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me-loving-woso · 5 months ago

Text

Today. Tomorrow.

Author's note: Hi everyone! So I know I've been MIA for several months. But I'm back! This fic will be divided into 3 parts cause I've realized that I can't write a short one-shot. In no way am I an expert in medicine. The information is from Greys Anatomy and the internet. I apologise in advance if I offend anyone Summary: You never thought you'd find love under these circumstances, but sometimes, love works in mysterious ways. For you, it came in the form of Aitana Bonmatí.

TW: Illness, Cancer, Surgery, Happy Ending

You've just returned to Barcelona after being away due to your job. You were an art restorer and had established a small company with some friends from university. While you specialized in medieval and Renaissance art, your three partners specialized in Japanese art, antique jewelry, and ancient Egyptian art. Your company's diverse expertise made you wanted all around the world.

Although managing such a company and traveling extensively at 26 was demanding, you wouldn't trade it for anything. You loved your job and your colleagues, who were also your best friends. Supporting each other through thick and thin made this life worthwhile for you.

That morning, you were driving to your next job. FC Barcelona, yes, the football club wanted you to restore and polish their trophies. They were meticulous about their trophies, and despite the unnecessary level of care, they requested your services every year to maintain them. It was lucrative work with minimal effort. Even though you weren't specialized in that type of restoration, you were willing to assist your colleague and friend with the task since you had little else to do.

As you parked near the Barcelona training grounds, about to pull up the parking brake, you heard an unpleasant sound, like glass breaking, from the back of your car. You hoped it wasn't what you feared. Taking a deep breath, you checked the other side of your car, hoping it was just your imagination. But as soon as you saw the damage and a small woman approaching you with a mortified expression, you knew the worst had happened. She had hit your car. This couldn't have happened at a worse time.

Walking up to the culprit, you were angry. She was about to speak, but you cut her off. "Sorry, miss. How many fingers am I holding up?" You politely showed her two fingers.

Looking baffled, she replied, "Two?"

"Oh, so you have eyes!" you retorted sarcastically. "I guess an SUV right in front of you was too small for you to see." Your anger was palpable.

"I'm so sorry. I-I was overthinking and didn't turn the handlebar all the way to the right," she stammered apologetically. You could see she was genuinely sorry, but in that moment, you didn't care.

"They should revoke your driver's license. You're a menace," you said, crossing your arms and returning to your car. Taking out the accident report, you said, "Let's fill out the accident report so I can be done with you." She nodded sadly and helped you complete the report.

You knew you were being unfair to her. Stuff happens, but this one was the final straw for you.

As you started filling out the report, you noticed her coming back towards you. Despite her being attractive and all, you were too mad to give a damn. Once you wrapped up your part, you handed her the report to fill out while you rang up your insurance company.

After a couple of minutes of you dialing your mechanic and finishing off the paperwork, you said goodbye to the lady and headed to the Barcelona training grounds.

While you were hanging around, you checked out all the team photos with the trophy. The left side had all the guys' photos, with Messi and the 2009 team, while the right side was all about Barcelona Femeni. Your father was a die-hard Barcelona fan; back in the day, you'd go to some games with him. But when you hit high school, you kinda lost interest in football.

As you spotted last year's Ballon d'Or picture, you suddenly recognized her, which made you laugh out loud. You had just had a small car accident with none other than the Ballon d'Or winner, Aitana Bonmatì.

You thought she looked familiar, but it didn’t really click at the time. Well, at least she's better with her feet than with a steering wheel.

When Eva finally showed up at the training grounds, you rushed over to her.

"Hey Y/n, how's it going?" she greeted.

"I'm good. Some car bumped into me about ten minutes ago, but I'm all right."

"Wait what?!" Eva exclaimed, shocked. Since she found out about your condition and all, she's been super protective. "Are you sure you're okay? Do I need to go all out on someone?"

"The damage ain't that bad. And you'll never guess who I had the run-in with."

You pointed at Aitana's photo on the wall. "Aitana Bonmatì?" Eva asked, puzzled.

"Yep."

"Well, at least she's better at kicking a ball than driving a car."

"That's what I was thinking!" you said, pumped. "Now let's get down to business."

A couple of guys from the club gave you the grand tour and hooked you up with a whole room to work in. You offered to take the trophies back to your lab, but they were set on leaving them there.

As you got everything set up, just as you were about to dive in, the bearded dude was heading out. "Just a heads up, the squad might swing by to check out your work. You know, for Instagram and stuff. Don't sweat it; it won't take too long." You gave a hesitant nod, gearing up for your first trophy.

"Imagine if Aitana walks in here with all her teammates!" Eva quips jokingly as the two guys leave you alone. "I'd pay to see her face when she realizes it's you," she chuckles.

"I think it's the men's team. Otherwise, they would've said it," you comment, preparing your materials.

"How was meeting her?" Eva asks eagerly. She's a big fan of the women's side.

"I didn't even recognize her. I was kinda harsh, actually," you chuckle.

"Luck hasn't been on your side lately, with the car and all," she replies sadly.

"Yeah," you say, feeling a wave of emotions you'd rather not deal with. You shake it off and force a smile. "Let's focus on making some good money. I'd love to have jobs like this every day!"

You start working on Champions League and La Liga trophies. There's a lot, and as the hours pass, you feel even more exhausted.

After a couple of hours, the guy from earlier shows up. "So, the team's about to arrive. Is it okay if we film you?"

Eva looks at you, waiting for your response. "Only if I get some free advertising out of it."

He thumbs up. "I'll tag you in the story."

"You better!" you playfully retort, returning to polishing the 2005 men's Champions League trophy. You fake a smile and wait for the team to arrive.

As soon as you hear female voices, you glance at Eva and chuckle. She whispers a "I told you so" and gets back to work.

When they come in, you make eye contact with Aitana. Her smile turns to shock, then mortification. It takes all your willpower not to laugh. Out of all the people in Barcelona, she had to be the one to hit your car?

You quickly present your work, using fancy words you rarely use and explaining all the procedures. Aitana never comes near you, which makes you feel a bit sorry for her.

Once the cameras stop rolling, some of the players ask you both questions. As they're about to leave, Aitana walks up to you, apologizing awkwardly.

"I'm sorry again."

"Don't worry about it. Let's start fresh, okay?" You offer your hand, and she shakes it, smiling.

"I didn't know you worked with trophies," she adds quickly, not wanting the conversation to end.

Now that the anger has passed, you actually look at her. She's one of the most beautiful girls you've ever seen, and you're a sucker for nose rings.

"I'm actually an art restorer for Renaissance art. I'm here to help my friend with this job."

"That's so cool!" She beams at you. "So, are you going to work on my Ballon d'Or trophy too?"

You glance at Eva, who nods slightly. "Yeah, but probably not until next week."

She looks at you hesitantly. "Can I be there? I mean, it's not that I don't trust you, but I'm just curious, that's all."

"Are you done rambling?" You chuckle lightly at her nervousness. She's probably still embarrassed about the accident.

"Yes, I am," she replies shyly, making you chuckle. There's something about her that draws you in, as if you were meant to be near each other.

"Of course, you can join us. It might be a bit dull for you though, since you're all about adrenaline during your football games."

"I'm just really curious, that's all. I won't bother you, I promise," she reassures you, still smiling.

"I don't think you could ever be a bother," you say before you can stop yourself, turning your head away.

"Well then, as a proper apology, can I bring you coffee tomorrow?" she offers.

"You don't have to, Aitana."

"I insist. How do you take your coffee?"

—

The next morning, you waited for Eva to pick you up for Barcelona's facilities. Since your car was at the mechanic's, she'd be giving you rides for at least a week.

As soon as you arrived at the trophies, you got to work promptly.

"So, you think Aitana's actually gonna bring you coffee?" Eva smirks suggestively.

"I doubt it. She'll probably forget. And maybe she was just being polite," you reply, focusing on your task.

"Well, she was all smiles with you yesterday," Eva starts tentatively.

You turn to her, pausing your work. "What? What are you getting at?" you ask, eyebrows raised in exasperation.

"Maybe she wanted something more than your forgiveness. Like your attention, or an excuse to see you again," she smirks.

"You, Eva, have been reading too many romance novels lately," you chuckle, feeling defeated.

"Two is not too many!"

"We've only talked for fifteen minutes."

"Yet it was the first time I saw you smile in a month," she says, making you roll your eyes once again. You're certain Aitana was just being nice. But you can't deny she's cute. And kind. And nice.

"Eva, you know I can't," you say sadly.

"You deserve a shot at happiness too, you know."

"Yes, but I don't think a super hot football player is the answer."

"Well, maybe a super hot footballer isn't the solution, but I know one who promised you coffee," you turn your head towards the door. There she is, with three coffees on a tray, wearing a shy smile. You blush profusely, hoping she didn't overhear your conversation with Eva, but she seems unfazed, waiting for your acknowledgment.

You take a moment to compose yourself before removing your work gloves and standing up to greet her.

"Hi Aitana. Did you manage to park your car properly?" you tease.

"You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?" She hands you your coffee and then turns to Eva. "Well, I didn't know what kind of coffee you preferred, so I just brought you the most basic and likable."

Eva looks at her baffled; neither of you expected her to bring Eva coffee or to see her again. "Oh, thank you!" Eva responds before turning back to you, the absurdity of the situation evident in your wide eyes.

She takes a sip of her own coffee, then looks at the trophy you were just working on. "Have you already worked on ours?"

"We wanted to finish the men's trophies first, then do yours next week," you explain. Eva's phone rings, and she excuses herself to take the call, as it was a work call, leaving you and Aitana alone.

“It’s El Prado, I’ll be right back.”

You sit back down to work, and she curiously comes around the table to your side to see what you're doing. "Don't you have practice today?" you ask.

"We have a rest day," she replies. "Your colleague said El Prado called her, like the museum?"

"Yeah, I have to go touch up some paintings, maybe next month? My schedule's really busy right now."

"You do paintings too?" she asks, surprised.

"I usually only do that. I'm just helping Eva with this job. These trophies are already well taken care of; they don't really need this much attention. But I have to say, LaPorta pays really well," you joke, trying to ease the tension. She chuckles lightly. She has a cute laugh, you think.

"Well, now I'll definitely tell LaPorta!" she jokes back.

"Don't you dare!"

You joke and chat for at least another fifteen minutes. There's something about her that makes your stomach flip in ways you definitely don't want it to. She's attentive, curious, and sweet. She's confident but never boastful, which you find refreshing.

As the minutes pass, she gradually moves closer to you, coaxing you into letting her help with your work. You gently push her away, chuckling, telling her they don't pay her to restore trophies. But she doesn't budge. She grabs a pair of gloves, picks up her chair, and places it next to yours. She sits down, and you turn to her, wide-eyed at the proximity, but soon focus back on the trophy.

She tucks a loose hair lock behind your ear, asking for your attention. You turn to her, cheeks slightly flushed. "You're distracting me, Aitana."

"Maybe that is my intention," she smirks teasingly.

"Do you want me to lose my job?"

"It's not my fault you're easily distracted. I haven't done anything. I just sat next to you and put on some gloves," she raises an eyebrow.

"And that's more than enough," you utter to yourself.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing!" You reply hastily, but she smiles knowingly, as if she caught you saying something you shouldn't have.

You two stare at each other, like strangers trying to solve a puzzle on each other's faces. You can't quite figure her out. She's the best footballer in the world, yet she's so much more. Still, you feel drawn to her, as if you're meant to be there with her, and she with you.

You're probably imagining things and being delusional. You blame it on your period. The silence fills the room, becoming suffocating. It's too intense, too much.

Thankfully, Eva enters the room, and you jump back into action, focusing on the trophy again, while Aitana stares at the floor.

You look at Eva, who's already sending you a big smirk, making you roll your eyes.

Aitana stands up and walks to the door. "I really have to go now. How about tomorrow?"

"What-"

"Okay. Bye!" And she was already out.

You turn to Eva. “Did I miss something?” She asks.

“I don’t know. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

—

"So, the blood work came back," your doctor says, settling into his chair and opening your file. "You have anemia. Until your hemoglobin levels increase, we can't proceed with the therapy. I advise you to adjust your diet to include more iron and vitamin B12-rich foods. Also, consider taking some vitamin supplements."

You nod lightly, already mentally noting a trip to the drugstore. After a final visit from the doctor, you head home.

This week has been relatively relaxed compared to your previous ones in Italy. You've been working on an undemanding job with your best friend, which couldn't have gone better. Well, maybe it did. Every day this week, she brought you coffee and lingered for at least 15 minutes to chat with you. Even with her busy training schedule, she always made time to talk. You wouldn't discuss deep topics or your condition, but you appreciated how she listened and remained interested in your life.

Occasionally, she'd flash you that beautiful smile, tempting you to throw caution to the wind and kiss away all her smirks and grins.

—

That same morning, Eva was alone at the Barcelona training grounds because you were at the doctor's office. Around 9 AM, Aitana arrived, searching for you.

"Hi, Eva. Is Y/n here?" she asks.

"Y/n isn't here today. She had a doctor's appointment. Did she forget to tell you?" Eva replies.

Aitana's face falls into a kicked puppy expression. "She did. Anyway, I wanted to give her this." She hands Eva a bag. "It's game tickets. She mentioned she's never been to a Barcelona Femení game, and I wanted to change that. Can you please give them to her?"

Eva studies her, trying to gauge her intentions. "You like her, don't you?"

"What?" Aitana's taken aback, clearly not expecting those words.

"I get it. She's a wonderful person. And stubborn. Just don't hurt her; she's already going through enough," Eva warns.

Aitana nods lightly. "I hope to see you at the stadium this weekend. Bye!" With that, she leaves.

—

Two hours later, you return to work.

"Hey!" you greet Eva.

"Hey! How was the appointment?"

"I have anemia, among other things, so I have to wait for it to get better before starting treatment."

"That sucks. But on the bright side, your footballer came by."

Damn. You were so wrapped up in conversation with her, and also distracted by her presence the day before, that you forgot to tell her you wouldn't be at work the next day.

"I forgot to let her know I wouldn't be here today," you admit.

"I figured. I saw the disappointment on her face when she didn't see you," Eva says, overly dramatic.

"You're being dramatic," you lightly blush.

"Maybe, but she cares about you."

"She's a good friend. It's no wonder everyone likes her."

"She could be more than a friend. I think she's—"

"Again, Eva. You know I can't! Besides, do you really think a girl like her would go for a girl like me?" With every interaction, your feelings for Aitana have grown. You're ignoring them, but you know they're there. Acting on them wouldn't be fair to her. But there's an inexplicable pull that you can't control.

"Y/n, you have qualities not everyone has. If it's a worthiness issue, it's all in your head." Eva hands you the bag Aitana left.

"You know I can't be in a relationship right now."

"Why?"

"You know why. It wouldn't be fair to her."

"Then stop giving her heart eyes. It's annoying, especially when I'm trying to work," Eva chuckles.

"It's not you she's trying to distract," you admit, blushing lightly. "And I don't give her heart eyes." You pout.

"Denial isn't just a river in Egypt," she comments ironically. "But I get it. You've never dealt well with hot women anyway. You're just playing it cool because you're still denying your feelings."

"Stop getting inside my head! Let's get back to work."

That night, you finally open the bag. Inside is an envelope with two tickets to Saturday's game against Atletico Madrid, along with a note.

"I hope you enjoy the game! Since I know you don’t have a jersey, I thought I’d give you one of my old ones."

You pull out the jersey, from last year with the Liga F patch. You subtly smell it, convincing yourself it's not weird. Her perfume lingers, but there's also a scent that inexplicably feels like hers.

The next morning, you wake up an hour early for work. You want to finish an be earlier to surprise Aitana and apologize. Knowing she has a physio appointment ending at 10 AM, you plan to surprise her with a macha latte, just as she did for you all week.

Waiting outside the physio building feels like a terrible idea, making you regret everything. As time passes and she doesn't emerge from the building, you were about to give up. But then, after what feels like centuries, she appears. The look on her face makes it all worth it. She walks quickly to you, still wearing a cute smile.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" she asks.

"I wanted to apologize. I forgot to tell you about yesterday." You hand her the macha. "Plus, this week, it's my turn." You both sit on a bench.

"Is everything okay? Eva mentioned you had a doctor's appointment," she inquired, causing your brain to pause for a moment.

"Uhm, yeah! Just some anemia, but otherwise, I'm good," you fib.

"That must be tough. My mom also has anemia, but fortunately, it's not that serious," she says, switching to a more excited tone. "So, are you coming to the game on Saturday?"

"Of course," you reply, grinning at her excitement.

"You know, since I gave you the tickets, you have to wear my jersey, or they won't let you in," she teases.

"Too bad, I was planning to wear my Putellas jersey. She's the best player on the team. Plus, I love the number 11," you try to rile her up. Her smile fades, and she's about to stand up when you put down your coffee and wrap your arms around her waist to keep her on the bench. "I'm kidding!"

She sits back down, crossing her arms childishly. "I want my jersey back."

You scoot closer to her, attempting to uncross her arms, but she's surprisingly strong. "Oh no. It was a gift. Besides, I think I can get used to the number 14." Finally, you manage to uncross her arms, and she takes your hand, intertwining it with hers. Your heart begins to race as you stare at your hands together. Her voice brings you back to reality.

"I'll show you who's the best."

"I have no doubt." With your free hand, you tuck one of her locks of hair behind her ear. "And you, woman, are one of the most competitive people I know. It's concerning."

"If we win, we'll probably go out to celebrate. Do you want to come?" she asks shyly.

"I'm already going out. One of my friends wants to celebrate his birthday at a bar. Maybe next time?" you suggest.

"Definitely."

You check your watch. "I really have to go now; I need to get back to work. Same time tomorrow?"

"Bringing you coffee is my thing. Are you stealing my ideas, Y/Ln?" she hints.

"Well then, I won't have a reason to see you," you imply, stepping into unknown territory, but it feels right.

"Well, that's just your loss. Coffee's my thing. You'll just have to find another way to see me then."

"Is that a challenge? Because I can find some other excuses to see you before the match," you grin confidently.

"Like?" she asks, smiling back.

"Well, I was thinking of working on your Ballon d'Or tomorrow evening. You've been bugging me for a week, asking for my help. I'll let you work on your Ballon d'Or, if you still want to, of course."

"Oh, so you want to invite me over to do your job?" she smirks.

"Definitely. This was all planned. You didn't see that coming, did you?"

"You just broke my heart. And for a moment I thought what we had was genuine," she says dramatically, making you poke her side.

"I really have to go now. So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Definitely."

You walk to your car with a smile plastered on your face, feeling a tingling sensation in your hand from when she held it. You feel and sound like a horny teenager. Never in your life has a person made you feel this way, and that scares you.

—

The next morning, you arrived at work with a newfound excitement, which didn't escape Eva's notice.

"Why are you so happy?" she asked.

"Just the usual," you shrugged.

"Does it have something to do with your footballer?"

"She does have a name, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I've seen her more than my parents this past week. It's concerning. By the way, where is she?"

"She'll be here in the evening when we work on the Ballon d'Ors."

"Then I'll be out of your way."

"You don't have to. Nothing will happen between us, don't worry."

"Yeah, no. I've suffered enough this week. All the giggles, all the weird flirting. I'm done. Plus, you're making me feel extremely lonely."

—

Fast forward to the afternoon, you were waiting for Aitana while finishing touching up all the material. Even though the supplement for anemia gave you more energy, you had been working for six hours straight and couldn't wait to finish.

What was left was Aitana's Ballon d'Or. You hated working with gold, so you were glad this was the last thing for Barcelona. You would probably miss being here, but most importantly, you'd miss a person more.

As soon as she came in, you noticed she was still dressed in Barcelona sweats.

"Hey! Did you just finish training?" you asked.

"Yeah."

"How was it?"

"Tiring. I didn't know you wore glasses." She put your glasses on herself.

"You are definitely blind. I remember you asking me if I was blind when we first met. I guess coming from you, it's even funnier," she teased, earning a poke to the side.

You rolled your eyes. "I had contacts on. What's your excuse?"

She showed you her tongue. "Do I look like an art restorer now?" she fake bragged.

"You are way too fit for anything to do with art," you chuckled, gently removing your glasses from her face.

"Hey! I do, in fact, love everything to do with art. I'm here; that should mean something."

"Being friends with an art restorer doesn't change the fact that you're for sports, while I'm for the visual arts."

"Maybe that's why we get along."

"Maybe." You handed her a pair of gloves, which she excitedly put on. "You're getting very excited for this. Working with gold is very boring."

She shrugged. "I'm working with Spain's best art restorer; it's a privilege," she teased.

"I'm far from being the best," you denied shyly.

"I looked you up, you know. Youngest woman to own an art restoring company, you travel the world because everyone wants you. What more can you do?" she insisted confidently.

"You're the best player in the world. Last year, you won everything. What more can you do?" you flipped the conversation.

"I'm far from being the best. I still have to improve," she repeated your words.

"To me, you are the best, if that means something," you admitted, making her turn to you with a big smile on her face.

"Well, I thought Alexia was your favorite player; you claimed that you love the number 11," she raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"Well, I told you that I could get used to a 14 on my back. Plus, she didn't bring me coffee for an entire week just to see me. Lame, I might add," you teased her, making her blush.

"Shut up! You loved it," she said shyly, hiding her face away from you.

"Yeah, I really did... Now let's get started."

For the next half-hour, you taught Aitana a part of your work, filling your heart with joy at her curiosity. Whenever you guided her hands, Aitana would send you a look that you couldn't quite explain. It was intense and riveting, making you internally combust.

She was sitting so close to you; you could smell her perfume and shampoo. Your eyes focused on her, and she lightly stuck out her tongue, which you found extremely cute and distracting. As you gently took her hands, you could feel her calluses even with gloves on, you showed her a movement she had to do.

"Thank you for letting me help you," she said shyly, and you gently squeezed her hands.

"No problem. Plus, it's your Ballon d'Or," you shared a quick, soft look. "Actually, you're doing me a favor. Working with gold is my least favorite thing to do. You made it a little more tolerable."

"I'm glad to hear that," she chuckled. "I hope I didn't distract you too much from your work this week," she confessed insecurely. Insecurity didn't suit her well.

"Did you distract me? Yes," her face fell a little. “Do I care? No. We wouldn't be here now," you reassured her, and she lightly nodded in response. "So, on Saturday, I'll have to find ways to distract you from the game, so then we'll be even," you bumped her shoulder playfully.

"I never get distracted," she said confidently. You were glad to see her back to her confident self.

"Is that a challenge?" you raised your eyebrows.

"No challenge. It's a fact."

"Are we back to being all confident now?" you smirked playfully. "Well, now I'll definitely make it my main goal for Saturday to be able to distract you."

"And how do you plan to do that?" she turned to you defiantly.

"My master plan will be divided into plan A, which I still have to devise, and plan B."

"What's plan B?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"I kinda do?"

"Too bad," you chuckled playfully.

It was 6 PM when you decided to go home. You had stayed with Aitana for more than three hours, but strangely enough, it felt like thirty minutes. You had discovered a new side of her that you couldn't get enough of.

She was different in real life from when she was on the pitch—still driven and determined, but also funny, kind, and gentle. She cared about so many things and was so busy, yet she had time to be with you for more than three hours.

She loved books and days spent at the beach. Her passion for football encompassed her whole life, and you admired how passionate she was about her work.

She reminded you of yourself and your love for art. When you asked her about her favorite books, you were surprised when she replied with nerdy titles. Looks could be deceiving; Aitana Bonmatí was a bit of a nerd, and you loved it.

She walked you back to your car with your bag on her shoulder, insisting that it was too heavy. As you reached your car door, you quickly turned to her. "So I'll see you on Saturday?"

"Definitely."

"Don't leave without saying goodbye, okay?" you couldn't help but smile.

"Yes, boss," this time, you received a poke on the ribs. "Ow!"

"Thank you for today. I really had fun. I thought working with gold was going to be more boring."

"It wasn't, thanks to you," you wanted to hug her. No, you felt the necessity to do so. Unceremoniously, you brought her into a hug, wrapping your arms around her neck and drawing her closer. After the initial shock, she wrapped her arms around your waist and held you tighter. The hug lasted longer than necessary, but neither of you wanted to let go.

There was a pull that made you not want to leave her embrace. It was comforting, and even if you didn't realize it at the time, you really needed it. After some time, you broke off the hug, said your final goodbye, and left for home.

—

Upon arriving home, you noticed a light emanating from the living room. Initially startled, you thought it might be an intruder. However, upon entering, you found your annoying brother standing there with his arms crossed.

"Jesus Christ! I thought you were a burglar! Idiot!" you exclaimed, smacking his arms in frustration.

"Hi to you too, sis," he responded with a smirk.

"Why didn't you call me?" you asked, placing your bag on the floor before embracing him.

"I needed to talk to you, and I knew you'd find an excuse not to see me," he explained.

"You live in Manchester!"

"I'm back. Got transferred back to Barcelona."

"For good?" you inquired eagerly. Ciro, your brother, was one of the best sports physiotherapists globally, having worked with Man City for almost two years.

"Yeah, got a call from Barcelona. You know I can't say no to that. Plus, I really wanted to be home," he replied.

He towered over you, twenty centimeters taller, with medium-length wavy hair that made heads turn. You both represented the opposite ends of two worlds—you loved art, he loved sports.

"I'm glad you're back," you said warmly, stepping back from the hug.

"Now, why did I have to hear from Mom that you were sick?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

"Ciro, I wanted to tell you, but you were busy with work. I really didn't want to worry you."

"You should've told me," he said sadly. "I would've been there. Could've come sooner."

"And do what? I'll start my treatment next week. There's not much you can do."

"I can be there for you. We made a deal to always stick together. You're my older sister, you've always been there for me. The least I could do is to be there for you," he insisted. You sighed sadly, realizing he was right. You should've told him. Perhaps you wanted to protect him, or maybe you feared that acknowledging your illness would make it too real.

"Did you come home because of me?" you asked tentatively, hoping for a different answer.

"As much as Man City pays, Barcelona is my home. And I really missed my sister."

"You're such a suck-up! What do you need?" you teased.

"Well, now that you ask... I might need a place to stay."

Rolling your eyes, you replied, "You can take the guest room."

After settling his stuff in the guest room, you both decided on pizza for dinner. He insisted you make the call, but you refused, playfully tossing his phone back to him. As soon as he returned, you sat on the couch to catch up on each other's lives. It had been months since you'd seen each other, and despite your reluctance to admit it, you missed him.

"Are you also working with Barca Femeni, or only the men's side?" you asked.

"I still don't know. Definitely covering all the home games and the key players if they're injured. Unsure about the away games."

"I have tickets to Saturday's game for the women's side if you want to come," you offered.

"I'll probably have to cover that game, being the first one," he replied with a suggestive smirk. "Why do you have tickets for a football match? Weren't you against 'the sports'?" he teased, using air quotes.

Blushing lightly, you retorted, "I never said I was 'against the sports.' I just prefer books to football games."

"Then why the sudden interest in watching a football match?" His face lit up. "Is it for a girl?" he asked excitedly.

"No girl!" you insisted, though thoughts of Aitana flickered in your mind. "Just felt like it."

"Then why are you smiling?" he persisted, tossing a pillow your way.

"No particular reason," you lied.

"Okay. You'll tell me when you're ready," he said with a knowing smile.

—

Fast forward to Saturday, and Ciro settled into his new job quickly. He primarily worked with the men’s side, working on Gavi and Balde, the most serious injuries at the moment.

On Saturday, he was to finally meet the women’s side in preparation for the game. Patri was the first to arrive, followed by Pina and Bruna. Aitana was the last, there for additional ankle support.

Upon seeing Ciro, Aitana gave him a strange look, as if he reminded her of someone.

"Hello?" Ciro greeted, puzzled by her expression.

Quickly snapping out of it, Aitana apologized, "Oh, hi, sorry! You kinda looked like someone familiar. I apologize if I gave you a weird look." Extending her hand, she introduced herself, "I’m Aitana."

"Hi. I’m Ciro. I’m the new physio. What can I do for you?" he responded.

During their time together, Ciro realized that Aitana was very chatty about nerdy things like books and coffee places—things that reminded him of you and how well you two would get along.

"You said you just came back from Man City, right?" Aitana asked.

"Yes, I did," Ciro replied.

"Did you know that the first atom was split there?" she commented, making Ciro chuckle. She would really get along with you.

"I think you’d be friends with my sister. She said the same thing when I left to go there," Ciro remarked.

"I guess it’s common knowledge," Aitana stated confidently.

"No, it’s not. But I’ll reply the same way I replied to my sister: who cares about atoms, when Manchester is home to the annual World Pie Eating Championship," Ciro chuckled.

"You got a girlfriend there?" Aitana asked unexpectedly.

Blinking at the question, Ciro replied with a crooked smirk, "Why, are you interested?" It was playful banter, no ulterior motives.

Raising her hands defensively, Aitana replied, "Nope, you’re not really my type."

"Then I should really introduce you to my sister," Ciro teased.

"Nah, I’m already interested in someone else. I’m sorry," Aitana smiled brightly.

"Too bad," Ciro finished up her ankle. "You’re all set. I’m sorry if this conversation was unprofessional. Please don’t report it to the club," he added with a tense smile.

"Don’t worry. We were just talking. But I do have to say, the more I see you, the more you look like a person I know," Aitana observed.

"Well, I hope they are great. I don’t want to leave a bad impression," Ciro replied.

"She’s wonderful," Aitana said before heading to the pitch.

—

Meanwhile, you were getting ready with Eva to go to the Estadi Johan Cruyff.

"So your brother’s back in town for good?" Eva asked.

"Yeah, he’s currently crashing at my apartment until he gets a flat of his own. Feels like we’re back to being teenagers living together for Uni," you replied, putting on Aitana’s shirt and giving it a subtle sniff.

"How’s that going?" Eva raised her eyebrows.

"So far, so good. She’s my friend," you reassured her.

"So, you told her about your condition, right?" Eva asked sternly.

You fell silent. "I’ve been meaning to! I just haven’t found the time yet."

"You need to tell her," Eva urged.

"I know. Let me just ignore it for a little longer," you replied hesitantly.

"She won’t go away, you know that?" Eva reassured you.

"I don’t care about that. We’ve only met three weeks ago. I don’t have some sick attachment issues, okay? I... I just really care about her," you admitted.

"I know you do. Or else we wouldn’t be going to a football game just to see her," Eva said with a smile.

—

At the Estadi Johan Cruyff, Aitana had secured great seating spots for you. As they warmed up, you couldn’t take your eyes off her. When she spotted you in the crowd, her face lit up with a huge smile, and she excitedly waved at you.

The game started quickly, with Aitana making a significant impact on the field. Her passing was precise, and she dribbled past opponents effortlessly.

In the first 15 minutes, she had already made an assist and nearly scored a goal. At the thirtieth minute, she scored a remarkable goal from outside the box, prompting you to cheer loudly.

However, the next action worried you. A harsh tackle left Aitana clutching her ankle in pain. Thankfully, your brother quickly tended to her, and she was able to continue playing, albeit with some discomfort. At halftime, Ciro was still with Aitana, leaving you concerned. But what concerned you more was that she didn’t return for the second half, replaced by another player.You quickly sent a text to Ciro, hoping he’d see it.

**You:** Where are you?

**Ciro:** I’m at work, idiot. You saw me.

**You:** I know, but right now? Is everything okay with Aitana?

**Ciro:** Yes, why? Why are you so concerned?

**You:** She’s my friend. Can I come and see her?

Aitana was perched on the physio bed, visibly annoyed that they’d taken her off at half-time.

“Hey, Aitana,” Ciro turned to her, puzzled by her behavior, away from his phone. “How do you know my sister?”

She looked at him, puzzled. “Who’s your sister?”

“Y/n?” He stated, as if it were obvious.

“Like Y/n Y/ln? You’re his brother?”

“Yeah!”

“I didn’t know that! She never mentioned she had a brother. That’s why you looked like her!”

“She wants to come and see you. I can’t let her in, but you can if you want.”

Aitana blushed lightly, a fact Ciro noted but didn’t comment on. Internally, she thanked him for it.

“Yeah, of course she can come if she likes.”

He smirked knowingly, making her blush again. “I’ll go get her. Then we’ll have a small talk on how you have the hots for my sister,” he teased, leaving the room.

As soon as you saw Ciro in the hallway, you understood immediately that he had something in mind.

“Since when do you know Aitana Bonmatì?”

“Since I worked on her Ballon d’Or. We’ve become friends.”

“Only that?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Ciro. Only that.”

“Doesn’t seem like it. You are way too worried.”

“Shut up,” you smacked his stomach hard, making him whine. “And not a word about this around her, understood?”

“Can I say one thing?”

“Then you’ll shush?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“She’s really nice and chatty. I get why you like her. Plus, she’s really hot, not to mention your type?”

“You really want me to get violent on you?” You hit him again.

“Ow!”

“You deserved it.”

“You didn’t deny it though…” You hit him again, this time harder. “This one was my fault. I take it back.”

You both reached the door to the physio room. “Now get back to work, Ciro.”

“So bossy! I hope Aitana likes this side of you!” He teased, and you replied with a glare that clearly said, "I’m going to hit you." Your patience was really getting tested. “Bye!” He quickly left to get back on the pitch, while you opened the door.

—

She was sitting still on the physio bed, with some ice on her ankle, still dressed for the match, and lightly pouting.

“Hey,” as soon as she turned to you, she brightened up.

“Hey!” You approached her. “How’s your ankle?”

You took her in, noticing she looked exhausted even though she only played for 45 minutes. Even though you saw her play, you were glad they let her rest.

“It’s good. They took me off for ‘precautionary measures,’” she rolled her eyes.

“I’m glad you’re healthy,” you replied, turning around to show her you were wearing her jersey.

She grabbed both sides of the jersey and dragged you in between her legs. “You have it on!” she said excitedly.

“Of course! I only wear the best! Great game, by the way,” you lightly caressed her thigh, next to her knee, to give her some reassurance. “You scored a banger!”

“Thank you. I’d rather have played more, though,” she pouted, making you smile at her cuteness. “By the way, what was your secret plan to make me distracted?”

You chuckled lightly, completely forgetting. “Plan A was to distract you just by my presence,” you bragged jokingly, making her giggle and earning you a poke in the ribs.

“That’s not true. You just didn’t think of anything to distract me with,” she said confidently.

“Maybe.”

“What was plan B, then?”

“Becoming a pitch invader or just flashing you,” you said dramatically.

“I would’ve definitely loved to see that,” she gave you a playful smirk, lightly gripping your waist a little harder.

You chuckled, smacking the back of her head. Then, you looked at her properly, changing the mood of the conversation. Her eyes looked so tired. “You look exhausted. You still have the elastic band in your hair. Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

“I’m just too lazy to take it off,” she confessed bluntly.

You rolled your eyes and then gently took it off her. “There you go. Do you want me to take out your ponytail too?” You looked into her eyes once again.

“You don’t have to. I can do it on my own,” she said shyly.

“I know you can, but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to be near you.”

Her face softened, making you melt like chocolate under the sun. She nodded slowly, and you sprang into action. Taking a step closer, you gently took off the elastic band and looped it around your wrist. You scratched her scalp a little, making her release a relaxed sigh. Chuckling lightly, you took a step back to give her some space. As you were about to take another step, she quickly grabbed you, bringing you even closer to her. Swallowing some of the tension, you realized she was in control now and wanted you closer. You quickly looked at her lips, then back to her powerful gaze.

“You don’t have to find an excuse to be closer to me. I always want you near me all the time,” you tucked your head down to hide your blush, not wanting to show her how much those words had affected you. She gently grabbed your chin and raised it to her level.

“Don’t hide from me. I love it when you blush,” she teased.

“Stop doing that,” your face flushed again.

“Doing what?”

“Being all confident and so close to me. It’s distracting.”

She smirked in response. “Maybe that’s the effect I want you to feel. I’ll let you go if you feel uncomfortable,” she reassured you.

You replied by simply placing your hands on the sides of her face, playing lightly with her baby hair.

“We’ve been skirting around it for two weeks now. Don’t you feel the same pull towards me that I have with you? It’s consuming, and it feels so good,” she admitted.

It was intense, obliterating in a sense, yet you couldn’t resist it. You hated not feeling in control. Acting upon these feelings wouldn’t be fair to her.

“I feel it too,” you removed your hands from her and took a step back, seeing her expression change. You could feel her disappointment. “So much. But I can’t,” you sighed defeatedly. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Why?” she asked vulnerably. “Do you have a secret boyfriend or something?”

You took a deep breath and decided to tell her. She deserved to know. You couldn’t continue like this.

“Aitana, I have ca—”

The door opened, and the entire team barged in. You subconsciously took another step back and let the team swarm Aitana. They were checking up on her, but her eyes never left yours.

“Hey, you’re the art restorer!” Patri pointed out.

You quickly changed your demeanor to something more cheerful. “Yes, I just came in to say hi to Aitana. I was just about to leave. I’ll see you.”

You quickly left to reunite with Eva and then headed home.

—

Later that night, you were going to a club to celebrate your colleague Pablo’s birthday, but for you, it was also the last party before you had to start your treatment.

The whole thing with Aitana earlier that day had left a bitter taste in your mouth. You felt like an asshole and couldn’t shake the feeling that things could have gone better between the two of you.

Realising that you never asked for her phone number and that you had finished your work for the club, you concluded that you probably wouldn’t see her again.

So when you left for the beach bar with your friends, you decided to indulge in some vodka. Eva didn’t question it. She knew that sometimes, when you were out with your friends, you stopped being the responsible one and drank more than usual to have some fun. Pablo and Eva always made fun of you because you never had filters and would always create chaos, but you never went overboard.

You were in the middle of the night, two drinks in, and you started telling your friends that you loved them. They only chuckled in response. You alternated between depressing states and euphoric ones, making Eva, who was also intoxicated, extremely confused.

The whole night shifted again when you saw a group of girls entering the bar, including the one girl you thought you’d never see again. As soon as she saw you, she tried to approach you. She wanted to talk about the conversation you had earlier that day, but you tried to drunkenly escape the conversation. It did not work.

A few moments later, you were met with her standing in front of you while you were sitting down at the bar stools. She saw that you were drunk, and her serious appearance faded for a moment.

“Can we—Are you drunk?” she asked.

“Yep,” you confessed without even trying to hide it. “What are you doing here?”

“We are out celebrating the win. What are you doing here?”

“The birthday party,” you slurred. She had her nose ring on. You loved it when she wore it. “You have your nose ring on. I really like it,” you tried to raise your hand to touch it, but she quickly stopped you.

“How much did you drink?” she asked, concerned.

“Not that much. Why are you so serious? I don’t like it when your face scrunches up.”

She chuckled at your drunkenness. “You are so drunk. I’ll take you home.”

“Nooo. You just got here, plus my friends are about to leave,” you protested.

“It’s no biggie. You need to get home to sleep it off.”

“I think I should. On Monday, I have my first treatment. I shouldn’t feel hungover,” you blurted out.

“You have your first what?”

“Can I have a kiss?”

“What?”

“A kiss. You know, the ones you give to a person with the lips,” you explained, while she slowly took your hand and led you out of the bar.

“I know what a kiss is. I don’t think I should give you a kiss, given your current state. And the fact that a few hours ago you rejected me.” You were out now.

“Wait. Why are we outside?”

“I’m taking you home.” She states.

“You tricked me. You are one little sneaky son of a bitch.” You pout, making her laugh.

“You drunk, is the highlight of my day.”

“That’s so sad.” You cover your mouth with your hand childishly. “I shouldn’t have said that.” She giggles in response. “I still want a kiss from you. And I want to you to know that I didn’t in fact reject you. I just told you that I can’t.” You specify.

She leads you to her car without you realizing it. “I hope you are not one of those people who takes me to their car and then try to kill me.” She opens the car door and helps you inside.

She buckles your seatbelt, and due to the closeness, you blurt out. “You are very beautiful. The most perfect face.”

She chuckles, lightly shaking her head. “You are very beautiful too.” She gives you a quick kiss on the temple and round the car to get to the driving seat.

“Was it that difficult to give me a kiss?” You ask her rhetorically, making her roll her eyes at you.

“Can you tell me your address?” She sat down on the driver’s seat and gently turned your head towards her to get some attention.

“I don’t wanna go home. My brother is there.” You whine. “Let’s go to the beach.” You say excitedly.

“Y/n you are drunk. If you don’t tell me your address I’ll bring you to my home.” Aitana tells you seriously.

“Is that an invite?” You smirk suggestively.

“Get your head out of the gutter, Y/n.”

“Calm down. I was just joking!” You grinned.

“I should probably text Eva.” You sober up and sent her, very slowly, a text.

**You** I’m going hmoe with hot footballer. See you on mnoday. I’m drukn but I love you.

The drive pretty much sobered you up. You were still blabbering nonsense to Aitana, talking to her about the most random things. When you arrived, you quickly noticed that you weren’t in your apartment complex.

“I knew it. You brought me here to kill me,” you said, fed up.

“We are at my home.”

You opened the car door and got out before she could help you. “This whole building is your house?!” you said, shocked, while she quickly walked up to you.

“No, you idiot. I have an apartment,” she giggled lightly.

“You are enjoying this, aren’t you? Getting to see me like this.”

“I am definitely enjoying this. Too bad I can’t make any videos of you like this,” she said, placing a hand behind your back to stabilize you until you got to her apartment.

You curiously wandered around her living room, taking in her home. It was just like her. Every decoration, every piece of furniture reflected her in some way, only something was missing.

“You should get some artwork to fill up the walls. Your house is beautiful, Aitana.”

“Thank you. I guess you can definitely help with that, don’t you think?”

“Not in this condition.” You sat on the couch, while you waited for her to join you.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Not with you like this, tomorrow morning?” she offered, but you weren’t on board with that.

So, with a swift movement, you sat on her lap, taking Aitana by surprise. You placed her hands on your waist and blurted out. “I’ll talk then. I really like you, but I can’t be with you right now. The connection you feel between us is so real and intense that it scares me. You have been one of my biggest blessings in disguise since you came into my life.”

“I’d rather talk about this when you’ll remember it, but I really like you, and I would like to know why we can’t be together.”

You were sober enough to stop yourself from telling her the truth. “I’ll tell you tomorrow morning, I promise.”

You gently rubbed her shoulders, feeling all her muscles, making you giggle.

“What?” she asked, tickling you for a second or two. She was back to being her unserious self, and her crinkle disappeared. Probably it was because she knew that you were safe now.

“You are so muscular.” You squeezed her biceps. “If we were in a zombie apocalypse, would you protect me from all the zombies? You go fend off our enemies while I do the housewife and part-time art restorer. Maybe zombies make art, who knows?”

“Okay, I will,” she indulged you.

“You promise?” You asked her seriously.

“Yes.”

“Pinky promise?” You raised your pinky, and she laced it with hers. “Now it’s sealed.”

“Let’s go to bed,” she spurred you to stand up and walked you to her bedroom. She quickly gave you some spare clothes to change, leaving the room for you to have some privacy. She gave you some Barcelona shorts and one of her old t-shirts.

Somehow, every item had her typical perfume, and that special something that was characteristically hers. You were now a little more sobered up, which made you less chatty and with some inhibitions.

As you opened the door of her bedroom to see where she was, you saw that she was getting the couch ready to sleep.

“Aitana, come to bed. I can take the couch. You already did more than enough for me today.”

“It’s no biggie,” she shrugged.

“No, it’s a big biggie.” You walked up to her and literally dragged her into her own bedroom. “You take the bed.”

“Then we’ll both take it.”

“We can do that.” You waited for her to take her usual side, then you climbed on the other side. She turned off the light, and you moved to your side to face her. “Thank you for tonight. You didn’t have to, but you still took care of me. You are truly one of the most amazing people I know.”

She kissed your forehead. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

She laid on her back, making you subconsciously go near her as much as possible, until you looped your arm around her waist and cuddled into her. In response, she gave you another kiss on the temple and nuzzled into you.

—

The next morning, you woke up with a headache. An arm was keeping you down, and as you opened your eyes, confusion swept over you.

Aitana was still softly sleeping on your side. Memories of last night flooded back into your mind. You guessed that she felt you stir awake because not even a minute after you had woken up, she woke up too.

“Good morning,” she said gently, moving away from you and sitting up, quickly stretching herself. You basically mimicked her movements on the other side of the bed and followed her to the living room.

“Coffee?” she offered.

“Definitely,” you replied, sitting down at her kitchen table. “Can I have a glass of water? My head is killing me.” She quickly retrieved it for you and got back to preparing the coffee. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable last night.”

“You didn’t. I’ve thought about what you told me yesterday: that you can’t be with me because it wouldn’t be fair to me. I think… no, I’m certain, that we can work it out together,” she said hopefully. She was still standing when you chuckled sadly.

“Aitana, you don’t know how much I’d want that. But being with me right now isn’t worth it, and I won’t ask you to wait for me because that wouldn’t be fair to you,” you admitted sadly.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Whatever it is, we can—”

“Aitana, I have cancer.”

Now she sat down. “You told me you had anemia,” she said defensively, not really believing you.

“I do also have anemia. That’s why I’ll start chemo so late from the diagnosis,” you released a sigh.

“Is—is it curable?” she almost whispered, almost not knowing how to take the news.

“Thankfully, I found out early about the tumor. The doctors said a 70% success rate.”

“Where is it?”

“Thyroid cancer. It’s a little bump next to my vocal cords.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” she pleaded, almost offended.

“Because...I didn’t want you to see me in a different way,” you confessed as your voice cracked vulnerably.

“I could never see you in a bad light. You are a fighter, Y/n, remember it.”

“Do you understand why I can’t be with you?”

“Yes, and I call it bullshit,” she remarked determinedly.

“What—”

“You know, statistics say that only 30% of relationships last the first year. You literally have more hope to live than us being together.”

“And so?”

“And so, why are you denying us to yourself?”

“Maybe because in the next month, all my hair will fall off, I’ll be as weak as I’ll ever be, and I won’t be able to work anymore?” you said sarcastically. “Do you really want a girlfriend like that?”

“I want you, Y/n. We’ll just have to go through the bad times first before the good parts.”

“You know, Aitana Bonmatì, you are one stubborn woman. You never stop until you get what you want, huh?”

She nodded confidently.

“Can’t you see I’m trying to give you an out? For God’s sake, I have cancer! I might die, and I don’t want you to ruin your life to take care of me. I can’t be that selfish. I care about you way too much!” you replied exasperated, still with your head pounding.

She rounded the table and knelt down next to your legs, taking your hands. “It’s not a decision you can make for me. If you won’t let me be there for you as your girlfriend, then I’ll be there for you as a friend. For the record, I care about you too. And even if you already have Eva and Ciro, I won’t let you go through this alone.”

“We could never be friends, you know that?” you gently caressed her cheek, and she leaned into the touch.

“I know. But you are in control, okay? Let me just be there for you, please,” she practically begged you in the last part. You made her stand up while you thought for a moment.

“You won’t surrender, will you?” Your face adorned with a sad smile, while she shook her head. “I’m just a stranger, Aitana.”

“You are way more than that, and you know it,” she paused for a second. “You would do the same for me.” You nodded. You’d probably do worse if you found out that she had cancer.

"Let's take things slow, okay?" you concede, rising from your seat and placing your coffee cup on the table. "I should probably go home. Tomorrow I start chemotherapy, and I should probably rest," you say with a tinge of sadness. Making your way to Aitana's room, you change back into your clothes. After about five minutes, there's a knock on the door.

She slowly opens it. "Do you need me to drive you home? It's no biggie," she offers.

You nod slowly. "Can I come with you for your chemo?" she asks, her voice tentative, not wanting to overstep.

"I don't want you to see me like that," you explain, seeing her disappointment. "But maybe you could come and pick me up afterwards? We can go to lunch somewhere," you suggest.

"I'd love that," she replies with a small smile. "By the way! I think it's time for you to give me your phone number! I still can't believe we haven't exchanged numbers," she chuckles, and you hand her your phone.

She bursts into a giggle, sending you a knowing smirk. "I'm glad to hear that Eva is happy you went home with a hot ass footballer. The next part of the text, it's better that I don't say," she teases, causing you to blush profusely.

"I'm sorry," you mutter, covering your face with your hands.

"Oh no. I love it," she counters, smirking confidently as she tosses your phone back to you. As you unlock it to read Eva's texts, a smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

**Eva** Fucking finally!

Now go and sex up that hot ass footballer!

"Damn it!" you exclaim, exasperated, prompting a chuckle from Aitana.

The drive back home is mostly silent. As she stops right next to your door, you're unsure how to bid her goodbye. It's been a heavy morning for both of you, and you need time to process everything. You had intended to push her away, give her an out. But she refused to give up, surprising you.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right? You'll text me?" she asks, her voice tinged with insecurity.

You reassure her with a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, Tani. Thank you for everything." With that, you exit the car and wave one last time before entering your home.

Sitting on the couch with a sad expression, you stare at the turned-off TV. You feel awful, like you've made Aitana feel awful. Groaning loudly, you bury your face in your pillow.

Ciro emerges from the guest room, eyeing you. "Rough night?" he asks.

"I told her," you confess.

He sits next to you and pulls you into a hug. "Did it go badly?"

"No, I guess. Is it bad if I wish she had just told me to get out of her life?"

"No," he replies, rubbing your back soothingly. "But I'm glad she'll stick around."

—

Meanwhile, Aitana returns home and collapses on the couch, her face turned toward the wall. She lets out a light but painful sob.

"Damn it."

In the afternoon of the same day she found out of your cancer, she had a recovery session at Barcelona. For the first time ever, she just wanted to stay home.

Despite being off during all her training, her teammates didn’t ask what was going on, as she's not one to let her emotions affect her play. But that day, she was anything but focused. Ciro noticed and approaches her during a water break.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi, Ciro," she greets him, trying to hide her emotions.

"You good?"

"I'm good. Just tired."

"You know you can talk to me, right?" Aitana nods and rejoins her teammates.

"When did you become friends with the physio? Are you over the Art Restorer?" Keira asks.

"Her name is Y/n, and that's her brother," Aitana replied emotionless.

"The hot gene really does run in their family," Patri remarks, earning a smack from Keira.

—

Your first chemo treatment isn't as bad as you feared. Your energy isn't drained at all; in fact, you're super alert, probably because of the steroids.

Aitana arrives half an hour early and joins you in the hospital treatment room.

You're nearly finished; you just have to complete the saline shot.

"Hey, how are you?" Aitana enters the room and gives you a quick hug before sitting beside you. You'd be lying if you said you weren't happy to see her. Her smile melts away your worries in an instant. She's here, and that's enough to lift your spirits.

"I'm nearly done. How's training?" you ask.

"It's good. We worked on free kicks and rondos, so some light stuff. I brought you some snacks," she says, handing you dried fruits and nuts. "I read that the first chemo might make you feel drowsy, and since you also have anemia, I brought you some food with iron."

You smile softly, thanking her with a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Tani." Opening the bag, you search for some almonds. "I hate raisins," you remark.

"Just give them to me," she offers, and you quickly pass all the raisins to her as you eat the rest. "I don't know how you like raisins," you say, giving her a disgusted look.

"They're just fruit," she chuckles.

"How was the treatment? Do you feel sick?" she asks, worry evident in her voice.

"For now, no, probably because of the steroids. I should bring something to do next time," you say, your gaze softening. "About yesterday, we're good, right? I felt like we left each other on a bitter note.”

"It's okay. It was a pretty intense day. Let's just move forward, okay? So, I'm thinking... Let's go get some food, then we'll start our DreamWorks/Disney marathon. What do you say?"

For the past two weeks, the two of you had been discussing doing a movie marathon, and since you both liked kids' movies, you settled on that. However, there was one point of contention: she argued that Disney movies were better, while you favored DreamWorks. So the two of you had started arguing about which was best, and the winner was yet to be decided.

"I'm feeling great! We don't have to barricade ourselves in one of our homes. We can go to the beach and maybe take a walk," you offer, not wanting to confine her to spending the entire day indoors with you, knowing she's a very active person.

"Oh no! We have to finally settle this debate! It's been going on for too long now! Plus, you're going to need all the rest you can get, and I don't mind keeping you company," she insists.

"Are you sure?" You check once again.

"Yes, I'm sure," she reassures you.

—

Her idea proves to be right because as soon as you get home, you feel the steroids wearing off, with a sudden tiredness enveloping your body. As you drive to your home to start the movie marathon, Aitana notices almost immediately, quickly taking your hand and gently squeezing it, not letting go until you arrive.

"Your home is so full of books! I love it," she says excitedly as she steps inside your house.

"I love reading, and I have a college degree and currently doing my second specialization. I guess I have been the culprit of the death of some trees," you joke.

You fetch your grandma's blankets that she knitted for you, then return to the living room.

Aitana is already sitting on the couch with her arms open, waiting for you. Despite wanting to be held by her, you fear she might feel uncomfortable, so you sit on the opposite side.

She looks at you quizzically and then drags you to lay on top of her. You release a content sigh and proceed to hug her sides, fully taking in her body against yours. "Didn't you get the memo? From now on, I'll be your designated cuddle buddy," she giggles.

"Oh my god! How stupid! I completely forgot!" you joke.

She holds you tighter as you search for a movie to watch together, settling on "The Little Mermaid." You start to drift off, only remembering a faded kiss on the temple and a whispered, "You rest. I'll be here when you wake up, mi sirenita."

Approximately an hour later, Ciro returns home after spending the day with the men's team. He's really worried about you and how the treatment went, but he doesn't expect what he sees. You're lightly sleeping on top of Aitana, while she watches a movie on TV.

"Hey," he whispers.

Aitana's head shoots up to look at him. "Hey. She just fell asleep; the drugs wore off, and she got tired."

He smiles softly at the sight of his sister with someone who cares enough to be with her, even while she's sleeping. "How are you feeling?" he asks her.

"Oh, I'm good. She let me come inside while she finished up her treatment, and we had lunch at that place she always talks about."

"I'm glad she lets you be with her. She's stubborn, but don't give up. She'll come around," he reassures her.

She looks at you. "I really hope so," then turns back to Ciro. "Oh, you should text Eva! Y/n told me that she would text her, but I guess she forgot; she might be worried." Hearing all of this chatter, you stir awake, still drowsy.

"Tani, where is all this sound coming from?" you asked her groggily, still keeping your eyes closed.

"Ciro is here," she informed you.

"Hi Ciro," you lightly waved at him, then cuddled up against Aitana once again.

"Hey, how was chemo?"

"Tiring," you replied.

"I can see," he chuckled.

You raised your arm to show him the middle finger. "Okay! I'll wake you up later; you have to call mom."

You grunted at the thought. "Okay, okay. But now let me sleep."

"Do you want to go to bed?" Aitana asked you.

"You are too comfortable!" you replied.

"Why don't we go to bed? We'll be even more comfortable," she giggled.

"Okay," you slowly removed yourself from her and walked with her to your bedroom.

As soon as Aitana laid down on the bed, you resumed the same position as before. You indeed were more comfortable.

"You are the best cuddle buddy, Tani. Thank you." You gave her a kiss on the corner of her lips and fell back into a deep slumber.

—

Approximately an hour later, you woke up. You patted your bed to find Aitana, but she wasn't there. You quickly got out of bed, feeling a little better, and went to the living room to get a cup of water. In the kitchen, you found Ciro.

"Where's—"

"She left about five minutes ago; she had to do some media stuff with Barcelona, and she didn't want to wake you," he explained.

—

For the next two weeks, you had fallen into a routine. Whenever you had chemotherapy, Aitana would take you back for lunch away from the hospital, and sometimes you would take small walks together or watch movies if you were extra tired. In those two weeks, you had gotten a chance to know her better. The more you talked to her, the more you couldn't picture yourself without her.

She was incredible. But most importantly, you loved how she made you feel. She was always so supportive, never failing to make you smile, but most importantly, she was ever-present.

Eva and Ciro would tease you so much because whenever she was around, you became a completely different person: nicer and more compliant. However, the mood from the first two weeks changed when you started losing hair.

You never really gave much thought to your hair; it was long and wavy, and honestly, you never thought about how being bald would actually make you feel. When single locks of hair started falling out, it was really a punch into reality. You had cancer, and your hair was falling out. Still, you didn't tell Ciro or Eva about it, and especially not to Aitana.

You were currently cuddling up next to her while she gently caressed your back. You had just finished your treatment for the week, and you were more exhausted than usual. Your throat was hurting, and your legs were aching as if you had just run a marathon. Aitana was rambling on about a book she started reading that you suggested.

"It's actually so good, no wonder you have great tastes in books," she lightly praised you, giving you a kiss on the scalp. She then tucked your hair behind your ear, but the lock remained in her hand.

"Since when have you been losing hair, Y/n?" she asked softly.

You moved away from her and sat on the couch, realizing that you had just lost another lock of hair. "It's been a week now," you uttered sadly. "Let's just not think about it, okay? I don't want to talk about it," you got defensive.

One thing that you didn't want was for Aitana to see you actually sick or suffering the consequences of cancer. One thing was tiredness, but another thing was losing hair.

"Do you maybe want to shave it all off?" she tried.

"Aitana, I don't want to talk about it, please."

"Okay, okay. I'll stop talking." You felt ashamed and embarrassed that she saw you like this, weak. So you completely closed off from her.

"It's getting late," you looked at your watch. "Tomorrow you have practice, and I have to study. I think that you should leave."

"Wha—"

"Aitana, please," you pleaded, with a vulnerability in your voice that you really didn't want to show.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped." With that, she left.

—

You took a loud sigh and went to the bathroom. Your brother's electric razor sat on the counter, and you just looked at it, unable to bring yourself to use it. You tried to convince yourself that you weren't actually losing her, but that didn't quite work.

Whenever you touched your hair, a lock would fall off. It was time to shave it off. Sitting down on the bathroom floor, you sighed deeply. Lost in your thoughts, you didn't even notice when your brother came back home.

He appeared in the bathroom after a couple of minutes. "There you are! I thought you left. Where is Aitana?"

"I told her to leave," you said absently, still looking at the razor. He looked confused, both by your state and how you had kicked out Aitana. "My hair started to fall off. I've been trying to shave it off all afternoon, but I can't." You broke down crying at the last sentence.

"Gosh, I feel so stupid! I never bothered until now about my hair, and now all of a sudden, I can't get rid of it!" Frustrated, you punched your leg.

He sat down next to you and grabbed the razor from you. "But it's not just hair, isn't it?" he stated simply. "Losing hair is a physical reminder of what you are going through. It's scary, especially because you are someone who deals with problems by ignoring them."

You released a choked-out chuckle. "It's scary. You have cancer, you can die. Just like dad. And losing your hair may feel like you are out of control, like your body isn't responding to you anymore like before. But it's just hair." He turned on the razor. "Hair will grow again eventually." He moved the razor next to his scalp, making you react almost immediately.

"What are you doing?" You tried to move his hand away from his hair, but he wouldn't budge.

"I'm showing you that you are not alone, and for as long as you are in this fight, we are in this together." He quickly shaved a whole strip of his hair.

"Are you an idiot! Why did you do that?!" You said angrily, knowing that he would most probably pull off something like this, and even if you begged him not to do it on multiple occasions, he still did it. He didn't bother with your angry tone as he kept shaving off his hair until he was nearly all bald.

"See! It's just hair. Losing your hair is tough, but you know what? It's just another step until you get better. You are a fighter, and you are stronger than this." You were at a loss for words, so you just hugged him.

"Did you search on Google how to talk with your family member who has cancer?" You chuckled lightly, trying to break a little tension.

"I did," he said honestly, earning a small giggle.

You stayed a while inside his embrace, but then you soon remembered why you were in the bathroom. "I think I'm ready to shave it off.”-

—

After a very intense and emotionally charged afternoon, you found yourself sitting on the couch wearing one of your old Adidas beanies. You realized that one drawback of being bald was the constant feeling of coldness. Touching your head without any hair on it was something you had to get used to. It felt strange yet oddly cathartic, signaling your readiness to continue with the treatment.

"So, are you going to tell me why you kicked out that poor girl who's been following you like a lost puppy since you met her?" Ciro jumped on the couch to sit next to you.

"She's not a lost puppy."

"Well, she's been ever-present, bringing you food and always taking naps with you even when she could be doing other stuff."

"Don't make me feel guilty," you said defensively.

"That's exactly what I'm trying to do. You haven't fully given her a chance, and I believe she wouldn't want anything more than for you to give her a chance. You are all she talks about." His confession made your cheeks redden, trying to hide away the stupid smile forming on your face.

"I don't want to hurt her," you uttered sadly.

"By pushing her away, you are doing just that."

"I know, but what if I give her a chance and it goes wrong? What if she decides it's too much, or I don't make it? I can't deal with that."

"What if it works? You're simply denying yourself some happiness, which I think you fully deserve."

"Why are you being so wise today?" You tried to change the subject.

"I'm just trying to help out my sister, plus I really hope that if the two of you get together, she'll stop talking about you during the physio sessions. That girl is chatty," he chuckled.

"I should probably go and talk to her," you said.

"She should be home; she told me she needed to rest for tomorrow's practice."

You put on your coat and left for Aitana's apartment with newfound determination.

#woso imagine #barca femeni #woso x reader #aitana bonmati x reader #aitana bonmati #alexia putellas #woso fic #barcelona femeni

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seungfl0wer · 4 months ago

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*I’ll do anything*

Part Title: Devils Helping Hand

Genre: Angst/Smut/Fluff?

Paring: Minho x Reader (Fem)

Warnings: Mafia!Au, Mentions of death, Sick sibling, Mentions of being shot, also mentions of being Minhos slave, slight blood mention

This will be a small series. For my 🔪 anon, they have a beautiful brain and now I’m obsessed with the thought of Mafia boss Minho 😪 (Their request/thoughts Here and Here) also side note this is the first series of writings I’ve done in a long while so please bare with me and my ramblings.

Series Master List

-🩵

You prepared for this for weeks, wanting it to go right because it meant everything if you could pull it off. Staring at the building knowing there was people in there willing to shoot you on sight. But none of that mattered if you could pull it off. Your brother has been getting worse and worse. He’s been in the hospital for the past month battling his illness but nothing seems to be helping. There’s a new treatment they want to try however it’s expensive. The insurance can only cover so much of it and the rest is up to you.

You’ve been working your ass off 2 jobs, barely eating to save money and your sleep schedule? People slept? You sighed loudly watching as people got into their car to leave. You’ve been scoping out the schedules of them seeing when they leave how long they stay how many go in and out. It was gonna work. It had to work. You find the window that’s been open for the past 3 days slinking your body through it. Bingo. The room was close to the one you needed. You peaked out the door quickly checking the surroundings before bolting to the room beside.

The door was locked but you learned how to pick a lock just for this. You worked your janky skills as you heard voices down the hall. Heart races as you quickly tried the lock and then it clicked. You were in! You hurriedly got into the room so know one could see. One thing that was very odd to you was there was no cameras. You even had a mask you were gonna wear but realizing there wasn’t anything you didn’t put it on.

You searched the room opening ever drawer and checking ever nook you could. You were getting frustrated not being able to find the safe you knew was there. Until you remembered in those movies people would keep things behind paintings. Eh it was worth a shot to check. Moving the few art pieces you rolled your eyes as you actually found the safe behind a painting of the boss. He was handsome, but word had it he was a very cold hearted man. I mean he had to be doing this job.

You searched anywhere to find a code he might have wrote down anywhere. You sighed why couldn’t it have been one of those with the tiny keys. As you looked you heard the door opening “fuck” you say in a whisper “this is it huh” you said to yourself. You weren’t going to go out with a fight though. You stood behind the door waiting for him to come in as he shut the door he looked over to his desk. Noticing things had been moved he turned to grab the door again only to be met with your eyes.

He was so calm and collected while your heart was about to beat out of your chest. Your palms started to sweat and you could feel a lump get stuck in your throat as you tried to speak. He tilted his head a bit looking you over “who hired you?” He asked staring at you eyes staying locked “I’ll pay you double what they’re paying you” he said still studying you. He seemed almost confused you looked like such a sweet girl. Your innocent eyes shaking as you stared at him.

“No one sent me” you admitted, trying to make eye contact with him. He scoffed a bit “you broke in here with out no one find you and you expect me to believe you” he laughed “what the hell did you come here for then? Do you have a death wish?” He said making his way to his desk. This wasn’t going as you expected but you weren’t leaving here empty handed. You stared at him as he looked at the painting that hid the safe. “Ah so you came for money is that it?” He questioned. You nod “My brother is sick” you said softly “i don’t give hand outs sorry” he laughs a bit before you cut him off “then let me work for you, I can do anything.”

He paused looking at you “I can get a whore anytime” he was about to say before you continued “I can clean really well, I’m also a pretty good cook” he raised an eyebrow he was honestly more confused than anything. “Pay me the money for my brother and in return I’ll be your servant” you said choking back tears. You couldn’t tell if it was from being upset about your brother or the fact this man could literally just kill you here.

He walked to his desk sitting down staring at you with big boba eyes “and if I refuse?” He smirked “what will little you do to me hmm?” He has a point what exactly could you do if he said no. The only thing you could really muster out was a “please” your hands trembled now, shaking so bad it felt like you were vibrating. Your legs felt like jello so wobbly and weak. You looked over your face making his way to you he lifted your head to make you look at him. He stared at you thinking hard “You will do anything I ask you. No protesting. Everything I say to you is met with a yes sir. If you cannot follow these orders say goodbye to your brother.”

That last part hurt a bit, but you nodded excepting the offer “good girl” he said in response dropping your face “how much exactly do you need?” He says like the money is an after thought like he was so rich it wouldn’t matter. “His first treatment would be 80K but his insurance is covering at least 10K so 70K.” You croaked out. It was so much money and that was only for the first treatment and it may not even work. You had 5K saved already from working yourself to death but it would take you forever to get it all.

He nodded “pocket change honestly” he said with a cold expression “I’ll pay it in full for you to come work for me for at least 6months” he said staring at you. You were honestly shocked 6months? You thought he’d just make you a slave forever “however you will move into my home for the time being so I can keep you close. Don’t want you running off after I pay” he laughed a bit “like you’d be able to hide from me” he said still laughing. “And if he needs another treatment we can work something out.” He said cracking his neck slightly.

You kinda just nod your head was empty at this point. Your body had almost gone numb at the thought of what you had offered. If you got yourself killed who would be there to help your brother? So you made a deal with yourself there and then, you were gonna put a smile on and work as hard as possible. No matter what the man would through at you. You were gonna live and live to see your brother better.

“So is it a deal darling?” He said his voice so sweet sounding but his face turned into a smug smile. “It’s a deal.” You said locking eyes with the man “Good choice, now please sit while I grab my stuff. We will swing by your house before we head to your new home.” You nod “oh by the way darling I never caught your name.” He said nonchalantly rummaging through his desk “I’m y/n.” You said as you watched the man he nodded slightly “Y/n- hmm. A pretty name for a pretty lady” he smiled.

Was he hitting on you? Your eyes widen a small bit thinking to yourself. The smile on his face widened a bit at your expression “gonna put you to work when we get there cause I’m starving” he said finding the paper he needed “oh by the way kitten, if you are going to my little slave just know you will not leave as innocent as you came here” he said smirking getting up putting his bag over his shoulder. That’s it. You had literally just sold yourself, not just for work but your body.

Shit. You said to yourself can’t he get any hooker or whatever he wants. He wouldn’t want you right? RIGHT!?

-🩵

He opened the door for you to get in the car he got in after sitting beside you. He told the older man driving your address and you headed to your house. Your mind buzzing thinking of what you are getting into. You broke the silence with a low “shit.” Minho turned his head in question wondering what had made you said that. But before he could ask the man had pulled into your place. It was a small janky apartment where he knew well had a lot of problems. Just last week someone from his group had shot someone dead in the street.

His eyes looked over at you how could you be living here? Someone so beautiful in such a crime ridden place, you didn’t have anyone here to protect you he thought to himself. Or did you? He never thought to ask honestly. And if you would have someone what then? He’d make sure they’d be outta the picture.

Minho broke out of his thoughts as you tapped his shoulder “uhm we’re here” you said softly looking at him with almost puppy dog eyes. You both walked in silence up to your door, your apartment was pretty empty you hadn’t bought much of anything after moving here. It was the closets and cheapest place you could get to your work and your brother. The place itself was very neat and clean almost looked like you just moved in.

Closing the door behind you, you turned to Minho “I have a question” you said avoiding eye contact. Before he could respond he heard a faint meow coming from the only chair you had in the living room. He smiled his expression softened as he knew what you were gonna ask. “I’ve always loved cats” he said walking towards the crusty looking cat. The cat rolled over as he approached exposing her little patchy belly. Her fur was a burnt orange color with a black and white batches over. She was a little chunky thing, with only one eye. Her meow was cute almost like a kittens meow how high pitched it was.

“Will she be joining you?” He asked as he petted her soft fur. His body language was so different now, he seemed approachable and kind. “Is that ok with you?” You said with hopeful eyes. He nods “of course” he pauses for second “when we get home you will address me as sir as I said before. You haven’t said it once but I will let it slide for now.” He said standing up staring at you “get what you need quickly.”

You head to your room grabbing clothes and such. As you did the man snooped through your house. Checking your fridge. Empty. Empty?? His jaw almost drops at the sight. It was so bare not even condiments. There was a single bottle of water, a small carton of milk and jar of jelly. What the fuck do you even eat? He questioned. How are you even alive if this is what your fridge looked like. He looked in the cupboard seeing a few canned foods but he noticed you had a whole shelf of cat food, treats and wet food. Of course. Damn you’re so sweet aren’t you. Buying food for your cat over yourself. God how’s he gonna be this tough guy over you when you’re this loving? He thought.

You came back out with a suitcase packing the cats stuff and putting her in her carrier. You looked at him as he stood by the door scared for what is to come but relieved your brother will be taken care of. You two walked back the car heading to your new “home” back again in silence.

-🩵

You pulled up to a beautiful house, it was nestled in the woods you could see a beautiful garden at the side with a small pool on the other side of the house. The house itself was not overly big. Bigger than one man needed but no mansion like you thought he’d have. Stepping out of the car Minho grabbed the carrier as you took your suit case out. You headed inside where he gave you a small tour, showing you where you’d be staying which was right across from his room.

“Alright now that you know the place I’m starving.” He said stretching his arms above his head “let’s see how your cooking skills are” you nod as you both walked towards the kitchen. You looked through the fridge that was stalked to the brim of fresh vegetables, fresh fruit and meat. Anything and everything you could really want. You quickly get to work on making him some fish over rice and some fresh steamed veggies.

As you cooked he watched over you, like a Sargent almost. He found it so attractive you could cook because he himself loved to cook. That’s a reason he’s never hired a chef but now he had you. Watching you make him food, your pretty lips in a pout almost as you focused on what you were doing. His body almost moved on its own, he pressed himself against your hands coming up to grab yours as you cook. “You should do it like this” he said helping you cook the fish.

He was so close to you, you could feel his hot breath on the back of your neck. Body pressed as close to yours as he could. His other hand resting firmly on your hip as his other wrapped around your hand that was holding the pan. You could feel him moving his hips slightly against you. Soft enough he thought you wouldn’t feel, but you did. God did you feel it. “Y/n” he said softly “you’re doing so well” his voice barely audible. The very intimate moment was interrupted by his phone ringing. His sighed loudly as he pealed himself away from your body grumply answering the phone.

“What” he hissed at whoever pulled him away from you. “Alright I’ll be right there” he said another loud sigh escaping his plush lips. “Of course I gotta go” he rolled his eyes. You titled your head a bit as you heard a car horn honking. He quickly went to the door “Make yourself at home I won’t be gone longer than 2 hours.” He said rushing out the door. You breathed out almost sad he had to leave. You wondered how much time he actually had to himself. He seems like he works himself a lot especially at the state of his house. You finished making his dinner placing it in the microwave for him to heat back up.

You kept yourself occupied cleaning up the kitchen, you cleaned up half the house before you sat down falling asleep on the couch. Minho finally came home later than he was supposed to. It was 3am, he looked exhausted slight blood painted his shirt. As he walked through the door he was almost shocked at how clean you had gotten things already. He saw you sleeping on the couch he was going to carry you to bed but remembered his shirt. He took a quick shower before coming back out. While he was in the shower you had heard him come home. You heated his food up for him setting it out on the table with a glass of whine you had found.

You slumped back into the couch waiting for him to come out only to quickly fall back asleep. The couch was so comfortable. You had been sleeping on a small bed on the floor. Anything was honestly better than it, it was so hard and lumpy.

Minho came out of the shower the smell of the food had filled the air his hungry stomach lead him straight to the kitchen. His heart cried as he saw you had warmed his food up and sat it out for him. Why the fuck are you being so kind to him? He thought to himself. He quickly devoured the delicious food you had prepared and oh boy was it delicious. He made his way to the couch seeing you had fallen back asleep he picked you up taking you to your room. You laid you down putting the covers over you and quickly kissing your forehead.

This was it. You were gonna ruin him. You already had his heart melting. Do flips at the sight of you. The thoughtfulness you had already shown and being so obedient cleaning when he didn’t expect you to already. He stared at you softly for a moment “one of us is gonna destroy the other, I can feel it. And honestly I hope it’s me who’s destroyed at the end” he said before placing another kiss to your forehead leaving to his room. He laid there staring at the ceiling just thinking of you before drifting off to sleep.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

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dreamdolldeveloper · 10 months ago

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back to basics

mostly free resources to help you learn the basics that i've gathered for myself so far that i think are cool

everyday

gcfglobal - about the internet, online safety and for kids, life skills like applying for jobs, career planning, resume writing, online learning, today's skills like 3d printing, photoshop, smartphone basics, microsoft office apps, and mac friendly. they have core skills like reading, math, science, language learning - some topics are sparse so hopefully they keep adding things on. great site to start off on learning.

handsonbanking - learn about finances. after highschool, credit, banking, investing, money management, debt, goal setting, loans, cars, small businesses, military, insurance, retirement, etc.

bbc - learning for all ages. primary to adult. arts, history, science, math, reading, english, french, all the way to functional and vocational skills for adults as well, great site!

education.ket - workplace essential skills

general education

mathsgenie - GCSE revision, grade 1-9, math stages 1-14, provides more resources! completely free.

khan academy - pre-k to college, life skills, test prep (sats, mcat, etc), get ready courses, AP, partner courses like NASA, etc. so much more!

aleks - k-12 + higher ed learning program. adapts to each student.

biology4kids - learn biology

cosmos4kids - learn astronomy basics

chem4kids - learn chemistry

physics4kids - learn physics

numbernut - math basics (arithmetic, fractions and decimals, roots and exponents, prealgebra)

education.ket - primary to adult. includes highschool equivalent test prep, the core skills. they have a free resource library and they sell workbooks. they have one on work-life essentials (high demand career sectors + soft skills)

youtube channels

the organic chemistry tutor

khanacademy

crashcourse

tabletclassmath

2minmaths

kevinmathscience

professor leonard

greenemath

mathantics

3blue1brown

literacy

readworks - reading comprehension, build background knowledge, grow your vocabulary, strengthen strategic reading

chompchomp - grammar knowledge

tutors

not the "free resource" part of this post but sometimes we forget we can be tutored especially as an adult. just because we don't have formal education does not mean we can't get 1:1 teaching! please do you research and don't be afraid to try out different tutors. and remember you're not dumb just because someone's teaching style doesn't match up with your learning style.

cambridge coaching - medical school, mba and business, law school, graduate, college academics, high school and college process, middle school and high school admissions

preply - language tutoring. affordable!

revolutionprep - math, science, english, history, computer science (ap, html/css, java, python c++), foreign languages (german, korean, french, italian, spanish, japanese, chinese, esl)

varsity tutors - k-5 subjects, ap, test prep, languages, math, science & engineering, coding, homeschool, college essays, essay editing, etc

chegg - biology, business, engineering/computer science, math, homework help, textbook support, rent and buying books

learn to be - k-12 subjects

for languages

lingq - app. created by steve kaufmann, a polygot (fluent in 20+ languages) an amazing language learning platform that compiles content in 20+ languages like podcasts, graded readers, story times, vlogs, radio, books, the feature to put in your own books! immersion, comprehensible input.

flexiclasses - option to study abroad, resources to learn, mandarin, cantonese, japanese, vietnamese, korean, italian, russian, taiwanese hokkien, shanghainese.

fluentin3months - bootcamp, consultation available, languages: spanish, french, korean, german, chinese, japanese, russian, italian.

fluenz - spanish immersion both online and in person - intensive.

pimsleur - not tutoring** online learning using apps and their method. up to 50 languages, free trial available.

incase time has passed since i last posted this, check on the original post (not the reblogs) to see if i updated link or added new resources. i think i want to add laguage resources at some point too but until then, happy learning!!

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dovesndecay · 5 months ago

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It's June! It's Pride! It's (my) Birthday!

The Introduction Spiel:

Hi, I'm Reyah! (any pronouns! no really, go for it!) On June 21st, I'm turning 32, an exciting and mysterious age to be!! (So I've heard)

Warning: This is a post asking for financial help, and if there's one thing I would ask is that if you read the whole thing: please reblog.

I'm a multiply-disabled queer person of color, a writer, artist, and photographer. I live with three of my best-good-pal-friends, (@renthony, @kryptidkhaos, and @natalieironside) and our collective army of pets.

We all know it's damned hard to be all these things at the same time under the capitalistic hellscape we're living under, and we/I am always in need of a lot of help with the existing.

I ended the month of May with some smaller bills left still to pay, but am thankful to say that June already had fewer bills than usual due, and the amount I need to start the summer off right is actually less than I was afraid it would be! Woohoo!

What I Make

I mentioned my artistic endeavors, let me show you them!!

Writing

I write less often than I'd like, but I share poetry and shorts, when I have them, on my Patreon!

You must be over 18 to pledge, as I have, can, and will again share Adult Content occasionally. Patrons pledging at least $1/month get access to all content. But most posts becomes free to access eventually. :)

When I do longer form content, I primarily write fantasy with a focus on queer brown characters with disabilities, mental illnesses, and disordered attachments. Because therapy is expensive, and writing is free.

Photography

I do wildlife and landscape photography, primarily, but you can also check out my portrait and event work on my website! You can purchase PRINTS HERE.

And because it's my birthday, I'm offering a 32% discount code for all my prints! The code is good from June 1st to July 1st!

A Note, if you purchase a print: first off: thank you. (please feel free to send a photo of wherever you display it!!!) secondly: this will not go towards the received totals on my financial need because Pixels doesn't pay out until nearly 2 months after the purchase. Funds made from sales will go towards future needs.

CODE: PDHHTR

Artwork

I've been exploring art, both analog and digital, a lot more lately, and have shared both process photos and final drafts on Patreon! Here are just a few examples:

I admittedly don't post on patreon as much as I wish I had the energy to, but I try to make at least one thing a month, provided I have the spoons and time.

Creativity is, like, a level 5 spell slot when you're disabled and impoverished, and I appear to have exactly One (1) of those available at any given time.

The Needs:

The Bills: $1,100

Yeah, we had to get here eventually. Since this post is already pretty long, I'm putting the rest under a cut.

More than half of this, as always, is just for the car payment and insurance that keeps the regular day-job-haver getting to said job, and all our medical appointments, errands, etc.

I still owe around $13,000 total on Johnny Car, but I think we all know that's just not a real number.

The rest of the funds would go toward paying the small subscriptions, for my various medications, and the regular attempts to whittle away slowly at the $4,300 worth of other debt.

($2,200 of back taxes, and $2,100 of credit card debt, and gods, do I mean slowly. Interest piles up so much faster than I can seem to whittle.)

If you're able and willing to help with paying the bills, direct donations can be made here:

PayPal | (link)

Venmo | (dovesndecay)

Cashapp | ($dovesndecay)

If you can, and only if you can.

The It Would Be Cools:

Since every dime that comes in goes primarily towards food and bills, there's little left afterward to be put towards other life necessities like clothes, toiletries, let alone things I just think would be nice/neat/nifty to have.

I have a High Priority wishlist. It's mostly art supplies, bulk toiletries, etc.

I'm woefully low on clothes, being short, fat, and trans, so very little of what I own actually feels good to wear so much as it simply covers my body. I have a wishlist of clothes that would be nice to have.

For everything that firmly lands under the "I just want it" category, I have an Enrichment list. It's mostly stuffies, but also games, room decor, hobby supplies, books, and stim toys.

Our household keeps a big wishlist for things we need, want, groceries, accessibility products, and everything in-between.

Okay, now what?

Well, now, I'm gonna ask that if you got to this point, and if you can't/don't want to do any of the things listed above, then please reblog this post.

The more people that reblog it, the more likely I'm able to pay my bills for one more month this year.

But if you don't, it's not like anyone's gonna know. I'm not omniscient, I swear.

Anyway, I don't expect anyone to do anything if you can't or even if you just don't wanna, but if you can and you're willing to, it means the world.

I didn't think this is where I'd be at 32. But I never really expected to get here at all in the end, and it's a lot nicer than I thought it would be. Mostly because I am surrounded by amazing people who have the capacity to be so much kinder than I will ever have the words to describe.

Thank you, and to all, a happy pride!

🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤

#fundraiser #dono post #mutual aid #long post #queer #nonbinary #disabled crowdfund

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starmocha · 5 months ago

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12:30 PM Checkup Zayne + Son | 767 words | AO3 Zayne has an appointment with a very adorable doctor. A/N: Maybe I’m ovulating or something lmao but I want this man’s babies. But since he’s fictional, I’ll settle for writing little self-indulgent ficlets. 🫠

It was one of Zayne’s very few days off, and unfortunately, he found himself at the doctor’s office for a routine checkup. It was fortunate, however, that the doctor was someone he was very familiar with and trusted completely with his health. As a matter of fact, the very esteemed doctor was his three-year-old son and the so-called doctor’s office was his son’s bedroom.

He watched with amusement as the little boy, a spitting image of his father minus the hair color, adjusted his doctor play clothes. Zayne could barely contain his chuckle when his son put on the faux round-rimmed glasses and walked over to him holding a clipboard while maintaining a comically stoic expression on his young face.

“Patient’s name is…Daddy!” the young doctor declared, looking expectantly at his patient.

Zayne chuckled and nodded. “Correct, Doctor.”

“I have to listen to Daddy’s heart,” the little boy said, holding up his toy stethoscope. He pressed the toy to his father’s chest, and looked thoughtful as he “listened” to the grown man’s heart. After a few seconds, he nodded approvingly. “Heart is good, Daddy.”

Zayne sighed in relief. “Thank goodness, Doctor.” He blinked in surprise as his son pulled out a reflex hammer.

“Daddy’s knee now!”

Over the next few minutes, the young doctor performed a thorough examination on his patient, checking his ear, eyes, throat, and so on, all while diligently scribbling his notes down onto his clipboard. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he reviewed the notes from the wellness exam.

“Well, Doctor,” Zayne started, looking at the young boy expectantly, “Is there a diagnosis?”

The boy nodded grimly. “Daddy is tired.”

Zayne held back his laugh at the child’s acute observation. “What would be your prescription for such an ailment then?”

“One strawberry candy every day,” his doctor replied, adding another scribble to his clipboard.

Zayne actually chuckled this time. “Consider it done.” His voice took on a serious tone as he looked at the little doctor concerned. “Doctor, I believe my insurance isn’t covered under your practice. May I use an alternative payment?”

The young doctor looked thoughtful as he rubbed his chin again before holding up three chubby fingers, answering with a serious expression, “Three macarons.”

“Outrageous!” Zayne exclaimed, mock-offended, “My previous checkup only costed me one box of apple juice.”

Zayne wondered belatedly if his tone and expression might have seemed a touch stiff when he realized his doctor was starting to tear up. He knelt down to his son’s level and wiped at the boy’s eyes, apologizing softly, “I didn’t mean to upset you. Daddy is just joking.” He smiled when his son calmed down and he rubbed the boy’s cheek affectionately, “Three macarons it is, but I am afraid payment will have to be postponed until after naptime.”

“No nap!” The boy crossed his arms defiantly. “I still have to check Mr. Seal and Pan-Pan and the Windy Carrots and—”

“Even doctors take naps,” Zayne interrupted with a firm voice before softening it again, “One might even argue that doctors enjoy naps the most.”

The boy looked up at him dejected. “Do you nap, Daddy?”

“Yes,” Zayne answered with a nod as he helped his son remove the doctor costume and put away some of the toys. He gathered his son into his arms as he carried the little boy to his bed. “Sometimes I nap in my car or office in between surgeries.” He tucked his son into bed, kissing his cheek. “Now, won’t you be a good boy and take your nap for Daddy?”

“Story?” his son gave him the most pitiful pout a three-year-old can muster.

Zayne sighed, half-exasperated and half-amused. “You are just like your mother,” he muttered to himself before sitting down on the edge of the boy’s bed. “Alright, one story.”

Zayne outstretched his hand, conjuring up snowy imageries as he spun a tale with evil carrots that had taken over an innocent kingdom. Thankfully, one brave seal stood up against this evil force and taken them down along with help from Happy Snowman and its friends.

The boy watched the snowy scenery with rapt fascination as it changed following Zayne’s storytelling. As Zayne neared the end of his impromptu story, he noticed his son’s sleepy face, catching sight of a yawn escaping. He smiled to himself and quickly wrapped up the story as he re-tucked the sleepy boy into bed.

“Sweet dreams,” Zayne whispered, kissing the top of his son’s head as the little boy finally dozed off, “When you wake up, Daddy will take you and Mommy out for macarons.”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace fanfiction #lnds fanfics #x — fanfics #lnds series — sweet little snowdrop #see i'm capable of writing something other than angst #🫠#consider this a filler #because i am coming for rafayel with the angst next #and that fish is going to hurt good #😊

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mcalhenwrites · 4 months ago

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Please boost if you can't help financially, thank you!

So here's the deal: My mom is getting a new car (used but new for her) and has a car that I could buy off of her. It's not the best and I can't afford it yet (alongside tags/taxes/insurance), but it's the only option I have. Buying a car anywhere else is either going to be extremely expensive, or I'm getting something from a stranger without knowing the car's issues. Three different people are giving me rides to doctor's appointments, errands, and work. I work two towns away. I have a book for sale. It's called Geckos, Automata. If you like urban fantasy with queers, automatons, necromancy, and the discussion of generational abuse and trauma, check it out!

Even if you've bought the book and want to help out, there are other ways as well! I have two tiers available on my Patreon: $1 and $3 If you like my writing already and want to support me, even $1/month is incredibly helpful! I've also got a Ko-Fi, with a car goal set already. You can send whatever amounts you like. I also will take art commissions, but they're just sketches and would be $15 per character, +$10 for an additional character. (Limit of 3 characters total.) You can ask me more about it if you're comfortable. Thank you so much whether you help out financially or boost this. It will help me out immensely, and it'll ease the strain on the three people who are giving me rides everywhere. I'm doing my best and working on writing, but I am disabled and struggling a lot financially despite all the different jobs I juggle. (And if I can't get rides, I can't even go to work, I can't get money. No, I don't have public transportation in the country.) I'm pretty desperate but I'm willing to work for my wages, and I'll work on publishing more stories. If you do want to check out my writing, I do have free original stories as well as fanfic up on my AO3.

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anon-sect · 22 days ago

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Can you write something like "A handsome cop in the metro station arrested someone and was about to take him to the police station.. But he was too stubborn to go and then the cop decided to turn him into his (cop's) cock and take him to the station

But the cop changed his mind and decided to keep him as his cock Against his will and nobody would know he's down there.. "

Officer Jason Blake was stationed at one of the busiest streets in town. He had his radar gun pointing at the traffic passing by. His radar gun alerted him to a vehicle good 95mph in a 45mph zone. He turned on his lights and pursued the suspected car. The car pulled over once the driver realized that he was after him.

Officer Blake got out and approached to see the driver was an average male with an average built frame. "I need to see your license and vehicle registration and insurance, please." He spoke to him. The driver handed him his credentials. "I pulled you over for speeding 50 miles over the speed limit" He added.

Melvin didn't want to get caught because he would be in even more trouble than a speeding ticket. He was driving with a suspended license, vehicle registration out of date and a canceled insurance card. "Mr. Officer, could I just get off with a warning rather than check those, please. I promise to obey the speed limit from now on." He slightly pleaded for some mercy.

"I have to do my job. I will be right back." Jason spoke to him as he went back to his patrol vehicle. He checked his credentials and found a suspended license of six months, vehicle registration that expired two years ago, and an insurance policy that was canceled even longer. There was also a warrant out for his arrest for driving without a valid license. Jason knew about how much paperwork this would be to take the guy in.

Jason went back to the vehicle. "Sir, you are under arrest for driving under a suspended license. " He issued him his miranda rights.

Melvin didn't want to go in. "Please let me off with a warning. Maybe pretend you never saw me." He spoke, refusing to unlock his door for the officer.

"You must come with me down to the station." Jason reiterated to him.

"Please, I will do anything to not be arrested." Melvin pleaded.

Jason thought about it. There was one way to get him down to the station. It would be a little tricky, but it surely will work. "Okay, get out and suck my cock. Your only option other than getting arrested." He spoke with a serious look on his face.

Melvin couldn't believe what he heard. "You serious, officer?" He had to ask to be sure he heard him correctly. "Your choice, be arrested or be my cock bitch right here and now." The officer told him looking really serious. He saw this was his only way of getting out of the situation. He didn't like either choice, but getting arrested would be the worst choice. He got out of his car and followed the officer to the other side. He knelt on the ground while the officer pulled out his cock. He swallowed his pride and began to suck it. He closed his eyes not to see his own embarrassment of what he was doing, just not to get arrested.

Jason looked down as the guy had his eyes closed and sucking his hot cock. He pulled out his TF ray phone with the setting of cock addition set. He fired a flash at the guy. He watched as the guy shrunk rapidly and absorbed into his cock. He zipped up his pants and got back in his patrol vehicle to head back to the station.

Melvin didn't know what happened, but he found himself quickly absorbed into the cop's dick. He couldn't stream for help. He could only manage slight movements to let the officer know of his dissatisfaction. This was a nightmare. Now, he would have rather been arrested. He didn't want to be another man's cock. He struggled and struggled in his new form, hoping to annoy the officer.

Jason felt his cock getting hard in his pants. He couldn't tell whether the guy loved his new look or hated it. Either way, he was stuck there for now. As he was getting closer to the station, he found himself enjoying the addition to his cock. His struggles were very erotic. As he got closer, he threw the guy's credentials out of the window. The guy was a great addition to his cock. He may as well keep him where he was, he thought to himself. If anyone asked, he would deny ever seeing the guy.

THREE MONTHS LATER.......

Jason passed by the missing person board. He saw a picture of the guy on the board. He smirked, looking at it. The guy really wasn't missing. He actually had been very busy being sucked on and driving into many asses. He was just the only one who knew about it.

#inanimate transformation #shrinkage #tf story #cock transformation #cop cock transformation #unwilling permanent transformation

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bomberqueen17 · 3 days ago

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looks like i picked the wrong week to quit amphetamines

no no that's a quote from the movie airplane. i tried amphetamines, by prescription, and i know i didn't find them particularly helpful, but i don't remember why. i've spent the last couple of weeks aggressively checked out of reality almost completely lost in my attempts to write a novel about solarpunk tall ships and the hot bisexuals who sail them, and that has been hella fun (i should share a snippet sometime. i will.) but it also means my car is still overdue for inspection and i need to figure out how to pay my physical therapy bill and i have several other urgent tasks piled up plus i still have an enormous quantity of luggage and things i removed from my cabin to winterize it piled in my house's entryway etc. so.

so anyway i've resumed amphetamines, since i had a two-week supply and only took one of them. and we'll see how that goes.

(yeah other friends of mine who've gotten diagnoses have had doctors insist on them monitoring their like, cardiac health or blood pressure with these, and it is slightly surprising to me that nobody has asked me about those things, but on the other hand, i seem to have been fine, so i guess this is ok. i found this guy through my insurance company so this isn't like. well. i don't know. it's the finest supervision i can get through my shitty insurance i guess.)

anyway. tall ships bisexuals is actually going pretty well but extremely disorganizedly. i need to get that under some kind of control.

i bought a stand mixer but haven't gotten it yet.

I also just forgot what i was going to write here, so this is going really well, score another one for the vyvanse. yes yes i'm keeping a comprehensive journal.

wow no really i don't remember where i was going with this. heck! welp. oh yeah no, i've been queueing enormous numbers of political posts and then going back and deleting them as unhelpful, so you're welcome. facebook memories helpfully showed me my post from eight years ago on this topic and mostly i'm like oh wow i was on facebook eight years ago? but if i look, mostly i was not. lol i signed up for facebook almost twenty years ago and decided it was Not For Me almost fifteen years ago and it still sends me twenty emails a day about my friends it's holding hostage, this is kind of amazing. anyway.

well i've been sitting here trying to lure my agitated cat to sit down and kick me out of the recliner, and after literally half an hour it has finally worked. so, off i go to drink like three gallons of water because that is the one thing i remember about being on meth that was really really important. you think "ah i need some more water" and you pour yourself a cup of it and it's gone and you're like "where did that go" so you drink three more cups and then you're like "wow i'm thirsty did i forget to drink water" and you wind up drinking incredible amounts of water and never peeing so. anyway that's a lot easier now that it's winter and i'm living someplace with running water, so. thumbs up.

woof i took a multivitamin and a fish oil capsule at the same time and i can taste that fish oil capsule, well done me =_=

#personal #about the author #adhd or something #i don't remember what tags i was using #solarpunk tall ships bisexuals #that's my new tag for that one i tell you what

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formulatrash · 1 month ago

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What Hot Hatch* Should Every F1 Driver Have? Pt 1

*some of these cars are not technically hot hatches but they are, spiritually, hot hatches to ME and also car genres are meaningless shut up

Unfortunately because I have problems I allowed the group chat to commission me into writing this. I think you will be able to see the point where I really unleashed the thoughts that probably ought to be kept inside. Maybe I will keep Pt 2 to myself.

Max Verstappen - Honda Civic Type R This was tricky because we know the grid's resident cat dad is actually an SUV girly off the track. But he's also a brand loyalist and I'm fairly sure literally has had one of these as his factory car so it checks out that a car notorious for having a better engine than it did chassis would fit the Red Bull post-Newey meltdown. And if you need to go round a bunch of roundabouts there's really almost nothing rivalled to a Civic Type R.

Lewis Hamilton - og Nissan Leaf Yes, Lewis has never had any association to the Renault-Nissan alliance in his life but whatever he's leaving Mercedes. Think he's sort of forgotten about this but he did commit to only driving electric road cars awhile back and I will defend the Nissan Leaf with my LIFE as one of the most fun cars to drive. Nearly said the NISMO Leaf but actually the time I had a go in one of them it was insanely overbearing in a way someone used to having Bono to whine to wouldn't appreciate. The stripped down, basic, original is more than enough to fuck about in a multistory car park and I'm confident Lewis would immediately know what to do with it when next to a BMW at traffic lights.

George Russell - Williams Renault Clio This was actually what started it because I was introducing my beautiful wife to the groupchat and then considering which driver should throw some pocket money at it. Leaving aside the fact that if I was that rich there'd be a lockup in Monte Carlo full of the shittest mid-90s three-doors you've ever seen in your life, this car is perfect for George. It's got a legitimate heritage connection and it's a proper piece, something to look after. There's even matching sweaters for him and Carmen to wear in a sponsored post. And when he gets that look in his eye and starts clenching his jaw too much it's extremely good for doing donuts outside Carrefour.

Sergio Perez - Toyota GR Yaris No, I know he drives for a Honda works team but if they haven't fired him yet they'll probably overlook this. The GR Yaris is a bit of a North American legend because you can legally only get it in Mexico - they're not obtainable in the US. So this is an understated big dick move and maybe what Checo needs is to have a little obnoxious fun, y'know?

Charles Leclerc - Sbarro Super Eight Oh, Charles. Tied up in scarlet. In order to maintain his Maranello-chained brand suffering nothing but Ferrari's finest horsies could do but they're not really in the business of making mean little things to hoon. Unless you consider the driver academy, I guess. Anyway - the Sbarro Super Eight is a Ferrari 308 V8 engine in the body of the kind of vehicle you can get insured on under the age of 25. It has too much (260) horsepower, it's a little silly and deeply selfconscious. And like il predestinato there is only one in the whole world.

Carlos Sainz Jnr - VW Golf This isn't even a statement about what car he should have, this is a car he does have. Mr Sainz and I may disagree about many things but his opinion that the VW Golf is the ultimate road vehicle is absolutely correct. Anyone who's seen the excruciating DTS segment where he tries to take a McLaren to M&S for a disappointing taco mix purchase will understand why Carlos held on to his Golf, a much better vehicle for picking up some bits. In the words of the man himself: "No Golf, no party"

Lando Norris - Lancia Delta Integrale Mk 2 "la Perla" Anyone with my Instagram recommendations will know in quite some alarming detail which Monegasque petrol station Lando uses to fill up his collection of sports cars. Weird fan paparazzi behaviour aside, the man likes buying unique cars and clearly isn't above something quirky given the Fiat Jolly. The Delta Integrale "la Perla" 1) sounds a bit like a sex toy in a way I think he'd find amusing, 2) is rare, with a totally impractical pearlescent white paint job for something ostensibly intended to hoon. It's expensive, semi-unique (allegedly only a few hundred were made) and a little bit silly, with plenty of rally-proven power and drive to muck about with.

Oscar Piastri - Honda City Turbo Oscar seems like the kind of guy who doesn't care too much about appearances. Not in the sense he looks bad - he very clearly does not - but like, lot of rumpled shirts in his wardrobe he's not bothered about ironing, y'know. So it fits that he'd need a hot hatch that does the job more than it's about aesthetic. The things I know about Oscar are that he likes to spend time with his girlfriend and he learned Japanese at school so I'm diagnosing him with JDM import disease and making sure there's a passenger seat. The Honda City Turbo is a teeny weeny little car that only makes its way into being a hot hatch not a kei car because of the totally unnecessary powertrain. And what a fucking powertrain, straight from the Mugen division into the least likely chassis imaginable. Yes, the car is not the most ostentatious looking thing but it's technically interesting and sick as hell so whatever.

Zhou Guanyu - Renault Twingo 133 Silverstone edition Zhou is a man of immense taste and style. He has a great little cat. He is a national icon in his home country and, frankly, any other. He has spent a lot of his life in Sheffield. Aside from this making him basically an idealised form of bloke, I think this means I can entrust him with the Twingo. Not, it's got to be said, overpowered as a car in its base model (my Mk1 Twingo could boast a 0-62 measured in minutes) Renault have never been able to resist souping it up a bit and for some unlikely series of reasons made a sport version to tie into the 2011 British Grand Prix. I don't even want to know why, now, it's better that it stays a mystery. Anyway, this is a Twingo with unnecessary horsepower and live data feeds the Mk1 would probably have a misfire even considering. It's quirky, comes with plenty of backstory and y'know. Whomst amongst us hasn't been screwed around with by Renault a bit in the past?

Valtteri Bottas - the Suzuki Jimny The Jimny is a car of greats. Deceptively small, it works perfectly in a city or if you need to drive up a mountain to get to a gravel course. loads of room at the back for a bike rack. It's practical, a little odd-looking in a charming way and everyone's delighted every time they see one. You can definitely get your ass out in this vehicle. Is it a hot hatch? Probably not but you don't get to define how the Jimny lives its life.

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specialagentlokitty · 1 year ago

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911 x Autistic!teen!reader - just slightly different

I love your writing 💕❤️💕💕 could you do one for 911 where Teen autistic Reader is volunteering at the station and during a car crash (someone got t-boned, but no one was seriously hurt just a few scratches and stuck in a car) Chim and Eddie were talking about how the Reader is so smart and serious all the time whenever she was volunteering and will scream whenever someone accidentally mess up her order of cups she always has in the cupboard. Then as she goes in a ditch and exclaimed that she found a wheel, lifting a medium size wheel, getting a few laughs from most of the - Anon💜

Standing next to Bobby, you looked at the scene in front of you, it wasn’t serious, it’s why they let you come.

“So, what do you see?” He asked.

“Well, give the damage on the second car, it was the first cars fault. Purposely stopped.”

Bobby nodded his head.

“You’re good. What else?” He smiled.

You walked around the car, taking a look at the two women who were yelling and arguing with one another then back to the cars.

You stopped by the first one and crouched down.

“Insurance money.”

“How do you know that kid?” Chim asked.

He stood behind you and looked to where you pointed, to where the rear right wheel shouldn’t be.

Grabbing your phone, you used the torch to look around the empty spot and reached in, giving it a little shake.

“The cars broke, instead of getting it repaired she decided to get insurance money. And what better way to get it then forcing her ex husbands new girlfriend to crash into her.”

You took up and looked around before making your way into a ditch.

“She’s a smart kid.” Eddie said.

“Part of our volunteers program that we’re running alongside of her school.” Hen smiled.

You looked around and found the missing wheel, grabbing it, you dragged it back up the ditch and picked it up in both hands.

“I’ve found the wheel.”

They all looked at you and laughed, watching as you walked over and dropped the wheel in front of Athena, pointing it to.

“The rim is broke, snapped clean in half.”

You moved it over to her and made your way back to the ladder truck and climbed in, leaving the door open for the others.

“Well someone knows her stuff.” Eddie smiled.

He climbed up after you and sat next to you.

“I know a lot of stuff.”

Eddie laughed a little, putting his helmet on your head and you looked up at him.

“But apparently not how to smile.” Chim said.

He climbed up as well and you pulled the helmet off, and you looked at him.

“You’re so incredibly smart, but we’ve never seen you smile.”

You shrugged a little and looked at your phone to check the time.

“You’re just not very funny.” You replied.

Eddie laughed and Chim rolled his eyes.

You all made your way back to the station, and you immediately made your way upstairs.

“Come on, how can someone be so smart not seriously smile?” Buck asked.

“Maybe she doesn’t like to smile, stop trying to make her smile idiots.” Hen said.

You went up the stairs and opened the cupboard to get a cup, and you stared at all the mismatched cups and closed the cupboard again.

Making your way to the railing, you placed your hands on it.

“Who messed up the cups?!” You yelled.

The squad looked up, and it was Buck who sheepishly raised his hand and they all looked at him.

Bobby planted a hand on the younger firefighters shoulder.

“You’re going to have to fix it now.” He chuckled.

“Fix it!” You yelled.

“Sorry! Sorry!”

Buck ran up the steps and took all the cups out the cupboard and looked at them all.

He turned back to you.

“I don’t know how they go.”

You walked over to help him sort all the cups out and explain how they should go and he happily helped fix the mistake he had made

#911 #911 fox imagine #911 fanfic #911 fox x reader #911 fandom #911 fic #911 x reader #911 fox x you #911 fox

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ladylooch · 1 month ago

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Summary: Kailey and Miles have their off day plans ruined when her water breaks.

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: blood, hospitals, pregnancy, birth, surgery, birth trauma, vomit. Basically if medical things freak you out, don’t continue on 😅

[Kailey]

“Remember when I was excited to lay on the couch all day?” Miles asks me as he walks into the Rose Medical Center. He has both of our bags slung over his shoulder and the carrier for the baby in his right hand. I tried to tell him we probably didn’t need that quite yet, but his nervous energy had him grabbing it anyway.

“You did this to me.” I snicker, tossing an amused grin over my shoulder at him.

“Yeah, I remember doing it to you too.” He hits my butt with the car seat gently.

“It was from behind.” I murmur as I walk up to the front desk. “ Hi, I’m Kailey Wood. I called Dr. Schmidt and he asked me to come in.”

“Great! I’m going to have you fill out some quick paperwork and we will get you checked in.”

I begin writing out the necessary items. Miles slides his health insurance card on the counter then settles a hand on my lower back. He rubs his thumbs into my tightened muscles there. I huff out a little noise of pain at the contraction tightening my belly up.

“Becoming parents is better than a couch day though.” Miles murmurs as he helps me get into the hospital gown once we are in the birthing suite. I smile, leaning my head back into his shoulder when he is done closing it up.

Miles isn’t wrong. We had a full day of vegging on the couch planned for his off day today, but our son decided to break my water and now we are here. Who knew curb walking this morning would be so productive?

Big hands stretch along my belly as Miles drops his lips to kiss along my clothed shoulder. He breathes me in, then releases me as I head towards the bed, wanting to lay down.

“I’m so glad you’re in town.”

“Me too.” He nods.

That fear of him being gone has now dissipated. He is here, ready to jump into full supportive partner and dad mode with me.

A lot has changed since that 20 week appointment. It is like Miles has transformed into a completely different person. He has worked hard to do better, show up fully, and walked with me hand in hand the rest of this journey. He was early to every post practice appointment. He made sure I felt pampered when I went home to Masschusettes for my baby shower. Then I had the most amazing gender reveal for me in our home back in Colorado. I’ll never forget opening the nursery door and seeing Connor’s name on that navy blue wall. The look on Miles’ face and the way he whispered: “I haven’t handled any of this well. I know you felt alone before. But you’re not. I’m here. Forever. I promise you.”

I knew he meant it then. His firm squeeze of my hand tells me again now.

“Ooooo f-fuck.” I stutter out. I shake my head. “You’re never coming in me again.” Miles chokes. “Just kidding.” I grin at his distraught face. “But I want the epidural as soon as I can get it.”

“Roger, baby.” He murmurs.

The nurse comes in to check on where I am measuring now that they have been able to get some data about the contractions. I am happy to hear that I am narrowing in on 5 cm dilated. All things considered, things are moving forward quickly. However once I start to move more into active labor, nothing is funny. Miles tries to joke with me about the look on my face and I pierce him to the chair with a glare.

“Sorry.” He squeaks, wincing at the grip I have on his hand.

“Where are my drugs?” I snap.

“Uh, let me go check!” Miles launches up. He tries to wiggle out his fingers discreetly but I see it. This man punches hockey helmets for a living but my grip is too much? I snort and shake my head at that. Men ain’t shit.

When he comes back into the room, he has the anesthesiologist with him. We get through the next anxiety inducing piece of labor and then I am settled back into the bed. The nurse is in the corner of the room, typing in notes to my chart. She closes the computer up, then smiles at us.

“Dr. Schmidt just got here. He will be by within the hour.” Then she disappears. I slide my gaze over to my husband.

“We are alone so much more than I expected. What are we paying these people for?”

“I don’t know.” He chuckles. “But I kinda like it just us.” He leans down to kiss me. “You’re doing great. Have I told you how beautiful you look?”

“No.”

“Fucking stunning.”

“Liar.” I smirk.

It quickly falls off my face as another contraction bares down on me. Miles gives me his hand and rubs between my shoulder blades. The pain sears through my bones, making me writhe on the bed uncomfortably.

“Breathe, babe.” Miles encourages. I puff out a breath, then inhale sharply, holding it again. “Breath-”

“You fucking breathe.” I snap.

“Okay.” He nods, watching my face. He matches my snarls with a wince that scrunches his crooked nose. “Oof, good job. Should be evening out soon.” I feel a lump growing in my throat at that. He read those baby books cover to cover and every pamphlet he could get his hands on.

This is my Miles. There is no one else on this Earth I would want holding my hand right now.

“I love you, baby. I’m sorry. It just hurts so bad.”

“Yell at me all you want. I’m tough.” He assures me, blue eyes sparkling with adoration as he watches me relax back into the bed.

A knock sounds at the door, then Doctor Schmidt greets Miles and I enthusiastically.

“Hey! It’s baby day!” He exclaims as he washes his hands in the sink. “How are we doing, Kailey?”

“Ugh.” Is all I respond with. I shift my hips on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position. It’s no use. There is none at this stage.

When is that damn epidural going to kick in?

Another contraction hits me and I hunch forward in pain. Miles raises to his feet, rubbing my back in concern.

“Should she be in this much pain after her epidural?” He asks the question I can’t form words for at the moment. I grit my teeth harder, moaning as it feels like my body is resisting every contraction now. I’m dreading the next one as this one ends.

“Well, it depends. People react to epidurals in different ways. But let’s take a look at what is going on.” He steps between my legs with a nurse behind him. His eyebrows pull together as he examines me. He glances over at the contraction monitor then frowns deeper. “I’m not liking what I’m seeing.” He says directly to me.

“Okay.” I whimper.

“It’s going to be okay. No need to panic.” He holds his hand up as he stands to his feet. “But we know you’ve got a big boy in there for your small frame. With how many contractions you are having, he should have progressed further into the birth canal. With that not happening, its telling us that the contractions are not strong enough to move him forward. This raises concerns for potential shoulder dystocia, which would be an emergency situation for us. Knowing that risk is there, I don’t think it is safe for you or the baby to continue forward like this.”

“Oh. Wow. Um, yeah. Whatever you think is best. I just want him safe.” I say, stretching my fingers over my bare belly. Miles puts a big hand there too, fingers absently playing with the strap of the fetal monitor.

Since our 20 week appointment, we have been closely monitoring the baby’s measurements.This is not a surprise to us and I’ve long ago accepted that I may not be able to push him out of me. While I can empathize with mothers who desire to do that, all I care about is our baby being okay.

Miles kisses my forehead. I tilt my lips up to him, asking for a smooch.

“I love you.” He murmurs, squeezing my hand. “You got this, baby. Tough as hell.”

“I love you too.” I assure him, making sure to keep my face neutral so Miles doesn’t start to panic.

There is no need to panic. We are in great hands. This is all about safety and prevention.

Surgery prep begins quickly after Dr. Schmidt gives the word to the staff. Miles disappears to scrub in and I get more drugs loaded into my IV. I close my eyes as they place a hair net over my hair.

I am ready for this. I can do this. I’m so excited to meet our son I can barely sit still in the bed as they wheel me to the operating room. Plus, no longer being pregnant with this big baby will be instant, sweet relief for my hips and lower back.

Time to make this c-section my bitch, I think to myself as they stop the bed in the center of the operating room. Miles is there, smiling at me with his phone raised.

“This is your best look.” He teases, snapping a few pictures. I smile nicely for one after making funny faces at him previously. He giggles in his signature way, showing off the gap in his front teeth. “So gorgeous, babe. Mom material for sure.”

“Just call me MILF.” I chuckle.

A sheet is lifted up, cutting off the view for Miles and I to my lower body. His smile slides off his face and he takes a deep inhale. His blue eyes grow a little wet looking. Tears fill my eyes at his obvious worry.

“It’s okay.” I whisper to him. He nods.

“Stop worrying about me.”

“It’s like I’m a mom or something.” I grin at him. “You did that to me.”

“Thank god.” He presses his nose to mine.

“Kailey?” Dr. Schmidt asks.

“Yes?”

“How are we doing?”

“Good. Ready!” I insist.

“Miles?”

“Ditto, Doc.”

“Great. Parenting test one is already passed.” Miles and I laugh. “Kailey we got you strapped down because we don’t want any involuntary moments. We’re going to give you some more drugs to just take some of the rawness of surgery out of your mind. You’ll still be awake. You’re going to feel some pulling and tugging- general pressure too. You shouldn’t feel any sharp pains. If you do, let us know.”

“Okay.”

“Miles, you have the hardest part of all… sitting there and looking pretty.”

“Yeah, think my days of looking pretty ended when I lost my teeth that second time.” My husband jokes.

“I know a guy if you need ‘em.”

“Yes!” I say before Miles can fill in.

The room settles into a more medical air after that. Tools are opened, medical jargon is discussed, and a nurse stands on the other side of me from where Miles is. Another nurse hovers by the clear bassinet ready to hold our baby. I purse my lips at the thought. Our baby. He’s coming.

The specifics of what begins to happen next blur with whatever drugs the anesthesiologist has started in my IV. I feel cool and relaxed, vision blurring slightly around the edges. Miles fingers come to my cheek, rubbing there in a comforting, soothing rhythm.

“Ready?” He asks me. I nod in response, eyes blinking slowly, then opening again.

Time passes in a similar blink. Miles’ blue eyes never move from my face. I keep alternating between looking at the ceiling and him. He chuckles at the far off look my eyes must be glazing over him.

“Drunk AF.” He jokes.

“Mhm. Maybe drugs aren’t so bad.”

“Shhh the baby might hear.” Miles teases me.

“We live in Colorado. He’s gonna know about drugs.”

“Can’t wait to yell at him when I find him smoking weed in his bedroom.”

“And here I am, waiting for his first word and steps.” I mumble. My tongue feels swollen and clunky in my mouth. “ ‘M drunk.”

“Too much tequila before we came huh?”

I’m about to tell him to shut up when Dr. Schmidt calls my name.

“Hm?”

“I’ve got my hands around him. I’m going to pull him out. You’ll feel some of this. It’s normal.”

It feels foreign and alien like to know hands are inside my body. If I was more clear minded, I might care but right no-

A shrill cry shoots through the room. Miles exhales a breath, then shoots his eyes towards the curtain in awe. My head turns towards the noise, desperate to see a peak of the baby I’ve been growing for all these months. Tears fill my eyes and fall down without restraint. Miles rubs his thumb along my jaw, fingers extending along my throat to hold me as much as he can right now.

“What’s he look like?” I croak out to my husband.

“He has a ton of hair. It’s curly!” He beams proudly over at our son being cleaned with towels. Then he grins down at me, pressing his mouth to mine. His lips devour me as he rubs my hair over the hair net. “You doing okay?” He asks. I nod weakly, feeling disoriented. Miles straightens back up to look at our son.

“We’ll get him cleaned up and over to mom in a second.” One nurse assures us.

The room begins to feel extremely cold. A large shiver rolls through the parts of my body that I can still feel. My vision blurs together until all I can see is dots of color. I blink, wondering if there is something in my eyes I need to clear away. It doesn’t get better. It gets worse. Vertigo attacks me; I feel like my body is going to roll off the operating table. My lips are glued together, tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth even as I want to form words to Miles.

“Baby, are you okay?” Miles asks, leaning closer to my face. His thick eyebrows are lowered in concern.

“Something isn’t right.” I say to him… at least I think I do, but then I realize I can’t move my mouth and everything is so cold and then……

Nothing.

- - -

[Miles]

I watch in horror as Kailey’s eyes suddenly shut. Her head goes limp and falls slightly to the side. A nurse puts an arm on my bicep. I try to move away from the touch, then another nurse is there.

“Dad, we need you to step out of the room.”

“I’m not leaving her.” I insist. I reach out for her shoulder, desperate to touch her body.

“Miles.” Dr. Schmidt’s calm voice comes over the sheet. “Kailey needs you to go.”

Something about how he phrases that has the hair on the back of my neck standing up. I want to go back to joking about my teeth. Right fucking now. Alarms start going off on the machines she is connected to. Hospital codes are shouted between the staff members. I stumble back, awkward on my footing as I attempt to remember where the door was. A nurse guides me to the right. I follow blindly.

My ears are ringing so loud that whatever the nurse is saying to me isn’t registering. My eyes blink slowly as I seek to orient myself. My legs lead me out of the OR, but nothing is making sense.

“How about we sit?” I hear her say through my vibrating heartbeat. Her hands come to my shoulder and side and she pushes until I’m seated on the floor in my scrubs. “Take a deep breath, dad.” She says that name again. Dad. And it jolts me. My baby. Our baby. But then, Kails. Where is she, I want to ask but I know she’s in there. In that room cut open without me.

“Is my wife going to die?” I blurt out to the nurse. Her face is purposefully neutral, just like my mom talked about with her nursing career. I doubt she will answer me and she doesn’t. Just encourages me to breathe. I don’t want to see Dr. Schmidt come out of that room. I don’t want them to tell me that she’s…. I jolt forward and the nurse flies back. I puke in her vacated place. She holds my hand, running her gloved thumb over my skin. Another nurse is walking by and they speak while I continue retching between my legs. I wipe the back of my hand over my mouth.

“Kailey.” I moan, trying to stand up. “No. Please. Fuck…. No!” I begin to sob, tears blur my vision into a watery vortex. I shake like a small child on the cold tile of the hospital outside the room where they do who knows what to my wife. “Please.” I cry again, the nurse finishes cleaning up my vomit. Another nurse leaves the OR with our baby in his clear container. I can hear his wails. My throat closes. I try to ask her to wait, to let me see him again, but I can’t form the words.

Nurses and doctors run by me. Some go into the room, others dash to different places of the hospital. I hear a page go over the intercom followed by the OR number of Kailey’s room. Then a different nurse encourages me up. She takes me back to the birthing suite we had walked out of less than 30 minutes ago. All of our stuff is still there waiting for us, but Kailey isn’t here. I look at her flowery, silk robe discarded on the couch from when she got too hot during her contractions. I gag again, thinking of where she is. The nurse disappears, off to do her job elsewhere as I struggle to maintain living.

Live without Kailey? I can’t.

The thought is sobering, widening my eyes as I struggle for my next breath. I vowed 5 months ago to protect her. To be her safe place through the good and the bad. I’m already failing at my vows. Yet I have no control over the situation we are in. I have no choice but to keep sitting here in the hospital bed she should be recovering in while they do whatever they need to save her.

The idea of living without her passes through my mind again. Stabbing pain follows causing me to rock slightly backwards on my feet. I bring a hand up to my chest, balling my scrubs into a fist over my heart. I see it all clearly: being a single father while trying to play in the NHL. Raising our baby alone, without the love of my life. The one who saves me from myself and made us a family of three. The one this will all be utter hell without. I squeeze my eyes shut, bringing my thumb and middle finger up to my eyes to collect my tears before they roll down my cheeks.

“I can’t do this alone. Kails, baby, please.” I sob out. My shoulders shake as I break down. Fat teardrops collapse into the stark bed sheet next to my thigh. I start to hyperventilate, struggling for oxygen as sharp gasps fill the room. I lay back onto the bed, staring at the white porous ceiling tile above. Tears continue to leak out while a numbness extends through my body.

“Miles?” Someone calls from the doorway. I sit up, wiping my cheeks, hopeful for an update on Kailey. Instead, I see a new nurse, with her hand on the corner of a rolling bassinet. “Would you like to meet your son?”

This is not the moment I saw for us. I saw Kailey here. I saw him on her chest doing skin to skin as we celebrated the moment he joined us. Not this. Not us meeting in this dark, hospital room that she is missing from while I ponder if I’m going to have to raise him by myself. What would Kailey do? She would be brave. She would hold our baby and tell him it will be okay because we have each other.

So, I nod, standing up, suddenly nauseatingly nervous. The nurse wheels him in. He is swaddled in a ‘back is best’ blanket with a pink and blue striped hat. He looks exactly like me. His eyes and face are swollen from the trauma of his birth. Red marks dot along his forehead and one of his cheeks. He has been cleaned up, no goop or anything, just soft pink skin.

To sum him up in one word, he is perfect.

“Hi buddy.” I hear my voice whisper.

“How about you sit back down and I’ll hand him to you?” The nurse suggests. That is when I realize I am shaking. Trembles of adrenaline roll through my whole body. I lower myself gently, then weave my arms together in anticipation of him being placed there. When I feel the soft cloth of his blanket hit my skin, I sigh. I make sure to support his head, awestruck at how small and fragile he is.

“You are perfect.” I whisper to him. “Just like your mama.” He jerks, feeling my body heat and turning his head towards me. “I love you.” I breathe out. “I’m going to take care of you. We are going to be okay.” I suck my bottom lip into my mouth. It presses up against my gums where my teeth are missing.

My sexy toothless. I can hear Kailey’s voice now, teasing me as she gets ready for date night in the bathroom of our old Hoboken apartment. I swallow hard, looking up at the nurse.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have news on mom to share. I’ll come back in a little bit to check on you.” She says, then leaves the clear bassinet in the corner, shutting the door behind her.

I am unsure how long we sit there like that. The baby lays contently in his swaddle, tight and warm, while I try to wrap my brain around my new reality. At some point, I move from the bed to the chair, hopeful that Kailey will be coming in soon. I hear no news. Nobody comes to check in on us for at least 90 minutes.

Then, there is a soft knock at the door.

“Come in.” I call after clearing my throat. I bounce my son as I sit up straighter to keep him asleep.

Doctor Schmidt appears. My heart floats into my throat. I try to read his face. He looks tired as he pulls off his surgical hat. The knuckle of his thumb flicks his nose up as he wipes at it.

“Hi Miles.”

“Hi.” My voice gives out on me midway through the word. I clear my throat before continuing. “What is going on? Is she okay?”

“Kailey is stable, yes.” He nods decidedly. I exhale heavily, my body falls back into the chair while clutching the baby in my arms tighter. “She experienced severe hemorrhaging due to a lack of contracting of her uterus. Her blood vessels were not clamped tight enough and began to release a significant amount of blood. We were not able to get the bleeding under control fast enough and it began to pool into her abdomen.” I suck in a heavy breath, holding our son even closer to me. “It took some time, but we were able to successfully stop the bleeding. She is currently receiving a full blood transfusion. She’s taking it well, so we are expecting her to be ready for recovery shortly.”

“When can we see her?”

“We are going to monitor her through the full transfusion, then move her here. Another hour or so.” I nod, then look back down at our son. He wiggles in his sleep, trying to adapt to the world out here where it’s so loud and bright and cold.

“Does he have a name?” Dr. Schmidt asks.

“Connor.” I respond. Kailey and I have said his name hundreds of times during her pregnancy. But saying it to his face, knowing what he looks like, having him in my arms, introducing him to someone else, it hits differently. Tears fill my eyes, falling down my cheeks silently.

“Welcome to the world, Connor.” The doctor pats my shoulder encouragingly. “Hang in there, Miles. You’re doing great. She will be in soon.”

After he leaves the room, I melt. The exhaustion drapes over my body, going into every joint and muscle group. I feel a dull, tension headache pounding in my temples.

But Kailey is okay. She is alive in another room. Her heart is still beating. And in my arms is our baby boy.

Everything else is grossly insignificant.

[Kailey]

My eyelids feel heavier than bags of concrete mix. I want to open them but can’t. Soft beeping reaches my ears assuringly. My brain tries to tell my hands to touch my belly, but they don’t want to move. They’re weighted down too.

Mindlessly, I drift in and out of consciousness for a long time. So long, I’m convinced days have passed. In time, my brain does get my hand to lift. I try to bring it to my belly to check on the baby, but it’s still weighted down. It takes a few more moments to realize a hand is on top of mine, brushing comfortingly along each knuckle. I turn my focus to opening my eyes. They lift begrudgingly.

I take in the hospital room, noticing Miles is next to me. He’s leaning back in a chair, eyes closed, brown curls wild. Last time I saw him, he was in teal scrubs. Now he is back in his clothes- a white Adidas sweatshirt and black sweatpants. My body becomes alert when I remember why he was wearing those scrubs. My eyes flick down at my tummy. It looks big and bloated, but feels empty. I try to talk but my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth. No moisture can be felt and I cough at the awareness. Miles startles. When he sees my eyes open, he smiles.

“There she is. Hi baby.” He reaches for my face, cupping my cheeks gently. He sits up completely, leaning forward to kiss my forehead. “Do you need water?” I nod as frantically as I can. It comes out as a shrug. He reaches across my body, moving the bed tray over me. He picks up the tumbler filled with fresh water and ice. He maneuvers the straw up to my mouth so I can suck up a few sips.

“Where is he?” I ask immediately when I can.

“Connor is here.” He says, putting the tumbler back. “He’s amazing.” Miles grins, tears evident in his eyes. “He has been patiently waiting for you… me, not so much.”

“You’ve never been patient a day in your life.”

“Hey.” He chuckles at the truth. “They said you should do skin to skin right when you wake up.” He stands up to unswaddle our son, who startles at the intrusion. His soft wail fills the room. I bite my lip and undo my hospital gown with lethargic, fumbling fingers. “That should be good. I’ll tuck him in.” Miles murmurs, holding our boy up. My lip crumbles into a sob when I see his little body in my husband’s big hands.

“Oh my god.” I cry as Miles slides him into my hospital gown. I weep openly, clutching our newborn to my chest with greedy fingers. I tilt my head down to see his face. “Oh wow, he is a carbon copy of you.” I sob harder. “I’m screwed. I’m going to give him anything he wants.” Miles laughs, leaning down to kiss Connor’s head. His lips then find mine. Our kiss tastes like tears as we make out. I realize they’re mine and his.

“I almost died on the floor of this hospital when they made me leave you.”

“What happened?”

“You were hemorrhaging. They couldn’t get it under control so blood was going internally to other areas. It was bad. I didn’t know what was happening or if you were okay. It was just me and him in here alone.”

“Are you okay?” I ask him, reaching out for his face. My thumb strokes his left cheek, smearing his tear tracks together.

“No.” I nod in understanding, then pull him closer to me. I wince at the pain I feel in my abdomen. Miles puts his hands on me in alarm.

“My incision.” I assure him. “You come closer this time.” He leans down further.

“I love you so much, Kails. So fucking much. I will never let another day pass without telling you 5,000 times.” I chuckle against his mouth.

“Oh good. I’m finally going to get the treatment I deserve. 2,000 a day wasn’t nearly enough.” He puts his forehead next to me on my pillow. One hand comes up to my head, palming my hair, while the other rests on Connor’s back.

“I’m so glad you’re still around to give me shit.” He mumbles into the stuffed fabric.

“That won’t ever go away. When you die first of old age, you’ll feel my sass then too.” I stroke Connor’s bare back under my gown, tilting my chin forward to kiss the hat on top of his head. “Can’t wait until you’re old enough to sass your dad too.”

“Come on, our kid too?”

“Yes. It’s becoming a Wood family tradition to give you shit.” He pulls back, painting strokes across my forehead with his thumb. His eyes work all over my face, drinking me in like if he blinks I might not be there. “I’m okay, baby.” I whisper. His blue eyes close in anguish.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get the calm birth experience you wanted. I wish I could change that.” I shrug, looking down at our baby. Definitely not an ideal situation, but looking at this adorable baby- half me and half him- I would do it all over again. Every part of it.

“No, but look at what we did get. Connor Wood, you are what our world spins around.”

#shot in the dark au #miles wood x oc #miles wood imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fan fiction #hockey writing

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wildlife4life · 10 months ago

Text

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

Tagged by the super fantabulous @bekkachaos (dropped a whole fic, check it out!) @jamespearce9-1-1 @thewolvesof1998 @giddyupbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @hippolotamus @daffi-990 @jesuisici33 and @disasterbuckdiaz. Thank you all so much and I am so very excited for your works!

Feeling a lot better today and I'm in still in a good NFL Buck mood. So here is a little snippet from the Dosed arc, featuring for the first time Buck's perspective. (Everything NFL Buck can be found here.)

After many different un-needed apologies from Eddie about the pollen and several assurances from Buck that Eddie is safe from the tiny ladies made of said pollen, the dosed firefighter finally passes out. Poor man is still in his uniform and is going to have one hell of a hangover when he wakes up. Or at least according to the article Buck speed read after Sergeant Grant stated his boyfriend and the majority of the 118 had been dosed with a hallucinogen. Most likely LSD. Buck lets out a groan of both frustration and weariness. He had just gotten home from the days workout with the team and was getting ready for his cool down when the gates intercom went off. Thinking it was another wayward delivery person who had yet again ignored instructions to leave all packages in the lock box, Buck was taken by complete surprise to see LAPD on the video. And hearing Eddie's desperate cries in the background, threw him for a major loop. Eddie is taken care of for the moment and quick texts to Carla and his sister, insured Christopher would be away until tomorrow afternoon, giving his father time to recover. The last issue at hand, is waiting patiently in Buck's living room. Rolling his shoulders, Buck steps through the arch way, doing his best to ignore the niggle of fear in his gut and to just put on the mask of Evan Buckley, charismatic and cool NFL quarterback. "Seeing that you are alone and a little more at ease, I assume firefighter Diaz is finally settled?" The Sergeant asks sounding truly concerned, but Buck can also see a glint of scrutiny and the mask of charm falters. "Um, yea." Buck answers trying and failing to meet her sharp gaze, feeling as if she could see every little secret he was holding. "Thank you, again for bringing him home and keeping him safe." Ms. Grant shrugs, "Its the job and he's fellow first responder. Plus my husband is becoming quite fond of Diaz, even without knowing him all that well." She catches Buck's wondering eye at that and it freezes him on the spot. "Have to say, finding out Evan Buckley, the LA Ram's shiny new star and hottest NFL bachelor is secretly dating a single father and firefighter from Texas, is the most surprising thing that's happened to me so far this year. And I allowed a delinquent kid out of my custody, to hot wire a concrete mixer to save a man trapped in his burning car." The entirety of the Evan Buckley facade shatters and Buck has to swallow every shard of dread. Shit.

Like Buck could fool Athena. Psssh. Hope you all enjoyed!

PSA: School has officially started for me this week and as I am in a 9 month fast track program, most of my focus will be on my school work, so my writing is going to slow down. But I will find the time.

Tagging (no pressure): @wikiangela @exhuastedpigeon @spotsandsocks @rainbow-nerdss @devirnis @spaceprincessem @fortheloveofbuddie @lover-of-mine @athenagranted @eddiescowboy @evanbegins @elvensorceress @malewifediaz @911onabc @911-on-abc @loserdiaz @hoodie-buck @try-set-me-on-fire @theotherbuckley @ladydorian05 @bigfootsmom @watchyourbuck @thekristen999 @shortsighted-owl @spagheddiediaz @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @eowon @princessfbi @honestlydarkprincess @vampbuckley @bitchfacediaz @buck-coded @housewifebuck @glorious-spoon @buddierights @prosperdemeter2 @gayedmundodiaz @lemonzestywrites

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vodika-vibes · 4 months ago

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Hiiii CONGRATS on 650!!! Can’t wait to see you hit 1000 in like 2 months because you are so amazing!!

Ok can we get a little Enemies to lovers/a lil bit of Romeo and Juliet modern Au with tech?

Could it be something like He and reader are both race car drivers of opposing teams and at first they hate each other but then they fall in love but obviously their teams don’t like that…

Congrats again!! Can’t wait to see what you come up with for this and any other prompts !!🫶🏻

Never Enough

Summary: You’re a motorcycle racer, and you’re pretty good if you say so yourself. Good enough that you make a living doing it. Your biggest rival, Tech, is just as good as you are, if not better in some ways. Your team hates him, and his team hates you. Too bad for them that you love Tech, and he loves you.

Pairing: TBB Tech x F!Reader

Word Count: 1104

Prompt: Enemies to Lovers AU

Warnings: Some adult conversation topics

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Sorry that this took so long, I had an idea, but I wasn't able to write it as I planned, and so I had to scrap the whole story and start fresh this morning. Anyway, I hope you like this!

It’s late.

The sun has long since set, and the moon is slowly making its way across the sky, and the afterparty for your most recent win ended several hours ago.

This means the members of your crew have long since returned to their respective hotels, and you are, finally, alone with your thoughts.

You should get some sleep. It’s been a long day, and tomorrow marks the start of your long journey back home. But you can’t seem to get your mind to settle.

And the reasoning for that? Tech is supposed to come and visit you tonight and you can’t wait.

Once upon a time, you and Tech hated each other. You thought that he was arrogant and pig-headed. He thought that you were careless and reckless. And then one of your sponsors bought out one of his sponsors, and the pair of you were forced to do a photoshoot together.

A photoshoot where you were both shoved into bathing suits and pressed against each other in various poses.

At the end of the photoshoot, Tech kissed you. He said it was an accident, that he didn’t mean to do it. But the next night, he came to your hotel room and kissed you again.

And it kept happening, until, one night, you showed up at his hotel room and asked to spend the night.

It was the start of a whirlwind, and totally secret, relationship.

You scramble to your feet when you hear a knock at the door. It takes you a moment to make sure that your robe is secure, and a moment longer to check who’s outside the door.

And then you pull the door open to greet Tech with a small smile.

He has a bottle of wine in his hand and has two wine glasses hanging from his fingers. “Wine?” You ask as you move to the side to allow him in the room.

His dark gaze slides down your body, and then he steps into the room, “To celebrate your victory, of course.”

You laugh softly, “I only won because you weren’t racing today. You had some bike trouble?”

Tech sets the wine and glasses on the table and sinks onto the couch, “The transport company damaged the bike. It happens, but it is still annoying.”

“Well, that’s what insurance is for, right?” You reply as you walk over to him to sit next to him. A giggle falls from your lips as he tugs you onto his lap and his hands slide under your robe.

“Exactly. But I was able to watch the race,” His deft fingers find the tie to your robe and he tugs it open, “You looked amazing.” Tech’s gaze flickers down to see what you’re wearing under your robe, and he smirks, “Almost as good as you look now.”

“Well, it’s not like I can race in lingerie.” You tease as you allow him to slide the silky material off your shoulders to pool on the floor.

Tech hums as his calloused fingers slide over your ribs, “You could. I would not stop you.”

You shake your head and shift so that you’re straddling him as you wrap your arms around his neck, “Silly man, that’s not safe.” You whisper against his lips.

“Would be hot though,” He murmurs in reply as he catches your lips with his own.

You kiss him back deeply, your fingers moving to slide through his hair, “And you would be okay with that? Everyone and their cousin seeing me in my lingerie?”

Tech pauses and pulls back so he’s able to look at you properly, a small smirk lifting the corner of his lips, “Why not? You are mine, after all.”

“Possessive.” There’s no heat in your words because you know that Tech isn’t like that, not really.

“Sure, something like that.” He pulls you into another kiss, one of his hands settling on the back of your neck to hold you against him, and then his lips trail to your throat. “So,” He murmurs against your skin, “I was thinking.”

“Oh?”

“How would you feel about combining our teams?”

You comb your fingers through his hair as you consider his question, “My sister hates your brothers.”

“Your sister wants to drag Hunter into a storage closet and ride him until neither of them can think straight.” Tech corrects.

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive, darling.”

He chuckles, and pulls away to look up at you, “I hate that we spend so little time together,” Tech admits quietly, “I hate that there are races you go to where I am not invited, and vice versa.”

You’re quiet for a moment and then you sigh, “This is about the Beach race, isn’t it.”

“You crashed. You could have died. You should have died.”

“I’m fine.”

His hand moves to press against the scar that you got from that crash. He’s not wrong, when you crashed a piece of rebar pierced your side and nearly killed you. You got a very nice settlement from the race organizers who didn’t make sure that there were no hazards like that around the race, but it doesn’t change that you’re only alive because of the hard work of your surgeons.

“You’re fine now. What if it happens again?”

“You’re not asking me to give up racing?”

“I would never. All I want is to be there if it happens again.”

You’re quiet for a moment, thinking through his proposition, “I would like that.” You finally admit, “You being there for all of my races, and me being there for all of your races, would be better than having to watch the race on tv.”

“Exactly.”

“Plus,” You add quietly, “We’re pretty serious about each other, so this was going to happen eventually.”

“We are a little more than pretty serious, cyare.” Tech points out.

You lightly trail your fingers down his cheek, a small smile on your face, “Did you ever expect that we would be like this?”

He chuckles, “Never.” Tech pulls you into a kiss and then stands to carry you over to the bed, “But, I am very glad to be wrong.” You squeal as he drops you on the bed and then climbs over you and catches your lips with his one more time, “Congratulations on your win,” He breathes out, “Let me give you your reward.”

You know that this conversation isn’t over, you and Tech still have a lot of details you need to work out, but for now, you can put that to the side in favor of enjoying Tech and letting Tech enjoy you.

#star wars #tbb #star wars au #vodika-vibes 650 event #tbb tech x reader #tech x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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falcqns · 11 months ago

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you'll be alright (no one can hurt you now) chapter one

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Lucy Chen & Tamara Colins, Tim Bradford & Lucy Chen, background Tim Bradford x Lucy Chen

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Lucy finds Tamara, not as a 17 year old, but as a newborn. She immediately takes her in, and vows to give her the childhood and support that she deserves.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: canon divergence, autistic!Tamara, Tim Bradford would do anything for Lucy Chen, mentions of drug overdose, and drug addiction, death (not a main character though dw), Lucy is a hardcore swiftie,

don’t forget to read and reblog, and i do not give permission for my works to be posted anywhere other than tumblr. thank you.

Title is from Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift

Lucy stood on the side walk, hands on her duty belt, and eyes on her current training officer, Scott Wrigley as he asked the woman they had just pulled over to see her licence, registration and proof of insurance. The woman willingly, gave him the documents, and Lucy found her attention wandering away from the woman in the car, and surveying the area they were in.

Lucy, truthfully, was bored. While Tim was hard on her, he was a good, solid cop, that did the job because he wanted to make a difference in the world. Wrigley, while also a good, solid cop, was only there for a pay check. He was there to write tickets for 12 hours a day, get paid, and go home to his children without a scrape on him. And while Lucy respected that, it just wasn’t for her. She wanted to make a difference, and sitting here, taking only the tame calls, was not doing that. She knew she just had to stick it out for a little longer, and Tim would be back, but she was starting to think she was going crazy.

So crazy that she was now having auditory hallucinations. Auditory hallucinations of a baby crying.

They were in the middle of nowhere, which was rare in Los Angeles. All that was here was empty, and long abandoned warehouses. There was no reason for a baby’s cry to be heard around here. Lucy shook her head, trying to get the noise to stop, and focus back on her temporary TO.

“You hear that, Chen?” Wrigley asked, stopping as he was walking back to the car.

“Hear what, sir?” She responded, expecting him to say something dumb like ‘the silence of a calm day,’ or something like that, just to unintentionally rub it in her face that she was bored out of her fucking mind with him.

“The baby crying,” he said, and Lucy stopped. He could hear it too? She thought to herself. If he could hear it too, that meant one of two things. 1) they were both going insane, or 2) the baby’s cry that she was hearing was from an actual baby. And she knew which one was more likely than the other.

“Yes sir, I do.” She said, looking around. “Do you want me to go find where the baby’s cry is coming from?”

Wrigley furrowed his eyebrows. “Why would we do that?” He questioned.

“Isn’t…that why you mentioned it?” She asked, thoroughly confused. “Look where we are. All that is here is empty and abandoned warehouses, why would we be hearing a baby cry here? We should be making sure that everything is okay before we leave.”

Wrigely smirked at her. “Good job, Chen.” He said, and Lucy dug her nails into her palm to stop her from rolling her eyes. He was testing her. “Go check it out while I fill out this paperwork.” She nodded, and headed off in the direction that she heard the cry.

The cry was growing louder as she turned the corner, ending up in an alleyway between two abandoned warehouses, covered in graffiti. She continued to follow the cry as she approached a dumpster. Her stomach was in knots. Surely if it was a parent and their baby, she would have heard the parents voice, right? Surely no one would have left their defenceless and helpless infant to fend for themselves, right?

Wrong.

Lucy walked to the other side of the dumpster, and she gasped, her heart pounding. On the ground, beside the dumpster, was a baby, who couldn’t be older than a few hours old, judging by the umbilical cord still attached, and how the baby, who upon closer inspection was a girl, was haphazardly wiped off and placed in a broken wicker basket.

Next to her, was very obviously her mother. There was a pool of blood covering her upper thighs and the ground underneath her, and used needles spread around the scene, including one still stuck in her upper arm. Lucy grabbed her radio, and pressed down.

“Control, this is 7-Adam-19 requesting an RA and a supervisor at Cromer Lane, in the first alleyway on the left, I have a 10-50, code 3.” Lucy placed her radio back, and crouched down next to the baby, doing her best to comfort the little girl without picking her up, despite how much Lucy wanted to.

“It’s okay, sweet girl,” She whispered, reaching into her duty belt for a pair of gloves. She slid them on her hands, and reached over to the baby’s mother in order to try and see if she could feel a pulse. Her heart broke for the sobbing baby girl when she couldn’t feel one.

She heard sirens in the background, as well as boots hitting the ground, clearly Wrigley running to see what was happening after hearing her call on the radio.

“Oh my god.” He whispered from behind her.

“I need something to wrap the baby in,” She said to Wrigley, and he started to retreat, mumbling something about grabbing an emergency blanket from the shop.

He returned less than a minute later, and Lucy grabbed the package from him, ripping it open. She shook the blanket to get it to unfold, before she wrapped the small infant up, holding her close to her chest, hoping some of her body heat would transfer through the blanket.

The sirens got closer, and Lucy began to see the flashing lights reflected on the brick wall across from her. Wrigley was talking to her, but she wasn’t hearing or processing anything coming out of his mouth. All that she could focus on was the tiny little baby in her arms, who was calmed down, and was just staring up at her, her small brown eyes looking up into Lucy’s.

“It’s gonna be okay,” She whispered. “You’re gonna be okay.” She heard the doors of the ambulance open behind her and paramedics rush to her side. A female paramedic crouched down next to her, and began to ask her questions about the baby and her mother.

“She seems to be okay, physically at least.” Lucy rambled, her eyes not leaving the tiny baby. “She can’t be more than a few hours old.”

The paramedic nodded. “Judging by the shaking, I’m assuming her mother was using her entire pregnancy.” Lucy nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She watched carefully as the paramedics cut the umbilical cord, and then continued working on trying to resuscitate her mother, with no success.

They gave her 2 doses of Narcan, did CPR, and tried the AED, but nothing worked. She was gone, and had probably been gone since before Lucy and Wrigley arrived on scene.

“We have to take her to the hospital,” The paramedic beside Lucy stated, standing up. Lucy did the same, as Grey and Wrigely walked up to her.

“I’m coming with,” she stated.

“Boot-“ Wrigley replied, clearly frustrated with how hard headed she was being.

“I’m going.” She stated, firmer. She then turned to Grey, and looked at him for approval. He nodded at her, a smile on his face.

“Go with her, Chen.” He said. “Let us know if theres any updates.”

Lucy smiled. “Yes, sir.” She said, before following the paramedic, and climbing in the back of the ambulance. They were pulling away a few moments later, and were headed to St Stephens.

Lucy was able to stay with the baby until they reached the NICU. She was then told that they needed to do an assessment on the infant, but that someone would come and grab Lucy when she was able to go see her. She sat down in the uncomfortable hospital waiting room chair, and glanced around at the other families in the NICU. She didn’t know any of their stories, but they all had one thing in common; they were here because they wanted their baby to be okay.

And while that tiny little baby wasn’t Lucy’s, Lucy was the one who found her, who called for help, who held her and comforted her when she needed it the most. She had no one at the moment, so there was nowhere else Lucy would rather be than here, supporting this little girl.

“Officer Chen?” A voice said to the right of her. She looked up, and stood up when she saw the doctor.

“Yes?” She said, coming face to face with the nurse in charge of the infant. “Is she going to be okay?”

The nurse smiled. “She is very lucky, officer.” Lucy let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding at that. “She is very healthy. She does have traces of meth in her blood, but it is a very minuscule amount. It should leave her system within the next 8 to 24 hours.”

Lucy nodded. “Okay. Thats good. I was thinking the worst.”

The nurse nodded. “She is a very lucky little girl. I have contacted DCFS, and they are going to send someone as soon as they can, it appears that they are very backed up at the moment. Is there anything you need from me?”

“Uh,” Lucy stuttered, racking her brain for the protocols to follow in this situation. “No, not right now. I will have to wait for my supervisor or training officer to proceed, but in the meantime, am I able to go sit with her?”

The nurse nodded, and began to turn. “Of course, follow me and I’ll take you to her.” Lucy began to follow the nurse down the hallway. “Actually,” the nurse said. “Would you be up to kangaroo cuddling with her? Being so young, she definitely hasn’t had skin to skin with anyone, and skin to skin is very beneficial to an infant as young as her.”

Lucy found herself nodding immediately. “Of course, whatever she needs.” Lucy trailed after the nurse into the dark and quiet NICU room, glancing at the two other bassinets in the room, each with what she presumed to be family around them, either gazing into the bassinet, or holding their baby. Lucy’s eyes met the bassinet holding the baby she had found, and her heart broke seeing the infants tiny body with wires and tubes coming out of her body, even though she had much less equipment than the other two infants in the room.

“She’s so small,” Lucy whispered, looking into the bassinet.

“She’s actually the biggest baby on the ward at the moment.” The nurse said, pointing to the chair for Lucy to sit in.

“So she was full term then?” Lucy said as she laid her duty belt on the table next to her, and unbuttoning her uniform shirt.

The nurse nodded. “Yes, she was. And perfectly healthy, other than the meth in her system, which is surprising. It seems that her mother did try to abstain from drug use while pregnant, but she most likely slipped up towards the end.”

“Wow.” Lucy said, taking off her white undershirt and laying it on top of her uniform shirt. “That’s not something I see too often.”

“Me either,” The nurse agreed, as she lifted up the infant and tucked her legs up, bringing her over to Lucy. Lucy opened her arms, and let the nurse rest the baby on her chest. Lucy immediately wrapped her arms around the baby, cuddling her as close as she could without hurting her. The nurse then laid a light pink blanket over the two of them with a smile.

“If you need anything, just press the nurses button, and someone will come and check on you. And I will come and get you as soon as DCFS or your superiors show up.”

Lucy nodded, her eyes not leaving the baby. “Thank you.” The nurse nodded, and headed out of the room. Lucy slowly began rocking back and forth in the chair, looking intently at the baby, who was wiggling around, head bobbing up and down on Lucy’s chest as she tried to get comfortable.

Once the baby found a comfortable position, she opened her tiny mouth in a big yawn, and shut her eyes, falling asleep within seconds on Lucy’s warm skin. Lucy chuckled quietly, and began rubbing her hand up and down on her back, letting her get some well deserved sleep.

After a few minutes of silence, there was a crash in the hallway from a cart crashing into a wall, and the baby jolted awake, before bursting into tears. Lucy immediately sat up, and hushed the baby in her arms.

“You’re okay, sweet girl,” she whispered. “I know, that was loud, huh?” The baby hiccuped, and her tears slowly began to stop. Her eyes were open, and Lucy smiled. “It’s okay.” She continued speaking to the infant. “You’re safe with me.” She leant down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

The baby yawned again, and Lucy smiled at her, cupping the back of her head, rubbing her thumb back and forth against her soft skin.

“I remember tears streaming down your face when I said I’ll never let you go,” Lucy began to sing, her eyes not leaving the baby. “When all those shadows almost killed your light, I remember you said don’t leave me here alone.

“But all that’s dead and gone and passed tonight,” The baby didn’t move, just continued to stare up at Lucy as she sang. “Just close your eyes, the sun is going down. You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now.”

A lump formed in Lucy’s throat as she gazed down at the infant in her arms. She couldn’t understand how lucky she was that Lucy was near the warehouse when she was. Despite being in Los Angeles, it was still December, and the temperature plummeted at night time, and had she been out there a few more hours, she would have died.

And now, this tiny, defenceless orphan, who’s life only started today, had no one. Had no mother, more than likely no father, and she was about to go into the foster care system if DCFS couldn’t find a next of kin within a few days. And what made it worse, was how Lucy was already dreading putting her down. She didn’t want to put this baby down. She wanted to keep holding this little girl. She wanted to take her home, love her, protect her, and raise her.

She took a deep breath as the baby’s eyes fluttered shut, and fell back into a peaceful sleep. She thought about offering to take her in, at least until DCFS found next of kin for her, if they were able to at all. She could, she was an emergency foster parent, and had been since she turned 20. She had an apartment in a safe part of the city, and made more than enough money to support the two of them.

“You’re gonna be okay,” she said to the baby. “You’re gonna come home with me, and I’m going to keep you safe. I promise.”

#natashasera #chenford #tim bradford #lucy chen #tim bradford x lucy chen #chenford fanfic #the rookie fanfiction #tamara colins fanfiction #melissa oneil #eric winter #dylan conrique

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misguidedasgardian · 5 months ago

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From the Ashes (I)

I. Back in the saddle

MASTERLIST

Summary: It’s been a while since you had all been together

Warnings: Supernatural (and all that comes with it), monsters of all kinds, pyrokinesis, cursing, murder, smokin' people, impersonating of law enforcers, guns, might miss some warnings

Wordcount: 2,9 k

Notes: I re-wrote the first one, it was riddled with mistakes, like for real… I was so excited to post it that I didn’t even check it, it has minor checks, the plot remains the exact same, only that I wrote it in parts, I had this trope since 2021, and I just… felt happy enough to post it, so, a rocky start, but here we are. Anyways, like I say, I’ll try to keep dates organized, but aside from that… i’m taking a free script to write this.

2003, Manning, Colorado

Much more vampires that they ever thought they would be.

John got a message from his friend Daniel Elkins, when he finally got to him… he was dead, and those who had killed them… well… let’s just say their track was very fresh

So being hunters, that is what they did, they tracked and found the nest, followed them back, for vengeance, and for the gun.

Dean was excited, he had never hunted vampires before.

He didn’t know why though, he had hunted all kinds of monsters and creatures, but never vampires.

Why was that?

They never thought they’d be outnumbered so greatly, they entered the nest at daylight, when it was going to be easier to… chop their heads off

It was easy for John and Dean to figure out their hierarchy, the leader was gone, so they took the second best thing as an insurance, his mate.

Threatening her with a long blade to the neck, they exited the shed where they were hiding at, and “nesting”, the move was desperate, because they were, they needed the gun, and they needed to avenge John’s friend, that made them clumsy, too clumsy.

At the meeting point, there was more, oh more vampires

“Wheres Kate?”, asked Luther, the leader of that family. He had not come here to play, and neither were the Winchesters. John grabbed her from the copilot’s seat, she was tied by a rope, cuts on her body, infecting her with dead man’s blood

“Got the colt?”, asked John, dangling the vamp in front of her mate

Soon, the situation turned tense

“Don’t hurt her again”, growled Luther.

But Dean was in his macho stance again, slipping his knife over her collarbone, making her scream and hiss

“Ups, sorry”, mocked Dean, and Luther did not take this well.

Vampires were faster than he expected, soon Luther punched Dean in the face, sending him flying, falling over the gravel.

“Dean!”, he was going to go to him, to his son, but now, the vamp had slipped free, and he stood alone in front of five vampires

He put his machete up.

Luthor came running towards him, ready to mangle the man to pieces, now, only one group could come out alive, but not both.

“I didn't want to do this!”, he assured him, as they both struggle hand on hand

“What? feeding on innocent people?”, mocked John, Luther overpowered him quickly, throwing him back, him falling against his car, “you killed my friend!”

“He was hardly innocent, he killed many of us before”, he said simply, he was going to give him the gun and walk away, but now that Kate was safe again, he… thought again. Killing two hunters can be very beneficial to their survival.

He lunged at the oldest Winchester again, John grabbed his gun and shot them with silver bullets, but it didn’t stop him. Luther grabbed him by his jacket, and then by the neck

“You are not even worth to feed on”, the vampire muttered, “I’m just gonna, snap your neck”, John looked back at Dean, who was being beaten by three vampires, two grabbing onto him and Kate beating him up real nice

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you”, you grabbed onto his arm, twisting it off of John’s neck. The vampire looked back at you, surprise in his eyes

“What!?”, you threw him back tenfold as he did John, making fall pathetically on the gravel

John didn’t even take time to greet you, grabbing the machete and decapitating the one that was holding Dean, the other jumped away from you, gathering right in front of you, as you stood in front of the boys and towards the vampires. It was kind of a cool battle of some sorts.

“How fast are these things?”, you asked out loud, one of them showed you their teeth in a hiss, clearly offended by the “thing” part, she throw herself at you, with incredibly speed, for a human, you grabbed her by the neck, her arms trying to scratch you, “not very, apparently”, you said, you always wondered if you could smoke one of these things.

You felt it, the heat, coming from your chest and into your hand, she screeched, and, as others did before her, she burned, turning into ashes in your hand in barely seconds.

You dropped the skeleton and the dust, and then you looked in front of you, at the rest of the vampires who looked at the scene, completely terrified

Luther showed you his hands in surrender, grabbing on his jacket, the colt

“Leave it there”, asked John, and he did, leaving it slowly on the ground. You looked back at John, who seemed to be analyzing the situation at hand. He had never let you hunt vampires before, you had a clue why.

“How you have grown”, said Luther, you frowned, he still had his hands raised, “if it’s all the same to you… we’ll be going now”, he turned walking back to his car, thinking this was over, oh how wrong this was.

Soon you were in front of him, he didn’t even get to gasp, as you were frying him up real good

“You bitch!”, screamed Kate, but is the last thing she said as Dean chopped her head off with one swift sing of his own machete.

You burned up one more while John and Dean finished off the last two, and… that was it.

“(y/n)”, you turned around to meet Dean, who was smiling at you. He wiped the blood of his face with a big grin

“Hey boys, long time no see”, you said with a wide smile, John wiped his mouth, sweat and blood with his sleeve, and then smiled

“Took you long enough”, he said. You only sighed, the day John Winchester was thankful it’ll be the day the world ends

“Where have you been?”, asked Dean, you only looked down at the fried skeletons

“Time to chat will be later”, said John, all business like always, “after we clean this mess”, he said severely, and you discovered how easy it was… to come back, and fall back in line under John Winchester’s command

you digged a shallow grave in the woods and you burned the rest of the corpses, and then you buried them, to make sure nobody would find them

It was always comical how the only thing it remained was the metal in their bodies, and since vampires were always leaning towards gothic… they were a lot of piercings on the ground

“I don’t even wanna know where this went”, said Dean… grabbing onto a large one.

“That is where Luther was”, you laughed, only imagining where he had that piercing, Dean hissed and dropped it to the ground, disgusted

“Grow up”, growled John as he dragged the last one, “you are in for a big time darling”, he said severely

Well, you left, and then Sam did, he wasn’t happy, at least you didn’t have such a responsibility towards him like his sons did, he understood you were looking for answers… but still…

24 hours earlier

Many, many things - and years- had occurred since John Winchester saved you from those Vampires, and protected you.

What led to his discovery of your nature… had been his own, and since then, you were discovering yourself, what you were, and what that meant, because, you barely remembered your mother, you didn’t know where you came from, you didn’t know the extent of what being a phoenix entailed, and…

There is so many things you didn’t know

You tried looking for answers, when you were old enough… but the questions piled up and remained unanswered. Between hunts you read what you found, and with the help of JOhn’s numerous friends, but the information kept repeating, and also… it kept being wrong, some said you ate human flesh, which you didn’t, others, that you were a big red and gold bird, which you weren’t… Some said that you could die but would come back from the ashes, and again. There was no such thing.

So, when you thought the boys were going to be fine, and you were old enough to get a passport, you traveled, for two years, far and wide, and still, you couldn’t find another Phoenix, you couldn’t find anything but legends and things you already knew… no matter who you spoke to…

And then, as you were traveling through Shanghai, you realized… you were looking for what you already had… You were looking for answers, about what you were, but secretly, you also wanted to find… a family, you were yearning for it, someone who understands you, someone to guide you… and you didn’t find it.

So maybe it was time for you to come home, because you did have one… they were only boys, men, actually, wore flannels and leather jackets and combat boots, and they were rough sons of bitches, you smiled as you grabbed an old book in mythology that was going to allow you to comprehend some marks in the great wall for later on your trip. As tourists were claiming they saw soldiers in its battlements and you wanted to check that out.

That is until… you got a text from Bobby.

Present

“I never understood why you never let me fight them”, you said to John, as you took a sip of a beer in the local bar.

“What brings you back?”, he asked, not answering

“Bobby texted me, said he hasn’t heard from you in a while that you were tracking vampires, i guess… I just only needed one sign and that is all it took”, Dean looked at his father, “so you are back for good?”

“If you’ll have me”, you teased with a smile, “is good to be back”

“Well, can’t say you are not appreciated”, he said lightly. He kept looking at you, concerned washing over his features.

It was weird, to see them and not see Sam right by their side, but you couldn’t blame him, you were actually happy, if not proud of him for following his dreams.

“Those were so sweet moves out there”, said Dean, actually, the mood between the three of you had grown a bit tense

“Thanks, and, don’t think I have been slacking for the past two years, you know?”, you said with a renewed spirit, “you’d think that if you don’t look for it, you could live a normal life, ut no, since I was deep in research, I kept getting myself in all the supernatural, all over Europe and Asia”, you said, “and actually…”

“It’s late”, John cut you, “I’m gonna go”

“Dad”, Dean said

“I’ll wait for the two of you back in the room”, he said and left, you shared concerned looks with Dean

“Did I break the old man’s heart?”, you asked

“He was fine after you left, he understood it, but what really cracked him was Sam’s leavin’ you know?”, he said

“How have things been?”, you asked back. it was sad, you know, you had giving them a really expensive phone you had gotten for yourself, they could call you at any minute… but they never did, you even tried to reach out, to receive nothing, the only ones you kept in contact with were Bobby, Pastor Jim and Sammy

“Tense”, he said, sipping on his beer, Dean had never been a one to talk about his feelings very well, you also could understood that

“I’m sorry if I hurt you for leaving”

“Two years”, he said, looking back at you, you had missed those green eyes, you’d have to admit

“I know Dean, each time I wanted to end it, I just, found a little something that kept me from coming back, but I still don’t know more than when I left”, you said shortly

“So it was all for nothing”, he said, angrier

“I wouldn’t say that, I met people from all over the world, I saved them too, I know things now, more things, you wouldn’t believe! and I… well… scratched my itch”

“Good for you then”, he said. And you knew then, it was not going to be as easy as you thought, could you ever? be back to what you were before you left?, “but… that guy Luther”

“Vampire”, you corrected

“He said to you “how you’ve grown” and you didn’t think about asking him what he knew?”, he asked, not convinced

“No”, you said simply. He called your name, concerned, “I know what you are thinking Dean”, you said, “I will not let Vampire tell me my history”

“There is clearly a connection”, he said

“I don’t care”, you said back

“You don’t care finding the monsters that wasted your mother?”, he said

“I see what vengeance can do to people”, you said severely, “and whatever they did, they managed to waste someone just like me, so no, I really don’t want to know what those bastards can do”

“But tonight you faced them right off”, he said. You looked at him like he was the dumbest person in the room

“That’s because you were in danger”, you said, like it was obvious, “and I proved my point…I had never encountered Vampires before”, you said simply, “they are kind of pathetic really”

“So?”

“So nothing Dean, drop it”, you said, and he nodded. You had to change the subject, quickly, “Can I… hang around with you guys?”, you asked

“Of course, and dad will… get over it, he did say he’ll see both of us back in the room, just like old times”, you smiled widely. “Good thing winter is coming, you are my favorite heater in those cold nights”, you snorted a loud laugh

“It’s good to be back”

“Right back at ya’ love”, he said with a cheeky smile

As the beer started heating your body from the inside out, you thought bitterly of how… you had eternity to travel the world, but you had like forty years to be with this guys, and you were going to take advantage of it, to the maximum

You were supposed to get back to the hotel, and to John’s good graces, but you couldn’t help but… getting so wasted you and Dean ended up dancing over the table having singles thrown at you like you were working the joint.

The discussion of “if there would be a pole down there would have become millionaires” is what woke John up at three in the morning and he was furious. He gave you the entire speech, of how a victory couldn’t allow us to lower our guards and that he had already had a lead, that his friends were in danger, whatever.

He made you both sit on the back seat of the Impala, like when you were kids.

“Is this really necessary?”, you asked, bored

“You two smell like you brought the bar with you”, he said, “and yes”

“Hey, do you know… where’s my car?”, you asked

“You gave it to Sammy!”, Dean growled, clearly still upset

“Oh, so he took him with him?”, you could tell that Sam was a sore subject for the two of them, “dammit”

“Cuddly Sam, you only gave it to him because he was the only one who didn’t have one”, said Dean angrily

“Well, you had the Impala, and I was leaving, didn’t want to leave it alone!”

“It’s a car!”, growled Dean

“Oh yeah, sure, you’d leave Baby alone”, you mocked back, and he kept quiet, of course he wouldn’t

You didn't notice John smiling at the rearview mirror

Its like no time had passed at all

“So… what are we hunting now?”, you asked excitedly, applauding excitedly

“Ghost”

“No!”, you whined, “I hate ghosts”

“Only because you can’t smoke ‘em”, mocked Dean

“Of course!”, you said back, “they are annoying”. You laughed, “It took me a week to get rid of a ghost, because I don’t speak Greek. Do you know how long it took me to get rid of a shapeshifter? 12 hours!”, you kept rambling

“Where did you encounter the shapeshifter?”, asked Dean, you got quiet

“I knew it was too good to be true when Christian Bale approached in that joint, in my defense, it was close to Notting Hill”, you said after a sigh, Dean chuckled

“A classic”, he muttered

“Oh come on, I remember the shapeshifter you let your guard down for”, you bit back

“Right! well my testosterone was all over the place”, he defended, “and, while you were gone, we encountered a Kitsune”

“NO!”, you said, outraged, “you promised!”

“Well, what can I say? we did”, he mocked back

“Oh! I can’t believe I missed that!”, you said, angry

“Don’t you worry, you will be there for the next ones”, Dean passed an arm over your shoulders and pulled you towards him, “Can I gunshot now?”, he asked his dad, you pushed him away

“You bastard”, you hissed

“Hey!”

“Knock it off!”, growled John, quickly growing tired of it. But it was good to have you back.

taglist! @deans-spinster-witch

#misguidedspn #john winchester #dean winchester #sam winchester #sam and dean #spn #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #john winchester x you #john winchester x reader

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