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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 2 days

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Shaking (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have an anxiety attack in a public setting, but luckily, the doctor is there to help you through it.

Word Count: 2450

Warnings: Anxiety attack, mild cursing, mostly just ANGST and then comforting FLUFF

A/N: Wanted to write Spence comforting the reader during a panic attack. Fanfiction is better than therapy, right? At least, it’s cheaper! Also not my GIF

——

“You don’t want to just order it online?” Spencer asked as you walked beside him down the sidewalk. His longer legs would typically mean that he’d be several steps ahead of you, but he always slowed his pace so you wouldn’t have to strain to keep up with him. He also walked on the outside of the path because, let’s face it, he was a gentleman.

You shook your head. “No, I want the whole experience,” you said excitedly as you walked, your face lighting up in anticipation. You were on your way towards a local bookstore, where the third book in your favorite series was being released today. The bookstore was going to be packed, but you were so excited to be one of the first ones in the door, to get your hands on a physical copy. “I don’t ever do things like this, but it’ll be something I think about every time I look at the book sitting on my shelf.”

Spencer nodded, lifting his hand, his thumb and forefinger in an O-shape as he spoke. “Ah, the age-old concept of symbolic treasures. One of the main reasons why souvenirs are such a prevalent part of going on vacation. Did you know the tradition dates back to Ancient Egypt?”

You shook your head as you continued to walk with him. Your boyfriend carried on without fault. “As far back as 2200 B.C, Egyptian Prince Harkhuf traveled to what is now known as Sudan and returned with all sorts of objects to present to his father, the pharaoh,” Spencer explained. His words spat out quickly, compulsively, as though they had to exit his encyclopedic brain. “He brought back items such as incense, ivory, even the skins of leopards to show off to his father.”

“I had no idea,” you told Spencer as you neared the bookstore, smiling sideways at him. You loved it when he spouted off facts like that, like he had to get the information out or else he’d explode. He had confessed to you more than once before that most people found it weird or off-putting or even annoying, but not you. Rather, you loved learning new things. Whatever information he had to share with you was always relevant in one way or another, and it was just one of the reasons why you loved spending time with him - he made you a more knowledgeable, well-rounded person.

Before either of you could say much else, you’d reached the back of the line of the bookstore. You checked the time on your phone. The store would open in about fifteen minutes. The line stretched down at least a full block, from what you could see. Lots of people dressed like characters from the books, shuffling their feet in excited anticipation.

There were at least a hundred people in the line, and after a minute or two, a couple dozen more had filed in behind where you stood. You pursed your lips for a moment, scanning the crowd until your eyes met Spencer’s.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, inclining his head to the side.

You shook your head. “Nothing,” you said. “Just… lot of people.”

Spencer nodded understandingly, then reached down to take your hand. Your fingers twined with his and he squeezed his palm against yours. “I’m right here,” he reminded you. You didn’t love crowds. They always made you feel anxious, perhaps even a little claustrophobic. You and Spencer had gone to a fairly crowded French film festival a few months ago and there hadn’t been an organized line to enter; rather, it had been a cluster of people, all pressed together. And you had felt like you couldn’t breathe. Spencer’d had to pull you to a seat off to the side so you could catch your breath, and you’d missed getting a seat up front like you’d been hoping for.

Right now, you were okay, though. There were people in front of you and behind you, but they weren’t flush against you like they had been waiting for the film festival to open. And Spencer was holding your hand, and you were outside, with the cool, spring morning breeze hitting your face. It was fine. You were going to be fine. You inhaled deeply and exhaled, then nodded your head, feeling the anxiety dissipate. “I’m good,” you told Spencer, looking up at him.

Spencer nodded. He squeezed your hand once again before letting go, only so he could wrap his arm around your shoulders and tug you so you leaned against his chest. He kissed the top of your hair. “It’s going to be just fine,” he promised you, and you just smiled to yourself.

About ten minutes later, the store opened. You only knew that because the line started moving, and more quickly than you thought. You squealed in delight and matched the pace of the people in front of you, Spencer by your side with an amused grin on his face. He loved books just as much as you did, if not more, but this outing was definitely just for you. He’d read the other preceding books in this series (literally just because you asked him to and it took him an hour, tops), but he wasn’t a total geek for it like you were.

You finally made it inside the bookstore, a small business, a local place. You’d been inside several times before, but you hadn’t realized just how small the building actually was until you stepped in now. It was two stories, but everyone was tightly packed, with the people and the bookshelves crowding around you as you made it fully inside the store. There was even a line to go up to the second floor, like a queue at an amusement park.

There was little to no breathing room. Everyone was talking as they waited their turn to grab a copy of the new book, and the sound seemed to bounce off the walls and the ceiling and smack you right in the ear. The air felt thick despite the front door and handful of windows being opened, allowing the cool spring breeze to ruffle the pages of the paperbacks on display.

But it wasn’t refreshing. Rather, it was another stimulant that caused the neurons in your brain to fire even faster. You felt your palms get slick. You felt your heart start to pound, and your knees wobble as you shuffled forward in the line. What were you even waiting in line for? You momentarily forgot, blinking a few times before looking up at the man beside you. Spencer was engrossed in looking around the bookstore, the corners of his mouth quirking upward as he seemed to find something amusing. But when his eyes came full circle back to you, they were immediately filled with concern. “Y/N?” He asked softly, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You couldn’t even hear him. The sound of his voice just bounced off your brain, like you were trapped inside of cellophane. All you could think was trapped. I’m trapped. No way out. Stuck. Caged. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe.

You felt your breathing go heavy, and your eyes fill up with tears. Your cheeks were red, bright red, judging from how hot you suddenly felt. “Leave,” you managed to choke out, your voice coming out from your throat. It felt like your throat was lined with thorns, like the words you wanted to say kept getting caught.

Spencer nodded. “Leave? Yeah. Yeah, baby, we can leave,” Spencer grabbed your hand, tugging you along behind him as he murmured “excuse me, pardon me,” to the other patrons, to get through the crowd. Moving against the crowd was so much worse than standing still. All those eyes on you, seeing your red face and the anxious tears trickling down your cheeks. It was so embarrassing, freaking out like this is such a public space. Everyone thinks I’m a freak, you thought. Your anxiety became not about the crowd, but about your anxiety, about how you were being perceived. Your breathing picked up, quickened, and by the time Spencer led you out into the morning sun, you were fully hyperventilating.

The thoughts in your head were racing at the speed of light. You hated feeling nervous like this, but moreover, you hated that Spencer had to take care of you because of it. You felt like you had ruined the day because your head wasn’t on straight, because you couldn’t stand in a crowd of people and hear the cacophony of voices and tamp down your panic.

Spencer led you down the block, about twenty feet from the store, away from the crowd, and your breath was still coming out staccato, unstable as you looked down at your shaking hands. You were crying and hyperventilating and the whole world felt like it was spinning. Spencer kept his hold on your hand and stood in front of you, squeezing his palm against yours. His eyes, those light brown irises with little flecks of green, stared into yours. “Hey, Y/N,” he said, bending his knees so his face was level with yours. “Breathe with me, okay?”

You shook your head, your eyes clamping shut. You were so mad at yourself in that moment. You didn’t want to have Spencer take care of you, to have to drag you out of a bookstore because you were having a panic attack. “Baby, you’re trembling,” you heard Spencer’s voice laced with concern. “Look at me. We’ll get through this together.”

You opened your eyes slowly, and that’s when you realized your entire body was shaking. You looked into Spencer’s eyes and he released your hand so he could cup your face. His fingers anchored under your jaw, his thumbs rested on your cheeks, and his eyes were wide, full of worry, but his voice managed to stay soothing and calm. “Follow my breath, Y/N. Do what I’m doing, okay? In for four, hold for four, out for four.”

He inhaled for 4 seconds, and you tried to follow his lead, but you just couldn’t control your lungs. “It’s okay,” he assured you as your brows furrowed, presenting frustration. “C’mon, try again.” He inhaled for 4 seconds, and you managed to match him this time. “Hold for four,” you held your breath while Spencer counted. “And out for four,” you exhaled deeply. “Good, okay, let’s do it again.”

Spencer guided your breath for a few minutes, until you finally felt like you could do it on your own. And when you finally felt yourself coming down from the rush of panic that had sent you into fight-or-flight, you wiped at your wet eyes. “I’m sorry,” you croaked, and Spencer just shook his head.

“No,” he insisted, taking your hand and placing it on his heart. You could feel it beating through his long-sleeved t-shirt. “No, you don’t have to be sorry.” You rubbed your hand against his chest, finding it comforting as you hung your head. “Baby, look at me,” he requested, and you met his eyes.

“Please don’t ever apologize for having an anxiety attack, okay? For one thing, it’s not your fault. You can’t control the chemicals and waves in your brain and how your body reacts to situations,” Spencer began, his hand on top of yours that rested on his chest. You nodded, using the heel of your free hand to wipe away your tears. The crying was over, you were fairly certain, but god, did this suck. “You also should never feel ashamed for having a panic attack, Y/N. It happened, and we’re working through it. It’s a lot like boiling a pot of water, isn’t it?”

You let out a garbled sounding laugh and your brows furrowed. “How so?” You stammered out.

“Well, you set the pot of water on the stove, right?” Spencer began, and you nodded. “And then when it starts to bubble, that’s your anxiety. Some sort of external stimulant - the stove, or, in your case, the overwhelming feeling of being in a crowd - is causing the water to bubble. And when the external stimulant increases in intensity, so too does your anxiety. And sometimes, yeah, the pot boils over.” Spencer shrugged like it was no big deal. “But then you just turn the stove off, grab a dishtowel, and clean up the mess. Problem solved.”

You cracked a half-hearted smile. “So in this metaphor, you’re a dishtowel?” You asked, curling your fingers around the fabric of his shirt.

“Technically, I think it’s a simile, but yes,” Spencer grinned as he looked in your eyes.

“But the book,” you sighed, looking back at the bookstore, which was still filtering people in and out slowly. The patrons leaving the store clutched their new copies of the book in their hands, grinning and taking pictures with their phones, laughing with their friends excitedly.

“Do you want to get back in line and try again?” Spencer asked, and you bit your cheek pensively.

“I don’t think so,” you said softly, defeatedly.

“That’s okay,” Spencer said. You loved that he wasn’t coddling you, he was just feeling it out, seeing what you were up for. “Do you want to get brunch somewhere and come back? Maybe the line will have died down by then?”

You nodded, your lips curling into a small smile. “Yeah,” you agreed. You realized your hand was still over his heart, rubbing at his chest. Your movement halted and you retracted your hand, but before your arm could fall completely at your side, Spencer scooped your hand up and kissed the back of your palm. “What if we come back and they’ve sold out of the book, though?” You asked as Spencer walked with you in the direction of one of your favorite brunch places, just a short walk from the bookstore.

“There are twenty-two independent bookstores in the D.C. metropolitan area alone,” Spencer rattled off. “If this one doesn’t have it, we’ll drive around until we find one that does.”

“What article did you read that told you how many bookstores were in D.C?” You asked. You often liked to challenge him by asking him to cite his sources.

“No article. I did a search on Google Maps last night,” Spencer explained.

“What, because you knew I’d freak out when we walked into this one?” You asked him.

Spencer shook his head. “No, just wanted to have a contingency plan in case our first stop sold out before we got there.”

“Always thinking ahead, huh, Boy Wonder?”

“Damn straight.” A smirk formed across Spencer’s lips.

You shook your head. “You’re the best dishtowel a girl could ask for.”

#spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfics #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff

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xueyidweams · 3 days

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My faves of Penacony (Aventurine & Acheron) x gn!reader who gives them a flower bouquet ramble(!!!!)

Aventurine

i have fancy gifs now woagh!

You were a bartender at a bar that was located in a pretty big casino in Penacony, where the gamblers come to drink their defeat away or celebrate their big wins. You’re pretty used to the racket and seeing the same faces and one day you see him. That gambler, he who never loses, he who has such pretty eyes and lips and he who winks at you so handsomely as you try to do your job and he who always seems to make some sort of electricity run through your whole body when your fingers brush.

You’re not a child, you know you at least like him romantically. You were gonna show your love with some flowers! That’s a classic, right? So you pick up some that you think match his pretty eyes perfectly and go to work, it’s pretty awkward but you can’t really see him anywhere else so this is your only shot.

You perk up as you’re cleaning some glasses and you hear his voice. Your heart does its routine again, beating so fast you feel like it’s gonna zoom out of your chest. You pat your chest just where your heart is and take a deep breath as he calls for his favorite drink. You make it, giving yourself an internal pep talk while doing so, and you present him with his drink. Only now, his glass is decorated with the flowers you bought for him, you decided to be more subtle at the end with a little note. “I hope you like the flowers, no match for your pretty eyes but I hope it makes you smile nonetheless.” Aeons you sucked at romance but damn it you tried and now you feel hot under the collar as you try your best to focus on your customers while aventurine’s eyes are STARING directly at your nape you can FEEL it.

You flinch a bit when he calls your name with that sultry voice of his, you go up to him trying to keep up some sort of professionalism. though that all goes down the window when he beckons you a bit closer, picks up a flower from the glass and tucks it onto your ear. “I think they look even prettier on you.” You stumble over your words as he smiles wordlessly, his eyes full of warmth you didn’t know they could hold and oh Aeons he is so much more pretty like this. Prettier closer, you really don’t want to pull away but there are customers yelling for you already and ugh!

He chuckles as he notices your obvious agitation, “go look after your customers, I’ll treat you to dinner if you’d like? Whatever you want, it’s on me.” He gets even closer, he is shorter when he’s sitting and its adorable to see him looking up at you— “if you’d allow me to privilege of getting to know you better, of course.”

Acheron

As a hotel worker for the family themselves you’re expected to be professional and helpful at all times. Always show a smile never be so impatient, they are precious guests after all.

You sigh as you clean another pool of a soda that’s not even sold in Penacony, how did that even get there? as you complain in your mind about how rude these people are to you just because you’re getting paid to clean up their messes doesn’t mean they can just—

“Hello?”

Your head snaps up and your customer smile comes back, “Hello! Anything I can help you with, miss?” She blinks at you for a moment, caught off guard by your overly cheery attitude, she looks around and then at you. her gaze feels intense, it makes you feel shy. She finally speaks, “I’m.. lost. I don’t know where my room is.” Oh, okay that’s easy.

“What was the number, miss?” She looks at you blankly again, you both sit in silence for a few seconds, and she speaks again. “I’m sorry I forgot that… too.” You sigh as you internally facepalm. Deciding that this pretty but directionally confused lady needs help, you put on your big person pants and ask for her room number from the reception and you escort her to her room. She thanks you as she looks at you from head to toe, there’s a small smile on her face.

This happens a few more times over the week, you keep helping her. her company is really nice, she doesn’t really judge and you can talk about how much of a bother she can be, she affirms your woes with a nod or a hum and thats enough honestly. worst of all.. okay look, love at first sight might be cliche but come on! she’s pretty, tall, has a nice voice and is polite to you. she even brushed a plastic leaf that got on your head and her hand dipped to your cheek, you could feel the cold metal on her fingers and the eye contact went on for a few seconds too long and you felt yourself melt. plus! she was a guest, who knows how long she’s gonna be here? better take your chances.

You give yourself a pretty short pep talk, “if yes hug her if no run away.” pretty good plan all things considered. You had a purple flower bouquet on your hands and some chocolate that was cheesily made for valentine and you got it half for the price. You knock on her door and hear a shuffle, with every step she takes your heart beats faster and faster until she opens the door and it feels like the time stops. You stutter and stumble as her eyes bore into you, she seems full of interest but it still makes you nervous to be the center of attention. “I.. I um… ah!” You can’t do it, you thrust the flowers onto her arms, she takes it and you make a run for it, you’re so dumb dumb dumb what the hell were you thinking oh Aeons she hates you now she does—

what you don’t see is her smelling the flowers and looking after your running form, a familiar yet distinct warmth bleeds to her heart. Her smile a little softer, her eyes a little warmer, she holds onto the flowers and the next time she sees you, she will have some flowers ready for you too.

#im like a machine holy moly i wanted to write for more charas but its 1 am i have classes tmrw😭#hsr aventurine #honkai star rail #aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr x reader #acheron #acheron x reader #hsr acheron #hsr acheron x reader #honkai star rail x reader

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hotluncheddie · 2 days

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Day 4: Edging

"Bi Freak"

wc: 3.5 | rated: E | tags: Sub Eddie Munson, established relationship, bisexual Eddie Munson & Steve Harrington, mean dom Steve Harrington (kinda), degradation, sub top Eddie

written for @subeddieweek <3

📸 📸 📸 📸 📸

‘Jesus, are you hard?’ Steve asks, incredulous at how fucking ridiculous Eddie’s cock can be at times. Even walking just behind him Steve must spot how Eddie’s hands shift to tug at his belt buckle, the way his gait is a little more awkward than usual.

Eddie freezes, readjusting again as Steve saunters past. Cheeks feeling a little hot over being caught. He was Subtle, or so he thought, but his jeans must just not be tight enough to hide his boner.

They're walking back to the beamer after eating at the diner in town. A few familiar faces around since its summer. The two of them included, back over from Indi for a visit to see Wayne for his birthday.

Unfortunately, seeing Wayne means staying with Wayne and while that is wonderful, the walls of the trailer are still, absolutely, the width of paper mache. So, Steve had decided the concept of sex was much too mortifying in those conditions. A different consensus from when they first got together, Eddie had pointed out. But, Steve had just laughed and kissed him, in that condescending way that just made the whole situation so so much harder, figuratively and literally.

Its been a week, basically, and Eddie’s getting desperate, and Steve is getting mean.

Eddie jogs to catch up to Steve's long strides. ‘Did you see her though? Christ Steve she, she's a vision. A fucking goddess dude.’

‘I saw I saw.’ Steve shoves his hands in his jacket, Eddie looming in close at his side.

‘Like she was something then, but now? Bigger and better, did you see? You saw them right?’ Eddie moves his arms around, cups his hands, clenches his fingers. A horny interpretive dance.

Steve sighs, faux wistfully. ‘Every day I almost forget how much of a tits guy you are, and everyday you just gotta remind me, huh? Munson? What's up with that?’ Steve jabs his elbow into Eddie’s side. Grins at the cackle it elicits.

‘You know I fundamentally disagree with that question, Stevie. No one should be subjected to a choice like that.’ Eddie laughs, swooping in close to Steve's neck for a moment, in that way he loves. Steve’s elbow coming out to make him back away.

Steve pulls his keys out of his pocket, the car coming into view, parked in the furthest corner.

‘Your tits are amazing by the way.’

Steve laughs again. ‘Thanks dude, I know. Lucky for you my ego is big enough to handle your crazy libido.’

Eddie grumbles, kicking at a can. ‘Only crazy because of the damn “no touching” rule you set.’

‘Aww’ Steve coos, ‘baby cant handle a little teasing anymore?’ He smirks at Eddie, unlocking the car but not opening the door, instead watching Eddie slump over, pouting.

Steve stalks around to the passenger side, opening the door for him and pulling his arm, shoving Eddie down onto the seat with a hand on his head.

Eddie whimpers, feels pre-cum leak out of his tip and soak into his boxers. Fuck, he’s hard - worse now. Steve’s not let him have more than a peck, more than a nighttime spoon, for days.

‘Wanna know a secret?’ Steve asks.

Eddie’s slumped on the passenger seat, feet still on concrete. He rubs his hands over his burning cheeks and peeks up at the sunshine being blocked from above. Steve leaning a forearm in the car hood, looming over Eddie, caging him in.

Steve steps right up into Eddie space, shoving his knee onto the seat right between Eddies thighs. crushing his cock. Steve leans in even closer, breath ghosting over Eddie's ear, making him shiver.

‘I know how she tastes.’

Eddie feels like all his air gets gut punched out of him, feels his fucking pupils dilate so much his vision goes blurry. He makes a strangled sort of moan. His boxers flooding with cum.

‘…Did? Did you just?’

Eddies panting so hard all he can really do is nod his head.

‘You’re so pretty.’ He slurs, staring up at Steve, haloed and lovely and how did Eddie get so lucky?

Steve huffs and rolls his eyes, but he smiles down at him, strokes his cheek and looks at him with eyes full of stars. ‘You can go again through right?’ He asks.

Eddie beams. ‘Fuck yeah!’

Steve laughs, shaking his head. He closes Eddie’s door and gets behind the wheel. Puts on his sunglasses and lays his hand on Eddie’s thigh. ‘No touching while I’m driving. Let's go break into my parents house.’

Eddie leans back in the headrest, grinning. ‘By break in, do you mean use the spare key?’

‘Sure do baby. They won't even be there.’ Steve says, and pulls out of the diner parking lot.

Back at Steves Eddie sprawls out in his bedroom, familiar in its ugliness but the mattress has always been to die for.

Eddie listens to the sound of Steve moving through the house, not sure what he’s doing. But they’ve fallen into routines like this before, Eddie waiting upstairs while Steve did whatever it was that made a big empty house like this run smooth. He works the same magic on their apartment; structuring Eddie enough to not get overwhelmed by chores and eventually listening to Eddie’s please to not do it all himself. Steve could work himself to the bone and still ask if Eddie needed a glass of water. But now they have a chart, and Eddie’s always had a knack for laundry.

But, at times like these, brain directly attached to his dick and almost nowhere else, Eddie wants to be directed.He wants Steve to do exactly as much as he wants, do so exactly as he pleases, Eddie almost an afterthought.

Yeah, Eddie wants that. He shivers, hears Steves footsteps on the staircase.

‘Unzip your jeans but don’t take them off.’ Steve says, coming into the room, searching for something.

Eddie complies quickly, standing. Steve walks out of the room.

Steve walks back in with his shirt off. Looking Eddie up and down, face blank.

He lifts the hem of Eddie’s t-shirt and shoves it in his mouth, saliva soaking the fabric between his teeth, cool air hitting his exposed nipples. ‘Show me.’ Steve says, calm and neutral, like Eddie is his doll to play with.

He pulls at the waistband of his boxers and his eyes burn as he watches Steve. Refusing to blink, refusing to miss the look on his face once he sees the mess.

Steve’s eyes roam Eddie’s face for a moment, steely and almost cold. He looks down, raises his eyebrows. Eddie feels his cock twitch at the attention, at the judgment.

Steve looks back up. ‘Look at it.’ And Eddie glances down, breath hitching at the sight of his cock covered in his own cum, some of it starting to crust but the tip still shiny and wet, leaning against the sodden fabric of his boxers.

Eddie looks back up at Steve, sees that he watched his whole reaction. Pupils blown wide and Steve's hand has migrated up to tweak at his own nipple. Jealousy burns in Eddie’s gut; that he’s not allowed to touch Steve like that, not yet.

Eddie whimpers again, he wants to kiss him, wants to eat him.

‘Fuck’ Steve murmurs, like he can read Eddie’s mind. Maybe he can, or it’s just how good Steve has gotten at reading Eddie’s face.

‘Colour?’ Steve asks.

‘Super fuckin’ green.’ Eddie says around the fabric, grinning, watching Steves smile bloom right back

‘Good’ Steve pecs his top lip. Eddie surging forward, chasing, letting the wet hem fall.

Steve stops him with a finger on his chest. His expression smoothing back into one of mild disgust. ‘So needy.’ Steve drawls. ‘Take off everything but your boxers.’ And he’s gone again, leaving Eddie to struggle out of his clothes in a rush.

Steve walks back in, now only in his boxers too, Eddie can see the outline of his cock through the material and it makes his mouth water. It takes him a second to register that Steve’s holding the Polaroid camera now too.

‘Show me, like you did before.’ Steve says, fiddling with the camera, waiting.

Eddie does as he’s told and he feels goosebumps dabble over his skin, heat rushing south so fast it makes his nipples hard.

Steve takes a photo of eddies cock covered in his own, slightly crusted, cum. The flash taking Eddie’s breath away.

But Steve just leaves again, without a word. Eddie stands stock still and hears the shower turn on, the faint sound of the camera again.

Steve comes back in flapping the polaroids. He sets the camera down and walks back over to Eddie, handing him a damp wash cloth.

‘Clean yourself off.’ He says, leaning on one hip, looking board. ‘And fold your clothes on the desk, boxers on top, they need washing.’ Eyes flashing to Eddie’s, bitchy and judgmental. Eddie moans, even more heat rushing south, his gut churning.

But Eddie does as he’s told, ignoring the heat between his thighs, Steve’s eyes on him as he settles the clothes in a neat pile. ‘Good. Now grab a pillow and kneel down. You’re gonna watch my photos develop while I shower. That sound okay?’ He asks, condensing, but the question is laced with sweetness, infused with the knowledge that Steve knows Eddie loves him like this, loves being talked to like this. But he can end it any time. Any time either of them want.

Eddie just nods, bites his lip, turning to the bed to grab a pillow and situate himself on the floor.

Steve bends and lays the photos in front of where Eddie’s kneeled. Then strokes his cheek with a thumb, making Eddie preen, blinking his eyes closed slowly.

The crack of the slap registers after the feeling, Eddie’s head turned slightly to the side. Low moan distant to his own ears.

He blinks his eyes back open, looking up at Steve’s and his pretty face. He thinks there must be spit sliding down his chin, because Steve’s thumb comes to wipe something away, dipping into Eddie’s parted lips gently, for a moment.

And then Steve turns swiftly for the door, stopping just at the threshold. Eddie eyes snapping back up from where they were looking at his ass and Steve’s stifles a smile. Eddie’s own growing slow and dopey on his face.

‘You can touch, I want you hard once I’m back. But if you cum again I’m not doing anything with you for a week.’ He says and Eddie blinks at him. Nodding as the words filter through his brain.

He closes his eyes once Steve leaves and the water turns on. Lets his fingers dance towards his cock, cheek hot and tight and he moves it at the same time he wraps around himself, shoulders hunching around another guttural moan.

Then he remembers the photos.

He looks down and laying in front of his bent knees there’s two polaroids. The one of Eddie is almost fully developed, his dark thatch of hair speckled with globs of his own cum, white in contrast and just as noticeable in half crusted patches over the pink flush of his cock. It’s a mess.

Eddie works himself at the sight, getting to full hardness with a strangled gasp. Remembering Steve eyeing it, remembering what he’d said that caused Eddie to finish so quick.

The other is still only half developed. But the photos edges are rendering sections of the familiar Harrington bathroom, white tiles and blue walls, shower curtain and the edge of the large ornate mirror. Tan skin starts to become clear, Steve’s big hand holding the camera aloft, taking his own photo using the mirrors reflection, the back of his head.

Eddie’s hand speeds up and he watches, wide eyed, as Steve’s broad shoulders come into view, the arch and strong length of his back. Eddie bites his lip again, harder, as Steve’s back ends in his bare ass perched on the counter.

The dark ring of a plug just visible between his cheeks.

Eddie strangles a cry, gripping himself hard at the base, stifling his orgasm and feeling tears spring at his eyes. Steve’s must’ve been wearing that all through their time at the diner, all through the day. Stretched and wet and Eddie clenches his thighs together, covers his mouth with his palm and squeezes his eyes shut.

‘Fuck. Fuck!’ He mumbles behind his hand, breathing shakily through his nose. Steve is something else.

Finally the shower shuts off and Steve returns. Eddie still kneeling, panting heavily, cock hard and leaking between his thighs. Still coming down from the brink. Steve just smirks at him, running a towel through his hair.

He lays down on the bed, settling against the headboard. He trails his fingers over himself, tracing his nipple and stomach before giving his cock a few tugs, getting it hard.

Eddie watches the whole thing, hands still gripping his thighs.

Eventually Steve’s eyes slide open, that little smirk on his face. He opens his arms for Eddie, motioning him in.

Eddie scrambles up and into them, kissing and sucking at Steve’s neck and shoulders. Cock already grinding desperately between Steve’s damp cheeks.

‘You liked the pictures baby?’ Steve whispers, smile in his voice, mouth hot on Eddie’s ear.

Eddie shivers and pulls back, disbelief on his face. ‘I can’t believe you.’ He gushes.

Steve smiles at him and his cheeks are flush from the shower, his damp hair is falling into his forehead. ‘Fuck, you’re so pretty.’ Eddie says, always always amazed by Steve. He needs him, wants to be inside.

He grinds again, catching Steve’s hole, relishing in Steve’s eyes rolling slightly. ‘Get me wet first.’ Steve demands pulling at Eddie’s hair, shoving his head away.

Eddie bites his lip, cock twitching, he pulls at Steve’s thighs, bending him in half. Dips low to lick a long wet stripe across his ass. Tongue pressing at Steves hole, breaching the already stretched muscle and fucking his tongue in until there’s spit sliding down Steve’s crack.

Eventually Steve pulls Eddie off by his hair, chest all flushed and nipples hard.

Reaching over Steve gets the condom and lube from his bedside table. He doesn’t live here anymore, hasn’t for years. But the remnants of their sneaking around before Steve up and left with Eddie and Robin are still there. He never completely fell out with his parents, but he didn’t really tell them where he was going either. They continue to essentially ignore Steve and Steve continues to sneak into their house whenever he’s in Hawkins and fuck his boyfriend in whichever room he pleases. It’s not ideal, but it works.

‘Gonna show me what that useless cock can do?’ Steve goads, sitting up to roll the condom onto Eddie and slicking him with lube.

Eddie whines.

He hitches Steve’s thighs up, forcing him Back flat, hands beneath his knees. Steve sighs into the touch and Eddie watches his length get slowly swallowed by Steve’s tight, wet heat.

Eddie bottoms out, watching his length disappear. He feels his balls draw up, ears ringing and he’s so close. He’s so close.

The slap makes him stutter, eye wide as he stare at Steve. ‘Do not cum.’ Steve seethes, finger in eddies face, like he’s a misbehaving child. Eddie moans, gripping Steves thighs to hold himself still, breathing deeply through his nose to stave off his orgasm.

He stays buried in Steve, willing himself back down. Panting, he feels tears prickle at his eyes again. ‘That’s it.’ Steve soothes, hand coming up to stroke over the red mark he left on Eddie’s face.

Eddie breaths, eyes closed, feels the tendrils in his gut uncoil slightly. No longer right on the brink.

Eventually he opens them, Steve’s eyes on him. Eddie leans down, hands either side of Steve’s face. He starts moving his hips again, building a steady pace.

‘You should’ve touched yourself in front of her today.’ Steve says, looking up at Eddie with that closed off look again, haughty and judgmental. Eddie moans. ‘What do you think she would’ve done? If you got your stupid needy cock out in the diner, you think she would’ve laughed?’ Steve asks, voice mean and even, the only sign of arousal the flutter of his eyelashes as Eddie thrusts especially deep.

‘Fuck Steve.’ Eddie pants, thinking about it. ‘I used to think about that while you were at Scoops’ He admits, eyes watching Steve, watching his smirk broaden.

‘Yeah? You would’ve got your big dumb cock out on the counter for me while I scooped ice cream?’

Eddie’s hips stutter, he’s getting close again. ‘Yeah, used, u-used to go jack off in the bathrooms after seeing you at that mall. In that outfit. Fuck Steve, wanted you so bad.’ Eddie whines.

Steve coos, finger trailing up Eddie’s sweaty neck. ‘Who knew the freak would be so needy’

Eddie whimpers feeling a blush spread down his chest. He moves his hips faster, wanting to get in deeper.

Steve cracks, moaning. ‘Fuck, make me cum baby, get me there.’ Steve says, gripping his own cock now. Other hand holding him in place with the headboard. Eddie going faster, deeper, grazing that spot he knows so well inside Steve.

Steve throws his head back, releasing all over himself with a shout, soft hair splayed across the pillow and cheeks flushed pink. Eddie slows, grinding. He’s so close again, so achingly hard he can feel his pre dripping out, filling the condom.

‘I think I would’ve let you. Maybe Played with your cock while I worked.’ Steve pants. ‘But only if you cleaned up after yourself.’ And he scoops up some of the cum from his stomach and chest, feeding it into Eddie’s slack mouth.

Eddie sucks, swallowing and tasting salt, flooding his mouth with saliva, some slipping out down his chin. ‘’Teve.’ He pleads, garbled. Begging for permission. His eyes wide and wet, hips unable to stop.

‘You wanna cum baby?’ Steve asks, holding Eddie’s jaw with his spit slick fingers, fucking his own hips down onto Eddie’s cock.

Eddie nods, whining, digging his fingers into the sheets, trying not to think about what will happen if he comes too soon.

‘What are you baby? Are you my little freak, my little perv?’ Steve teases.

Eddie shivers, nodding, his whole body shaking in an attempt to stave off his orgasm. Shame writhing filthily in his gut, threatening to spill.

Steve pulls Eddie closer, kissing his cheek and letting him burrow his face in Steve’s neck. Eddie licks over his moles, wants to mark him, burrow his cock inside and never leave. ‘Thats it, my dumb thing, fucking me so good.’ Steve pets over Eddie’s hair as his hips speed up, thrusting into Steve harder, the sounds of skin slapping echoing through the house.

‘Cum for me.’ Steve whispers, hot breath sending shivers down his back. Eddie’s rhythm turning sloppy and desperate as he thrusts deep one last time. Cumming and crying out into Steve’s neck, tears slipping onto Steve’s skin and Eddie clenches his teeth so hard his jaw cracks.

He cums for so long he’s almost numb, shaky and boneless as he falls on top of Steve.

Steve holds him close, threading his fingers through Eddie’s sweaty hair and whispering praise in his ear.

Eventually Eddie moves slightly from on top of Steve, letting his softening cock slip out and his head rest on Steve’s chest. Listening to his heart beat. ‘Good boy, you’re my good boy Eddie.’ Steve says softly, threading his fingers into Eddie’s curls to massage his scalp.

Eddie groans, boneless and satiated. ‘Was I too mean?’ Steve asks from above him.

‘Fuck no. Made me cum my whole brain out.’ Eddie slurs, pressing his forehead between Steve’s hairy pecs.

Steve tsks him, tugging at Eddie’s hair. The sharp pain making Eddie hiss and he sucks one of Steve’s nipples into his mouth, clamping down on top of him so he can’t wriggle away.

‘Okay, okay! Quit it, you monster.’ Steve laughs, shoving Eddie’s face off.

Eddie sits back in his heels, laughing, finally taking the condom off and tossing it onto the floor. ‘You want another shower before we head back to Wayne’s?’ He asks, petting distractedly at Steve’s pink hole, still shiny with lube.

‘Ye just gimme a sec.’ Steve says, stretching, making Eddie’s fingertip slip inside. ‘And quit playing with that, what are you, a perv?’ He asks, smirking up at him.

Eddie grins, lunging back on top of Steve and biting his shoulder.

Steve yelps and Eddie scoops him up, carrying him bridal style to the bathroom.

‘Oh! Stevie, remind me to put those polaroids in my wallet. I think I’ll get a lot of use out of ‘em.’ Eddie says, dumping Steve on the closed toilet and turning the shower on.

📸 📸 📸 📸 📸

Tag List: @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m

#longer one today #the doc for this used to be called 'bi freak wet and needy'#so had to keep the history #its finally done omg this has been on the back burner for SO long #i hope u enjoy 🥺#hotlunch #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #sub eddie week #subeddieweek #my fic #<3

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tastesousweet · 2 days

Text

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (x) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6 p7 p8 p9

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : after three resentful weeks apart, only matt and y/n could find themselves more fond of each other.

warnings : angst, fluffy, mentions of alcohol and weed, sort of proofread

mickey speaks : THANK U FOR UR PATIENCE SWEET ANGELS HERE’S THE 10TH PART FOR YOU!!! tgwtt is already in double digits 🥹 only like 8 more parts to go

THIS IS PART TEN GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST PLEASE!!!

"COME on y/n we'll have so much fun!"

you haven't had a night out in weeks.

following matt's party, you swore off alcohol until your own birthday in mid-september, afraid of the amount you'd allow yourself to consume now that you're feelings are supremely hurt and bitterness coated your tongue.

it was difficult to turn down the first week, despite the smell and taste of any drink making your stomach turn you craved the drunken effect and secretly wanted to run into matt- just to see what he'd have the nerve to say to you. but the mature, wiser part of your brain knows there is nothing good to come from spiteful drinking. so you've declined every weekend.

you know in your heart that your friends only want you to feel good and have fun with them. it's the only reason you've tolerated this current conversation for so long.

"i believe you! but i'm just saying i'll have just as much fun with this bowl of strawberries and my bed," you reach into a cabinet for one of the many off-white glass bowls.

"baby you haven't been out with us in so long, we miss you!" remi beams kicking her legs as she sits atop your counter, fully dressed and decorated for her night out (contrasting the bare face, oversized tee, and panties you wear).

you sigh and look over to the three girls huddled in your kitchen, "no, you guys know 'm not drinking right now," you shake your head and push off of the counter heading towards the fridge in search of your berries.

"i'm just confused on why you're suddenly so strict on drinking? and regardless of the drinking you could have fun without it if you loosen up a bit..." erin replies while resting her body against the wall next to remi's spot.

you roll your eyes while your face is still in your fridge before shutting it back, "i don't understand what's not clicking erin, i don't want to go out at all! i want to stay at home and be away from drunk people and watch something brainless and then i wanna go take a fucking bath. i'm so tired of having to explain and repeat myself. please go, please have a good time, and please- respectfully, mind your business."

you run water over your strawberries and andrea's eyes widen as she turns back towards the counter to pour herself another shot.

"alright, whatever.” erin shakes her head, “dre, remi, i'm gonna go wait outside this is annoying. she can stay bitter," she walks out and whispers, "bitch," under her breath before shutting the door.

it's silent for a second as you begin to harshly cut the stems off of the fruit, remi comes behind you and wraps a caring arm over your shoulder for a hug, "are you okay?"

"yes, i'm fine, you can go have fun..." you turn to face her and offer a strawberry.

"i really do miss you,” you kisses your shoulder and bites into the strawberry, “love you," she reminds you as she grabs her bag and dismisses herself to check with erin. you nod your head and continue to stare blankly as you repeatedly cut.

andrea speaks up after hearing the door fully shut. she breathes heavily as she stares down at her hands on the counter, "cariña ("honey"), you’re not a bitch.”

“i know…” your voice is small.

“i know you do. i also know something’s hurting you badly right now and i selfishly wish you’d fucking tell me so i could help.” she licks her glossed lips, “but as long as you’re being kind to yourself, i can deal with you keeping this to yourself.”

your eyes brim with salty tears and when you let out a broken sniffle she's immediately by your side. "nooo don’t cry, i’m already pre-drunk! you know i will too!" you try to continue preparing your fruit but andrea turns your body to make room for a warm hug. you're quick to tuck your face into her perfumed neck and let out your feelings through cry's.

you had always thought that what andrea (or anyone) didn't know about your sex life with matt wouldn't kill her, but quite frankly it's killing you. you want to tell her everything he’s ever made you feel- for all andrea knows matt was once a silly crush and currently a little less than a friend to you.

but at the same time you just know she would tell you to stop seeing him if she knew everything. she would remind you that at your core you are far too caring and attached to handle recurring casual sex with him in the first place.

"i'm so sorry, drea. i really wanna tell you but i’m not ready." you croak pitifully.

not ready to accept the embarrassment of wanting him to like you this bad.

and for someone as willingly vulnerable as you, you’re especially not ready to hear her scold you a little for somehow hurting your own feelings and putting your friendship with erin on a thin line over some guy.

your words only confuse her brain more, but she can only continue to rub circles into your back and silently pray you didn’t do something illegal or, like, morally cruel.

౨ৎ

matt would love to say he hasn’t thought about you since you bitched out on him the night of his birthday, but he could never just blatantly lie.

he can say he has gone the past few weeks without reaching out to you- which mostly speaks to both of your stubbornness and pride.

in fact, you’re part of his reason for having his own night in tonight- though it’s far less sadistic of a reason than yours. he’s simply grown bored of the repetitive night life he and his friends have.

you were always there for him to tease and secretly fuck around with whenever your friend groups would combine for the night. but as of late he’s left sitting at the bar swigging down beers and scrolling on his phone (sometimes he’d get irrationally irritated at you for not posting on your instagram or snapchat stories, feeling a as if it was a direct punishment to remove him from knowing any details about your life) or until the rest of the group throw the towel in.

on the worst and most irritating of nights he’ll take an uber home by himself. and those were the nights he would get so close to being irrational- showing up to your house and confronting you was oh so enticing. but he’d talk himself out of it and go home to fuck his fist like you’d probably tell him to do.

and on the most horny and pathetic of nights he'd end up in the backseat of his car finger-fucking erin with her tongue in his mouth. it ended at that though, matt's skin started to crawl thinking of when you rode him in the front seat not too long ago. he had pinched his eyes shut and pulled erin's hands away from his zipper, swaying her with some sweet "i just wanted to make you feel good s’all" and a kiss before she left and he awkwardly drove himself home- pondering how little self control he had to be desperate enough to do even get that far.

so, he didn’t even bother to go out tonight. when chris and nick asked him through his closed door, he told them he’ll stay in for some “peace and quiet.” really, he just couldn’t stand to be disappointed by the guaranteed lack of you being there.

he sits in his desk chair, legs spread casually, and sketchbook held against his thigh as he scribbles around to formulate a few rough outlines for upcoming clients. somewhere in the mix he begins to sketch out a familiar cartoon cat, which only irritates him and makes him close the book abruptly, shoving it into his desk’s drawer.

matt rubs his hands over his face a few times and lifts himself from the chair, heading straight for his bedside table. he bites at his lips while digging through the drawer, eventually finding the pretty red hot blunt you rolled and gifted him.

he makes his way out to the patio, not bothering to turn the outdoor lights on; blunt, lighter, and phone in tow. he slouches into one of the many chairs near the glass door and places the blunt between his lips, shuffling as he digs in his back pocket for his lighter.

the spark of the bright flame highlights his focused face for only a few seconds while he pricks the end of the misshapen yet smoothly rolled blunt. he breathes in the smoke immediately, throwing the lighter onto a table nearby. he tilts his backwards to blow out swirls of smoke above him.

matt initially wants to wait to call you until he feels high enough, mostly to give him an excuse for calling in the first place because he knows you’ll be expecting one. but he can't fucking wait, he wants to know what you're doing right now.

matt continues to effortlessly inhale and exhale several hits as he searches his phone for your contact.

his thumb hovers over the dull button that would change a lot for him. calling you means looking like a dumbass, as if he can't handle not knowing you (apparently he can’t but he wouldn’t admit to it). calling you means he’s breaking this implied break up- for complete lack of better terms.

but who’s to say you’ll even answer and give him a chance to do any of that? and suddenly his phone is vibrating in his hand as he raises it to his ear.

it takes four rings for you to answer, though you're completely silent on the other end. he waits and you wait. he truly didn’t think this far ahead. you only give him a few extra seconds to be silent before you hang up all together.

matt kisses his teeth and redials. when you eventually answer again he speaks through the smoke in his lungs, "hi. why'd you hang up?"

"matt, don't call my phone and expect me to speak to you first." your voice has a bite to it that still surprises matt a little. it's so infrequent for you to be harsh or upset (as long as matt has known you, you've been nothing but cheerful and well… sunny) that it's oddly pleasant to see how you handle negative emotions- it reminds him that you’re not always good, something he’d always weirdly envied about you.

he releases more smoke in the air around him, "my bad, sweetheart."

"just tell me why you’re calling. are you drunk or ...?"

"no. i just wanted to know what you're doing."

you sigh heavily, "why does that concern you...?"

his eyes pinch as he stares out into the dark backyard, "why're you bein' so difficult? 'm just trying t-"

"matt. get there, please." you rush, though you secretly are enjoying hearing his voice and the romanticized idea that he must care a little if he’s reaching out again.

“yeah.” he takes a breath, “i don’t know. i’m just, like, here…by myself, and i wanted to remember what you sounded like.”

you smirk to yourself but drop it immediately, “okay…well, this is what i sound like.”

“yes, so soothing, i could fall asleep right here,” you can hear him audibly stretch.

“oh, i’m putting you to sleep?” you tease.

“yeah, i need you to come over and wake me up,” he inhales once more.

you’re silent and he breathes out again, “fuck was that too much- i’m sorry.”

“definitely. i need you to calm down, sir.”

“oh i’m so calm, baby,” he moans out playfully.

“matt, i’ll hang up-”

“woah! let’s not make such rash decisions?!”

“okay then.”

“thank you for answering,” his voice is muffled, “you could’ve blocked me- i talked to you so crazy that night and i do feel bad about, i want you to know.” he pauses and you silently process as he continues to compliment you, “you’re the only woman besides, like, my mother, who is just classy as fuck and way too kind to everyone whether they deserve it or not.”

you could never have expected to hear any words of admiration from matt in regards to you. “oh my god, are you near a couple of trees right now? how’d you get so sappy all of a sudden?”

matt takes a second to register your joke before his entire face crinkles and he shakes his head, giggling, “bad joke. such a bad joke.”

you let yourself laugh a little as well before pulling together, “thank you for apologizing, i honestly didn’t expect that from you.”

“well i don’t hand them out like that so i guess you’re lucky or something.”

“i guess i am…” you smile into your words a little.

“what have you been doing?”

“like the past few weeks or right now?”

“i was talking about right now but you can say both.”

“just was checking! i don’t want to talk to much, i know you’d hate to listen to it.”

“heyyy! really? throwin’ some shit i just told you i didn’t mean right in my face like that?”

“i’m sorry i had to!”

“you were holding on to that one, huh?”

“just a little.”

“okay, tell me everything and i’ll listen.”

“i know i made it seem like i’ve been doing a lot but i’ve honestly just been working a bunch. it’s not as much of a nightmare as it sounds though- working long shifts has helped me fall asleep quicker. i’ve also started cooking a lot more whenever im bored which andrea looooves. and… um, right now i’m taking a bath.”

matt’s eyes widen and he chuckles, “dammit! i knew i should’ve facetimed instead!”

you bite your lip to hold back a laugh yourself, “what are you doing, matt?”

“guess.”

“i mean, i know you’re smoking but you could be in a random bedroom at a party or like, at some other bitch’s house…i don’t know, i’m just guessing!”

“never that,” he laughs- which you can’t decipher as a sarcastic or genuine one -and explains further, “‘m at home, outside with that perfect little blunt you made.”

“oh, for real?”

“uh huh, she’s treating me real good.”

“i’m glad. can you finish telling me how you’ve been?”

“yeah, um-”

“mattttt!” a very drunk nick suddenly yells while sliding open the glass door.

matt literally jumps and is immediately annoyed, you can hear it in his voice despite it being muffled now, “dude, you scared the shit out of me! what do you need?”

“hello to you too, ugh, i forgot you’re all moody right now. what are you even doing it’s all dark and shit?” nick hangs on the door has he peeks outside.

matt gets up to close the door again, “mind your business, nick. move, you’re in the way.”

“hmm, you are so weird.” nick squints his eyes and turns away yelling chris’ name in a blood curdling scream (for absolutely no reason besides the fact that he thought it’d be funny to see chris drunkenly run into the living room).

“hey, you still there?”

“mhm, yes”

“nick and chris just got back from the bar so i’ll have to help them chill out, um, yeah. i wanna hang out again. not even just to fuck if you aren’t cool with that yet, if we can be friends around our friends we can be friends by ourselves.”

friends? you and matt? hm. “that’d be nice, do you wanna just come over like usual?”

“i mean i could but we can do whatever you want, seems like you’ve been home a lot so, you know.” his voice gets more distracted as he speaks

“okay, i’ll let you know. good night.”

“sounds good, sweetheart.”

౨ৎ

MATT - 6:30 PM

Are you done yet?

Y/N - 6:52 PM

yes i’m coming now

“i’m sorry again for keeping you so late y/n, you really didn’t have to stay and help me close!” your coworker, angela, beams as she follows you out of the back door with a trash bag.

“don’t worry about it,” you smile to her as you walk with her to the large dumpster on the side of the building.

she throws a bag the size of her torso into the bin with a mumble of ‘ew’ before turning to you, “don’t say that! i know you have that date thing tonight, i don’t want you to be late.”

“i told you it’s not a date! we’re hanging out as friends.”

she rolls her eyes while putting her travel sized hand sanitizer back into her purse, “y/n don’t start with that…it’s totally a date from what you’ve told me.”

you both continue to walk towards the back parking lot,“trust me, he’s made it clear he’s not that kind of guy.”

“then why waste your time?”

right when you go to defend yourself you hear a car door shut, drawing your attention to the man of the hour, who’s locking the doors of his sleek black suv as his jaw works a minty piece of gum.

his black tee exposes his tattoos and his jean shorts are held up with his favorite black belt. you can see his light eyes are squinted due to the sun’s undying brightness from where you stand.

angela turns to you with a full smirk and softly slaps your arm, whispering and giggling, “girl, he’s hot!”

“oh my god!” you have an uncontrollable smile as you look at her, “stop it!” you look over again and this time matt is leaning against his car, ready to catch your eye and send you a wave of his fingers with his eyebrows raised.

you wave back then turn away once more, “‘kay i should probably go but i’ll see you wednesday, right?” you lean in for a hug.

“yes i’ll be here,” she smiles into the embrace as you kiss into the air to the side of her head, “you’ll have to give me all the deets!”

“mhm,” you hum as you both part ways, “bye ang!”

you approach matt without any rush and he takes the time to gaze over your complexion (far more radiant than the last time he’d seen you) and the way your mini jean skirt compliments the blushed red top you’re wearing. “hi sunny,” he grins and reaches a hand out to bring you into a hug, only for you to set the handle of your small purse in it. he kisses his teeth playfully, “it’s still like that, huh?”

“like what?” you condescendingly look up at him.

“alright, girl,” he dismisses, “where are we goin?“

“it’s a surprise for a reason matt!”

“okay… then i’m assuming you’ll drive?”

“not exactly..” you spin on your heel and walk away from him as a hint to follow you.

he wraps an arm around your shoulder as the two of you walk down the busy sidewalk, he gives a couple of glances down at your phone while also navigating the two of you. “metro?” he reads aloud.

“mhm,” you reply and smile to yourself while adding the tickets to your apple wallet.

“wow, you really planned this shit out.”

“i’ve never half-assed something in my life,” you say as you both stop at a cross walk.

“never? you have a brother, right?” he asks and you nod, “i’m sure he’d be able to come up with something.”

“probably,” you shrug and grab his wrist when the walking sign lights. “we’re gonna make it just in time, the bus comes at 7:10.”

౨ৎ

the seating on the bus is comfortably squished; you sit in the window seat and matt next to you, moving his limbs inward to give room to those walking in the isle.

you reapply a faded shade of red, black cherry to your lips while using your phone camera. matt watches with his lips pursed in awe. “that shade looks nice on you,” he says softly.

you’re already feeling giddy internally and he’s forcing you to blow your unbothered cover at this point, “thank you,” you smile and turn to see him already close to your face, looking at your eyes then lips. you just have to close the space by giving him a small kiss, mumbling, “it looks good on you too, see,” you move your phone so that he can see his lips outlined with the stain of you.

he laughs and pouts his lips while checking himself out in your camera, making the risky move to take a photo of himself, before giving your cheek a kiss.

౨ৎ

“jesus, for forty fucking minutes you better have brought me to an all inclusive resort!” matt complains while dramatically stretching his back.

the sun was now peeking down and the flashing lights of santa monica pier were extra enticing. “stop, we’re gonna have so much fun! look!” you point at the energetic strip with a childish grin.

“alright, let’s go then,” he tilts his head towards the fair.

౨ৎ

“definitely could have gone without that last ride- wayyy too many dips,” matt holds his stomach dramatically.

“i could tell, you were screamin’ like crazy,” you smirk as the two of you stand in the line at one of the many food trucks. two hours into being there and you’ve rode almost all of the rides, it was expected for matt to ask to stop for some sort of food eventually.

“barely.” he rolls his eyes, “what do you want?”

“i’ll have a water and one of those bomb pops,” you tell him.

“that’s not really food, are you gonna be good with that for right now?” he clarifies.

“yes, matt. thank you,” you smile and matt waves you off as he approaches the tall window to order.

“hey, what’s up man? i’ll just have a water, one of those fourth of july a bomb pops, medium fry and a modelo in a can please,” he flashes a smile and pays quickly.

you thank him and the cashier as you take hold of the items you asked for. “can we go walk on the beach?” you ask him.

“yeah, it’ll be dark as shit, but yeah,” he responds lightly and shoves a few fries into his mouth.

౨ৎ

“when i was younger my mom would bring me and my brother to the pier every summer since i was seven maybe?” the waves crash softly in the background as matt lays between your legs, despite the scratchy denim of your skirt. “when i was eleven my brother would want to go off with his friends in high school and my mom wasn’t a fan of the rides, so she would bring me to walk on the beach with her instead.” you recall out loud after matt had asked what made you want to come here today.

“mmm, reminds me of east coast beaches when i was a kid. we’d make a whole day out of it and pack up my mom’s minivan.” you stretch his scalp hypnotically, “just being rowdy and annoying as hell on the ride there and sleeping on the way back. being a kid is, like, the best and we never realize it when we’re there.”

“isn’t it kind of sweet that we don’t? kids don’t even understand the concept of missing childhood or being nostalgic until they’re older. if eight year old me were constantly dwelling on what’s passed i know she’d go insane. i mean, even now, everyone is always chasing previous feelings and never fully in tune with the one present.” you look out at the waves that softly build up and crash repeatedly.

matt licks his lips and opens his eyes, sitting up from your lap, “holy shit, sunny,” he kisses you and pulls away to laugh, “you just made me sound like a dumbass.”

he keeps a hold of your face, “matt you’re not dumb, everyone is nostalgic for something,” you kiss him again to seal your words.

matt pulls away and you stands up and begin to remove your shirt leaving you in a lacy bra, “come on,” you tilt your head and matt immediately stands up to cover you.

“the fuck do you mean, ‘come on’?” he starts to laugh while looking around for anyone around.

you roll your eyes at his protection and unbutton your skirt, “take a dip with me.”

“no?! y/n, that water is freezing...”

you pull down your pants to reveal a small pair of matching lacy panties that matt can barely see in the dark but he just knows would send him over the edge.

“matttt,” you pout and bring his hands to your exposed ass, lifting his chin to capture his lips in your own, “please?” you look up at him.

he pinched his eyes shut, “baby, put your clothes back on…”

“alright be lame,” you take his hands off of you and run into the empty beach with a freeing laugh.

matt stands there, not wanting to yell and draw attention to you both, but also not wanting to freeze to death.

“matt! the water’s not even that cold, come here!” you exclaim, wading in the shallow water.

“no, i’ll just wait here until you’re done cooling off…”

“matt, please! what if i-” you pretend to fall backwards and start to fake a drowning scene that has him undressing to his boxers quickly.

he ignores the rush in his blood from the surprise of the water’s temperature in favor of getting you out of there. he calls your name over and over, the pitch black look of the ocean doing absolutely nothing to help.

he’s pretty freaked out when you come back up and jump on his back yelling, “you saved me! you saved me!” with a cackle.

matt immediately groans and slaps the water, “fuck you, why would you ever do some shit like that?!”

you giggle and he throws you off his back easily, turning around to be face to face with you as you wipe your eyes, “oh my god matt, my mascara’s gonna run!”

“maybe we should think of these things before running into the ocean?”

you stop wiping underneath your eyes to forcefully push him under the water, giggling at the sound of the crash and his “don’t-!” right before.

“no more,” he spits out water and scolds you when he comes back up, inching closer to you and holding you by your hips as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“okay,” you agree and go to kiss his wet face just as he quickly unhooks you and throws you back under.

“matt!” you squeal as you resurface to hear him laughing, “dude, i’m gonna kill you.”

“truce, truce, truce!” he repeats and backs away from you.

“yeah, you better run,” you threaten.

౨ৎ

“your eyelashes are like sooo long when they’re wet,” you compliment as you stare at matt under the moon’s light.

he pulls you closer him to stop his mouth from chattering due to the cold, “i’ll give you my lash routine,” he jokes.

“i realized something when we got off the phone the other day,” you bring up, as your eyes run over each of his facial features.

“tell me,” he rolls his icy lips into his mouth.

“i never said sorry for being nasty to you on your birthday.”

matt’s eyes squint, “it’s fine, i’m not hung up on that shit. we said we’re good, right?”

“yes, but-”

“alright then,” he shrugs and squeezes your ass in reassurance.

a smile graces your face and and you let your head fall to his shoulder, whispering, “matt…i’m cold now.”

“i’ve been waiting for you to say that, oh my god!”

౨ৎ

you both suffer as you put your clothes back on over your wet skin. you’re both chattering messes and simply cannot stop laughing about it as you make your way back to the boardwalk’s strip of raging bright lights.

you don’t get far before you’re begging matt to win you an oversized faux fur leopard print coat, “it’s just what i need, please!”

and he’s spent almost two twenties replaying this stupid game over and over again. you’re a pretty good cheerleader though.

“come on matt, you got it this time! no pressure! it’s only like i’m dying of hypothermia!” he deadpans as he looks over to you, “what?”

it was a simple game of ring toss- that was most definitely rigged, but besides you reminding him this and saying you didn’t need the coat that much, the stand runner’s comments doubting matt was enough to fuel him to continue playing until he wins.

and somehow he tosses the perfect ring, watching it land and swivel around the bottle in victory. you both outwardly celebrate with screams and a very public kiss, that the two of you just can’t stop sharing today.

“congratulations,” the employee boredly says.

“thank you sir, thank you.” matt then obnoxiously turns around and yells out a speech to the random passersby “i wanna thank my mother, my grandmother, brothers, dog, and you people for giving me this opportunity to win something so grand for my sweet sunshine!” you stop giggling to give a royal wave to the many people judging the two of you, “thank you santa monica!” he blows a kiss and you both spin around to claim your prize.

“you two are like cartoon characters,” the stand runner says. and as soon as you start to grin at him he corrects, “that wasn’t a compliment.”

“whatever man, just give the pretty girl the fucking coat,” matt blinks at him. as the man walks away to grab the fluff off of the rack a few people stop by the table and matt warns them, “if i were you i’d keep walkin’, this guy’s a first-class hater.”

you drag matt by his arm back over to you, “did you take your socially-overbearing pills today?!”

“i have no clue, i think im too cold for my brain to process embarrassment anymore.”

“here’s that coat,” the man hands you it with a shake of his head.

“thank you, sir!” you exclaim and immediately fit your arms from the sleeves, “this is everything i’ve ever wanted!” you say as your jaw goes slack.

“you look good,” matt agrees, “you also look warm, so now i’m jealous.”

“let’s go get you something warm, baby.”

౨ৎ

after a trip to a random gift shop for a hoodie, matt whined about needing real food so bad.

so the two of you stand at the hostess stand in a small mexican restaurant on the strip.

“for two?”

“yes, thank you.”

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick, okay?” matt speaks close to your ear and you simply nod and watch him walk off.

you wait a few moments before the hostess offers to take you to your table, “did you want to go sit now or wait for your boyfriend?” she asks kindly.

you try not to make it so apparent that you enjoy the idea of you being matt’s girlfriend, “yeah, i can sit now, he’ll find me.”

౨ৎ

“i’ll have the chicken burrito please with extra rice,” matt orders as he sits across from you.

“and i’ll have the four birria tacos please,” you hand her the menu kindly.

you both are bundled up ridiculously with frizzy hair and barely-dry clothes, you’re surprised anyone agreed to serve you.

“alright, that should be out shortly!”

when she walks away matt asks, “why didn’t you get a drink? i’m just curious.”

“i swore off drinking until my birthday,” you shrug and fall back into the plush of the booth.

“mm, not smoking either?” he sips his water.

“i mean i haven’t smoked since early august but no i didn’t purposely stop.”

matt nods, “well if you were to drink, what are you ordering? i usually go for a corona but i wanna try something different.”

“oh strawberry margarita, a hundred percent. hits everytime.”

“i’ve never had a margarita so i’ll try it.”

your jaw drops, “hell yeah you’re gonna try it, i can’t believe you!”

“what can i say?” matt shrugs.

౨ৎ

matt plays with the toothpick in his mouth as you both sit in your spots for the bus ride home. he got to enjoy his first margarita and you took multiple pictures to document it, he bought you churros to go, and now you both are the most tired you’ve been in a while.

you quietly respond to texts that andrea sent you hours ago, asking what you’re doing and if you’ll be home soon, while matt lays his head on your shoulder sleepily.

eventually you shut your phone off and calmly rest your head against the chilled window for the rest of the ride.

•

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets fan fiction #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets smut #matt sturniolo x black!reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo

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hotchfiles · 2 days

Text

↪ day twelve. dinner party stories — #marchhotchness

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [family line] ��

pairing: hotchner x fem!reader. summary: he snickers when he secretly whispers you that and you’re sure this is the family you were born to be after all, it just took you a little while to find it. or: aaron shows what the unconditional love of a family should be like. content warnings: not proofread, a lot of family issues brought up, weight gain mention (negatively once, then positively), reader's parents being annoying and kind of mean. word count: 2.4K

aaron sees it in your eyes, in your breathing, in the way you move. he sees it in the way you’ve been playing more with your necklace and by how you can’t seem to stop spinning your engagement ring around your finger. he hasn’t seen you this anxious in months, and back then you were working on finishing your dissertation and it collided with the company you worked at losing clients, it was chaos. he knew right now there was no chaos in sight, so it could only mean one thing.

“honey, did you speak to your parents recently?” his voice is always as soft as a feather when talking to you, even in the rare instances you argue.

you turn from the scrabble pieces and set your wine glass down, not minding the interruption to the cozy game when his voice sounded like that and his eyes looked at you like you were something so precious you could break.

“no, babe, why d’you ask?”

“you’re fidgeting like an hyperactive kid who hasn’t been put on ritalin yet lately.” his explanation catches you off guard in a way that you almost reprehend him saying his name in a high pitched voice and slapping his arm in between laughter. his smirk shows you just how accomplished he feels that he made you laugh like that.

aaron takes both of your hands in his, kissing your knuckles and urging you to talk with him just by the way he looked into your eyes, eagerly waiting for you to vent about what was making you so restless.

“i haven’t told them about the engagement yet. i want to have them over for dinner, to share the news but they are so…” you sigh profoundly, looking up to the ceiling trying to finish that though in a way that made sense. “difficult.”

aaron knows what difficult really means. it means patronizing. it means unsupportive. unwilling. unhelpful. it doesn’t mean unloving, but it means old fashioned in a way that it feels unloving. “we could have dinner in a nice restaurant instead, to ease up some of that pressure.” he suggests, always the problem solver.

“it would be perfect, handsome, but we did that last time…” your voice trails off, laying your head on his lap, urging him to gently pass his fingers through your hair by that act alone, cozying up to him in an attempt to ignore the problem at hand.

hotch follows your lead, not forgetting to place a kiss on your forehead, but also, not letting the problem go. “and my dear future mother in law will start dropping hints again that we don’t want them here.” you nod quietly. “alright. don’t call. text her inviting them over with the details. less talking.”

you groan, “she will complain about that too…”

“once they’re here.” he kisses your forehead, “so it’s only one,” and your nose, “night,” your right cheek, “of,” your left cheek, and you’re already grinning like an idiot, holding in your laughter at his boyishness, “complaining.” aaron finishes, brushing his lips against yours. you nod and pull your head up slightly, finally connecting you two in a sweet slow kiss.

you get your big girl pants on after a delicious making out session with your fiance, the scrabble pieces long forgotten as you gulp down your whole glass of wine and pick up your phone. his hair is messy, his cheeks are flushed and he grins at you with reassurance pouring from his sweet eyes as you send your mother the text, throwing your phone back to the table before seeing a response and going back straight to his arms.

he made it easier, always. helped you sort your feelings out, helped you find out the less stressing way to solve your problems. it was a joy to have him, to watch how he talked to jack and see how it should be.

more often than you would like to admit, you caught yourself thinking wow my parents would not let that slide, and then you would be faced with the reality that they were in the wrong, not aaron.

you talked to him about it once, asked how could he be so sweet and so effortlessly so to jack, his answer came quickly, no hesitation: jack had lost enough, losing his trust on his dad was not something aaron would let happen, he didn’t want jack to go through what he had as a child.

then it clicked to you once more, how you would never want to treat your hypothetical children like you had been treated too.

you try not to think too much about these things too often nowadays, but even as you laid on aaron’s chest and felt his fingers lightly, softly, trace designs on your skin, now all you could think about was the damned dinner.

your mom wasn’t too judgy when it came to what you cooked, your dad was and annoyingly so, always had some remark about what would have made the food better, just like he did to your mother back home.

so first thing you did the next morning was think through all dinners and remarks and find something you could do following his tips to lessen the complaining, aaron’s idea, of course.

“he always says my lasagna is delicious but too dry,” you mumble to yourself, but not really, you have your earphones on and aaron on call, in the office doing reports he was able to entertain you as you picked up ingredients for extra sauce.

you can hear him smiling, the sound of his aggressive pen on paper stopping for a second, “even rossi loves your lasagna, it is delicious. just give your father a bowl full of sauce, he will be happier.” you snort and he goes back to his papers, satisfied to have made you laugh through the stress.

gathering the rest of the ingredients is easy enough, you’re already used to the grocery store’s layout and setup, you keep him on the line either way, a tradition you both kept whenever you were doing monotonous tasks, even when he didn’t speak, listening to his breathing, the shuffling of papers and his pen quickly making work through all his reports made you smile, calmed you down.

hotch thought it was silly at first, but quickly warmed up to it when he heard you softly, secretive so, humming songs to yourself as you worked on your own reports, or went shopping, not to mention how adorable he found you to be when you forgot he was on the line and jumped scared as he spoke something.

most of all, he loved being immersed in a paper trail and being surprised by a hey i love you right in his ear as if you were there.

it pained him to know how much of yourself you tried to mute down to please your parents when he loved every single tiny piece of what made you… you.

hotch excused himself from the call to talk to rossi just as you were about to go back home, satisfied you convinced him to get rossi’s sauce recipe.

“hers is great, why does she need mine?” rossi sound almost exasperated, as if hotch himself had said something about your cooking. he is quick to reassure that’s not the case and explain how you’re trying to please your father, dave doesn’t seem that much happier about it, always pleased with the dishes you made for dinner parties at his mansion, but he still takes his phone and sends you a voice note explaining each step of his homemade tomato sauce. “anything else?”

“i need a favor as well. i’m gonna need the next weekend off for this.” hotch begins, he knows rossi would never mind that, no one would, in fact most people from the bureau agreed he needed time off. “i know myself enough, i need to be completely off, no calls, no briefings.” he’s learnt his lesson from too many past mistakes, if he knows the case, if he knows the team needs him, he will be putting his job above anything else, aaron can’t afford to do that anymore, so he prevents it.

his left thumb rubs the side of his index finger, his way to calm his racing thoughts, just the possibility of ruining this dinner has him anxious, this little habit of his was something he hadn’t even noticed he did before he met you. it was one of his tells and he never realized before you took his hand in yours and looked sweetly into his eyes saying you’re stimming, what’s wrong? in the softest tone he had ever heard anyone speak to him.

you were always quick to notice if anyone around you didn’t feel well, always a caretaker, it was a sight to take in and a pain to prove you so, being seen as selfish your whole life at home.

that day he got home late, jack was doing his homework with your help while you worked on a few things on your laptop—a presentation you needed to finish soon as possible to get the next friday off.

his office had become a shared office with your help, a u shaped desk where both of you could work being one of the first changes you made to it as soon as you moved in, it was perfect and it gave jack space to sit close to either of you when he needed help.

the sides faced the walls while and front faced the window where you and jack sat, focused, it gave hotch time to lean in the door frame and watch you both.

“i’m not sure about that one, jack-jack…” you stop typing to read the question in his book again, impressed with how little you remember of school math. “if i google this up, promise not to tell your teacher?” aaron clears his throat at the question, catching your attention and making you laugh: caught in the act.

“no google, buddy, sorry.” jack scrunches his nose at his father’s ruling out, a loud groan coming from his pre teen little voice.

“told ya we should have started this earlierrrr—“ you tease the boy, insinuating you two would have been able to find the answer online without his dad knowing then, you ruffle his short hair softly, loving the endearing smile he always gives you when you do that.

his smile quickly turns into a yawn, the weight of the time stamped on aaron’s watch getting to jack’s eyes, “i’m sleepy.”

“‘you can finish tomorrow, let’s get you two to bed, buddy.”

hotch picks jack up and the young hotchner is nothing but a ball of giggles, always saying he’s too big for that now, but obviously still loving the attention.

“enjoy while you can, jack-jack, your old man is not getting any younger.”

“yeah? i’m carrying your ass to bed soon too, my back can handle you both for years still.” you and jack both laugh at him. it’s always almost as if a harsh mask melted when he got home, in its place would remain his soft features and the bickering you loved so dearly.

it was warm. and kind. even when he came back home stressed, you never had to worry about accidentally setting him off or saying the wrong thing. it was a completely different dynamic than what you were used to.

it takes a few minutes for hotch to come back, but he comes ready to make true of his promise, hands straight to your waist to carry you, tickling his way into your defenses, he laughs at your laughter and at how easy you melt to his touch. “i’m just finishing this up, babyy—“ your voice is purposefully whiny, pouting at him and getting a kiss in return, “go eat your dinner while i do it, i heated it up when i got your text!”

he stops trying to pull you up his shoulder or around his waist then, the look he gives you then reminds you of why you fell for him: sweet like caramel, always betraying his known frown.

aaron looks at you like every act of kindness you do makes him fall in love again, and it does. he traces your features with his thumb in silence, the mix of his calloused fingers and the softness of his actions makes you sigh, leaning into it.

“i love you. i love our little family.” he kisses your forehead and leaves you to your presentation before you can even reply, before you can’t even tell him the two hotchner boys are the first healthy family you’ve ever been in.

you don’t even mind your dad complaining about your lasagna having way too much sauce the week after. aaron eats for the both of them, compliments every single decision you made while cooking.

the second your mother tells you you’ve been gaining weight, aaron replies with a simple “if anything, we’re both getting bigger and happier.” a squeeze tight to your knee, stopping you from tearing up at how that was the only thing your mother did notice.

they seemed happy about the engagement, but not too sure you’ll be able to care for him and his child as they needed to be cared for. you’re forgetful. you’re not maternal. you worry about work too much.

you’re not even sure how good news could lead to such rambling about your flaws but again, before you can either cry or lose control and yell—aaron comes in, his soft smile being completely betrayed by his furrowed brows and stern tone. he’s trying to be polite. “we take care of each other well, and together we care for jack. it works. we work.”

it’s simple but effective, what he wants is to shield you, to tell them how lucky they are you grew up as kind and hardworking when all they did was bring you down and doubt your feelings and your dreams.

he wants to show them drawings jack made of you and essays he wrote about his family.

but for now he settles on being polite. there’s still the whole wedding preparation and the actual wedding to go through. he has time to do all that. right now he just makes sure to show you and them how much he supports you and how nothing they can ever say will change how he sees you.

at least he’s glad his mother is dead, one less problematic in law to deal with.

he snickers when he secretly whispers you that and you’re sure this is the family you were born to be after all, it just took you a little while to find it.

#lari writes sometimes #lari march hotchness #marchhotchness #just about a month late #i was going to write the whole dinner then i was like you know what #no need #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario

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xzhdjsj · 11 hours

Text

Iron on my Tongue

Isaac x Reader

Isaac has a bad feeling about your meeting. (Isaac's POV)

Warnings: anxiety, description of blood, death of character

@chilliesillie and @kieran-rhoades created a vivid image in my mind of this scene so here it is written for you my loves<3 I hope I was able to capture this the way you imagined!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It’s a dim afternoon, grey clouds are settled in the sky with a promise of rain later and the wind is chilly. My partner isn't with me right now, maybe if they were I would be enjoying the weather more. I hope they make it back home before the shower.

They're out on their own business, a meeting with a client I introduced them to. As much as I'd like to pride myself in my improvements thus far, I still can't quite let them leave the house to meet someone completely unknown to me. Whatever client I hand over to them are well researched and kept on tab to ensure their meeting environment is a safe one and they’ll be able to get back home to me.

I still have my doubts regardless, but I can't control their every move. They deserve to live. It’s funny because they tell me the same thing, "Isaac you deserve to live, without the worry and torment."

I don't think I'd ever be who I am today without them. The day I met them all those months ago, I'd never believed it if someone told me we'd not only be partners in my field of work, but also lovers. They're the one thing that means the most to me and I absolutely cannot let them get hurt. I trust them, and I know they'll do their best to stay safe but the underlying worry still bothers me.

There's this unusual feeling in my chest, the kind I haven’t experience in a while and worst of all, I'm not sure why it's there. It's bearable, but it's not. A distant but static feeling that hazes over my body and clouds my senses.

I take a sip of my coffee and its burns my tongue. It's hot, way too hot.

"Fuck" I pinch the space between my eyebrows and sigh.

My luck hasn't been the best today, but maybe a shower would wash away whatever this is and I can finally settle down. I push the cup aside and head for the bathroom, peeling the clothes from my body.

I let the water slide off my skin, the only thing on my mind is them. I could chalk this feeling up to just my anxiety, but this is more. This is an additional weight that presses against my chest and squeezes at my heart. An extra burden to carry on my shoulders, one I'm unfamiliar with yet I distantly relate to. Some sort of gut feeling that’s pointed in some unknown direction. I could easily pick up my phone and call them but their voice rings in my head.

"Here's the deal Isaac, no calls from you this time. We have to work something out little by little until you're comfortable with me leaving the house. Instead of you calling me, I'll call you before and after my meeting. Deal?"

I agreed to it of course. I want to be better. For them I want to be better, so each time I think of calling, I turn my phone screen down. I know their meeting started at 3pm and lasts about two hours, so I'm expecting a call at 5.

I step out the shower, tying my robe at the side. The first thing I do is glace at the clock.

4:55

I should be receiving that call soon, and since a shower did absolutely nothing to sooth my nerves, I'm hoping their voice will.

I'm back in the kitchen again, my phone sitting in front of me and I reach for the coffee I had left earlier. I take a sip and now it's too cold. What a day. I dump it down the sink without a second thought, it’s not important right now anyways.

5 o'clock rolls around and I'm impatiently bouncing my knee. There isn’t a single notification from them. 10 minutes. I'll wait 10 minutes and then I'll call. The feeling in my chests grows heavier and heavier and I'm counting down every second. I can't look away from my phone, waiting and hoping to see my screen light up.

5:07

That's basically 5:10 right? If I call now, it wouldn't make a difference. I frantically find their contact and click the small button near it. I take a deep breath, then exhale. It's okay. They'll answer and say their meeting ran a little late and scold me for not waiting a full 10 minutes like I promised. Nothing bad is going to happen. I’m able to fool neither my mind nor my heart.

It rings, and rings, and rings... then disconnects.

There’s no answer. My heart rate picks up and I call again.

Same as before, it rings but no answer.

I attempt to call again, but the phone slips from my grasp. I hadn't noticed it before but my palms are clammy and covered in sweat, cold sweat. I drag them against my robe and quickly snatch the phone off the floor, skipping a call entirely to find their location.

The little icon is not at their meeting location, it’s not at the coffee shop they enjoy visiting, its nowhere close to home. Instead it stays stagnant at a foreign location, a maze-like pathway between a block of buildings.

I’m unsure about almost everything at the moment, but one thing I know for certain is that I need to find them. I leave my house right away. I call until their voicemail is engraved into my skull. I send text after text, but there’s still no response. I check their location again but the only icon that moves is my own as I get closer to my destination.

The rest of the way I need to continue on foot. I have a gun tucked into the waist of my pants and I don’t know what awaits me, or if I’ll even be able to fight it but if I don’t find them I might go completely insane. My stomach turns at the scent, and sight before me. It’s a dirty alleyway, much dirtier than the one I found them in. It makes me sick. The unease in my body casts over me like a giant shadow and it’s starting to make sense. It feels like a rat in my stomach trying to claw its way through my mouth. I hate it. I hate it so much.

I find their phone, their bag and random sheets on paper scattered through path. They’re covered in muddy footprints and soaked in murky water. Something bad happened, that much I knew, but there’s 3, 4, 5 maybe 6 pairs of footprints here. They were outnumbered.

“Name!” I yell. “Where are you?”

I run further and further down but there’s no sign of them. My heart is pounding against my chest and I’m so so scared. I’m looking everywhere but there’s no one here. I grip onto my hair in frustration. Where are they? Did those people take them away? Who were they? There’re hundreds of people who’d want to hurt me but specifically WHO?

“I-Isaac…?” a weak voice calls behind me.

I’m overcome with relief when I hear them, but the state I see them in as I turn around fills me with worry and rage.

They’re holding onto the mouldy walls, sliding down to the ground when they couldn’t support themselves anymore. Their body and clothes are covered in mud and dirt, ripped and bruised. I rush over to them, supporting their weight against my own body.

I’m worried, so worried but I’m relieved they’re still here. I’m relieved they’re still alive.

“God, Pickle” I place a hand against their back, its warm and wet, and they wince in pain at the pressure. “Where are you hurt? Who did this to you?”

“Isaac,” they smile up at me, a hand reaching for my face. “You came. I knew you’d come.”

I hold their hand against my cheek. “Of course, my love. I’ll always find you I promised to protect you always.”

“My knight.” Their voice comes out faint and dull.

“Yours, always yours.” I lean down to kiss them, gently on their lips. It was supposed to be a simple kiss, more as reassurance to my self than them but I taste iron against my tongue, metallic and salty. I pull away abruptly and their body bends forwards choking on coughs as the red liquid spills from their lips. Blood.

It's on the concrete, my pants and my hands? The hand I had against their back… It's covered in blood?

Their jacket wasn’t soaked with water? The warmth I felt wasn’t from their body? It was their blood.

“Isaac.” Their hand is on my face again, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’re *cough* spacing out my darling.”

I don’t bother responding, pulling their jacket off their shoulder. Red, it's all red. Their shirt is soaked through and through with blood and ripped in multiple areas. Stabs, fuck they were stabbed.

“No no no!” I panic. “I need to do something, I need to get you out of here!”

“Isaac please, I can barely move. Its’s *cough* gonna be okay, just please stay here with me.”

“How could I let this happen to you? Why not me instead?” I feel tears roll down my cheek and I’m terrified.

“It’s not your ugh fault Isaac. Please, for my sake, don’t blame yourself.” Their voice continues to weaken. I feel stupid for honouring their request of just staying here, but some part of me knows that there’s nothing I can do now.

“Isaac, I love you”

“Yes, I know my love. I love you too, I love you more than anything.” I feel like a child again, crying my eyes out. I should be the one comforting them, but my voice is filled with fear and my breathing is unsteady.

“Thank you… for all you’ve done for me.” Their voice fades in and out. “Please don’t ever forget me”

Their hand falls from my face but I catch it pressing it back onto my skin. “No, you have to keep your eyes open! Please! Keep your eyes open name! Don’t let go of me!”

“I’m… sorry Isaac. I don’t think I can.” They barely whisper, their eyes struggling to stay open.

“No please, not now! I’ve only just gotten you, you- you can’t leave me yet.” I held them close, sobbing into their hair.

We never made it home before the downpour. I stayed there with them to the very end. I held them in the freezing cold until their breaths slowed. I held them until the warmth drained from their body and they also grew cold. I stayed there until left me for good.

I held my composure, for their sake, wrapping them in my jacket and took them home. I washed their body until they were completely clean before tucking them into bed. One last time, they were by my side. Tomorrow they’d be resting in my garden resting among the flowers, and my mother would finally meet the love of my life. I hope she’d be proud of me, I hope they’d reflect fondly of me.

I hope they’d forgive me for the things I must do in the future.

I hope they’ll shield their eyes and stay blind to the things I will do. Every last breath of mine will be used to avenge them. I will find those who are responsible for this, and I’ll make sure they regret it.

I couldn’t protect as a knight, so I will destroy everything as a shadow.

#oh look its more isaac angst!#zsakuva #sakuverse #asmr #isaac #isaac rhoades

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nina-ya · 2 days

Text

Late Nights With Luffy

Pairing: Luffy x Reader CW: None, pure fluff WC: ~600 A/N: Hiiii im gonna write a bunch more now that im back <3 fun little fact- this used to be a drabble for Law but I've been in my Luffy era lately so this spawned instead

When restlessness gnaws at you, the idea of sleep feeling like nothing but a mere myth, you can always count on Luffy to be awake to keep you company. With a sigh, you slip out of your bunk, your feet softly thumping against the ground as you attempt to find Luffy in his usual spots. You check his own bunk first, and seeing he isn't there, you make your way to the kitchen.

There, you see Luffy’s figure illuminated by the refrigerator light, his silhouette outlined against the faint glow. He is rummaging through the contents, his brow scrunched in concentration and his tongue poking out with determination as he searches for a late-night snack. You pause in the doorway, watching for just a moment, before stepping into the kitchen.

The floorboards creak softly under your feet, and Luffy’s head snaps in your direction, the corner of his eyes crinkling as a wide grin spreads across his face. “Hey!” is all he exclaims, his louder voice ripping through the quiet atmosphere of the ship. You smile at his constant enthusiasm, muttering something about not being able to sleep, and he nods back in understanding, not surprised since this is a usual occurrence for you. You walk up to him from behind and peek over him to get a better look at what he is scavenging from the fridge. It’s a mishmash of leftovers and snacks, typical of Luffy’s late night feasts.

You eye the skewer he’s holding, resisting the urge to snatch it straight from his hand. Instead, you reach across from him and grab a snack that catches your eye. “You can’t just hoard all of this, Luffy.” you say teasingly with a giggle as you start munching on the treat. As if by instinct, his hand reaches out to steal your snack, and you playfully swat him away, pulling a pout from him.

He knows how to get you to give into any of his requests. His bottom lip juts out ever so slightly. Those big brown eyes widen, feigning innocence, gleaming with that mischief that is always an underlying presence. The fridge light bouncing off the caramel orbs, making them twinkle ever so subtly. You can’t help but admire the way his features scrunch up in that expression, his brows furrowing ever so slightly to convey his disappointment, or the way his messy black hair frames his face, mirroring his playfully charming personality.

You decide to tease him, holding the snack just out of his reach, waiting for him to reach out, right before popping it right into your mouth, taking another bite. His expression shifts to a determined one, his pout morphing into a grin as he leans closer, staring at you with a look that is daring you to deny him again. It’s a sort of game that the two of you often play when you encounter each other on nights on these. You finally relent, offering a piece of your snack, and his face lights up with unabashed joy, a radiant smile stretching across his lips. His gratitude is evident in the way he eagerly accepts the offering, absolutely inhaling the snack, and staring at you once again with an anticipatory grin as he awaits another bite.

Late night encounters with Luffy always seem to be a highlight. You often wonder if your body is subconsciously keeping you awake so you could have these private moments with him. Such thoughts get pushed away once you meet Luffy’s gaze, and you can’t help but yearn for more moments like this with him.

#nina writes~✦#one piece x reader #one piece fluff #monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #one piece luffy #straw hat luffy #luffy #x reader

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se4son-of-the-witch · 2 days

Text

pretty when you cry pt 2 - matt sturniolo

in which matt gets a much needed wake up call

based on this request !

┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☾⋆ ┊ ⊹ ┊ ✯ ⋆ ┊

Enough was enough. You had come to this realization a few days ago. Ever since that night after the bar, you've been ignoring Matt. He's been begging to see you. To come over and fuck you then act like you weren't anything special.

However, this time you actually answered him. He had texted you, saying how much he had missed you and wanted to come over. Little did he know you were going to cut ties with him. Completely.

You've had enough of feeling like an object. Like you were just one of the many girls he could come to when he needed to get off. You were more than that. And you knew deep down Matt wouldn't want you seeing any other guys.

As you awaited his arrival, you paced around the room. You stopped in front of your mirror, taking a good look at yourself. You brushed your hair out of your face as you let out a deep breath. This was going to be a difficult thing to do, but you knew it was the best thing to do.

A knock on the door thankfully took you out of your thoughts, making sure you were getting any second thoughts about your decision.

You made your way down the stairs, bracing yourself for how awkward this whole interaction was going to be. You waited a second before opening the door, your hand hesitantly reaching for the handle. Behind the door, Matt stood on your front porch. He was wearing a black tank top and gray sweatpants, which he knew made you go crazy. However, you had to push those thoughts aside and stand up for yourself.

"Hi, sweetheart," he greeted in a low tone.

"Hi.' You kept your greeting short, not wanting it to go south before you had the chance to shut down your little situation. You closed the door behind you, making Matt's eyebrows raise in confusion, and took another step towards him.

"What, did you wanna go back to my place or something?" He smirked at you, trying to get some sort of reaction from you.

You let out a deep breath. "I can't do this anymore, Matt." You made short eye contact, trying to keep yourself from backing out.

"What?" You didn't say anything which made his face slightly fall. "We don't have to have sex. We could just watch a movie or something." He shrugged his shoulders, not even sounding remotely interested in just cuddling with you.

"No, Matt, I'm saying," you paused, "I can't continue this." You pointed between the two of you. He looked down at you with his eyes slightly squinted.

"What did I do wrong?" For some reason you couldn't place it, his tone was off. Like he didn't actually care to hear what he did wrong. Almost as if he was trying to pity himself and turn the whole situation on you.

"It's just unfair." A deep sigh came from your mouth, making him take a step back. The confusion on his face was now replaced with annoyance.

"I don't understand." He crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head at you. "You're the one who keeps coming to see me, yet it's unfair to you?"

His words made you scoff. "Don't even go there, Matt." The two of you stood in silence for a minute, anger beginning to boil in your blood. "I know I'm not the only one, Matt." His mouth slightly gaped, making you scoff. "You were literally talking to a girl the other day after we came home from the bar."

"What? I can't have other friends? It's not like we're even together," he shot back.

"That's just it, Matt. We're not together, yet you talk to me like we've been devoted to each other for years."

"Well, how was I supposed to talk to you?"

You laughed. He sounded like a complete idiot right now. "That's not the point. And you know damn well if I was talking to anybody else you would lose your shit." He scowled at you, really letting your words sink in. "It's just unfair."

"You don't know that."

"Trust me, I do." He looked away, knowing deep down you were right, he just didn't want to admit it. "I just can't do this anymore. I'm more than someone you use to get off when you're horny."

He shuffled back and forth on his feet, trying to think of what to say next. "You know you mean more than that, Y/n." He stepped closer to you, trying to caress your arm. However, you took a step back, brushing him off.

"Do I, Matt?" When he didn't answer, you confirmed that this was the best thing to do. "Look, I can't just be an object. Not to you or anyone else." You took a deep breath. "So after you leave tonight, don't try to reach out, because I'm not going to answer."

Although it didn't show on his face, you knew how hard your words hit him. It's as if all of his blood drained from his face, leaving him pale with slightly wide eyes.

"Okay, okay. I can respect that."

"Thank you, Matt."

After what felt like an eternity of awkward silence, Matt spoke. "Well, I wish you the best, sweetheart. Maybe one day I'll see you around?" His tone was hopeful, which made you slightly smile.

"I can't say." And you were telling the truth. As much as Matt made you feel special, you knew it was an act. However, he was a great guy. He just didn't know how to properly show you that. "Good night, Matt." You headed towards your front door, stepping inside.

"Good night, Y/n." You watched as he walked off your porch, and headed to his car with his head low in defeat. Although it was an unusual sight to see, it took a big weight off of your shoulders. You were no longer his sweetheart and you couldn't feel better about that.

┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☾⋆ ┊ ⊹ ┊ ✯ ⋆ ┊

a/n: no happy ending this time ��😛

tags: @chrattstromboli @imwetforyourmom

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader

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yesimwriting · 2 days

Note

I love ur felix fics sm!! ur one of my fave writers on here<<333 and no I don’t think itd b crazy to write for Nate!! I’d love to see how u would write him!! (Maybe grumpy x sunshine hehe)

hi!! this is such a nice ask :)) i'm so happy you like my felix fics

omg i love ur train of thought for a nate fic!! i've been thinking about that kind of dynamic for them, but in a really niche way

anyways let's have some thoughts on nate jacobs and sunshine/kind of sheltered reader!!

----

thinking about the moment in which you find out nate jacobs is your assigned partner for a project that's worth 35% of your final grade. if this was happening to you a year ago, maybe even two or three months ago, you might have been nervous for an entirely different reason.

but you're not that version of yourself anymore. you go out to parties now; you wear shirts to school that your mom buys for you the same way she used to buy you impulse barbies, with a wink as the cashier scans them, making you promise that you won't show dad what you got at the store; you're friends with maddy and cassie...you're on your way to best friends with maddy and cassie.

so you can't dismiss the gossip and the stares nate gets in the halls as a standard part of high school, not the way you used to. you can't just see him across the hall at his locker and mentally acknowledge that you get why girls talk about him the way they do. you can't just get paired up with him for an extremely long assignment and think oh, at least he's cute.

every story maddy's ever mentioned during sleepovers, everything she's teared up about after one too many drinks hits you at full force when your teacher reads your name and then his off of her list.

would she see this as a betrayal? it's not like you picked him and asking for a new partner is out of the question, a fact your teacher made clear at the beginning of the year. but maddy's loyal...fiercely loyal, and she expects that kind of commitment to be symbiotic.

you don't move, can't move until jules leans towards you, so close her hair spills onto your desk. "no fucking way." she whispers it in a way that'd make you laugh if this was about someone else.

you're silent, eyes finally pulling away from a brightly colored poster explaining the roles of each branch of the US government. you turn your head enough to look at where nate sits, the back of the room with a few other football players.

he's already looking at you. and when nate realizes you're finally staring back, he has the audacity to let the corner of his mouth pull into a smug sort of smile you're sure another version of you would have considered swoon worthy.

you're all instructed to use the last few minutes of class time to talk to your new partners, to make some kind of preliminary plan. nate's standing up and you're still recovering from the whiplash.

helplessly, you look over at jules who's clearly trying to get to the other side of the room before nate can get to you. she mouths a "sorry" that feels genuine, and points at the girl she's supposed to work with in a way that feels like over kill. you roll your eyes, picking up your pen and pressing the pad of thumb against its side to have something to do.

nate's in front of you before you know it. he's so tall it's a little intimidating when he's right there, especially with you still sitting. "you're everywhere now." a reference to the fact that you were both at the same party last weekend. you can still hear maddy's slurred i can't believe he's fucking here, before she dragged you out to the house's patio.

he's probably seen you more places. you're around maddy pretty regularly these days and from what you've heard, you wouldn't put stalking above him. he's probably a stalker in the way guys from the news are stalkers, calm and untouchable until they feel like the girl they're watching is moving on. then they snap and some news anchor reports that there were warning signs for months beforehand.

you're partially aware of your potential exaggerations, but you can't bring yourself to care. you've never really interacted with nate, but you want to hate him as more than the monster you hear about when maddy feels like ranting. you want to viscerally hate him. it's such an instinctual tug that you can't pretend it's all about morality. you're craving innate repulsion the way an elementary school girl wants the other half of a magnetic necklace with the word "best" etched into cheap metal. it's kind of pathetic, but then again...

"not last year, or last semester--"

he's baiting you and you're completely aware and you still can't help yourself. "what? it's illegal to make new friends now?"

your tone surprises you more than the fact that you interrupted him. you've never been overly shy, but you've also never been much of a fighter on your own behalf. maybe this is like the parties and barbie-style-bought-shirts, just another facet of the improved you.

nate seems surprised too, only he wears it like there's something funny about it. "no, you've always been friendly."

he says it like there's a joke in there that'd make the football players a few rows back laugh. it digs at you more than it should. he gets under your skin in a way that bugs. maybe that means genuine hatred is on its way.

you look up at him, eyes as unimpressed as you can manage. "so," the word is definite, intentional. "the project..." you're glad for the excuse to turn your attention back to your notebook, "i don't know if you want to work out a time to--"

"i'm leaving in like five minutes." you're about to point out that class doesn't end for another when he explains, "football game." ugh. another thing you can decide to be annoyed about. your homework schedule is now going to revolve around high school football. "can i get your number?" the idea of existing in nate jacobs's phone feels so wrong you can't immediately reply. he picks up on your hesitation, because he tacks on the one phrase that could get you to do anything, "35% of our grade."

you nod once, expression as blank as you can manage as you write out your phone number on the corner of a page. You tear off the bottom corner and hand it to him. "don't save my number."

it's so rude, your jaw almost drops, "what?"

"you're going to see maddy before the project's over, right?"

the implication immediately makes your stomach knot. you're not--you can't not tell maddy. she won't like it, but she can't hold a random partnering against you. and--and it's worse if you don't tell her, because then it's like you're sneaking around with nate. and it's--it's all for school.

"i'm not going to lie to her for you." it's so ridiculous, you can't even hold eye contact. his silence adds a second loop to the knot in your stomach. "why would i lie?" your own genuineness sickens you, you're backtracking immediately. "and--and it's just a dumb school thing, so she probably won't care that much."

"and you're sure she's going to believe that?"

"yes," the word is firm because it has to be. "because that's what it is."

"she gets paranoid."

no, no--he's doing this to get into your head and cause problems. "if she's paranoid it's because you're crazy."

"fine." he shoves the scrap of paper into his pocket. "save my number, don't save my number. tell maddy, don't tell maddy."

you sigh. "why do you care?" they're broken up...even if maddy takes it the wrong way, the fall out will be a you problem.

"she's going to think i fucked you to hurt her." you hate this--the situation, the conversation, the fact that you can't completely dismiss his train of thought. "who's known maddy longer?"

you're about to try again, to defend your friendship with maddy and call him crazy again when the static of the intercom speakers interrupts you. all football players are being called out of class to leave for an away game. nate gives you one last look before turning towards the door.

when jules slips back into her seat and asks if you're okay with everything, you nod and attempt a joke about catching fuck boy germs, but it doesn't come out the way you want it to. she still laughs, so you do too, but that's not as natural as it should be, either.

----

lmk if you like this concept/want more of it!! i had fun writing this :))

#euphoria x reader #nate jacobs x reader #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #nate jacobs

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mopopshop · 10 hours

Text

Home Court Love

Paige Bueckers x Black!Fem OC (Aniyah)

I’m gonna make another part to this bcs I enjoyed it so much. I just love when wlw love wins 💔😓

Words: 6k

Themes:

slight medical inaccuracies, I’m not a doctor don’t come for me

swearing

slight angst

domestic feels

Aniyah and Paige’s family started with one simple sentence.

————————————————————————

2/4/23

“I’m really tryna start a family with you” Paige mumbles into your (her) sweatshirt, she’s always super clingy and lovey after a win so these words never phase you.

You roll your eyes playfully, she says stuff like this all the time and every single time your reactions no different. You smile and nod, knowing she’ll move on to a different topic in about .3 seconds.

“I know, baby” you say back.

She starts to sit up, relaxing on her knees with her hands rubbing up and down your thighs “No like I’m being deadass with you, seriously”

You sit up, resting on your elbows with a surprised smirk “Babe, I know” you chuckle out.

“Do you though? You lookin’ at me like I got two heads or something”

Paige seems genuine about what she’s saying which makes you sit up even more, crossing your legs. “So you’re.. like being serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she says sounding a bit offended.

“Well you like- say random shit like that all the time? I don’t know- I just didn’t think you were like.. wanting something like that with me” You respond, even though a few of your insecurities peek through your words as you speak.

Paige grabs you by the face with both hands so that your foreheads touch “Aniyah Kamau Omondi, I’d get you pregnant right now if it was biologically possible. I’m being as serious and as real as I can right now, I want you to be the mother of my children.”

You smile from ear to ear after she’s finished talking. Grabbing her face just as she is now you smash your lips onto hers “Then let’s do it.”

And so began the journey of little baby Gianni.

————————————————————————

4/17/23

The process with IVF was truly a gift from god, the both of you were worried it’d take at least six plus months, maybe even years for you to get pregnant but a short two months later you’d gotten positive results.

You’d always wanted to do one of those intimate “telling my partner i’m pregnant” things so you’d devised the perfect plan. Paige had gone out with the team for a promotional event and texted she’d be out a little later than usual, giving you time to set up your announcement.

You’d went out to target earlier while Paige was at practice, just picking up a simple onesie that stated “Baby On The Way! - Jan. 2024”. You’d folded the small onesie up into a box, covering the item of clothing with white tissue paper and on top of that adding a thin piece of paper that said “Surprise!”. Nothing extraordinary or extravagant but it was enough for the to of you and that’s what mattered.

Anxiously waiting for Paige to return home was hell on earth and your hormones were already starting to go all wonky.

Finally you hear the apartment door click open from you and Paige’s bedroom. Quickly hiding the box in your bedside drawer and waiting for Paige to make her way to your room.

“ ‘Sup, mama’s” she said as she strolled through the door, pulling her hood down and unzipping her UCONN jacket.

“Hey, love how was that event thingy you went to?” You say trying to hide your nerves.

Paige, the entirely clueless girl that she is, tells you about the event just recalling that it was slow and sort of boring. Speaking about this while walking around the room getting undressed and ready to lay down.

“….But yeah that was basically it” she finishes, plopping down next to you on the bed. Her head slightly propped up against the headboard while one of her hands goes to rub your thigh. “Oh my god but babe there was this one bit that Ines and Aubrey were doing-“ she starts chuckling but you and your nerves can’t take it anymore.

“Okay babe, not to interrupt but I got you a gift and I really want you to open it… like right now” You rush out.

“Ooh a gift” she teases “Is it those Curry’s i’ve been yapping about” she jokes again.

Reaching into your drawer you pull out the small box, not really reacting to the jokes she made.

“… Okay now i’m nervous” she says wearily eyeing the box due to your lack of response. Still plucking it from your hands and lifting the top.

You hold your breath waiting for a response.

“Surprise? Baby wh-“

“Just open it, god damn”

Raising her hands in a surrender motion she responds “Okay, okay”

Carefully removing the white tissue paper to uncover the onesie, she hasn’t read the front of it yet as it was folded in a way to hide the message on the piece of clothing. She fully takes the onesie out letting it unravel and reading the front.

Her eye’s quickly fogging up and filling with tears “Baby yo- you’re being serious? Like you’re not fucking with me?” Her voice cracks as she struggles to finish her sentence.

You in a similar state and ready to burst into tears just shake your head a simple ‘no’ before you both lunge at each other to embrace.

Your arms wrapping around her neck and hers winding themselves around your waist.

“Oh my god we’re gonna be parents” she breathes into your neck. You still haven’t ceased your crying so you just aggressively nod into the crook of her neck.

————————————————————————

The next few months are spent in beautiful domestic bliss. Paige being the best partner you could ask for by always being there to help you, cleaning, cooking, driving you anywhere you ask and just basically waiting on you hand and foot.

When it comes to telling family the both of you agree on telling them through zoom rather than having to travel all the way back to Illinois and Minnesota. Of course everyone’s happy for you and their reactions are priceless but not as funny as when you tell the team.

When Paige and you finally break it to them after practice one day the screams could be heard from literally every corner of Connecticut. Ines and Ashlynn take off running throughout the stands screaming and hugging each other. Q and Aubrey are just as insane, running all the way to the locker rooms and back. Ice, Azzi, and KK are swarming Paige almost immediately while Nika, Amari, Caroline, Aaliyah, Jana, and Ayanna are surrounding you in the sweetest and most gentle group hug. It honestly brings tears to your eyes.

And of course you all go out to celebrate after, the girls not hesitating to tell any person they passed that you were pregnant, which ends up getting you guys a free meal + drinks (non-alcoholic obviously).

(Later that night Paige put out an official announcement on her instagram and twitter about the pregnancy, letting the world and her fans know what was going on)

————————————————————————

8/7/23

When it comes time to find out the gender (so around four months into your pregnancy) you and Paige decide you want a gender reveal. She seemed more excited about it than you did, she’d been obsessing over the gender since the day she found out about the pregnancy. She didn’t even care whether it was a boy or girl she was just so insanely impatient that it kept her up at night.

With the help of the team and your best friends Leilani and Dawn you guys had come to the decision to let everyone else do the work for planning the reveal, giving you and Paige time to relax and focus more on the baby. Letting you and Paige’s friends have full creative liberty for the party was the best thing you could’ve done as the girls went all out.

You and Paige stood hand in hand in the center of the park that they’d rented out, surrounded by your closest friends and family that had flown out to witness this moment. You’d shown up in a off the shoulder, white, maternity dress that fell just above the knee while Paige came clad in a short sleeved white button up and khaki pants, she’d let her hair down and curled it a bit which was a nice touch. Excitement buzzed in the air as everyone eagerly awaited the reveal of the baby's gender.

The girls had orchestrated the perfect setup, with off-white balloons filling the sky and a large box wrapped in pink and blue ribbons placed in front of the couple.

You couldn't help but feel a wave of nervousness wash over you as the moment drew closer. Paige, on the other hand, was practically bouncing with anticipation, her eyes sparkling with excitement and cheesing from ear to ear.

By now everyone had gathered around the two of you waiting for the reveal but first you and Paige wanted to say a few nice words.

Clearing your throat you got everyone’s attention while Paige placed a hand on the small of your back.

"Hey y’all!, thank you all for being here today. Paige and I are beyond grateful for your love and support as we go on this journey into parenthood. I just wanted to thank the team, love you girls, my family and Paige’s for flying all the way out here to share this with us, and my girlfriends since childhood for setting this whole thing up for us. We appreciate you so deeply and whether it's a boy or a girl, we know this baby is already surrounded by so much love because of all of you. Here's to the next chapter of our lives, filled with joy, love, and endless adventures. Cheers!"

Everyone claps smiling as Paige starts to speak.

“Um.. yeah what she said. Now let’s rip this thing open” She teases, referencing the box. “No but yeah, seriously thank y’all for the support, we couldn’t have done it without this village you’ve surrounded us with. From the bottom of our hearts me and Aniyah love each and every one of you so thanks again”

“Yeah yeah we appreciate you too, now open the damn box girl!” Paige’s mom yells excitedly from the crowd, holding her phone up and ready to record.

Everyone laughs once again but with a shared glance, you and Paige count down together, your voices mingling with the cheers of your loved ones. "Three, two, one..."

As the box was opened, a flurry of pink balloons burst forth, drifting up into the sky. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, surrounding the couple with hugs and congratulations.

You feel tears of joy streaming down your cheeks as Paige wraps you in a tight embrace, arms locked around your baby bump whispering words of love and excitement into your ear.

————————————————————————

8/22/23-11/19/23

The months that come next are followed up with the normal milestones, buying furniture, buying clothes, picking names, painting the room, prepping the baby bag etc. etc.

Which of course the two of you bicker about.

—

*flashback*

“Babe I’m not buying our daughter a onesie with just Kyrie Irving’s face on it”

Paige’s currently slumped over the shopping cart in target, pouting over this stupid onesie.

“But whyyy…” she whines

“ ‘Cause.” You respond back, short and firm.

“You hate me” she sighs out as she reluctantly goes to place it back on the shelf.

—

Even with all the good fortune and domestic bliss surrounding you, you still had quite a bit of anxiety when it came to the actual process of giving birth. You had asked your own mother for help and she recommended that you read a few books on it because in her own words “the second I started reading those things, all doubts just flew out the window” but now as you sit on the bed, Paige’s hoodie surrounding your frame and back agains the headboard, your hands won’t stop trembling while you flip through the pages of the childbirth book in your lap. No matter how hard you try, you can't shake the fear that grips your heart and all you can do is sit there with tears flooding your eyes.

You had tried to read while Paige was out for practice but clearly underestimated how quick she’d be in and out.

“Baby I’m home!” She yells from the hall.

Quickly scrubbing at your flushed face you respond back, voice cracking “I’m- I’m in here”

Paige enters the room, her eyes softening as she takes in your tense posture, knowing something’s wrong. Without a word, she crosses the room and sits down beside you, placing her hands on your thighs, rubbing comforting circles up and down them.

"Hey," Paige murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. "What's on your mind, mama?"

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into Paige's embrace. "I'm just... like- really scared," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Scared of giving birth, scared of what's going to happen. And my mom tried recommending these stupid ass books to- calm me down or whatever but all it’s doing is adding more weight to my shoulders”

Paige's heart aches at the vulnerability in your voice. She tightens her hands on your legs, offering silent reassurance. "It's okay to be scared, baby," she says softly. "But you're not alone. I'm here for you, every step of the way."

Tears prick at your eyes again as you bury your face in Paige's shoulder, her warmth enveloping you. "I just don't know if I can do this, like I really thought I was but the closer it gets to my due date I just feel like- like i’m gonna find some way to fuck it up” you admit, your voice muffled.

Paige pulls back slightly, cupping your face in her hands and guiding you to meet her gaze. "Baby you are strong, like strong strong.” She chuckles “You’ve gone through more than I ever have, and you still find a way to be the most passionate, caring, loving woman I’ve ever met” she says earnestly, her eyes locking with yours. "Trust me when I say you can do anything. I believe in you."

A flicker of hope ignites within you as you gaze into Paige's eyes, seeing nothing but unwavering love and support. With a shaky sigh, you lean forward, resting your forehead against hers.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice filled with gratitude. "For always being there for me, for making this process so easy"

Paige brushes a gentle kiss against your lips, her touch soft and tender. "I love you," she murmurs against your mouth. "And I'll be right here, holding your hand through it all."

“I love you more” you breathe out closing the gap between you two again.

————————————————————————

12/28/23

It’s three days after Christmas and your due date is quickly approaching. Even though your doctor said the baby’s due date was January, she could come at any time.

Paige had been walking on eggshells around you, ready to drop everything and grab that baby bag at any moment but it made it extremely hard for her when all she had was practice and games. Paige tried to take you to most of them so she’d at least know where you were but understood when your feet were especially sore or your back ached.

Today had been a particularly hard day, you’d been having Braxton-hicks pretty consistently for about a week or so and they were even worse today, the baby was doing triple backflips on every part of your insides and your feet couldn’t have been more swollen. Paige was very reluctant to go to her game today, seriously considering calling Geno and letting him know that the baby might come. You know Paige is one to overreact and you tell her you’ll be fine and you won’t be alone as Dawn and Leilani were still in town and wanted to hang out at yours.

Eventually Paige gets ready to head out not before kissing you deeply, rubbing her hand on your bump. “Do not hesitate to call up the team managers if something happens, seriously” she gives you a stern look.

You, loving how overprotective she is just stare back up at her lovingly “Yes, yes I will”

“Baby I’m being dead fucking serious, look me in my eyes and tell me you will. Actually you know what? I’m not going, I have a bad feeling about this and i’m not playing today, I’m gonna call Coach again. I need to be here if anyt-“ she starts rambling, pulling her phone from her duffel but you quickly interrupt her with a kiss, grabbing her wrist and putting her phone right back where it was.

“Babe.” you stare at her as she doesn’t respond breathing nervously “I’m fine, and everything will be fine if you just go ahead and leave already. It’s like you’re tryna make yourself late”

“But baby-“ she argues back, you two continue like this and after about ten more minutes of going back and forth you finally get her out of the house.

Dawn and Leilani finally arrive, they let themselves in and have not arrived empty handed. They drag in bags of your favorite snacks, blankets and drinks for the three of you.

You’ve all settled into the couch and Paige’s game has just finished the first quarter when you start to feel those intense sharp pains again, almost like Braxton-hicks but stronger. You try to get back to a comfortable position during commercial break and the girl’s notice you fidgeting around.

“You okay, Niyah?” Dawn questions.

“No yeah!- I’m fine” you shift again “baby girls just sitting weird” trying to brush it off and turn their attention back to the TV.

“… uh huh, okay” Leilani responds with an unsure tone and giving Dawn an “ikyfl” look.

The pain continues throughout the second quarter and halftime, the girls are still eyeing you wearily as they can see you’re in pain. Dawn asks again and again if you’re doing well and again and again you tell her you’re fine. The third quarter starts up and not even two minutes in does a sudden sharp pain shoot through your abdomen. You gasp, clutching your stomach as another wave of pain hits you. Dawn and Leilani’s necks snapping with how fast they turn to you you, concern etched on their faces.

"Aniyah, seriously are you okay? and girl don’t lie to my ass again” Dawn asks, her voice filled with worry.

You try to speak, but the pain intensifies, making it hard to form words. Leilani rushes to your side, placing a hand on your back.

"Yeah hun, we need to get you to the hospital," she says, her voice steady despite the urgency of the situation.

“N-no, I’m fine..” you take a deep labored breath in “…seriously it’s not that bad it’s probably just Bra-“ and you can’t even finish your sentence as a third wave of pain hits you, causing you to grip your knees and drop your head.

The room starts to spin as panic threatens to overwhelm you. Despite your attempts to remain calm, the pain feels unbearable, and the fear of giving birth without Paige by your side grips you like a vice.

"Aniyah, we need to go," Leilani says firmly, her voice cutting through the fog of panic that clouds your mind.

But you shake your head, the thought of facing labor alone filling you with a paralyzing dread. Tears blur your vision as you struggle to find the strength to stand, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I can't- I can’t do this without her," you whisper, the words catching in your throat as the next contraction hits you like a freight train.

Dawn moves closer, her hand reaching out to grasp yours in a gesture of solidarity. "We'll get you there, Niyah," she says softly, her voice filled with determination. "We won't let you go through this alone and we’ll get Paige okay? Everything’s gonna be fine, you’re gonna have a safe and healthy delivery but the only way we can do that is if we get you to the hospital”

You nod and with their support, you manage to rise to your feet, leaning heavily on Leilani as you make your way to the door. Every step feels like an eternity, the pain radiating through your body with each movement.

Outside, the world seems to blur as you're guided into the waiting car, the urgency of the situation pressing down on you like a weight. Leilani slides into the driver's seat, her hands steady on the wheel as she navigates through the streets towards the hospital. You can faintly hear through the ringing in your ears that Dawn’s in the back seat calling the UCONN team manager to somehow find a way to get Paige to the hospital. Immediately.

————————————————————————

(I wanted to include Paige’s perspective)

Paige isn’t on her best game as of right now, even though UCONN’s winning she doesn’t feel like she’s really focused on what’s happening. All she can think about is you at home, rooting for her from the couch.

UCONN’s up by seven by halftime and when she heads back to the locker room to check her phone she’s surprised and honestly a bit worried to see there’s been no recent texts from you. She has no time to stress over it though as Geno rushes the team over to talk strategy.

Once he’s finished Paige jogs back to her phone to check her texts and they’re still empty. She sends a quick “Everything okay bby?” before dropping her phone back in her bag, not even checking to see if it sent (which it does not as the locker room wifi is straight ass).

Third quarter starts and the team is on a roll, chemistry at an all time high, handing out three’s and assists like crazy.

Around five minutes in, Nika has the ball and runs it up the court and towards the basket, she goes in for a layup but turns at the last second to pass it to Paige who stands at the three-point line. She goes to shoot, quickly glancing at the bench to see the team manager on the phone and a few other staff huddled around Geno, which wouldn’t be strange if they weren’t glancing up at Paige every two seconds.

She lets go of the ball. Miss

Geno immediately calls a timeout.

The team rushes over out of breath and Geno pulls Paige off to the side with the team manager as he lets the assistant coach give feedback to the other girls.

The team manager still has the phone pressed to his ear, sharing panicked and hushed whispers with whoever’s on the other side of the device.

“-aige! Paige! Hello?” Coach’s been snapping his fingers in front of her face for a minute now, she hasn’t noticed that Geno subbed her out for another player and the timeouts been over. All she can do is glare at the phone, letting her thoughts overtake her.

“Huh?” she replies out of breath still staring at the manager.

“It’s about Aniyah”

that immediately grabs her attention.

“What’s wrong?”

“She’s in labor..”

“Are you fucking serious? Since when??” she doesn’t mean to swear at coach but there’s no way they’ve been keeping this from her.

“Not long! not long” he reassures “it’s been about fifteen minutes since they left the hou-“

“Fifteen god damn minutes? Coach are you serious, I need to go. Like now” she turns to run to the locker room but Geno grips her wrist.

“I’m not trying to stop you from going so calm down first” he says noticing the immediate scowl on her face “Just wishing you good luck, kid” and pats her shoulder approvingly, nodding her off to the lockers.

By now everyone’s noticed that UCONN’s star player has left the court so by the time the manager escorts her back to the locker rooms there’s tons of media standing at the doors. She shoves past them and into the locker room, ripping off her uniform, and storming back out. Thankfully security has moved them from the doors so she’s able to make a quick exit.

She throws her bag in the back of her car and hops into the front seat. Gripping the steering wheel knowing her life won’t ever be the same after today.

————————————————————————

As the car speeds towards your destination, you find yourself clinging to the hope that Paige will arrive in time, that she'll be there to hold your hand and offer you the strength you so desperately need. But with each passing moment, the fear gnaws at you, threatening to consume you entirely.

By the time you reach the hospital, you're trembling with a mixture of pain and fear, your heart racing as you're wheeled into the maternity ward. The nurses swarm around you, their voices a blur as they prepare you for the impending birth.

Your nurse, Jada, escorts you to your room promising she’ll be back in a minute to help you get more situated. She leaves, finally giving you a minute to breathe, Dawn helps you out of the wheelchair and lets you waddle your way to the hospital bed. Dawn helps you remove your crocs and scoots behind you to put your braids into a a wonky looking ponytail. Leilani’s currently downstairs waiting for Paige to arrive so she can show her to your room.

As Dawn finishes securing your braids into a makeshift pony, she notices the worry etched across your face. She places a gentle hand on your back, offering a reassuring squeeze.

"You're doing great, hun," Dawn says softly, her voice laced with empathy. "I know this is overwhelming, but you're so strong. And remember, Paige is on her way. She'll be here soon."

You nod, grateful for Dawn's comforting words, but the panic still lingers beneath the surface. "What if something goes wrong? What if I can't do this?"

Dawn's expression softens even further as she meets your gaze. "Hey, listen to me," she says firmly. "You can do this. You're a fighter, Niyah. And Paige will be here before you know it. We're all rooting for you."

Just then, Jada returns, her warm smile offering a small sense of reassurance. "Alright, let's get you settled in," she says, wheeling over a bedside table and helping you adjust the pillows behind your back.

You try to lighten the mood by making a joke as you lay back “Paige’s gonna be pissed at me, she had a feeling the baby was coming today” I chuckle lightly.

“You already know her ass is gonna bust in here on some hero shit” Dawn laughs back.

You go to laugh at her joke but are quickly cut off by an extra strong contraction. It forces you to double over your belly and reach out for Dawn’s hand, she rushes to your side as you squeeze so hard your knuckles turn white. This contraction is particularly strong and it draws a long groan from your lips as you continue to hold on to Dawn for support.

In the midst of the chaos, you hear the sound of quick footsteps approaching, as the contraction dies down you turn to see Paige rushing towards you, her eyes wide with concern and love, Leilani trailing after.

"I’m here baby, I’m here" she says, her voice filled with relief as Dawn moves from you to have Paige replace her.

Paige is there to comfort you for a while but the contractions get worse with every minute that passes. Your body aches and you feel like your bodies already been through labor a hundred times.

As the pain of the contractions intensifies, you find yourself gasping for breath, each wave of agony threatening to overwhelm you entirely. Despite Dawn's reassuring presence by your side, the pain is relentless, leaving you feeling desperate for relief.

With tears of frustration pooling in your eyes, you turn to Paige, your voice trembling with exhaustion. "I don't know if I can do this anymore," you whisper, your words barely audible over the sound of your labored breathing.

Paige's heart breaks at the sight of your distress, her expression filled with love and concern as she reaches out to gently stroke your hair. "it's okay, mamas” she murmurs soothingly, her voice a comforting presence amidst the chaos. "You're doing so good, you wanna get that epidural now?” she leans down to kiss your cheek.

You’ve been trying to hold back tears this whole time, trying to put up a front for everyone but when Paige asks you that question the dam breaks and you burst into tears.

You nod a ‘yes’ “I-I’m not like- weak for that right..?” You hiccup out in between sobs.

It absolutely destroys Paige’s heart seeing so upset “No love, not at all” , she leans in closer, her warm breath brushing against your cheek. "Let's get you some relief, okay?" she suggests softly, her gaze unwavering as she meets your eyes. "You deserve to feel comfortable, and that doesn’t take away how brave you are for doing any of this in the first place"

With Paige's words ringing in your ears, you nod, a sense of gratitude washing over you. As the medical team prepares to administer the epidural, Paige stays by your side, her hand firmly clasped in yours as you ready yourself for the procedure.

As the needle pierces your skin, a sharp pang of discomfort shoots through your body, but Paige's steady presence offers a sense of grounding amidst the pain. With each passing moment, you feel the tension slowly melt away, replaced by a profound sense of relief and gratitude.

As the effects of the epidural begin to take hold, you sink back against the pillows, your body finally able to relax after hours of relentless agony.

You get in an hour or two of sleep before Jada comes back in to check your dilation.

“We’re at an eight right now, moms. Nearing a nine, I’d say baby girl’s ready to pop in the next two hours” she smiles, getting up from her stool and pulling off her gloves.

You groan at the sound of two more hours of this and you can feel the epidural slowly starting to wear off. Paige smiles lightly, squeezing your hand as she’s sat in chair that she pulled up to your bed.

“I know, I know” Jada sympathizes, she smiles asking if you guys need anything before she goes. When nobody says anything she reminds that she’ll be back within the hour.

“I seriously can’t do another two hours, babe” you try to joke but the thought brings tears to your eyes again. “and i’m so fucking sick of crying! that’s all i’ve been doing for literally like the past six hours, and I’m hungry” you scrub hard at your eyes with the back of your hands and pout.

“I know ma, I know, I told you I’d order a bunch of shit from wherever you want after the baby comes” she smiles rubbing your knuckles.

Still pouting you respond “You better hold up on that promise too”

She chuckles a bit harder this time nodding. Her phone buzzes from where it lays next to your leg on the bed, she picks it up checking her messages and her face immediately breaks into a smile.

“The teams here, they wanted to talk to you real quick before the baby comes. Want me to go grab ‘em?”

You nod tiredly, over the years you’ve been with Paige those girls have been nothing short of sisters to you and them coming to see you at the hospital warms your heart to no end.

A short while later the girls shuffle in, staying in the corner of the room to talk to you and Paige (Dawn and Leilani left to grab you and Paige some stuff from the apartment). It’s sweet that they keep a distance, like they think they’ll hurt the baby by just entering your space bubble but towards the end of the conversation the epidural’s fully wore off and Paige let’s the girls know, sending them away with hugs and promising updates.

Paige comforts you about an hour longer when you start to feel like you need to push. You tell Paige and she quickly calls for Jada to come back in. As the medical team springs into action, Jada returns with a sense of urgency, followed closely by a team of delivery nurses and a doctor. Their focused expressions convey a sense of readiness as they prepare for the imminent arrival of your baby.

Paige remains steadfast by your side, her grip on your hand unwavering as she offers words of encouragement and reassurance. With each passing moment, the intensity of the contractions builds, urging you to push with all your strength.

With each push, you can feel yourself getting more and more tired than the last. You feel like you’ve been pushing for hours at this point and you’re getting nowhere.

“I- I can’t..” You sob out “Paigey, I don’t wanna do it anymore.”

Paige's heart breaks at the sound of your distress, her own eyes filling with tears as she watches you struggle. With a gentle touch, she brushes away your tears, her voice soft and soothing as she speaks.

"You're doing amazing, baby," she murmurs, her voice filled with love and encouragement. "I understand how tired you are. You've been so strong, but it's okay to feel overwhelmed. We’re here for you, okay love? Just a few more pushes I know you got it in you”

As the medical team continues to offer support and guidance, Paige leans in close, her forehead resting against yours as she offers words of comfort.

"You're not alone, baby," she whispers, her voice a gentle reassurance in the midst of the chaos. "We're in this together, and I'll be right here by your side, no matter what."

With renewed determination, fueled by Paige’s words and the medical team. With each push, you feel a surge of energy coursing through your body, propelling you closer to the moment of your baby's arrival.

And then, finally, after what feels like an eternity of struggle and perseverance, you feel the unmistakable sensation of your baby. With one final push, a rush of overwhelming emotion washes over you as you hear the cries of your newborn filling the room.

Tears of relief and joy stream down your face as Paige's grip tightens on your hand, her own eyes shining with unshed tears. As the nurses clean up baby Gianni, you and Paige eagerly anticipate the moment when you can hold her close for skin-to-skin contact. With each passing second, your hearts swell with anticipation, longing to feel the warmth of your newborn against your own skin.

Finally, the moment arrives as the nurses carefully place baby Gianni back into your waiting arms. With trembling hands, you cradle her against your chest, feeling the weight of her tiny body nestled against you. Paige's eyes shimmer with unshed tears as she leans in close, her hand resting gently on Gianni's back as she marvels at the sight before her.

"She's perfect," Paige whispers, her voice filled with awe and wonder. "Absolutely perfect."

You nod in agreement, unable to tear your gaze away from the precious baby in your arms.

After you've had your precious moments of skin-to-skin contact with baby Gianni, you turn to look up at Paige as she has stood to her full height to admire the two of you together. You can see her staring at Gianni, itching to touch her again.

“Babe? You wanna hold her?”

She’s still holding back tears so she silently nods, going to take off her shirt leaving her in a regular black sports bra. She sits back in the chair next to your bed and with gentle hands, you carefully pass Gianni into Paige's waiting arms, a soft smile gracing both of your faces as you witness the profound connection between mother and child.

Paige's eyes glisten with unshed tears as she cradles Gianni against her chest, her touch tender and loving as she gazes down at her newborn daughter. As Gianni snuggles closer to Paige, a sense of peace settles over the room, the bond between mother and child palpable in the air.

————————————————————————

12/28/24

The soft morning light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the hospital room where you and Paige are nestled with baby Gianni. As you watch your precious daughter sleep peacefully in her bassinet, a sense of contentment washes over you, filling the room with an aura of tranquility.

Suddenly, there's a gentle knock on the door, followed by the sound of excited voices. With a smile, you glance over at Paige, anticipation dancing in your eyes as you both know who's about to walk in.

As the door opens, Dawn and Leilani, step into the room, their faces beaming with joy and excitement. They crowd around the bassinet, their voices a chorus of admiration as they coo over baby Gianni.

"She's so tiny!" Dawn exclaims, her eyes sparkling with delight as she reaches out to gently stroke Gianni's cheek.

Leilani nods in agreement, her expression filled with awe. "She's so freakin perfect, just like her moms."

Your best friends coo over her a bit more before saying their goodbyes, leaving with a hug.

The next people to knock on the door are the UCONN team, Paige beams with pride as she introduces Gianni to her teammates, a sense of pride evident in every word she speaks. With each passing moment, the room fills with laughter and conversation, the camaraderie between friends adding to the warmth of the moment.

But the excitement doesn't end there. Soon after, both yours and Paige's families arrive, their faces alight with anticipation as they prepare to meet their newest member.

As they enter the room, their eyes light up at the sight of Gianni, their voices filling the air with expressions of joy and wonder. Tears of happiness glisten in your mother's eyes as she reaches out to cradle her granddaughter in her arms, her heart overflowing with love.

Paige's parents are equally ecstatic, their smiles wide as they shower Gianni with kisses and affection. In that moment, surrounded by the love and support of your families, you feel a sense of gratitude wash over you, knowing that Gianni is already surrounded by so much love.

As the morning unfolds, the room fills with laughter and conversation, the joy of new beginnings permeating every corner. Together, you and Paige watch as Gianni is welcomed into the embrace of your families, knowing that she is already cherished beyond measure.

In the quiet moments that follow, you take a moment to soak in the love and happiness that fills the room, grateful for the journey that has brought you to this moment. With Gianni in your arms and Paige by your side, you know that your family is complete.

#uconn wbb #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #uconn huskies #wlw #women’s basketball #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa #domestic fluff #fluff #angst #paige bueckers x black!fem reader #oc

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misc-obeyme · 8 hours

Note

Hey there Been binging your writing for the past 12 hours or so, have to say I am very immersed in it and adore it, thank you!

The way I've been viewing obey me dating is basically trying all of them out to see what I like best I keep thinking on nsfw moments where mc reaches climax, what would happen if accidently she calls out the wrong name? How would the brothers reacts? Dia?

NSFW MDNI

Hello, anon!

Oh wow, thank you! I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing!

Well I have to say that I think most of the demons would be offended in some way at that.

It's funny because I've always thought about how aware the demons are that MC is essentially dating all of them. Like it's clearly something you can do and I always play the game that way, but they kinda just pretend it isn't a thing. Or they sometimes mention it, but there don't seem to be any repercussions?

So on the one hand, they might not care at all if they're all aware that MC is doing that and they're already cool with it. Well, I dunno. I think they'd probably still be a little miffed, but they might be able to let it go a little easier.

But in general, I think it might depend on which name MC calls out, you know?

For instance, you can be sure that Satan would lose his shit if MC called him Lucifer. He would be mildly annoyed about any other name, but if you call him Lucifer? Yikes.

Similarly, I think Diavolo would actually laugh if you called him Lucifer. He'd probably be like wow what a compliment! Anybody else and he'd probably be like hmmm I'm not super fond of that, but I forgive you because you're MC.

I think Lucifer would be mad no matter whose name you said. How dare you, MC. Can't you see that he is the one making you feel this good right now? You're gonna hafta make it up to him.

Mammon would pout. I think he might even develop some kind of complex about it. You would need to reassure him a lot to get him to feel better about it.

Due to being the Avatar of Envy, I really think Levi would also lose his shit about it, no matter whose name you said. Levi is normally very subby and anxious, but I think when his jealousy gets the better of him, he can get intense. Miiiiight go a little crazy with trying to make you orgasm again and again until you get his name right.

Asmo would laugh at first, but then he'd be offended. C'mon, MC! He's the Avatar of Lust!! How could you possibly even have room in your head for anyone else when you're with him, huh?? Forever after that, he'll only have sex with you in front of a mirror so you can't forget which demon you're with.

Beel would be confused and probably a little hurt, but he wouldn't get mad about it. However, if you called him Belphie, he wouldn't be upset. He'd be like oh did you want him to join?

Belphie on the other hand would be angry but in a quieter pissy sort of way. Like he'd start acting petulant with you. But similarly to Beel, if you called him Beel, he'd suggest having him join too lol.

Everybody but Diavolo would require some kind of apology and in the case of some of the more intense reactions, well... good luck lol!

#these are just my thoughts of course #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me smut #obey me headcanons #misc naughty times #anon asks #misc answers

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radioisodoped · 8 hours

Text

The sun had just barely come up when you started packing up your things, a couple rays of light streaming into the room and warming your back as you stuff whatever you can manage into your bag. The next settlement is a two-day hike away, but you’ve got plenty of supplies. You’ll manage. Once the spoils of yesterday’s scavenge are safely put away, you make your way to the stairs. The wooden steps creak as you make your way down, idly considering which road out of town would be best.

Stepping down onto the landing, you see his boots first. One leg casually crossed over the other on the dust-covered table. He’s already got his hand cannon pointed right at you, gloved finger steady on the trigger.

“Come chat, sugar. I didn’t come all this way for nothin’.” he drawls, smoke billowing out from under his tipped hat. A bloom of anger grows in your stomach when you see he’s gone through at least half the pack of cigarettes you had stashed away. Half your whiskey too, you knew you were missing something. Bastard. All of that was worth at least a small handful of caps.

You glance to the front door, your barricade still in place. A low whistle interrupts your thoughts.

“Where’s your hospitality? C’mon now, come and say hello.”

He punctuates it by motioning to the table with his gun. Bastard. You walk over, dropping your bag at his feet. Casual house calls aren’t something you associate with him. Before you can ask what he needs, he interrupts you. “Sit down, sweetheart. You’re makin’ me nervous.”

You doubt it. His hand couldn’t be steadier as you pull out a chair for yourself.

You get halfway through asking what he’s doing here before he interrupts again. “I’m still waitin’ on a ‘hello, how are ya’. Where are your manners?”

The games are getting old. You ignore his question and level your best unimpressed look at him.

“Are you here to kill me?”

He huffs out a laugh but doesn’t offer a response. You try not to let it phase you, reaching across his legs to grab the bottle of whiskey before you speak again. “If you are, I’d appreciate a heads up. Maybe even some last words, if you’re feeling particularly generous.”

He laughs again, shaking his head. “You and me both know I ain’t the generous sort. Though, that has nothin’ to do with whether you’ll die today.”

You take a swig from the bottle, watching out of the corner of your eye as he sets his gun down on the table. You’d never let him know it, but you’re a little relieved.

Another swig for courage and his gun out of hand, you feel yourself loosening up. The pretty little .44 holstered on your thigh could take the leg off a brahmin. You flirt with the notion of wrapping your hand around it and shooting him right through the ribs. Oh, you’d die. That’s an absolute certainty. He'd have bits of your head sprayed all over the room before you could get a second shot in. It’d almost be worth it to fuck up his day, though.

You watch him take a drag off of one of your cigarettes and a different thought forces its way to the front. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve earned your way out of a sticky situation

It won't be the last, either. You'll make sure of it. With death still on the table, you loosen your grip on the bottle and let it hang loosely from your fingers so the rim is just barely brushing over your bottom lip.

He tips his Stetson up and you can finally see his eyes, watch the slow drag of his gaze from your fingers to your mouth. You part your lips just enough that the tip of your tongue can pick up a drop of booze that's settled in the mouth of the bottle.

He smiles, half amused. You'll take it. With a small shake of his head, he speaks again. "I'm not here to kill ya, sweetheart, but I am here on business."

"Color me shocked." you mumble, "And here I thought you just missed my pretty face."

"Why can't it be both?"

You make a noise halfway between a scoff and a laugh, setting down the bottle. "Careful, Casanova. Keep that up and I might start thinking you like me."

Burnt lips split into a sleazy grin, cigarette hanging loosely between his teeth. He leans back in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight. "'Course I like you. Don't you remember when we first met?"

Your face heats. That memory had kept you warm on plenty of lonely nights. You'd guess with the way he's looking at you, he's just as fond of it. A little teasing wouldn't hurt, and you're not in the mood to inflate his ego any more than it already is.

"Which time was that?" you ask, leaning back and pulling your eyebrows together to mock a thoughtful look. "The one where you left me on my knees without returning the favor, or the second time you left without getting me off?"

His smile doesn't drop, but you see a muscle in his burned cheek twitch. You hit a nerve. Good. You haven't forgotten how he neglected all of yours.

"Last time wasn't my fault. You knew better than to get handsy somewhere we might get caught." he drawls, most of the humor gone from his tone. He had a point- that was a mess. And mostly your fault. You still had the scar to remember it. He tilts his head, continuing on. "That first time, though? I didn't owe you shit. Besides, with the way you're still running your mouth... Well, clearly I didn't use it hard enough for you to learn anything. Seems to me you got the better deal out of that bargain."

Not one to be outdone, you stand. His eyes follow your every move, watching as you walk over. He barely has time to drop his boots back onto the ground before you straddle his lap, his spurs clinking as he settles. He's already hard when you grind down against him, steadying yourself by gripping his jacket. He does nothing to help, just leans back and reaches for your leg. You arch your back, welcoming the touch, but he just unbuckles your thigh holster, throwing your .44 on the table beside his own gun.

You roll your eyes, rocking your hips again. "Paranoid old man. If I was going to shoot you, I'd have done it while you were eyefucking me."

He laughs, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and stubbing it out on the table while he responds. "You should've. Would've made me want you even more."

"Do you get this hard for everyone you're going to kill?"

He spreads his thighs beneath you, his hands landing on your hips to keep you flush with his bulge as he readjusts. "'Course not, darling. Just brats like you.”

You’ve never wanted someone inside you more in your life. You ache with it. You reach down to fight with his belt buckle and he snickers. “Slow down and enjoy it, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re the kind of person who’d complain if you were bein’ hung with a gold rope.”

“Yeah, well, at least I know the rope can get the job done.”

You don’t have time to bask in the jab before you're sliding off his lap, surprised to find him suddenly standing. His hand wraps around your throat before he wrestles you down onto the rickety table. The whole thing shakes under your back, threatening to break under the strain of your struggle.

“You got a big fuckin’ mouth on you.” He sneers, leaning down close and narrowing his eyes. “I oughta not let you get off again just to prove a point.”

“All that would do is prove me right. You aren’t good for shit outside of killing-“

The slap shocks you. You’re suddenly looking at the wall, the taste of blood coating your tongue. A beat. Then another. You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him close until his cock is pressed right up against where you need him. He laughs under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “You crazy, insatiable bitch.”

He pulls his hand back, unbuckling his belt with a practiced motion that stokes the fire in your stomach. He slips his cock out unceremoniously, glove dragging over ridged skin. “You better be ready, sweetheart. I ain’t wastin’ any more time gettin’ you worked up. I told you I didn’t come for fun.”

Clothes are ripped and forced out of the way, his cock head pressing against your hole. He finally pushes in and you bite your lip, throwing your head back to stare at the stained ceiling as you moan out. “Yeah, but you’ll come for me, right?”

He hums, grabbing at your hips to pull you the rest of the way down his cock. “I always do.”

You choke on a moan, nails digging into the wood beneath you when he bottoms out. The whole table rocks as he thrusts into you, slow at first but gaining momentum quickly. This house was one of the safer places to be, but he wouldn’t afford you the luxury of a gentle fuck.

You know he could, if he wanted to. The grip on your hips isn’t painful, despite the punishing pace he’s set. There's something soft, reverent, in the way his hands drift over your clothes. Not like the way he touched you every other time you've had the privilege of his hands on you.

You're starting to think he really does like you.

The revelation unsettles you a bit. Not in a bad way, necessarily. You just didn't think he was capable of it. You watch the muscles in his neck tense as he holds back noises. You've bitten your lip raw for the same reason.

It's been a while for you. You'd had people since him, sure... but it wasn't the same. Never as satisfying as this. Maybe it's wishful thinking, but you think he might agree. He grunts and leans on one arm beside your head, chasing his own release. You want to make some smart quip, reminding him to slow down and enjoy it, sweetheart, but you think better of it. Your jaw still aches from the slap.

It's not long before he's unloading inside you with a groan, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips twitch against you. An unnatural heat reminds you to look for some radaway once he's gone, but you're distracted by his hand slipping between your bodies. Embarrassingly, it doesn't take much. Rusty or not, he knows how to use his fingers. The fabric of his glove drags along just right and you keen, back arching as you come around his cock.

He lets you ride the high, only pulling away when you go limp and start to pant. He pulls out, leaving you looking like a mess as he readjusts himself. He could still kill you. He might, honestly. You couldn't give less of a fuck if you tried. He holsters his gun as your eyes shut, enjoying the afterglow. Of course, he doesn't let you rest long.

“That was an awful nice treat, but we got things to do. Up and at ‘em, darlin'." He slaps the side of your thigh with a smile, jolting you out of your reverie. "We’re goin’ on a field trip.”

#.the ghoul #.fallout #notsfw #.bitter #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader

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20doozers · 6 hours

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★House party★

A/N: this is a fem version of my fic House party made cause @tomssexdoll wanted it.

TW: Angst, hints of a crush, being in the closet, cuddling, alcohol, underage drinking (depending on where you’re from), f!reader, hopeless love

You and Tom have hated each other since middle school, but always had this sort of flirty nature with each other, despite not liking each other, Tom would always do things like slap your ass or sit on your lap, hug you from behind, etc.

Tom and his brother bill were hosting a party at their house where almost the whole school would be there. It was crowded, loud music playing over everything and drunk people everywhere. Yet as Tom walked through the crowd, he spotted you, walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Hey doll.” He murmured into your ear, being just loud enough for you to hear him over the loud music.

You sighed, taking a small sip from the red plastic solo cup in your hand that was filled with only god knows what type of drink. You stayed silent, not wanting to put up with his antics or his breath that reeked of alcohol. Tom had a lit joint in his hand and took a few drags of it before he began speaking again.

“Why’re you so quiet today?”

He takes another hit before offering the joint to you.

“You always have something sassy to say.”

You shook your head, not taking the joint since you knew weed would just make you feel worse. You felt so icky, like a mix of overstimulated but understimulated at the same time. But would you tell Tom that? No. You just felt icky,maybe because it wasn’t your type of environment but you couldn’t really tell.

Tom frowned when you refused to smoke, he knew something was up when he was acting like this, so he put the joint down and just wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer into his body as he turned you around to face him.

“Are you alright? You’ve been acting kinda off all night… Is there something wrong? Did I do something wrong?”

He asked softly, almost as if the two weren’t supposed to be enemies. You just shook your head weakly and hid your face in the crook of Tom’s neck, not wanting to face your problems but just wanting some form of physical support. Tom could feel his heart beating in his chest, his face flushing at the feeling of his arms around you, and you being so close. He would never admit it out loud, but he always found you really really cute when you were like this.

“What’s wrong sweetheart? You okay?” he spoke softly into you hair. You shook your head weakly. “no…”

“C’mon talk to me..Please? I can’t help unless you tell me what’s wrong..” He rubs your back softly, whispering to you, it was only you two in your little world right now.

You just shook your head once more, not having the energy or emotional power to be verbal about anything. Tom figured he just needed to take you upstairs to his bedroom, some peace and quiet would help, right? Tom sighs quietly, bringing his arms up and under you to scoop you up. He began walking upstairs towards his bedroom, carrying you like a baby. After a few minutes they were in his room, where he gently placed you on the bed.

It felt so much more relaxing up there, away from all of the people and noise downstairs. You sat there on his bed, watching as he shut and locked his bedroom door for privacy, making sure no drunk party guest could waltz into his room. Tom turned on some soft music, shutting off all of the lights besides a dim lamp. He sat down next to you, wrapping an arm around you. He looked at you. He just needed you to be happy.

“Are you okay? you wanna talk now?..” You shook your head slightly, it’s not that you couldn’t talk, you just didn’t want to. You cuddled into Tom’s side, your body aching for some sort of stimulation while your mind ached for solitude. You didn’t know what you was feeling, you I sure as hell felt better with Tom.

Tom smiled softly, running his fingers through your hair. Your face was buried against his chest as he ran his fingers through your hair, it was very soothing. Tom had to admit to himself he really loved when you were so quiet, and just snuggling into him like this. He pulled you even closer, burying his nose in your hair, the scent of it made him smile.

You smelled so sweet, better than any girl he’d ever been with. Tom loved how you smelled, like the one time you accidentally left your sweater with him and he cuddled it to sleep that night. Either way you and tom were supposed to hate eachother, even though you really didn’t.

Tom loved that you left your scent every where you went. He even loved when you smelled of perfume. He loved that you were the only person who made his heart beat like this. He had never admitted it to anyone, but he thought you were perfect. Everything about you was perfect, your scent, your looks, everything. His eyes shut and his face flushed as he remembered how he cuddled with your jacket that night, he was supposed to hate you. But why couldn’t he just make you his?

You were cuddled into his chest, almost asleep at this point from exhaustion. You had your eyes closed and your breathing was steady, yet you were still somewhat awake, but not for very long.

Tom knew you were exhausted, and he knew you were on the brink of sleep. But he didn’t want you to sleep, not yet. He stayed there, running his fingers through your hair, wishing that this moment would never end. He just wanted to stay here with you.. forever.. he knew that probably sounded stupid, but he had felt this way since middle school. Tom never understood why he loved you, and he was too scared to ask out of fear of rejection..

Nobody really knew why you two were enemies, all they thought was something went bad between you, yknow, typical middle school stuff. But it was so much more than that, Tom was scared, scared of being rejected, scared of ruining things, yet more importantly he was scared of falling in love.

“If only they knew the truth..” He whispered quietly to himself, running his fingers through your hair. He thought of how nice this moment was, how he just wanted to stay here and in this moment forever. But he had to face reality, and he could never tell you how he felt in-front of those other people downstairs. He wasn’t sure if you felt the same. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if you liked him. So he just stayed there, waiting, waiting for a possible moment to reveal his feelings..

“..hm..?” You croaked quietly, your eyes fluttering open to look at him with a sleepy expression. When you looked up at him, his face flushed slightly. He quickly looked away to hide the slight blush. Tom never blushed, he didn’t want to look like a fool, but he couldn’t help the way his heart was beating right now. “N-nothing.. Just, uh, just talking to myself..” He mumbled out, awkwardly.

“Mmh..” You murmured and slowly fell back asleep, comfy in Tom’s arms for the first time. Tom smirked as he saw you fall back asleep, cuddling you closer, wrapping his free arm around you. Now that he could have you all to himself, he snuggled his face back into your hair, and breathed in the scent that he loved. He just laid there with you, not a single person in the world except the two of you. The two of you in your own little bubble. Tom would’ve been happy to stay like this for forever.

But Tom knew he’d truly never have the courage to confess, so for now he just stayed quiet, happy to have you in his arms even if it was only temporary…

“What?! A f!reader fic? I thought you were a sexist fag!” Crazy right? Me writing a fem fic, well not really writing but you know what I mean. Like stated at the top, @tomssexdoll asked very nicely so I did because I’m not an asshole🥰 love you guys! @billskeis you you might like this too.

Tags: @tomssexdoll @itsmealaiah @goreishgorinthgoreofshits @estxkios @cherry-rawr @charliesgoodboy @madzandmore

Lemme know if you wanna be on the tag list!

#tokio hotel x you #tom kaulitz #kaulitz #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz imagines #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel fluff #tokio hotel imagine #tokiohotel #tokio hotel

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wrongcaitlyn · 1 day

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Do you have any headcanons for the canon pjoverse???

oh my GOD DO I?? I HAVE SO MANY it's hard to even keep track of them all bc tbh i forget which ones are canon or not canon

in general i've put a *lot* of my hc's into my fics, specifically my because i'm a mirrorball series which is basically my version of will's backstory (even though a large amount of it was disproved by tsats... i'm just ignoring that bc it's already engrained in my head even though i did enjoy tsats)

i also think i share quite a few of the popular hc's of the fandom, just because i'm actually pretty new to it (read the pjo series in like september of 2022 i think? and then hoo and toa immediately after) and i consume fandom content to an unhealthy extent

HOWEVER here are some things i feel very strongly about

will is a swiftie. i think this is canon bc rick mentioned it during the tsats book tour i think?? or maybe cotg?? not sure but i DO think he said it at some point

and also his favorite album is fearless like he's that album's number one stan im sorry there's no other answer

nico can cook like rlly well

LEO NICO AND WILL FRIENDSHIP i know that leo lives at the waystation now. but. BUT. i'd like to think that he'd visit chb every once in a while and they'd be pretty good friends

adding on to that, aroace leo. caleo what? nope. leo is aroace and he was in denial and i actually wrote a whole fic about it because i just feel very VERY strongly about this

i just love the idea that even before toa, apollo was more present in his kids' lives than other gods. like, showing up in dreams and stuff. even if it came from a different purpose, like wanting to show off his poetry or music or whatever, he wasn't completely absent from their lives

i very much like the idea of will and nico sort of stepping up to be the "leaders"-ish of chb once percabeth leave for new rome. i mean, will already sort of is one with him being the head medic and also having seniority over a lot of the campers, and nico being a child of the big three like percy

percabeth returning to chb to create a sort of new rome type place for older demigods to live!! so they do not feel like they're going to die young immediately when arriving!!! bc they are children!! and deserve to live long lives!!!

i have a *lot* of thoughts about will and his trauma, but one of the main things i believe about him is that his fatal flaw is putting others before him and overworking himself. i think that being pushed into the head medic position from such a young age sort of emphasized this, though i also think (from my ideas of his childhood) that he was kind of always taught to put other people and other jobs at a higher priority than himself

nico dies first. i know i was just talking about them living long lives and i think that ends up being true, but also nico is a demigod child of hades and i think around his 30s would already be way longer than anyone would expect. anyway, i think that he dies first, simply because i cannot put that boy through any more, and i know i could say the same thing about will after having lost so much as well, but i think that the idea of nico being right at the entrance of the underworld by the river styx to welcome will once he dies (bc nico's the ghost king/prince of the underworld and isn't confined to elysium) is a very comforting thought

those are the main things i can think of right now just off the top of my head, but if there's any specific parts of canonverse that you'd like my thoughts about, feel free to ask! this didn't really cover a lot of like the general pjo/hoo timeline and it was mainly solangelo centric but likeee these are just things i thought of first! thank u for the ask!!

#wrongcaitlyn #pjo #will solace #nico di angelo #solangelo

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watchoutforthefanfics · 3 days

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the apple pie life for me (and you) // Dean Winchester x Castiel (SPN)

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: Cough Syrup - Glee Cast (Cover)

Summary: One minute, Castiel is confessing his love as he sacrifices himself, so Dean can live. The next, Dean is dead, and Castiel's avoiding him in Heaven. Or maybe Dean's avoiding him. Dean has probably never been more confused in his life, feelings for his best friend and all.

TWs: kinda angst, mentioned vomit, very slightly alluded child abuse (john winchester), a little bit of yelling, sort of suicidal thoughts (like yeah, but he's already dead), cursing, crying, low self-worth, mention of self-sacrifice, Dean is bad at feelings (and so is Cas), avoidance, mention of death, and confrontation.

[[A/N: This is a finale fix-it, but with the finale still canon, if you will. Except Dean doesn't like just drive until Sam dies. This actually ripped out my soul and shoved it back in. I felt possessed writing this. Also, let Dean say fuck. Anyway. This shit will fuck you up, but it's a happy ending !!! Anyway, enjoy :))) ]]

Dean doesn't think he wanted to die.

But he's not really sure. And he kinda feels like that's something you should be sure about.

As he cruises along in Baby with no place to go, but also somehow having somewhere in mind, he just keeps thinking about it.

Lots of things, really. Chuck, everyone disappearing, Jack, Sammy back on Earth (he thinks he's always gonna worry about him), and... and Cas.

See that's... that's where his mind hitches.

Because otherwise, after Jack took over, Dean thought things were going pretty good. Great, even. Him and Sammy doing the same thing it all started with. (Sans the Dad thing, probably for the best, but still-)

But, the more he thinks about it now, where there is nothing but the road, Baby, and him... That life, that wasn't what he wanted. He wasn't living how he wanted to. Sure, he wanted Sammy in it, but to say he still wanted to be a hunter?

When he thought about it, it kinda felt like he was still playing the role that Chuck had carved out for him. He knows he had free will then, he knows Chuck wasn't in charge, but he just... That role was comfortable, familiar, and he thinks maybe... both him and Sam just fell right back into it.

And then, there's the just him and Sam thing. It started like that, yeah, and don't get him wrong, he loves Sammy. (It's probably in his bones now, it's so ingrained in his friggin' DNA.) But it wasn't just him and Sammy, not anymore.

So, how can everything be 'goin' good' when you're missing pieces, people?

Like Jody and the girls, Garth and his family, Eileen, Jack and... and Cas.

So, even though, Jack fixed it all, it was still kinda like him and Sam were the only ones on the planet. Alone.

He wasn't happy with what he was doing, he was missing people like hell, and his brain was in near-constant turmoil because... because his best friend was dead. And it wasn't like he tried to stop it, live like how Castiel wanted him to. What he died for.

But he just couldn't. How the hell was he supposed to live happily when Cas was dead? Because of him, of all things.

So, maybe... maybe he did want to die.

Dean doesn't think it's only the Cas... thing, he thinks it's a lot of things (probably). But, he thinks him not being there is really what makes it all so wrong.

He thinks back to when Cas was dead before, when... when all he needed was a "damn win" and he got him back. Everything was so much better, even though shit hadn't been done about Chuck or any of their other problems. He had a damn win.

He's just starting to think that maybe he didn't need a win, maybe he needed Cas.

And maybe that's why the life he lived wasn't what he wanted. Maybe that's why it was so easy to die when he'd been fighting all his life to live freely. Escape whatever goddamn prophecies plagued his life, and live how he wanted to.

Team Free Will, he remarked somewhere in his head.

And yet, the only one living freely was Cas. Sam and Dean, written like damn books, apparently, but Cas?

Chuck said he never followed him, said that he had a "crack in his chassis" (whatever the hell that meant). And he'd even... the turning point for him was Dean. Goddamn "gripping him tight and raising him from perdition".

That was when he'd veered off the path Chuck had built for him, and out of the damn countless universes, this... his Cas was the only one who broke the cycle.

And then, he'd think back to the moment he died for the... for the last time. What he said, and how he said it, and even when Dean tried to twist it to something that wasn't so goddamn scary. He couldn't. Because he had said it clear as day.

And just telling him gave him 'true happiness' (like a damn fairytale). He didn't expect a response, or anything, just telling him. Dean couldn't wrap his head around it at all. Hadn't since the day he said it.

Every time he thought about both of them, Cas's... confession and Chuck's words, he connected the dots. He'd never let himself think about it, but now he had all the time in the world to. It's all he could do.

So, he let himself think it, just this once.

Cas... loving him, that wasn't planned. That was all Cas. This Cas. His Cas.

He maybe even loved him so much that it broke god's will.

How was Dean supposed to handle that? Digest that? When seconds later, Cas was dead. Even now, he couldn't-

There was a house.

To his left, it had been miles of just meadows and fields, and now... now there was a house. A white house, that you sort of just pictured in your head when you imagined a 'family home'. It looked kind of oddly like his house when he was a kid, but also not at all.

It had a white picket fence and a big yard. It had all the works.

The apple pie life, his mind chimed.

Dean paused a moment, wondering if this was someone else's. His eyes peered around it, focusing on the long, empty driveway (the kind that was half dirt and half rocks). And he came up decidedly empty.

He took a breath, and mumbled low (maybe to make sure he could still talk), "'S worth a shot."

Flinching a little at Baby bumping along the rocks, Dean slowly crept up to the house. Eyeing it the whole time, as if it would change when he looked away. Or maybe like it wouldn't feel right halfway up the driveway.

But, he felt the same all the way through.

Dean pursed his lips, staring at the white shingles and the big porch with two rocking chairs -one on either side.

It was two stories, but still small. And it wasn't perfect either, not like out of one of those friggin' house magazines where everything seemed so clean, it was almost scary. There were scuffs and marks, and the grass grew too high right next to the steps.

He took a breath, and stepped out of Baby, throwing the keys around his fingers on instinct. The jingle was the only noise that filled the air then.

It was crazy how much the air smelt the same, felt the same. He could see the wind shift the blades of grass and the branches of the trees, it felt so much like... home.

Even though Dean had never seen this house before in his life, it felt like home.

That... That feeling was new.

He let his eyes surf over the land a second, before catching on a barn -rundown and hidden behind the house. And even though it was, Dean traced the driveway all the way back to it.

Letting himself take one last look at the house, he slowly trailed back to the barn. Feet crushing over rocks and twigs, he truly had never felt more alive. Ironically.

It wasn't the long stretch of road, the slick seats of Baby, or the low hum of the engine. It was the sound of birds, the smell of flowers, and the fresh air. Dean nearly almost bent down to get dirt on his hands just to feel it again, instead of the smooth steering wheel he knew so well.

He didn't though, and instead, approached the barn. Somewhere in his head, it rang familiar. He wasn't sure why or how, but as he walked through the door it just... he knew it.

And as his footsteps echoed through the air, it hit him.

Dean spun around on his feet and looked toward the door, almost on instinct.

He did know this barn. It was where he... where he first met Cas. He remembers it more with all the sigil and black paint everywhere, but looking back at the door, at the lights-

He laughed a little, the dramatic son of a bitch.

Dean cut himself short, watching the doors. Maybe he was expecting something, someone, but he'd never say it out loud. He couldn't, not now.

Cas had been right there.

And there was a part of him that wished he still was.

He took a deep breath through his nose, wondering what exactly he was going to do with it. Or if he was just gonna keep it empty. Because...

He had the spare thought to make it into a kinda garage, build some shelves maybe, fill the walls with parts. He could pull Baby in, shelter her from the rain. If it did rain here. Somehow Dean hoped so. He wanted stuff like rain, snow, the crunching leaves, and the smush of mud under his shoe.

It was weird to say he wanted to feel human in Heaven, but he did.

Because when had he ever felt human? Really?

He wanted that. He wanted a lot of things now that could never have imagined back then. Or didn't think to, he guessed.

Patting one of the wooden walls, Dean made his exit.

His eyes lingered on the backyard for a moment, where the expanse of grass seemed larger, and in the corner, there seemed to be a fenced-off patch of dirt. Maybe for a garden.

He had never thought about having a garden, but he wasn't really against it either.

He looked at for a second, before thinking to himself. Cas would probably like that.

He had that bee thing, and bees like flowers, right? So, maybe he'd offer it to him. Let him have the space. It would be nice having him there, a little piece of him around him every day.

Because he knew that he was tinkering around somewhere, supposedly with Jack. And maybe... maybe it would be nice for him to have a break, a garden.

Dean bit his lip, tapping his foot a moment.

Was that what it was? Was that why you wanted him here, Winchester? Really?

He kept moving forward, steady steps back to the front of the house. For once in his life, there was no rush. He could take his time.

By the time he swung around to the porch, the wind had died down and left only the shining sun in its wake. It felt just like when the sun touched his skin on Earth, maybe even a little better. He liked it the same reason he liked everything else, just being human.

Dean moved up the steps, stairs creaking with every move and his hand drifting across the railing. It was imperfect with bumps and peeling paint, and he had a thought that maybe he could fix it one day. Maybe that's why the house is the way it is, so he could fix it.

Like maybe it had been built like that because he'd always wanted to do it. Fix up a house. Did Cas know that?

His eyes roamed over to the second rocking chair thoughtfully. He kind of had an idea of who he wanted there.

He let his fingers drift over the chair a moment, like maybe if he thought hard enough, he'd be there. Here.

Dean didn't think that he could talk to him, or maybe that he would be comfortable doing so. But that didn't mean he didn't want to friggin' see him, talk to him.

And even though it was scary as hell, he would talk about it if Cas wanted to. He just thinks that the natural progression is his response, and Dean... Dean wasn't sure he had one. Or maybe he had one, but he wasn't sure he could say it.

He was a damn coward.

Pulling open the door, Dean's eyes slunk along the walls. The first thing he saw was a hallway, softly colored walls, and frames along it. Stepping inside, he pulled the door closed behind him (on instinct) and drew his attention to the pictures.

A lot of them, he recognized.

Old pictures of him and Sammy, pictures of his Mom and Dad. But some, he hadn't.

His fingers trailed over a frame. It was him and Cas laughing in the bunker, he'd had no idea it was taken at all. It must've been Sam, but he'd never found the need to show him, apparently.

He had that sort of crinkly smile that he'd get sometimes, and Dean was saying something but he was laughing halfway through it. And Cas was just looking at him like he always did.

Ever since Cas's goodbye, he'd been rethinking everything he knew. Everything.

From the first time he saw him to the last, he'd looked through everything -trying to find it. Trying to see how he'd missed it for so long. And when he did, it was right damn in front of him.

That was probably what he hated this most, that he'd never seen it. Dean had never even thought of the possibility, only once or twice when some dick would make an offhand remark. (Which, when he looked back on it, happened a lot.)

And it has seemed just so far away. Impossible.

Maybe that wasn't because he hadn't... but because he was a broken human (past damn repair) and he was an angel of the Lord.

How could he love me?

And then, there was all that he said. That he believed Dean was so much better than he did. At his very core was love of all things.

"The one thing I want, I know I can't have."

Knows he can't have, it kept ringing through his head. As he wandered up the stairs, maybe even before that, when he was driving, and maybe even before that when it was just him and Sammy ganking bitches.

He didn't tell Sam, and maybe that was the biggest thing. Maybe he felt some guilt, or maybe... maybe he just wanted to keep it to himself. He wasn't sure.

Dean wasn't sure about any goddamn thing at this point.

He took a breath and peeked into the rooms. He didn't want to go fully in them, he wasn't sure why. But one of them, he recognized to be a guest bedroom. It was empty, except for a bed and a dresser -impersonal.

Maybe for Sammy someday.

There was a bathroom on the other wall, he thinks he has two. One downstairs and one up. (Maybe even three, he hasn't looked at his master bedroom yet.) He paused a moment, maybe imagining things on the sink. Imagining a rug he buys one day (do they even buy things? Or does he just think it into existence?). It was domestic, and Dean couldn't tell if he liked it or not.

He trailed down the stairs again, and just to his right, he saw another bathroom -right by the front door. It was empty again, except for the essentials. Toilet, shower, and sink. He didn't waste anymore time.

Across from it was, he guessed, the living room. And he kinda expected the same, just the essentials, maybe some fuzzy throw pillows that Dean would inevitably throw out. Maybe a rug he'd say he didn't like, but he'd keep it anyway.

But it wasn't.

Instead, Dean found something a lot more personal.

It was a big TV with shelves surrounding it filled with movies. And the more he looked at it, the more at it -they were his favorites. And on the wall under the window, there was a cassette player (no cassettes, but they were probably out in Baby) and to its left a mini fridge. Dean chanced a look in it and found his favorite type of beer. And under it, on one of the shelves was an unused record player. Beside both of them, there was one of those containers for vinyls (Dean had friggin' clue what it was called), and it was filled. He didn't have to look to know it was all his favorites.

There were bean bags piled in the corner like he'd have too many visitors for the couch. Or maybe they'd expect him to. Cas would expect him to.

Dean felt like his breath was shot out of his chest. A little like he couldn't friggin' breath.

His Dean-cave.

It was a damn upgrade, yeah, not with concrete floors and stuffy walls. But in essence the very same. Probably the perfect version of it in his head.

God, had Cas remembered that?

Remembered all of it? His favorite fucking songs, favorite movies, favorite shows- Had Cas remembered everything?

It made him want to throw up, or maybe like his heart was squeezed so tight in his chest that he felt like he might die. Again, he guessed.

Wouldn't be the first time.

Dean stared at the room, hand coming to rest on the back of the couch. He swallowed back the bile that was rising in his chest, it felt like his stomach was waves in the damn ocean.

He didn't know whether to cry or throw his guts up. It felt just like after Cas was taken by the Empty.

Like his world was shifting and crumbling all at once.

Dean stepped back a few steps and came up against the wall. His eyes burned.

He ran a hand through his hair, a little frantically, and tried to school the sob that climbed up his throat.

He's alive, he repeated to himself, Cas is fucking alive.

Some other voice chimed back, little and weak, But he's not here, is he?

He took in a deep breath, shaky, and leaned his head back up against the wall. Looking up at the ceiling, Dean thought maybe he felt tears roll down his cheeks.

He wanted to pray, bring him here. But what the hell would he even say?

"Hey buddy, confessing your love and fucking dying after wasn't very fun for me."

"What you did wasn't goddamn fair."

"I know you love me, but I don't understand it. I don't get it."

"How can you love me?"

"I think maybe I love you too."

His breath hitched in his chest.

He clenched his fist onto the wall, pounding it a few times. He heard the frames rattle in their places and felt the wood boards behind it under his hand.

Dean took a deep breath in and wiped at his eyes. Sniffling, he walked forward into the kitchen. Keep moving.

It was the cozy kind of kitchen, not the minimalist crap, with wooden cupboards and imperfect counters. The refrigerator had a few pictures stuck to it, held up by those damn alphabet magnets.

He just somehow knew that was Cas's idea.

And he laughed a little at it, taking one of them in his hands and rubbing his thumb over the shitty plastic.

His eyes smoothed over the space again, and he found something actually on the counter. He wasn't sure how he missed it the first time, but now, there was a slice of apple pie there. Probably the most picturesque one he'd ever seen. Heaven pie.

"Goddamn Heaven pie," he muttered, but he was smiling.

Before he could take a bite, of what he suspected might be the best pie in his life, he heard something.

A dog bark.

Dean nearly ran to the front door, leaving the pie stranded on the counter. Swinging the door open, he nearly stalled in place.

Miracle was there, yeah, and ran up to him a little like he was the only person in the world. It made his heart ache. But there was someone else.

"I've got a delivery," Charlie, his Charlie, smiled -grinned even.

"Charlie," he spoke, a little like it took everything in his chest to. She only smiled brighter.

Dean thought maybe he was crying, and he grabbed her in a hug. One that he thought may have been a little too tight but she didn't complain. She didn't say a word.

He put his chin on top of her head (just like he used to) and felt her hair (still short) under it. He used to do it to remember she was there, it felt like he was missing a fucking limb when he couldn't anymore. He never thought about the fact that maybe he could again one day.

It felt like everything in him was relieved, as if the tension had melted away. Somehow, someway, Charlie was exactly what he needed right now.

God, he hadn't even thought about her.

Well, he had. A lot. He thought about everybody he'd ever lost, that shit weights on your conscience. (Especially her.) But he'd never thought of her being up here, that he could see her again. Give her a goddamn hug-

He sniffled a little and dropped his mouth to kiss her on the forehead. She hugged him back just as tight, and he thought he might’ve heard her sniffle too.

Dean spoke before he could stop it, "I'm sorry."

"Dean, no," she pulled back, but didn't let go of his arms, "-you weren't- That wasn't your fault, you know that."

He was still crying, and maybe his voice was cracking, "I'm still sorry."

Charlie rubbed her hands down his arms for a minute, before changing the topic, "'Heard you took down God."

Dean laughed a little, wiping at his eyes, "Damn straight I did. Me, Sammy, and Jack."

"Would've loved to know him," she smiled -big and bright, "-but he's too busy for me now."

"Probably too busy to see me too," he offered, sniffling, "-if that helps you."

She shrugged, a little knowingly, "I think he'd make time if you asked."

He bit his lip a moment, thoughtfully, "Ya wanna come in?"

"Was waiting for that," she laughed, walking in -her eyes dipping over the walls, before waltzing into the Dean-cave, "-Look at your digs, Winchester! Not bad."

"It fit me?" He asked.

She turned to him then, grinning, "To a T."

He ran his tongue along his teeth, something heavy in his throat, "You know who made it?"

"I do," Charlie passively remarked, as Miracle ran up and jumped on the couch, "-We saw the house pop up a bit ago, not long, and we saw them out here, building it."

"Cas, yeah?" He asked like he didn't already know.

"Yup," she popped the 'p', running up to his shelves and seemingly skimming the titles, "-that and uh... Jack. But, mostly Cas."

She muttered something about 'shit, you have that one?', but Dean's mind was elsewhere.

"Do you," he started asking, swallowing kind of awkwardly, "-Do you see things on Earth? Like um... events, or conversations?"

"Only when we want to," she answered, still busy on the shelves (currently she was on her tippy-toes looking at the top one), "-I've been watching a few conventions over the years. Sometimes I peek in on you, or Sam, or Cas, for that matter. But I'm pretty content here."

Dean fell silent, fidgeting with his hands.

She turned to him, quirking a brow, "Why? Do you want to check in on Sam? It's pretty easy, actually-"

"Before," he started, and Charlie's lips snapped shut, "-Before the whole, uh, Chuck fight and Jack becoming... well, God. Cas died again."

"Shit," she spoke, "-how did he die?"

"Billie, ya know, Death, uh," he cleared as throat, and Charlie's eyes were on him (intently watching), "-she was after us. Me and Cas, and he... he sacrificed himself."

"Damn," she let out, "-have you seen him since Jack-"

"He didn't really... die," Dean kept going, maybe like he couldn't stop (he wanted to tell someone), "-There's this place where, uh, demons and angels go when they 'die'. From what I've heard, it's kinda like a void, an eternal sleep kinda deal."

Charlie pursed her lips a moment, maybe trying to decide if she should speak, "Yeah, I've heard rumors. Never been there of course, but um, yeah."

Dean bit his lip, and took a deep breath in.

"Dean," Charlie slowly stepped toward him, "-are you okay? Do you need to... sit down?"

"He made a deal," he continued, and maybe he wasn't looking at her but he really couldn't, "-Uh, the Empty, or the eternal sleep thing, um... would take him when he was the damn happiest he's ever been."

"And," she paused, laughing a little, "-how was he the happiest he's ever been when you were running from Death?"

Dean didn't say a word, and Charlie promptly cut her laughter short. The silence echoed a moment, and she stepped closer to him again (this was uncharted territory).

"Dean?"

He swallowed, his voice was a little scratchy now and his eyes burned, "He... He started this speech about- about me, and how good I was. That I wasn't just anger or... or hate like I thought. I was love, I raised Sammy for... for love, and do what I do, like stop the goddamn apocalypse, for love. That I was... the most selfless person he'd ever known-"

Charlie stayed quiet.

"-And he's lived millenniums," Dean laughed a little and it was wet (and maybe he was crying), "-I mean, how can that... how can that be true?"

"Dean," she leveled in a steady voice.

"And he just kept going," he laughed again, and he wiped at his eyes, "-and I couldn't say a goddamn word."

"Dean."

"And after all that," he felt a sob crawl up his throat, it shattered through his chest, "-after all that he told me he loved me. And just saying it, fucking telling me- That made him the happiest he's ever been."

Charlie's eyes were shiny, and she was looking at him a little like he would shatter at any second. But she didn't say a word.

"He said," he swallowed, his breaths shaky, "-He said that the one thing he wanted he couldn't have but I..."

He let himself say it, this once.

"Charlie, I-" he looked at her then, and she was frowning, her eyes were teary, "-I think he can have it. I think he-"

Dean took a breath, it shook through his lungs and laughed again -wiping at his eyes (like he wouldn't be crying if they didn't fall).

"-I think he's always damn had it."

There was silence then, and Dean didn't feel like he had anything else to say. Or maybe that he could say anything else. It felt like his soul had been ripped out of his chest-

Charlie seemed to take a minute to make sure, tediously stepping forward.

But when she realized he was, she pulled him into a hug again. This time though, she stood on her tippy-toes and pulled his head to her shoulder. Her hand cradling the back of his head, Dean followed her lead.

He took a breath in, that was just so Charlie, his Charlie, and it made his eyes fog up again.

She held him there a while, even though it couldn't have been comfortable. He knew that, but he couldn't be the one to pull away. Halfway because it was so long since he'd seen her, and halfway because he couldn't remember the last time he was held like this. Cared for like this.

"Did you," she started, slow and careful (gentle), "-Have you told anyone about this?"

"No, I... I died with it," he breathed out, "-I just... I couldn't tell Sammy-"

"Dean, hey," Charlie shooshed him, before joking lightly, "-that's okay. It just... It seemed like it was a little pent up."

Dean laughed a little, and she seemed to be happy about that.

"It was," he echoed out in the silence, "-I didn't... I didn't tell anyone."

"Well," she hummed, pushing her chin onto his shoulder, "-thank you for telling me."

Something in his chest softened.

"I think that's..." she spoke, gently, "-I think that's big for you. All of this is... is big for you."

There was a beat.

"You're doing your best, Dean," she soothed, squeezing him a little tighter, "-And maybe you didn't tell Sam, or tell Cas, but you did what you could. Everyone has their limits."

He let out a breath, less shaky this time, and dug himself further into her shoulder.

"That's nothing-" her hand rubbed against his back, "-That's nothing to be ashamed of."

He let the words sink into his skin.

"And quite frankly," Charlie quipped, "-your limit is way past mine. So, I can't judge."

Dean laughed again, and he could nearly feel her smile.

Thoughtfully keeping himself there for just a little longer, before pulling back. Sniffling and wiping at his eyes, Charlie stayed very close by, just in place for another hug.

"We good?" She questioned, a little playfully but on the same note, very serious.

"Yeah, yeah, we're uh-" he chuckled out, "-we're good."

"Can I..." she paused a moment, "-If you're not comfortable, don't answer it. But, is this your first... guy thing?"

Dean froze a little.

"You don't have to answer," she quickly added, "-at all. No pressure."

It's Charlie.

He ran his hand along his jaw, before rumbling out, "Kinda. I... When I was a kid, I knew, and maybe I even acted on it a little, but Dad..."

Charlie hummed in understanding, "He found out?"

"Yeah, uh," he spoke, suddenly awkward, "-I don't... I've never known how he figured it out. Or maybe he just... assumed, but he... yeah."

It was unspoken, and she seemed to understand.

"God," she asserted, maybe a little incredulously, "-he should really not be here."

Dean laughed a little, but something was heavy in his chest, "I don't know if I'd visit either of them anyway. Even without... this."

Charlie pursed her lips, "And you don't have to. It's your Heaven. If they... If they try to talk to you, let me know. I'll get a crew."

"A crew?"

"There's enough of us," she shrugged, "-He's an old man anyway, I'm sure I could take him."

He laughed a little again, "You'd be surprised."

She looked at him a moment like maybe that spoke louder than anything else he said. She squeezed his shoulder once, but gratefully, didn't say anything.

"And can I clarify something?"

Dean hummed.

"When Castiel..." she didn't say it, "-Did you not have time? Or were you just... scared?"

"A little bit of both," he answered, fingers tapping along the table by the couch, "-He said it, told me goodbye, and... and adios."

"But you wouldn't have told him? If you got the chance?" She asked, genuinely.

"I don't..." he sighed out, "-I don't know. I think, in the moment, I was just overwhelmed by it all. In-between how he talked about me, and how he... I barely processed a word before he was gone."

Charlie just looked at him.

"I sat there for a while before it-" he moved over to Miracle, petting him, "-it, uh, kicked in."

"And you-" she responded, a little slowly, "-you haven't seen him since then?"

"Well, I... I just got here," he explained, picking up Miracle's ear between his fingers, "-and I didn't even know he'd gotten out. Until... Until Bobby told me."

"Huh," she commented, sitting beside Miracle, "-Do you think he'd come? If you asked?"

Dean rolled the thought around in his mind, "I don't know, he kinda wanted me to live a lot longer than I did."

"How did you die?"

"On a hunt," he answered, simply.

"Shit," she muttered, "-What took you out?"

"Piece of rebar," he offered, wandering back around toward the shelf, "-Monster of the week threw me against a wall, right into it."

"That's..."

"Sammy was gonna call an ambulance, but I..." he echoed out, "-I told him no. I think- I think I wanted to die."

Charlie didn't speak for a moment, processing it, "Because of... Cas?"

"Yeah, mostly," Dean admitted, "-I, uh, realized it all when I got here. Drove Baby for a while and just... Just started thinking."

"About everything?"

"Yeah, uh," he hummed out, brushing his hand over Miracle's fur, "-everything. I wasn't happy there. Wasn't living the life I wanted, and I don't think I could have. Not without Cas."

She paused a second, "Do you think you'll be happy here?"

"It's Heaven," he laughed, not really looking at her, "-I kinda have to be, right?"

"Well," she countered, speaking a little carefully, "-Dean, you still don't have Cas."

Dean's hand froze in place.

"If you weren't happy without him then," she continued, thoughtfully, "-how are you going to be happy without him now?"

"He was dead," he spoke -defensively, "-He's alive now. I can... I can live with that."

"Dean," Charlie reiterated, low and gentle, "-will you be happy?"

"I've handled worse," he argued, but something in his chest was twisting.

She looked at him then, eyes steady on his, "But you don't have to."

He swallowed, repeating, "But I can."

She stood up then, coming right in front of him, and Dean nearly shrunk in place.

"Dean, he... he loves you," Charlie spoke, barely a whisper, "-and I think, somewhere in that thick skull of yours, you love him too."

He gnawed at his lip, "What's that gotta do with anything?"

"It's... everything, Dean," she laughed, a little in disbelief, "-It's got to do with everything. You deserve to be happy."

He took a deep breath through his nose.

"Isn't that what Castiel wanted?" she pointed out, "-For you to be happy?"

"Apparently not," he retorted, a little bitterly, "-how could I be happy when he's dead?"

"Maybe-" Charlie paused, cogs turning in her head, "-You said that he had to be the happiest he's ever been right?"

"Yeah," he replied, trying to follow.

"How could he be the happiest he's ever been if he knew he was causing you pain?"

Dean swallowed, his stomach twisting, "You think..."

"Dean, look I could be wrong," she clarified, "-but I don't think he thought you'd care. If... If he was the happiest he's ever been, and he loved you, he would never be able to cause you pain, or think he would, and still get taken."

He was speechless, something climbing up his throat.

"If he thought you weren't going to be happy," she finished like she'd had a major breakthrough, "-he... he couldn't have been taken."

"He..." Dean faltered to a stop, "-You really think he thought I wouldn't care?"

Charlie pursed her lips together, "I don't know how else it could've worked."

Dean felt like his whole body was on fire, like he was burning alive. Cas didn't know he cared? How the hell didn't he know that?

God, he cared so damn much, and he didn't even know?

He tried to think back to every time he'd lost Cas, all the grief. Dean realized he'd never seen that, he didn't see everytime he lost his goddamn mind because he was gone. For all he knew, everything was hunky-fucking-dory. He's just always thought he knew.

God, he didn't know?

She approached him then, holding his arms, "Dean, I know it's scary, believe me, I know-"

He just looked at her, words stuck in his throat. It felt like he could say everything and nothing at all. Like he was feeling everything and nothing at the same time.

"But he deserves to know," she finished.

Dean took a second, before saying, "Yeah, yeah, he does."

Charlie smiled at him, patting his arms, "You should talk to him, like... as soon as possible."

"Through what? Prayer?"

"Well, yeah," she laughed a little as if it was obvious.

"How do I know..." he exhaled, "-How do I know he'll come?"

"Dean," she assured, "-he loves you."

"Yeah, but what if he's-" he paused, "-what if he's avoiding me?"

"Dean," she repeated, "-he loves you."

"How does that-"

"That doesn't just stop," she interrupted him, "-It's not like if he gets uncomfortable, he'll just stop loving you. It's bigger than everything, if you ask him to, he'll come."

"But-" he tried.

"I know it," she continued, "-and when have I ever been wrong?"

Dean laughed a little.

"Actually, don't answer that," she laughed, "-Just, just trust me. He built this whole Heaven for you, didn't he?"

He responded, simply, "He did."

"He'll come," she repeated, "-You just have to ask, Winchester."

She'd left not long after that, with one solid hug (he didn't think he'd every stop hugging her, ever) and a promise to "tell me all the deets, including the juicy stuff".

Dean wasn't sure how to handle that.

He didn't do it immediately. He sat down and ate the pie first, which was the friggin' best one he'd ever had (he wondered if it always tasted like that up here). Then, he spent the next few hours going through his collection. He even popped in a cassette from Baby, had a few in-home concerts, and just sat with Miracle for a while (Dean thought that he might've known he wasn't doing something he was supposed to, he had a serious bitch face). And then it was night.

So, he went to bed.

He'll be honest, it happened a few times. Days happened (if that was a thing in Heaven).

It wasn't like he wasn't trying. He did, just every time he tried... He was just a damn coward. Kept saying, "I'll do it tomorrow." And it had very much already been tomorrow. A few of them, actually.

Part of him was kinda waiting to see if he'd just... show up like he used to. But, if he'd confessed his, what he believed to be, unrequited love to his best friend... he'd probably avoid him at all costs too. (He kinda already was.)

Today, though, was different.

Dean woke up, got his coffee, and instead of sitting down at the table and staring out the window (usually watching Miracle run around the yard), he went to the hallway. Couldn't tell you why, if you asked. But he just did.

And he stopped at the same picture, the one of him and Cas laughing. His eyes roamed over the crinkled smile, maybe a little differently now. An ache settled in his chest, like maybe he was missing a limb. Every morning he woke up, something was missing.

And sure, yeah, part of that was Sammy. But the other part...

His eyes smoothed over him again, and he just had the overwhelming urge for him to be there. And the thought ran through his mind again that he didn't know that he mattered. Cas was just living (relatively) with the knowledge that Dean didn't care, as if it was the truth.

With a breath, he decided today was the day.

He had given himself time, gotten dressed, sat out on the front porch (it was raining today, he found it kinda calming), and just readying himself.

Now, he was pacing in the kitchen.

"Cas, buddy," he tried like he was running through lines, "-No. Why would I call him buddy? That defeats the whole goddamn purpose."

He sighed, pinching his nose between his fingers, before trying again.

"Cas," he started, trying to think, "-that day. You knew I- Well, you thought you knew I-"

He dragged his palm down his face, groaning. How the hell was he going to do this?

"Fuck it," he decided, he was never going to get it right, "-let's wing it."

Dean let out a big long breath, shaking his hands as if to ready himself. And he really needed to do so.

He deserves to know, he deserves to know, he deserves to know-

"You can do this, Winchester," he mumbled to himself, "-You killed God, what's a damn love confession?"

Love, love, love, chimed through his head.

His stomach churned, but he stayed focused -eyes squeezed shut. Taking a few deep breaths, he stayed silent for a while. Maybe thinking a little too hard in his head, but at this point, there was no use in fighting it.

He deserves to know, he deserves to know, he deserves to know-

Dean let out a shaky breath, and opened his mouth -words slow and particular, "Cas, I don't know if you can hear me or if you're busy-"

Before he could finish another word, a voice called out from behind him.

"Dean," his voice was measured with a sort of lilt (maybe concern).

"Goddammit, Cas," he jumped, flinching, but turning to the angel on instinct, "-you gotta stop doing that."

He skimmed over him a second like he couldn't believe he was real. But he was, and he was standing right in front of him. Before he could say another word though, Cas started searching over him -quickly.

He lifted his arm (grabbing him by the wrist, Dean's brain froze a little), looking for an injury maybe, "Are you alright?"

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"What? Yeah," he blinked the haze out of his eyes, "-yeah, I'm fine, Cas. I'm in Heaven, what could hurt me?"

He furrowed his eyebrows in the way he always did and seemed to take him in a second. Blue eyes looked him over, maybe trying to tell if he was lying or not. (He probably could, if he was.) The way that he looked at him so intently always made him want to squirm, or run away, or make some odd comment.

It was a little relieving to see it now though.

"It's good to see you," Dean spoke without thinking about it. It was the first thing he thought of.

And it was, Cas being here felt like that missing piece was back in place. Perfectly slotted. It was kinda clouding his judgment.

Cas did the head tilt thing that he always did (and Dean let himself think for the first time that it was cute), eyebrows furrowing together. Even if Dean didn't know him well enough, he would've known he was confused.

"It's good to see you too, Dean," he finally spoke, cautiously but still so damn genuine, "-Although, I do wish we met in different circumstances."

Dean laughed a little, and the silence felt like he was being swallowed whole. But he just couldn't open his mouth.

"Dean?" He still said it exactly the same as he did the first day he met him. It made his head spin a little.

He looked at him, wordlessly.

"Why am I... here?"

Dean pushed his lips together, kind of deflecting, "When did you get out?"

Cas looked at him, maybe a little guiltily but still very sound, "Jack got me out... as soon as he had the power to."

"So, what-" he stated, trying to clarify, "-uh, right after Chuck was taken care of? When he snapped everybody back into existence?"

"Yes," Cas answered, "-After he left the two of you, he spoke to the Empty and got me out. It apparently wasn't easy, but..."

Dean but at his lip a little, looking to the ground a second, "So... So, all those weeks I was on Earth, you were out? Alive?"

Cas was just staring at him, mouth pressed into a thin line. Dean saw something shift through his eyes that couldn't really understand.

"And you-" he continued, now a little frustrated, "-you what, you didn't think to at least tell me that?"

"Dean-"

"No, no," he interrupted, "-I thought you were dead, Cas. Gone. And you just didn't want to tell me?"

"That's not," he let out a big long sigh, "-That's not the case, Dean."

"Sure as hell looks like it," he scoffed, and maybe he was frustrated but he couldn't find it in himself to be angry. Not anymore.

"I thought," Cas cleared his throat, maybe a little awkwardly, "-I thought you wouldn't want to see me."

"Why wouldn't I want to see you?" Dean asked, incredulously.

"The last..." he echoed out, like he didn't want to say the wrong thing, "-The last meeting we had wasn't preferable to you. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

He rolled around the thought in his head a second, and all he got was resounding defiance, but he couldn't quite say that yet. His head just kept pounding.

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"Did you-" he started again, searching for answers, "-After the Empty, did you think I was happy?"

Cas looked at him a second, before swinging his eyes to his sleeve almost instinctively (where the bloody handprint would've been), "Not happy necessarily."

"But your damn deal, or whatever," Dean waved his hand dismissively, "-you had to be happy. Completely happy."

"Yes," he answered, inquisitively, "-What is this about, Dean?"

"Cas," he responded, his voice a little shaky (he could see his eyes hitch on it), "-did you think I would care? That I wouldn’t give a damn if you died?"

He pressed his lips together and didn't say a word. Dean thought it was the most telling thing in the world.

His lungs felt like they were tied with rope -he couldn't get a good breath in. Like he was suffocating-

"Really?"

"You looked-" Cas tried to defend himself, "-You looked happy, Dean."

"Yeah," he explained, as if it was obvious, "-because you wanted me to be. And I was trying. For you."

He didn't respond.

"Because what good was a damn sacrifice if I didn't try?"

Cas opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Even though it looked like he was trying, maybe even trying to understand what Dean was expressing. Like he couldn't see it, or didn't believe it.

God, he really doesn't know how much I care?

He posed another question, wringing his hands, "Do you know how I died, Cas?"

"Of course I do, Dean."

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"I've had a lot of time to do some thinking," Dean continued, walking a little in place, "-and I think... No, I know that I did it on purpose."

"Don't say that," Cas spoke, voice heavy with something.

"Sammy wanted to call an ambulance," he continued, looking down at his hands and still walking, "-and I didn't let him."

"And you think-" something smoothed over in his eyes, "-you think you could've survived?"

"Maybe," he offered, "-I guess I don't know, but I... Cas, I didn't try. I didn't fight it. I spent my whole life fighting it, and when it mattered most, I didn't damn fight it."

Cas's face fell a little, some sort of understanding in his eyes, agreement even. It rattled through Dean's bones, and made it a little hard to stand a moment.

"I never thought that I could leave Sammy alone," he continued, and one of his hands racked through his hair, "-I was scared shitless to. But it was so easy to just give up. I wasn't... I wasn't living, Cas. Despite whatever you think in that angel head of yours, I was not damn happy."

Cas just looked at him, eyes flicking between his, trying to understand. He took a second, before replying, "I'm sorry, Dean. I would never want to cause you so much pain."

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

Dean's heart was pounding in his chest. He felt for a second that maybe it would burst through his ribcage like it did in cartoons. It felt damn powerful enough.

His breath caught in his throat, and he felt the urge for to say it. It was on the very tip of his tongue.

"I know, Cas," he deflected (something in his chests stung, coward), "-I know."

Cas just looked at him then, scanning over his face. He could tell there was something else, he looked right into his damn soul every time he looked at him, and there was something else. Dean waited a second, to see if he'd say anything, but he was hit with a resounding no.

Maybe he thought he'd already said enough. Too much maybe. Dean didn't know if he agreed with him or not.

"Cas, I-" he spoke, maybe a little quietly, "-I can't be happy without you. You gotta know that."

He was looking at him more intensely now, still trying to understand it all. Like maybe he couldn't imagine what Dean was trying to say. Or maybe like he couldn't even fathom it.

I love him, I love him, I love him-

"I know you didn't-" he cleared his throat, eyes flickering away (he couldn't look at him right now), "-I know you didn't see me. When you, uh, died, any of the times. But I- I gotta tell ya, I was far from happy."

Cas didn't interrupt him, he just kept looking. Staring. Like every word he said was important.

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

He just kept talking, at this point he could stop (his eyes burned), "I kept your goddamn trenchcoat in Baby the whole time you were..."

He thought maybe for a second he was working himself up, but he couldn't stop now.

"And when Lucifer stabbed you," he pressed his lips together, and swallowed, "-I gave you a hunter's funeral and... and watched your body burn up into flames."

"Dean," Cas spoke, he could maybe see the edge he was teetering on. Maybe he could see that he was going to cry, and that was new. Maybe he was trying to soothe-

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"And then, when the Empty got you," Dean's voice shook a little, "-I stayed there, for a... a while and cried, probably the most I ever have in my life-"

Cas flinched, maybe a little guiltily, "Dean."

"-I couldn't even answer Sam's damn phone call."

He was holding out his hands now, a little like how cops did, in those shows, when the perpetrator had a weapon or was threatening his own life. Cautious, careful. A little like he'd explode. Voice careful and measured, "Dean, I didn't know-"

"I know that, Cas," he interrupted, maybe a little defensively but he couldn't help it, "-I've been beating myself up about it since I realized that I never made it goddamn clear to you that I cared."

"Don't," Cas replied, a little pained, "-There's no need for that, Dean."

"For what? The fact that I didn't- That you didn't-" his words stuttered in his chest, and he just couldn't speak.

"I know now," he tried to soothe, and Dean's head was pounding, "-I know now that you... care. I know."

Care, care, care.

Love, love, love.

I love him, I love him, I love him-

It felt like his heart was in his throat, like everything was waiting to be said. Like it was right there, and he was so close.

"Is that what you wanted to talk about, Dean?"

All he could hear was his heartbeat in his chest, pounding, pounding, pounding-

I love him, I love him, I love him-

God, he didn't want him to leave.

This house was his too, he could just feel it in the walls. There was something missing, there was always something missing. Even when he was alive-

"Dean?"

How long had he wanted this? Wanted more?

I love him, I love him, I love him-

"Dean."

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"Dean, are you alright?"

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

I love him, I love him, I love him-

"Dean," his hands were on his shoulders now (just like before-), "-can you hear me?"

Pounding, pounding, pounding.

I love him, I love him, I love him-

Pounding, pounding, pounding.

I love him, I love him, I love him-

Pounding, pounding, pounding.

"Dean!"

I love him, I love him, I love him-

"Shit, Cas, you can have it!"

Cas looked startled for a moment, but he didn't step away, he didn't let go. Dean's stomach twisted. "What are you-"

"Back, back before the Empty... you said-"

Cas just stared at him, it made Dean want to stop but he couldn't stop-

"-you said, 'The one thing I want, I know I can't have'-"

He just kept talking, and Cas kept staring -something shining in his eyes. Dean thought he knew what.

"-and I'm pretty damn sure that thing was me-"

Cas was looking at him the way he always did, and Dean recognized it for what it was now.

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"-You can have it, Cas," he was speaking softer now, a little out of breath, "-You've... You've always had it. Had... Had me."

Cas was just staring a little in disbelief, dropping his hands, and stepping back a little (it made Dean's heart sting).

I love him, I love him, I love him-

"You don't-" he shook his head, not quite looking at him, "-You don't know what you're saying."

"I'm pretty damn sure I do," he responded, a little biting but there was just so much. It couldn't come out any other way.

Cas stared at him like he was trying to find the confusion, the lie, but he was coming up empty-handed. Wonder why the fuck that is.

"Goddammit, Cas," he pushed his palms into his eyes, "-are you gonna make me say it?"

"Say what?" He asked, like it wasn't obvious. Like he couldn't fathom it. It made Dean's hands shake, and his throat clog up.

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"Damn it, I love you too!"

The silence that filled the room was suffocating, but Dean just needed to breathe-

"And I can't be happy without you," he spoke, eyes still behind his hands (he couldn't look), "-and I want you to goddamn stay for once."

There was another beat.

"With me," and he thought he may have sounded a little pathetic, but he was very much past that point already.

And there was no one here who would ever judge him. Cas would never judge him and he knew that. He knew that like he knew that the sun rises in the morning and falls at night. Cas would never.

Before he knew what was happening, he felt hands pulling back his own -calloused fingertips against his own. Dean's breath hitched in his chest.

He loves me? He loves me? He loves me?

Cas was close now, and before he fully let go, he kept his hands on his face -cradling. And at first Dean thought he might kiss him (which he wasn't sure how to feel about), but he just kept them there.

He was looking at him like he always does (with love) and holding him a little like he was precious maybe, to him. Dean still couldn't understand that, but he thought one day he might be able to. That Cas might help him to.

"Okay, Dean," he spoke, gentle after a long sort of silence, "-I'll stay."

I love him.

He loves me.

#supernatural #castiel #destiel #dean winchester #deancas #spn #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #destiel fanfiction #watchoutwriting #spn finale fix-it #the apple pie life for me (and you)

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