall.

“I don't understand?” Of course, he wouldn’t.

“You were obviously unhappy, Sanji. If I removed myself from the equation, it would solve everything and at…at first I thought dying was the solution I really did.” your eyes drop, “And maybe Nami finding me was a saving grace but, I originally wasn't gonna do anything.”

“Week after week, Sanji, I was drowning. I wanted to yell at anyone who would listen and ask why I couldn't have anything, why couldn’t I be happy? That the universe had some sort of fucking vendetta against me.”

“So I decided to let you go, to choose to live a life of unknown heartache, and when I finally thought I had accomplished that. The universe just spits in my face by cursing you.”

“Don’t you see it? We don’t belong together, Sanji.” The anger was gone now, all that was left was emptiness.“We have the signs, we need to heed them and move on.”

Sanji says your name with a plea, but you ignore him. “Just get the surgery, stop hurting the both of us.”

“It does us no good if you're dead.” And with that, you walk out of the bedroom and out the front door.

♡‧₊˚

The quiet murmurs of the newscaster talking about the weather for the week could barely be heard from the running water you were using to wash the dishes.

You haven't seen Sanji in a couple of weeks, not since he announced that you were the one whom he was in love with.

And definitely not since you remembered he was the one whom you had loved before.

And while at first, you were angry. Angry at him for lying and keeping such vital information from you.

It later turned to guilt.

Guilt for getting angry at him. Guilt for causing him pain.

But it wasn’t your fault, it’s not like you chose not to love him, you physically couldn’t anymore. You signed that ability off months ago.

But you also missed him. Since you weren’t talking to him, you weren’t having your weekly dinners or your impromptu movie nights anymore.

You missed just talking to him. You missed the lame jokes he’d tell in hopes of hearing your laugh, that smile he’d get whenever he spoke about a new recipe.

You missed him.

But you were also confused.

After he had revealed that he loved you and you had remembered that your past love was him, it became too much for you to handle.

Glancing at the moon, you dry your hands on a towel and walk into the living room. The weatherman was currently informing you of a chance of rain tomorrow during the already cold late January weather.

Sighing you go to sit down before something catches your eyes. A picture frame that hangs on your wall glints as you walk toward it.

It was a photo of you and Sanji looking at the camera with wide smiles on display from Sanji’s birthday two years prior. On top of your heads sat a birthday hat colored blue for the sea theme your friends had thrown together as a joke for the blonde that year.

You remember how you felt that day, the anxiety of wanting to get Sanji the perfect gift and when he finally opened it, he had hugged you which had you blushing like crazy while you swatted his “thank yous” away.

God, where did this deja vu come from?

It was weird, you weren't sure what it was.

It felt like your entire being was full. Full of intense and overwhelming emotions, an emotion you shouldn't feel. An emotion that was eradicated from your life when you stepped out of that hospital.

But here it was, rearing its big ugly face once again.

For Sanji.

You stumble back as if you had been shocked with electricity.

Looking around your apartment you close your eyes.

How could this happen? Why were you still being punished again?

You had endured the pain, chose to get rid of it and now you’ve been having to live with knowing that Sanji also was experiencing the exact same pain.

Sanji.

How could you have been so cold? Telling him to do the surgery? What was wrong with you?

You missed him. You missed your love for him. The feelings you’d get when he’d look your way. Sanji was your ambrosia and you needed him to survive.

But you didn’t miss how you felt when he chose another over you. Those feelings you wished you hadn’t remembered.

You weren't sure how you were still able to feel Sanji's love. But here you were.

An anomaly that you were.

Guess that shows how deep your love truly was rooted.

How could you have allowed yourself to forget?

The drive to Sanji’s apartment was quiet, opting to not play music or turn the radio on so that you could think clearly with your new (re) developed emotions.

Pulling up to the driveway, you step out of your car. The jacket you have on trapping your heat from the cold winds of the night.

The few steps to the front door felt like a lifetime. The moonlight provided a little comfort to your restless self.

Exhaling, you bring your hand to knock at the door, a small part of you hoping Sanji wasn’t home so you could go home and pretend like nothing happened.

The door swings open revealing Sanji. His eyes were wide like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him.

“Hey…can I come in?” you look up at him expectantly.

“Yeah, yeah come in.” Sending him a quick smile you walk past him and into the living room.

He shuts the door and faces you, you turn and finally get a good look at him in the light.

He looked worse for wear, his eyes had bags under them, a sign he hadn’t been sleeping if at all. Whether that was because of your argument or his condition, you didn't know. One hand was in his pocket and the other was fiddling with his handkerchief.

“How are you…” signaling your hand at him, “I mean physically, how are you? What stage?”

He looks away, “well…I’m still living,” he chuckles quietly.

You sigh.

God the two of you were truly messed up.

“It all came back.”

“What?” he questions.

Your eyes begin to glaze over, “My memories, everything.” you wet your lips, “All of it, Sanji.”

“It just-all came back…on top of our argument, of you telling me you loved me.” Tears fell down your cheeks. “Of how I felt when you were-when you were with Pudding.”

He says your name.

“And I hated it, I hated remembering how I felt, Sanji. I remember pitying myself, wondering what I had done wrong, why you hadn’t loved me anymore,” he says your name again, “but I also remembered how I felt loving you.” you look up at him with your tear-streaked face.

“And I will never regret loving you, not then, definitely not now. I also don’t regret forgetting, because I understand why I did it. I loved you enough to be able to let you go. To be able to know you’ll live your life happily, whether that’s with me or someone else. I didn’t care. Just that you were happy.”

“But I wasn’t-”

You cut him off, “I knew you didn't love me how I loved you, but I still knew you cared. So if I had died, even from death, I would have hated myself for hurting you. So I chose to forget.” you wipe your cheek, “I just wish you had never gotten that godforsaken thing as well.”

“Sanji I…I love you wholeheartedly. You encompass my entire existence. I live for you. Even now, when I didn't remember how I felt for you. It was there. My love for you was still inside. And it always will be. I think even if you hadn’t told me you loved me now, I would have remembered anyway. Simply because that’s who I am, I am my love for you, you consume my entire soul.” You probably looked like a mess.

“You look beautiful.” Did you say that out loud?

You smile softly, “So when you admitted that you loved me, that I was inadvertently hurting you, I couldn’t take it. I had been the monster I sought to eliminate. So I pushed you away.” you sigh, “I pushed you away because I didn't want to go through the same pain again. I was selfish if you had just done the surgery, I'd be able to forget about this again and you wouldn't even remember.” you walk toward Sanji. “I’ve learned that I can’t run away from you anymore. And I’ve realized that I don’t want to lose you again.”

“So let me save you.”

Sanji’s face was red, his eyes were blurry with tears, his fist clenching his handkerchief filled with petals and blooms.

“I’m so sorry.” Sanji’s voice trembles, “I am so sorry, I caused you so much pain, if I could take it back I would. And I don’t even deserve you, I’m not worthy of your love, but if you allow me, let me make it up.”

You close the gap between the two of you and pull his lips toward your own. They’re slightly chapped and both of your guy’s faces are wet but you don’t care. You feel his fingers carding through your hair, pulling you deeper.

This kiss was different from any others before, this one was filled with desire and want but it was also filled with joy and love.

You were finally happy.

You pull away first, breathing heavily and your face flushed, “You already are.”

“I love you so much, please never forget.” you wipe a stray tear, cradling his face.

You want to commit this memory in your brain. No more forgetting, no more letting go. To make sure that for the night, no cough was to be heard, no petal was to be hidden,

just two lovers finally with one another, forever.

#astraariel♡#one piece #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x y/n

481 notes · View notes

mistyresolve · 1 year

Text

| His Foresight - Simon “Ghost” Riley X Medic!Reader (Part 1)

Word Count - 3k

Summary - Doc (y/n) is a medic at a base camp when they meet Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley, when they meet for a second time it is because he’s been injured. During the two weeks it takes him to fully recover they develop an unspoken friendship. Simon’s next assignment is to escort a convoy across enemy lines, which would have been a walk in the park if they weren’t a part of that convoy. Even worse is when his worries and fears become real.

Tags/Warnings - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Trauma, Opioids (they’re prescribed but i just want to add this in case), Slow Burn, Eventual Smut

A/N - im working on part 2 rn but it may take a little time for me to finish and upload but im in the middle of finals and have been busy with studying so please forgive me

Masterlist ❤︎ Tag List Form

The first time Ghost came through your tent he was bringing in his comrade, Soap, for medical attention. It was a gunshot to the arm but nothing detrimental. A clean shot and the bullet had gone right through.

Ghost had remained quiet and observant but answered any questions you had about the wound.

“When did this happen?”

“Half an hour ago. Give or take.”

“Any meds?”

“Shot of adrenalin.”

You had sewen up the gunshot and nursed Soap back to health. However, Mr.MacTavish had been a difficult patient and after a week you discharged him early just to get him out of your hair. On multiple occasions you caught him trying to escape, claiming he was fine and ready for combat at least once a day. Most special ops were deluded like that, most thought they were superhumans. In a way, they kind of were with the speed at which they recovered. You would never tell them that. It would just go to their head.

Your tent has since been upgraded to a deployable field hospital. With a total of 50 beds and 15 staff members.

The second time Ghost made his way your way was on a stretcher. It was a deep and disturbing stab wound to his side, and if it were even an inch deeper it would have punctured his lung. It took you the whole two weeks he needed for recovery to get the full story out of him. Apparently, it was a series of unfortunate events which resulted in a hand-to-hand scrabble. He’d dominated his opponent and came out victorious but not without injury. He’d been all on his own for hours before finally making it to Exfil. In those few hours, he lost a lot of blood and was without any sort of analgesic until he was in the helicopter on his way here. Whatever the field medic had given him for the pain was enough to completely incapacitate the beast of a man. All the same, it was doing its job and controlling the pain. Your team had to do an emergency surgery at the base camp because he wasn’t stable enough for a medivac to a major hospital.

The man was in a foul mood when he awoke the next day. He wasn’t rude and uncivilized, but he made it clear the last place he wanted to be was bedbound in a field hospital. When it was mentioned he was going to be sent back home for recovery, he downright refused.

Strangely enough, it was also the first time you saw his entire face. When he first came in you were so amped on adrenalin and stressed that you didn’t register that his mask had been removed. It was immediately established that no other personnel apart from the small 3-man team already working on him would be allowed to interact with him to ensure his identity remained confidential. It was more for their safety than his if everyone was being candid. Even in his charts any identifiers were redacted and replaced with “John Doe”.

Two days post-op he insisted he be relocated to his barracks because he “could handle his own”. You compromised and told him you’d allow it under the one condition that he lets you come and check on him at least once a day. He did, but he didn’t exactly have a choice either because you would have shown up anyway.

That was where you were right now.

You knocked and waited for a response before letting yourself in, your supplies and kit in hand. It was just after noon when you arrived. You scanned his room. It was clean, almost barren. His blinds were half open, and the window cracked to let in the cool, fresh air. The clothes he was wearing when he came wounded were still in the biohazard bag we gave him when he left. The tray of food on the desk beside his bed was left untouched, and judging by the food variety it was from breakfast.

Upon hearing your arrival Ghost had forced himself into a sitting position. His face flushed with the change of position. His dark eyes were rimmed red from a lack of sleep, and his facial hair was growing. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants with the insignia of his old company and a plain black shirt. The shirt was loose and thin, but it did nothing to hide the muscle hiding underneath.

You rolled your eyes, blew out a breath, tossed your bag onto the bed beside him and pulled out the rolling chair at his desk to sit in front of him.

“You look like shit,” you knocked his elbow in a silent demand to lift his arm.

He grimaced but did it without complaint, “Ya, well I feel like shit.”

You lifted his shirt to get a look at the bandage underneath. There wasn’t any shadowing or blood seeping through so you gave him a quick nod before dropping the shirt, “Have you taken anything?”

He jerked his chin to the little orange bottle on his desk, “One of those.”

You picked it up to read the label, Oxycodone 10 mg OD.

“Nice, but you should be taking it with food,” you tilted your head in the direction of the untouched food. He merely shrugged, his eyes weary. His eyes turned the same golden brown of a whiskey glass in the sunlight.

You discreetly took his respiratory rate before moving on, “Any side effects? Nausea? Headache? Upset stomach?”

“Nope,” he said in exasperation. He leaned back onto his elbows, his long body stretching out across the width of the bed with his legs still hung over the side in preparation for you to change his dressings.

You gave him an unimpressed look, before pointing to the garbage bin he had at his bedside. There wasn’t anything in it but it was placed here in preparation, “If you aren’t going to be compliant I’m going to bring you back to the infirmary.”

“It came and went already. I’m fine,” he moved to lift his shirt, hinting at you to hurry up get the dressing change done and leave.

You scooted the chair closer, preparing your materials and supplies on his bedside table. When you removed the bandage and revealed the stitches you clicked your tongue, he hadn’t pulled any of them but the fact that it was still bleeding made it apparent he’d been more active than he should have been.

“How’s it lookin’ down there, Doc?” He rolled, his gaze following your movements with predatory grace. You glowered at the nickname.

You hummed, “Mhm.” and started cleansing the wound with saline before donning gloves and cleaning it more thoroughly. He hissed at the contact and you looked up, he had pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. His body tensed, and his muscles taut. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive. Alluring even. Especially when he was in this position, and had that look on his face.

“Are you going to survive?” You asked pulling back slightly.

“Just cold s’all.”

He made it through the rest of the dressing change without so much as a flinch. In fact, he might have fallen asleep near the end for a second. He didn’t open his eyes until you finished securing the gauze with the last piece of tape. His lids were heavy and his mouth was pulled down into a slight frown.

“You going to eat lunch?” you tugged off your gloves and threw them into the bin beside you.

He nodded sluggishly and laid back on the bed, folding his hands over his abdomen. Maybe the Oxycodone was making him drowsy, but he looked like he desperately needed rest.

“Did you sleep well last night?” You rolled back on the chair, giving him space. He shook his head. You quickly finished cleaning up any remaining supplies or trash before filling out his chart, “Maybe if you didn’t keep reopening your wound you’d be healing faster and sleep better.”

He replied with a quiet, almost boyish chuckle, “I’ve been behaving, don’t worry.”

“You’ve been nothing but extra paperwork,” you retort, tapping his leg with your foot. You stood with a snap of your notebook. “What do you want to drink with your lunch?”

“Just water,” his eyes remained closed and you made your way for the door, bringing his cold breakfast with you.

You returned with a new tray of food, this time you picked foods that would be easy on the stomach. The damn fool must have smelt it as you walked down the hall with it because before you could knock he was opening the door and stepping aside to let you in.

“Such a gentleman,” you tapped his shoulder as you passed.

He seemed to perk up at the brief contact, “As always.”

You placed his tray on the table before picking up your bag to get ready to leave for the day, “Any last request?” When you turned to face him your cheeks heated at the way he regarded you. His face softened, melting into something akin to respect. He was so expressive and you didn’t think he was aware. Perhaps it was because he had grown accustomed to the protection of his mask. You almost didn’t wait for his answer before taking your leave, making an excuse that you needed to report back. You did, but it wasn’t anything urgent, you just needed to get out of his room. Away from him. If only to remember how to breathe.

The process for the following two weeks was the same, only each day you stayed a little longer. You talked a little more. Despite his reputation, he was… normal. He was a little aloof and standoffish at times, and horribly, criminally unfunny, but he grew on you. You were slightly upset and maybe even a little scared you’d never see him again when you officially discharged him. Even worse, you were scared to see him again. Only, every time he returned from a mission he would come to pay you a visit. You might have considered calling him a friend. Might have considered wanting more from him.

Soap would sometimes occupy Simon, having made a connection with you of his own. A different type of connection, but a wholesome one. Soap had made a jest about just recruiting you as the 141’s personal field medic instead of bothering you at work every other week. Simon had shot the idea down like water on a fire, and the topic was never brought up again. He simply stated, “Never letting that happen.”

He had his reservations about you entering an active warzone, let alone going on assignments with a squad like the 141. He’s never outright said it but he developed a soft spot for you. Over the months he had unintentionally carved a hole in his chest just for you; a place where he could protect and watch over you. His fondness for you only made it all the harder when he received the 141’s next assignment. It was a regular convoy escort but he felt sick when he read your name on the list. He even went so far as to double-check the itinerary with Captain Price. Went so far as to try and get you removed from the assignment. When you learnt of what he was doing you cornered him and chewed his head off. You understood his trepidations and his actions, but both of you knew he was out of line when he tried getting you booted from the mission.

The convoy, mainly consisting of medical personnel, equipment, and supplies, would be moving right through enemy lines to get from your current base to a new one a few towns over. It would be dangerous, you weren’t naive, but you were your own person. You were simmering, but you couldn’t help the twinge of regret for yelling at him.

In the days leading up to the mission Simon had grown distant, but remained watchful of you. He kept quiet, but you could see it in the shadow of his eyes, and in the muscles between his shoulders that he had a lot to say.

There was a total of 5 medical personnel that were being transported, yourself included. You would be a vehicle with Butters, who was elected as the head medic for the new base, and your driver was going to be none other than Captain Price.

As everyone was preparing to leave and loading up the last supplies, you caught Price and Simon in a quiet conversation, you couldn’t hear their exchange but you could tell it was heated. Price rolled back on his feet, fixing Simon with a tight-lipped smile before shaking his head. With that Simon backed away from him, pointed a finger at him saying one last thing before he turned and stalked towards the vehicle he would be in, obviously unsatisfied with Prices’ response.

Butters sidled up next to you, his pack slung over his arm and offering you yours in his other hand, “There has been a slight change of plans,” he sighed, “Our voyage is now split into two days, we'll be staying overnight in a town in between. Our route hasn’t been completely cleared yet.”

You turned your attention to him, your brows furrowing, “So they want us to have a sleepover behind enemy lines?” You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it.

Butters shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the turn of events. Butters always seemed to keep his thoughts and feelings close to his chest, but it was clear very little invoked thoughts and emotions out of him. He enlisted when he was 18 years old; he was 32 now with a wife, 3 kids, and another on the way. There was a high probability he would be asking for leave in the next couple of months so he could be there for his next child's birth. It sucked because he was the only other medic you were close with. You’d miss him.

Butters and you jumped into the back seats of one car with Price, you’d be in the middle of the convoy, Ghost, Soap, and another medic in the other would take the rear, and Gaz and Roach would be in another vehicle at the front. There was also a total of five transport trucks. The convoy would be a giant target as we passed through, which is why the 141 was tasked with our protection.

Price explained that the ride would be slow-moving and briefed the two of you on what to expect. He instructed you both to stay alert and that there was a chance of running into a hostile.

The first couple hours were incredibly boring, but Butters alleviated some of it by tasking you with going over the manifestation of everything you guys were hauling with you. You also made conversation with Price about his last leave, he had returned home and “sat on the patio and smoked cigars” for two weeks.

The sound was louder than anything you ever experienced in your life. You didn’t even have time to scream before the force of the detonation knocked you unconscious.

It couldn’t have been longer than a couple of minutes when you finally regained consciousness. The vehicle was now completely upside down, the wheels still spinning as they faced the sky. The seatbelt was the only thing keeping you from landing face-first into shattered glass and rubble.

In front of you, Price was already pulling himself out the window and onto the street. He looked back into the cab and for you and said something.

Nothing was processing right. Not his words. Not your thoughts. Not the sight before you. Everything was foggy, as if it was a dream.

Price reached back for you, bracing you with an arm before releasing your seatbelt. Your knees cracked as they hit the roof, the glass ripping through your uniform. The pain didn’t even register. Price hauled you out with him before going back in for Butters.

Only he didn’t.

Instead, he returned with his gun. Before he could stop you, you crawled back in for Butters to get him yourself.

You froze. There was no saving him. There was almost nothing left.

He was on the same side the anti-vehicle mine went off.

You slowly backed out, shaking your head not believing your own eyes.

Price was crouched beside you, his back to the vehicle, his eyes revealed no emotion.

You looked back down the road you had just come down and the transport truck that was tailing you had stopped before entering the intersection. Beside them was the truck that Ghost and Soap were in. Ghost was jumping out, his gun drawn. Soap slid from the passenger seat to the driver's side. The medic they were escorting jumped out the back and ran for the transport truck.

It was then you noticed that Price was shooting at something down the intersection. You could see the flash as the bullets left the barrel and smell the gunpowder, but you couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t hear anything.

You brushed your fingers to your ear and when you looked at them they came away red. Blood.

The sheer force of the blast ruptured your eardrums.

You watched as Ghost applied suppressing fire and sidestepped in time with the truck as Soap rolled it into the intersection.

Price looked over his shoulder at you, his mouth moving. You could see it in his eyes the moment he connected the dots and caught that you couldn’t hear he turned to Ghost. Who jerked his head towards you and met your gaze. His eyes were wide, panicked. He ditched the cover of the truck and sprinted over while Price took over the covering fire. He slid into you, his gloved finger coming up to grab the sides of your face. He was gentle but urgent as he turned your head from side to side to inspect the damage.

You caught your reflection in one of the side mirrors, and couldn't recognize the person staring back at you. Their expression cataonic. Blood leaked out their ears, down their neck, and blood dripped out of their nose. Their teeth had gone through their bottom lip from the impact of the blast.

A low ringing began as sounds started to come back to you. Then it turned into an agonizing peal like you had stuck your head in a fire alarm. Ghost didn’t give you a chance to cover your ears because he was already pulling you into his chest, pressing one ear into his chest, and covering the other with his free hand. Using his remaining hand he raised his gun and pulled the trigger.

Soap pulled their truck up next to yours, making a barricade with them. He slid out, being careful to keep his head down and ready to join the fight.

Ghost started walking back towards the buildings behind, using his body to shield you from stray bullets. He smelt of gunpowder, sweat, and dust. He smelt familiar. His hard body against yours felt familiar. You felt the reverberation of his voice in his chest as he yelled something. You stumbled back with him as he moved, but he was practically carrying you at this point so you wouldn’t fall. His gun dangled at his hip. Soap was at the door to the nearest building, kicking the door open, the lock shattering.

The ringing in your ears was still present but you make out their muffled yelling as the rest of them filed in. Ghost sat you down at the far wall and behind rows of shelving units. Price and Soap guarded the entrance.

Price started talking into his radio, “Gaz! We got enemy fire coming from southwest of the fire hall. We’re down one and another has been wounded. We are fresh out of wheels, they planted fucking mines,” he yelled into his radio over the sound of oncoming and outgoing gunshots.

“We’re on our way,” Gaz’s voice replied through the Ghost radio that was attached to his shoulder.

Ghost then knelt back down in front of you and swore. His hands shook as he reached for a rectangular pack at his hip, a little red insignia printed on the front. A med-pack. He dumped its contents onto the floor, rummaging through it until he found what he was looking for.

He lifted your leg and started wrapping your thigh, but not before you saw what he was swearing at. There was a two-inch gash in your leg exposing raw flesh and muscle underneath.

“That’s not good,” you breathed. It felt like your throat was torn to shreds; as if you had inhaled the explosion itself.

“You’re fine,” he didn’t look up as he wrapped. It was tight enough that it hurt and you could feel your heartbeat crashing against the pressure. Despite that, the bandage wasn’t going to last.

You choked a laugh, “You might want to get out your, ‘I told you so’s’ while you still can,” You meant for it to come off as nonchalant but your voice quivered.

“You’re fine,” he repeated.

“I left a kit in the back seat,” You sucked in a sharp breath when he pulled the gauze one last time to tie a knot, “I don’t know if it survived though.”

Because it was right next to Butters before the mine tore through the side SUV he was on.

Before I could say another word, Ghost was moving towards the door. Requested for an update, then asked for covering fire before exiting the door. He returned moments later with the kit. When he brought it over he made sure to place it behind him so you couldn’t see the condition of it. You imagined it to be macabre.

As the adrenalin pumping through your body drained it began to tremble, cold rushing into your bones. Blood was already starting to dot the surface of the bandage.

“Powder,” You instructed Ghost. He moved fast, cutting the bandage away with the blade he pulled from its sheath at his thigh, and tearing open the packaging. It was a quick-clotting powder used to stop the bleeding.

You were no doubt in shock because you couldn’t feel the pain anymore. He rewrapped your leg; somehow, it was even tighter than before. You heard Gaz give an update over the radio, asking for more details and you could hear Price relaying the plan.

Your breaths became shallow and sedated, your strength ebbing away. You fought the urge to close your eyes in fear of never opening them again.

Ghost tapped a hand on your cheek, “Don’t be falling asleep on me, now Doc.”

You were barely able to ground out a “Sir, yes, sir,” before your chin hit the front of your chest and succumbed to the darkness pulling at you.

Part 2

Masterlist ❤︎

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #MW2 #mw2 x reader #cod ghost #cod x reader #cod fanfic #soap mctavish #captain price #MistyGhosties

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annabelle--cane · 10 months

Text

okay here's a tma thing that's been bugging me for like three years: I've seen a bunch of people say that jon needed to extract statements in order to live, and thus the others making him stop was equivalent to forcing him to starve to death, so I'd like to say that that isn't actually canon. that idea seems to come from this bit of mag 152:

and he explicitly says that he isn't certain, it just feels that way, and I don't believe we ever actually see an avatar die from starving their patron; we can presume that the alexandrian archivist from mag 53 hadn't fed in nearly two millennia, and it was still alive. this also comes during a short series of episodes where, having accepted that he isn't being puppeted into taking statements, it seems like a part of jon is on-and-off-again trying to come up with other reasons why he actually has to do it (he'll die otherwise, he has to be strong enough to protect the others, it must be harder on him to resist his patron than daisy and melanie with theirs, etc), so I think that colors the way he talks about it. not that I think he's lying or anything, I just think he's subconsciously magnifying any pieces of information that would make him feel better about taking statements again. I don't begrudge him that, because a) like, duh, of course that's his mindset, wouldn't it be yours? and b) he doesn't actually fall off the proverbial wagon at any point, he just thinks himself in miserable circles and feels Bad. but still, I don't think it's a full and accurate assessment.

anyway, the situation we're presented with here is more complex than "it's like making a lion stop eating gazelles," because jon neither kills his victims nor is he in actual immanent danger of death if he doesn't "feed," the real question is of extended pain and suffering. jess tyrell only tells martin about her experience two weeks after it happens, so she may well improve with more time, but as she tells it, jon not only attacked her in public and made her feel perpetually unsafe and paranoid, but he also undid five years of recovery from a traumatic event, making her viscerally re-live it every night so the terror and trauma is always fresh. jon may not die from only reading old statements, but his quality of life nosedives, he gets weak and tired and irritable with no way to ever make it let up, an even more significant problem for him than most people because of the frequency with which superpowered monsters try to kill him and everyone he cares about, and it appears to get gradually worse over time with no plateau. like, I'm not pointing this out to say "jon was complaining about nothing and basira was right to threaten to kill him," his situation was plenty bad as-is and I 100% sympathize with his whole deal, but I think saying "he needed to or he'd die" flattens the conflict and makes it overly neat and digestible.

#tma #marina marvels at life #id in alt text

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seneon · 11 months

Note

me when i remember i can send mashle requests 🙏🏻 bless your soul, sen 🫶🏻 so, since i’m lwky sick how about rayne, lance, orter (and or anyone else you want) taking care of sick reader? they had to find out you were feeling unwell from someone else too 😗

CARE ──── ft. rayne ames, lance crown and orter mádl.

about. hcs of the boys taking care of their sick s/o | gn! reader.

notes. ava you're such a W for this ily bro 🔥 anyway, keep the mashle requests coming i love everyone who requests for them.

RAYNE AMES

— honestly, bro's so worried for you the moment a classmate rushed to his class to tell him abt you. you're also a second year, just different classes from rayne for today. so he excused himself and rushed right to you.

— there at the infirmary, you sat down on the bed, your weakened state piercing rayne's heart. he went to embrace you in a hug and reassure you that everything is going to be ok. then he helped you to your dorm to rest.

— what intrigued everyone the most was how he traded places with your dorm mate for a few days just because he wanted to look after you while you're sick. during those moments, he looked after you. your food, temperature, symptoms, etc. he was there the whole time, even if he went for some certain classes that he wouldn't want to miss. but most of the time, he skipped those classes.

— rayne made sure everything was perfectly to your preferences. and you've been pretty obedient with the medicine too, which you didn't want rayne to worry about anymore further considering how he's skipping classes just to look after and accompany you. so you try your hardest to get well soon.

— he probably prayed to God for your health to get better soon. and when his prayers were heard, rayne is overjoyed and kept thanking God and you for doing such a great job in hanging tight to go through it all.

LANCE CROWN

— it was lemon who informed him about your health. of course, he would keep his calm composure but on the inside, he's really worried and panicking. lance thinks it was his fault for going too hard on you during your sparring session since it was pretty much him using his gravitational magic to defeat you so it most probably caused your dizzy mind and body.

— the type to pay you visits with his other friends, since they're always with him. but he does it alone, he apologises so much and ends up crying then sleeping by the bed.

— your sickness wasn't that serious, it was just a mild fever. so all you needed was rest, medicine, and some of lance's comforting words. he tells you about what happened during school everyday, updating you about his day then listening to yours.

— lance notes down your classes' lessons and notes and gives them to you after the day or during free time. there's some certain lessons that you didn't share with lance and he would go all the way to ask your classmates or self study to write notes for you.

— after you were discharged from the school's hospital, lance helped you slowly recover from school as much as he could. he was gentle with your recovery and wouldn't want anyone or anything to hurt you so he's ALWAYS with you to serve as your temporary guard. he protects you for a whole full week, like a dad.

ORTER MÁDL

— unlike rayne or lance, he doesn't show that he concerns. but deep down, he cares, and he doesn't. orter is like a two way kinda person, which is a bit complicating. so you won't know if he actually cares or not, since he didn't really reacted when the doctor told him about you.

— but, he tries his hardest to make time to visit you at the hospital since he's a busy man as divine visionary. once he found out that the hospital you were admitted in gives shitty low-class treatment, he immediately demanded for you to be transferred to the best hospital in the country.

— orter manages to get other divine visionaries to sub for his missions and duties so he could be with you and help look after you. the simple feeling and thought of you being alone in a big hospital gives him an unsettling worry so he decides to be there for you.

— he's the smart type of guy, so he does everything logically. if you don't want to take your meds, he'd just drink it, hold it using it tongue, kiss you and force you you to swallow it by covering your nose. pretty comical actually, how'd he tries showing you care but ends up screwing some of it up.

— it's ok tho, he's probably just feeling a bit of like a tsundere. he denies your teasing but ends up getting flustered. that would actually help you a lot in your recovery as your gloomy days spent in the hospital was filled with orter's entertainment until you were discharged, all healthy thus giving orter so many kisses which he would awkwardly return one on your lip.

#⋆ ❨ writing ❩ ֢֢֢ ۟#mashle #mashle hcs #rayne ames #rayne ames x reader #lance crown #lance crown x reader #orter madl #orter mádl x reader #mashle imagines #mashle x reader #mashle: magic and muscles #mashle fluff #★ avava

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notsoattractivearenti · 11 months

Text

1+1 = 4 (Mason Mount x Fem!Reader)

WC: 3.0K

Warnings: mention of c-section, post-surgery recovery

A/N: i haven’t written anything since last month and i’ve missed writing so here it is... dad!Mason for me and y'all my loves 🥰🫶🏻 apologies if this isn’t so good lol tbh i wrote this for my own comfort cuz it's been an extremely rough few weeks so i kinda needed this and i’m a huge sucker for my faves as attentive partner and dad fics! not to mention this is officially the longest fic I've written + posted here! hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any grammatical errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

—

You just woke up from a short nap after your C-section. Your baby was not supposed to be born for another month, but when your doctor saw the umbilical cord was wrapped around their neck during ultrasound, they told you and Mason that an emergency C-section had to be done the next day before your baby moved to the birth position. You recalled the day it happened.

—

You were really scared and nervous even though you have given birth before – but your first pregnancy and labor went smoothly so you didn’t exactly anticipate this. Plus, you had never gone through any major surgery your whole life – you just were not ready at all. You wanted another vaginal delivery but since the circumstances changed, you didn’t have a choice and all you cared about was your little one coming into the world safe and sound.

Mason was scared too, but he tried to conceal it from you. He just knew he had to be by your side all the time, as you were about to go through another life-changing moment but not as you planned. He was worried about the baby but even more about you – he felt so helpless because he basically couldn’t do anything but be there for you. If he could, he would make himself be the one who bears the pain instead of you.

On the way home after the checkup, you sat in the passenger seat and just silently stared at the road with your hand resting on top of your belly – subconsciously rubbing it sometimes – while thinking about the sudden news. Mason noticed how quiet you were, and as he drove he grabbed your hand to hold it tight.

“My dear, everything will be okay,” he said softly, “little peanut will be just fine. So will you.”

You sighed. “Maybe you’re right, but Mase...” Your voice was shaky, “I’m terrified. I really am...”

He took his eyes off the road for a second to glance at you, then kissed your hand and rubbed it with his thumbs repeatedly.

“I know, Y/N. But you’re the strongest person I’ve ever known and you’re going to get through this like the badass you are.” He assured you.

“And I will be with you the entire time and take care of you. I promise.” He added.

You smiled a little, still nervous but way less than before. You knew he was also worried yet he still gave you the comfort you needed. That is one of the things about Mason that made you fall in love with him in the first place.

“Also, picture how excited Gem will be when she finds out she’s going to meet her baby sibling soon!”

Before Mason even finished his sentence, the possible scenario was already playing in your head. You looked back to the time you and Mason broke the news to Gemma, your 4 year-old daughter – she screamed then cried out of happiness. She has been so excited to have a little sister or brother since and kept asking when will the baby be born. You could clearly imagine how she would react this time.

“Oh God,” you put your hand on your forehead and jokingly groaned, “she’s going to scream her ass off again isn’t she?”

He shook his head playfully and laughed. “Well that’s my daughter alright!”

—

During the surgery, Mason was sitting next to you the whole time, not wanting to let go of your hand. You were fully conscious since you had regional anesthesia, and to distract yourself from your anxious thoughts you and Mason chatted about the most random things – and it helped calming you down.

You both decided not to find out about your baby’s sex just like when you were pregnant with Gemma. Of course you two were curious, but you wanted to surprise yourselves. A boy or a girl, it doesn't really matter because you will love the baby regardless of the sex.

Suddenly, you both heard the sound of your baby’s cry. The doctor lifted them up so you two could see and excitedly announced, “Congratulations, it’s a girl!”

You and Mason had your mouths wide open and looked at each other immediately once you knew you had another daughter. She came to join your little family sooner than expected, but she was healthy and all your worry was gone in an instant. Mason kissed your forehead and your lips, then whispered to your ears, “Thank you baby, I’m so proud of you.”

The nurse then brought the baby to you so you could see her up close. She put her next to your face, and you could feel tears of happiness streaming down your face – the presence of your newborn girl warmed your heart.

“Hi baby girl,” you tearfully greeted your daughter, “welcome to the world! Mommy loves you so much.”

Mason watched that moment and he was left speechless. He couldn’t stop smiling and crying as he couldn’t find the words to describe the overwhelming joy and immense love he felt at the moment. He was still processing the fact that he had another girl to love for the rest of his life. As he wiped his tears, he quietly whimpered in awe, “she’s so precious… My little peanut.”

—

As you woke up from your nap post surgery, you could feel the anesthesia started to wear off. You moaned and pressed your lips together over the pain you felt on the incision area. You couldn’t really get up because when you tried to move even a little bit, it would hurt so bad. You looked around the hospital room you were in and you saw Mason sitting on the sofa near the window while holding your newborn daughter.

He didn’t take his eyes off of her even for a second, you could tell he was so in love. This reminded you of the day when Gemma was just born – once he held her in his arms, his eyes were locked on her.

You couldn’t stop staring at him as you found this moment so heartwarming and adorable. He then took a quick look at you and when he saw you were awake, a wide smile appeared on his face.

“Oh look, Mommy’s awake,” he said as he got off the sofa to come over to you, “how are you feeling sweetheart?”

“Uh… pain...” You muttered. “But don’t worry, I’m okay.”

“Oh no… I’m sorry, Y/N.” He knitted his eyebrows, the tone of his voice showed how worried he really was. “Tell me what I can do to help ease it. I’ll do anything to make you feel better.”

You smiled as his hand was stroking your arm.

“Thank you love,” you said to Mason, “but let’s just wait for the nurse. With you two here with me right now I can handle this pain.”

“By the way… Can you stop hogging my baby and hand her over to her mom?” You jokingly asked him.

“Oops, sorry!” He laughed while gently putting her on your side.

—

Few hours later, the nurse suggested you get out of bed and try walking around for a bit. Even though you were still experiencing discomfort, you gladly took her suggestion as you didn’t like laying in the bed for too long. Mason, who wasn’t fond of the idea, expressed his concern to the nurse.

“Ma’am, are you sure it’s okay? The wound on my wife’s stomach is still fresh… Isn’t it too soon?”

“Sir, I get your concern and I can guarantee you it is necessary as it is a part of the recovery. Moving around after the surgery helps the recovery process. Don’t need to worry, we’ll check in on you every so often. If you need anything, you can call us by pushing the button next to the bed.” The nurse explained to both of you in a calm manner.

Mason sighed in relief and nodded.

“Thank you,” you said to the nurse, “this is my first time going through a C-section and my husband and I have been very anxious about it. Not to mention this was unplanned so we didn’t exactly come prepared.”

“Understandable. It is normal to feel nervous, Ma’am. We are happy to help.” The nurse acknowledged your worries.

As soon as the nurse left the room, you tried to get out of bed and grimaced while one of your hands was on your wound area. Mason was getting you a glass of water when he saw you – fright was written all over his face immediately.

“Baby!” He spontaneously yelled as he rushed over to your side and helped you. out.

“Ssshh, Mase, I’m alright,” you put your arm around his neck and tried to soothe him, “just want to get up, that's all.”

“Don’t be so stubborn!” He was shaking a little – he felt a genuine fear. “My God, Y/N, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Oh please, don’t be a drama queen,” you couldn’t help but make fun of his reaction. “I said I’m alright, hahaha!”

He playfully rolled his eyes in response. You laughed at him and suddenly felt stabbing pain on your wound.

“Ouch!” You shouted. “Man, I can't even laugh without feeling pain!”

“Well, I’m glad you were amused but I guess no more comedy for a while for you, Mrs. Mount.” he said as he stroked your back.

Mason gently supported your body and carefully assisted you on taking your first steps post surgery. You squeezed your eyes, ground your teeth and winced as you were still experiencing the sharp pain – especially when you moved. Mason’s heart ached seeing you struggling like this, he felt guilty even but he knew nothing else he could do but support you throughout the recovery.

“Don’t rush it, sweetheart. It hasn’t been 12 hours after the surgery,” he emphasized. “Just take one little step at the time when you’re ready, okay?”

—

“Baby, Gem is coming here with my parents!” He excitedly shouted from across the room.

Your eyes widened and a squeal left your mouth when you heard that Gemma was coming. As you were in the hospital, Mason’s parents were taking care of her. You have been looking forward to the moment when your girls finally met. She had been impatiently waiting to be able to hold her baby sibling – she even practiced with her doll all the time.

At this point you could stand up, walk, and sit down. The incision still hurt and discomfort came and went all the time but the painkiller was working well and the bliss of having a newborn was able to distract your mind from the pain. Mason had been so attentive to you and always ready to help you. He thought you needed a day to rest, therefore with your permission he respectfully asked everyone – except your parents and siblings – not to pay a visit at the hospital and wait until you all settled at your home instead.

“Where is Gem now? Is she close? Are they here already?” You eagerly asked.

“I don’t know,” he answered, “I’ll call my mum.”

And before he even pressed call, Debbie texted him to let him know they just arrived at the hospital. He was beaming when he saw the text, and passed the news to you.

“They’re here! I’ll go get them,” he said as he kissed your forehead and got out to pick them up.

Trying not to hurt yourself, you didn’t act too excited on the outside but you sure were within. Sitting down on your bed, you pulled the baby crib closer and carefully picked her up.

“Hey little angel,” you whispered softly into her tiny ear, “you’re about to meet your big sister. She’s been waiting for you… You’re going to love her as much as she loves you.”

She made a slight smile and you noticed that. You chuckled, you thought it was like she was also excited to meet Gemma. You gave little kisses all over her cute face, and as you did that you could feel how you were completely filled with great love and glee – one more girl has stolen your heart.

Suddenly, you heard the door was opened, followed by a little giggle you love so much. Your heart was beating really fast – it was going to be one of the biggest moments in your life – you didn’t know if you could handle your emotions when it happened.

You saw Gemma walking in with one hand holding her dad’s and the other covering her mouth. She looked so eager to finally see her baby sibling – she didn’t know it was a girl beforehand – and you wanted to see how she reacted when she found out she had a sister. Behind them were Debbie and Tony, and Debbie had already started recording with Mason’s phone. Gemma then saw you and excitedly yelled, “Mommy!”

You giggled and waved at her in response.

“Do you want to sit next to Mommy and baby peanut, Gem?” Mason gently asked her.

“Yes Daddy! I want to see my baby peanut now!” She responded impatiently.

Mason picked her up and sat her down next to you. When she saw her sister up close, she squealed and said “Wow, baby peanut is so small and cute!”

You introduced your firstborn to your newborn.

“Gemma, meet Iris…”

She gasped and looked at both you and Mason in disbelief.

“You have a sister, Gem!” Mason cheered.

Gemma was so happy to have a sister and she started to cry. You might have pictured this beautiful moment in your head before but what really happened was a lot better than you had imagined. It was quite overwhelming to see how emotional she was and you eventually cried as well. Mason was really touched, almost shed a tear when he saw how you and Gemma were crying. He immediately grabbed some tissues from his pocket – he was aware this was going to happen – to wipe the tears off his girls’ faces.

“Mommy… Can I hold Iris?” Gemma nervously asked, her big brown eyes were still watery but you could see the sparkles of joy in them.

“Of course, sweetie.”

You carefully handed Iris onto Gemma’s lap, teaching her how to support Iris’ little body. She was so gentle and cautious, uneasy at first as if she was afraid to hurt Iris. Mason tried to ease her since he got how nervous Gemma was – he kissed the top of her head over and over again while assuring her that she was doing fine holding her sister – and it worked out even though it took a while.

Finally feeling comfortable, Gemma gently let go of one of her hands and started caressing Iris’ cheeks. Her eyes were locked in just like his dad earlier, and you just knew she was so deeply in love with her little sister.

“She’s so beautiful, isn’t she, Gem?” Mason was beaming in awe and Gemma nodded in agreement.

Both Gemma and Mason showered Iris with kisses. The immense amount of love Iris was getting made your heart soar. You looked at your husband and your girls and thought to yourself: how did I get so lucky?

Mason then gave you a quick but passionate kiss on your lips. He looked deeply into your eyes and expressed his gratitude and appreciation for you.

“Y/N, the way you had to bear the pain to bring me two amazing kids to our life is unbelievable. You are the most incredible woman and I can never thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me, for us… I’m so lucky to have you as my wife and the mother of our girls. I will always try to make you happy, feel loved and give you everything you need and deserve because you have given me the life I’ve always dreamed of…”

You had no words and were about to cry again. You pulled him closer and pressed your lips against his – it was a moment full of tenderness and sweet affection. As your lips parted, you two whispered “I love you” to one another.

Debbie – who was still recording – and Tony were also emotional although they were trying to keep themselves together because they thought they didn’t want to ruin the beautiful moment between your little family. You then asked the grandparents to come see the newest addition to the Mount family.

“Iris Mount… Such a beautiful name, Y/N!” Tony complimented.

“That’s perfect for her! Thank you, Y/N, for giving us wonderful grandkids!” Debbie chimed in and gave you a hug.

“Uh, Mum… I contributed too, you know. Why don’t I get a thank-you? ” Mason jokingly protested.

“Yes but you weren’t the one who carried them for months and gave birth, were you?” Debbie lightheartedly replied.

You chuckled at their banter – you held yourself back from laughing as usual because it would hurt you.

With his mother clearly winning the argument, Mason humorously backed out, pouted then stated his closing statement.

“That’s true. But Y/N and I do make the most beautiful babies.”

Debbie and Tony couldn’t help but laugh at his comeback.

—

Yes, he might not be the one who was pregnant and given birth, but he has always been an amazing and present father to Gemma. No matter how tight his schedule could be, he would always make time for her daughter. He might have missed a few milestones that happened unexpectedly but other than those he never wanted to miss out so much on his daughter’s life. When he was out of town for away games, he always asked for daily updates on Gemma and called you on Facetime in every chance he got.

Mason is an ultimate girl dad and takes great pride in it. He would dress up as princess wearing a tiara and Gemma’s little dress that barely fits him and have a tea party with her, buy a makeup set she asked for, and sometimes he would show up at training wearing a headband with the biggest bow on his head because Gemma put it on him before he left. He always said he loves being a girl dad and would do it all over again – now he really gets to do it all over again…

—

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @masonspulisic @swimmingismywholelife @chelseagirl98 @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @mortirolo @masonsrem

#mason mount #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x fem!reader #mason mount x reader #mason mount fic #mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagines #mason mount fluff #footballer imagines #footballer fanfic #footballer fic #footballer fluff

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heartfullofleeches · 2 years

Text

Yandere Childhood Friend x Monster Reader (G.nxG.n)

A.N: This was supposed to be a little blurb but I got carried away

Word Count: 1.9k

They couldn't sleep. The sound of coins wedging through a slot echoed down the hall and into their once quiet room. All the child wanted was to get a much rest as they could to speed up their recovery. They had picked at their blisters so much that it lead to them becoming open wounds: earning the child an elongated stay at the local children's hospital.

Weeks prior, they had fallen victim to a fire apparently caused by faulty wiring in their grandparents old home. Their parents were able to get them out safety, but not without a cost. The skin on their left shoulder and upper back had been burnt away, leaving them with a wide spread, still healing scar. After the initial incident, the child was just bored of their surroundings and wanted to go home. Their parents had promided them if they just rested they could recover quicker - a feat that seemed impossible with that damned noise repeating in their head.

Already troubled by a headache, little Quinn Cooper begrudgingly climbed out of bed to see what was going on. Either the machine was broken and kept spitting out coins, or someone was buying enough treats for the whole hospital. They wrap the thin sheets around themselves and creep towards the door. Poking their head out, they could make out the soft light of the vending machine and the figure hulled below it - wearing the same gown as them.

Quinn shuffles over. As they approach, they can see that the machine is nearly empty and hear the crinkle of wrappers. They grow anxious as they finally come to a stop, looking down at the other child surrounded by a pile of discarded food. They were small; smaller than Quinn themselves who was the shortest kid in their class. Bandages poked from beneath their dress and wrapping around the entirety of their body beside their face. Their movements suddenly come to a halt - limbs twitching as they sniff the air.

The other child stares up at Quinn with large eyes. The lights beside them make their skin luminous. They remain silent, chewing on whatever was in their mouth. The machine finishes processing the most recent command as the two lock eyes. The child turns; reaching into the machine to retrieve the packet of powdered donuts, but instead of ripping the package open with their teeth like ones before it - they offer them to Quinn.

"You hungry too?"

Quinn's exhaustion turns into curiosity. "...What are you doing out here so late?"

"The food they gave me wasn't enough. It tasted funny, but I ate it all and I'm still hungry. They said I could use this thing until I got full.

Quinn glances at their bandages. "What happened to you?"

The child shies away, rubbing their wrist. "I'm... growing, but not like everyone else does. It's too fast... parts of me can't handle it and my skin tears sometimes....It hurts"

Quinn can see tears in their eyes as they mutter. "... please don't stare."

They swallow hard. Quinn had never been one to care much for others, not even their relatives, but they felt something looking into that child's sad, large eyes. They pulls the sheet from around themselves and tuck it over their shoulders. The child flinches, but grows calm as they wipe their face with the cloth."

"What's your name?"

You sniffle. "...Y/n."

That moment forward, the two of you were inseparable during their short stay. Quinn had never had a best friend before then, but they were proud to say that you were theirs. They snuck pudding cups from their meals and comforted you when you had your growing pains. From what they had seen, it was really taxing on you. You lost three sets of baby teeth and outgrew a few gowns, but you still remained small. They chalked it up to some strange medical condition and never pressed you on the matter.

Despite your limited mobility, those were the best years of Quinn's life. What started out as a need to protect someone lower became so much more. They needed to protect you - because they didn't know what they'd do with themselves if you got hurt. You were always so kind and caring to anyone you met. They wished they could be like you, but that generosity was a big weakness. They'd be your shield for as long as possible.

The day of their discharge was like to Quinn's back. You both promised to meet again in the future, if not somewhere before then. Quinn managed to sneak back on your floor one final time after their departure, bringing a camera with them. It would be their souvenir of your friendship along with the wrapper of the first treat you have them. A beautiful memory, even with the shadow that lingered behind you in the final piece.

A decade later, Quinn still thought about you on those lonely nights. Scouring the internet, they held onto that photo looking for anyone who resembled you. They never thought to get your last name, and the hospital wouldn't hand it over even with the background of their inherited occupation. It was more than searching for a little crush, but the yearning for their soul mate. As time ticked on they began to loss hope - until the day they received a lone message one late afternoon.

"Hello?"

It was from a number they didn't recognize. Not uncommon, but usually they left a little more than that.

"What do you want?"

"This is Quinn right? Quinn Cooper, who was hospitalize at nine after an accidental fire at your grandparents?"

Quinn doesn't like were this conversation is going. Especially after finding out that fire wasn't so accidentally.

"Who's asking?"

The person doesn't reply for a while.

"It's me... Y/n."

Quinn nearly drops their phone.

"How did you get this number?"

"I heard people taking about some sort of... cleaning business with that name, and just hoped that it was my old friend. I'm sorry, I'll leave you alone."

"No.. I'm that Quinn. Your Quinn. Can... can we talk on the phone?"

"I'm a little nervous... but we can if you make the call."

Quinn immediately dials the number. The first call goes dead, but they try again and this time- someone answers. Quinn's voice quivers.

"Hi, Quincy. It's good to hear your voice."

It's you. Oh God. It's you. You're the only person they ever let call them by their full name. Your voice is scratcher than they remember, but it's still the sweetest melody to them. They wipe their tears as they speak.

"Hey, Y/n. It's good to hear you too."

You make up for lost time after that; the bond you share as strong as it had been before. Not a day goes by without some kind of contact. They're too afraid to lose lose to let that happen. They keep you I'm the dark about their job, but send you pictures of themselves in every field outside of it. You send some too. You've definitely grown a lot since you were a kid, but they could tell this pictures were from yours teens. Your skin also seemed to be paler than normal - almost grey.

More oddities appeared shortly after. You never sent any recent pictures, and dodged the question when they asked for a video call. There was no doubt in their mind that it was you, but what did you have to hide? Soon, the occasional call or text wasn't enough for them. They had to see you in person.

"Y/n?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's...meet up.."

The line goes quiet for long enough they fear you hung up. "I've changed, Quinn."

"That doesn't matter. You'll always be that kid I used to know. The one I've always cared about."

"Can you promise you won't hate me?"

"I could never, Y/n."

"Okay."

Quinn stands outside of a small diner as they wait for you. They wonder if they're overdressed for such a place, and if they're under in regardless to impressing you. They contemplate tossing the roses and sweets they bought for you. Would they make them look like they were trying to hard, or was it just the right thing to get your attention. The biggest thought on their mind was what you looked like now. They knew you'd be beautiful no matter what - but what they got was something they never expected.

"Quinn?"

Their heart explodes at the sound of your voice. Footsteps tell them you've approached and were standing behind them, but they couldn't bring themselves to look. It was like a dream. How did you even get behind them without them noticing? They take a breath, lift their presents up high, and turn to face you - bumping face first into the torso of the creature with your voice.

You were tall. Street lamp tall. If they had to measure, Quinn would've suspected you were at least eight feet tall. Your body was covered in dark clothing from head to toe, but they could see claws poking from your gloves and your jagged teeth over your scarf as you spoke. Your skin was a few shades shy of onyx, textured in a way that it reflected the nature lights that gave it a blue shine. Quinn's jaw is left on the floor, hand reaching towards their back pocket.

They knew it was too good to be true. It was all some - sick twisted trap by whatever this thing wearing your face was. Even if it did resembled you. Even if their heart did beat a little faster at those glossy eyes - they'd make it pay. Quinn is ready to go in for the kill when it reaches into its pocket, pulling out a single package of powdered donuts. You chuckle bashfully.

"I... hope this is enough to excuse why I've been avoiding this. I'm sure you can see why I have. Apparently, I was never human. They.. don't even know what I am honestly. I thought with this new hairstyle, and seeing me in this clothes, and my appearance as a whole you wouldn't recognize me and you'd hate me, but I've missed you so much too."

Black tears stream down your face." I've been so lonely.. I've always thought of you since they took me from the hospital. I made a bracket out of your hospital band."

You lift your arm to show a beaded bracklet with Quinn's hospital tag wrapped around its string. You begged them for it when you left. There's not a drop of blood on it. The rational part of Quinn's brain tells them your lying, but the suckered in them crumbles seeing you cry - sniffling just as you did back then. They let go of their knife.

"Hey... it's okay." Quinn cautiously approaches you. They barely reach below your chest. They wrap their arms around your tree trunk of a torso, doing their best to comfort you. You try not to burst into tears as they embrace you. Quinn hushes you, rubbing circle into your spine. They have no idea what the hell is going on, but they know for sure now that it's you; and they'll protect like their life depends on it. From themselves, and all the others in their current line of work.

#Monster reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere x you #yandere imagines #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere drabble #yandere writing #yandere blurb #yandere fic #yandere post

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slutforpringles · 8 months

Text

"I take this as confirmation of Daniel. Ultimately, I have reason to believe that he signed that contract [for 2024] at Silverstone a couple of days after the British Grand Prix. I think it was locked in at that point, having spoken to his manager a few times during that period, although Blake would never tell me. Yeah, all I’ll say is that his dentist does an excellent job because he did a lot of smiling. Must have taken a leaf out of Daniel's book on that one. But yeah, there was quiet confidence there for a long time, but it was great that we have that confirmation now.

And it also explains why Red Bull has not been in a hurry, why Daniel hasn't been in a hurry to jump back in that car and to really rush things with his recovery because he's never needed to. He's confident in that he knows his future. Right now, the best thing that he can do is put himself in the shop window next year. This year doesn't matter. So just get yourself right, get yourself back to full fitness, or very close to it, so that anything that's happening in his hand doesn't impact his driving, doesn't detract from his driving, because doing that, all he's doing is setting himself up to make that job harder. His sole job now is to impress Helmut Marko and Christian Horner to the point where it's a no-brainer for them come this time next year. Yeah, that's his sole job. He doesn't need to do anything else, everything else between now and then is a bonus."

-Mat Coch on Speedcafe's Pit Talk Podcast | Oscar Piastri's big week ends on the podium; Red Bull Racing wins the teams title: Japanese GP review

The hilariousness that the collective meltdown over Daniel getting one of the AT seats when it was announced last week was all for nothing - since it turns out he most likely signed for 2024 back in July so it's literally been his seat all along (as most of ricnation have been saying this whole time). Also YAY for Blake!! We stan Daniel's stage mum/boss/minder.

#daniel ricciardo #dr3 #f1 #redbullf1 #british gp 2023

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tr-mha-fan · 24 days

Note

At first please excuse my bad english. But I wanted to ask if you can write a oneshot/headcone about bakugo in which the reader get hurt and he is afraid to loose her. Thank you ^^

And by the way I really like your writing style:)

Awwww! Thanks Anon! This is kind of my first real request, so Im happy! Here😉

⚠️TW⚠️: mentions of injury, death, depression, sh, and su/c/de(these will be italicized, so feel free to read)

Bakugou when his S/O gets hurt

You two are in a battle against villains

You get hurt when you were fighting 3 villains at once, on your own

You lose consciousness and are now in a coma

the doctors don't know when you'll wake up

Bakugou blames himself for not protecting you correctly

He stays by your side the whole time

Sleeps in the hospital, on a chair, his head on your bed

Has nightmares of the moment when you got stabbed

He talks in his nightmares, his voice wavering and quivering

"Don't leave me, please..."

"I can't live without you!"

Cries when he's alone in your hospital room with you, eyeing your sleeping state, noticing how peaceful you look

When you wake up, he starts crying, no matter who else is in the room with y'all

He clings to you like a little child does to his mother

Doesn't leave your side AT ALL during your 2 week recovery stay in the hospital unless you're going to the bathroom

When you're released, he doesn't let you do ANYTHING

Carries everything for you, even your school bag

When you're going somewhere he has to carry you AT LEAST half the way (whether it's bridal style or piggy back)

Once you're good enough to start training again, he convinces Aizawa-sensei to put you against the weakest classmates

Makes sure everyone goes easy on you until you're fully recovered

If you guys have to fight real life villains again (I mean, this is class 1a, of course they're gonna fight real villains) he stays beside you the whole entire fight, making sure you don't get hurt again

Now, if instead, you don't survive (if you get triggered by the TW's at the beginning, I advise you don't read this part)

When your heart monitor flatlines, he goes into a state of denial

Tears start streaming down his cheeks without him even noticing

The doctors rush in to see what's wrong

Bakugou starts blaming the doctors, saying they didn't do enough to save you

He falls to his knees, burying his face in his hands as he bawls, now blaming himself for not protecting you

He refuses to leave your body, even when his mom tries to pull him out the room

He gets severely depressed

Doesn't talk to anyone, not during classes, training, or just regular days

Everyone else is also affected by your death, but Katsuki is 100x worse

All your other classmates (specifically the Bakusquad) try to cheer him up, despite their own pain

Bakugou loses it, and starts self harming, blaming himself for your death, that if he had been a better boyfriend, you wouldn't have died

After a short while, two months tobe exact, he has had enough

He decides to end it, jumping off the roof in the middle of the night

Well hello there hoomans, I hope you enjoyed, and once again, Thanks anon! As you can see, I love angst, so I put that angstier ending, hehe 😈

Kazurora out!

#Mha #Bnha #Mha x reader #Bnha x reader #Bakugou #Katsuki #Bakugou angst #Angst #Bakugou katsuki #Bakugou x reader #Bakugou x yn #Bakugou x you #Katsuki x reader #Katsuki x yn #Katsuki x you #Mha angst #Bnha angst

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imliketheiceifreeze · 1 year

Text

Norman Nordstrom x reader

A rose by any other name-part one

warnings: violence, eventual smut, age gap, possible abusive relationship, slight stalking, minors DNI

945 words

[Just a short story, not sure where it's going yet lol]

Master list:

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

You walked passed the house once again. You would never admit to anyone the purposeful detour you took in hopes of seeing him. Norman Nordstrom, you thought his name was, whenever your eyes laid upon him he would be tending to the flowers at his border, or walking his dog around the yard. The poor man had lost his eyesight in the Gulf war, not shortly after he lost his whole family due to a reckless drunk driver. You weren't sure why you felt this pull to the old man, easily old enough to be your grandfather, yet you couldn't deny the dreams that came to you during lonely nights and your cheeks burned as you turned away from the house, a small smile dusting your lips.

Strange, the door seemed open but you couldn't see Norman or his dog anywhere. Should you investigate? I mean what sort of person wouldn't check on a vulnerable blind man? That was the justification you used at least when you ventured towards the open door of the house of a man you had never so much as spoken to.

"Hello. Is everything okay? I was just walking passed and noticed your door was open,"

you called into the house as you poked your head round the door. Your voiced trailed off into a gasp as you noticed the man curled up on the floor, blood pouring from his right side as he gasped for air.

"Oh my goodness,"

you murmured as you rushed to his side, falling to your knees as you fumbled with your phone.

"Sir? What happened?"

He barely acknowledged your presence, only wheezing and clutching at his side.

"You need to keep pressure on the wound,"

you mumbled as you pressed your hands above his, feebly attempting to stop the flow of blood as you clumsily punched the three magic numbers into your phone with the other hand.

"Shot,"

He managed between gasps as he finally seemed to register you.

"You were shot? Okay don't worry, I'm calling for help, you're going to be okay,"

you spoke firmly, looking him dead in the eye, even though you knew he wouldn't be able to see your determined expression. You couldn't help but rub your thumb reassuringly over his hand as you turned your attention back to the phone.

"Yes please help, a man's been shot, he's losing a lot of blood, please."

You were on the verge of tears from the stress as the dispatcher attempted to calm you.

"We'll be there soon, just keep pressure on the wound, is the victim responsive?"

You couldn't remember anything after this, only concentrating on Norman, watching the life fade from his face as tears dripped down your cheeks.

"Don't let go, please stay with me Norman, stay with me."

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

"News is with us that visually impaired war veteran, Norman Nordstrom, has been the victim of a vicious home invasion. However, he is stable, suffering only minor injuries, and should be making a full recovery."

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

One week later

You sat in the hospital waiting room, heart beating out of your chest, clammy hands fiddling with the flimsy petals of the flowers you'd stupidly brought with you as some kind of get well soon gift. You felt so out of place.

"Y/N."

You jumped to your feet, flattening the creases in your clothes, before making your way over to the nurse.

"He's ready to see you dear, just follow me."

Wordlessly, you shadowed her to the outside of a private room.

"He's just in there."

She spoke so softly, as if she were worried her words might break you. You smiled nervously in her direction before pushing down on the handle, entering the room slowly.

"Hi, Norman?"

Your voice trembled

"and who the hell are you?"

His words cut through you like ice, chilling you to the core. You knew this was stupid, this is what always happens, how could you have been so fucking moronic.

"Well?" His gravelly voice ran shivers up your spine,

"I, uh, well I was there when you were shot, I mean I found you, and I just wanted to uh bring you these,"

you squeaked out, moving closer to the bed and pressing the flowers gingerly into one of his hands. His gaze seemed to soften at your words as he brought the flowers to his other hand, inspecting the petals.

"You brought these for me?"

He seemed bewildered

"I know you can't see them but I always notice you tending to the flowers in your garden and I thought maybe they'd remind you of home, I don't know, it's stupid..."

You trailed off. a small smiled tickled the sides of his mouth as he replied

"Have you been watching me?"

"I live a few houses down, I just walk past from time to time, I'm sorry I never said hello."

"Well thank you... what's your name then? I assume you know everything about me from the damned news papers."

There was a twinge of sadness in his gruff voice as he seemed to get lost in thought.

"Its Y/N, Y/N L/N,"

you said softly, eyes trailing across the lines in his handsome face, down to the soft white beard and cracked lips, turned upward at the corners.

"Y/N,"

he repeated you, the sound of your name on his lips making your cheeks warm.

"Well I guess I should go... I hope you get better soon Norman,"

you blabbered as you turned on your heel, practically sprinting out of the door. Norman said nothing as he attempted to quell the possessive feeling burning in the pit of his stomach.

#stephen lang #norman nordstrom x reader #don't breathe #norman nordstorm

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