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zepskies · 2 months ago

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Lesson Learned

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader

Summary: There’s only so much teasing Ben is willing to take. He has no choice but to punish you.

AN: Here we go! lol. This is the highly requested Part 2 to This One’s For You, over in the BMD-verse!

Word Count: 2.2K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, edging, teasing, fluff, and feels.

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

You gasped, your nails raking through his hair. Your grip threatened to rip out a few strands as you panted into his neck.

“Ben, please…for God’s sake…”

“Please what?” he said. There was grit in his voice when he spoke into your ear, but he was all too controlled. Taunting.

Asshole.

He was relentless, dragging his fingers inside your quivering pussy, rubbing his thumb around your clit, but almost never where you wanted him. Your thighs were shaking on either side of his frame as he had you naked on your back, writhing in the middle of your shared bed. You’d sucked him off until his spine rattled and his eyes nearly crossed, swallowing up as much as you could of what he had to give.

Still, he wasn’t satisfied.

“I’m sorry!” you burst in frustration, but you also had to stifle your laughter. Your husband narrowed his eyes at you, spying the hint of your smile.

“How come I don’t fucking believe you?” said Ben. With his elbow digging into the bed beside your shoulder, his occupied fingers curled inside you, finally brushing against the sensitive ridge of your inner walls. It drew a faltering moan from your lips.

“What exactly are you sorry for?” he demanded. He bowed his head and laid a biting kiss along your throat. “Use your fucking words.”

You exhaled roughly, gripping his hair tight again. Now that he couldn’t see your face, you could allow yourself to grin in amusement.

Three Days Ago…

Ben was tired and more irritable than usual when he stepped into the Flatiron Building. The night before had been a battle of wills between him and his infant daughter, who’d been finnicky, having a hard time going back to sleep. He’d done his best to help her get back to sleep, since you had been dead to the world and unable to leave the bed (or so you’d seemed).

Now, he took the elevator up to the right floor and used his key to get into the office suite, where Butcher and the rest of your delinquent friends were already dicking around.

Some horrible French rap was playing on the Bluetooth speaker. Kimiko was flicking tiny pieces of paper across the dining table, into a “goal” made by Hughie’s hands. Frenchie wore a “Kiss the Cook” apron as he pulled a fresh batch of croissants out of the oven in the kitchenette, while M.M. swept the excess flour stains off the counter.

Annie was trying to get Butcher to smoke his cigarette out on the balcony.

“Really, you had fucking cancer. You’d think you’d try a little harder to take care of yourself,” she said. Butcher gave her a wan smile, and blew a coil of smoke upward between them.

“Nice,” she said flatly.

But all that stopped when Ben strode into the room. They stared at him, each starting to smile, no matter how much some of them tried to hide it (like Kimiko, with a hand over her mouth).

“What the fuck’re you staring at?” Ben snapped. “We got a job, right?”

Butcher cleared his throat and recovered first. He dabbed his cigarette on an ashtray on the dining table and grabbed an iPad to give to the supe.

“Yeah, got us an escapee. Our little slumlord, Sapphire,” he said.

Ben frowned. Sapphire was the supe who nearly vaporized you a couple of years ago, after they broke up her drug ring. While he read the file documenting detailing her escape and what the CIA knew of her whereabouts so far, Hughie shared a look with Kimiko and Annie before he spoke.

“So, uh, how’s Lila doing?”

Ben shot him a look through furrowed brows.

“Fine. She’s with her mother,” he replied. Hughie predictably asked about you, and again, Ben said you were fine at home with the baby.

“Lila’s almost a year old, right?” Hughie asked. “Aw man, that’s gotta be a fun age, right? I mean, fun, but challenging. All the crying, the diaper changing. Getting her to sleep through the night must be tough.”

Ben’s attention piqued at that, and not in a good way. His dark suspicion grew when his gaze flicked up to Hughie’s dumb fucking face, and then the rest of them, with their dumbass smiles. Biting her lip to stop herself from smiling, Annie pressed a button on her phone.

All of a sudden, Ben heard his own voice playing from the speaker.

“H-Hey there, Delilah, what’s it like in New York City?”

“Now ain’t that a lovely warble,” Butcher remarked. Ben shot him a warning glare, but the Brit raised his hands in amused surrender. He crossed his arms and continued to smoke as he watched the scene unfold.

Ben tossed the iPad onto the kitchen counter and strode over to Annie with menacing steps, intending to put an end to this bullshit. She grinned and tossed her phone over to Kimiko, and Ben glowered, changing directions.

“I'm a thousand miles away, but girl, tonight you look so pretty. Yes, you do. Time Square can’t shine as bright as you…I swear it’s true.”

Kimiko’s eyes widened at the angry supe heading toward her. She tossed the phone to Frenchie next. The phone bounced between his flour-stained hands as he yelped in surprise.

“Oh, shit,” he uttered, when Ben began stomping his way.

“Hey there, Delilah, don't you worry about the distance. I'm right there if you get lonely. Give this song another listen…”

“A voice like warm butter,” Frenchie praised. He quickly tried to move from side to side to evade his attacker. “You should be proud, Monsiuer Grincheux! A man soothing his baby is a beautiful thing.”

“Shut your fucking cockhole,” Ben gritted out, but he still reached out when the phone sailed under his arm—only to land in M.M.’s hands. He froze with widened eyes, not wanting to be in the game. But it was too late, for him and Ben.

“Hey there, Delilah, here’s to you,” his voice sang, more quietly, more tender, deep and baritone. “This one’s for you…”

A brief pause. And then—

“What the fuck’re you doing?”

M.M. managed to pause the video. A beat of utter silence, and then...

Everyone burst out into laughter. Hughie started it; he was damn near folded in half, leaning heavily on his girlfriend as he wiped a tear out of his eye. M.M. tossed the phone back to Frenchie, whose entire frame was shaking with restrained glee.

Ben’s jaw worked as he contemplated how exactly he was going to kill every one of these cocksucking morons.

And then you. Because how else had they gotten that video? You had to have sent it somehow before he got ahold of you last night.

“All right, enough!” he bellowed.

The entire room fell silent.

“First of all, erase that shit right now, or it’s coming out your ass,” he barked, pointing at Frenchie. The other man jolted and did as he was told.

“As for the rest of you, I better not hear another fucking word about this, or so help me Christ, I’m gonna do some barbecuing.”

About three days later, Sapphire had been caught and re-imprisoned, and Ben returned home. He found you in the living room. He was taciturn to your happy smile when you welcomed him with a hug around his waist, though your smile fell after he didn’t respond to your kiss.

He slowly lowered his gaze down to you, and you knew.

Biting your lip, you soothed a hand along his cheek. “So, how’d it go?”

“Fine,” he said, but little else.

In fact, Ben didn’t speak to you for most of the evening. You tried cooking him a good hot meal, but he barely said two words to you. The only thing he did, before he was even showered and changed, was venture into the nursery to lay a gentle hand on his daughter’s head as she slept, over her downy brown hair. He bent down to press a kiss to her forehead.

After that, he strode past you in the doorway and slammed the door shut in the bathroom.

Aw shit. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help chortling with laughter. You should’ve known he’d be a great big man child about this.

So you decided to call your mom and see if she could take Lila for the night.

You had some damage control to do.

Now…

He'd brought you to the edge of your pleasure three times before he withdrew his mouth or his hand from your body, not letting you touch yourself, not letting you come—driving you to the point of frustrated tears.

You grabbed his head with both hands and guided him to look you in the eyes.

“Baby, please. Stop torturing me,” you pleaded. You used every tool in your arsenal to make him break, giving him soft, tearful eyes. You leaned up and pressed gentle kisses to his cheek, his chin, the corner of his mouth, and finally his lips.

“I need you,” you whispered, drawing him into deeper, messier kisses. Part of him started to falter. He briefly closed his eyes and breathed into your kiss.

But then, he stubbornly broke from you with a frown.

“Nice try. You’re not getting off that easy,” he said. “Now say it. Why the fuck are you sorry?”

You huffed in aggravation, but you twined your arms around his neck and brushed slightly sweaty strands of his hair away from his forehead.

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you,” you said, even though your mouth began to curve upward. “It was a sweet thing you did, and I’m glad I captured it. But I am sorry that sharing that moment with our friends bothers you so much.”

“First of all, they’re your idiot friends,” he said. You wanted to interject on that one, but you knew he wasn’t in the mood, and you didn’t want to fight with him for real.

“Second of all,” he began…but he didn’t have any more words after that. They were caught between his irritation, and his unwillingness to even voice what it was he felt. Eventually, he found them.

“There’s some shit that needs to stay between us,” he said.

You smiled, but you mercifully drew him down for another slow kiss.

“Okay, okay. I hear you. It’s not that big a deal though. You love your family, and look! Your macho-ness is still very much intact,” you said, gesturing at his very much hard cock pressing against your thigh. “Now are you gonna fuck me like a man, or do I need to find a vibrator that will?”

At that Ben looked down at you with a raise of his brows. His lips twitched, mostly at your audacity. Shaking his head, he slid a hand behind your neck and drew you in for a kiss, fueled by passion and frustration in equal measure.

You wrapped your thighs around his hips, urging him closer. His straining length pressed against your center, the wet tip slipping against your glistening folds. He groaned at the sensation.

“Please,” you repeated, licking into his mouth for a sensuous kiss.

The once-iron grip on his restraint finally broke. Ben slid a hand between you to hold himself to your entrance. With one smooth thrust, his cock buried deep inside you. Your moan of relief echoed his own. If nothing else good came out of this situation, you two hadn’t had the time or the energy to go at it like this in a long time.

He grabbed your thigh and angled you higher, so he could sink in at an even better angle as he began to rut into you.

With all of his earlier edging and teasing, you were already so close. Your inner walls fluttered around him, welcoming him home and gripping him tight. All it took was a few well-placed swipes of his thumb over your clit to have you tumbling over the edge—a delicious cresting of pleasure that made you arch off the bed, biting your nails into his shoulders, a cry caught in your throat.

Ben fucked you through your release, all while chasing his own. His grip on your hip tightened as his thrusts grew ragged, his own breathing shallow and rough, until his balls tightened and his body locked up on him. He spent himself inside you, coating your inner walls until he had nothing left.

He just barely managed to keep himself from smothering you as his body relaxed. You still welcomed his weight on you, soothing your hands up and down his back while you both caught your breath. Your thighs slipped from his hips, your feet meeting bed and sliding out a little.

Ben brushed your sweaty hair away from your face. Looking down on you now, his face gentled from its hardened angles and furrowed brows. You smiled lazily.

“Still mad at me?” you teased.

Ben resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he let out a rough exhale through his nose.

“Something tells me you didn’t learn your lesson,” he said, somewhat incredulous, and yet, amused.

Your smile was undoubtedly cheeky, even as you leaned up to give him a sweeter kiss.

“Sure did, baby,” you said against his lips. And another kiss. “Lesson learned, I promise.”

He really did roll his eyes this time.

AN: 😂 Ben just can't win, can he?

Translation: Monsiuer Grincheux - "Mr. Grumpy" in French

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Coming up next, Ben has his Adventures in Babysitting moment in Green:

Summary: Ben spends the day alone with his daughter, to varying degrees of success. When you get home, it prompts a serious conversation.

▶️ Keep Reading: Green

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pathologicalreid · 2 months ago

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for the fear of falling apart | epilogue

good things come to those who wait, and you're finally getting your happy ending

series masterlist

who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: fluff (there's a first time for everything) content warnings: spoilers for criminal minds evolution but nothing super detailed, dad!spencer, babies, breastfeeding, takes place during s16, cancer, spencer's "special assignment" is just him being a dad word count: 1.74k a/n: the spencer reid dilf agenda is at the center of the universe. i cant believe ffofa is over. this is just a short and sweet look into what r and spencer are doing during cme - aka being parents. (the gif has nothing to do with the chapter he just looks so sexy)

“Where is she?” Spencer asked, minding the hour as he hung his token leather satchel in the entryway. He peeked around the living room before making his way to where you were in the kitchen, closing up your book of crosswords before he saw the clues and gave you all of the answers – a habit of his that you had been begging him to break.

Affixing your pen to the cover of the puzzle book, you hummed in response to his question, “It’s nine p.m., she’s asleep, in her crib.” You turned to face him, “And you may not go up there and get her,” you caught at his hand as you noticed him moving toward the stairs, “You will not wake that baby up, Spencer Reid.”

He accepted his defeat, coming back and gently wrapping his arms around you, “Did she go down okay?”

“No,” you answered bluntly, reciprocating his hug by reaching your arms up and slinging them over his shoulders. “She never does when you’re not home,” you added, providing a fact that he was already well aware of.

Spencer chuckled softly into the crook of your neck, “I thought I would’ve been able to get away earlier.”

You were unbothered, leaning into his touch, “Bedtime is at 7:30, you never would’ve made it in time.” His faculty event at school started at seven. It had been scheduled to run until midnight, but Spencer always made the effort to be home with you at the end of every day. The two of you hadn’t missed a tea date since before your daughter was born.

“But now it’s too late for us to do anything of substance,” he said, separating himself from you to switch on the electric kettle, looking over his shoulder at you, silently asking if you wanted tea.

Nodding at him, you watched as he pulled two mugs from the cabinet and dropped tea bags in each of them, “We can watch that documentary you were talking about last night.”

“You’ll fall asleep,” he countered. It was a symptom of motherhood that you hadn’t seen coming, falling asleep while watching anything.

You shrugged, “She’ll wake up to eat, I’ll wake up to feed her.” While your otherwise perfect daughter had mastered sleeping through the night within her first few months earthside, teething had ruined any semblance of a sleep schedule she had, so, she started crying to eat in the middle of the night.

Your husband didn’t seem convinced, but he grabbed the kettle off of its base and poured the hot water into your mugs, sliding a bureau-branded one toward you and keeping the octopus mug for himself. “Last time you fell asleep on the couch and I tried to get you to bed you threw things at me,” he reminded you, stirring honey into his tea before handing the sweetener to you.

“I threw a pillow at you,” you disputed, drizzling the honey into your mug before asking him to put the dish back up in the cabinet.

He rolled his eyes, leaning over the counter and smiling at you, a sweet, dopey, Harlequin romance smile. “I probably deserved it,” he acquiesced, bringing his mug to his lips and taking a sip of the lavender tea.

Spinning your mug on the counter in front of you, you raised your eyebrows and considered changing the subject, but you were lacking any kind of segue material, “So, JJ called me today,” you said.

Spencer set his octopus mug on the counter and frowned, “Are they still having problems?” He asked, resting his chin in his hands and keeping his attention on you.

Nodding, you shared a knowing look with him. Havoc had been wreaked on the BAU since Penelope left. You were lucky enough to be on maternity leave while administrators tore your unit apart and Spencer was on a special assignment – playing the long game on a case that the bureau felt needed to be closed. “I still can’t believe they dragged Penelope back, she was so content with SOAR,” you griped, knowing how much the techie’s life had improved since leaving the FBI.

“I can,” Spencer admitted, “There’s no BAU without Penelope Garcia. There were four people in that tech room trying to do the work she did,” he said, picking his mug back up before making his way around the kitchen island and sitting in the bar stool next to yours.

You leaned back in your stool, with Matt out on an assignment of his own, the BAU’s numbers had gone down drastically. “In better news, Dave went home,” you told Spencer, pointing your sock-covered foot out to nudge him gently.

His expression softened, “Good, the hotel was getting…”

“Yeah,” you agreed, sipping at your tea. Krystall had been the picture of health until she wasn’t, and losing her had nearly sent Rossi to a place you feared he’d never come back from. “Anyway, JJ asked if we were still alright with hosting Christmas this year,” you recalled from the phone call, “I said yes.”

Spencer nodded in agreement, “Have they heard anything from the oncologist?”

You frowned helplessly, “Not yet, depending on the results they might have to do more tests. I offered to take the boys next weekend if they need the time, J’s afraid mom will blab to Henry.”

“You miss it,” Spencer observed, eyes flitting over to the baby monitor on the counter.

Rolling your eyes, “You do a job for nine years, you’re going to miss it when you take time off. Don’t act like you don’t,” you chided gently, smiling into your mug. When the bureau took everything you had been through into account, they willingly offered you an extended maternity leave, which you took without a second thought. However, you hadn’t anticipated feeling so disconnected from the team.

Spencer pursed his lips, “I do, but I like being home with you and Mila more.”

Leaning forward, you reached out and took his hand in yours, “Baby, if you want to go back to the BAU full-time, you know I’d never, ever get in the way of that.”

He shook his head dismissively, “No, not yet at least, but someday.”

The BAU was home, you knew that well enough, but now he had a home with you and Amelia. That wasn’t something he’d give up easily. You watched Spencer at he looked at the baby monitor again, “Stop praying on my downfall, she’ll wake up soon.”

Taking your empty mug in his hands, he set both yours and his in the kitchen sink, “I love you,” he told you.

Your face warmed at the expression, one of those times where there just wasn’t anything else he wanted to say – he just needed to tell you that he loved you. “I love you too,” you said, happily basking in what you assumed was your lingering new parent glow – the two of you were stronger than ever.

Quietly, Spencer loaded the rinsed mugs into the dishwasher before closing it, coming back around the counter and stopping in his tracks when a phone started to ring.

Dropping your head to the counter, you waited for the inevitable wailing to come from the nursery, when the cries started, you looked up at Spencer, “You get her, I’ll get the phone,” you negotiated.

Fishing the ringing phone – Spencer’s – off of the coffee table, you frowned at the caller ID before bringing the screen to your ear. “I need to talk to your wife,” a frantic voice said on the other end.

“Hi, Penny,” you greeted, eyes drifting to the top of the stairs where Spencer was emerging with a squawking baby in his arms.

Penelope gasped on the other end of the call, “I so very desperately need your advice. Do you remember me telling you about Tyler?” She sounded almost out of breath.

You hummed in response, “The guy from the serial killer website?” You wondered where she was going with this – technically the team wasn’t supposed to share case information with you, but that had never stopped any of them.

“Yes, that one,” she confirmed, “I kissed him.”

Surprised, you dropped down onto the couch, looking up at Spencer as you searched for an appropriate response to Penelope’s confession, “Emily is going to kill you.”

The other end of the call was silent except for Penelope trying to articulate a retort. Spencer frowned at you, swaying gently with Amelia in his arms, “What happened?”

Moving the mouthpiece away, you looked up at him, “She kissed a material witness,” you told him, watching as he clamped his lips together in a failed attempt to hide his amusement.

“This is serious,” she scolds over the phone. “I need a debrief. Coffee tomorrow?”

You nodded as the baby grew increasingly impatient in Spencer’s arms – his chest was just no good to her. “Hold on,” You said over the phone, waving for Spencer to hand the baby off to you so you could feed her.

He settled her in your arms, helping you as best he could before he was in the way, “You’ve got her?”

Spencer pressed a soft kiss to your hairline when you told him you were fine, bringing the phone back up once Mila latched, “Hey, so tomorrow, nine?” You offered, peering down as the baby nursed for comfort. “I can meet you at the kiosk in front of Quantico if that’s easier.”

Penelope sighed dramatically, “As long as you bring your pretty face and your pretty baby, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Lobbing the phone across the couch cushions, you leaned back slightly, adjusting the baby when she was done so that she could hopefully drift back to sleep. Your husband came back downstairs, having swapped his work clothes and contacts for pajamas and glasses, he deftly sat down next to you and took the baby.

Carefully, he settled her on his chest, letting her tiny limbs curl in neatly as she let out sweet coos, brown eyes fluttering shut as Spencer gently swiped his thumb across her back. That little girl had him wrapped around his finger from the moment he knew about her existence.

You shifted to rest your head on his shoulder, watching Mila drift off into her dreams, “Are you going to fall asleep like this?” Spencer asked you, keeping his voice at a whisper.

Humming, you shut your eyes briefly, “Yeah, this is my favorite show.”

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fluff #jareau!reader #ffofa #written by margot

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mydear-corinthian · 5 months ago

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welcome to burlesque

synopsis - tommy attends to this new burlesque club and he didn't expect to see you there

pairing - tommy shelby x reader (dancer!)

warnings - SMUT +18, breeding kink, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex.

notes - rushed, this is my favourite song and movie ><, divider by saradika-graphics

main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist

After the first World War, the inner-city of Small Heath, Birmingham is not lively that it used to. Loads of soldiers coming home from the war were traumatized; only finding comfort in whores, cocaine, alcohol, and betting.

With lots of men now drinking and snorting on their snows, alcohol businesses, betting shops, and cocaine distributors are now on their peak of their business like the well-known gangster, the man himself, Thomas Shelby.

It was the usual day for the gangster. His family running their businesses and sorting out gangster fights. Tommy is miserable in a way that he has no one to talk to or engage something with. Sure, he has his family but all he can talk about to them is business. With women, he still cannot find the right women for him.

As Tommy walked on the bland streets of Small Heath, inhaling his cigarette, he was approached by his friend, Johnny Dogs and his other workers. As Johnny walked to catch up with Tommy, he placed his shoulders on the gangster's shoulders.

"What ya up to, Tom?" Johnny Dogs asked, a smile planted on his face.

"The usual, John, business," Tommy sighed before he replied, continuing to inhale the cancerous stick.

"You should go to this club, Tommy! There's a lot of women in there, I heard. Just recently opened," Curly joined the conversation.

Tommy's eyes began to look at them. Recently opened? A club? In Birmingham?

He began to be interested and curious at the same time.

"Curly's right, Tom." John said. "Maybe you'll find someone there, eh? Or maybe just loosen up."

"There's nothing new with that, Johnny. There's whores everywhere. What's so special about this club," the older Shelby replied.

"Heard the women there are.. unique. Dancers."

Strip clubs in Small Heath isn't new for Tommy. But it's a bit confusing for him to see why his friend is very invested in this club. Maybe there's something more and special about these women and dancers. He cannot help but think.

"What ya say, Tom?"

After a few minutes of deciding, he exhaled.

"8:00 PM."

The boys cheered and clapped, playfully hitting each other's shoulders with their elbows as they cheered. A huge smile were planted on their faces

• • •

It was finally 7 in the evening. Tommy Shelby was already dressed for the man's night. A velvet red tie decorated his grey suit. His long black trench coat keeping him warm. The golden pocket watch with the engraved 'Shelby' name on the back hanged on the small pocket of his charcoal vest.

"Where are you going, Tom?" Polly asked as he saw his nephew exiting the manor.

Tommy placed his newsboy hat on his head, styling it properly as he replied to his aunt,

"Night with me boys. We'll be back by morning."

"Hope you're not plotting something again, Thomas."

"Yeah, no, aunt Pol." he coldly replied before finally shutting the door.

• • •

The ride was a little long, especially how this club is in the Northern part of Birmingham. The Blinders have finally arrived. Getting off their cars and entering the club like they owned it. The entrance fee lady didn't even bother asking them to pay since, well, they're the Peaky Blinders. Other customers hurriedly gave way and emptied the tables for them.

The club was lit in a red color. Circular tables with lamps were placed everywhere in front of the medium sized stage. Renaissance paintings were hanged all over the walls of the club. Tommy was suprised by this new club, it shows how the owner definitely has a budget for this.

The gangsters finally sat on their chairs just near the stage, ordering up a few drinks before the lights turned off, only focusing on the stage.

"This club is a Burlesque?" Tommy asked as he sipped a glass of whiskey he ordered.

"Yeah. Can't you believe it? The first every Burlesque club after a decade!"

The small band on the side of the stage started to play a jazz-like original song. A woman with a black top hat decorated on her (h/c) hair, a combination of black and white colour painted her tight corset while a pair of black fishnet stockings kept her warm appeared on the stage with a few dancers.

As the song started, you began to sing. Swaying your body seductively to the melody of the song, you looked at the guests. There were a lot of people in the club making you nervous but you decided to brush the anxiety away.

Tommy was widened by the performance but it wasn't the first time that he witnessed it; it's just that he haven't seen this kind of performance in years. His baby blue eyes followed you as you sang, mesmerized by the shift looks on your face. He kept a close eye on your legs as they moved fluidly and elegantly to the music. His eyes lingered on the way the tight corset tightened in your curves and making your form seem more beautiful with each breath. He was lost in focus, taking in each detail of your performance.

You looked at the audience again and now your eyes caught him.

Thomas Shelby.

The man himself.

You felt your heart drop, you know that one day he will visit the club but you didn't expect that it will be today. It was like a faraway memory coming to life the first time you saw him since the war. You remembered the moment that ignited everything between you, helping him with his broken arm in that dark tunnel. You can still feel the warmth of that kiss you had under the sycamore tree, and the letters you wrote one other later that carried shards of your hearts. That gentle kiss represented the silent relationship that has become stronger with every written word and every memory exchanged.

The way he looked at you felt the same: soft and genuine.

Tom had already shown many signs of trauma during the war, but he always felt safe and well while he was with you in the medic tent or on walks. You ended the gazing exchange between you two by continuing to dance.

You got a lot of "woo" and "yeah" remarks from the crowd as you went on singing and dancing sensually with your girls.

Tom began to be curious. You seem so familiar to him but he's not sure where you guys met.

"Who's the singer, Charlie?" Tom began to ask, leaning, his mouth just behind Charlie's ear.

"Oh her? That's (Y/n) (L/n). I heard she served in the war as a medic. Lovely ain't she?"

Oh.

Now Tom can recall who you were.

It was you, the nurse, who saved his arm after a bullet struck him in that tunnel. His memories of the war flashed back, and for the first time he wasn't afraid. Rather, he was somewhat happy. He recalled how you carefully applied a white bandage on his arm with your soft, delicate hands. She asked about how he was while exchanging life stories with him. How you kissed each other beneath the sycamore tree.

"Welcome to Burlesque!" The dance finally ended. A huge smile plastered on your face as you bowed, the big curtains coming down the stage. Loads of men including Tom's gang stood up and cheered, their claps echoed the club.

As you went backstage and sat on your vanity, you cannot help but recall who you just saw. His eyes were still the same; his blue eyes shining as his eyes locked yours. Memories of you and him talking, kissing, walking together flashed on your mind, making you frown at the memory that you hope you can still experience it again.

Meanwhile, Tommy excused himself, telling his gang that he'll be visiting the backstage to talk to someone. They didn't interfere nor asked who and why.

Tom finally arrived at the backstage, seeing women changing to their next-performance clothes. The dancers gasp at the sight of the notorious gangster, immediately covering up their bodies with their clothes. He cleared his throat due to the awkward moment, starting to ask where you were. "

Where can I find (Y/n) (L/n)?" Tom asked.

"B-back room, Mr. Shelby."

As Tommy walked towards the wooden door of your own vanity room, his heart raced. He felt his muscle goes numb every step he took. He doesn't know how you will react if he saw you. Will you be mad for him leaving you all of a sudden after the war? Will you be sad? Will you be happy? He doesn't know and he cares about that.

Taking a deep breath, his pale palms twisted the door knob, opening the door. He finally saw you. Sitting on a circular chair in front of your well-lit vanity mirror, loads and loads of make-up scattered on your table. You were wearing your long black corset only.

As you noticed the door opening, you looked at who it was while trying to remove your earrings. Finally looking at the person, your heart instantly dropped. You finally saw him up close after years of having no contact.

"Thomas..?" You stood up, feeling every electricity in your body flinched.

"(Y/n)."

A part of you wants to run up to him and give him the tightest hug and another part of you wants to scream at him for leaving you just like that.

"Why are you here?" you answered coldly but your voice softy broke, trying not to cry.

"I'm sorry," he spoke up. "..for leaving you just like that. I didn't mean to. I-It's just that - I didn't knew what to do."

As a former medic, it's understandable due to his mental state during the war. But as his lover, you just wished he stayed.

"Where were you, Tommy.."

"I'm so sorry, my love," Tom apologized, slowly walking towards you, cupping your cheek with his palms, stroking your chin.

"I missed you, Tommy. I thought you were gone." you whispered, holding his palms that were cupping on your cheeks, a tear finally fell from your sad eyes.

You tried finding him during and after the war but you failed. You forced yourself to move on, thinking that it was just for his comfort that time and you mean nothing to him now.

Slowly, his lips met yours. Allowing himself to be reunite with you. Tom's hand gripped your side hip as the kiss began to deepen. And there it is, you felt the same feeling when the both of you kissed under that sycamore tree.

He gently pushed you on the door, continuing the make-out session as his fingers locked the doorknob.

"Fuck, I missed you.."

"..so much," Tommy whispered in between kisses.

Your spine tingled with electric shocks as he sucked and kissed your neck, causing you to gasp and sigh with a mixture of pleasure and excitement. With an ache that made it seem as though he hadn't tasted anything like this in years, his lips finally discovered that sweet spot he had been longing for.

Every kiss was intense, every suck a confession of his insatiable appetite, making you insanely addicted. You got caught up in the moment, losing yourself in the heat of the moment as your fingers became tangled in his hair and gripped harder with every pleasure pulse.

"You taste so sweet, my love," he said.

You began to undo your black corset, leaving you with your black lacey bra and underwear, and your fishnet stockings. Trying to undo the stockings, Tom interfered.

"Leave the stockings on."

Nodding, your lips and his met each other again. Tommy's lips were stained with your red lipstick. The two of you ran to the vanity table, your hands removing all the items and make-up that was placed there while Tom began to unbutton his trousers and then his underwear.

You felt so aroused as your black panties were soaked wet. Your hole aching for Tommy inside.

"So wet already?" his deep voice made you wetter.

"Please, Tom. I need you.."

His cock sprung free out of his boxers, revealing how hard he was. He pumped it first with his hand before he moved your panties to the side instead of fully taking it off, allowing him to enter you.

You gasped aloud as his long, thick length began to gently and deeply penetrate you, each inch sending waves of powerful pleasure through your entire body. Tom, at the same time, moaned lightly as he enjoyed the way your close warmth surrounded him, the closeness sparking a fire between you both. His movements had a steady, deliberate pace, and your bodies seemed to melt together as each thrust was delivered with delicate passion. Your in unison breathing and softly spoken confessions of love filled the room, each one increasing the sensual, romantic connection between you.

Your body faced the mirror so he was fucking behind you. After a few minutes of you adjusting to his length, he began to thrust slowly.

"Oh fuck," you moaned.

"You feel so good — fuck!"

Your breasts bounced in time to every thrust he made, and your moans got louder and stronger. Euphoria rushes over you, bringing you closer to the brink with each move. You realized how much you had missed his presence and the way he filled you up entirely because of the pace of that moment. The overwhelming happiness served as a clear reminder of the intense touch and need you had experienced while he was away.

Your head lowered and your palms gripped the side of the bright vanity table. Your head was messy, a few strands of hair covered your face.

You can hear the breathy moans that Tommy let out. His rough fingers gripping your waist as his lower body jerked up, his head rolled back.

As he noticed your head looking down, his right palm gripped your jaw, making you look up and look at the mirror forcely.

"Look at yourself while I'm fucking you, honey."

Nothing but your shared moans, grunts, and skin slapping echoed the whole room. You didn't care how loud you guys were, you just want to think of him and him alone.

Feeling your orgasm build up, you began to let out a louder series of moans and gripped his arm.

"Tom—fuck! I'm close.."

"Yeah? Go on, cum on my cock."

"Yes Tommy, yes! Oh my god!"

"I'm gonna fill you up, yeah? Put a baby inside you. Gonna be the mother of our children, mhm?" he whispered on your ear as his pace quickened.

Finally, your orgasm came, making a mess on his massive dick. After a few more thrusts from Tommy, he came inside you, filling your walls with his sticky white cum.

The both of you panted, catching your breaths. Tom finally pulled out, making your aching hole leak out your shared juices. He let out a satisfied groan.

"Fuck, that was hot," he said, giving you a passionate kiss.

"I love you, Thomas Shelby."

"I love you, (Y/n) (L/n)."

#peaky blinders #x reader #cillian murphy x reader #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby #cillian murphy #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #cillian murphy smut #tommy shelby x reader #cillian x reader #cillian smut #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby smut

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astuteology · 27 days ago

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Has this ever happened to you?

Placements that you should keep an eye on-

[Edit:don't be confused about the placements i mentioned below. Ask if you have any doubts. Share your own experiences with these placements. And read the title carefully! The placements alone may or may not cause this, some other placements can alter that as well. Still if you have any confusion or doubts, you can send me your birth details with your question and ill be more than happy to answer! {I dont charge :)}]

Any planet (except for outer) as your 5th lord, sitting in the 12th house: look at the sign, sidereal (It is VERY important to look at the sidereal placements for accuracy). Besides having soooo maaaany hidden talents, it attracts hidden stalkers. For eg- sun sitting in the 12th house as the 5th house lord in the sign leo, anyone with leo placements will go INSANELY crazy for you and they WILL NOT hear "no" from you. It is very invasive and disgusting, potentially leading to feelings of anxiety and fear in you.

Lilith in the 1st house: 5th, 7th, 10th and 12th are also affected with this BUT lilith in the 1st is THE MOST AFFECTED PLACEMENT. No matter what sign you have, one thing is for sure no one will stand up for you, no will be ever be real with you, everyone will try to humble you down. Especially with females, not one female friend of yours is true to you, nor they ever will be. Not even the new friends that you'll be making. Now if you are feeling that no it is not like that my friend is not like that, wait, time will tell the truth.

Mars in cancer: worse if its in the 4th and retrograde. Mars doesn't do well with emotions, it's an energy and it wants to be set free. One thing is sure, your family is against you no matter how much they tell you and show you that they love you. It's an act. Wait until you evasdrop.

For women; men will try to dominate you, tell you things you want to hear, to gain control over you. For men; all of your male friends, are not your friends. All. Of. Them. If you are committed, women will try to manipulate you into leaving your partner. Do not.

Pisces/Sagittarius/cancer sun/moon in the 12th house: first and foremost, I salute you for surviving 🫡. If youre thinking "it will get easy", it. Will. Not. You will eventually have to remove yourself from whatever gave you hell.

Saturn+moon+north/south node in the 2nd, 4th, 6th or 12th: the good side is; WONDERFUL self control, GREAT and in depth knowledge of humans, it can take you to great positions but with perseverance. Now the negatives; anxiety that is almost impossible to control. Irrational fears. Women figures in your home or relatives will always be after you to attack you. It will definitely take you away from your home (physical or mental distance). But you will always be chased after by your family, relatives, cousins, oldest friends, ex friends, exes.... I mean the jealous ones.

Scorpio rising/ascendant: the ones you consider your "loved ones" or "closest to me", do they feel the same about you?.... hmm?. Read that again.

You need to be very very VERY cautious with people you meet, your every friend, even the childhood ones, literally everyone, even your siblings or cousins. They may or may not be real with you. Look for- guilt tripping, victim card, women's card, attention seeking, emotional manipulation, using your past against you, grandiosity, self centeredness (even if it is subtle), gaslighting by minimization, emotional triangulation, love bombing, projection reversal, etc. If you suspect someone close to you has narcissistic tendencies, cut them off. If your can't, ignore them. I know it is hard, but you will not give them power over you.

Neptune on the ascendant: no one will ever know the real you. No one will ever believe you. Even if you tell them about yourself. There's no "first impression is the last impression" for others, it's "someone told me you are like that so i'll always believe you are like that" for others. Annnd its also gonna come from the people you never expected.

8th house synastry with your best friends, cousins or siblings: ooooffff.... that shit will hurt badly. Once there is "THAT" fight, ykwim, there's no going back. No rebuilding bonds, no trusting anyone ever again, emotional exhaustion. Watch them tell your secrets to the people you both disliked, watch them replace you so quickly, watch them do the things they told you they will never do, watch them befriend people they said were not nice, watch them playing the victim card. And then one day they'll come back again and act like they've changed, when its just to use you again. A whole new level of narcissism here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There are more! Stay tuned.

#astrology observations #astro notes #astro placements #astrology placements #astro community #astrology notes #synastry observations

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bloodstained-ballgowns · 4 months ago

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i just rewatched ‘the woman who fell to earth’ a couple of days ago for the first time since it aired back in 2018 and the more i think about it, the more i like it.

thirteen is the only doctor for whom i feel a tangible, rose-tinted nostalgia. she wasn’t my first doctor, but she was the first doctor i watched live, the first doctor that i spent an actual extended period of time with over the episode rollout. her intro episode has middling parts (as can be expected with most episodes of Who) but there’s also so much good that i really want to highlight.

first of all, there are some really great character dynamics set up here. much more interesting than i remember, tbh. ryan is a guy who loves mechanics but is stuck in a warehouse job he hates, a guy who obviously wants to connect to people, a guy who by the end of the episode has lost both his mother and grandmother in the space of a couple of years and the step-grandfather he didn’t really want is all he has left (minus his absent father). that’s interesting.

yaz has a keen sense of justice and this raw, intense yearning to help people, to do something worthwhile, something more - the way she has chosen to express that is through law enforcement, but it’s not quite giving her the satisfaction she wants. that’s interesting.

graham’s experience with cancer means that he constantly feels like he’s living on borrowed time. meeting grace gave him purpose, gave him family, gave him the will to fight when he fought it was all but over, but now grace is gone. he and ryan aren’t related, but they’re family, and now they’ve got to figure out how to care for each other without the very lynchpin that brought them together. once again with feeling: interesting!

“i’m just a traveller. sometimes i see things that need fixing. i do what i can.” i like that they circle back to the ‘just some guy’ portrayal of the doctor here, both because it’s the one i’m partial to and because it feeds particularly well into the whole ‘the doctor is an unreliable narrator’ aspect, especially in the wake of the increased deification in the moffat era. it's a nice set up, even if it gets completely overhauled circa series 12/13. in fact, having thirteen keep this as a persistent attitude throughout the Timeless Child of it all could have been really effective re: her reticence with her companions and refusal to address or deal with her past.

the scene where thirteen builds her sonic screwdriver might be one of my favourite sequences in nuwho. i love that it’s a hybrid of alien tech and sheffield steel. i also love that they highlight the ‘mad inventor’ side of the doctor here (her teleportation circuit is based around a microwave?) and wish that they had carried it forward more. it would have been the perfect basis for her to bond with ryan over. jodie also pulls off the humour of the episode well, considering the significant shift from moffat dialogue.

i enjoy thirteen's outfit: the vibrancy of it as mirroring her childish excitability, but also as another part of the mask - if i dress all colourful then maybe i can ignore/outrun/masquerade my great capacity for darkness! etc etc. the shopping trip with yaz and ryan is a bit shoe-horned in at the end but it's cute that she finds it in a charity shop. (back in 2018 i bought a t-shirt with a couple of stripes across the chest solely because it remotely resembled the one she wore lol. nerd from a young age, me.) jodie also looks soo hot in capaldi's outfit though so a spin on the traditional suit would also have been appreciated.

some miscellaneous points: i like that she tells Karl off (“you had no right to do that”) right after saving him. i like that she gets it wrong at first and makes it clear that she’s working on the fly. she’s following her instinct, and that instinct is to help people. doctor who has been beautiful before but the cinematography takes such a huge step this era. “it’s been a long time since i bought women’s clothes” i am choosing to believe this is about river thank you and good night.

#if you read all of this you are so brave and also i love you #accidental essay #'potential' is the chibnall era in one word tbh #excuse inaccurate comparisons i do not remember enough about this era and what they carry forward #thirteen #thirteenth doctor #doctor who #the woman who fell to earth #ryan sinclair #yasmin khan #graham o'brien

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arcadia345 · 2 years ago

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Astro observations🌺

FYI I’m not a real astrologer, just my observations :) TW🔞

The cancer moon men I know are pretty chill and laid back + funny, but the women are so bitchy and moody😭 with a big sweet tooth

Every twin I know either has Gemini or Pisces placements

You ever meet someone and their neck just stands out for some reason added points if they smell good, most likely they’re a Taurus rising/ mars. Good example is Megan thee stallion her neck is so cute to me hehe

Aries in the chart can show you the things you were introduced to at a very young age, the early memories that you think of and say ‘That was wild lol’

3rd: could’ve started learning way before you started school(like flash cards and things) siblings and cousins, music, having access to electronics early

4th: erratic home life, the woman around you could be go getters

6th: could’ve got a lot of injuries when younger, probably couldn’t have a peaceful day even if you tried, bad experiences with animals

7th: domestic abuse, might have seen people having affairs, lots of disagreements between couples

12th:paranormal events, you could’ve had a lot of deja vu moments without even knowing, tend to have strong spiritual gifts,people having ill intentions towards you

Aquarius moon or degree/ moon in the 11th tend to have a “second mom” a person that treats them like their one of their own children, sometimes even better than their own mother does. 🌚

The people with mars in the first house I know have so many battle scars on their body

Moon/cancer in 3rd love changing their voices, and they have a bad habit of not telling the whole truth / white lies

Water sign on the descendent- people are always wondering what you’re up to, no matter how much you show them they’ll still wanna know what you’re hiding

Your first house correlates to how you came into this world, I have Chiron (ruled by Virgo) in my 12 conjunct my ascendant, uhm she said she almost d*ed having me😀 and I was a C-section baby. And the hospital did her so dirty(you know much they hate black women) they didn’t even stitch her back up correctly or drain her fluids and to this day she still has problems. The also gave her extra dosages of drugs just cause she’s a plus size woman- honestly I could go on and on but it really correlates with my cap rising and Neptune/Uranus in 1st

Mercury ☌ Sun, these people voices are just💋💋 they sound so sensual and unique ugh hard to explain it but 🥴 ex. Jungkook , Tupac

Gemini/ Libra in 2nd love collecting things like figurines makeup clothes candles plushies, could easily be a borderline hoarder tho

Ives noticed that sun in 10th have a strained relationship with their father, but their later years in life their relationship gets better, or not could really go either way, also could have money issues in their early years but ends up climbing the corporate ladder. It may take you a while to tho but just know it’ll be worth it in the end :) also they always stand out at their work place in some way, the coworker that you’re glad to see clock in at rush hour cause you know they gonna handle shit

Venus- mercury positive aspects love giving out nicknames to their favorite people 🥺if they’re always calling you cute names just know they really care about you lol

Sag moons and degrees have no chill😀 like calm down bae sag anything tbh🚬

9th house ruler in the 11th could go to the same college with their old friends or could become very popular in the area they’re in, I think they’d make good bloggers

Air signs or degrees in 5th are trend setters.

Aquarius you inspire people, they could take things and make it into their own like art

With gemini here people will “copy & paste” ur looks. But no matter what it just looks like a knockoff version of what you did lmao it just never look as good as yours

Libra here people are very opinionated on how you express yourself either in a good way or bad, neither less you guys get a lot of compliments on your style

Every time I see a Capricorn rising with Neptune in the 1st it’s like their skin is see through and fragile😯makes sense tho since caps rule the skin and Neptune fogs things up. A good example is Ariana Grande her skin looks so delicate

Pluto/Scorpio in the 11th/11th house ruler in 8th, your friends could hate each other🤺 also they could have a rough life/childhood, trauma bonding or just experiencing traumatic events together is common here

Chiron in Aries (honestly any Aries placements it just depends on where it is), most people didn’t pay attention to them in their childhood in some way so they learned to be independent because of their lack of support cardinal things fr

That’s all for today! Give me a follow if you enjoyed💕

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deliciousangelfestival · 6 months ago

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Nothing Has Changed - 4

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Words Count: 1,740

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

“It fucking sucks,” you muttered, frustration dripping from every word.

Tom, your dad, reached out a hand, his smile a fragile thing, but a smile nonetheless. "At least I've got my kid by my side," he said, his voice raspy.

You saw the tremor in his hand, the glisten of unshed tears behind his eyes. He was trying to be vital for you.

You stared at him, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirling behind your eyes. Here he was, facing his own mortality, yet a ghost of a smile played on his lips.

Acceptance. A horrifying, unwanted acceptance that twisted your insides. You wouldn't accept it. Not this. Not yet.

Your heart hammered against your ribs, a frantic drum solo threatening to burst through your chest.

The air felt thin, stolen from your lungs with each labored breath. You shot up from your chair, the movement jerky, fueled by a potent mix of terror and defiance.

Tom noticed the panic in your eyes.

“Don’t fall apart. Don’t fall apart,” you kept repeating to yourself, the words a desperate mantra as you tried to hold yourself together.

Your hands trembled, and tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but you blinked them away, refusing to let them fall.

After hearing the diagnosis, it felt like your world was collapsing. You were on the brink of shattering into pieces, teetering on the edge of insanity.

Everything would never be the same again.

You couldn’t stay in the room any longer. You ran to the backyard, your steps frantic and unsteady. Once outside, you screamed as loud as you could, “Aaargh!”

The scream tore from your throat, raw and primal, as if expelling the anguish that threatened to consume you. It felt like if you didn’t scream, you might have a heart attack.

You collapse to your knees; the grass is cool and damp beneath you, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Tears finally streamed down your face, and you didn’t bother to wipe them away. Your body shook with sobs, each one wracking your frame with the weight of your grief and fear.

After letting out your stress and tears, you realized that the core of your anxiety was fear. But what exactly were you afraid of?

The first problem was straightforward. You knew you hadn't engaged in insider trading. You had provided proof. If they still insisted you were the culprit, you had a final, desperate card to play: blackmail. You had a little black book filled with records of suspicious transactions at Drysdale company.

Returning to your hometown was another source of stress. Meeting your tormentors again was daunting, but you hadn't done anything wrong. You were the victim, not the perpetrator.

Then there was your father. No one could have predicted his illness. It was the cancer's fault, an enemy that medicine and chemotherapy could potentially defeat.

You’d come so far. All the hardships you’d faced over the years seemed to have prepared you for this moment. Life sucked, but you had to keep fighting. Survival was the only option.

You looked up and saw the moon. The night was clear, not like the city; here, you could see the moon perfectly.

You clenched your fist, lifting your right arm and extending your middle finger to the sky. "I will win this fight," you declared with defiance.

The cool night air filled your lungs, and you felt a surge of determination. It was as if the universe had thrown everything it could at you, but you were still standing.

You turned back towards the house, feeling a new sense of resolve. This was your life; no matter how hard it got, you were ready to face it head-on.

When Tom saw you walking back into the house, he looked up with concern etched across his face. "Are you alright?" he asked softly, his voice trembling slightly.

You nodded, your eyes meeting his. "I am," you replied, your voice steadier now. "I’ll stay here beside you, Dad."

Tom’s eyes filled with tears; it's been a long time since he heard you call him 'Dad.' He reached out a shaky hand towards you. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Thank you, thank you."

You walked over and took his hand in yours, feeling the frailty of his grip. You gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I should have been here more," you admitted, guilt washing over you. "I'm sorry for being so distant."

Tom shook his head, his tears spilling over. "No, sweetheart, I’m the one who should be sorry," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I pushed you away, and I’ve regretted it every single day."

You sat down beside him, still holding his hand. "Let's not dwell on the past," you said, your voice firm but gentle. "We have now, and that's what matters. We'll get through this together."

Tom nodded, a weak smile breaking through his tears. "Together," he echoed. He pulled you into a hug, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a sense of peace.

As you held each other, the weight of the past seemed to lift, replaced by a new sense of hope and unity. The moon outside shone brightly, casting a soft light into the room, symbolizing a fresh start for both of you.

🚗

For the past couple of days, you’ve been staying with your dad, taking care of him, and accompanying him to the hospital. You listened intently to the doctor's explanation about his condition.

The cancer Tom has is dangerous, but it's still treatable, provided he keeps up with the chemotherapy and medication. The truth is Tom doesn’t want to go through the grueling process of chemo, but having his daughter by his side gives him the strength to endure it. Because of you, he’s willing to fight.

When you drove back home, you noticed another car in the driveway. It was Bucky's.

Tom, while taking off his seat-belt, nervously told you, "Bucky is... ehm... he's helping with the funeral for tomorrow."

You, not caring at all, replied, "I don't care."

Tom looked relieved. He had thought Bucky would become a thorn in the conversation again. "I'll go inside and help him," he said, opening the car door and heading into the funeral home.

You said nothing and grabbed your phone, which had been buzzing for a while. You picked it up from near the car radio.

When the screen showed the name of your lawyer, 'Maya,' you felt a surge of relief. "Hello? What's the result?"

"You're right. They couldn't prove it," Maya said.

You clenched your fist in silent celebration. You had won.

"But," Maya added.

You felt a bad feeling in your gut. "What's the bad news?"

"It's from your office. They fired you," Maya revealed.

You tapped the steering wheel with your fingers, anger bubbling inside you. You had expected this. That damn Drysdale. You knew they would throw you away at the first chance.

You gripped the steering wheel tightly, feeling the heat of your anger rising. "Those bastards," you muttered under your breath. "After everything, they still screwed me over."

Maya sighed on the other end. "I'm really sorry, but I thought you should know as soon as possible."

"Thanks, Maya," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "I appreciate everything you've done."

Hanging up the phone, you sat in the car momentarily, seething.

You had lost your job, your reputation was in tatters, and now you were back in a town filled with painful memories dealing with your father's illness. The universe was conspiring against you, but you refused to break. You wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

As you sat in the car, grappling with the news of your firing, you suddenly noticed Bucky exiting from the funeral home and heading to his car. Something snapped inside you, a surge of rage and frustration boiling over.

You didn't know why, but in that moment, it felt like the devil had taken control of your body.

Your foot slammed on the gas pedal, and the car lurched forward, speeding straight towards Bucky.

Bucky heard the roar of the engine and instinctively looked up, locking eyes with you. In that moment, your gaze held an intensity that could rival the sun itself.

You wanted to hit him, to unleash all the pent-up frustration and anger that had been simmering inside you for years.

Bucky's heart skipped a beat as he realized what was about to happen. He stood frozen in place, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts in the split second before impact.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the distance between the two of you closed rapidly. Bucky closed his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable collision, a rush of adrenaline flooding his veins.

But at the last possible moment, you swerved the car to the side, narrowly avoiding Bucky and his car. The screech of tires filled the air as you skidded to a stop just inches away from him.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared at you, wide-eyed and breathless. The air crackled with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy between you like a dense fog.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the silence stretching taut between you like a drawn bowstring. Then, with a shaky exhale, Bucky took a step back, his gaze never leaving yours.

You flung open the car door with a forceful slam, the sound echoing in the tense atmosphere.

Bucky leaned against his car trunk, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of apprehension and resignation.

"You scared? Clueless? Wonder why I want to hit you?" you seethed, your voice dripping with anger.

Bucky swallowed hard, his throat dry with unease.

"That's how I felt when you and your group bullied me," you continued, your words laced with venom. "I want you to remember that feeling."

As you stormed away, leaving Bucky standing alone by his car, he felt a heavy weight settle in his chest. His arms crossed tightly over his chest, an unconscious attempt to shield himself from the pain of the truth you had just delivered.

"I deserved that," he murmured to himself, his voice barely above a whisper, but each word heavy with regret.

Despite the gravity of the situation, a tiny flicker of admiration sparked within him. "But, damn," he murmured to himself, "that was so cool."

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hottpinkpenguin · 4 months ago

Text

Letting Someone Go - Part 2

Benny Cross X Female Reader A/n: part 1 is here! Word Count: 2014 Warnings: cursing, alcohol use Taglist: @real-lana-del-rey @putherup

Fifteen months. That was all it took for you to find Benny, love him, and lose him. The easy version of your story went like this: it was Kathy Bauer’s fault. Simple as pie, like your mama used to say.

The truth was a lot different. The truth was messy and it hurt a hell of a lot more. Because the truth was that you hadn’t lost Benny at all. To lose something, you have to have it in the first place. And when you were being really honest with yourself, you knew that you never had Benny Cross. You had as much of a claim to him as a kite does to the wind. That was to say, none at all.

You didn’t like the truth. But, you weren’t the kind of girl who could live a lie either. So, you did the only thing you could think of: you ran away. Kathy Bauer’s first night in the Vandals bar was early November, Benny broke it off with you in early December. You spent Christmas drunk and stoned. And by New Years, you were gone.

You thought putting Chicago - and Benny - in the rearview mirror would help. You’d banked on it helping. Running was your only plan. There wasn’t any other choice, really. Sure, some of the Vandals had pitched you on sticking around, club president Johnny among them. Your waitressing pal Sheila had asked you to move in with her, given that you were now two months’ behind on rent without Benny’s side-hustle cash around to help pay the bills. Hell, Cal had even offered you a soft place to land on the left side of his queen sized mattress.

None of those offers had tempted you for even an instant. So, while the rest of America was counting down the final seconds of 1965 from their couches, you were sitting on the back of your fully customized Sportster, driving like a bat out of hell on the back roads leading west out of Chicago. Your only destination was the fuck out of here.

It took you fifteen months to figure out what love was and to lose it again. You weren’t sure how long it was going to take you to do something approximating move on, but you figured it would be a lot longer than fifteen months. And you were right.

***********************

Your phone rang at 3:13am in the morning on September 19th, 1969. The first thing you thought was that your daddy must have finally died. Sonofabitch had been fighting a chainsmoker’s strain of lung cancer for almost six months now, and damn had it been a hard fight. Your mama had actually begged you not to come home and see him. Nothin’ you can do here, baby she said in her soft, sad voice each time you called and asked if you should come home. Your daddy, for his part, couldn’t talk anymore, on account of the laryngectomy the doctors gave him a few weeks prior. He’d declined one of those robotic voice boxes. Figured he’d said all he needed to at this point. Nobody wanted to hear the ramblings of an old biker on death’s door at this point. Especially himself.

But it wasn’t your mama’s voice on the other end. It was Johnny Davis.

“Hey, kid.” Not a question, not a hey, how are ya. It had been almost four years since the last time you’d talked to Johnny. Four years since you’d last seen a Vandals cutte. You wished you could say it had been that long since you’d thought about the club, but that would be a damn lie. Your mind drifted back to a certain handsome blonde-haired blue-eyed biker almost every day.

It took you a minute to place the voice on the other end. It was familiar in the way a dream is familiar, but between the fog of leftover whiskey, a deep sleep, and buried memories, it didn’t come to you quickly.

“Who’s this?” you asked, wiping the tired out of your eyes.

“Oh, uh, well. It’s Johnny.”

There it was.

“Johnny? Johnny Davis?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s me, kid. Listen. How you been?”

You couldn’t help but let out a short, sad chuckle. The easy answer to that question was oh, I been alright Johnny, you? But the truth was something more like, well Johnny, let’s see, since I last saw you in Chicago I’ve been on the road pretty much constantly for four years, running for so long I can’t tell if I’m running to or away from something, much less what that thing is. I’ve picked up about a dozen bad habits, like drinking too much and riding too fast and going home with the first guy who’ll buy me a brew at a bar. Oh, and by the way, my daddy’s dying.

But Johnny didn’t deserve your bitterness. Especially not at 3:14 in the morning.

“You know me, Johnny, I’ve been doin’ just fine. Why’re you callin’ so early?”

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line. An image of Johnny, taking a deep drag on one of those Pall Malls he loved to smoke, came to you in the darkness. In the quiet of his reply, you heard a dense grief. You braced yourself for what you were sure was bad news and flicked on the bedside lamp on your nightstand. Next to you, the latest biker boy of the week stirred grumpily and waved at you to turn the light off. You ignored him, throwing off the covers and dangling your feet over the side of your mattress.

“Well, kid. It’s Brucie.”

Brucie. It took the air out of your lungs. You could have named a half-dozen Vandals you’d expect to kick the bucket before Brucie. Zipco, Wahoo, Corky. Hell, even Johnny himself. And Benny, of course. You couldn’t help but feel the knot in your chest relax an inch to know that Johnny wasn’t calling to tell you that it was Benny. But damnitall, Brucie? Careful, pragmatic, thoughtful Brucie? What the fuck was Gail gonna do?

“Brucie? What the fuck happened?”

Another jagged inhale on the other end. Johnny was crying, you realized. It gutted you.

“Oh, you know. 1967 Pontiac came outta nowhere, you know, just caught him in a bad way. It’s always the ones you don’t see comin’, y’know? Fuckin’ Pontiac.”

“Jesus, Johnny. Brucie? Shit.”

You lit a cigarette of your own as you let your mind wander back to your time in Chicago. Brucie was solid, Johnny’s right-hand man and a kind, gentle sorta guy. You’d liked him instantly, and Gail too. Real good folk.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s been hard, y’know, I mean, club is real beat up over it.”

“Fuck, Johnny, I don’t even know whatta say. I’m so sorry.”

You and Johnny took matching drags and tried to swipe away your tears. The guy in your bed next to you rolled over and fixed you with a bleary-eyed glare. You couldn’t remember his name - Steve, maybe. You covered the receiver with your hand, told him to get the fuck out, and drank down the last swallow of whiskey in the only upright glass on your nightstand.

“Yeah, well, I ‘preciate that, kid, I really do. Listen, we’re havin’ a get together for Brucie. Next weekend. Entire club, all charters gonna be there. Invited a few others, too. Ones that knew Brucie. I know he’d want you there.”

Of all the things Johnny had said to you tonight, this was the one that stole the air from your lungs. Go back to Chicago, to the Vandals? You weren’t sure how you’d do that. Or if you physically could.

“Aw, shit Johnny. I dunno…”

“I know you got history here,” Johnny interrupted quickly. “I know you got… I know you got a lot you’re tryin’ not to come back to. I get it.”

Lots of people might have tried to tell you they understood how you felt. You’d opened up about Benny to a few people since you’d left Chicago. Most people you met on the road were a little bit broken, like you. They were running, just like you, and they weren’t strangers to heartbreak and dead-endings and being fucked over. But, no matter how many times you tried to tell your story, you just never felt like you got it right. So nobody really understood it, because you weren’t sure you did. But Johnny? Johnny didn’t need to hear you tell it. He’d watched it happen. Maybe he really did get it.

Still, was that enough for you to go back? Unsure of what to say, you just stayed silent. Behind you, maybe-Steve was dragging himself out of bed, untangling his clothes from yours, and doing a shitty job of trying to stay quiet.

“You think about it, aight? But I know you’ll come. For Brucie.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Johnny was right. ‘Course you’d go back for Brucie.

“Aight well, I’ll let ya go then. Sorry for wakin’ you up.”

“Johnny, wait.”

He hesitated. “Yeah, kid?”

“How’d you get my number?”

There were about a million questions you wanted to ask Johnny, although you knew yourself enough at this point to know that you wouldn’t want the answers. So you asked the safest one you could think of.

He chuckled softly. “I keep an eye on my friends,” he replied cryptically before he said goodnight again, and the line went dead. You wished you knew what that meant, although just knowing that there was someone out there in the darkness who cared for you enough to go to the trouble of checking in with whatever backwater charters you shacked up with (because realistically that was the only way Johnny would ever be able to keep up with you) made your heart warm.

“Who the fuck was that?” demanded maybe-Steve. He was halfway out the door of the dingy room you’d rented in this roadside motel, hoping you might still ask him to stay.

“Old friend,” you said brusquely as you stood up and threw an old tshirt over your bare chest, heading for the door behind him. “Time for you to hit the road,” you told him by way of invitation, pointing towards his bike in the parking lot.

“It’s fuckin’ 3:30 in the mornin’, you sure I can’t just sleep it off here?”

“Nah, fuck that. Get lost.”

He grimaced and spat thickly on the ground. For an instant you wondered if he was going to give you trouble, but he just shook his head in disgust and left you there to curl up on the rickety plastic chair outside your motel room with plans to chain-smoke until sunrise. You watched him go, his tail light streaking across the long, dark, flat expanse of Iowa farmland until it melted with blackness around it. Your mind was fluttering with all kinds of memories and thoughts that Johnny’s voice had stirred up. Rather than try and fight it, you let yourself sink beneath the surface and zone out, wading through a chapter of your life that you’d deluded yourself into believing was over. The sun had climbed up over the horizon by the time you came back to yourself with a bleak glance around the ramshackle motel. Your Sportster was gleaming like a lighthouse over in the corner of the lot under the only tree around for miles, a huge black walnut that seemed to be holding up its branches and asking the sky to sweep it up and take it away from here. Exactly how you felt.

Unable to fight against yourself anymore, you splashed cold water on your face, tied your hair up, shoved your belongings into the leather saddlebags you’d been living out of for the last four years, and got on the back of your Sportster. As soon as you kickstarted your bike, you knew where you were going. Straight back to Chicago, back to the Vandals, to Benny. Straight back home.

read part 3 here **let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts!

#the bikeriders imagine #the bikeriders #benny cross x reader #benny cross x you #benny cross x y/n #benny cross imagine #bikeriders imagine #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine

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me-loving-woso · 5 months ago

Text

And all the days after that.

Hi everyone! So this is the last part of Today. Tomorrow. I hope you will enjoy this! Let me know what you think about it!

It was night when Aitana first arrived at the hospital. She had multiple missed calls from Ciro, heightening her worry. She quickly approached the nurse at the entrance of the oncology department. “I’m looking for Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Are you a relative or family?” the nurse asked.

“I’m her wife,” Aitana blurted out, the first thing that came to mind. It had a nice ring to it.

“I need an ID.” She handed over her ID.

“A real one, as if I’m supposed to believe you’re actually Aitana Bonmati.” For the first time, the nurse looked up from her computer and stared at Aitana. “Oh, you are actually her! Thank you for all the trophies! Y/L/N is in room 309.”

Aitana sprinted to your room. Peering through the glass walls, she spotted Ciro inside with you. He turned to Aitana and exited your room.

“How is she? Is she sleeping? Is she alive? Is she—”

“Aitana, you’re rambling. You’re sleep-deprived and extremely worried. The surgery went well. The cancer was a bit larger than expected, but they managed to remove it completely.”

“Her voice?”

“We’ll know when she wakes up.” He turned to look at you. “Go inside.”

Aitana nodded and gently opened the door, slipping inside as quietly as possible. You lay in the bed, a pale but peaceful expression on your face. She took a moment to absorb the sight of you, relief flooding her knowing the surgery was successful.

She approached your bedside, her heart aching at the sight of the tubes and monitors attached to you. Gently, she reached out and took your hand in hers, feeling the warmth of your skin. The room was silent, save for the soft beeping of the heart monitor.

Minutes passed like hours as Aitana watched over you, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts. She couldn't shake the fear of what might happen when you woke up, but she also couldn't deny the immense love and admiration she felt for you. You had faced this battle with incredible strength and courage, and she was determined to support you no matter what.

Aitana fell asleep sitting next to you, her head on your lap and your hand in hers.

In the morning, your eyes finally fluttered open. You looked around the room, your gaze eventually landing on Aitana. You squeezed her hand, hoping to wake her up. Her head shot up in discomfort, but as soon as she saw you, she gave you a soft, encouraging smile, squeezing your hand gently.

"Hey, beautiful," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

You tried to speak, but your throat was dry and sore. Aitana quickly reached for a cup of water with a straw and brought it to your lips. You took a few sips, wincing slightly at the discomfort.

"Take it easy," she said softly. "Don't try to talk just yet."

You nodded, understanding. You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, and she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"I'm so proud of you," Aitana continued, her eyes filling with tears. "You did it. You're so strong."

You couldn't speak, so you just caressed her cheeks, letting your eyes convey your feelings.

“I’m going to call the doctor. I’ll be right back.” She kissed your temple and left the room.

A few minutes later, she returned with your oncologist and Ciro in tow. Aitana resumed her place, holding your hand, while the doctor performed your check-ups. Everything seemed fine. The incision on your throat was healing properly. Now came the moment of truth: testing your voice.

Dr. Martinez smiled warmly at you. "You did very well, Y/N. Now, the moment of truth. I want you to try saying something, anything at all."

Aitana's hand squeezed yours reassuringly. You took a deep breath, feeling the slight pull and discomfort from the incision on your throat. Slowly, you tried to form a word, any word, in your mind. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out at first. Fear gripped you, but Aitana's gentle presence gave you strength.

"Don't rush it," Dr. Martinez encouraged softly. "Take your time."

You tried again, focusing on the word "hi." A faint sound, almost like a whisper, escaped your lips. It was weak, but it was there. You saw the relief and joy in Aitana's eyes as she held your hand tighter.

"That's great, Y/N," Dr. Martinez said, smiling. "It's a good sign that you can make any sound at all. With time and practice, your voice should improve."

Tears welled up in your eyes. You managed to croak out a hoarse "thank you," barely more than a whisper, but it was enough. Aitana leaned in and kissed you softly, her eyes shining with pride and love.

"We'll work on this together," she whispered. "Every step of the way."

Ciro, standing nearby, gave you a thumbs-up and a supportive smile. "You're a fighter, Y/N. We're all here for you."

Dr. Martinez finished his check-up and gave you some instructions for your recovery. "You'll need to rest your voice as much as possible, but I want you to practice speaking a little bit each day."

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and determination. You were ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing you had the unwavering support of the people you loved.

As Dr. Martinez left the room, Aitana stayed by your side, her hand never leaving yours. She sat back down, her eyes never wavering from yours. The room fell into a comfortable silence, both of you just soaking in the relief and the promise of a future together.

"You did great," Aitana said softly, her thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. "I knew you could do it."

You squeezed her hand in return, a small smile forming on your lips. "Thanks for being here," you managed to whisper, though it was strained and barely audible.

Aitana's eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "I wouldn't be anywhere else," she replied, her voice thick with emotion.

The hours passed quietly. Occasionally, Aitana would read to you from her phone, recounting funny anecdotes from her teammates to keep your spirits up. You communicated with nods, gestures, and the occasional whisper, growing more confident with each passing attempt.

When night fell, the hospital room was bathed in darkness. Aitana was preparing to sleep uncomfortably in the chair next to you once again. You took her phone from her and typed: 'Go home.'

“I’m not leaving until you are leaving.” She was stubborn, and you didn’t have the strength to fight back.

You made space for her on the bed and typed on her phone, 'Cuddles?'

“You know I’ll never say no to that.” She slowly sat on the small bed and rested by your side, planting a kiss on your clothed shoulder.

“Thank you,” you barely whispered.

The next morning, you woke up to find Aitana still by your side, her hand still holding yours. You reached out with your free hand and gently brushed a lock of hair away from her face. She stirred and woke up, her eyes meeting yours with a sleepy but affectionate smile.

"Good morning," she whispered, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "How are you feeling?"

You nodded, managing a soft, "Better." Your voice was still weak, but the improvement was noticeable.

Aitana's smile widened. "That's great to hear. Today’s a new day, and we'll take it one step at a time."

That morning you started doing some speaking and breathing exercises to help your vocal chords to fully heal, which you didn’t think would be difficult since you never had any problem talking. Needless to say, it was more challenging than expected. It felt as if you had to learn to talk all over again.

Aitana’s unwavering support was frustrating at times. You tried not to take your frustration out on her, but sometimes it was difficult. Thankfully, as the days went by, your voice gradually began to improve.

Progress was slow but steady, with Aitana's constant encouragement helping you push through the tough moments. She celebrated every milestone with you, no matter how small—whether it was successfully pronouncing a tricky word or managing a full sentence without pain, she was there, cheering you on.

You remembered perfectly the day you spoke to your oncologist before checking out of the hospital.

Aitana and Ciro were having breakfast, leaving you alone for one of the few times. As you changed back into your normal clothes, the doctor walked into the room.

“Y/N, how are you?”

“I’m good, thanks to you,” you replied, smiling gratefully as you sat down on the bed to tie your shoes.

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I think it’s best if we do another round of chemo, just to be sure. We completely removed the tumor, but that doesn’t mean all the cancer cells are gone.”

Your heart sank a little. You had hoped the surgery would be the end of it. “Another round?”

“Yes, I recommend it to ensure we’ve eradicated any remaining cancer cells. It’s a precautionary measure, but it’s important.”

You nodded, taking in the information. “Okay. How long will the next round be?”

“About six weeks. By April, you should be done with everything, but we’ll monitor you closely. If all goes well, this could be the last step in your treatment.”

You took a deep breath, nodding again. “Alright, let’s do it. I’ll talk to Aitana and Ciro.”

The doctor gave you a reassuring smile. “You’re strong, Y/N. You’ve come this far, and you’re going to get through this.”

As you walked out of the room, you saw Aitana and Ciro in the cafeteria. They both looked up, concern etching their faces as they saw your serious expression. You sat down with them, taking Aitana’s hand in yours.

“Ready to go? I can't wait to go home.” You sat next to Aitana and silently asked if you could take a sip of her matcha.

“Did you talk to the doctor?” Aitana asked.

“Yes, I did,” you replied, savoring the comforting taste of the matcha. “There’s something we need to discuss.”

Aitana and Ciro both leaned in, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity.

“The doctor wants me to do another round of chemo,” you began, feeling the weight of the news settle in. “It’s just to make sure we’ve got all the cancer cells. They said it should be about six weeks. By April, I should be done with everything.”

Aitana’s eyes widened slightly, but she quickly composed herself. “Whatever it takes to make sure you’re okay,” she said, her voice steady though her expression turned somber.

The drive home was filled with a mixture of quiet contemplation and light conversation. Aitana and Ciro did their best to keep the mood light, discussing their plans for the next few weeks and how they would help you through this next phase of treatment.

When you arrived home, Aitana helped you settle in, taking your things to the bedroom and folding your clothes neatly into a pile, while you complained that she wouldn’t let you do anything.

“I’m not on the verge of dying Tani! I can do some stuff.”

“I know, I know,” Aitana replied, smiling gently. “But let me pamper you a little, okay? It makes me feel better too.”

You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t help the warmth spreading in your chest. Her care was both endearing and comforting.

Once everything was settled, Ciro left for the men's game at Montjuic, leaving you and Aitana alone for the first time in a while.

You knew she had missed some practice sessions and two games to be with you during chemo and surgery. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that she was missing out on her best years to be with you.

As you sat together on the couch, you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. The TV was on, but you weren't really watching it. Instead, you found yourself lost in thought, glancing occasionally at Aitana, who seemed perfectly content just being by your side.

“Will you promise me something?”

“Anything.” Her gaze softened as she looked at you.

“You won’t miss any more games because of me.”

“I only missed two games, and it wasn’t a big deal. I wouldn't have played anyway, and I got to stay with you.” She shrugged happily.

“But football is your life. I understand you want to support me, but you should focus on your career.”

Aitana sighed, her thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “Y/N. You’re my partner. I know these months have been hard, especially for you, but I’ve never been happier than when I’m by your side.”

You could see the sincerity in her eyes, but the guilt still lingered. “I don’t want you to put your life on hold for me. I don’t want you to look back and regret missing opportunities because of me.”

She smiled softly, her eyes twinkling. “I won’t regret it. Being here for you is something I’ll never regret. We’ve known each other for what... six months? And yet, from the first moment I saw you... okay, maybe the second time... I knew I wanted you in my life. Football shouldn’t be my only priority; I should also take time for myself. I would miss an entire season if it meant being able to be with you. I love you, Cari.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, overwhelmed by her words and the depth of her commitment. “I love you too, Tani. I just don’t want to hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back,” she said, her voice firm and tender. “You make me better, happier, and... honestly, I couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend.”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “Thank you for being here, for loving me.”

Aitana leaned in and kissed you gently, her lips warm and reassuring. “Always, Cari. Today. Tomorrow. The day after tomorrow. And all the days after that.”

---

Two weeks into chemo, the treatments hit you hard. You started throwing up more and couldn’t walk more than ten steps without feeling pain.

Aitana had started the busiest period of the season, so she was often away. Thankfully, Ciro, Eva, and your other friends from work were great. They stayed with you during treatments and always brought a smile to your face.

One evening, after a particularly tough day, you were lying on the couch, feeling utterly exhausted. Eva was beside you, scrolling through her phone, while Ciro was in the kitchen making tea.

“Hey, look at this,” Eva said, nudging you gently. She showed you a photo of a Bernese puppy. It was adorable, and you couldn’t help but smile, even though you felt like crap.

“That’s cute,” you said weakly.

“He kinda looks like Ares when he was a puppy!” she exclaimed excitedly, showing you the picture again. Ares had been your childhood dog. You’d always had big dogs in your home; since he passed, you hadn’t thought about getting another one.

Just then, the front door opened, and Aitana walked in. Her face lit up when she saw you, but you could see the worry in her eyes.

“Hey, Cari,” she said, coming over to give you a gentle hug. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” you admitted, trying to keep your tone light.

Aitana sat down beside you, taking your hand in hers, you immediately leaned into her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here earlier. Training ran late.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured her. “I’m glad you’re here now.”

Ciro came in with the tea and handed you a cup. “Here you go. Chamomile, to help you relax.”

“Thanks, Ciro,” you said, grateful for his support.

The four of you sat together, chatting and trying to keep the mood light. Aitana was just content to be able to listen to you and Eva joking about adopting the puppy from the photo.

“So when I ask you to adopt a puppy, you say no, but when Eva showed you a puppy picture, you immediately said yes?” Aitana pouted, crossing her arms childishly.

“Eva was only joking! And honestly, as much as I love dogs, we don’t have the space nor the time for a puppy. And you can’t even take care of yourself! I need to remind you of everything!”

Aitana pouted even more dramatically, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “I can totally take care of myself! I just like you reminding me of things because it means you care.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

Eva laughed, enjoying the banter between you two. “Well, if you ever change your mind about the puppy, let me know. I know someone.” She winked.

Needless to say, you didn’t change your mind about the puppy thing.

---

Your last chemo had been really emotional for you. It was April, and all of your friends, Ciro and Aitana were busy, so you were alone. As you sat in the treatment room, the familiar hum of machines and the sterile smell of the hospital enveloped you. The nurses, who had become like family to you over these past months, tried to lift your spirits with their kind words and warm smiles.

As the session progressed, you couldn’t help but reflect on everything you had been through. The fear, the pain, the moments of despair, but also the love, the support, and the small victories that had kept you going. Tears welled up in your eyes, a mix of relief and exhaustion washing over you. You were almost at the end of this grueling journey, but the emotions were overwhelming.

Just as you were about to succumb to the loneliness, your phone buzzed. It was a video call from Aitana. You quickly wiped your tears and answered.

“Hey, Cari,” she greeted you, her face lighting up the screen. She was walking outside in the parking lot of the training grounds. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there with you today. How are you holding up?”

“I’m good. I just want to get this over with. How was training? You ready for Chelsea?”

“Definitely. I cannot wait for another Champion’s League night. They are the best.” She got inside the car.

“Where are you going now?”

“To see you,” she said as if it was the most obvious answer.

You rolled your eyes at her, knowing not to argue. “I’ll see you in ten minutes then.”

In those ten minutes, you had finished your chemotherapy and went with your oncologists to do your last tests to check if you still had cancer. Unfortunately, you would know the results of the tests this afternoon.

You were done very quickly, so you told Aitana to wait for you in the parking lot.

As you walked out of the hospital, the sun was shining brightly, a stark contrast to the anxiety that weighed heavily on your shoulders. You spotted Aitana's car and saw her standing outside, leaning against it with a concerned expression on her face.

“I hate when you are concerned; your face scrunches up in a weird way.” You walked up to her and snaked your hands around her waist for a hug. Her face softened as she held you tighter.

“Cari, how are you feeling?” She pulled down affectionately your beanie, which was hers, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You were about to tell her that you would know if your cancer was receding this afternoon, but you opted not to, as you didn’t want to give her false hopes. “I’m good. What do you think about doing something different this afternoon? We always stay at home.”

“Well, if you want, Ingrid, Mapi, Frido, and Esmee are all going to this new art exhibit downtown. They needed to go because the artist is the daughter of one of our sponsors, so we are basically forced to go.” Aitana suggested, her eyes lighting up. “We could join them. It might be a nice change of pace.”

You turned to her, raising an eyebrow, “Why didn’t you go, if you were forced to?”

“I wanted to stay with my Cari.” You raised your eyebrow even more skeptically, “Okay, I didn’t want to go. But my friends have been bugging me nonstop about me going; the artist is so annoying and so-“

“You played the ‘my girlfriend has cancer’ card?” You chuckled.

“Am I an asshole if I did?”

“Just remember that your girlfriend might not have cancer in the near future, so you’ll have to come up with another excuse.”

“Well, I’ll just force you to come with me to keep me company.”

You rolled your eyes, “We’ll see about that.”

In the car, Aitana quickly called Mapi to explain that you were coming too.

When you arrived, you were greeted by Aitana’s friends, who were excited to see you out and about.

They all hugged you gently, making you go on your tippy toes, to hug them back. As you all walked inside the art exhibition, you took Aitana’s hand and waited for the group to move forward. “You really have to explain your thing for tall women to me,” you whispered teasingly.

“I don’t have a thing for tall women, otherwise I wouldn’t be dating you,” she smirked playfully, earning a playful smack on the arm from you.

“All of your friends are at least five centimeters taller than you.”

“Yeah, it’s true.” She couldn’t deny what you were saying, but she didn't give any further explanations.

As soon as you saw the paintings, you already knew it was going to be a very lackluster art exhibition. It was really bad, but somehow they felt oddly familiar.

“It’s so beautiful!” Mapi said ironically.

“I just don’t understand if the artist is actually that bad or if it’s just her artistic vision,” Esmee wondered aloud, trying to make sense of it.

You looked into another room of the exhibition and saw a painting that you had already seen. You turned to Aitana’s friends and chuckled, “The artist is just really bad, believe me. And let’s just hope that I don’t have to see her.”

Isabel Vallejo went to Uni with you, and you couldn’t stand each other; you always had a very competitive and passive-aggressive relationship. Eva would always have a good laugh when you both saw each other. You immediately texted her to tell her.

“Do you know her?”

“We went to uni together. We never got along.”

As if on cue, Isabel walked into the room, her eyes widening slightly when she saw you. She quickly masked her surprise with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Y/N, what a surprise to see you here. I didn’t expect to see you in a place this refined.”

You forced a smile. “Isabel, it’s been a while. I see you’re still making... bold choices.”

“Art needs boldness. At least I create something. You just apply some product to some painting and call it a day.”

You were about to speak when Aitana grabbed your hand, trying to calm you down. Isabel lowered her gaze to look at both of your hands and smirked, “You have a cute girlfriend, best footballer in the world. I hope you keep her satisfied, or else she might be looking elsewhere.”

“Yeah, I do keep her well satisfied, just like I did with Maria, remember?” You smirked, fully knowing that your words would bother her. You simply walked away and returned to your group with Aitana. Round 1 was won by you.

“What the hell just happened?” Mapi chuckled, looking at you.

“We went to Uni together; we always talk like this.”

“I didn’t know you had this in you, Cari. You are always so polite,” Aitana chuckled, making you turn to her.

“She’s so annoying, makes me want to punch her,” you sighed, frustrated.

“Who’s Maria, by the way?” Ingrid asked you, making you blush lightly.

“We dated the same girl; she broke up with Isabel to be with me. She didn’t take it that well.” Your face reddened. “And that’s not the worst part. We lived next to each other, so whenever Maria visited me, Isabel could hear everything.”

Mapi and Ingrid burst into laughter, and even Aitana couldn't help but giggle. “No wonder she’s still bitter,” Mapi said, shaking her head.

“I never thought I’d see the day Y/N had a love triangle scandal,” Aitana teased, nudging you playfully.

“You know what’s the worst thing?… I don’t regret it!”

“Wooo!” You made Aitana’s friend group burst out laughing.

After the art exhibition, you all decided to get coffee at a place nearby. While you were walking to the coffee shop, you got a phone call. You had forgotten that your doctor needed to call you that afternoon. You stopped in your tracks.

“Tani, can you take my order? I have to take this.”

“Is everything okay?” Her face scrunched up.

You placed a hand on her chest and kissed her reassuringly. “Go inside.” She nodded reluctantly, and you watched her join the others before answering the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Y/N, it’s Dr. Martinez. I have your test results.”

You felt your heart race, a mix of anticipation and fear swirling inside you. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“I have good news,” Dr. Martinez said, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice. “Your tests came back clear. There are no signs of cancer.”

A wave of relief washed over you, and you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Thank you, Dr. Martinez. Thank you so much.”

“You’ve been through a lot, Y/N. Take this time to recover and enjoy your life. We’ll continue with regular check-ups, but for now, celebrate this victory.”

“I will. Thank you again.”

You ended the call and stood there for a moment, letting the news sink in. You were cancer-free.

You didn’t know why, but you burst out laughing. After six months, you were finally free.

After taking your order, Aitana quickly instructed Mapi to take the two machas to the table and wait for them. Then she rushed outside to check up on you. You had just finished your phone call.

“Cari, is everything okay?”

“I’m cancer-free.”

Her eyes widened. “You are not joking, are you?” You shook your head.

“We are done, Tani.” She quickly wrapped you in an embrace, lifting you up in the air, making you giggle.

“You don’t know how happy it makes me!” She put you down, still hugging you, placing her forehead on your shoulder. You felt her shaking, so you gently pushed her away to look at her. It was the first time you had actually seen her cry.

“Don’t cry, meu amor. We did it.” You wiped her tears with your thumbs.

“They are happy tears. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“I love you, Tani. Today. Tomorrow.”

“The day after tomorrow. And all the days after that.” She finished the sentence for you.

You hugged her once again and then went inside the coffee shop, sitting next to your girlfriend. She wouldn’t take her eyes off you, giving you a lovesick look that made her teammates give her a disgusted look.

“Stop it, Aitana.” You poked your finger in her ear, making her snap out of her daze.

“Sorry. I’m just happy.”

“We just got some good news, and Aitana can’t act like a normal functioning adult.” You teased her. “I’m officially cancer-free.”

“Oh my god! I’m so happy for you!” Frido rounded the table to hug you, spurring the others to do the same thing.

You stayed with them for about another ten minutes before you remembered that you had to tell Ciro about the news, so Aitana offered to bring you home.

As soon as you saw Ciro and told him the news, he brought you in a big bear hug and didn’t let you go until he spurred Aitana to join the hug.

The next few weeks ahead, you started having more energy. You had lost a lot of weight when you had cancer, so with the advice of the doctor, you started going to the gym.

At first, you went with Eva, but then you figured out that you two didn’t work well as ‘gym bros’. So you tried going with Aitana, thinking that since she was already fit, she would give you motivation to push yourself. That didn’t work either.

Seeing your girlfriend with just a sports bra and some Nike shorts did things to you that wouldn’t make you focus. You thought about those thighs and shoulders way too much. Finding some excuse, you then told Aitana that you didn’t want to go to the gym with her anymore. She was sad, but after some coaxing, which meant a lot of kisses, she eventually agreed to help find someone else.

You were out for drinks with Aitana’s teammates when you were secretly having a cigarette with Alexia, and this topic surfaced.

"So I am trying to find someone to go to the gym with," you explained, taking a drag from your cigarette. “My best friend just goes to the gym to talk with people, so I tried with Aitana-”

“Never go to the gym with your girlfriend, you just don’t focus. I learned that the hard way.” She explained with a sheepish smile, making you nod in agreement. “Besides all that, I’m glad that you can get back to your normal life. You deserve it.”

“Thank you, Reina. It means a lot coming from you.” You nudged her teasingly, earning an eye roll from her.

“I might know someone who would love to go to the gym with you. She’s not a footballer, nor into any other sport.”

Intrigued, you leaned in closer. "Oh? Who?”

“Olga, my girlfriend. She loves meeting new people and her gym buddy just moved out. If you want, I can ask her.” You could see Alexia’s eyes sparkle when she talked about Olga. You wondered if you did the same thing when you talked about your Tani. Spoiler alert: You did.

“If it’s not a problem for you, I would love to.”

“Well, she should be here any moment. I’ll ask her when she arrives.”

As you and Alexia continued to chat, you felt a mix of excitement and relief. Finding the right gym partner was crucial for keeping your motivation high and ensuring you stayed on track with your fitness goals.

Just as you were about to take another drag from your cigarette, you saw Alexia's face light up. "Oh, there she is!" she exclaimed, waving enthusiastically.

You turned to see a woman approaching, her warm smile immediately putting you at ease. "Olga, this is my friend, Y/n, and also Aitana’s girlfriend." Alexia introduced you. "We were just talking about how you're looking for a new gym buddy."

Olga's smile widened. “Ale told me a lot about you!”

“Good things I hope.”

“Besides the fact that you both only smoke when the other one is around, she’s been saying only good stuff.” You hid your face in embarrassment, tossing the cigarette away with embarrassed.

"Hey, it's a social thing," Alexia said, trying to laugh it off.

Olga chuckled. “It’s not good for you, but you my girl, are one stubborn woman, so I won’t tell you what to do.” She said exasperated, they looked so cute, like a married couple almost. “So, do you want a gym buddy?” She turned to you again.

"Yeah, if you are up to it. I’m kinda out of shape, so I don’t want to stop you from having a good work out,” you replied.

“Don’t worry about it, Ale told me about your situation and I'm happy to help. We'll take it at your pace and make sure you get back into shape without overdoing it," Olga reassured you with a warm smile.

"Thanks, Olga. I really appreciate it," you said, feeling more at ease. "When do you usually go to the gym?"

"I usually go in the mornings, but I can be flexible. How about we start tomorrow morning and see how it goes?" Olga suggested.

"Sounds perfect," you agreed, feeling a surge of motivation.

The next day when you came back from the gym, you decided to go to Aitana’s house, since it was one of the few off days she had.

She was sitting on the couch intently reading a book when you entered her home with the pair of keys she had given you a couple of weeks before. As soon as she saw you enter, she put away her book and walked up to you, greeting you with a kiss.

“Hi, Cari, how was the gym?”

You huffed and sat down on the couch, waiting for her to join you. “I didn’t know that Olga was that shredded?! She looks like she goes to the gym every day!”

“I thought you knew that,” Aitana said, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I didn’t know! I found out later. By the way, she’s so nice and positive, but it’s so frustrating doing exercises with her! We were doing some arm exercises, and when we were done, she started to flex her arms and spurred me on to do it too. Her arms were so muscly, but when I did it: MY ARMS WERE JUST FLAT.” You pulled up your sleeve and showed her, your bicep almost non-existent.

Aitana burst out laughing. You gave her a glare while crossing your arms and pouting, which only made her laugh harder.

She eventually stopped laughing and tried to turn serious, but a playful smile still lingered on her lips. She maneuvered your body to make you sit on her lap. “In fact, I happen to love your flat arms. They might not fend off any enemies, but I do love them, just like I love every part of you. And you’ve lost a lot of mass in these months. It’s okay to feel a little weak, ya know.”

You sighed, leaning into her. “I know, I know. It’s just frustrating sometimes.”

Aitana kissed your temple. “You’re doing amazing, and I’m so proud of you. Remember, it’s not about how you look but how far you’ve come and where you’re going. You're taking back your life in your own hands, and that should be your biggest priority right now.”

“I know, I know.”

“But if you don’t like going to the gym with her, you can still come with me. I still don’t know why you don’t want to.”

You blush lightly, making Aitana turn her head curiously. “I don’t want to go to the gym with you.”

“Do I make you feel uncomfortable?”

“No no, you could never. You are always so focused and let’s just say that you distract me.” You whispered the last part embarrassed.

Aitana raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Oh, I distract you, do I?" she teased, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

You buried your face in her shoulder, muttering, "Yes, okay? You're too attractive, and it’s impossible to focus on anything else. Do you like hearing that?”

She laughed softly, stroking your hair. “Oh, I love it! Well, I can't help being irresistibly distracting. And you’ve never seen me naked…”

“Aren’t we cocky this afternoon?”

Aitana laughed again, a warm sound that made your heart flutter. “Maybe a little,” she admitted, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “But I can’t help it if my girlfriend finds me irresistible.”

You raise your eyebrow, “Well then I’ll let you in on a small secret.” You began kissing her neck where you knew she loved it, “When my woman gets too cocky, I like to put her back into her place.”

Aitana's eyes sparkled with curiosity and mischief, her smile never fading. "And how do you plan to do that?" she asked, her voice a playful challenge.

You stopped kissing her neck and looked into her eyes, a smirk playing on your lips. "Well, I have my ways," you said, your tone teasing. "But it usually starts with making sure she's completely focused on me.” You placed a finger under her chin and slightly lift her head to look at you.

“And when I have her full attention, I’d want to kiss her until I know that she doesn’t think she’s in control anymore.” She smirked not fully believing what you were telling her. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll never wear that cocky grin ever again.”

You pressed your lips onto hers into a passionate kiss. As the seconds went by, the kiss became more impatient and sloppy. Her hands went inside your shirt, feeling your skin in an attempt to make you get even closer to her. You could feel that she was getting lost in the moment, so you immediately stopped, biting her lower lip in the process. She had her eyes still closed, then she blocked twice screeching up her nose. “Why did you stop?”

You stood up from her lap and offered your hand. She took it, and you led her to her bedroom. You began to kiss her once again, aching slow, trying to appreciate every second with her, as if she would disappear the next second.

You grabbed the hems of her shirt, trying to take it off from her. You reached her chest level, when she stopped you.

“Wait. Wait, Cari.” You removed yourself from her, giving her a questioning look. “Cari, are you sure you want to do this? It’s a big deal.” You nodded, smiling that she took a moment just to double-check if you were ready.

“I’m sure, Tani.” She took her shirt off then proceeded to sit on the bed, pulling you to her. She helped you take off your shirt and you immediately felt her hands on your naked waist, caressing soothingly your skin, she then quickly placed an affectionate kiss on the middle of your chest, then lifted her head up to look at you.

“You are so beautiful. I can’t believe how I got so lucky with you.”

“I’m the lucky one.” You pushed her on the bed, beginning to kiss her on the lips at first. Then you moved to her neck, taking your sweet time to feel each and every moan she would grant you, satisfied you began to trace a line of kisses in the middle of her chest to her toned stomach.

As you reached the hem of her sweatpants, you lifted your head to look at her, silently asking her for consent, which she immediately granted. You quickly took them off leaving two sweet kisses on each thigh before she nudged you to get on her level, bringing you into another searing kiss.

She unexpectedly flipped you over, placing her right thigh in between your legs, eliciting a silent moan from you as she increased the pressure of her leg on your center. You felt as if you had too many layers of clothes between the two of you, so you took matters into your own accords and lifted your pants off yourself. By doing that, you quickly moved slightly on your side, eliciting a curious look from Aitana.

You were about to lie down again on your back when she stopped you, holding you in place and focusing on your butt. “Is this the famous third tattoo you weren’t so keen on telling me about?” She placed a kiss on top of it before helping you to lie back down.

“A little heart,” you said innocently.

“Don’t act all innocent. There's nothing innocent about you, especially when you're barely clothed and silently begging me to touch you.”

“Stop talking dirty and put those words into action.” You impatiently brought her lips to yours, feeling the smirk underlying her already swollen lips.

That morning, you woke up with a pleasant ache between your legs and an arm holding you down. Aitana probably sensed that you were awake because you felt her arm tighten around you, accompanied by a small contented moan.

“Bon dia, Cari. How are you feeling?” She finally spoke, her voice still raspy from sleep.

You opened your eyes and turned to your side to better look at her. “I feel amazing! Last night was…” You struggled to find the words to describe the experience. It was amazing. Aitana had taken care of you in a way that nobody ever had before. You hoped that she enjoyed it as much as you did.

“Last night was amazing, cari. You are just incredible. There’s nothing I would love more than to lay in bed with you all day, but I do have to leave for training in half an hour.”

You sighed loudly, feeling a pang of disappointment. Though you understood it was her job, you hated the fact that she didn’t have a fixed schedule and was always on the go. “And you, Cari, you start working again! How do you feel?”

“I’m a little nervous, but I’m so happy! It’s going to be like a really hard job, but I’m excited!”

“It’s the Templo del Sagrado Corazon de Jesus, right?”

“Yep, some students from Barcelona Uni will be there to help me out, so I’ll never hear the end of their incessant questions.”

“I think it’s cute. They look up to you, Cari.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “Yeah, I guess it’s kind of flattering.”

“You’ll be great. Returning to do what you love, it’s one of the best feelings ever. You’ll be great.” She reassured you.

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “Thanks for always believing in me.”

“Always,” she whispered, kissing you back gently. “Now, let’s make the most of the next thirty minutes.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around her. “I like the sound of that.”

The next half-hour passed in a blissful blur of kisses, laughter, and whispered words of love. When it was finally time for Aitana to leave for training, you felt a pang of sadness but also a surge of determination.

As you got ready for your first day back at work, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of nerves and excitement. The Templo del Sagrado Corazon de Jesus was a monumental project, and you were eager to dive back into your passion. You thought there wasn’t a better way to return to work.

As you made your way to the church, you noticed a house for sale. You felt drawn to it for some reason. It was a pretty normal house, with a big garden. You couldn’t help but picture yourself calling it home one day. You quickly pushed the thought aside, trying to focus on your job.

“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your stomach. “I’m Y/N, and I’ll be guiding you through this restoration project. Let’s get started, shall we?”

The students gathered around, notebooks and tablets at the ready. You launched into an explanation of the project, detailing the history of the church and the specific techniques you’d be using to restore its intricate details. The students listened intently, occasionally jotting down notes or asking questions.

As the day progressed, you found yourself slipping back into your old rhythm. You felt at peace. After six months of hell, you were finally back to your old life, doing what you loved most. Thankfully, the students didn’t get in your way too much. Many of them were still afraid of touching any artwork for fear of ruining it, which was something you reassured them would go away with time. You remembered your uni days and how curious you were when you first started this job.

As the day drew to a close, you were both exhausted and exhilarated. Driving home along the familiar route to Aitana’s place, your gaze was once again drawn to that house.

It seemed there was an open day to showcase the property to potential buyers. Unsure if it was mere curiosity or something deeper, you felt compelled to pull over. Parking the car, you walked up the path to the house, a mix of excitement and apprehension swirling within you.

The open house was abuzz with activity; real estate agents engaged in conversation with prospective buyers, and families wandered through the rooms.

Stepping inside, you were immediately struck by the warmth and charm of the place. The living room boasted large windows that flooded the space with light, while the wooden floors exuded a cozy ambiance. You could envision yourself and Aitana unwinding here after a long day, perhaps even hosting dinners with friends.

A real estate agent approached you with a welcoming smile. “Hello! Are you interested in the house?”

“I’m just looking,” you replied, still taking in the details. “It’s a beautiful place.”

“It really is,” she agreed. “Would you like a tour?”

“Sure, why not,” you said, feeling more curious than ever.

The agent guided you through the house, highlighting its features and potential. The kitchen was spacious and modern, ideal for cooking together or entertaining guests. The bedrooms were well-appointed, and the master bedroom offered a picturesque view of the garden. There was even a small study that could double as a workspace, which caught your eye.

As you strolled through the garden, your mind raced with possibilities. Aitana could train here, and perhaps you could finally fulfill your dream of getting a dog.

“What do you think?” the agent inquired as you completed the tour.

“I think it’s a place where you can build a life,” you replied with a smile, still envisioning yourself there.

“The owners are an elderly couple; their children have families of their own now, and they’re looking to downsize. They’d be open to renting the property for a few years if you’re not ready to buy outright.”

“I’ll need to discuss it with my partner.”

“Take your time to think it over. The owners are discerning, but this is a rare opportunity. Properties like this don’t come around often in Barcelona, especially at this price.”

“I understand…”

The agent handed you a brochure with all the details. “Feel free to reach out if you have any questions or want to arrange another visit.”

You thanked her and left the house, your mind buzzing with possibilities. Driving back to Aitana’s place, you couldn’t wait to share the news with her and gauge her reaction. Perhaps it was time to start thinking about the future, to contemplate what life could look like once you fully recovered.

Upon arriving home, Aitana greeted you with a warm smile and open arms. “How was your day, Cari?”

“It was amazing,” you said, enveloping her in a hug. However, thoughts of the house lingered in your mind, and Aitana soon noticed your preoccupation.

“What’s on your mind, Cari? You have that look like you’re holding onto a secret.”

Blushing lightly, you took her hands. “I’d love to talk to you about something, but I think it’s better if we have dinner first.”

Aitana ordered takeout pizza while you set the table, and over dinner, you both shared highlights from your day, carefully omitting any mention of the house.

“Have you ever thought about changing places?” you asked, catching her off guard. She blinked, puzzled by the unexpected question. Closing her book, she pinned the page and considered your question. “Well, I suppose I’ve never had a reason to move out. Don’t you like it here?”

“I love your place, Tani, but after everything with my cancer, I’ve been thinking about the future, you know?” You broached the difficult conversation with caution.

Aitana’s expression softened as she sat up, giving you her full attention. “I’ve been thinking about it too. These past six months have really got me thinking about the road ahead for us.”

“We’ve only been together for six months. Do you think we’re moving too fast?”

“Maybe we are, but the intensity of our experiences in these months—most couples don’t experience that in a lifetime or years of being together. We just… fit, you know?”

“I do. I feel like we’re meant to be. Mi media naranja. Plus we’ve gone through worse, I think we can handle moving in together.” You spoke sweetly, taking her hands. “I saw this house while driving to work today. It had a big garden, and I could see us living there. It’s close to both our jobs and has plenty of space.”

“Was it for sale?”

“Yes, I went inside. I couldn’t resist. It felt like a place where we could truly build a life together. I can’t quite explain it.”

“I understand,” she said, nodding in agreement.

“It may sound silly, but I’d like for us to have a place together. We don't have to buy a home right away, we could rent it for a while until we’re sure. I know it’s a big step, but it feels right for us.”

“So, are you asking me to move in with you, Y/n Y/ln?” she teased.

“Yes, meu amor. You don’t have to give me an answer right away, but could you think about it?” You replied earnestly.

She leaped into your arms, causing you to fall back onto the couch as she showered you with excited kisses. “I’ve already thought about it, Y/N! Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!”

Laughing, you held her close, feeling her enthusiasm infecting you. “Really? You’re sure?”

“Absolutely,” she affirmed, pulling back to meet your gaze. “There’s no one else I’d rather do this with. I love you, Cari. Today. Tomorrow. The day after tomorrow. And all the days after that.”

“I love you too, Tani. Today. Tomorrow. The day after tomorrow. And all the days after that,” you echoed.

The next morning, before heading to work, you called the real estate agent to schedule a visit to the house. She mentioned that the owners would be there, which made you a bit nervous.

Throughout the day, you and Aitana exchanged excited messages, discussing the possibilities and envisioning your future together in the new home. Finally, the time came for the visit. You arrived first, your heart pounding with anticipation. Aitana arrived shortly after, her smile reassuring you as you walked in together.

As you toured the house, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging. The owners, an older couple, shared stories of their own experiences and the happiness the house had brought them.

Leaving the house, you and Aitana agreed to give them a response by the end of the week. You explored other options, but none felt quite right. In the end, you both knew—the house with the garden, the rooms, the overall atmosphere—was meant to be yours. By the end of the week, you made the call, and when Aitana hung up with a wide smile, you knew your future together was just beginning.

“It’s ours,” she said, her eyes shining with excitement. “We’ll have to wait in the summer, but it’s ours Cari.”

It was the end of April, and you were secretly in England for the second leg of the Champions League semi final. Barcelona was set to face Chelsea, 1-0 down on aggregate.

Aitana had been furious after the first leg; losing at home was something she despised. She couldn’t sleep that night, replaying the game over and over, until you finally had to snatch the TV remote from her grasp. Her mind was flooded with what-ifs, and she took the blame for everything.

Convincing her otherwise had been a struggle, but after a heated argument, you managed to help her see that the burden didn’t fall solely on her shoulders. She finally fell asleep, and the next day she woke up with a renewed sense of determination and confidence, ready to give her all in the next leg.

Initially, you told her you couldn’t come to the game because of work—the church you were restoring had been more demanding than you anticipated. However, with the help of a friend, you managed to finish the job earlier than expected and make your way to England. You wanted your presence to be a surprise.

You arrived at the stadium early, your heart racing with excitement and nerves. The atmosphere was electric, the fans buzzing with anticipation. You found your seat among the Barcelona supporters with Eva, hoping to blend in and not draw attention to yourself.

As the players warmed up on the field, you spotted Aitana. She looked focused, every bit the determined athlete ready to make a comeback. Your heart swelled with pride and love as you watched her.

When the match started, you were on the edge of your seat. Every pass, every tackle, every shot at goal had you holding your breath. Barcelona was playing with a fire you hadn’t seen in a while, and Aitana was at the heart of it all, directing play, making key passes, and encouraging her teammates.

Then, before halftime, Barcelona equalized on aggregate with with Aitana’s goal. She celebrated the goal by kissing the wrist in which she had your bracelet on, making your heart skip a beat, Eva teased you endlessly when she saw your expression full of pride and love.

The roar from the fans was deafening, and you couldn’t help but join in the celebration. You saw Aitana glance up at the stands, her eyes scanning the crowd, and for a brief moment, you thought she might spot you. But she quickly refocused on the game.

The second half was even harder for Barcelona, thankfully they were able to seal the game with Rölfo’s penalty.

You did have a jump scare, when they took off Aitana, and she acted like she needed a stretcher. You began to worry as you thought that she got injured, but then you saw her run to give a high five to Alexia, making you chuckle lightly. You loved that girl so much.

When the final whistle blew, you quickly ran to where the fans were asking for the autograph near the pitch, patiently waiting for Aitana to round the Barcelona part of the stadium thanking the fans.

As soon as she reached you, her face lit up with one of her biggest smiles as she sprinted over.

“Can I have an autograph??? I’m your biggest fan!” you begged playfully as she helped you climb over the bleachers onto the pitch. “I don’t think I should be inside the pitch,” you chuckled.

She enveloped you in a big hug. “I don’t care. How are you here! I thought you were working!” she said happily.

“Surprise!” She hugged you once again, lifting you off the ground.

You turned around, showing her the jersey you wore with Alexia’s number on it. “You like this new jersey?” you teased playfully.

Aitana's eyes widened in mock horror as she saw the name and number on your jersey. "Alexia? Really?" she laughed, shaking her head.

"What can I say? She's pretty great," you teased back, grinning.

Aitana put you down. “I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you for this,” she told you, feigning disgust.

“Come on, Tani! You know I love you, meu amor,” you said, covering your mouth, not wanting anyone from the stadium to lip-read your conversation. She wouldn’t budge, still giving you an offended look. “I’ll have a lifetime to make you forgive me.”

“You better start now.”

Your presence on the pitch became known pretty quickly. After you finished your conversation with Aitana, still offended, Mapi and Ingrid ran over to you, giving you a hug.

“Hey Y/n, I didn’t know you were coming!”

“I wanted to surprise my girl,” you said affectionately, turning to Aitana.

“You did,” she interjected, still bothered. You knew it was a ruse, but you still found it amusing to see her bothered like this.

Mapi and Ingrid turned to Aitana, looking confused at her tone. You turned your back, making them see the name on the jersey. They burst out laughing.

“How to break Aitana’s heart,” Ingrid giggled.

Aitana rolled her eyes dramatically, though a smile tugged at her lips. "You two are no help," she said, giving Ingrid and Mapi a playful glare.

"Hey, we’re just here to enjoy the show," Mapi replied, still laughing. "But seriously, it's good to see you, Y/N."

"Good to see you too," you replied warmly. "And congratulations on the win, all of you. You played incredibly."

As more teammates joined the celebration, you noticed Alexia approaching, a knowing smile on her face. "Nice jersey," she said, winking at Aitana.

Aitana groaned but couldn't help but laugh. "Alright, alright, I can’t be mad at you for so long," she conceded, pulling you close again. "But you're making it up to me tonight."

"Deal," you agreed, kissing her cheek.

As you waited for Aitana to finish her post-match duties, you met up with your gym buddy, aka Olga, who was waiting for Alexia. You took off your shirt, leaving you with just Aitana’s Barça shirt, and gave it to her.

“Thank you for lending me the shirt. Aitana’s expression was priceless.”

“No problem. I should do the same thing with Alexia!” She raised her eyebrow playfully.

“She would break up with you. My Aitana is the jealous type but she just gets mad, she doesn’t do anything about it. You can rile her up as much as you want. Alexia, on the other hand, I don’t think you can.”

“Yeah, but her face would be priceless!”

Aitana and Alexia appeared out of thin air. “You two are plotting something, I know that,” Alexia chuckled.

“I was just catching up with my gym buddy!” you said innocently, turning your back to show Aitana the jersey you had on.

“I quite like this jersey better,” Aitana said, hugging your waist and giving you a kiss on the cheek. “Are you ready to leave?” You nodded, then proceeded to say your final goodbyes to Alexia and Olga and left with Aitana to your hotel room, which unfortunately was in another hotel, meaning Aitana would have to leave earlier in the morning.

“Are you ready to make it up to me?” She said between kisses as you entered your hotel room.

“Maybe was my plan all along.” You smirked mischievously.

“You are such a bad girl. Riling me up just to have your way with me.”

“I just can’t help myself. You are just so hot. But don’t worry, I’ll be your good girl tonight.”

“Never. You know how much I like it when you act bad.”

You chuckled. “Take off your shirt and lay on the bed.” You instructed her, while she did exactly what you told her to.

May was the busiest month for Aitana, with two finals in two weeks. You attended all of her games, cheering the loudest whenever she scored a goal.

During the Champions League final, you were the most anxious person in the stadium. You decided to go to the game with Olga, wearing one of Aitana's jerseys. Knowing how much she cared about winning this game against Lyon, given their past matches, made you extremely nervous.

As you and Olga found your seats, you could feel the electric atmosphere in the stadium. The roar of the crowd, the sea of colors, and the anticipation hanging in the air were almost overwhelming. You glanced at Olga, who seemed to be handling the nerves better than you.

“Don’t worry, they’ve got this,” Olga said, giving you a reassuring pat on the back.

“I know, I just... I really want this for her,” you replied, your eyes scanning the pitch as the players warmed up.

The match kicked off with a ferocity that had you on the edge of your seat from the start. Lyon came out strong, and the tension was palpable. Every tackle, every pass, every shot had your heart racing. You cheered, you screamed, you held your breath with every close call.

Aitana was everywhere on the pitch, her determination and skill on full display. You watched her every move, feeling an immense sense of pride mixed with anxiety.

Even though Barcelona was dominating, in the first half there were no goals.

Everything changed, though, in the 63rd minute of the game. Aitana scored, putting her team up by one. As soon as you saw the ball inside the net, you screamed your lungs out, tears welling up in your eyes from the pride and joy you were feeling, especially when she kissed her bracelet and pointed at you in the stands.

As the minutes ticked down, Barcelona managed to hold onto their lead, even scoring an additional goal, courtesy of Alexia. And this time it was Olga who got emotional. Finally, the final whistle blew, signaling their victory.

The stadium erupted in cheers, and you felt an overwhelming wave of relief and happiness wash over you. You watched as Aitana and her teammates celebrated on the pitch, their faces alight with joy and triumph.

You made your way down to the edge of the stands, eager to share this moment with her. When she finally spotted you, her eyes lit up, and she ran over, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“We did it!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with emotion.

“You were incredible, Tani,” you said, holding her close. “I’m so proud of you.”

She quickly ran back for the medal ceremony, as you never took your eyes off her the entire time, until she finally came back to you. She helped you onto the pitch and gave you a bone-crushing hug.

“I’m so happy you are here!” She took off her medal and placed it around your neck. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

You hugged her again and whispered. “You would have.” You subtly kissed her neck, “My girl.” You said proudly.

Aitana beamed, her happiness radiating from her. “This is just the beginning for us, you know.”

“I know,” you replied, holding her tightly. “And I can’t wait to see what’s next.”

The team began to gather around, pulling Aitana into their celebrations, and you watched with pride as she celebrated her victory with the club of her life. You could see the immense respect and love her teammates had for her, and it made you love her even more.

As the night went on and the celebrations continued at a club, you and Aitana found moments to steal away together, sharing kisses and quiet words amidst the chaos. It was a night of pure joy. She insisted on taking pictures with you and the trophy, and she still refused her medal when you tried to place it around her neck, claiming that you were also part of the victory.

When you returned to Barcelona, you sadly had to see her leave again for the national team.

“We don’t even have time to celebrate before you already have to leave!” you said sadly as she packed her stuff.

“I know, Cari. I don’t want to go either, but I have to. Who knows? Maybe I’ll fake an injury so I can get back to you earlier,” she joked.

“You would never.” You giggled as she gave you a goodbye kiss and left.

The thing was, it was better that she didn’t joke about having a fake injury because not even a week after she left for Madrid, she came back to you on crutches.

You were already busy moving your stuff into your new home, wanting to surprise Aitana with everything ready before she came back from national duty.

You both decided to rent the house until you were sure about buying it. Her injury complicated things, though.

You juggled secretly bringing her stuff and yours into your new home without her discovering your plans and taking care of her.

She was in physiotherapy when you finally finished everything up. You still had to fix some stuff and bring more of Aitana’s belongings home, but you were finally able to surprise her, even though something was still missing. Fortunately, you fixed it before you had to pick up Aitana from physiotherapy. Everything was finally ready.

You drove to the Barcelona training grounds, waiting for Aitana in the parking lot. She greeted you with a kiss and then you drove toward your new rented home.

“Wait, where are we going?” she quickly realized that it wasn’t your usual route but toward her old home.

“It’s a surprise,” you said, grinning.

She looked at you suspiciously but didn’t press further. As you approached the new house, you asked her excitedly to place a blindfold on her eyes, warning her not to peak. As soon as you pulled into the driveway, you rounded the car and opened the car door for her. You dragged her excitedly inside the house and took off her blindfold.

The living room was warmly lit, and her eyes widened as she took in the sight of all your belongings neatly arranged.

“Welcome home, Tani,” you said softly.

She looked around, her eyes filling with tears. “You did all this?”

“These past months you have been my rock, helping me when I was sick, so when we decided to move in together I wanted to surprise you.”

Aitana hugged you tightly, still slightly limping from her injury. “I love it. I love you. This is perfect.”

“I’m glad you like it, I was worried I might have overstepped by taking some of your stuff here.” Aitana pulled back slightly, shaking her head with a smile. “You could never overstep. This is amazing. You’ve thought of everything.”

You grinned, relieved. “Come on, there’s more to see.”

You guided her through the house, showing her the cozy bedroom, the spacious kitchen, and the backyard with the garden you had talked about. Her eyes sparkled with each new discovery, and she kept squeezing your hand in gratitude and love.

“You even got my favorite coffee mug,” she said, spotting it on the kitchen counter.

As you led her back to the living room, she sat down carefully on the couch, still adjusting to her crutches. “I can’t believe you did all this while taking care of me and working. You’re incredible.”

“There is another surprise.” You couldn’t help but smile excited.

“I don’t think that there is something that could top this.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure.” You smirked playfully. “Stay here.”

You quickly walked inside one of the rooms of your new home and excitedly returned holding a huge puppy, a Bernese mountain dog to be exact.

Aitana’s eyes widened in pure delight as she saw the fluffy, adorable puppy in your arms. “Oh my god, Y/N! You didn’t!”

“I did!” You handed her the puppy, as it began licking all over her face, making her giggle childishly. “Hi there, puppy,” she cooed, stroking the puppy’s soft fur. “You’re so beautiful.”

The puppy wagged its tail enthusiastically, she sat down on the floor playing with it. You joined her enthusiastically as you both started laughing at the clumsy small dog, coming up with names for it.

Later, as the puppy curled up between you on the couch, Aitana leaned her head on your shoulder and sighed contentedly. “This is perfect, Y/N. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

You kissed her forehead gently. “I love you, Aitana. Today. Tomorrow. The day after tomorrow. And all the days after that. I can’t wait to see where the future will take us.

She looked up at you, her eyes filled with love. “I love you too, Cari. More than anything. Here’s to our future, our new home, and our little family.”

The puppy let out a soft, contented sigh, settling deeper into the cushions between you. You both giggled softly.

You turned to Aitana, with a soft smile expressing all your love for her. “I’m really glad you hit my car nine months ago.”

“I’m glad I did too.”

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #barcelona femeni #aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #woso fic #barca femeni

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kiefbowl · 8 months ago

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I was reading an opinion piece on Kate Middleton's cancer diagnosis on CNN by Jamal Baig about the increasing rates of cancer in patients under 50. As far as 5 minutes of googling and JSTORing can lend me to believe, there's nothing illegitimate about Dr. Baig. However, I found this bit in his opinion interesting:

Now, I'm always dubious when reading anything that attributes a very broad generalized idea that changes in diets have caused an increased in cancer, because more often than not it's not pointing to an exploration of, say, increased pesticide use, but the author's personal bias against the quote unquote "unhealthy", especially those who are deemed "fat" by the medical industry.

That being said, I was curious what source he linked, half expecting it to lead to just another op-ed from some other doctor from who knows when, but I was pleasantly surprised! Written by a man named Michael Donaldson, it was an evidentiary review published in a scientific journal called "Nutrition and cancer: A review of the evidence for an anti-cancer diet."

Now I wasn't going to give the whole thing a read, but I stopped in each section, gave a quick skim to get a general vibe, moved on to the next section, etc. I was immediately suspicious that the very first line in the abstract was "It has been estimated that 30–40 percent of all cancers can be prevented by lifestyle and dietary measures alone" as that seems to be a bananas statistic to just posit, but it still had the air of scientific integrity, so I did my skim.

The first handful of sections had things that gave me some moments of pause, that this article was in fact another doctor simply cherry picking data to confirm his own biases, but nothing so egregious as to do a spit take. That comes in a few minutes. The first section that made really go hold the phone was when we got to his Flax Seed section.

Compare how he writes about Red Meat...:

(that's all he wrote, btw)

...with how he starts writing about Flax Seed:

Did I just enter a Flax Seed commercial? Does this guy work for BIG FLAX SEED? on and on he writes about Flax Seed, and I start getting a sense that perhaps this man has a Flax Seed Agenda. In any case, he eventually moves on and I quickly skim to get to the end (because it's boring among other things).

So, who exactly is Michael Donaldson?

Girl are you kidding me

The Hallelujah Acres Foundation is a FOR PROFIT company that sells a """biblical""" based diet program called the hallelujah diet and also sells supplements on said site.

Now, in case you forgot where I started with this, this was the link provided as a "source" to a legitimate doctor's claim in an op-ed about cancer that "at least part of the answer" of why cancer is increasing in under 50 patients are the "changes to nutrition and lifestyle that took hold in middle of the last century." Dr. Baig did not read this article, or if he did was not concerned that it was written by the employee of a company that profits from unscientific research it uses to sell supplements and diets. Which is worse, I don't know.

The point I'm making is that you absolutely need to be vigilant all the time. You need to understand that doctors can not only have biases, but agendas. Researchers can have biases and agendas. Scientists can have biases and agendas. And that magical thinking about real health issues that can affect your future can permeate the scientific community because weirdos write convincing enough evidence that support their already determined world view.

This kind of shit is the reason why women go into doctor offices complaining about pain in their abdomen and get told to go lose weight and come back in 6 months. This is why ideas like moralizing eating have huge effects on women's health and influence medical misogyny, and why it's a feminist issue.

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lethalchiralium · 2 years ago

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Almost | Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader

a/n: you guys literally persuade me so easily it’s hilarious. i’ve had this in my drafts since december LMAOOOOOOOO

warnings: doctor’s appointments, ultrasound of baby three! :) simon is NERVOUS, he is literally imploding

summary: Just a doctor’s appointment to find out baby three’s gender.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | Masterlist

“It’s not that big of a deal, Simon, sit down.”

Your voice registered in his ears but he didn’t listen, he paced in the small examination room after he had helped you onto the table…seat…thing. The medical face mask felt itchy on his face, the lights were too bright, he didn’t like having his hair not covered - he wanted to leave. Hospitals brought up a lot of trauma from previous long hospital stays after Roba, staying a few weeks with Tommy after he had overdosed and almost killed himself - and the three months Winnie was in the NICU.

To say he was uncomfortable would be an understatement.

Because he was more in his head than ever before, worrying about you non-stop since you had told him you thought you were pregnant seven weeks ago. He felt his repressed shame from missing the pregnancies of his first two daughters, now he had a third child to worry about. He felt helpless - like he didn’t know how to do this; which he didn’t really. He never did doctor appointments in the civilian world, he avoided hospitals like the plague, and he definitely did not have experience with having a pregnant wife. He was in emergency mode at all times.

You, on the other hand, were graceful. Having to go through an entire pregnancy by yourself without any support from your spouse was one of the most difficult things you have ever done - but now you had Simon. Even if he was having a mental battle with himself, knowing that he knew and that he was supporting you meant everything.

You stretched out your right hand, putting it right in his line of sight. He slowed to a stop, eyes staring at your hand. You wiggled your fingers, to which he gently took your hand in his own. His eyes met yours.

You gave him a smile. “Simon, I need you to take a breath.”

The rugged man in a black jacket sort of huffed before begrudgingly sitting in the chair beside you. You squeezed his hand and he immediately squeezed back.

“Don’t want to be here.” He immediately regretted his word choice after he spoke, his eyes looking to yours while you gazed at the white ceiling.

“I know.” You answered, hand squeezing his again. “I’ve got a lot of trauma from hospitals too.”

That really surprised him. “Really?”

“You remember Dave.” Simon nodded. “He had brain cancer when he was 12. I was 18, driving him to and from doctor’s appointments and staying with him at the Children’s Hospital because our parents had to work overtime to keep up with the bills.” Your free hand settled on your stomach. “Jake was off in the Navy by that point, Tommy was six and was staying with my grandma. Mom and Dad were always there every second they could since they were working, but it was mostly me. Slept on a pull out bed for months until he got to come home.” You kept staring at the ceiling, the image of your brother on a hospital bed, hooked up to endless wires was an image that was hard to scrub away.

“Your brother’s okay now, right?” He squeezed your hand, you looked to your husband then. He looked a lot more focused than he was earlier, his breathing a lot less rapid. You simply nodded in response. “Good. I like Dave.”

“I know.” You commented as there was a knock on the door, to which you answered, “Come in!”

In stepped your doctor, a woman with tight coils of curls tucked back into a ponytail. She wore pink scrubs with a purple stethoscope. You could tell she was smiling at you from behind the mask, “Hello, Mrs. Riley! It’s good to see you again.” She waved to you, before nodding at Simon. “I assume you’re Mr. Riley?”

“Yes.” He answered, she gave him a smile too before turning and gathering the equipment.

“How is Winnie and Melody?” She asked while you pulled up your shirt.

“Perfect as always.” You squeezed Simon’s hand then. “Mellie’s getting too big for me to carry, and she’s walking now.”

“Walking already? She’ll be outrunning Winnie before you know it. Gel’s cold, sorry.” The doctor commented before putting the gel on, making you take in a soft gasp. Simon squeezed your hand then, you looked to him and gave him a reassuring smile, mouthing, I’m okay.

“Alright, off the bat...” She noted, moving the little wand around after she had placed it on your stomach. “Want to know the sex or wait like last time?”

Your gaze moved from Simon to the screen then back to him, watching at his eyes settled on you, not on the screen. “Up to you.”

Simon’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, you’re the one growing a baby here. You choose.”

You gave him a sharp glare then. “Simon, pick now or I will make you re-gutter my house.”

“Doesn’t scare me. You choose.”

“Simon, I will only say it once more.” Your hand moved to grip his chin, nails digging into his skin a little. “You put the baby in there. Choose. Now.”

He sighed, knowing that you wouldn’t budge. He looked around you to the doctor. “Yes.”

She nodded and looked back to the screen, moving the little wand as you and Simon watched it too. He took your hand again, squeezing it before kissing the side of your cheek through his mask.

“Well, let’s see - ten fingers,” She hummed a little as you held your breath. “Ten toes…” She gasped a little before looking to the both of you, moving the wand back before pointing to its heart. “That is your baby boy’s heart, beating nice and strong, mama.”

“A boy.” You beamed, a smile wide on your face. “Simon, a boy.”

Simon put your hand against his mouth, you could feel him kiss your hand again through the mask. His eyes had softened, watching the screen as the little heart beat - something in his chest squeezed his own heart, and for the first time in his life, he wished to never forget this feeling. The light tingling in his chest, the heat that felt like sunshine, and the way one little picture took his breath away.

“Any names yet?” The doctor broke the small silence, looking to you but you had shook your head.

“He gets to be home the whole pregnancy, so he gets to name him.” You settled your other hand on the top of your stomach, absentmindedly rubbing it. “Felt bad he didn’t get to name Mellie.”

“Mellie? That’s such a cute nickname.” The doctor smiled, you nodded.

You looked at your husband, seeing how tears had collected in his eyes. You squeezed his hand, turning back to your doctor. “Can we two pictures?”

The doctor nodded, “I’ll be right back with them.”

Simon put that picture in the breast pocket of his uniform the next day. He definitely did not show Price as soon as he walked through the door. He definitely did not show Gaz next, who bear hugged his friend, saying, “My godbaby!”

Soap definitely did not start screaming, “You’re gonnae send Mini Ghost aftae me!”

———

part two may or may not make a lot of you cry and hate me lollolololol

———

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon ghost riley cod #simon ghost riley x fem!reader #simon ghost riley x afab!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x wife!reader #simon riley #simon riley cod #lethalchiralium #lethal chiralium

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zepskies · 1 year ago

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Smoke Eater - Part 11

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst warning. But also major hurt/comfort.

Part 11: “Heart of the Home”

You sat very still.

Your hands were gripped together in your lap when the doctor entered. He was tall and lean and blonde, and he would’ve reminded you of your boss, except this man had a kinder face.

You were sitting on the edge of your grandfather’s bed, hoping the doctor would say the bloodwork and scans came back fine. That they wouldn’t need to admit George into the hospital for further testing. That he could go home in the morning.

But your life had never been quite that easy.

“Okay, George. I’m sorry, but we need to admit you,” said the doctor.

He explained that while the malignant tumor of his cancer had been removed last year, the scans that had been done last month hadn’t been able to detect the bright spots now formed on George’s lungs and lymph nodes.

The oncologist would have to confirm, but you all knew where this was headed. Likely those “bright spots” were tumors.

George nodded slowly at first, taking it all in. He asked what his options were, as far as treatment.

“Your oncologist will go over those options with you,” the doctor replied. “We’re going to move you up to Oncology shortly.”

George thanked him.

And you sat very still.

A hand fell on your arm, finally earning your gaze. George’s face was oddly calm, though the worry in his eyes was for you. You realized that he’d gently called your name, though you hadn’t heard him. Your ears were ringing.

His mouth parted to tell you something, but nothing came out. So instead, he tugged you into his arms, and he heaved a long sigh.

“I guess we’re here again,” he admitted. He let out a chuckle. “The Lord does like his tests…but maybe that car accident was a blessing in disguise, huh?”

You heard his voice, but your mind was buzzing—mainly with the doctor’s words, and with a bone-deep feeling that threatened to consume you.

Your car, your fault. Options, again. Here again.

Your fault.

When you didn’t answer, George pulled away a bit to give you a questioning look.

“Sweetheart?” he tried. You laid a hand on his arm.

“You still haven’t eaten dinner, have you?” you asked. Neither had you, for that matter. “I’ll get us something that isn’t rubbery turkey.”

George blinked at you, confused, with a growing edge of worry.

“Isn’t Dean getting your meds? Why don’t you wait for him to—”

“I’m fine,” you said, already getting up to grab your purse. “I’ll be back.”

George called your name again, but the ringing in your ears was now pulsing in time with your heartbeat.

You made your way down the hall to the lobby at a brusque clip, even with your neck brace on. You didn’t see Dean, but he certainly saw you as he was walking back into the hospital. Frowning, he followed and called out to you.

You slowed when you saw him, and he soon caught up with you. He rested a hand on your back.

“Hey, where you goin’?" he asked.

“We haven’t eaten in a while. I’m going to the cafeteria,” you said. Though you seemed distracted, your eyes meeting his only briefly. It triggered a small spidey sense running up Dean’s spine.

He gave you your prescription pain medication, which you took with a small “thank you.”

“Everything okay?” he asked. “How’s George doing?”

“Fine. He’s resting,” you said. And by the look of you, that seemed to be true. But he spotted the tremble in your hands when you took the pill bottle package from him. It made him stop you when you tried to keep walking down to the cafeteria.

“Okay, you wanna run that by me again?” Dean asked.

You frowned, and your brows knit together. “What?”

“Is there something going on?” he pressed.

You sighed, but you didn’t answer him. You looked exhausted, and like you’d rather swallow your own tongue than speak. You shook your head and laid a hand on his wrist.

“I’m fine. Dean, thank you for everything you did tonight, but you still have to work tomorrow. Go home, get some rest,” you said.

You turned from him again. That was your first mistake. He reached out and grasped your hand to stop you.

“Hey, wait a minute,” he said.

“What?” you said in irritation. Your second mistake was not being able to look at him.

Dean was frowning in earnest now. Worry clawed in his gut, which was also telling him not to let you walk away from him. His grip shifted to hold both of your arms and move directly in front of you. He dipped his chin, trying to get you to meet his eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I need you to talk to me.”

You inhaled a shuddering breath. A wave was rising inside you, threatening to pull you into its undertow. Your eyes burned, red and shining. Dean finally saw it when you raised your head, what little you could. Your mouth began to quiver, looking into his eyes. And it was done.

You could no longer be still.

Dean held you when you fell apart in the hallway.

Dean called out of work the next day to stay with you and George. Gordon would be acting Lieutenant until his next shift, and Dean was sure the man would take full enjoyment out of it.

He couldn’t care about that right now though. He felt that his place was here, being your quiet wall of support while you and George and the oncologist talked about treatment options.

“Normally, at the stage we’re in, I would be recommending chemotherapy,” said Dr. Benton.

“Normally?” you echoed.

“At the rate this is progressing, the treatment would have to be aggressive,” he said. His gaze focused on George. “However, at your age, and the current state of your overall health…at this point, I don’t think the rigors of treatment would be worth diminishing your quality of life.”

“What are you saying?” you asked. Your voice cut like a whip, earning the other men’s gazes.

George was the first one to lay a hand on your arm. “You know what it means, honey…he’s saying it ain’t worth it.”

“Of course, it’s worth it,” you retorted. With your brows furrowed and lips pursed, your eyes went from him to the doctor. “Just because he’s older, we shouldn’t even try? Is that what you’re saying, doctor?”

At that, even Dean drew closer to lay a hand on your back. Meanwhile, George squeezed your arm.

Benton shook his head gravely. “That’s certainly not what I’m saying.”

“How much time would I get, if I started treatment,” George asked, before you could volley further with the doctor.

Benton met the other man’s gaze.

“I’m going to be honest with you, George. You may get a few more weeks, or even a few months. But that is a best-case scenario.”

Dean drove you all home that day, after George decided to formally waive treatment. Both men knew you were angry in your silence, but neither one wanted to press you. Dean was too wary, and George was too tired.

Once he was settled in bed, you hadn’t even left his room yet before you grabbed a notepad off his desk and wandered into the hall. You started to make a list of things you still needed from the grocery store, among other things. Dean took that piece of paper out of your hands.

“Good. I’ll handle this,” he said. “Meanwhile, you can get upstairs, take a shower, take your meds, and get some sleep.”

You frowned at him. “You haven’t slept either, Dean.”

“I’m used to it,” he said, giving you a wink and a slight smile. Overnight shifts could be a bitch at a firehouse, but Dean was no stranger to having his sleep interrupted.

“Listen to him, honey. He’s speaking sense,” George called from inside his room. The bedroom door was still open. He was settling into his bed while trying to stifle a cough. He sipped at a cup of water you’d brought for him.

Still, you looked reluctant. Dean held your arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Come on,” he said. “You were in an accident yesterday. You’ve had one hell of a night. You need your rest, or you’ll be no good to anyone.”

And if you pushed yourself much more, he worried that he’d have to take you right back to the hospital. Dean would rather not have that scare so close to the last one.

He brushed your cheek with gentle fingers. With the limited mobility your neck brace provided, you did your best to look up at him. Your eyes were softer.

“Okay,” you breathed.

“Okay? All right, good,” Dean said. You held onto his jacket for a moment, leaning against him.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You felt the burn of tears behind your closed eyelids. A few of them squeezed past and slipped down your cheeks. Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.

“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”

“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”

“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”

Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.

“That you do, Lieutenant.”

You left for your room soon after, but not before you brought him down to you for one more tearful kiss.

Dean then watched you climb up the stairs to your room and nearly went up to help you, but he heard George call his name. Dean ventured back into George’s room and heeded his beckoning hand.

“You hungry? I can scramble some eggs or something before I hit the store. I think I saw two more left in the carton,” Dean said. George shook his head.

“Come ‘ere a sec.”

Dean took the hint and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I just wanna thank you for everything you did yesterday. Everything you’re still doing for us,” George said. He looked exhausted, but whatever he wanted to say was important enough to fight off sleep. He clasped a hand on Dean’s arm.

“You don’t have to,” Dean replied.

George huffed. A smile made his eyes gleam brighter.

“I knew you were a special one, Dean Winchester. Knew it the night I met ya, on your very first date with her.”

Dean blinked, but his pause drifted into a reserved smile.

“How’s that?” he asked.

“Well, I’ll be honest. When I heard that black Chevy rumble like hell’s wheels onto the driveway, I thought I might have to worry about you,” George chuckled.

Dean’s lips quirked.

“But no, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t the pretty flowers, or our mutual love of killer sharks,” George quipped, making Dean’s smile more genuine. “It isn’t your job either, or the fact that you saved her. I just believe that you can see a man’s mettle in his eyes…and I saw it in you when I shook your hand that night.”

Dean took that in for a moment. His hand flexed over his knee. Then he met George’s gaze, though he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes though, honestly was the best bet.

“I’m sorry for what you’re going through,” he said at last. “I can’t imagine…”

George let out a breath through his nose. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

He pointed to a picture frame on his bedside. It was of him and his wife, Sophie, when they were around your age and Dean’s. The couple were sitting on a pier that hung over the edge of the lake in their hometown.

She held him from behind, with her arms wrapped around his neck. Her long hair was being carried by the wind, getting swept into George’s eyes. He was smiling too hard to care.

“I’m ready to smile like that again,” he said. He had tears in his eyes, but he was already lighter at the thought. “I know it’s selfish…but I think I’ve missed her long enough.”

Dean paused. Then he cleared his throat past a small well of something he couldn’t name. He wondered if his dad ever had thoughts like that.

“Well, I’ll let you get your rest,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

George nodded and gave Dean’s arm a squeeze. “All right. Drive safe. Don’t hit any goddamn trees.”

He shot Dean a knowing wink, and it almost had the younger man laughing. George’s sense of humor was something else.

Dean then left George to rest. He made sure he had his wallet, keys, and your grocery list before he left your house and went back to the car. He checked his phone and saw a missed call…from Cas.

Dean was reminded again about Azazel, the kingpin who might’ve ordered a hit on his family. Along with the recent murders and arsons, and the connection from one of the victims to your company, Savage & Co.

Dean returned the call as he climbed into the Impala.

“Dean. Everything all right?” Cas asked. “Sam filled me in about the accident.”

“Yeah, everyone’s okay…well, not really. I’ll explain later,” Dean replied. “Listen, about what we talked about at the bar.”

“Yes.” Cas said gravely. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go to your father about this yet.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean sighed. “My girl just got some real bad news. I know you gotta keep digging into Savage & Co., but can you keep her out of it?”

“Is she all right?”

“Yeah, more or less…it’s her grandfather.”

“Ah, I see,” Cas said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks, man. I’d rather her just focus on what she needs to do right now, you know?”

“I get it. And believe me, we’re keeping the investigation of Nick Savage quiet for now,” Cas said. “But if we find something, or worse, if I can’t…I’ll likely need to question her. She works directly with Savage, and from what I can tell, she’s instrumental in bringing in and maintaining several of his major accounts.”

Dean stopped at a red light and took a moment to rub a hand over his tired face, rubbing his eyes. “You don’t really think she’s got any idea of what that asshole’s into.”

“I’m not saying she does. But in working so closely with him, perhaps she’s noticed things about her boss, and the company. Things she’s kept to herself, out of self-preservation.”

Dean frowned. He didn’t want to think about shit like that. It made his stomach churn at the thought of you working for someone who might be doing business with a crime lord, let alone Azazel.

“Well, when that day comes, give me a heads up, okay?”

“Will do.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

Dean offered to take another day off to help you, but you wouldn’t let him. He needed to go back to work, and you were able to arrange working from home for the next few weeks.

Even Nick couldn’t refuse to accommodate you in a situation like this. He knew very well that if he pushed you too hard, you’d go directly to HR.

So he backed off, and told you to take as much time at home as you needed. It allowed you to put him, and that afternoon in his office, away from your mind to focus on taking care of your grandfather.

Though you called your best friend the day you got home from the hospital, Andréa didn’t come by your house to see you and George until the end of the week. She cited mounting projects at work and some kind of tiff with her cousin Meg, but it all sounded like excuses to you.

However, she was gracious enough to bring dinner for the three of you on a Friday night. She cut up with George like normal, and even got him laughing, until a coughing fit forced him to stop. It also took most of the joy out of the rest of the evening.

While George went up to his room to rest, Andréa later joined you in the kitchen. You were washing the dishes, trying to focus on what you were doing. But your mind was buzzing continuously with future tasks and worries. Always, tasks and worries.

“How are you holding up?” Andréa asked. She rubbed your back, and you gave her a slight smile.

“All I can do is make him comfortable, for as long as possible,” you replied. There were tears in your friend’s eyes, but she dabbed them away with the back of her hand.

“What do you need? Anything, you just tell me,” she said.

It was a little easier for you to contemplate leaning on Andréa. You had been friends with her for years, and she was like another daughter to George.

On the other hand, asking Dean for help always made you hesitate. What you two had was still so new. You worried that this was too much for your relationship, too fast.

“Well,” you sighed as you wiped your hands dry on a kitchen towel. You didn’t exactly want to talk about it, but there were things you had to start planning, even if you didn’t know the exact timeframe.

However, as soon as you opened your mouth to reply, Andréa’s cell phone rang. She held up a finger to you and checked it. To your surprise, she actually answered it.

“Hey, babe,” she replied with a smile. You heard Benny’s deep voice on the line, asking a question. “Yeah, I’m still here. I’m probably leaving soon though.”

She continued her conversation for a few more minutes, but you didn’t hear anything after that. A tension headache was sharp behind your eyes, while anger (yes, anger) rolled hot under your skin. Your lips pursed. You busied yourself with straightening up the kitchen until she continued her call for another few minutes.

“Sorry about that,” she said, finally turning her attention back to you. “So what do you need?”

You put away the last dry dish and turned to her coolly.

“Nothing.”

Andréa frowned. She knew there was something off with you, but her furrowed brows betrayed her confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” you repeated. “Don’t you need to head out, anyway?”

“No, I was just…what’s up with you?” she asked.

“What’s up with me is my grandfather’s dying!” you snapped. You left her in the kitchen, precisely so that she’d follow you out. You grabbed her purse for her and went to the front door, where you stepped out.

Andréa was dismayed and confused as she followed you out onto the porch. She raised her brows at you when you shut the door and crossed your arms at her.

“I know you, and this isn’t just about that. What’s the problem?” she asked.

“You can’t seem to detach from your boyfriend for more than five minutes to just be my friend. That’s the problem,” you replied. “But why should I be surprised? Like always, you’re too wrapped up in yourself to consider anyone else.”

Her brows knitted together; she looked hurt by your words, but also defensive.

“How can you say that when you’ve been exactly the same way?” she accused. “Since you met Dean, I’d be lucky to see you once a week—”

“I call you every week,” you began, counting the list with your fingers. “You’re always busy, but you never give me a day that works for you. And when we do make plans, you usually cancel. Why? Because you’re going sailing with Benny. You’re going to a restaurant, hours away, just to try the new sushi bar beer garden, or whatever the hell. Or you’re going on an impromptu road trip, or you’re planning a summer trip to Greece. Give me fucking break, Dre.”

By now she was frowning angrily, her arms crossed. “You’re mad at me because I have a life?”

“No. I’m happy for you that you found someone. I really am,” you said. “But we clearly live in two different versions of reality. I just don’t have the time or the energy to entertain yours.”

You knew you were being too harsh. You felt incredible guilt as soon as it all left your mouth…but part of you also felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. The problem was, you still felt heavy. Just in a different way.

Both of you were crying when Andréa left your house.

All too soon, a week became a month. In that time, Dean called you every day to check on you. He spent most of his evenings with you and George when he wasn’t on shift. And when he was, sometimes Meg would drop in.

She understood your argument with Andréa, and she respected you for taking a stand when you needed to. She even confided you that she’d had similar frustrations with her cousin lately.

But Meg wasn’t your only visitor. Ellen had come a few times to bring you lunch and dinner, even breakfast, though you hadn’t asked her to. You realized then how close Dean must be to his friends at the firehouse, along with the Harvelles; Ellen also refused to take any money from you for the food.

By the end of the month, George mainly spent his days sleeping. Pain medication made his days nearly painless, but not without struggle. You were doing your best to care for him while continuing to work full-time from home. You were also exhausted, though you refused to admit it.

Today was a better day, however, because George was awake. He was also more aware of his surroundings than usual.

He stopped you from adjusting his pillow so you would sit down on the edge of his bed. He took your hand in his, brushing a thumb over the back of it.

“I’m okay with this, you know,” he said. You pursed your lips, but he stopped you from whatever you were going to say. “I don’t want to leave you. You know that…but I’m so damn proud of you. Your Gram was, and still is…”

Your lower lip wobbled as you tried and failed to keep your tears at bay. They stung in your eyes and slipped past your defenses, down your face.

“The house is yours. But if that’s too hard for you, just sell it,” he said, heaving a deep breath. “It’s just the bones. You’re the heart. And you always have been.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but not a sound would come out. You held his hand with both of yours and stared down at them. Until his voice once again commanded your attention.

“I always thought…moving to the city ruined my daughter. That we should’ve stayed in Lebanon. That maybe I gave her too much freedom, and I failed her somehow along the way,” George said. His eyes were heavy with old heartache. And yet, they soon began to lighten.

“But the day we lost a daughter, we gained one too,” he said. Then, he chuckled a little. “And I know I never failed with you, sweetheart.”

That proved to be too much for you. He pulled you into his arms like you were still a child, and he held you for a long time while you cried yourself out.

Though he eventually spotted Dean hesitating in the doorway. He’d probably let himself in with the spare key you’d given him.

George raised a hand from your back and silently beckoned Dean inside his room. He was getting tired, drifting off thanks to the morphine.

“Hey, lookie there. The boyfriend’s here,” George whispered with a bit of cheek. You sucked in a breath and raised your head, wiping at your eyes before you turned around. Dean met you with an attempt at a smile and a gentle hand on your back.

“Just got out of work?” you asked. He’d been on a 24-hour shift, and you’d missed him. You stood and stepped into his welcoming embrace. He dropped a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah. I’ve got the next couple of days off,” Dean said. He greeted George next and asked him if he needed anything.

“Just some water,” the older man replied.

“I’ll get it,” you said with a sniff. “Need to start dinner too.”

“I already brought some food. You like Italian, right?” Dean said, with a subtle smile. It earned your sigh and a grateful smile. He knew very well that it was now one of your favorites. Italian meatballs always reminded you both of your first date.

“Thank you,” you said, grasping his hand. He squeezed yours with a nod, before he let you go.

When you were out of earshot, George cleared his throat past a wet cough. Dean reached over and grabbed him a tissue. George took it with a nod. Again, he encouraged Dean to come closer.

“I’m not worried,” George said, between deep breaths. “You know why?”

Dean just stared back for a moment. He genuinely had no idea what the man might say next.

“Tell me,” he said.

“My granddaughter’s strong. Always has been, because she had to be,” said George. “But you’re gonna be there when she’s not.”

Dean considered the weight of that charge. The anxiety in his chest felt familiar; like the day he got his badge at the Fire Academy, knowing then the responsibility he held in his hands.

That’s a lot to put on just three months of knowing this girl, came a more selfish thought. It sounded a lot like the guy he used to be, not too long before he met you.

But when Dean thought about you, and what you’d begun to mean to him…

He realized that he only had one answer.

“Yes, sir. I am,” said Dean.

George gave a tired smile. “Good man.”

And that night, an agreement was made.

In the morning, your grandfather was gone.

Dean held you through what he thought was the worst of your heartbreak. But after that dour morning, it was like a switch flipped inside you.

In the days after George’s death, your shutters came up. You threw yourself into checklists and task after task—in funeral arrangements and planning and contacting distant relatives and friends.

This was your failsafe. Your version of “autopilot.” And these things needed to get done, after all.

But Dean worried when he no longer saw the softer side of you. Like your heart had been wrung dry.

He inevitably had to go back to work, but in between the demanding hours of his schedule, he tried to get you to slow down. He saw the warning signs of you running yourself into the ground. He just didn’t know how to help you land.

So Dean picked up slack where he saw it, often without you asking him to. He began fixing the house, one section at a time. He enlisted Benny’s help, since he actually had a small construction business. Dean even paid for the materials himself without you knowing.

And one sunny afternoon, he took a break from repaving part of the cracked and uneven driveway to grab a beer inside. You were sitting at the kitchen table with stacks of papers all around you, your cellphone on speaker as some kind of elevator music continued to ring on a loop.

“Can you believe I’ve been on hold with the funeral director for 20 minutes?” you told him in irritation. But you didn’t truly take sight of him until he came back from the kitchen.

He wore a familiar ensemble of jeans and black undershirt with a plaid shirt, rolled up to his elbows. He was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and his hands were dusty and stained from his work on the driveway. Dean looked tired, and that made you feel guilty.

Meanwhile, he frowned and popped open a beer. “You want one of these? Looks like you could use one.”

You shook your head. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You’d try calling again later. Instead, you focused on the next item of your checklist for today.

“Food. Because we’re gonna need to eat after the service,” you inclined your head. “Okay, still need to come up with a list of caterers, because I don’t think I can cook for that many people.”

Dean nodded at that. “Let me talk to Ellen. She’ll give you a good price, and her food is good.”

You looked up from your notepad and considered him thoughtfully. You wouldn’t have thought to cater from a bar, but he was right. Ellen had great food at the Roadhouse.

“Okay, I’ll call her,” you said.

“No, I’ll call her,” Dean insisted. He set down the beer on the table and leaned his palms flat on its surface. “Sweetheart, I told you I’d help you with all this. You don’t have to do it by yourself.”

“Dean, you’ve done enough,” you replied. Your brows drew together stubbornly. “You’re paving my driveway right now, for God’s sake! This is my responsibility, not yours.”

Dean frowned, making you sigh. You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms.

“Look, we’ve only been dating for three months,” you said. And in your mind, a good chunk of that time had been spent in the worst hell of your life. “This right here? It’s a lot. I’m not expecting you to deal with all this…”

You bit your lip, and your gaze fell away from his as your insecurities took hold. The thoughts that had been plaguing you every night since this all began, on the night of the car accident.

“And…if you’d rather take a break from us for a while, I’d understand,” you said.

Your voice was more collected than you felt. But that didn’t make it any easier when Dean stared back at you, mostly incredulous. You even thought you saw a thread of hurt there, and it made your heartache worsen.

Dean came around to your side of the table. He dragged a chair back and sunk into it, facing you directly.

“You think that’s the kind of guy I am?” he asked.

You immediately shook your head. You weren’t trying to upset him, or imply that he wasn’t reliable, or trustworthy, or whatever was running through his head. You were just trying to be realistic.

You’re so pragmatic it hurts, as Andréa had often told you.

“Dean, it’s not that…” you began, a bit helplessly. “I just—”

“Just, nothin’.” His chair scraped toward you as he reached out for your hand. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said this next part.

“I’m not leaving you with this.”

Your gaze met his, though you desperately tried to keep your heart from rising into your throat.

“I’m not leaving you,” Dean said. His tone, his eyes, his hold on your hand was firm.

For a moment, you stared at him, unblinking, even as tears swam in your eyes.

He’s not leaving you.

Not like everyone else in your life.

You were grateful. Too grateful, even, for words.

When you finally broke down into tears, Dean realized what an idiot he’d been. Your wall of stoicism had been just that—a flimsy wall. Now it was shattered, and so were you.

It scared him just how much, as he gathered you onto his lap and into his arms. You didn’t seem to care that he was dirty and covered with sweat. You clung to him strong, and he held you back just as tightly.

“No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough,” you confessed. “You save people all the time. I couldn’t save anyone in my life.”

Dean frowned. He cupped the back of your head, and he felt your tears sliding down his neck. His voice was thick with emotion when he was able to reply.

“Oh, baby. It’s not your fault.”

“I can’t…I can’t do anything. Anything that matters.” Your voice was a broken whisper. It damn near broke his heart.

“Now you know that’s not true,” he said. “I’m not gonna let you lie to yourself like that.”

You trembled and heaved with sobs, and he continued to hold you.

Just be there, Sam had told him, when Dean had called him from the hospital. Sam reminded him again last week, when George finally passed.

Is that all I’m supposed to do? Dean thought. His brows furrowed, but he tried to hide his frustration.

He was used to people depending on him. He led a team. Before then, he’d looked out for Sam all his life. Dean had never had to help someone get through this kind of grief though. He just wanted to help you, in whatever way he could.

Because he was worrying, just like you. That whatever he did, it wouldn’t be enough.

But he couldn’t leave you.

I can’t, and I won’t, he thought. So he took a breath, and he said the first true thing that came to mind.

“You’re the strongest woman I know, you know that?” Dean said. He spoke low and steady, but with the conviction he felt. “And that’s a tall order, considering some of the badass ladies I’ve got in my life.”

A smile tugged at his lips when he considered people like Ellen and Jo, Jody and Donna. He might’ve lost his mom, but he and Sam hadn’t lacked when it came to influential women in their lives.

“But I saw it the day we met. I see it every time we’re together,” he continued. “You work hard as hell. You take care of everyone around you…”

You were still quiet, trying to stifle your crying.

Dean let out a breath. “Man, if you only knew how much you’ve been helping me. Keeping my damn feet on the ground with this whole…arsonist mess my dad’s been investigating. Digging up the past, my mom, the whole damn thing.”

With a sniffle, you uncurled from him, just enough to reveal your face. Your grip on his shirt loosened, your palm flattening on his chest. He held your hand there and turned his lips to your forehead. He sensed that you were calming down. That you were listening.

“That matters to me,” he told you.

You nodded and tightened your hand on his. “Me too.”

Your voice was still shaky, but it sounded a little stronger.

“See? You might as well face it.” Dean grinned. “You’re a badass chick with a big heart.”

You snorted in response. Your lips even twitched at a smile. He spied it when he looked down at you. And you rested easier against him as your tears subsided.

“Thank you,” you whispered. He dried your cheek with a brush of his hand.

“For what?” he asked.

“For staying.”

AN: So first off, I'm sorry for the gritty "reality" of this one. It's just where the story took me, though it serves a purpose narratively and for both the reader and Dean's character development.

But also, I think this has just been on my mind, since both my grandmother and great uncle (brother and sister) died within a year of one another due to different forms of cancer. My great uncle passed in May of this year, and my grandmother two years this past October.

Again, I'm sorry if this one was too heavy, but art does imitate life and this was probably my brain trying to express those emotions I couldn't fully make sense of at the time. George will be missed, but will still be felt in the rest of this story, as I'm sure any of you who've lost close family members will understand. 💙

Next Time:

The identity of Azazel will finally be revealed in Part 12. But first...

You nodded. “By the way, it was nice of Sam and Eileen to come. And Meg and Cas.”

Dean smiled.

“They can be your people too,” he said. “If you want ‘em to be.”

You couldn’t help it. Your tears brewed and bubbled over. And you moved slowly across the couch to twine your arms around his neck. Dean’s lips tugged at a smile, and he welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

Both of you were still wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing all day; you in your black dress and Dean in his slacks and white buttoned-down shirt, though by now without the jacket, and the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

You were infinitely exhausted. But one thing had become clear to you over the past few weeks.

“Thank you. Thank you for today, and for every day since we met,” you said shakily.

Keep Reading: PART 12

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

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@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

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#Heart of the Home #Smoke Eater #Part 11 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #Castiel #spn #supernatural #benny lafitte #jo harvelle #ellen harvelle #zepskies writes

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darkpuppysuit · 3 months ago

Text

Happiness

HybridAU- BTS- OT7- poly!ot7, Hybrid!bts (minus Seokjin) x Hybrid!reader

6.5k Words

Fluff and crack pretty much.

WARNINGS: Hybrid abuse, mentions of s*xual content, slightly bloody, one mention of "the devils lettuce" oh and cursing duh.

Uh nothing else I don't think?

Lmk if I missed something.

Run, run faster, don't stop fucking running.

Those are the only words that ring like a broken mantra inside my head as I sprint down the empty sidewalk in the dead of night, for what reason is a hybrid running alone at this time of night?

I'll tell you.

I was once a present for a little girl of a wealthy businessman about five years ago, everything was going great for me at first, the girl and I were friends she loved me with her whole heart, my adoption certificate was even in her name, she was my whole world after I had just turned twenty and the adoption was set in stone.

Her father let her adopt a hybrid strictly because most of them were good with kids and he thought of me as some glorified babysitter but not even a year later my little girl was diagnosed with brain cancer and she passed away on her birthday the following year.

Her mother couldn't even look at me without crying remembering all the fun times the three of us had together, like the summer picnic we had at a local park for my adoption day or the movie night we had after Christmas had come and gone, laughing and throwing popcorn at each other when a food fight started on screen.

The father on the other hand is a nasty man, back door dealing drugs, guns and ammo, you name it he gave it to you for a high price whether that be information on his competitors or cold hard cash, while the face of his business was a hybrid rights center, bunch of bullshit if you ask me.

He started coming into my room a month after his daughter passed away, a drunken fool but who was I to tell him no or get away from me? I couldn't do jack shit I had to sit there and take the punches and the slaps of the whip he brought into my room the same night.

He would yell at me for killing his daughter at the beginning then he started blaming me for everything that was wrong in the world using racial slurs and hybrid slurs in a means to get under my skin so I would lash out at him, giving him another reason to punish me.

He would starve me half to death because I was too big for a hybrid that was meant to be small and frail, unable to provide or protect herself, most of the time I wasn't even allowed to leave my room but tonight was the final straw.

I couldn't take the years of abuse anymore so once he was passed out in the bed next to me I used it as my chance to escape, putting my clothes back on as quickly and quietly as I could before silently running downstairs and out the door.

The cool spring air sent a chill down my spine, I closed the door gently and started walking out of the rich neighborhood I once called home and down the first alleyway I could find which was my first mistake.

I rub my hands up and down my arms hoping to keep myself somewhat warm cautiously walking forward and looking over my shoulder every now and again to see if someone was following me when I hit a brick wall, no, brick walls don't growl like that.

"Look what the cat dragged in!" The mystery man roughly grabs me by the shoulders and yanks me in front of him with a disgusting smirk on his face his scent reeks of shitty cigars and marijuana with a hint of wood rot. "She looks like one of those rich bastard's hybrids look at what she's wearing, not to mention that diamond studded collar she's got on." Another hybrid stands in front of my shaking form flicking my sensitive ears causing me to squeak.

"Awe would you listen to her? Do it again Max she seems to like it." He chuckles darkly before the other man flicks my ear again causing me to hum due to how sensitive my ears were. "Please s-stop I don't-" A fist meets my already starving stomach causing me to fall into the grime and garbage below me.

The hybrid that was previously holding my arm kneels next to me, his horrid scent filling my nose and I clamp my hand over my mouth but it was so pungent I could taste it in the back of my throat, I damn near threw up.

"Give us your collar bitch and we'll call it a night." He demands, I couldn't bring myself to let it go not now, it was the first present my little girl gave me when she adopted me, it's become the last physical memory I have of her.

The thin hybrid grabs a fist full of my hair and yanks my head back exposing my throat and only now do I notice that their both bear hybrids, shit. "You heard him squirrel hand it over and we'll let you get away with your life."

I have no idea what to do so I take a short glance around me and find an old pipe and lunge for it, swinging it at them connecting with one of their heads. "You're gonna regret that rat!" I don't give either of them enough time to scramble after me as I'm already out of the alleyway.

Those events are what have led me to a suburban area filled with houses with two very pissed bear hybrids running after me, tears filling my vision but that doesn't stop me from running, my legs however are about to give out from under me at any given moment and I don't feel like becoming their next meal.

I dip into a strangely large, random backyard and hide in the bushes at the back of the house in an attempt to catch my breath. My body shivers and shakes with every breath of air I take. A short minute later the bears catch up to me and my body goes into overdrive and I pass out.

_______________________________

The morning sunlight shines through the sheer curtains into the large bedroom when an alarm clock starts screaming and the blanket on the bed starts to shift slowly with a few grunts and groans to accompany the body that moved to turn the alarm off and slink out of the tangle of other bodies in the bed.

"Why so early hyung? Come back to bed." In reality it wasn't early at all not to Seokjin at least. "It's only eight in the morning bun, not even as early as it should have been, let go of my leg." He quips trying to shake the bunny hybrid off of him without waking the others.

He successfully manages to escape his grasp almost falling before he saunters the length of the floor into their shared master bathroom to take a shower and get ready for work. Another person starts to move out from underneath the pile of warm bodies, actually face planting onto the floor with a loud thud followed by groan.

"Fuck, that hurt." The coyote hybrid groggily drags himself off the ground to his feet, looking around for his boxers and a shirt to wear downstairs to make some coffee and maybe a quick breakfast for his mates.

He jogs downstairs pulling an oversized old tee over his head towards the kitchen and turning the stove light next to the coffee machine on, getting it started as he pulls three mugs out of the cabinet above his head. "Good morning my love." The coyote hybrid sleepily preens at the nickname as he hands the panther hybrid his mug, taking a sip of his own. "Morning Yoons, did you sleep good?" The hybrid grunts as he slowly shuffles towards the breakfast nook, sitting in the corner facing the window.

"Honestly Hobi, I could've slept better if someone's foot wasn't wedged in my fucking ribcage all night." He grunts when the sound of heavy footsteps causes his ears to perk up and swivel around to listen to his younger mate trudge down the stairs.

"It's not my fault you always end up at the foot of the bed after sex, kitty cat." The wolf hybrid greets him with a peck on his forehead before moving over to the bar located at the large island in the middle of the open kitchen giving Hoseok a morning kiss on the lips.

"It is so your fault, you have the longest legs I've ever seen on a hybrid, big oaf." Yoongi quips glaring at the walking oak tree of a hybrid. Before any of them could get another word out Seokjin comes down the stairs in his snazzy navy blue suit.

"Morning my boys." He says happily completely unaware of the small fight that could've happened had he not walked down the stairs when he did. "Coffee on the porch? It's nice out this morning." Seokjin greets each of his mates with a quick kiss before grabbing his mug out of Hoseok's hands and starts towards the sliding glass door located at the edge of the living room.

They sit out on the nicely decorated porch for a few minutes, sipping their coffee in near silence. It was peaceful birds were chirping away, the warm rays of the sun shining down on them. Yoongi finished his coffee a few minutes ago so now he's resting his head on his older mates lap with his eyes closed soaking in the morning sun rays.

Hoseok sits on the opposite side scrolling through his phone while Namjoon sits across from the three of them reading a book set in medieval times complete with a damsel in distress and a brave hero come to save the day, you know that classic cliche.

The wind blows gently across the patio, causing Hoseok to sniff the air for a moment before pinching his nose shut and opening his mouth disturbing the quiet morning. "Do you smell that?" He continues to sniff the air around him, taking a whiff of Seokjin and Yoongi as he stands up from his perch, his ears flicking in every direction trying to locate any sound and the awful smell of burning pine, wilting lavender and cigars?

"Yeah I smell it too it's killing my fucking nose." Yoongi complains making no effort to get up from his spot on the outdoor couch nuzzling his face into Seokjin's stomach to hopefully mask the odor with his sweet scent of bubble gum and vanilla. "Whatever it is we have to find it and get rid of it before the other three wake up, you know how sensitive Jungkook's nose is." Seokjin quickly finishes his coffee nudging a half asleep panther until he moves off his lap to help look for the source. Even though he didn't have a sense of smell like his mates, that didn't stop him from helping them look.

All four of them look around the open yard first, checking the nearby tree line and flower patch just on the other side of the house before Seokjin takes it upon himself to sift through the flower bushes located next to the porch, pricking his fingers on the thorns a couple times before he spots something small twitching deep within his pink rose bush.

"Hey I think I found something! Namjoon I need your long arms!" Seokjin yells for the wolf that comes running to his mates side, he points down into the rose bush with his nose holding the branches and flowers out of the way so he didn't accidently crush any of his precious roses.

Namjoon gently puts his hand down to reach for the small creature pulling it out and looking it over. "What the fuck is it? A chipmunk?" Yoongi and Hoseok stand next to the others when Taehyung, the tiger hybrid, walks out of the house letting out a loud sneeze as the sun hits his face causing the four of them to flinch at the sudden intrusion and Namjoon to almost drop the tiny animal.

"Why are you guys yelling? It's so ear- what is that?" He points to the small lump of fur in Namjoon's large hands. "We don't know but it's still breathing, granted the breathing is shallow but it's breathing nonetheless." Yoongi responds almost flatly, taking the tiny animal out of the wolf hybrids grasp before he could accidently crush it, bringing it up the porch steps and inside the house.

The bunny hybrid practically leaps into Seokjin's arms with his bright bunny smile and messy bed head, rubbing against his neck. "Good morning to you too love bun, watch out I need to get to the medicine cabinet."

Seokjin pats the muscular bunny hybrid on the back before gently pushing him out of the way, laying down a clean dish towel so Yoongi could put the weak animal on it. "What's going on?" Jimin, the red panda hybrid, asks rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"It looks like a sugar glider- is it a hybrid?" Taehyung levels his eyes with the towel the panther hybrid set the animal down on. "Safe to say so, I mean, sugar gliders aren't exactly common around here and it looks pretty beat up too. But don't touch it, could have rabies or something." Yoongi mumbles his warning and the room falls silent when Seokjin comes back with a first aid kit, opening it up to clean a few cuts he could see and wiping the blood off of its fur.

The animal squeals when the small alcohol soaked cotton bud meets the first cut but that's the only sound it makes as Seokjin backs up for a moment only to come back and finish cleaning it up. "It's so cute." Jimin coos at it gently stroking it's back with his index finger when it's eyes shoot open and it bolts forward fumbling off the marble countertop and towards the upstairs.

"Fuck! Someone grab it!" Yoongi yells as it slips through his fingers for a second time.

All seven of them scramble around the living room lurching forward to grab the slippery creature before it bolts upstairs and out of sight. "Way to go panda! What did I say? Don't. Fucking. Touch. It." Yoongi growls at the hybrid pronunciating his last sentence with authority causing Jimin's ears the flatten against the top of his head. "How was I supposed to know it would freak out like that hyung?" The panther rolls his eyes as he stalks upstairs with Namjoon and Seokjin in tow.

The three of them spend half the morning looking for the hybrid and Seokjin has to call into work for the day. Even Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook start looking for it after being berated by the panther hybrid.

Yoongi glares at the red panda hybrid every time he crosses his path, Jimin keeps his head down his cheeks a light shade of pink, the only time Yoongi has ever looked at him like that was when he was being a little brat in bed and even then it was a little scary. "Hey guys? I think I found it."

Everyone bolts towards their shared bedroom to meet the wolf hybrid standing at the end of their bed pointing upwards to the canopy above it, they can see a small round shadow sitting in the middle. Seokjin is the last to arrive as he just got off the phone with the law firm he works at.

Looking upwards he swats the wolf hybrid away from the edge of the bed quietly calling out to the sugar glider. "Hey it's okay honey, we won't hurt you we just want to help, please come down baby." He coos in hopes his soft words will convince the animal to come down, the others gather around the bed as the small shadow shifts over to a bedpost looking over the edge for a solid minute.

"That's it sweetheart be care-" Seokjin doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence before it jumps off and lands in Jungkook's soft curly black hair between his floppy bunny ears with a thump that's barely audible. "Oh my god! Jesus fucking Christ on a stick! Warn me next time, squeak or something." Seokjin grasps his chest crumpling his dress shirt in his hand like he just had a heart attack leaning against Namjoons chest and the wolf scents the top of his head wrapping his older mate in his arms trying to calm his frayed nerves.

"I think it likes me hyung, it's so cute! Can we keep it?" Jungkook beams with a bright smile as Taehyung attempts to lift the petrified sugar glider from his head but it grips onto Jungkook's curls tighter causing the tiger hybrid to pull his hair by association.

The bunny doesn't seem to mind probably because he's used to his long curls being pulled on. "I don't know Kookie, we have to see if it has an owner first but, for the time being I guess it's staying on your head because it doesn't seem to want to move."

Seokjin ends up making it to work albeit few hours late but he gets there nonetheless leaving his six mates to deal with the new hybrid in the house until he can find out if it has an owner or not.

Meanwhile, at the house everything proceeds as normal well, minus the sleeping hybrid that has moved from Jungkooks curls to the hood of his jacket. "I hope Jin is able to keep the glider, it's cute and seems to like cuddling just like bun does."

Hoseok rests his head in the palm of his hand as he watches their youngest mate play video games with Taehyung in the living room from the island in the open kitchen. "I hope it does have an owner, one less mouth to feed." Yoongi groans crossing his arms against his chest he's not exactly angry with the mysterious hybrid that just appeared in his mates rose bushes last night he's more along the lines of apprehensive for lack of a better word.

"Careful Yoons, jealousy is so not your color." Jimin chuckles patting the older hybrids leg he's been laying on in the breakfast nook for the past hour. "I'm not jealous of the damn thing, just annoyed." He growls pushing the panda off his lap and onto the hard floor.

"Hey, that hurt!" Jimin pouts crossing his own arms looking up at the panther from the cold tile floor. "Then don't say stupid shit." He quips back a small smirk forming on his lips as Jimin picks himself up off the floor and onto one of the barstools at the end of the island in the kitchen with a huff.

"Would it be so bad though? I mean granted we don't know if the hybrid is male or female but does it really matter at the end of the day? There has to be a reason you guys found it shifted into its animal form this morning."

While that was true, hybrids didn't normally shift into their animal counterparts unless it's willingly or by copious amounts of stress on their bodies, the reason this helpless little sugar glider made it into their mates bushes either last night or early this morning was something the hybrid would have to tell them when it felt safe enough to do so and that could take anywhere from hours to weeks, maybe even months.

"We just have to show the glider it's safe here with us that's it." Namjoon chimes in shrugging his broad shoulders and making his way to the fridge for a fresh glass of orange juice pausing for a moment when Jimin tells him what Yoongi did to him just a minute ago asking the wolf kiss his elbow to make it feel better only for him to blow on it.

_____________________________

A few hours have gone by and the glider has been on full alert the entire time running around out of pure survival instincts and the once calm household turns chaotic as all hell breaks loose when the damn thing makes it to the ceiling fan a good foot or so farther off the ground than the bedpost from it's prior freak out.

"What the hell did you guys do this time?" Yoongi shouts at nobody in particular because they were all just sitting in the living room quietly watching a random youtube video when the poor thing ran out of Jungkooks hood scratching the back of his neck in the process.

"What do you mean? We didn't do anything! It just started wigging the fuck out!" Hoseok yells back as they all stare up at the fan hoping, praying even, that the heavy breathing sugar glider doesn't fall off of the fan blade as it slowly spins around.

"Did we get too loud? Maybe that's the problem, it doesn't like loud noises." Jimin proposes as he cautiously watches the scene above him with a towel at the ready to catch the hybrid if it does end up falling.

A few more minutes go by with all six of them keeping a close eye locked onto the fan above them, even talking in hushed tones to be extra safe. Even Yoongi is internally freaking out for the safety of the glider that's practically knocking on death's door, with one slip of it's tiny paw it's a goner for sure.

Seokjin walks through the door of his home toeing off his shoes next to the messy pile by the door, with a deep sigh he starts putting the shoes back on the rack, after he was done he barely puts his keys into the bowl on the table in front of him before he hears Namjoon yell.

"Fuck! No don't-" His sentence cut short followed by a hard thud and muffled groan which causes Seokjin to mentally say to hell with it dropping his briefcase and coat onto the floor sprinting into the open living room to find his mates looking a little worse for wear and Jimin laying face first on the carpet with a towel stretched out in his arms, located within said towel is the ever troublesome sugar glider.

"I thought it was going to sleep all day, what the hell happened while I was at work?" He scans the room, looking between his six mates before Yoongi angrily snaps at him, something he hasn't done since Seokjin found him in an alleyway beaten half to death all those years ago. "Your little chaos squirrel happened! It won't stop going haywire at every single loud noise! It just jumped from the ceiling fan for fuck sake Jin!"

Yoongi yells pointing from the fan to the panda hybrid who is now sitting up curling the towel around the trembling glider. "Well I guess you'll be happy to know that she has owners who are very worried and want her home as soon as possible! No more chaos! Are you fucking happy Min Yoongi?"

Seokjin snaps using Yoongi's full government name as his eyes start to gloss over. The fact that he thought screaming at him would get anything done hurt his heart but what hurt him the most was knowing exactly who her owner is, a disgusting old man with a nasty habit of using hybrids for his own gain or worse his own perverted desires.

The house goes quiet, so quiet in fact you could hear a pin drop and it would still be too loud, the seven of them almost forgetting about the small creature tucked away in Jimin's arms. "Jin baby, I'm sor-" Seokjin raises his hand and Yoongi stops talking before he even begins, walking over to Jimin whose ears lay flat against his head with his tail wrapped tightly around his waist from all the yelling, holding onto the towel for dear life.

"Chimmy, hand her over, she needs to go home." Seokjin holds his hands out waiting for the panda hybrid to hand the glider over to him but he refuses to release her. "Can't she stay one night? Her scent is rancid Jinnie, she's terrified and started squirming in my arms the second you mentioned her owners. Please, just one night?" Jimin all but begs at Seokjin's feet to let her stay, he didn't even know her name or her story yet the pink haired hybrid clearly wasn't ready to let her go just yet. Seokjin puts his hands on his hips with a long sigh pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Just for tonight then she goes back to her own home." He says through gritted teeth, the panda hybrids eyes light up and he opens the towel unable to hide his excitement. "Did you hear that glider? You get to stay even if it is just for tonight!" He exclaims his tone somewhat sad, though the glider hardly moves until she catches a glimpse of the bunny hybrid and his soft off white floppy ears quickly jumping from the towel and running straight up his muscular body, into his long curly hair nuzzling into the base of his ears causing him to thump his foot repeatedly on the ground, laughing happily with his big bunny smile gracing his handsome face.

Later that night after they had eaten take out from a local pizzeria and fed the glider some fruit which she happily scarfed down so fast Seokjin thought she was going to choke. They're all laying in bed quietly huddled against each other for warmth, the sugar glider is happily tucked away within Jungkooks hood once again, letting out the softest of purrs.

"Jin?" Yoongi whispers into Seokjins ear as he nuzzles his nose onto the nape of his neck, his mate doesn't reply right away and keeps his back turned to him.

"Baby please, I said I was sorry." The panther wraps his arms around his mates middle giving him a light squeeze causing the older man to chuckle. "I know honey, it's just- I happen to know her owner-" Seokjin pauses to roll over and face Yoongi tracing shapes onto his bare chest as Yoongi's jet black tail curls around his leg.

"Her owner is a no good backstabbing motherfucker, gets what he wants how he wants jackass, overweight perverted bastard that the firm just can't seem to pin down."

Yoongi stares at him for a moment, never has he heard such colorful words to describe a human leave his gentle mates mouth in rapid succession like this, it was actually kinda hot, though he wouldn't say that out loud not at the moment anyway.

"You out of all of us should know what her home life is like with scum like him." Which of course he did know, Yoongi came from a home similar to hers, some rich fuck wanted an exotic hybrid only to use and abuse him for years until one night when he finally let his animalistic instincts take over, almost killing the man and his wife in the process which caused him to be beaten bloody by his thugs and thrown onto the streets to die.

"I wish you would've told me that earlier." He says calmly pulling his mate closer laying his head onto his toned chest. "You didn't let me get a word in before you started yelling at me." Seokjin whispers and sheepishly looks up at the panther who is already staring down at him.

"I said I was sorry baby, please don't tell me you're still mad at me because I don't think I can take it much longer." Feigning pain rather dramatically like the tiger or coyote hybrid would have, he receives a light slap on his shoulder. "You're too serious to be this dramatic Yoons. Leave the theatrics to Hobi and Tae will you?" Yoongi flashes his gummy smile before giving his mate a rather long apologetic kiss before turning the light out behind him.

___________________________

Early the next day Seokjin wakes up to the sound of snoring rather than his shrill alarm, it was Saturday and the sun was shining right into his eyes as it rose up into the warm colored sky.

He untangles himself from both the panther and wolf hybrid who had wiggled his way against his back sometime in the night, standing to his full height and rolling out his broad shoulders he makes his way into the bathroom, brushing his teeth and his doing his skin care routine.

Once finished he walks back to the bed to take one last look at his lovers, his mates, all curled onto the bed before he leaves the room only something was different, a tuft of hair to be exact, a bright color he's not used to seeing laying in his bed cuddled into Jungkooks chest with his arms curled tightly and protectively around her shoulders under the covers.

He steps over to the opposite side of the bed and pulls the blankets back a little causing her to shiver and the soft, slightly pointed ears on top of her head to twitch at the unwelcomed cold air that hits her hot skin.

Seokjin freezes hoping he didn't just wake her up but he relaxes once more when her head turns a little giving him full view of her face. He could tell she was young no older than twenty-three maybe, her sun kissed skin held a few tiny constellations on her cheekbones, her pouty lips were dry and cracking in the corners from dehydration and her obviously once chubby cheeks were sunken in like she hadn't been able to eat anything for days, weeks maybe.

What he didn't particularly like was the flashy collar weighing heavily on her neck not only that but the marks and bruises left on what he could see of her body by who, god only knew at this point.

Seokjin lays the blanket back over her giving the glider a forehead kiss as Jungkook absentmindedly pulls her back against his body, his snoring slowly getting louder and louder the more his subconscious pulls him back into the dreaming world.

Ever so leisurely, as is the norm on the weekends for the seven mates, one by one they wake up after Seokjin has had his cup of coffee and is making a savory smelling breakfast in the kitchen, walking around him to make sure they didn't bump into him because the last time, Namjoon was in the kitchen he had bumped Seokjin's elbow and what was supposed to be the gravy for the biscuits he was baking in the oven turned into a new paint job for the stove and the wall behind it.

"Is Kookie going to come down or do I need to pry him off of her?" Seokjin teases the bunny hybrid who isn't here to defend himself as Jimin is the last one besides the two still in bed to arrive at the table for breakfast.

"Probably, I mean he's stuck to her like bees on honey, I tried to wake him up but he refuses to budge an inch." Jimin replies sitting down in his respective seat between Yoongi and Taehyung.

Seokjin places the last bowl of food onto the table taking the apron Namjoon bought for him on valentine's day last year off, hooking it next to the other five before sauntering off to the bedroom.

Seokjin quietly makes his way to the closet taking out a plain shirt, a roll of unused boxers and some sweat pants for the sugar glider hybrid to put on, only now realizing he doesn't even know her name. "How could I not think to ask that bastard her name yesterday? Stupid."

Upon closing the closet door his gaze is met with a very skittish wide awake hybrid and to make things more awkward she was naked, clutching the duvet against her chest. The bunny hybrid nowhere within his line of sight.

Taking a deep breath he approaches her with caution because if her human form is anything like her sugar glider counterpart she will run and she will climb anything to get away from whatever or whoever came towards her.

Her actions surprise him further when she just stares at him with wide pale blue eyes keeping track of his every move. Her eyes darting everywhere at once pausing briefly on the closed bathroom door only to land back on Seokjin.

"Hey darling, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you, here." He sets his clean clothes onto her lap giving it a light tap. "These are for you, I'm assuming Kookie is in the bathroom?" He asks her quizzically, she opens her mouth only to close it again hesitantly nodding just as the bunny hybrid comes out of the bathroom tying his basketball shorts to fit his narrow waist.

"Morning Y/n, I'm sorry if I woke you up. Oh, good morning hyung." Jungkook smiles his big bunny-like grin before walking towards the pair on the bed giving Seokjin a kiss on the lips and Y/n a peck on the forehead a pink blush creeping onto her cheeks. "I'll see you downstairs?" Seokjin smiles at his youngest mates show of affection towards her before quickly nodding his gentle features adorning his own unique grin.

Downstairs in the breakfast nook the rest of the hybrids are making small talk while stuffing their faces with the breakfast their mate had cooked before the bunny hybrid hopped down the stairs with a pep in his step. "What's got your tail wagging this morning Kook?"

Although his tail was nothing but a soft cotton ball on his lower back it was indeed swinging back and forth at the speed of light it seemed. "She's so beautiful hyung, she's got these beautiful pale blue eyes and her hair, oh my god."

He stops to take his seat between Hoseok and Namjoon before he starts up again as Yoongi fixes him a plate. "Not to mention her heavenly scent, she smells like a lavender field and a pine tree forest with a hint of sweet coconut."

Jungkook practically swoons over the girl leaning onto Hoseok's shoulder as he covers his chest with a wistful gleam in his eyes. "Easy there lover boy, don't go getting yourself attached just yet, she's supposed to be going back to her owners today." The panther hybrid reminds him setting his full plate down in front of him and Jungkook digs in with a slight pout.

"Not if I have anything to say about it, did you see the bruises on her? Just the solid ring around her throat alone is enough to make me hunt the bastard down myself." Taehyung interjects pointing nowhere in particular with his fork, his deep voice laced with venom when he mentions her visible abuse.

Anyone with a pair of eyeballs could see she wasn't living in a happy home like they were. "Tae come on man, you're supposed to back me up here. We all knew what was going to happen once we woke up this morning."

Yoongi's voice, always calm and serious, waivered as those last few words fell from his lips. "I don't care, I refuse to let her go back there only to be beaten and sexually abused by that poor excuse for a human. Someone should string him up by his toes and let all the blood rush to his head until he passes out or better yet, dies."

Though his out of pocket comment was oddly dark for the otherwise cheery hybrid, his feelings were mostly shared by the other five sitting at the table.

Seokjin arrives at the table finally able to put his ass in a chair for the first time this morning, shifting it forward to make himself a plate. "So? What's the verdict?" Yoongi deadpans not letting his only older mate take a bite of his food quite yet.

"I can't- I mean- just looking at her skin ruined by those dark purple bruises and cuts- not to mention that gaudy choker around her neck." He scoffs remembering how only moments ago exactly how difficult it was to convince her to take the son of a bitch off just to take a shower.

"It's been so long since she's taken it off that it's caused an angry rash to form around her throat for fuck sake." He angrily throws the spoon back into the bowl and sits back in his chair with a thud, his mates catching his scent of stale bubblegum and burning vanilla sticks coming off of him in waves.

"I am not letting her go back to that place." He pauses briefly to take a bite of his lukewarm potatoes. "No chance in hell am I going to hand her over to her abuser when I can just as easily take him down in the courtroom if he so much as blinks in my general direction."

Seokjin can't growl like his mates but if they had to guess, it would sound like someone revving a diesel engine continuously, low and guttural if he could.

The loud laughter rings throughout the house, floating through the air and quite infectious if Y/n had anything to say about it. "Funny bunny." Her voice is rough and hoarse but that doesn't stop her from giggling at the hybrid who had his chopsticks stuck in his mouth like a walrus making ungodly noises.

The seven of them turn their heads with wide eyes to face her completely bewildered by her small gravelly voice and smiling at her short frame standing with her little feet turned inwards, she was wearing the pair of boxers Seokjin had given her, they squeeze the top of her thick thighs with the shirt she was given hanging just below her chubby little stomach but it was all covered by Jungkooks hoodie that she had spent the night in.

Her hair was long, bright and beautiful, her pale blue almost silver eyes shone brightly compared to her black glider eyes. "Morning sugar, we saved you a plate. Here take my seat and eat something, please?"

Y/n's head snaps in the direction of the coyote hybrid who is now standing behind his chair with his empty plate replaced by hers, she tries to hide away from the predator hybrid by running behind the kitchen island and sitting on the floor.

Jungkook stands from his seat, taking the chopsticks out of his mouth and rounding the kitchen island, kneeling beside her. "Hey baby it's okay, they're not going to hurt you. They just want to take care of you and I promise you they do a good job too, I mean look at me."

The bunny points to himself puffing his chest out with pride. "I couldn't be more than well taken care of now, do you want to sit next to me?" Jungkook flashes his bunny smile offering the skittish hybrid his hand in hopes she'll come out of her little hiding spot behind the counter. Y/n timidly looks between him and his tattooed hand a few times before she takes it and stands up waddling her way behind Jungkook over to the table where his six mates were waiting.

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deansapplepie · 10 months ago

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Can’t promise ya that Sweetheart

Daryl x f!Reader | Established relationship | pos savior war | Dad Daryl | little fluff

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating (not Daryl, of course), memory loss, Negan, a little bit of violence, mentions of death, killing threat, a little part of blood, pregnancy, mentions of birth, mentions of torturing, mentions of cancer. (If I forgot anything tell me) Minors do not interact, 18+.

A/N: This is a small story based on this dream that I had in the end of the last year. Finally decided to write something about it.

It didn’t go exactly what I had planned because of the dream, but here it is. Also, I wanted it to be a small drabble, but I turned it into a big one-shot.

Another thing is… Daryl and Reader have a 6 year old son, but in no moment I wrote his name in the history. I received a critique about reader’s son in The Spitting Image, so I’m still deciding if I’ll continue with DJ in my Dad Daryl fics, or if it will be only for The Spitting Image and I’m coming up with another name in my other fics. Just to make it clear, I have no intention in changing DJ’s name in The Spitting Image.

When the Greenes found you, the world had already ended. In one of Otis’ hunting leaves he encountered you, all bloody, your hair a mess of dried blood and dirty. At first he thought you were dead, but then you let a small cry and he checked your vital signs confirming you were indeed alive. That day he didn’t go back to the farm with good meat, he took you in his arms and arrived at the house urging for help.

The moment you woke up, your mind was blank. There was nothing there. No memories. At least, you still had the ability of speaking, reading and writing, besides that, not a thing. You didn’t even remember your own name. You didn’t remember the world before dead people started walking. Some people said you were lucky, because you couldn’t miss something you didn’t remember, but most of the times it was frustrating not knowing about who you were.

Without a name or a history, the Greenes soon adopted you, giving you the name Y/N, because they said it suited you and their last name. You liked how Y/N Greene sounded, and you liked the people that took you in and soon made you love them and be part of the family. Everyday was a new day to discover what you liked or disliked, to learn something new and learn who you were.

The group from Atlanta came, and with them also came a lot of trouble and a certain mysterious hunter that refused to leave your thoughts. He didn’t even looked at you, why were you dreaming about him? Little did you know you never left his thoughts too, and that was incredibly annoying. The farm burned down and all of you lost your safe place. You took the road, then you arrived at the prison and with the months passing you grew closer and closer to Daryl Dixon, but you were only friends. Until… after the people from Woodbury joined you and an event brought you two together.

And that was how you ended up like this, married to him, a 6 year old son and one more baby on the way. Now you lived in Alexandria a community that gave you a home again, a small sense of normalcy and where your strange family only grew. You had all been through a lot already… the prison fell, you were almost eaten by cannibals and you had survived a war against a group called The Saviors, which leader Negan killed many of your friends and broke and destroyed your husband. The first time you listened to the name of the worst person you heard of it made you feel something strange, just like if your guts were being pulled by an invisible hand, but you couldn’t tell why. Maybe it was just because he was a sick son of a bitch.

He killed Glenn which was like your brother in law as you and Maggie had become instantly sisters. He killed Abraham the gigantic ginger of a big heart and a mouth dirtier than a sailor’s. And his worst crime, in your heart, was what he made Daryl go through. He tortured, humiliated and broke piece by piece of the man you loved, and that you couldn’t forgive. You never got to see him. That sounds strange, but every time he showed up you wasn’t in Alexandria, the missions everybody went you couldn’t go because of your enormous belly that had the biggest baby you had ever saw, damn Daryl and his genes, that baby was hard to push - but yet here you were carrying another one. In the final battle you had your baby Dixon in your arms, so you never got to see the man. Even after Rick almost killed him, but in the last seconds asked Siddiq to save him.

You never had to see the man you despised and hated so much, until now that you were walking on Alexandria streets going to get his food and deliver it to him. You managed to keep the distance from him the past 6 years and nobody ever asked you to do a thing for him. Maybe because he brought back the memories of what he did to Daryl, or maybe because you agreed and supported Maggie about killing him. But now, you were making a favor to Gabriel, Michonne wasn’t in town and Rosita needed him. So why not? It couldn’t be so difficult, you repeated the steps on your head: handcuff him, open the cell, put the tray on the floor, close the cell and release him. After that you just needed to leave and never look at him again, at least you hoped so.

When you entered the dark room only illuminated by the daily light that came from the small window, it sent chills through all your body and you felt your “little pear” get agitated in your belly. ‘Lil pear’ was the nickname Daryl gave the baby you had in your belly, because he was pretty sure that it was a girl this time. You didn’t have an opinion about it, but you knew he would be happy if it was a sweet little girl like his ‘lil ass kicker’. You put the tray on a chair and before catching the handcuff on your pocket, you caressed your already big belly to assure your baby that nothing bad would happen.

“Never thought you’d ever come to visit me.” You heard his voice and once again it was like someone was pulling your guts.

“Believe me, I tried to come for a deadly visit, but I wasn’t allowed to.” You replied, handcuffs already in your hands. “Hands outside the bars.”

“I know you hate me, but you wouldn’t dare to kill me.” He put both hands outside the cage so you could handcuff him.

“Don’t tempt me Negan, or I may take the offer.” You handcuffed him and now took the key to open the cell.

“You really enjoyed fucking Dixon, didn’t you?” People were right he knew so damn well how to make anyone lose their temper. “A precious sweet little boy the one you have.” You had opened the door.

“Never!” You kicked the side of his leg on the height of the knee, earning a grunt in pain from him. “Never talk about my child again! Don’t even look at him!”

“This isn’t how I raised you sweetie… but I’m glad you can take care of yourself in this world.” You went outside the cage to take the tray of food. “But this isn’t the way you should treat your father.”

You gave him an annoyed look. “My father is Hershel Greene, and he’s dead. So, no way a scumbag like you is my father.” Fuck, remembering Hershel made tears surface in your eyes. Damn, fucking hormones.

You lowered the maximum you could to put the tray on the floor and made a mental note to tell Gabriel you’d never help him in such activities again till the end of your pregnancy. He didn’t know how fucked up it was to squat in that situation.

“Your name isn’t Y/N. Your maiden name was Smith. You have a mole in your back, close to your shoulder. You got a scar on your left knee after you fell from your bike, you were 8…” he said and that stroke you in a way you couldn’t explain. Yes, you had a mole. Yes, you had this scar that you didn’t know how you got since you had no memories from your past. You left his cell and closed the door. “Guess, you aren’t Daddy’s pretty princess anymore…”

At that moment the unthinkable happened, a storm of memories hit you running through your mind and you had to hold yourself on the bars, or you could swear you’d fall. Your childhood. Your teens. Memories of an old life you didn’t had anymore, and the day you caught your dad cheating on your stepmom, the reason why you left them not looking back, because you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her and break her heart, but you also couldn’t look at your father’s face and don’t feel anger. A wave of anger that contained all the last years and now also your memories from the past hit you, and when you realized it, you were with your hands on his collar yanking him towards the bars, his face impossibly close to it.

“What did you do to Lucille?” You yelled at him, from all the things you could have asked or yelled at him, he wasn’t expecting this. “What happened to her?! You gave her name to a fucking bat!”

“I didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re thinking. Jesus… I couldn’t even kill her turned self.” He confessed. “She had cancer. She discovered it a little after you left… she was still in treatment when the outbreak happened.” And then he told you the short story of what happened and you blamed yourself for not being there for her, she was like a mom to you and you ran away just because you couldn’t tell her your dad was a cheater, but now he was worse, he was a psycho.

You released his hands from the handcuff and stored it on your pocket again. “I’m asking Gabriel to take the tray.” You said, you didn’t even need to tell him anything, but you didn’t know why you said.

“Can you bring the boy to meet me?” He had the audacity to ask. You snorted.

“If it depends on me, he’ll never meet you. You killed my friends, my brother… you tortured my husband, and that sweet little boy had a complicated birth because of what you inflicted in all of us, and do you think you have any right of meeting him?” He could see the tears in your eyes threatening to fall, and his heart clenched just like when you were little and would cry because you were hurt. But you’d not let it happen in front of him. You’d not cry. “If you had remained you, if you hadn’t caused so much pain, this would be a completely different reencounter.”

Once you finished talking you left the small little prison and when you turned to go up the stairs, you saw Daryl up the stairs, the look in his eyes indicating worry. He was probably looking for you, and someone probably said where you were. He saw in your eyes that you were in the verge of crying, you went up the stairs and once in front of him, you urged him to leave the place, you didn’t want him to see you crying.

You entered home, hand in hand and he took you to the sofa, sitting there with you. He put one arm on your shoulders and brought you to rest your head against his chest. “What did he tell you?” He asked and you were sure he was already thinking of a way of destroying the prisoner.

“I… I remember everything, Daryl.” You said, and the tears that you had been holding just fell down. “Negan’s my father.”

He didn’t look surprised, because he wasn’t. He knew it. For years already. Being married with the archer for so many years, made you a little observant like him and in that moment you knew there was something wrong.

“You’re not surprised.” You said, it was an affirmation, not a question. “Did you know?”

He took a deep breath, his hand on your head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how was your past with him. I was afraid it was so messed up that you would break if you got your memories back.”

“Did you never doubt my loyalty after you discovered it?” That was a difficult question, that you were not sure if you were prepared to listen to his answer. You weren’t mad at him, you kneel him and you knew he had no bad intentions on hiding it from you and to be honest, deep down you wished Gabriel had never sent you there.

“Wouldn’t have put another baby in ya if I did.” He didn’t want to be coarse, that was just the way he was and when he said that you knew he’d never doubt you. “I’ve been with ya for years, wouldn’t ever doubt you.”

“How did you discover it?” You wrapped your arms around his torso.

Some days after Negan was taken to his cell in Alexandria, he saw something through the small window that he didn’t expected. You. His daughter that had given her back to him many years ago. When the world ended, Lucille had told him to go and look for you, but he couldn’t do that, he needed to take care of her. Months passed and you never showed up at home, he thought you would try to get home if the apocalypse happened, so he just assumed you were dead. He saw you with Daryl and a cute baby in your arms, and that’s how he discovered you were the pregnant wife he had and everyone talked about, but he never got to meet. Also, you were going by a different name. He’d never think it was you. He was a monster, but he was a father, and he was so glad you were alive and well… but he also knew you probably hated him more than anything. Next time Rick visited him, he talked to him and asked to see you. Of course the ex-sheriff didn’t tell you, he told Daryl and that day the hunter had a ‘nice’ conversation with the ex Savior.

“Ya’re not telling her anything, ya aren’t even going ta look at’er or ma son.” He didn’t want to be controlling, abusive or anything of it, but he knew you were better not knowing it. It would destroy you if you knew you were related to a monster. “If ya try anything, a single little thing, I’m gonna kill ya and feed you to the walkers.”

He listened to Daryl, for long 6 years, but he didn’t have many options since he was in his cell all the time and you never came close to it. Everything organized for you to not do so, Rick, Michonne and Carol knew, all of the three knew and would make everything so you didn’t need to have contact with Negan, that’s until the day you decided to do a favor for Gabriel.

“He wasn’t a bad father.” You said when your husband finished telling you what happened. “To be honest, I have mostly good memories of him. A year before the outbreak, or so, I caught him cheating on my stepmom. I ran away, because I didn’t have the courage to tell her and I was so angry at him. I was dramatic and childish.”

“Nah, you weren’t. That was how ya felt, and it’s ok.” He kissed the top of your head and squeezed you in his arms.

“Do you think it would have made any difference if I had stayed?”

“I dunno. There’s no way to know. But one thing I know, we wouldn’t have met, and we wouldn’t have our precious lil boy or our lil pear on the way.” He caressed your belly while talking and he was right… things happened how they were supposed to happen and there was no way you could know if anything would have been different.

Soon the door opened and your little ray of sunshine came running directly to the living room and hugging you and his ‘little sis’, like he was now calling the baby. You thought it was because Daryl would say all the time it was a girl, but he would always say it wasn’t. ‘Kids know these things, they can feel’, he would say.

“Momma, how was your day? Did my lil sis kick a lit today?” He asked with his little face leaning on your stomack and his big blue eyes shining.

“My day was wonderful baby. Little pear kicked just a little today.” You said, your hand on top of your head. “How was school? Who brought you?”

“It was good. Jude brought me.” He said and then he looked at Daryl. “Daddy, you forgot me.”

“I’m sorry little man.” He sat his son on his lap. “Momma needed ma help.”

When he heard you had been sent to take food to Negan, he forgot about everything and ran to get to you. He was so afraid of what could happen that he forgot to take the kids. It was safe, it was inside Alexandria, but either way he needed to be there, to teach your son could only trust you, he shouldn’t go with anybody to anywhere, unless it was people you really trusted.

“Why don’t you go up, put away your things and wait momma to take your bath?” Daryl told the little boy and he went immediately upstairs.

Daryl got up and headed to the hall, you followed him and saw he was ready to leave.

“Where are you going?” You asked, clueless, you had just arrived home and your kid was back.

“Gonna have a talk with Negan.” He said. He was so good at comforting you that you didn’t notice he was boiling in anger. He had told him to not say a thing and he just opened his big mouth!

“Babe, he’s an asshole. We already know it, just let him be. I guess I made everything clear to him.” You tried to soothe him, both your hands enveloping his face.

“I gave him a warning, and still he made ya cry.” He delicately took your hands from his face and walked to the door.

“Daryl, please… don’t kill him.” You had confused feelings, you hated Negan for so many reasons and now at the same time remembering he was your father…

“Can’t promise ya that, sweetheart.” He opened the door and left.

You didn’t know if you believed in God anymore, but in that moment you prayed to whatever force there were that Daryl could calm down and also that none of this mess harm your son and your unborn baby.

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