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chaosandmarigolds · 8 months ago

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Dad!Simon who insisted you go on the vacation, because of course he can handle his baby girl and his six year old (almost six, but Ollie rounds up)

Simon who knew he had it in the bag....

for about two hours

Simon who made bagels for dinner; wassss this close 🤏to making Ollie eat dirt because WHAT DO YOU MEAN you don't like bagels now you were begging for them in the store!

Simon who made it about forty hours before he gave him and called Johnny

Simon who had no idea why Ollie was being so gosh darn annoying

Simon who had previously made a bet with Price that he wouldn't need help so therefore he would rather die than call Price even though Ollie idolizes his 'grandfather'

''s Johnny, missed ya but leave a message at the lil' beep."

"John MacTavish I swear to god if you don' call me back in ten minutes I will personally post thos' pictures of ya in Afgan."

two minutes later-

"ya know that's a real low blow-"

"I need you to take Oliver to th' park- Tessie isn't goin to sleep with him 'roun."

"Call the capn, he's closer to ya."

"I will not do that."

"Ugh, fine- lemme tell my girl then'll be there in twenty."

Simon who told Oliver to behave for his uncle and then happily sent them away- which finally he would be able to put the exhausted newborn to sleep

Simon was finally able to doze off on the sofa, the baby happily snoozing away on his chest and everything seemed perfect with the world

"MISTER RILEY UNCLE JOHNNY IS IS-HES-" The thundering slam of the door being swung open not only woke up Simon but the baby who aptly began to sob to the sudden change of pace, Oliver however did not care "UNCLE JOHNNY SUCKS."

Uncle Johnny told Ollie not to kick the ball into the river

Simon who is flabbergasted because even Johnny looked shook to his core, sure they had been at the park for about five hours but like-???

John MacTavish...brought down .... by Simon's six year old

Simon who, after ten minutes of the baby screaming for their mother and refusing to take their bottle with disgruntled wails of pain and Ollie so tired he can't think straight so he's also a sobbing and angry disaster and Johnny's just standing there by the door waiting for answers and everything is so loud-

"Capn?"

"Oh! Hi, sweetheart," John's wife answered the landline and he could hear her voice call for her husband, "Hi, how are you and lil' ones?"

Simon looked at Ollie who was currently in time out for stealing his sisters binkie for the tenth time, "Not great."

"O-"

"Simon." Price's voice cut in and it took about five seconds to get everything account for, "Ya already called Johnny right?"

"Yessir."

"Did you try Kyle?"

"No sir, he's on his honeymoon."

'"Ah-that's right, that's right."

Silence

"Sir I would like your help."

"Ha! Knew it! Alrighty, missus and I'll be there in...i dunno- you boys hungry? She made that-honey whatcha make?" indistinct conversation, "Ma'am said it didn't matter, she'll bring it anyway. Forty minutes?"

Simon looked at Johnny, who was on 'keep ollie in said time out' picking up the kid whenever he would try and run off. "Can you make it twenty, sir?"

Simon and Johnny who, out of habit, stood at attention as soon at the captain let himself into the house

Simon who looked a bit worse for wear, even with his non existant sleep scheulde in the military he had never looked so fatigued

Simon who had the baby out of his arms by Price's wife within two minutes of them being there

Simon who loves his son, he loves him (internal mantra) but he is making him look bad to his captain so the little twerp better get his act together.

"Riley."

"Yessir."

"How long is your block?"

"Two kilometers around."

"Two laps."

faltering silence through the house, Simon stared at the captain as he helped Ollie tie his sneakers by the door. The silence did mean Tessie had finally fallen asleep but he was- "I'm sorry?"

"Two laps, you, Johnny, and Oliver." Price looked to the kid, who looked more angry at the world than anything else, "Go. Dinner will be ready when you get back."

Simon was about to argue but Ollie beat him to it, "I don't want to run."

"You don't want to run?"

Oliver seemed a bit taken back, "No. So I'm not going to."

"Okay. You can clean the entire house- including your sisters nappy's, for a week, yeah?"

A pause.

"Fine, i'll go on the stupid run."

Simon who might as well be walking with the pace Oliver chose to keep

Johnny who took off sprinting because lord knew that man was starving and Mrs. Price's food was heaven on earth

Simon who sat down on the side of the road when the little guy was out of breath

Simon that mostly ran in silence until Ollie broke it

"Why did mom leave?"

huh?

"What?"

"Mom she-she just...she left us, wh-"

"Whoa-whoa whoa, mum didn't leave-mum didn't leave us wh-whoa, Olls," he had collapsed to his knee when the boy started to speak just to look at him in the eyes and he tried to read the boys expression, "Mum would never leave you, she loves you so much."

"Then where did she go?? Why didn't she say goodbye?"

"She's with her friends, and her flight left 'fore you woke up, Olls. Laddie, she wouldn't leave you."

Simon who had called you, even though there was time difference as everyone was sitting down to eat dinner

"oh...wow the gang's back together," You grumble as you rub your eyes, having been dead asleep, only for the camera angle to change suddenly and it was just a close up angle of your son's face, "Hi baby."

"Mom guess what Uncle Johnny did."

"EY, LET'S NOT TELL YER MOM BOUT THAT."

"Hey mom?" The boy was easily distracted and then looked down at the phone again.

"Yeah baby?"

"Never go on away again, dad said so."

You stay silent for a moment, blinking, because in all three years you and Simon had been together Ollie had never referred to him as 'dad' or anything remotely close. "Your...right, yeah-I'm pretty bored here anyway."

Simon, who was fine with you going on little getaways just not anymore how dare you try and leave him alone

"You sure it's okay if I stay a few more days?"

With a short laugh he looks over the living room, where Johnny and Olls were fast asleep watching some cartoon he didn't know the name of while John and His wife had chosen to stay in the guest room for the night. It would hell if you stayed for a few more days.

"Of course, luv, I got the boys an' Tessie needs to learn who they are anyway."

"I guess. Okay, the ride is here. I love you."

"I love you more."

(annnnway that's it <333 any comments you wanna leave or anything like that makes my day!)

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spideyriki · 7 months ago

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sub kitty hybrid jungwon? or just ignore the hybrid part if ur not comfy!

kitty! jungwon hcs

c. warnings: sub!jungwon, cat hybrid jungwon breeding kink, pegging, collars, scent kink

a. note: my first ask! was genuinely so happy to receive this, trust me i'll remember you, anon, for the rest of my life <3 thank you so much! hope you like this n i'll definitely write a proper full length kitty won fic when i have the time :(

nsfw utc

sfw

being in a relationship with kitty jungwon is like having a personal little shadow, jungwon follows you all over the house and he has to nearly always be touching you, even just simple touches like sitting up really close to you as you both are doing work so your thighs are touching or walking near you so your hands grace eachother.

wonie loves head pats. but only from you. the moment he sees you, he's cutely leaning his head towards you expecting a quick pet as a greeting, his cat ears will twitch happily when you do. one time, jay jokingly reached out to pat jungwon's head after seeing you do it, jungwon quickly swatted his hand away and furrowed his eyebrows to feign annoyance.

jungwon is a huge purrer, he can't help but purr whenever he's around you. especially in the morning, when he wakes up next to you. as he nuzzles up into your neck, his loud content purrs filling the silence.

it's in a cat's nature to gift their owners things and it is no different for cat hybrids. jungwon loves bearing you simple little gifts all the time. nearly every week, a bouquet of flowers will be found in your living room as you come home from work or a new plushie placed neatly in your bed. no matter if there's an occasion or not, jungwon loves giving you gifts.

you know how cats like to disturb you as you work, like for example, sitting on your laptop keyboard and stuff. jungwon is just the same! whenever you are working he likes to curl up next to you and cuddle with you, pleading for you to pet him. if you don't acknowledge it, he'll just get up and sit on your lap until you have no choice but to pay attention to him. purring when you run your fingers through his hair and stroke his cat ears.

but like any other cat, kitty jungwon can get pretty grumpy when he is lacking sleep. when he's sleepy jungwon gets cranky and his responses get pretty sassy. although, when he wakes up energised again, he shyly apologises and nudges his head into you, nosing your neck and purring at you as he bats his pretty long eyelashes so you forgive him.

nsfw

jungwon is obsessed with your scent, like he genuinely believes that you have the most beautiful scent on earth. so, he Loves to eat you out. his face burried deep between your legs and your scent surrounding him. the way your thighs circle his head engulfing him in your scent and your hands gently pat his little cat ears. when you cum, covering his face with your juices, he moans in your pussy and always cums untouched himself.

jungwon loves to be collared during sex (and to be honest even when not). he loves the feeling of ownership you have on him, the mere thought of having you own him makes jungwon orgasm so quickly. so, when he's feeling horny, he will bring you his collar and flash his prettiest eyes and you being you, can never deny him, so you secure the pretty pink collar right above his adam's apple making sure it's not pressing on too tight but just enough to send blood rushing to his needy cock. even the simple feeling of your gentle fingers near his throat makes jungwon whimper.

kitty jungwon loves getting pegged. on all fours, his back arched and tight little hole on display for you. you are always so gentle with him, your hands petting his lower back and massaging the base of his tail which leaves him so needy, his hips start moving back against you so you can fuck into him deeper and reach spots he never even knew existed.

jungwon's tail is really sensitive so when you delicately run your hand over his tail, he will moan out so loud and possibly even cum because the feeling of his tail getting toyed with sends the most pleasurable shivers down his spine. his moans turning into adorable little mewls as you stroke his tail through his orgasm.

when i said jungwon is a big purrer, hes a Purrer. when he's really into it, jungwon will accidentally release a few purrs which gradually increases in volume. he can't help it, you treat him so gently and he's just so content to be with you, even during sex and he just loves you so much he can't help but purr when he's with you.

he is pretty possessive over you. so, when you come home from work and smell like other people or even worse, other hybrids, he will be all over you, grinding his hard on against you when he has the chance, groping you here and there to get your attention. before you leave for work, he will scent you to make sure everyone knows you have a kitten waiting for you at home or on days when you have a little more extra time, he will ride your thigh, his hands roaming wherever he reach and he is continuously mouthing at your neck, leaving his scent for other hybrids to smell and hickeys for regular humans to see, making sure everybody knows you are off limits. he loves the thought that you're his, just as much as he's yours. you are his girlfriend and his owner.

jungwon has the biggest breeding kink especially when he's in heat, he will be crying and begging you to allow him to breed you and fill you up to the brim with his cum. he's aware that you can't actually get pregnant but the thought of you being full of his cum makes him dizzy and it drives him to thrust into you and make you feel good so you will reward him by allowing him to cum inside you. "please let me fill you up with my kittens please, i'll be a good boy, please let me make you a mommy", jungwon would whine out to you. and when he pulls out he's so mesmerised at the sight of his thick white cum spilling out of you and down your thighs, he'll lean down and kitten lick you clean.

jungwon is usually a well behaved boy because he loves how gently you treat him but in the occasional moments where he decides to be a brat, he loves when you punish him by attaching a leash to his collar and pulling on it to choke him as you fuck into him from the back. his choked out moans and whimpers only fuel you to go rougher on him until he is crying out and pretty tears are falling over his pink cheeks. his little collar bell jingling from the force of your rough thrusts.

all in all, jungwon is (mostly) your good little kitten and he loves you so much!!

jungwon is so orange kitty, i love him :')

#ash's answers ☆.ᐟ #enhypen smut #sub enhypen #enhypen fluff #jungwon smut #sub jungwon #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #jungwon fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #kpop smut #sub enha #yang jungwon #kpop hybrid #enhypen hybrid #hybrids #dom reader #sub idol

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mariclerc · 1 month ago

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betrayal and rescue | cl16

Summary: your ex betrays you, but luckily your teammate has your back.

Warnings: angst, mentions of domestic abuse, ferrari driver!reader, single mom reader, fluff.

a/n: let me know if you like this!!

Your life as an F1 driver has been a massive roller coaster of emotions, but you don't deny that it has been the best adventure of your life... Being the first female driver in a long time in the category is a pretty big and important title, but no title is as important as being a mother.

In your second season in the category, and while you were racing for Haas, you became a mother in a way... not so pleasant, to say at least, but you will not deny that the love you feel for your little girl is enormous. And the atmosphere of familiarity that exists between the drivers is something very nice, since almost all of them were very attentive to you during your pregnancy, especially the one who would be your future teammate...

You are currently leaving the Ferrari hospitality with your three-year-old Mia, who is very loved by everyone in the paddock, when walking through the paddock you meet George Russell, he started playing with Mia.

“But hi there pretty ladies! Where are you going looking so pretty at night, huh?” he says with a little smile, Mia lets out a giggle.

“Dad! Eat!” Mia says happily.

George chuckled. “Are you going to eat your daddy? That's not very good Mia.”

You shake your head. “Oh, no, no George, her dad is here for the weekend and... well, he thought that the three of us should go out to eat.” you say softly.

“Oh, I hope you're doing well girls! See you tomorrow in qualifying y/n.” says George, saying goodbye with a hug and walking towards the Mercedes hospitality.

You and Mia walk towards the car that the team lent you to go around Melbourne, the truth is that things between you and your partner have not been on better terms, but because he wanted to have dinner with the two of you, you decided to give him a chance to see if he once and for all decides to be a good partner and a good father... But of course you had pretty high expectations and obviously he just kept screwing up more and more every single time...

Now you find yourself with Mia in the hotel room, the two of you had already had dinner but obviously your partner never showed up, you find yourself calling him incessantly while you caress the hair of a more than sleeping Mia, just so he doesn't answer you. A little tired of the situation you decide to check if he posted an update on his social media or something like that, which he did... He posted a photo having dinner with another woman. "What a pleasant surprise" you think.

Just when you thought about calling him back once again, there's a knock on the door. You hesitantly open it to find your partner standing there, looking a little guilty.

“Hey, I'm so sorry about earlier love... There was a lot of traffic and it was...” he said trying to smile.

You interrupt him with trembling voice. “I don't want your empty apology.” you speak up. “I saw you had a very important date with other woman instead of having the dinner you promised with your daughter and girlfriend as you promised.” you say harshly.

He step into the room. “No, no, let me explain...”

“There's nothing to explain! I'm tired of your incompetence as a partner and also as a father. I'm tired of all the damn abuse all this years!” you said raising your voice, which unleashed his fury. “I'm breaking up with you, and this time I won't have any mercy on you.”

He backed you against the wall, grabbing one of your wrists with his hand, his grip is quite strong. “You can't do this you little brat. You and that little shit are mine and only mine!”

“Let go of me!” you scream while struggling to break free.

Your partner's grip tightens once more on your wrist, and you start to cry out and scream for help, begging for someone to listen to you. Suddenly you hear the door of the room beside yours being opened abruptly, Charles, hearing the commotion, has gone out into the hallway, his face filled with concern by the cries that emanate from you.

“What's happening?” says Charles rushing towards you.

“It's none of your business you pretty face.” your partner says a little startled.

“Of course it's my problem, you're hurting her, you idiot.” says Charles protecting you.

Your partner gets angry and furious. “You think you can just...”

Charles pushes your partner back, and he stumbles against the wall. You collapse onto the floor, sobbing, you feel so lost and hopeless.

“Listen to me, you get close to either of them two again and I won't hesitate for a second to hit you, is that clear?” says Charles in a deep voice while looking towards your partner angrily, he nods in fear and slips out of the room like a coward. Then, Charles turns around and kneels beside you. “Are you okay, y/n?”

You nod, barely able to speak. “He... He was going to hurt me.”

He holds your hand tightly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don't know, not yet. I just... I can't.” you shake your head while you tremble.

He nodded understandingly. “I know and it's okay if you don't want to talk about it yet, it's a lot to take in. But you and Mia are safe now... I'm here for you.” he said while he pulled you into his arms.

“Thank you Charles, I don't know what I would do if you didn't came in.” you say as you bury your face in his chest.

He smiled and kissed the top of your head. “You're welcome y/n, you're so stronger.”

As you and Charles get up from the floor, Mia stirs awake, you pick her up and hold her close.

“Mommy!” she babbled happily, unaware of the situation.

Charles smiled at her. “She's a lucky girl to have you as her mommy.”

You smile shyly at him and he looks up to smile back. You never thought that the betrayal from your ex-partner and the comfort — or rescue, from your teammate would happen in the same night, maybe it doesn't bother you that Charles is the person who knows about this.

***

The next day you wake up super early to prepare for quali day, you get ready and carefully prepare Mia's bag with her stuff, you approach her bed and start giving her small kisses all over her face.

“It's time to wake up my little sunshine! The sun has already come out to play!” you say in a soft voice, she shifts in bed and babbles.

“Mommy...” she mumbled.

You stroke her hair. “My pretty girl, you have to wake up! Mommy has to go to work and you're going to spend some quality and fun time playing with Joris, you know? Charlie's friend.” you tell her that and she starts to squeeze her eyes and she finally wakes up.

Gently, you pick her up and take her to the bathroom where you bathe her carefully and dress her in a cute butterfly outfit. She smiles when she sees you combing her hair, she is a happy girl and you do what is necessary to give her a good life.

With everything ready, you two go down to the hotel buffet for breakfast, once you two had already chosen breakfast, you both sit at the same table as Charles.

He smiled as he saw the two of you coming towards him. “Good morning ladies, did you sleep well?”

You nodded. “A little bit, Mia woke up a few times, but it was okay.”

Mia smiled. “Hi Charlie!” she said while waving her hand.

He waved his hand. “Hi Mia!” he looked at her. “She's such a little sweetheart.”

You smiled back. “Yeah, she really is.”

As you all sit down and start to eat, you decide to tell Charles the full story of your relationship with your ex-partner, or at least a context of reason why last night's argument between your ex-partner and you happened.

You take a deep breath. “Charles, I... I want to tell you something.”

He looks at you with concern. “Sure, what is it?”

“It's... It's about my ex.” you say a little hesitant.

He nodded. “Go ahead, I'm listening.”

You start to speak, slowly. “Well... we met at a party a few years ago, he was charming and funny, and I was immediately attracted to him, I mean, I think it was more than obvious since that's where Mia came from... Although I think it didn't mean anything to him. We started dating, and everything seemed perfect.”

Charles nodded. “Sounds like a typical love story.”

You smile sadly. “He was charming and flattering at first, sweep me off my feet with compliments and gifts. But it didn't take long for the cracks to show.” you feel your voice trembling. “It was with little things at first - jealous comments if I spoke to other men, accusing me of cheating for no reason... Then the anger started, over smaller and smaller things, like throwing and breaking things during fights.”

Charles reached out, grasping your quivering hand in his steady one. You took comfort in his presence, continuing.

“When I found out that I was pregnant with Mia, at first he seemed happy... But that's when the physical abuse began.” your eyes welled with tears at the painful memories. “Pushing and shoving that left bruises, slapping me hard across the face when I 'talked back.' Kicking and punching me when he'd been drinking.”

A comfortable silence develops between the two of you, Charles was quiet for a moment, anger and sadness evident in his green eyes. After a while Charles decides to speak.

“I can't believe he did those things to you.” he says softly, he holds your hand softly. “You did nothing to deserve that, you and Mia... You both deserve so much better.”

“Me neither, but I thought he was different.” you sighed tiredly.

Charles takes your hand. “It's not your fault, he's the one who made the choice to cheat.” he caressed the back of your hand.

“I know, but still hurts.” you nodded.

Suddenly Mia decides to throw a small piece of watermelon to Charles, he lets out a giggle and puts the piece of watermelon in his mouth while smiling at her.

You giggled. “Oh, Mia, you're such a distraction.”

“Mama! Fruits!” she says while holding a small piece of strawberry in her little hand.

Charles chuckled. “She's a lifesaver.” he said while looking at her.

As you continue to eat and talk, you feel a sense of relief. Sharing your story with Charles has helped you to process your emotions and feel less alone.

His words, and steadfast support, can give you courage and hope that things would only get better from here on.

***

After qualifying, in which you will start 4th in the race, you and Mia were snuggled on the hotel bed watching a kids movie... But her little brow was furrowed in thought.

“Mommy? Where daddy?” she asked softly.

You sighed softly. “Daddy... he did some bad things... He won't be living with us anymore sweetie.”

Her lower lip trembled. “He yelled at mama?” she asked shyly.

Your heart ached at having to explain such adult problems to her. But somehow she deserved the truth.

“Daddy was mean sometimes to mama... But it's not your fault, sweetheart. Mommy and Charles will protect you now, okay?”

She nodded uncertainly just as a knock came, you opened it to find Charles with a little shy smile on his face.

“Hi y/n, just stopping by to see how you're doing?” he says softly.

“Well, everything is fine for now, just that...” you say a little quietly, you glanced back at Mia now distracted by the movie again. “She started asking about her father after last night... And I tried to explain it simply.”

“You did well, I'm sure!” Charles assured you while he cocked his head thoughtfully. “Have you thought more about what you'll do now? Do you have somewhere safe to stay?”

You hadn't thought about that situation, I mean, going back to the shared apartment you had with your ex is not the best idea, because it would mean going back to the same old routine, but you can't stay living in a hotel either...

You sighed heavily. “I've been trying not to think that far, I mean, my family is so far away, and I don't feel comfortable at my apartment anymore because, he would be there too, so...” you say while playing with your trembling hands.

Charles caught you trembling hands in his steady ones. “You don't need to worry about any of that. I want you both to stay with me, for as long as you need.”

You gazed into his kind eyes, feeling tears well up with gratitude. “Charles, are you sure? I don't want to be any trouble...”

He shake his head. “It would put my mind at ease knowing the two of you are protected and safe.” he insisted gently. “Please, let me do this for you... Both of you.”

His heartfelt offer was too much, and you broke down sobbing as he gathered you close to him. In that moment you knew you two had each found the strength and comfort you both desperately needed.

“Oh my... Charles, thank you... I.” you whispered and he smiled softly, he kissed your forehead.

“Don't worry about anything, you two are going to be okay.” he whispered and you nodded.

***

One week later...

After the Australian race weekend, Charles insisted on driving the two of you to his home to settle in. Pulling up the long driveway, you gazed at the spacious house nervously.

“Whoa, this is a little bit bigger than I expected.” you admitted shyly as Charles helped with your bags.

You were able to get all your belongings out of your now old apartment thanks to some friends who helped you recover all of your and Mia's belongings.

He smiled warmly. “I want you both to feel comfortable here, this is your home too now.”

Mia clung shyly to your leg as Charles gave you a home tour: the spacious bedrooms, well-stocked kitchen, and gorgeous backyard took your breath away.

“Mia, look - it's a playroom just for you! Isn't that amazing?” Charles said excitedly, her little face lit up and smiled at the toys and books.

In that moment, the tension eased from your shoulders. This house, and Charles' kindness, offered you two the safe haven you'd desperately sought.

That very first night, Charles cooked you two a decadent welcome meal as you helped Mia adjust to her new surroundings. She warmed up to Charles quickly thanks to his playful, gentle and caring nature.

Over the following days, Charles went out of his way to make you and Mia feel at home - helping decorate Mia's room, taking both of you shopping to refill the pantry, entertaining Mia for hours so you could have a well deserved rest.

His generosity and compassion left you in awe, because, despite of being your teammate, the famous athlete that could have any woman, yet he chose to open his heart and home to a struggling single mother and daughter.

As the few weeks passed, you found yourself smiling and laughing more than you had in years. Mia bloomed under Charles' care, and you felt falling for this beautiful soul who gave you both everything without question or complaint.

One night over a candlelit dinner, Charles took your hand gently and gazed into your eyes. “I know this is so fast, but... my heart is yours, if you want to have it.”

Tears filled your eyes, you smiled and squeezed his hand, for the first time, your future seemed full of hope, happiness, and the love you knew that both of you really deserved.

***

You and Charles had been cautiously exploring a romantic relationship over the past few weeks. And him, being true to his word, he never pressed or rushed you at all, he's happy to take things at whatever pace you desired.

One sunny afternoon, you were reading in the bedroom when laughter and giggles floated in from outside. Stepping onto the balcony, your heart swelled at the sight before you...

Charles lay relaxing on a lounge chair, Mia snuggled contentedly on his chest, he popped slices of strawberry into her smiling mouth between fits of giggles.

“There's ma petite princesse!” Charles cooed, tapping her nose playfully and she beamed up at him, her hazel eyes sparkling. (my little princess)

Mia smiled. “Princess!” she says with her mouth full with strawberries and Charles nodded.

Charles looks up from Mia and looks at you, tilting his head back with a radiant smile.

“Mon coeur, come join us!” he patted the space beside him invitingly. (my heart)

You settled in under his strong arm with a sigh, stealing a grape from the fruit bowl and Charles pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

Mia babbled happily about the cartoons they'd been watching and Charles listened with rapt attention, praising her vivid and creative imagination.

You gazed between them, heart full to bursting. Here in this perfect little moment, surrounded by the love and acceptance of this wonderful man, you felt yourself starting to heal.

While the circumstances weren't simple or traditional, Charles made your unconventional little family feel like the most natural thing in the world with his unwavering devotion. For the first time in years, you began to let yourself believe that you both deserved all the joy and happiness you found in each other's arms.

#f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles x driver!reader #charles leclerc x ferrari!driver reader #charles leclerc x single mom #charles x single mom #charles leclerc x mom #charles x ferrari!driver reader #formula one x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #charles x you #charles x mom #charles leclerc angst #reader!driver #ferrari driver!reader #mariclerc fics

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moomoog017 · 7 months ago

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headcannons ᯓᡣ𐭩 commander wolffe

commander wolffe x gn!reader

Guys this wasn't supposed to be so long... Enjoy!

One of his favorite things to do in private is for you to feel his muscles. Arms, chest, back, whatever it is he adores it. It boosts his ego and makes him feel special. He loves when you dote on how strong he is, it really gets him going. If you're muscular in places he will hype you up and tell you how strong you are. Feeling your muscles and pushing down on them he smirks. "Woah look atchu! So much muscle now (Y/n)!"

When he is in depth in a plan or thought, he comes to you for support and suggestions. When it's battle plans, he likes hearing your thoughts about it and will usually take your advice. He can't help but notice when you drop everything to help him. When it's NOT battle plans he likes to talk about life. He's not a big fan of the past but he will philosophize with you. He's quite the intellectual despite his exterior.

The man is a sucker for you when you take charge of literally anything. He likes it when you challenge his ideas or know something he doesn't. He would never admit it but he likes when you teach him something new. "Give it here, I'll show you." Wolffe rolls his eyes handing over the weapon. "There isn't a weapon I couldn't use." He states as a 'matter of fact. ' You chuckle. "Watch." A smirk crept on your face and you use the weapon with incredible accuracy. Wolffe's eyes widen. A blush is pushed onto his face, "yeah whatever, lucky shot."

Wolffe isn't exactly an empathetic person he's a tough love kinda guy. If you say anything bad about yourself he literally doesn't understand why because when he sees you, you're perfect. He genuinely gets confused and tries to tell you that your statements make no sense and are inaccurate. He will nag you until you think otherwise, if it's a real problem for you he's gonna catch on, he's smart.

If you are forcing yourself to stay awake especially for his sake he will put you to bed. Forcefully if he must. He cares so much and when you're healthy you're happy, that's all he wants for you. He sometimes neglects his health like sleeping for you, he will always provide for you first. He is selfless. "Wolffe! I'm fine." Wolffe sighs, you wanna play? Let's play." His gruff voice and dangerous eyes burning through you. He lunges and grabs you, hoisting you in his arms. Wolffe happily smirks at his victory.

OMFG STRUT YOUR STUFF. HE WILL EAT THAT SHIT UP. He loves when you're confident in yourself it makes him crazy, like bro is barking.

When you're stubborn he's all over you he can't stand it when you challenge him or don't do what you're told he kinda enjoys it but he won't tell you that.

You can't peck him on the lips without him pulling you back and embracing in a passionate kiss, living in war is always risky, one day it's possible he won't come back. He needs to make sure you know he loves you every time him or you leaves.

When you work up a sweat whether just existing or doing something physically he loses it. Just the smell of you makes him wanna grab and make out with you. ESPECIALLY if it's sparing with him.

Wolffe is always grateful when you give him stuff but no matter how expensive or cool it is nothing beats the experiences you guys have together. He will remember those forever and they mean so much to him.

He has developed this habit of grabbing your cheek and pinching it. He doesn't do it hard but it's a way for him to say 'I love you' without saying it in front of the other men. He gets a little embarrassed sometimes, he's got to maintain his tough guy image.

At first he was self conscious about his scar, it brings him bad memories but he always plays it off that he doesn't care but it still haunts him sometimes. When you two were close enough to feel comfortable with touching each other, the first place you felt was his scar. He knew he wasn't 'pretty' but you didn't care. He felt the softness of his scar and he felt something he hadn't in a very long time. Security. But when you kissed his scar all the way down his face, he just about lost it. He felt your care and compassion through your kisses and he never wanted it to stop.

Whenever you're passionate he's passionate. He might not show it very well but the way he looks at you says it all. The slight smirk in his face, like it's going to turn into a smile. The scrunch of his eyes shows you happiness. The same goes for when you're fired up because of something, he LOVES when you speak your mind, get a little cocky or sarcastic.

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seren1tyhaze · 1 year ago

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of grocery lists and spilled (oat) milk

PAIRING: mark lee x afab reader

WORD COUNT: 3.2K

SUMMARY: sure, keeping your grocery list in Mark Lee's dms may seem like next level delusional but it can't do any harm, right?

AUTHOR’S NOTE: for my lovely @strwbrysunday who inspired this and for being there always for every step of my delusional writing process <3 In case I don’t pull something together in time, we can count this as a VERY early bday tribute to Markly

WARNINGS: fluff, romantic meet cute, light swearing, rekindling romance, childhood friends to lovers

PLAYLIST: Broken Melodies and Like We Just Met by NCT Dream

Life is but a dream, we got history

Your alarm is blaring in your ear as your cat licks the tip of your nose, jolting you awake to see hot sun streaming in your bedroom window. How bright the room is has you scrambling for your phone, desperately hoping you hadn’t overslept (again).

Your phone screen confirms the worst as you whip back the covers and slide into fluffy slippers next to your bed, knocking a cup over as you reach for your cat’s food in the kitchen and spilling some of it in the process. She happily purrs against your bare legs before starting to eat slowly out of the small tray and you realize you’re going to have to drink the shitty office coffee since you’re both out of espresso pods and oat milk.

You quickly shower and are out the door in record time, thanking yourself that you hadn’t unpacked your work bag when you had gotten home late the night before. Work has been brutal lately, giving you barely any time in the evenings to yourself and you’ve never been one to wake up early in the morning. You know you have to go to the store today so you plan to try to sneak out a bit early to get your essentials.

Once you’re settled in the train car for your twenty seven minute ride, you work through a couple emails to get a head start on work before turning to your grocery list.

You glance to your side to see if anyone is looking over your shoulder at your phone, knowing the unconventional location of said list would seem questionable to a passerby.

Even you can admit that your delusional habit you had started ages ago was a little strange, but it felt comforting at this point and wasn’t hurting anyone. You opened up your Instagram DMs and tapped into the extremely one sided conversation with a charming, smiley rapper with 11.5M followers who did not know you existed.

Yes, you kept your grocery lists (and other important info you needed to find quickly) in Mark Lee’s DMs.

It had started as a joke a few years ago when you had finally admitted to your closest friend in the city that you and Mark had gone to summer camp together when you were kids. It had only been for a couple years but you remembered it like it was yesterday. The early morning kayak trips, knocking bare knees around a late night campfire, and how he used to sing you to sleep accompanied by the soft strumming of his guitar from the steps of your cabin.

You had followed his career ever since, listening to new songs as they were released, watching him on variety shows, and flipping through magazines whenever you saw his stunning face and bold style gracing the covers. You enjoyed seeing the short poems he would post on his stories or read out loud on the rare live he would do after shows.

Your friend had encouraged you to slide into his DMs at the time, purely motivated by her desire to meet his dancer best friend that he was sometimes spotted with at the most exclusive clubs. You had tapped open the message conversation with him and in typing quickly, accidentally pasted your short grocery list into the chat. She had laughed at you and you sent the message anyways, knowing that there was no way he would reply or ever even see it in his message requests.

You had a solid amount of followers for someone who didn’t work in the entertainment industry due to the app you had helped develop rising in popularity in the past few months. You sometimes helped out with filming vlog content for the website or TikToks but mostly kept to yourself and didn’t really have any interest in being internet famous.

Since you had first put your grocery list in Mark’s DMs, you had used the space to put little notes to yourself, including a drunken ramble one night about how 16 Personalities has royally fucked up everyone’s perception of MBTI.

Today, you opened up the message to add in your latest essentials, putting oat milk in all caps since the last few times you went you somehow managed to forget it. You needed food for the week, chicken and veggies, some other basics like mascara and tampons and remembered running low on cat treats.

Sliding your phone back into the front pocket of your bag, you let your eyes flutter shut for the rest of the ride to work, finally feeling the adrenaline of waking up late wear off.

Many hours later you are angrily typing on your computer, finishing up some code review for the development team, eyes flicking repeatedly to the clock in the bottom of your screen.

“I’m sorry you had to stay late, you should head out soon before it starts raining harder,” your coworker messages you, leaning from behind their monitor across the open office space, offering you a small smile.

You send off a couple frustrated emojis before typing up your feedback for the team in an email, feet already sliding into your rain boots you kept under your desk for gloomy days like today.

Checking your watch, you realize you are barely going to make it to the grocery store if you don’t leave now. The only benefit will be that it should be pretty empty this late at night. After a short train ride, you’re pushing a cart through the empty aisles, grabbing what you need and humming lightly to yourself. There are a few fellow late night shoppers milling about alongside the workers stocking the shelves for the next morning.

You grab the last item on your list just as a series of yawns hit you, making your way to the self-checkout area. You are about to scan your first item when you glance down at your cart, noticing you’ve managed to forget the oat milk again.

“Fucking…” you murmur under your breath, dropping your pack of tampons back into the cart and spinning on your heel, heading towards the back of the store to quickly grab the milk.

You’re almost back to your cart when you hit a wet spot on the floor, slipping in a dramatic, banana peel comedy sketch moment, falling hard on your back, managing to catch the back of your head with your hand before it collides with the linoleum floor.

The oat milk cartons in your hands crash to the floor, one of them starting to leak out in a milky puddle next to you.

Suddenly a masked face appears over you, white cloth covering most of his features, dark eyes holding a confused look. You are breathing heavily and blink a couple times to clear your vision.

“Yo…are you okay?” comes a loud and worried voice, holding a hand out in an offer of help.

You feel a little light headed but accept the hand anyways, allowing yourself to sit up and meet the eyes of the young man now crouching next to you on the wet floor.

“Uh yeah…yeah…the floor was we-” your speech is cut off suddenly as he pulls down his mask, shaking dark hair from his eyes and making eye contact with you again.

Kneeling in a puddle of rainwater and oat milk was none other than the man whose DMs you had monopolized for the past few years and the name you had moaned late at night with your hand shoved under your covers. It was the face you had studied countless times in high resolution photos from the airport posted on Twitter, a face that you had memorized down to the prominent mole on his cheek and the curves of his shining white teeth. Mark Lee had just watched you bite it on the floor of the grocery store right before closing.

You can barely keep eye contact with Mark as you stand up, looking down to see damp pants and your shirt rumpled. Embarrassed, you thank him under your breath, reaching down to pick up the milk cartons and tossing them in a nearby trash can. You quickly begin scanning the items from your cart with shaky hands, placing them in your tote bag, hoping to get out of there as soon as possible.

“Did you remember the cat treats?” he asks quietly, pushing the black hood off his head and stepping closer to you, handing you a carton of strawberries from your basket.

You lift up your gaze to meet his, mouth falling open at his question. His eyes are big and kind and he has a shy but warm expression on his face, plump pink lips settling into a pout as he finishes his question.

“You…read those messages? I’m uh…Mark…Lee…Mark Lee. I’m so sorry…” you ramble, brain scrambled and swimming with all other reasons why he could have asked that, praying that he somehow hadn’t been reading your messages all these years.

“How could I not when the cute girl from summer camp kept me informed on every little detail of her life,” he replied, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, smiling bashfully as his fingertips made contact with your now flushed cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Mark, I didn’t think there was any way you would remember me and it just kind of became a habit,” you stuttered out, scanning your last item and reaching for your wallet. You were acutely aware of how close he had gotten and silently hoped your makeup still looked good and that your hair had stayed lightly curled from yesterday’s styling. Every inch of your skin felt like it was on fire and you knew how red your neck had to be getting.

“I got it, but don’t forget the oat milk,” he offers as he scans a carton of the same brand from his own cart before swiping his card on the reader to pay for your groceries. You are once again stunned but tip your head down in a silent thanks.

“But for real, thank you for recommending this brand, it’s the best!” he laughs, scratching the back of his head awkwardly and grabbing your bags for you.

“I can’t believe you remember me,” you say quietly, a grin settling across your face as the two of you walk out of the store. His hand is brushing up against the back of yours as he keeps close to your side, popping open an umbrella to shield you from the light rain that hasn’t quite cleared yet.

“I’ve thought about you a lot over the years, but also know our lives took us in different directions. But I always hoped you were supporting me from a distance,” he replies candidly, tapping into his phone before handing it to you with an open contact card screen.

“Now, can you please give me your number so I can call you and we can go on a real date that doesn’t involve you laying a puddle of milk?”

“Hey, maybe that’s my idea of a perfect first date!” you laugh out, quickly adding yourself as a contact in his phone before handing it back to him. Your heart is pounding as your fingers brush against his, unable to believe that this is happening. You half expect to sit up in your bed any moment, thinking that all the videos you studied about lucid dreaming must have finally paid off.

He chuckles, closing the umbrella as the rain comes to a stop at the most picture perfect moment. The air smelled fresh in the post storm haze, fog settling lightly around you amongst flickering streetlights and the hum of city sounds. He reaches back to pull his hood up, covering dark and piecey short hair, hanging perfectly at the sides of his forehead. Whenever he turns his head, you catch a glimpse of an intricate pattern buzzed into the shorter sides, exposing flashes of his scalp in contrast to his dark hair.

Your eyes trail down his face and take in his full frame for the first moment since you first encountered him in the store. He’s broader than you had imagined, your height difference the same as when you had known him as a kid, but his arms look strong and tight jeans leaving little to the imagination. His face is bare but immaculate, brows perfectly coiffed and lips plump and moisturized.

He clears his throat lightly at you ogling him and you meet his sparkling eyes again as he sits your bags gently on the ground next to him, placing a tentative hand on your lower back.

“Yes?” you ask teasingly, batting your eyelashes a little for good measure, suddenly feeling confidence bloom within you. He sighs before speaking again and you feel the tension and nervousness between the two of you start to melt away.

“Ever since you sent me those videos on Halloween, I’ve been having to stop myself from sliding into your DMs like some sleazy asshole,” he mutters, voice suddenly lower and strained as his pinky finger brushes up against yours, linking with it and swinging lightly.

You knit your eyebrows together in confusion, trying to think back to what videos he could be talking about. Hazy memories of your drunken night out to multiple bars and house parties start flooding in as you begin to remember what you wore that night.

Golden fabric and black strappy laces from below your navel up to your neck flash in your mind and you suddenly remember your cheetah costume that was less than safe for work. Those heels went straight in the trash when you got home because while they made your legs look amazing, they gave you the worst blisters of your entire life.

“...I did not send you videos that night,” you start cautiously, placing a hand on his chest to ground yourself. You are trying to force the memories forward but all you can think of is the countless shots you took with your friend and some sloppy make out sessions on the dance floor.

He chuckles, nodding silently and letting his forehead fall towards yours, pressing against yours tenderly. It did bring you comfort but also made your heart skip a beat.

“I am…mortified,” you sigh, blinking up at him from the awkward angle.

“Don’t be, you looked fucking hot,” he breathes out, warm breath minty and fanning out across your lips.

His lips are on yours seconds later, hand sliding down towards your ass and pulling you closer into him. He breaks away from you, inches from your lips, checking your face for any sign of discomfort, only to find lust laden, hooded eyes blinking rapidly.

You surge forward to capture his lips again, bringing your hand up to his neck and digging your nails into the skin there. His tongue presses against your lips eagerly and you give him access instantly, a soft whine buzzing against his mouth. You lose all concept of time and space, forgetting you are standing on the empty downtown streets in front of the market, in the arms of one of the most famous musicians in the world.

You break away first, having to calm your breathing pattern and releasing the material you were gripping on his chest.

He chuckles and slides his hand up your back, massaging your shoulder lightly through your raincoat. He’s so much more gentle and tender than you could have ever imagined and you struggle to maintain eye contact with him.

“I can’t believe all I had to do was buy a carton of oat milk to finally kiss my first crush after all these years,” he laughs out, leaning in to gently nuzzle at your hair.

“Do you need me to add anything to our grocery list? You know, it’s almost been two years since we started it, I think,” Mark laughed out a little loudly, despite being close to your ear in Taeyong’s crowded apartment.

“Wait, I thought you two just moved in together recently?” Jaemin cackles, taking a long sip of beer. You didn’t realize he was eavesdropping on your conversation, assuming he had been too focused on Jeno’s karaoke performance happening in the center of the room.

You dip your head down, embarrassed by the fact that Mark’s closest friends still didn’t know the full details of your reunion and start of your relationship. You had sworn him to secrecy, telling him he could fill them in on the past camp days and make up some story about how the two of you had met at an art gallery opening.

“Oh Jaem, haven’t you heard of our adorable meet cute?” Mark asks mischievously, nudging your knee with his and dragging his lips over your ear. His eyes tell you everything, just as they always had, just like when you first met.

“Oh do tell,” he gushed, letting his chin drop into his hand with his elbow propped up on his crossed legs. He tapped his cheek with his fingers, wiggling his eyebrows at the two of you.

While you refused to let Mark share the story of years of grocery lists and your fall at the market check out, you did let him share how he asked you to move in with him a few months prior.

On a normal Friday morning you had pulled open the fridge, reaching in without looking, and feeling your hand brush against an unfamiliar piece of paper on the oat milk.

A watermelon shaped post-it note (that had seemingly been “borrowed” from your desk) was taped to the front of the carton with hurried handwriting in a statement that made your heart flutter.

I hate this distance and I hate singing broken melodies. Move in with me <3

The carton almost slips from your fingers but you manage to catch it and pour some with a shaky hand into your waiting tumbler.

Pulling your phone from your jeans pocket, you lean your back against the counter, petting your cat’s head as she emerges from her favorite spot behind the toaster oven.

Opening Instagram, you tap into your conversation, adding a to do list in the same format you usually used for your grocery lists.

To Do List: Help my new roommate pick out more comfortable pillows for the bed -.-

Typing bubbles appear almost immediately, and a string of sappy emojis and voice notes start flooding in from Mark.

It’s still surreal to see replies from the message thread that had been one-sided for so long. You still message in Instagram from time to time, finding comfort in the space, despite spending hours on the phone each day and being in almost constant contact via other messaging apps.

A knock at your door pulls your attention and you have to dab your eyes with the back of your hand where tears have pricked up. A couple large boxes are waiting outside your door and you drag them inside before snapping a picture to send to Mark. You had planned a camping trip for later in the summer, looking forward to reliving those muggy summer nights spent chasing fireflies, spending your days reading in a hammock and falling even deeper in love with the boy who first made you feel special all those years ago.

#nct x reader #mark lee fanfic #mark lee x reader #mark lee #nct dream x reader #nct dream fanfic #serenity wrote something nice and angst free for once #are you proud #serenity’s love letter to markfs

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hanrinz · 2 years ago

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Hello! Hope you’re doing well. <33 On requests, I’m hoping for some Shinsou dating headcanons or maybe on S/O being rivals to lovers with him. Idk, but hope it can give an idea :))

✰ ˖ DATING SHINSOU HITOSHI . . . !

content: fluff! a little ooc shinsou, friends to lovers (bc it's cute), reader is chaotic, and maybe this is a little self indulgent

notes: omgg anon!! i love the idea, maybe i'll write the rivals to lovers in a different post, but for now i really like the idea of dating shinsou hc!! oh and also i'm doing well anon, ty for asking !

dating the shinsou hitoshi might be the most unexpected thing that has ever happened to you in attending UA

if someone ever told your first year self that you're dating the purple haired guy, you would have laughed at their face

well, jokes on you

you've been together for two years, and happily spending your days training as a hero! y'all already in third year and closer to graduating, it was definitely not an easy journey but you made it!

you've been each other's person back before you've even got together

he has a habit of bringing you your favorite coffee every morning & the time he had forgotten to make you one, the both of you shared his

or if you don't like coffee he probably brings you something to eat.

probably has that day where the two of you would talk shit of someone who has wronged the both of you (they deserved it)

most of the time you do your homework together, but you kind of get distracted.. so as much as you really like spending time with him, studying separately was more ideal

one time you took him to an amusement park on your second date, and you really had fun, maybe minus the part where the whole class followed y'all (they were like the paparazzi, they even made an effort to put on a disguise)

forehead kisses!! lots of forehead kisses, like before you go to class he'll never forget to give you a forehead kiss and you would kiss him on the cheeks!

it took him at least two months before he got used to the physical touch, very clingy when he got used to it!

he sleeps on your lap! he said it was so comfortable and your thighs were like pillows??

he writes you poems omg, like he sends it at midnight, when he can't sleep. he's very sweet😭 please hug him

there was one time where he sneaked into your room at night, just because he wanted to kiss you, y'all got caught by aizawa midway. mans never got that kiss that night

would always hold your hand randomly, just to feel if you're really here beside him :(

he loves cats, he does! but you were on a different level in liking them. he has to physically stop you from petting every stray cat you see. he's very worried you might just die from rabies before you even become a hero😟

he's a little spoon! idc what other ppl say, i rest my case, your honor.

takes candid photos of you, he has an album of them with little notes written in it. "the most beautiful person to exist" or "mine" <3 STOPWBHSJH

literally the best in comforting!!

surprisingly, knows how to style a hair🤨 i mean he babysits eri so.. like he's so good!

speaking of eri!! y'all always take her outside to enjoy! would always have that 'y/n, shinsou & eri day!'

when y'all become pro-heroes and took eri for a picnic, ppl would always mistake you for a family (don't y'all look a little too young for a family?)

a lot of ppl support your relationship, lowkey but not a secret<33

#letters.#nonnie.#shinsou x reader #shinsou x you #shinsou headcanons #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou hitoshi x you #mha headcanons #shinso x reader #bnha headcannons #bnha headcanons #roses ‘r rosie

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poppadom0912 · 2 years ago

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Anesthesia

Characters: Kelly Severide x Reader, Matt Casey, Crockett Marcel

Warnings: Mentions of surgery.

Summary: It's incredible was anesthesia can do to a person.

A/N: Very much mixed feelings but it's also kinda cute, idk. Really short compared to what I normally do but oh well.

*****

"Everything ran smoothly, not a single complication. I'm proud to say your stitches are some of my best and with this kind man at your bedside, you'll be back to firefighting in no time." Crockett said with a smile once he checked all your vitals.

You hummed happily, a sleepy smile on your face as you mentally thanked the man, forgetting he couldn't hear your thoughts. "Your a really good surgeon Crockett."

"I try my best." The surgeon laughed, taking your compliment in his stride. "Rest up alright? I'll be back later to check on you."

Wiggling your fingers, you sighed as the surgeon left the room and looked up at your man in interest, only now remembering his existence when you felt his fingers combing through your hair. "Oh! Husband you're here!"

"Always will be." Kelly chuckled, finding it too amusing how loopy you were after your surgery. He'd definitely remember every single second and make sure it came in handy in the future. "How you feeling?"

"Like a billion dollars." You said with a cheesy smile, enjoying the comfort he was bringing you. "I have a question for you though."

"Ask ahead baby." Kelly said, entertaining you.

"I'm not a baby." You scoffed, looking at him disapprovingly. "What happened to our baby though, y'know the reason why my stomach was so fat." You said, poking your completely flat stomach in pure wonder.

"I did give birth right?" You asked, confirming that your fears weren't true. "There was no surgery for taking our baby, they can't cut into my womb, the wombs mine-"

"Y/N, who do you think is sitting in the chair opposite mine." Kelly rose a brow, stopping you mid ramble before you could get yourself riled up for no reason.

Confused, you huffed but listened and turned your head to your left and what do you know, there sitting was none other than your husbands best friend with your six month old playing with his fingers on his lap.

"You have a baby?" You asked, your eyebrows shooting all the way up. "Since when was Sylvie pregnant?!"

Struggling but somehow managing to keep in his laugh, Kelly mocked glared at Matt who snickered. "That's our baby. The baby we made and was just talking about."

"My baby!" You said with the biggest smile. "I missed you baby boy."

Your son sent you a gummy smile, easily recognising your voice. He made random but very cute gurgling sounds mixed in with his giggles which made you smile even more.

"Don't you dare hurt my baby boy Matthew Casey." You said threateningly, glaring at your friend with squinted eyes. "I know where you live, where you work, sleep, and eat."

"We do a lot of those things together Y/N." Matt said, reminding you that you worked in the same firehouse as you and he was also your roommate at the loft.

You hummed nonchalantly, waving him off. "I'll still come for you Matthew."

"Copy that." Matt smiled, eyeing the time on his watch. "I gotta go, shift starts in ten and I need to drop off this little man with your sitter."

"Thanks man." Kelly said, helping gather up your son's nappy bag. "Be good alright? Don't be trouble." Kelly looked at your son seriously, giving him a quick kiss before they left.

"Aw, I miss them already." You pouted, looking at your husband longingly opening your arms wide open. "Come cuddle me please. I miss you too."

"I've always been here Y/N, and I'm not leaving any time soon." Kelly chuckled, sitting on the bed besides your legs. "I've taken time off to nurse you back to full health, remember?"

You hummed, not fully paying attention, simply gazing adoringly at your husbands incredibly handsome face. At the lack of an answer, Kelly laughed, brushing your hair back from your face so he could see your properly.

"Alright, budge up." Kelly gave in, watching you cautiously in case you hurt yourself as you moved.

"Your a firefighter, shouldn't you be able to fit into small spaces?" You asked very seriously but made room for him anyways. You wanted a proper answer but all your got was a small shake of his head and a hearty laugh from your man.

Settling against him, you rested your head against his chest, finding extreme comfort in the steady beats of his heart. His warmth enveloped you the second he gently wrapped his arms around you.

Pressing a kiss into your hair, Kelly listened to you hum contently as you relaxed in his embrace. Even on drugs, you always felt as though you were home with Kelly.

"Love you." You mumbled into his chest, your eyelids fluttering shut, completely wiped out despite barely moving and doing anything.

"Love you too." Kelly replied, watching you doze off and the only thing he could hear was the beeps of the monitors telling him you were alive and your barely audible snores.

#onechicago #one chicago x reader #chicago fire x reader #one chicago fic #chicago fire #kelly severide #kelly severide x reader #kelly severide x y/n #kelly severide fanfiction #oneshot

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darklydeliciousdesires · 5 months ago

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Light on the Darkside - An Original Story.

Well, guys, here it is! I've been planning this premise for a while, but very recently the pieces of it all fell together, the main characters virtually materialised by themselves, and here we have it. I won't lie, it will be quite dark for the first couple of chapters, and if you are easily triggered by depression, suicide or anorexia, I'd give it a miss, but I have injected a lot of love and heart into it, and some comic moments as well. It does start to lighten considerably by the third chapter.

I had to AI my main characters in their appearance, unfortunately, since I can't really find anyone in reality to face claim them to.

So, here we go. Please remember to be kind and give me a reblog on this, as original fiction is so very overlooked on this site, any help promoting it would be greatly appreciated. I would love to hear your thoughts, too!

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 4,137

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

The fateful swing of a pendulum; some say it is as precarious as this, the thing that bridges the gap between life and death. Swing too far and the darkness engulfs you forever, eternal sleep settling over a body, whether willingly or not. Not enough, and it swings you back into the light, again, whether willingly or not.

For James Kingston, on the 21st of March, 1997, it wasn’t willingly.

The wings of death had opened to him, shrouded him in the alluring caress of her inky, feathered shadows, enveloped and lifted his consciousness away from it all. His body should have followed.

It hadn’t.

“James Nathaniel Kingston, twenty-three years old, found almost asphyxiated on the bathroom floor by the 999 caller twenty minutes ago. Both forearms slashed and approximately thirty co-codamol and twenty ibuprofen tablets imbibed with half a bottle of tequila.”

Light. Dark. Noise. So much noise. Pressure lifted from his arms, applied once again when the wounds began to gush. More shouting. A light shined into his eyeballs in turn. A tube down his throat.

“Just let me fucking go.”

It had been quiet, where he’d temporarily found himself. Quiet and devoid of everything, exactly what he wished for, a slither of peace finally filling the void of emptiness that had opened within him to such an extent, nothing could fill it comfortably. And god, how he’d attempted to.

In the end, the burden of existence had weighed upon him with an immovable, unfathomable pressure, his resolve breaking, toppling, his foundations crumbling like an ancient tower under the brutal duress of a wrecking ball. Slipping into it, he’d taken the large knife, just about coherent enough to open both arms and watch the river of red flow, witness his life draining out in a gush of crimson that glittered sticky over his dark clothes.

Vomit, a surge of it exiting his mouth into a receptacle held by a man in hospital clothing, telling him not to fight it. Charcoal. God, that was foul. He’d been so close, happily floating his way into the eternal embrace of death. How dare they interfere with it.

“James, come on. Lie back, buddy. Let the tube go.”

Heaving again, he yanked it from his throat, his fist connecting with the doctor’s face, vomit and blood splashing all over. Hands pushed against him, held him down.

“I need all available staff in here to hold him still!”

Oh, no. “Get the fuck off me!” His booted foot lashed out, connected with someone, something, a yelp sounding, his bloodied forearm hitting a nurse in her throat. “Get off me or I’ll fucking break your neck!”

Multiple hands fought against his thrashing, the tube plunged back into his throat. More charcoal. More vomit. “Okay, his stomach is clear. Sedate him so we can actually stitch his arms up.”

It took six members of the A&E staff to hold him still, until the effects of the drugs injected into his system sent him back into a world of pure, beautiful black, his body stilling. He was finally under control, his blood type attained, three units of AB negative lined into his arm, the nurse who he’d kicked in the chest beginning to stitch him up.

She showed him all the care he likely wouldn’t have thanked her for, remarking to herself that what she was witnessing was no simple cry for help. This young man, he’d wanted death, sought it avidly, the cuts she stitched so deep, she was surprised he’d survived going on those alone. Twenty-three and he was so weary with whatever he carried mentally, he’d only seen this, something so horrific, as a viable exit plan.

In the waiting room, two of his friends were seated, the young men revealing a little background on him when she’d gone out to give them the relieving news that he’d survived. They were members of the same band, a band who by all accounts was just beginning to take off, James the lead guitarist of the outfit named Nocturnal Descent.

She’d tentatively asked if they had any clue why he’d done it. The taller of the two, with full sleeves of tattoos and two bleached streaks in the front of his long, dark hair had shaken his head. “He’s a bit moody sometimes, bad tempered an’ all. Unless he’s been drinking then he’s larger than life, but nah. Nothing that’s made me think he’s about to do himself in. He cuts himself sometimes, likes the pain, he’s into the whole blood letting thing and whatever, but nah. No idea.”

Witnessing the older scars that flecked his arms, she could believe that.

“He’s been quiet for a bit,” the other man had confirmed, while he’d sat picking at one of his long, ginger dreadlocks. “Wasn’t nothing that made us wonder if he was alright or not. Just gets like that sometimes. Especially when he’s tired. Jim likes his sleep.”

How close he’d come to finding that eternally, the nurse thought, finishing up her stitching. She then cut him out of his vomit stained, blood drenched clothes, giving him a little wash down so at least he was fresh and comfortable when he did finally come around.

“God, fella,” she marvelled, “I’d bloody kill for your hair.” Poker straight, jet black and only a few inches from reaching his waist. He likely did little to keep it so beautiful, too, such was the injustice there when men possessed lovely hair, or amazing legs, and it not be anything they particularly put an effort into.

“Well, that’s you all sorted. I certainly hope you’re more pleasant than you were before when you wake up again.” With that, she left him there in the room he’d been moved to in the side ward, likely to remain until he was assessed by doctors. Bodily, he’d need some time to heal and recover from the physical trauma of attempting suicide, but it’d be what was going on up in his head that would be subject to the deeper assessment.

It was an hour before he finally began to come around a little, able to hear voices outside of the room he was in. He groaned faintly, his thoughts all plummeting down into the very depths of the dark once more.

“Fuck. Still alive. Steve’s a prick.”

Steve, he guessed, had likely been the one who’d found him and called an ambulance. It wouldn’t have been Snedders, who’d already been too stoned to move more than three feet when James had decided to lock himself in the bathroom and end it all.

No, once Liam ‘Snedders’ Snedderley hit the weed, his speed decreased to that of a tranquilised sloth. Amazing really, for a man who could drum with such velocity, a whirlwind of ginger dreadlocks swirling as he did. This? It was definitely Steve. His best mate, who at that particular moment he loathed.

“Just wanted to die, but no. Selfish bastard couldn’t even let me have that. Top grade twat.”

Whether there’d be a time to come where he’d lighten such hostility, he didn’t know, attempting to lift his arm and scratch his nose but finding he couldn’t. Opening his eyes, the lights of the room obnoxiously bright, he grumbled, looking down to see his bandaged arms both fastened into wrist restraints.

“Usually got a bird on my cock when I’m bound up.” His thoughts were accompanied by a little smirk that quickly faded, tuning his ears to the voices coming from outside of his room. “Ahh, fuck. The duchess is here.” He’d recognise the shrill tones of his mother even through a lead lined box.

And she was on form, as usual.

“It's this whole scene he’s gotten himself into, that’s what’s brought it on! He started listening to this black metal nonsense when he was fourteen, had started a band by sixteen and now his entire life revolves around the darkness of it!”

The doctor she was talking at rather than to cleared his throat, wanting to at least attempt a little diplomacy in how he handled the balance of fact, and remaining tactful with a woman whose son had just made a serious attempt on his own life. “Mrs. Kingston, it’s a little more complex than that when we are dealing with clinical depression, of which I am inclined to suspect your son is suffering from severely, should we take his actions into consideration.”

Her ranting to the contrary continued. Truly, nobody knew it all like Carole Kingston, James lying there wishing he’d stabbed himself in the ears so he didn’t have to listen to her. His music was his solace, something he could pour the darkness within himself into, make the noise in his head and the bleakness in the epicentre of him a little more bearable to deal with. She’d never hear that reasoning, though. Never hear him.

“Carole,” he heard his father speak tersely, not even needing to witness him to know that he was likely pinching the bridge of his nose after removing his glasses. It was an Alan Kingston go to when aggravated. “You know he’s gotten a lot better since he started the band. The doctor is right, though. I think it’s been going on longer than we wanted to admit.”

Thank fuck his dad wasn’t working nights and he wouldn’t have to deal with his mother alone, with his head torn to pieces. That strong Liverpudlian lilt that most found either comedic or grating never failed to soothe him.

“For how long, would you say, Mr. Kingston?”

“Ahh, probably since he was about eleven or twelve, you know. We just thought it was teenage hormones, moodiness. They didn’t talk about it when we were kids, all this depression stuff, so we didn’t really know it was that we were dealing with. Well, I think I always had an inclining, but I just shoved it down, you know. He needs us to acknowledge it now, so we can get him well. Whatever that looks like going forward.”

“I want him back home with us,” she spoke hotly, “where I can keep a flippin’ eye on him!”

“Should’ve definitely gone for a fucking noose.” James thought darkly, actually snorting a small burst of laughter through his groggy state.

“Carole, he’s twenty-three,” Alan began in reasoning, “he’s a grown adult. You can’t babysit him every last second of the day.”

He smiled at that. At least his dad always fought his corner.

“I’m afraid that likely won’t be an option for him currently. He needs to be further assessed once his sedation wears off, but I personally will be recommending that James is sectioned under the mental health act.”

“Sectioned?” Carole spluttered, her mouth dropping wide. “You want to throw my son in some asylum? And what the bloody hell has he been sedated for?”

“Woo, I get to go to the funny farm,” he thought, his thoughts raining sarcasm. “Better than wrath of the mother, though.” Sarcasm was the drug-addled response, his temper placated enough not to begin vying for escape at the thought of being committed against his will.

Out in the corridor, his father feared for whoever was charged in actually moving him to the psychiatric facility he knew James would likely end up in, though. He might have been slight, but he was all lithe muscles and long limbs at six feet three. And god, he’d seen his son fight before when finally growing a backbone against his school bullies.

Sedated might be the best way to keep him, as much as it pained him, knowing his precious boy only had confinement and a course of medication that would probably zombify him in his immediate future.

“Mrs. Kingston, James was in quite a state while having his stomach pumped. He became extremely violent with a number of staff members attempting to treat him, so sedation was the only logical course.”

Sedation and restraint, his wrists burning beneath the padded leather cuffs that tethered him to the bed. Well, he had kicked one nurse in the chest and threatened a second with breaking her neck, he could just about remember. He felt bad about that. While he might have been a brawler when presented with anything that threatened him, James had never, ever been the type to hurt a woman.

Quite the opposite, he liked to think.

Women and his treatment of them were the last of his worries at that moment, though, listening for a little longer to what the doctor had to say before succumbing to the need to doze. He felt tired down to his bones. When he did come around again, he saw his dad he sat sitting at his bedside, Alan smiling wearily at him. In all of this, he was the last person he’d wanted to hurt. Truly though, he’d thought of little else as his life had faded upon the bathroom floor. Only his elation to leave it behind.

“It’s quiet. Where’s the duchess?”

At least his sense of humour was intact. “Gone to get herself a cuppa,” he confirmed, shuffling his chair closer as he reached to rest a hand on his arm. “Scared the bloody life out of me, you did. How you feeling now, kidda?”

“Sick, but not like I want to throw up or anything.”

Alan nodded, his forehead creasing with a deep line of concern. “Not surprising, with the number of tablets they had to pump out of your stomach.” His eyes saddened, thumb pressing against his inner elbow. “Why’d you do it, lad? You know you can always come and talk to your old man here, if you’re not feeling right, eh? Always said that, haven’t I?”

His mouth twitched, James trying to find a way to word it that wouldn’t hurt his dad more than he already was. Truly, there was little adequate recourse to the truth of the matter. “Just don’t wanna be alive no more, dad. It’s fucking meaningless, innit?”

“Here now,” he soothed, his hand reaching to grip his shoulder. “Don’t you say that, me lad. Got the bloody world at your feet, eh? The band’s starting to take off, you’re out there doing what you want to do. It’s got all the meaning in the world, mate.”

He sighed through his nose, his eyes falling down to momentarily gaze upon where he was restrained. “Nah. Don’t feel like that. Just feel fucking empty, dad.”

“Well, that’s apparent. The doctor thinks he knows why, and I happen to agree with him. Getting it through to your mother, though, different story. As you might guess.” He paused for a second, drawing himself up a little taller in his seat. “They think you’ve got clinical depression, kidda. If I’m honest, I reckon you’ve had it a while, you know. I blame myself, for seeing it and not doing anything, watching you become withdrawn and all that.”

James shrugged. “Ain’t your fault. Just the way I am, innit?”

“It doesn’t have to be, mate,” Alan stated, James seeing it there in his face, the fear, the anguish he’d caused. And he was still here putting him through it. Yeah. Fuck Steve for calling that ambulance. Fuck himself, too, for being like this in the first place and putting people through all of the worry. “They can treat it with pills, try and mend whatever it is in your head that’s broken. It doesn’t have to be like this, eh?”

“Wouldn’t be like this at all if people just let me die, like I want to.” He didn’t say that aloud, though, staying silent for a few moments, his eyes flitting over to the other side of the room.

“You want me to leave you alone for a bit, son?”

“Nah,” he sighed, turning back to his dad. “Can you undo these straps, though?”

“Can’t, mate,” he lamented, “you pose what they’re calling a significant violence risk. Apparently, you went full Vinnie fucking Jones on the team who were trying to save your life. Little shite.”

You little shite; it had been his dad’s go to since he was about three whenever he played up. His mouth twitched, something resembling a small smile curling the corner of his full lips. “Ain’t that little no more though.”

“Yeah, the nurse with a boot shaped bruise coming up between her knockers knows all about that!”

He puffed his cheeks, eyes widening a little. “Doubt I’m popular.”

“I’m sure she’s had worse than that in her time, kidda.”

“Yeah, but kicking her in the tits?” James exclaimed, snorting a little laugh. “That ain’t my style, dad. Not unless they like it a bit rough.”

The little snap of teeth his son followed that statement with had Alan wheezing with quiet laughter. “Bad lad. I’ll never bloody forget you coming down the stairs with that girl Helena, and the poor lass is doing her best to cover the bloody bite marks all over her chest with her hair. And then your mother sees ‘em and gives you the death glare. ‘So, you’ve been up there shagging all afternoon, have you?’ she shouts, and I’m sitting there trying not to laugh at the smug look on your face.”

God, Helena. That had been a while ago, the girl he’d been with for just over a year at sixteen. “Said she looked like someone had flung her in a piranha tank.”

Alan’s wheezing amped up considerably at that, a small slither of relief settling in him to see his boy smiling a little. It was a momentary reprieve in a harrowing situation. God, if Steve hadn’t been there. Alan had hugged him tightly upon arriving in the waiting room, thanking him over and over for kicking the bathroom door down and acting quickly, clearing the vomit from his mouth, wrapping his arms in towels and calling an ambulance. He’d saved him. He’d always been a good lad, Steve.

“Look at you now, though. Grinning like an idiot, being that smug little shite I love with all my bloody heart, mate. Can’t be that bad all the time, can it?”

James didn’t blame his dad for seeking out a silver lining at all, although the truth wasn’t so simple. “Doesn’t matter, dad. I can be onstage with the band, out drinking, biting on tits while I’m shagging some girl ragged, laughing my arse off and all that, but underneath I’m still the same. Still got all this shit I can’t get rid of.”

“I just don’t understand it,” he huffed, scratching his thick beard. No. And that was the problem. Nobody did. “We’re going to get you some help though. You just need to sit tight with it. You aren’t going to like this one bit, lad, but there’s talk of having you sectioned. I think the doctor wants to have you further assessed and they’ll go from there, but personally I think it’s the best place for you right now.”

“Do I have any say in that?”

His mouth straightened into a thin line, shaking his head. “No, son. Chasing thirty co-codamol and twenty ibuprofen tablets with half a bottle of San Jose and then opening up both your bloody arms takes that away from you. You need help, James. Help I don’t think you’d actively go and seek on your own.”

The hidden undertones were clear, rippling in worry just below his father’s strong surface. If he was allowed to leave the hospital of his own volition, he’d simply go and finish himself off and actually accomplish it. It was true, too. James had already earmarked the motorway bridge over the M6, should he find his way out of the looming threat of being sectioned. He doubted he’d survive a truck smacking into him at seventy miles an hour.

The door opened, revealing his mother, a steaming paper cup in her grasp. As soon as her eyes found his, she did what he least expected. She sobbed. He was expecting rage, a tirade, a full-blown stream of haranguing. For that moment, at least, it didn’t materialise, Carole striding around to the other side of the bed and placing her tea down, her throat pinched as she cried, reaching for him and stroking his hair as she kissed his forehead repeatedly.

“You, and it, and you could have...” Only squeaks followed, Carole hugging his head as she broke down. “You nearly died, James! You nearly flippin’ well died, you silly bloody thing! Why did you do it, love? What happened?”

He winced, feeling slightly smothered, the scent of her very strong perfume a little too much for his senses as she continued to hug him. “Like I just said to dad, it’s how I feel all the time. Just hollow, innit. Don’t wanna be here.”

Straightening, her hands went to her hips, cocking her head. “That’s bloody absurd!”

Oh, here she was.

“Carole,” her husband warned, “go easy. He doesn’t need chewing out right now.”

“I beg very much to differ!” Turning back to her eldest, she stared at him with wide eyes, James desiring nothing more than wishing he could unfasten himself and put some distance between them. “James, you need to snap out of this. Acting glum is one thing, but trying to kill yourself, without a second thought for your family?”

“Carole,” Alan spoke again, looking exasperated.

“It’s all this bloody black metal, isn’t it? Corpse paint and death! Bleakness and sorrow, you’re bringing it on yourself!”

Alan was just about to speak, his son getting in first. “Mum, I love you to bits, I do. That isn’t anything to do with it. Stop looking for things to blame it on. I’m not happy and I could listen to all that pop music shit like Sam does and it wouldn’t make a fucking difference, I-”

“Language!” she cut in with.

“Oh, piss off!”

“Don’t you bloody talk to me like that, my boy!” she raged through her tears, Alan standing up and moving quickly to her side of the bed.

“Come on, this isn’t happening now. He ain’t in the state to hear you being irrational. Go wait outside for me. Drink your tea and have a ciggie, calm down a bit, eh.” Picking up the paper cup, he steered his wife in the direction of the door, shushing her when she made further attempts at protest. “I know you’re upset, petal, but this isn’t about you. Go on, now.”

Shutting the door, he turned back to the bed, taking a very deep breath. “Better?”

“Yeah. Thanks, dad,” he confirmed, the unpleasant feeling in his stomach that his mother’s tirade had left beginning to sink again. It wasn’t her fault really; she was just very highly strung. She only did it because she loved her children deeply, but he and his younger sister Sam did often feel either stifled or prickled by Carole’s particular brand of parenting. “Can you do something else for me?”

“Of course I can, lad.”

He beckoned with a little jerk of his head. “Can you scratch my nose, just above the piercing? It’s driving me more mental than I already am.”

Alan beamed, wheezing a soft laugh. “Must be, kidda.” Reaching, he scratched at his nose, patting his cheek gently once done before he sat down again. “I remember when you did that. Ice, a whacking great bit darning needle, and blood all over the sink. Daft sod, eh.”

A doctor came in to check on him not long afterwards, telling him that for the immediate moment, he was being restrained under the mental health act on a temporary hold, subject to further assessment come the morning. He wouldn’t be allowed out of his restraints, or transferred to a ward. He would stay where he was until a bed was found at a psychiatric facility, the doctor assuring him they’d attempt to find somewhere within the Warwickshire area.

His dad only stayed a further ten minutes after that, James feeling woozy again after being administered a sleeping pill, the doctor feeling it best for him to stay medicated in order to rest after his ordeal.

“I’ll come by tomorrow on me dinner break to see you. Love you all the world, lad.”

Not being particularly affectionate, he didn’t expect to hear the same back, but the smile his son gave confirmed it. Poor kid, he truly couldn’t comprehend just how bent out of shape he was at that moment, but he could at least take some comfort in the fact that the problem he’d tried to pretend didn’t exist for so long was finally being treated.

As for James, all he could do as he fell into a synthetically delivered sleep was despair that he was still there to be treated at all.

#original fiction #original stories #romance fiction #romance stories #smutty fic #tw: suidice #tw: depression #tw: anorexia

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tassodelmiele · 7 months ago

Text

Noisy little mess

Hi sweetie ⁓

I swear to god i'm dreaming about the future plot lately, and I chukle in my sleep since it's so funny dealing with (stalking) the Task Force even if i shouldn't laugh about the things i'm thinking about and i'm so happy to see you've got the same problem as me.

Send hugs to wherever you are ⁓

DISCLAIMERS: clean from smut, but a lot of ignoring feelings and responsabilities; GhostxReader and his will to pretend she doesn't exist (spoiler, he fails); how-to-not-doing-a-mission-safely; a sprinkle of paternal chat; Task Force being misterious about their Lt.; ghosts scared of gnomes.

..................................................

Third part here:

..................................................

You don't know how you've managed to come back safely to your room.

What you do know is that, since yesterday, your Lt is nowhere to be found.

Oh, and you've finally got menstruations. Soap is the first one who gets aware of this, welcoming you at the breakfast table with the sweetest:

«Ye're finally bleeding, aren't ye?»

Gaz throws him a bunch of towels before Price manages to save the few left, hiding them under his plate.

You sit next to Johnny. It is so rare to have the Captain at breakfast, and it is even…suspicious. You swallow your oatmeal silently, gazing at Price till he murmurs: «What is it?» that smells like coffee and late night work.

«Mmmnothin'»

He sighs, finally raising his sight at you.

«Spit it out. What's wrong?»

«Mmmh…»

He sips his black coffee while exchanging a sight war with you, who're looking at him through the spoonful of chocolate oatmeal, eyes sharpened as a knife. Price leans toward you, willing to win the challenge, when Gaz suddenly asks:

«Have someone seen the Lt? I need to give him a-»

«Speaking of him-» you suddenly burst, breaking the eye contact with Price just to make him sighs for the second times in five minutes. He raises an hand toward your face.

«If you're seeking revenge for your injury-»

«I'm not» you reply almost immediately. «Even if he was a dick»

Price scolds you immediately with a threatening: «language, rookie»

You scroll your shoulders, knowing well you can push yourself so far just 'cause they don't really care about discipline towards each other. At least not at breakfast.

«He's disappeared. So: either he really is a ghost, and he vanished; or he's hiding from me»

Gaz was about to make a joke on your words, but he suddenly stops, with his fork still stuck on the omelet.

«…what? Why from you?»

«Ye'r not that scary»

«I bet i am»

«Hold on, hold on»

Price makes his way through the speech, raising his hands to gain silence. Then he looks at you like he's watching a child trying to convince an ice cream he's not about to eat it.

«So that's what it's going on» and murmurs to himself: «that bloody liar…»

You gasp in surprise, just to make some drama, and Johnny follows your move like a Victorian damoiselle. You slam your hands on the table before Price could speak again, or try to run away from his own words, and you suddenly remember about your elbow. Painful moans are choked in your guts as you spit out a too loud:

«Explain»

And Price answer with an abrupt:

«No»

And Johnny puts out his best puppy eyes, leaning on the table toward his Captain:

«Please! We need to know!»

«We?» John looks at him like he's surrounded by chatty widows. «Why in the bloody hell would you like to know somethin' you're not even involved in?»

«At this point 's a matter of principle»

«A what?»

«We're a team, secrets can't tear us apart»

«That's not a secret»

«Than speak»

«Is it about the fact that Ghost is either tryna kill or getting acquainted with her?»

Three pairs of eyes suddenly glare toward Gaz, who once again freezes with his fork balanced toward his mouth. He smiles nervously.

«…am I allowed to feel in danger?»

Johnny answer with a too sudden: «yes»

Price takes out a cigar with nonchalance, pointing it at Garryk « So you've noticed. At least one brain in my team is not totally burnt»

«Waitwaitwait» you bring back to you the attention, raising an hand to take the floor. «Is he really scared of me? That's why I haven't seen him around in 24 hours?»

«He told me he needed to figure something out 'cause of a problem you've made». Price gives you a look. «I've thought of talking to you about it, but… I'm not blind, rookie. And now that you've speak about him fearing you…i kinda understand what it's passing through his mind»

Gaz nods in agreement. Johnny takes his time to think about it, and after ten seconds of the other two staring at him he eventually realizes something.

Something that you're not getting.

Your eyes jump on their faces with the urge of the only gamer in the team who doesn't know how to cheat. Your fingers dig deeper in the cuticles as you see the three men stand up and make their way out of the dining hall.

«Hey! You can't leave with the secret all to yourself!»

«Sorry kid»

Price pat your head before waving at you, leaving you with what's left of your oatmeal and a few, terse words:

«If he'll feels like it, he'll tell you»

He stops. He suddenly turns serious.

«Do you think you're ready to show us how reliable you are?»

You falter, mumbling: «…yeah…?»

«Good. I've got a work for you, rookie»

Documents are on his desk. Not just any pile of paper: the pile of paper, the intel they were waiting for, the information they've searched for for almost three months.

Ghost is reading the sheets again and again. Yeah, there's no doubt: it's what they've needed, and it is there, on his desk, spawned out of nowhere when he was away for a…mission. Let's call it a mission.

He should be pleased. Happy to say the least, since this kinda intel's like food from heaven for the task force.

But he's…kinda lost in his thoughts. Almost annoyed.

«Who in the bloody hell…» he murmurs as he takes a look at the sheets, not even realizing that someone else has entered the room.

«your fav rookie»

Price's voice makes him fall from his thought's tree. Ghost glares at him through the mask, inspecting his Cap who's clinging on the door frame with a lot of nonchalance, arms crossed and an amused smile on his face.

«…ya'r not meaning-»

«I am»

«Mh»

«surprised? She did an hell of a job, in a good way» he comes in, shutting the door. «She's a good one»

«yeah…»

«That's all you've got?»

Ghost almost stops to breath; his gaze at Price's like laser beam, and he has to collect enough air to blow out a stern:

«Do ya need something else? 'Ve got work to do»

And Price waste no time to smile back a:

«Old demons eat your tongue?»

To what Ghost' s answer's a growl: «mh»

Price shakes his shoulders, approaching the door to go out. «Just an impression of mine»

Ghost's voice stops him at the door knob:

«Ya'r wrong»

«Mmm, yeah? About what?»

«Stop thinking about it, i know you are»

«Tell me what to think then»

«She's not like that»

«Oh, so there is a "she" in your brain»

«Don't read into it»

«You know what's fun?» the Captain comes back, taking a seat in front of Ghost, pointing at him with his judgmental finger «You're dealing with her like she's blackmailing you, or something. Nervous smiles, stupid revenges…»

«Bullshits»

«'S that so? And how do ya call the little problem during training session?»

«A problem. That's all»

«Ghost-»

«No»

He stands, turning his back at the Captain. And that, for him, was the end of the chat.

But not for Price.

«Is not a shame falling for someone»

And the Lt. gives him the coldest glare, jerking his sight at his Cap.

«I'm not» he spit with a harsh voice.

Price doesn't move. He checks his pocket, taking his first cigar of the day just to put it through his lips and chewing the tip lightly, eyes glued to Ghost's. The Cap. nods.

«Good to know» he murmurs.

That was the end of the story. Or at least Ghost has hoped so.

Three days later, he can't help but walk through the base with his eyes fixed on every rookie who stands in his way. He had searched the dining room every morning, checked the training field, the goddamn gym in the evening, even waited for a few minutes every time he passed by her room.

Nothing.

None.

No sign of aggressive gnomes around.

Ghost sips his black coffee in complete silence, glaring at everyone for no apparent reason. He needed to end that odd feeling, those annoying jumps of adrenaline, the bad sensation that something hostile was growing within his stern, cold behavior, breaking it from the inside, scratching away the metal wrap he had built to better control every inch of himself.

And he needed to have her in front of him, speaking out loud the reasons why she was eating his insides like a virus, and asking her, gently or not, to try her best and pretend the two of them do not know each other.

Feeling things for others, either bad or good…it wasn't for him.

«Bloody little idiot…»

«Hope ye'r not talking 'bout me»

Ghost's gaze raises as Johnny joins his solitary coffee-sipping ritual. He put his mug on the table, spreading around chocolate aroma.

The Lt. recognizes it immediately: «That's her goddamn pudding»

«I'm addicted»

Breakfast brings back silent eating and mumbling on caffeine. Soap devours his oatmeal, waiting.

'Cause he knows he just has to wait.

It takes Ghost just one minute and a half to burst out a pretended unselfish:

«Maybe she has eaten that much chocolate that she's become one bar»

«Mh?»

«She's nowhere to be found in person, it seems»

«Are ye searching for her?»

«'Cause of the intel she'd collected» he rushes a justification that Soap doesn't really buy. Johnny almost absorbs his last spoonful, chewing out words mixed with chocolate:

«Price's sent her on a mission. Confidential» he adds. «Dunno 'bout details»

Oh.

That was unexpected; so unexpected that Ghost bites his tongue after rushing out a too fast:

«When?»

The spoon falls in the mug with a metal tingle; Soap's side eyes reach Ghost.

«…are ye worried?»

«No» he bursts.

«Well, we are. Me and Gaz»

That doesn't sound like a lie, and Simon has to lower his shield made of pretending-not-to-think-about-her stuff. Soap keeps on, his eyes wandering around the crowded room:

«Maybe Price's overestimated her skills, dunno…or maybe she's just not ready. 'S strange not having news after three days»

«You two do like her»

Soap sighs, shaking away from his shoulders the morning stiffness.

«She's a good one. She's fun. But she's not so skilled on the field»

«You don't get worried about every rookie's first time. Sooner or later they'll have to be kicked out of the nest»

«If the one that's been kicked out 's ma fav sparrow chick, at least i hope that it'll fall on something soft»

«She's no chick, and not my fav» he rushes again, eagerly to end the conversation and get the fuck out of there. He stands, with a chuckling Soap next to him, who knows his Lt. too well and knows he just has to wait a little more, to give him time to elaborate his thoughts in a more sensible way.

Ghost's first impulse is always imposing himself as a threatening and leading figure. It's an habit.

But this time he doesn't have time to retry his answer.

A worried Gaz appears in the dining room, rushing toward them in some sort of urgency.

«You two» he breathes out, clinging on the table while regaining some air in his lungs «Do you want the good news, or the it-could-be-better news?»

«Were ye runnin' a bloody marathon at the fucking six in the morning?»

«Good new» Ghost answer, still holding his empty coffee mug. «Always good news first»

Gaz gazes at them, elaborating his words as best as he could: «…do ya remember the no-one's-going-to-do-that-mission topic in our last meeting?»

«That sort of suicidal duty 'bout sneaking alone in a mafia boss dirty party?»

Gaz nods. «That one»

«With none to cover your arse?»

«Yeah»

«That one Laswell was tryna to figure out so bad 'cause the goddamn boss had valuable infos 'bout big weapons traffic?»

«Aha»

«But none was that stupid to try it?»

«Soap». Ghost stops his Sergeant's stream of thoughts with a glare through the balaclava. «Cut it. What's the bloody good news 'bout it Garryk?»

«Mission's been accomplished» he spits, with neither a smile nor optimism, and a strange, worried look. Soap's eyes get wider.

«Are ye fucking kidding? Who's the idiot who tried it in the first place?»

Gaz sighs.

«'S our idiot»

It takes a bunch of seconds to link the description with a face, but your silly little smile rushes through their brain almost immediately. Soap stands up so fast the chair almost falls.

«WHAT-»

«The other news » Ghost's harsh voice talks over him, with a hint of hurriness, an almost audible tip of concern that he swallows.

And Gaz wastes no time:

«Now she can drain pasta with her arm»

..................................................

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nicoline1998enilocin · 1 year ago

Text

Sweet dreams

PAIRING | Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.3K

SUMMARY | Nice dreams are a rare occurrence for Bucky these days, and when he finally has a sweet dream, it's about you. When he wakes up in a good mood he doesn't want to tell you it was about you, so he starts avoiding you so he doesn't have to admit it and his feelings for you.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Sight angst, mention of passing of a parent, mention of a non-existent bond with a parent, implied unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, people!), Bucky is an idiot, and this one has a very happy ending.

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

You and Bucky got home from an undercover mission late last night and immediately went to your respective bedrooms to catch up on some much-needed sleep. Before you could even take your clothes off you fell onto your bed, sprawled out, and knocked out cold from the sleep deprivation from the mission. Bucky on the other hand was used to not sleeping much, so he was able to get ready for bed the way he usually would before sliding underneath his comforter and resting his head on the pillow. This time, the usual nightmares made way for a sweet dream, and it was quite unexpected to Bucky - he dreamt about you.

''May I have this dance?'' Bucky asked and you happily agreed, you have been thinking about dancing with Bucky for as long as you can remember, and now it is finally coming true. He's wearing his military uniform, you are wearing a red dress with butterflies on it, your hair was curled to absolute perfection and your lipstick matched your dress perfectly, making you look stunning. ''I've been dreaming of dancing with you for a while,'' he whispered in your ear and you let out a little giggle before returning the sentiment. ''You don't even know how much I've thought about finally getting this dance,'' you said and now it was Bucky's turn to get a little bit flustered. Usually, the girls he knew weren't so forward about their fantasies about other men.

''I will miss you when you're going on your next assignment, Bucky,'' you sighed as you looked deep into his steel blue eyes. You would never get enough of seeing them. ''Will you wait for me? Will you wait until I get back?'' he asked as he looked into your eyes, his eyebrows slightly raised, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. ''Of course, I will wait for you. I love you, Bucky,'' you said and he let out a deep breath he didn't know he was holding. ''I love you too, doll. I have for years and I'm glad I finally have the chance to tell you,'' he said before pulling the both of you off the dance floor and into a quiet hallway, he didn't want anyone to see the two of you. He grabbed your face softly in his hand and brought your face to his for a soft, gentle but promising kiss. In it were all the promises he could ever think of, and it would be the start of the rest of your lives together.

When you wake up the next morning you realize you've slept in later than you thought, but you didn't have any plans until 3:30 PM when the debriefing took place for the mission you were just on with Bucky. You changed into a black and white outfit, but you always like a pop of color, so you wear your new red jacket to complete your outfit for today. You just put your hair up in a ponytail and didn't wear any make-up, it was a pretty easygoing kind of day with some easy errands. When you were dressed, you walked towards the kitchen to grab some breakfast - or lunch, since it was almost lunchtime now - and ran into Bucky. ''Hey Buck! How did you sleep?'' you ask, and he looks at you before mumbling something you can't hear and quickly walking away.

''Can anyone tell me what's going on with him?'' you asked the guys sitting at the kitchen island, also eating their breakfasts. ''Did I do something wrong during the mission or something?'' you asked and you got worried you did something wrong, or something to offend him or something. ''I'm sure he's fine, Y/N, I'll go talk to him later, okay?'' Steve offered and you nodded, but you didn't have a good feeling about it. You just grabbed your breakfast out of the fridge, you were very grateful you made some before you went on the mission, and sat down with Sam, Steve, and Clint at the kitchen island. Their conversation went right over your head, but they didn't mind. They knew you just came back from a mission so they just let you be for a bit.

After your breakfast you decide to go run the errands you needed to do, it wasn't anything exciting, but it was nice to be out of the Compound either way. You picked up your prescription glasses since your old pair broke before the last mission, and wearing your spare glasses wasn't the most comfortable but it had to do. After that, you picked up a few small presents for Pepper since her birthday was coming up, and you decided to go and get something for Bucky in the hopes that it would make up a little for whatever you did. When all that was done you went to your favorite place in the whole city, a small bookstore owned by a good friend of your mom.

''Hi Gracie, how are you doing today?'' you said as you walked in and greeted your mom's good friend. ''Y/N, it's nice to see you! This red jacket looks stunnin' on ya,'' she said and it made you smile. You knew coming here was a smart move, especially on a day like today. ''Thanks! How are things going with the bookstore?'' you ask as you slowly let your eyes graze over the titles she sells, in your opinion, there's nothing better than curling up with a warm blanket, a cup of tea, and a good book, so you're always looking for new ones to read. ''Business isn't what it used to be, most people are readin' their books online now,'' she sighed, this was something she's been struggling with for a while. ''I get it, it's easier to read online, but for me, there will never be anything better than a good old book,'' you said, giving Gracie a reassuring smile.

''Have you visited your mom lately?'' she asked, and now that you think about it, you haven't. Ever since your dad passed away a few years ago, you haven't been home as much anymore, it was too hard to go there. Your bond with your mom has never been very strong, but you shared an incredibly close one with your dad, and his passing did hit you hard in the beginning. Now, you mostly went to visit her on her birthday and Christmas, but not much more other than that. ''No, but I really should visit her again soon,'' you said with a small smile on your face. Despite the lack of a bond, you still love her a lot and it does sound nice to see her again.

~ Meanwhile back at the Compound ~

''Buck, wait up!'' Steve said when he finally found him, he was on his way to the gym when he happened to spot Bucky in the hallways. Bucky turned around and greeted his friend with a smirk and stopped to talk to him. ''What's going on with you? This morning you practically ran out of the kitchen as soon as Y/N walked into the kitchen. Did something happen during the mission I should know about? Because if it-'' Steve said before being interrupted by Bucky. ''No, nothing happened on the mission. It's-, it's nothing,'' he said after thinking about mentioning his dream to Steve. It was something he wanted to keep to himself because he didn't know what he would do if this reached you.

''Are you sure? Because it certainly did not look like it was nothing. You know you can tell me if something is going on, right?'' he pressed a little, he was very worried about his best friend and if there was anything he could do to help, he would. ''Yeah, I know. Can you let me pass now? I have somewhere to be,'' he said, even though that wasn't true. He was just going to walk around the city to clear his head a little bit. ''Uh, yeah, of course,'' Steve muttered before stepping aside and Bucky walked away, out of the Compound so he could be alone with his thoughts for now. He decided to walk to a park nearby, and it seemed luck wasn't exactly on his side, because when he arrived he saw you sitting on a bench near the water, feeding the ducks.

''Bucky, hey!'' you said when you spotted him, and he just stood there frozen, not sure what to do. On one hand, he wanted to go over to you and sit there with you, but on the other hand, he wanted to turn around and walk in the opposite direction. He chose the latter option and walked back to where he came from, leaving you disappointed on your bench, tears starting to prick a little in the corners of your eyes. ''Is it me? Did I do something so horrible to me he doesn't even want to be in my presence anymore?'' you sighed as you asked the ducks. You knew they wouldn't give you an answer, obviously, but you were just wondering out loud for a moment. You sat there a little longer before heading back to the Compound, now you were dreading the fact that you had to do the debriefing with him.

When it was time to head to the debriefing, you quickly grabbed yourself a cup of tea to take with you, so you would have something to calm your nerves a little. Steve and Bucky were already in the conference room and they appeared to be having a bit of a discussion so you decided to wait outside in order not to bother them, you were still early anyway. ''I told you, nothing is going on, can you just drop it?!'' Bucky said as he raised his voice slightly. ''No, I can't. I care about both of you deeply, and this isn't normal for you Buck. You requested to be put on this mission, even though she would have been perfectly fine on her own, and now you act like this? I've known you long enough to know somethings wrong,'' he said, raising his voice now.

Before Bucky could give an answer you walked into the room, both men flustered at your sudden presence. ''How much-'' Bucky said before you interrupted him. ''Enough to know that something is going on. Please, Bucky, I can't do this. I don't want to feel like I've lost my friend, and it starts to feel like that more and more...'' you said, the same tears pricking in your eyes now as you grab your mug of tea a little tighter now that you sat down. ''Y/N, it's not you, you didn't do anything wrong, believe me. It just-'' Bucky said as he pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking carefully about his next sentence.

''I had a dream about you and I didn't want to tell you, because it's kind of embarrassing,'' he ultimately sighed, avoiding your gaze. Your mouth dropped open slightly. ''What kind of dream? Was it a sex dream?'' you asked and Steve turned red at the mention, he didn't want to know about that. ''No, it was a nice one. I dreamed about you and me, we were back in the 40s and I asked you to dance. During the dance, we confessed our love for each other, and we kissed,'' he said with a deep crimson color on his cheeks and down his neck. He never thought he would tell you this, but he honestly does feel a little better now that he did, even though he kind of expected you to get mad at him.

''Bucky, could you please look at me?'' you said and he did, he locked eyes with yours, and he was relieved he didn't see any madness in there or anything, instead he saw... love? Could it be true that you share the same feelings for him as he does for you? ''I do love you, not just in your dreams, but in real life too. I have been in love with you for as long as I can remember, but our friendship means a lot to me so I decided not to act on it. You mean more to me than anything in this world,'' you said, grabbing his hands from across the table. ''I- I love you too, Y/N, I don't know why I said anything sooner, but I'm kind of glad I did now...'' he sighed. ''Okay, I'll come back later, just shoot me a text when it's safe to come back,'' Steve said before he ran out of the room, he couldn't stand the sexual tension between you two any longer.

''C'mere doll,'' Bucky said and you got up, grabbing his hand when he stretched it out for you and pulling you closer. He pulled you onto his lap so both your thighs were next to his and you were straddling him, faces close together. Your lips barely brushed together but you could feel Bucky getting hard underneath you, and you would be lying if you said this didn't turn you on. ''Kiss me, Bucky, please,'' you whispered and with that, the small gap between the two of you was closed, and it felt like fireworks went off inside your bodies as you kissed, hands roaming over each other's bodies. Bucky lifted you onto the table before removing your pants and underwear, his own following soon after. The two of you made love for over an hour, and afterward, you still couldn't keep your hands off of each other, much to Steve's dismay. ''I wish I had just shut my mouth,'' he sighed before starting the debriefing, even though he was still happy for you both.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n

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