#(looks to be made out of the same material as his balaclava)

[russellius]

GUYS HE SOLVED IT

#george russell #bahrain gp 2024 #*m #f1 #*p #24 #bhr24 #bahrain #(he will actually see now??????????) #(looks to be made out of the same material as his balaclava)

[yawnderu]

Living Dead Man - Zombie!Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader

What is a husband but a man with a rotting body you can barely recognize?

CW: body horror, gore, tongue kiss with a dead man(?), is she wrong? morally, angst with a happy ending.

You examine the man as if he was under a microscope, milky white eyes staring back at you with the same intensity they always did. His balaclava was ripped off halfway, revealing a dislocated jaw, the bits of skin you could see while he was wearing his uniform were now all mangled up and pale, a contrast to the surprisingly soft skin Simon had before.

''Don't bite me.'' You warn and the zombie simply lets out a grunt in response. It has been a week since he turned, and it took hours of convincing the rest of the 141 to let you keep him— with the pretext that you could use him to try and find a cure, and maybe that was true. There was nothing you wanted more than to find a cure and turn your husband back to who he used to be. So far, nothing was working.

''I'm going to draw some blood, okay? It might sting a little bit.'' Your tone is gentle and so are your hands, carefully lifting off his uniform sleeve to reveal his forearm, needle penetrating one of his protruding veins until the blood collection tube was full of his dark, purple blood. You removed the needle, grabbing a cotton ball and taping it with medical adhesive tape. You sigh as you put down the materials, sitting down in front of your former husband... does it count as former if he's not completely dead?

''I miss you a lot...'' You start, speaking to him the same way you have been doing ever since he went nonverbal, unable to speak due to the zombification and broken jaw. Based on the grunts and the way he looks at you, you convinced yourself he can understand and knows who you are.

''I'm trying hard to find a cure. I mean, I like to believe I'm sort of close... but I don't know if it'll do much since the necessary organs are already decomposing. I'm sorry, I feel like I failed you.'' Your voice is strained as your gloved hands hold his, tears rolling down your cheeks as you silently sob, bringing his hands to your face and giving his knuckles soft kisses, the same way you did back when he was alive.

''I don't think I can go on without you, Si... I don't want a life without you.'' Your heart breaks more when you hear a soft grunt, a noise you became familiar with, the same sound he made before, comforting you when he knew you were down. Your head snaps up and you can see a small tear roll down his pale cheek, your eyes open wide as you bask in on the discovering.

''So you are sentient to some degree.'' Fuck Element 115 and fuck the zombie who bit your husband, the bastard is sentient! A scoff of disbelief escapes your lips as you smile up at him. You may not have a cure yet, but at the very least, he's not fully gone. Your hands gently caress his decomposing cheeks, testing the waters as you slowly lean closer.

Closer...

Closer, until your lips are touching his bloodied, decomposing mouth, the broken jaw forcing you to have an awkward angle to make it work. His mouth parts slightly and you take the chance to slip your tongue inside, holding in your breath to not throw up at the smell of his rot. Surprisingly, you feel his cold tongue wrap around yours weakly, his poor attempt to kiss you with the little control he has of his motor skills. You break away for a second to take a deep breath, hands cupping his cheeks while you look deep into his eyes.

''I love you. I wish... things were different. I heard they'll bomb the entire country to get rid of the evidence of the virus.'' A small chuckle escapes your lips as he simply stares at you, tears blurring your sight while you lean your head on his shoulder, tears rolling down your cheeks while you try to stay quiet.

''I don't know what to do, Si... There's really no hope. Even if I found a cure for you, we don't have access to any planes to get out of here, and any neighboring country would kill you if they see you.'' You feel cold hands attempting to hold your waist and you look up just to find he was already looking down at you. Perhaps you're that delusional, but you could swear his milky white eyes softened. You try your best to put on a small smile, even if it doesn't reach your eyes.

''At the very least... we're together. I'll see you in the next life, my love.'' He grunts softly in response and you let out a soft laugh. You ignore the panicked screams ringing through the base, closing your eyes as your forehead rests against Ghost's, one last display of love before the bomb hits, wiping out of everything you ever loved.

''Hey.'' You call out softly to your colleague, holding a skull glove that slipped out of his uniform. He turns to look at you for a few seconds, his expression unreadable even when he remains unmasked.

''Earth to Simon?'' You tease, waving the glove around for a few seconds before he gently takes it from you.

''Thank you... Stray, was it?'' He asks, one of his thin blond eyebrows raising slightly as he looks down at you. You nod your head, offering him a warm smile. You were just introduced by Captain Price, yet it feels like...

''Do I know you? You look familiar.'' A small smile is seen on his lips before he looks away, trying to keep his emotions in check. He thinks about his answer for a few seconds before it all hits you. He's...

''Ghost?'' You ask, tears rimming your eyes as soon as he nods, his arms wrapping around you tightly while he holds a hand on the back of your head, not wanting to let you see the tears escaping his eyes as well.

''Found you, love.'' A second chance at life with him.

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost angst #angst #ghost x f!reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley x you #mw2 angst #ghost modern warfare #modern warfare ii #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare x reader #angst with a happy ending

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x Reader

[ Chapter 15 ] || [ Chapter 17 ]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.3K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: I'm all for vigilante justice.

Chapter 16: Teeth

“Address.” Simon demanded as he crouched in front of you, a hand cusping your cheek.

“Simon… please…” You tried arguing.

“Address.” He insisted a bit more forcefully.

It was bizarre to see him in full gear. Black on black on black… And it was even more bizarre to be looking into the eyes of the nice, honest, respectful man you’ve been seeing but having his features hidden behind a skull. An actual, real life skull sewn to a black balaclava…

You can see the fire burning in his eyes through the skull’s eye sockets… You were severely wrong when you made fun of him for wearing a skull mask in public. It’s not silly… it’s downright terrifying…

It strikes you then that the person looking at you right now is the ‘Ghost’ and not Simon.

“He’s not going to be home… He helps Fridays and Saturdays at a friend’s pub…” You explained. “It’s called The Railway.” You said sheepishly.

Ghost caressed your face one last time with his hand, the rough material of his glove scratching your cheek lightly, the same way Simon.

Then, he pushed up on his knees to stand back up and turned. “Kyle, you stay with them.” 

“Roger that.” Gaz replied as he took a seat next to you on the couch.

“Johnny, on me.” Ghost said as he beelined for the front door of your apartment. 

“Aye.” Soap bounced up from his eat on one of your kitchen chairs and gave you a friendly tap on the shoulder before he took off after Ghost.

You watched them go until the door closed and then turned to look at Gaz. “They’re not going to kill Ethan, right…?”

“No. But he might need dentures once they’re done.”

-

You’re awoken by Kyle stirring next to you. You’ve fallen asleep on the couch, basically draped across Kyle’s body, his arms wrapped around your body protectively, as you laid between his legs, your head against his shoulder.

“Sorry, lovie.” He told you as he ran his lips over your forehead in a wisp of a kiss.

“Wha-” You murmured as you rubbed your eyes before pulling back to look at him.

“Johnny just texted… They’re downstairs, lovie.” He told you, causing you to slowly slip out of his embrace.

You pulled back to the other side of the couch and yawned, feeling the blanket he draped over you both falling off you and exposing your back to the cold air.

Rising up to your feet, you approached the intercom and buzzed them in. Kyle followed after you, bringing the blanket along, making you giggle a bit when you felt him wrap the blanket and his arms, around you.

Johnny and Simon came jogging up the stairs as you and Kyle waited by the open door. “Hi…” You greeted them both. 

“Hi, sweetheart. Wait a moment, we’re dirty.” Simon told you, his voice a lot more gentle than it had been as him and Johnny came up the steps.

They stepped inside and before either of them touched you, they took off their gear at the door and dumped them in a pile on the floor next to Kyle’s. Gaz and Ghost had rushed over upon getting Soap’s call… and good thing they came all kitted up. They needed it, as it turns out.

Only after removing their gear and washing their hands in the bathroom, did they come over to you and Kyle who were sitting on the couch again.

Simon came to sit across from you, atop the coffee table and gently held your hands. “How are you feeling?” He asked you, his voice kind, caring, soft… His brown eyes looking at you like he expected you to flinch away from him at any moment.

There was a deep-seated fear of being Simon (and only Simon) in him. It made him need some type of cover on his face… One he could justify to you under the guise of his scarring and deformities… 

But there was also a need in him to keep ‘the ghost’ as far from you as possible… Having come into your flat as Ghost before departing to go find Ethan had ruined those chances… So he knew that he had no choice but to fully shed Ghost and his mask at the door to your flat and bear himself to be just Simon to you. And never risk bringing him in again. And so he did. 

For the first time, Simon had no face covering at all, having tugged off his skull mask and balaclava and chucked it at the pile of gear by the front door. 

And you were still looking at him like he was the most beautiful thing you’ve seen, your eyes softened and fond as you regarded him. 

“I’m okay.” You assured him after a beat of silence.

Simon nodded and his left hand cupped your face again, his thumb rubbing your bottom lip.

“Oh, by the way.” Simon remarked and dug around in his pockets before handing you a keyring with a couple of keys and a singular metal heart keychain attached to it. “Believe this is yours.”

Taking the keys in your hand, you huffed, recognizing the keys to your flat and the keychain engraved with your anniversary date that you had gotten for you and Ethan once you had moved in together a year and a half into your relationship.

“I can’t believe he still had a copy… I could’ve sworn he gave it back…” You said as you looked down at the stupid heart. You had gotten rid of yours once the relationship ended, throwing it into the bin and having long since taken out the bag with it to the rubbish collection.

“He did.” Johnny said. “He fessed up he got a copy made.” He added bluntly.

“Piece of shit.” You insullted him and immediately set the key down next to Simon on the coffee table before shaking your head and leaning back on the couch, arms crossed.

“Now I wish I went with.” Kyle remarked next to you.

“Kyle!” You scolded him and he shrugged.

“What? He deserved what he got…” He said, causing the other men to nod in agreement.

“But I doubt he’s going to bother you again.” Simon added.

“You didn’t kill him, did you?” You quipped, which caused him to chuckle, his lips morphing into a smirk.

His smile… God, is he beautiful.

“No… Just broke a couple bones.” He assured you, making you sigh and nod in relief.

“Thanks, by the way...” You told them. “I don’t- I don’t think I should be thanking you for beating up my ex but…” You trailed off.

The three men around you chuckled at your words and shook their heads.

“Aye… Don’t worry. We needed to get some boxing in either way… only turned him into a bit of a punching bag.” Johnny quipped from the side, making you look toward him for the first time since they came in.

“Thank you.” You told Johnny directly. “You didn’t need to help… in any of this really.” You explained.

Johnny clicked his tongue and gestured vaguely with his hand, as if deflecting your gratefulness.

“No need.” He said with a light smile and crouched by your side, rubbing your forearm with his hand. “I wouldn’t have let you deal with that mess at the shop by yourself… Especially not when you’re with my mates.” He added.

Smiling softly you nodded at him agreement. Johnny seemed like a good sort. No wonder Kyle had so many stories of times spent with him while on leave… He had regaled you with plenty of them while Simon and him were gone taking care of Ethan…

And as you sat surrounded by the three of them, you felt quite alright.

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

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

#ikea writes 💚 #it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader

[alwaysshallow]

prompt: You’re a retired S-tier supervillain. After you retired, you married a B-tier hero. You are forced back onto the stage when an A-tier villain attempts to kill your spouse. Ghost x reader

A/N: i don't know if i hate this or i like, so. it's yours to decide lmfao. especially that's a tiiiiny part that i decided to wrote bc i was bored.

Everyone wants to live happily ever after.

Not exactly a quiet life, but not too loud either. A perfect balance, where you have all the things (or almost all of them) to be happy, fulfilled in life.

Life that wanted your mother for you, before it all went down. Before you turned evil, as she liked to say.

You try to tell yourself that you deserve every inch of it, but you still miss the thrill of the hunt, blood on your hands, the way you just ruled the city like you wanted. Unbothered.

When your husband doesn’t look, you take out your mask, hidden carefully behind all those unopened cartons from your wedding. He thinks you burned all of your past, and here you are. Hiding it like a precious possession, so carefully.

It took you long enough to earn it—you don’t think you quite deserve it, but it’s nice to be a wife that can greet her husband every time he comes home from work. Every time he mentions something about you joining him, but it could be quite a laugh, you say.

A retired villain turned superhero. You’d rather die than make it happen, but that’s what your husband doesn’t know.

Well, he doesn’t know a lot of things.

For example, he doesn’t know how conflicted you are. Unconsciously, you think that you sabotage all of those happy moments. Overthinking stuff, asking yourself if you’re really in a good place, if you made a right decision; if a man is worth giving up your career.

Your whole life, if you want to be petty enough. Your whole life changed because of him—hell, you even changed in some way. Less snarkier, more laid back, so you wouldn’t be degraded to trophy wife, burned out villain in front of his friends and family.

Make them proud, he said once, before a meeting with his friends. Meeting that turned to complete disaster, heading home way earlier than you were supposed to because superhero bullshit bored and annoyed you enough.

But you tried to put up with it. Convince yourself that it is your fate, not the villain route that you chose before.

Fate hits you right in the face, when you enter your apartment to see three significant changes.

Your husband is tied like a pig on the table. Tight.

The apartment looks like a tornado went through it.

And three—

“Took you long enough.”

Yeah. That’s three.

You almost want to laugh. A bandit-like balaclava could scare a lot of people, but not you—not when you know him inside out. Not when you basically competed with him your whole life before.

Yeah. Before. Before you met your husband, before you two got married, before you decided to retire. The taste of this decision is bitter on your tongue, just like the thought that you feel excited for the first time in months because there’s potential danger. Something breaking you out of the routine.

“Normal people do groceries around this hour.” You shrug casually, taking a few steps; the intention of untying your husband falters the moment Ghost blocks your way, amused. You raise your eyebrow. “Come on—”

“—What? Scared?”

“No. But he has probably nothing to do with your business,” you point out, harshly. He lets out a scoff.

“Said that he’s gonna call cops on me. Very unfriendly behavior from a superhero, won’t you agree?” He tilts his head with a theatrical manner.

“I’d do the same,” you murmur under your nose, taking out the material that Ghost gagged your husband with. Carefully, your hand lands on the ropes, until Simon stops you.

“We have better things to do,” he says, his voice low. “Gotta step out from that wife role for a moment, ‘m takin’ you. He’s gonna do fine.”

“You’re taking me?”

“I am, yeah. A problem?” He arches an eyebrow, his grip tight on your wrist. Attacking him is useless, especially when he knows how you want to do it; he’s quick to pin you down against the counter. His front is hot against your ass—he laughs, as he’s almost able to feel your humiliation. “Won’t do anythin’ right in front of your husband, don’t worry. Or, will I?” he looks down at you, expression mocking.

“I hate—”

“Mm. Yeah, won’t do me good.”

And then, you’re out.

#seriously i want to delete this and redo lmao im just. ugh #struggles are struggling #simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #x reader #cod x reader #call of duty fanfic

[multifandomimagin3s]

That'll do, MacTavish

Requested by Anon

Summary: You're Soap MacTavish's sibling, and he finds out you have a crush on Ghost.

A/N: Reader is a medic, I tried to keep this gender-neutral

From a young age, you and Johnny had been practically attached at the hip; throughout your school years, he was always there watching out for you - claiming it was his duty as your big brother. He always tried to protect you from anyone and anything, and he knew that you would do the same. You told each other everything...well, almost everything.

Your blossoming relationship with Ghost had blindsided the both of you - he was a closed-off man, who didn't accept his feelings for you for a while; he knew what a crush felt like, he's no stranger to the feeling, but it's been so long since he's been able to let his guard down that he's more than hesitant to do so. Ghost didn't like to be vulnerable, as the feeling came with unpleasant memories that he'd rather keep buried deep down in his subconscious.

It started off small - he told you when his birthday was (only the month and the date), his favourite bourbon, the foods he liked; superficial information, as if he was testing the waters to see if he could trust you. In front of the team, he didn't change his tone of voice but the words he used were slightly less coarse when directed towards you - he didn't want to be accused of favouritism or having a soft spot for the medic; a weakness.

He would come to the medbay more often - he wasn't the type to seek medical attention unless he really needed it, and even then he'd rather patch himself up and get on with it. He'd came to you with a gash on his forearm, crudely wrapped in gauze and a dirty bandage. "Bastard slashed me with a knife." You nodded as you unwound the stained material, exposing the wound to the air - it wasn't too deep but it would definitely require some stitches, so you got to work.

You'd noticed how his eyes were trained on your face, gaze unreadable; he'd taken his outer mask off, his face obscured by his signature balaclava. This was new. You placed his forearm on the sterile table, washing the wound with saline," It's a bit cold, might sting a wee bit." He didn't make a sound as you began to sew the wound closed, the only indication that he was able to feel the sensation was that his fingers twitched in discomfort.

You'd never noticed how soft his eyes were - a warm brown, with pale blond eyelashes, a contrast to his hard exterior. Ghost cleared his throat," Good work, MacTavish." His gruff praise made you crack a small smile, pressing an adhesive bandage over the closed wound.

"Thank you, Sir." He remained in his seat, his gaze wandering over your face, before he wordlessly got up, briskly walking out the door. You let out a breath that you didn't know you'd been holding - you had a crush on your superior.

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

"I know you fancy someone," Johnny bumped your shoulder, a teasing smile on his face. You knitted your brows together, eyeing him with a confused look," Don't even deny it, I know you too well, so tell your big brother."

"I don't fancy anyone," You rolled your eyes, ignoring how he stared at you curiously, his steps picking up the pace so he was walking in front of you. There was a beat of silence, which made you think he'd given up his questioning for now. You were wrong.

He span round so he was facing you, walking backwards in time with each step you took. "Is it... Gaz?" You didn't respond. "Price?" Silence. "Ghost?" Your steps faltered a bit, your cheeks dusting a light pink as you scrunched your face up in annoyance. Johnny halted, a smile slowly spreading on his face. "It is, isn't it?!" His face lit up like a kid on Christmas day, as he clapped his hands together, teasing you in a sing-song voice, "Ooh, I'm gonnae tell 'im~"

"Johnny, don't be a fanny,*" You chided, folding your arms over your chest. This was precisely why you didn't want him to know, in typical brotherly fashion he loved to wind you up - you didn't want to give him any fuel to take the piss out of you. And you also didn't want your little secret to be spread around the base.

"I'm only joking," He smiled cheekily, hands raising in faux-surrender," So, how long have you fancied the pants off of Lt.?"

"Oh my god, shush."

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

"Don't start." You turned to eye your brother, your sixth sense knowing that he was going to start teasing you before he'd even opened his mouth. The team had decided to go to the local pub after a mission gone well and you had tagged along.

"You don't even know what I'm gonnae say," Johnny retorted, a teasing edge to his words. He looked over his shoulder briefly, a smile forming on his lips," A certain someone is staring at you, you should talk to him."

"Shut up," You took a sip of your drink,

"I'm being serious," Johnny said a quick 'cheers' to the bartender, picking up his pint," If you're wanting to profess your undying love to him, this would be a good time as any."

"Aye right - sling your hook*, Johnny."

The sound of someone clearing their throat caused both of your heads to turn. There stood Ghost, tall and imposing. A faint blush rose on your cheeks - you wondered how long he'd been standing there, and how much he'd heard. "I'm heading back to base," Ghost gruffly stated, mulling over the words he wanted to say in his mouth," Care to join me?"

You smiled," Of course, Lieutenant."

As you gathered your things, saying your 'goodnights' to the team, your brother's voice called out to you: "Be safe - better not make me an Uncle before our next deployment."

"That'll do, MacTavish."

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #call of duty #cod #multifandomimagin3s

[thewriterg]

MATURE/DARK THEMES, NON PROOFREAD MATERIAL, & NUDITY. READ WITH CAUTION

Ghost found himself setting up for you as he usually did around this time of month the mirror he stood in front of was steamy his balaclava secured over the imperfections of his face as he sat down th-

no no no

He was Simon, Ghost… was long gone from here by now

Simon found himself setting up for you as he usually did around this time of mon-

There was another one, it wasn’t the time of the month this was abrupt, unexpected, sharp and blunt giving you no time to prepare

Simon found himself setting up for you as he usually did trying to absently find a familiarity from it all he was used to the unfamiliarity he was a soldier in the SAS at that he didn’t bat an eye when there was a revised order going over his coms he carried it out accordingly protecting his soldiers in the process

But just about nothing could prepare him for this it wasn’t in his training, or in a handbook, or in any type of manual. He was to the point where he began to construct one on his own because for the first time he didn’t have anything to say yet the image of you in that position… it was indelible burned into his brain with a freeze marking branded into his skull

You slumped against the wall blood smeared between your thighs and the tile of the bathroom floor while staining your hands all at the same time a few stray tears sliding down your face even though it looked like you’d been crying for hours on end and Ghost Simon could corroborate the fact because majority of it was partially dry and tacky on the fingers rather than wet and thick to the touch

His head hurt and screamed at him for not being there sooner for not staying home with you even though his gut had screamed at him in advanced when you didn’t get out of bed with him like you usually did when you didn’t share your accustomed routine of you sitting on the counter him standing between your legs as the kettle screeched in the comfortable silence of your shared flat

But no

It wasn’t like that today,

Today you didn’t slip behind him and wrap your arms around his toned waist while lying your head on his back while he brushed his teeth in front of the mirror, Today you didn’t help him become Ghost early morning just so he could travel to base to come back to you in the evening, Today you didn’t sit on the counter while he stood between your legs, Today you didn’t fuss over him taking an extra jacket or doubling up on socks because of the cool weather Today you didn’t bid him goodbye at the door before going on with your own day you stayed

Today you just didn’t.

Instead he got ready alone without you clinging to him using him as your personal space heater, Instead he put in his own mask becoming Ghost by himself, Instead he sipped his own tea alone and extra cup made for you that he would sit on your nightstand, Instead today he didn’t bring an extra jacket or double up on socks and he found it ironic how today he ended up being cold while cool wind nipped at his skin, Instead he was at your bedside on his knees pressing a kiss to your forehead urging you pain killers and the cup of tea he made you making sure you downed it before putting you back to rest and making his way out the door

You can’t kick yourself you didn’t know would happen

Simon tried to reason with himself but Ghost had won the battle before it even began he should’ve knew, all the signs were in his face flashing red, he should’ve stayed.

He should’ve stayed!

He could’ve stayed,

He wished he stayed.

Instead of lying down a pad or tampon on a set of military style folded clothes or wrapping bandages around your thighs like you were thinking

He lied down a pair of ‘Postpartum Incontinence Underwear’ as it read on the packaging,

But you didn’t just bare a child

There was no nursery put into place at your three bedroom flat

There was no sign of a child

Instead for the newborn onesie that you had made yourself because all of the other ones you had looked for online were corny and non fitting with bright colors and the same saying on each one “hello daddy see you soon!” or “can’t wait to meet you!”

So you had bought a plain black onesie the smallest on the rack and had printed the words “I was daddy’s fastest swimmer” with a tadpole looking sperm cell under it and when Simon had it presented to him along with two tests with those pink lines, a pack of pacifiers, and little black soft bottom converse, had him letting out a breathy chuckle tears collecting at his waterline before engulfing your frame entirely spinning you around in a circle as your giggles echoed off the walls

It was just a memory now it was no longer a reality as Simon cleaned the blood off the floor that had took a fraction of forever to get up and he didn’t even want to mention the placenta, His head ticked upwards as he heard the running water shut off immediately coming to a stand military perfect

When the curtain drew back your bare body was in front of him he had seen it more time then he could count but this time it was different you were tense, eyes foggy, not acknowledging your surroundings.

you were glad you hadn’t told anyone else

What wouldre took you six stepts to get you to the shower from the door took him two While helping you out the shower with rough hands but a gentle touch he reaches for a towel he had lied out wrapping it around you the sofest one he could find gently urging you to sit on the cold porcelain toilet settling on his knees lying a hand on your thigh whilehe tried was to cry

He hasn’t since Beth, Joseph, and Tommy

But he needed to be strong

He took the disposable underwear Slipping it up your legs and to your thighs the gentless of it was almost cherishing worthy

How ironic

He finished getting you in appropriate attire which only consisted of one of his shirts the dropped you the beginning of your knees along with a pair of loose fitting sweat pants to keep pressure off you abdomen and vulva

It shouldn’t have been this way

Simon led you to you bedroom gently setting you down on the usual cloud like mattress felt like the tip of an ice berg in your side you didn’t even hear Simon walk out of the room you didn’t hear him come back minutes later with a cup of tea with a confirmation on his lips

“Gonna take you to the hospital tomorrow darling” He muttered setting the cup on your nightstand his voice soft like if he were to speak to loud he would break you

He noted how you didn’t respond nor look at him just staring at the wall eyes glossy and glazed over in fog it hurt his chest, After pressing a kiss to your forehead he slipped next to an arm wrapped gently over your hip

The next days were a blur

At the hospital you had mother to say to Simon or anyone for that matter the way that you sat in a void state of mind on that table in that disposable gown…

The nurses gave sympathetic looks that you didn’t catch asking you questions you didn’t answer to the point where they just directed everything to Simon and he had to keep himself seated in his chair grounding himself from jumping out when one of the nurses uttered

“At least it happened now rather than later”

He didn’t care if you were only 6 weeks.

You could’ve been 6 days for all he cared nothing would’ve softened the blow,

The only noise you’d made is when they had checked around your lower abdomen and your vulva putting the slightest pressure on it that you letting out a small grunt and had Simon out of his seat by your side in a second

Simon remembered everything, you only remember the warm engulfing feeling in your palm and the rest was a blur of nothing

Once you were back dressed still in loose clothing a matching sweat suit that he had to dress you in the nurses gave him a run down of what he might see in your behavior and body in the next week or so and the medication you were getting prescribed ibuprofen and misoprostol and-

Somehow you you were back in bed the cold sheets against your skin while Simon approached the bed the pills in hand as he sat next to your legs a warm hand running up your calf it felt familiar too familiar but you couldn’t place it

Just how long has it been,

You’d took you ibuprofen and the more exposing part of it card where Simon had slipped your underwear from you thighs having to insert the misoprostol in a aching place leaving it to disintegrate for half an hour

He had seen your body plenty times but this time it was embarrassing and degrading no matter how soft his touch was and without any words he was sliding next you cradling your back making bc sure you were asleep before drifting away

When the alerting temperature change of the sheets under him awoke Simon from his sleep he was immediately up scoping around the room for your trace with deadly precession his heart pounding in his ears

But thankfully his heart didn’t fail before he saw you in you closet a small box open by your legs as you cradled that onesie to your chest faint sniffles erupting from your nose and all he could do was hold you close

Holding all the pieces together

As the days passed on Simon was more and more concerned for you as the days passed and it sounded insane when the words came out of his mouth but you were doing too… well

The day after you we’re suddenly up, and bright, and talking after being mute for almost a four days your voice was back like it never left and he had to remind you to rest instead of gently pushing you up to take your medicine and stretch your bones

He was internally begged you to cry, scream, grieve anything other than that stale smile

You’d also been taking excessive time on your laptop typing up things that he hadn’t gone over with you and it was abnormal you had published one of your firsts books last year using a pen name and your sales were going amazing still to this point but the timing was off

Simon had an idea of how you felt in the beginning of your relationship when he was cold towards you while you were begging for any crack to slither through his walls he built around himself but he thought this was worse as he sat on his knees while you looked up from your laptop blue glasses secured on your face

“Please love just, just tell me what you need… what’s the matter?” And you stared down at him before shutting your laptop a little chuckle escaping your lips as you bent down to kiss his cheek

“Nothings wrong Si, I’m gonna go shower ‘kay?” But you were already leaving before he could give you a response

His eyes adverted to your laptop it was wrong, but he was worried about you.

Should he betray your trust and invade your privacy for the truth or let you come to him yourself along with the possibility of you never telling him.

Gently peeling the cover open he was greeted with the sign in page where he had to type in your password and he held back a grimace at what he was about to do but as his fingers moved along the keyboard making sure to hit every single one correctly and a sharp breath was sucked in through his mouth and out through his nose

You’d change the password.

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[tonnerredebrest]

Maybe max is sick but his father forces him to drive and he faints after the race in the paddock but some drivers or principals come to save him (maybe seb, Kimi or christian, toto)

*sighs*, another Max & Simi sick fic, another one! /jk

I love writing that dw

Set somewhere during Max’s first years at Red Bull. 

TW: J*s Verstappen, abuse

*****

“You will get into the car, and you will drive today!”

Jos's voice boomed in Max's cool-down room. He was practically looming over his son, using his whole body to shade him. 

“But Papa,” Max coughed out, “I can't breathe correctly!” He knew his father wouldn't care, but he had to try. 

“No excuses, Max,” his father replied. “Remember? No. Excuses,” and he left, as simple as that. 

The driver coughed again and shivered. He didn't know what was wrong with him. Since that morning, he felt sick, alternating between coughing and moments of heavy Vertigo. Sometimes he shivered too. Yeah, he was definitely sick.

Yet, he had a race that day, he couldn't miss it. His dad would make sure he wouldn't miss it. Maybe if he talked to Christian, he would be able to get to medical and be declared sick…

Max shook his head. No, that won't be possible either. Helmut Marko was looming around the paddock too. Max knew for a fact he’ll do everything to make him race, and if that meant preventing him from getting to medical, he would do that. 

Looking at his race suit, he resigned himself. He zipped up his fireproof and went to the garage. At each step, he felt the world turning around. At each step, he felt pain in his whole body. 

Getting in his car was a challenge in itself. The material of his clothes rubbed him the working way, making him oversensitive to them. The harness pressed the suit near his body, accentuating the overall uneasiness he felt. His hair was too hot under his balaclava and helmet, making him want to scratch it off. 

In a fit of lucidity, Max almost screamed that he wasn’t feeling well. Almost, because at the same time he had gone to push the radio button, his whole body shivered and he coughed. When he got his mind back on track, the moment was gone, and the start was bout to be given. 

It’s lights out, and away we go!

Max was third, and he miraculously didn’t lose his position. Yeah, a Renault had pushed him hard from behind, but he didn’t give up. The first corner had been rougher than the start. His palms were sweaty under his gloves, making the material stick and overwhelming him a bit. Max almost missed a gear change, and his finger almost slipped. He went too wide, and that Renault overtook him. 

The Red Bull driver knew the track, he drove here last year and the years before that. There was no denying he wasn’t familiar with it. Yet, Max had never raced it while being sick as a dog. He missed the apex, twice, something he had never done before. 

Behind him, it was now a McLaren bullying him into the gravel. Max groaned. He may not be at the top of his form, but that doesn’t mean he won’t go down in a fight. At the next corner, he defended like crazy, and the papaya car seemed to have understood there was no way they’ll pass. 

The first lap had been the roughest, as Max had to learn how to drive when his whole body isn’t cooperating with him. The second was a little easier, the third had been a nightmare as he took a curb and the shockwaves reverberated throughout his body. 

At some point, the race became a blur, as Max was simply trying to maintain his position. Sadly, that McLaren did overtake him with half laps to go. The Dutch driver got angry with himself and sneezed a little more on the lap following his fall to fifth place. 

The pit stop he made around the middle lap had been a grace sent from heaven, just a little moment of calm before the tempest. Gear changes were difficult, but luckily for him, his car had power steering, because he felt his arms were sore with ten laps to go.

As he went through the last lap, he felt his engine losing power. Or it might have been his foot, he didn’t know. Behind him, the other Renault was forced to make way. Max did everything he knew, but there was no way to fight when your own car is against you. As he passed the finish line in sixth place, he felt his body get numb. 

His body didn’t produce adrenaline anymore, probably Max had hit its limit, and he felt himself slowly getting off that high. He parked his car in front of the Red Bull garage, and let himself breathe. At least he beat the Ferraris, both had mechanical failures somewhere around the beginning of the race. 

Max got out of his car with much difficulty. He felt cold and hot at the same time. He couldn't help but shiver, even if it hurt to do so. His race suit felt as if it was made of spikes, and hurt his flesh. His balaclava was sticky and full of sweat. He didn't have much force left in his arms but he managed to take off his helmet too. 

Mechanics were gushing around him, tending to the car. They didn't care about Max, only one or two congratulated him for the race. They didn't notice how the Dutch driver was shivering like a leaf, or how he seemed to have difficulties walking. Max felt the world spinning too fast under his feet, and he couldn't walk straight.

In the distance, he could see his father coming for him, an angry look on his face. Max gulped down and went in the opposite direction. (Un)luckily for him, that meant he was heading to the Ferrari side of the paddock. He looked back again, and his father wasn't far. Yeah, he'll have to come up with some excuse because there is no chance he will see his dad.

Max used the wall as support, and slowly got where he wanted. He can see the two Ferrari drivers talking to each other, they are well within earshot. The Dutch driver thought he was safe, as his dad won't try anything in front of a rival team. Yet, he didn't take into account a sudden surge of dizziness. The world spun too fast, and Max felt himself fall, hitting the ground.

“Are you sure he is Ok?” a voice asked, while Max was groaning.

His head hurt like crazy as if someone had trampled it. He tried to open his eyes, but there was too much light for him.

“We should take him to the medical centre,” another voice said.

“He won't go that far, he already had trouble walking before he fainted.”

The voices got quiet, and Max could finally think again. His whole body hurt, and he still felt sick. The last thing he remembered was him going to the Ferrari garage. Why was he laying on the ground now? He tried to get up, but someone pushed him down again.

“No, stay still Max.” It was a gentle voice, soaked in a soft German accent.

“Why?” He managed to croak out.

“You fell, and hurt your head.” This time, it was another voice, sharper, heavily imprinted by a Finnish accent.

Max realised it was the Ferrari pilots, Seb and Kimi, who were watching over him. They were the only Finno-German pair on the grid, and it made sense since they were the closest to him when he blacked out.

“I... home,” the Dutch driver tried again. He wanted to lay on his bed and forget this day had ever happened.

“Shh, medical is coming to get you,” replied Seb, gently running a hand in the younger's hair.

Max moaned in pain, letting himself go away again.

~~~~~

Max felt he was floating. It was a good feeling, one he missed a lot. Under his fingers, soft sheets were rumbled, soothing his senses. Something was making his hair more. After some time, he realised it was a warm hand. Max sighed at the touch. It had been a long time since someone treated him this gently.

“Do you think he's asleep,” someone asked, so quietly Max thought he had hallucinated it.

“He didn't move for two hours,” another person said. “He's out cold.”

Max chose that moment to groan, moving a bit. The hand in his hair left, and the Dutch driver moaned at the last.

“Shh,” that first voice said again, “go to sleep, you are tired.”

Max took some time to think. Those voices were belonging to Sebastian and Kimi. He wondered why the Ferrari drivers were near him. He didn't own them anything, why would they be here?

“He's awake,” Kimi changed his mind. “Let the boy awake.”

“He fainted, he should rest more,” Seb protested, his hand going back into Max's hair.

The younger tried to open his eyes, but the lights were too bright. They were hurting his eyes, so he closed them again. Someone chuckled at the sight, but Max couldn't pinpoint who it was.

“Shh, it's OK, you are safe,” Seb whispered in his ear.

Another hand joined the German's, gently massaging his head. Max sighed and thought he could stay there just a little more if it meant the two reassuring presences would stay by his side too.

*****

#Simi #formula one #formula 1 #fanfic #ao3 works #sebastian vettel #kimi raikkonen #max verstappen

[herskind25karstensen]

replica dior scarf 16

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Gucci Belt Comparison & Try

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