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sturniolohouse · 3 months ago

Text

Do Not Wait - M.S

a/n: this got heavier than i planned initially but i just leaned into wherever the story took me. it's also very reader focused, which i realized way too late. but, do not fret, matt is still in it :) lmk if you'd like me to continue this as a series... i hope yall like it, im proud of it.

summary: while matt is away, reader learns and struggles with some unexpected news that will change both their lives forever.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, vomit, blood, death, grief, panic attacks, cursing. (no use of y/n)

word count: 11.7k

song: do not wait - wallows

"And it gets worse before it gets better That's one thing that I have come to know Just so you know"

“I hate to leave you like this,” Matt sighs, pushing my hair out of my face as his dark silhouette sits beside me on the bed.

I lay curled up in a ball after spending majority of the night sick. I feel terrible because I kept Matt up when he had to be up early for his flight to Chicago today.

Despite my attempts to avoid disturbing him, he spent most of the night beside me, rubbing my back while I hunched over the toilet and bringing me water.

I toss and turn, unable to find a comfortable position as my restlessness and nausea worsen by the second.

Matt’s hand touches my forehead, gently pushing my hair back and mindlessly scratching my head. I sit up as another wave of nausea twists my stomach, and I take a deep breath, hoping to suppress it. Matt sits up behind me, his hand now rubbing my back as I lean over the side of the bed with my head between my knees.

Thankfully, a moment later the wave of sickness passes and I sit up straight with a small groan as my body aches.

“I’m going to sleep on the couch. I don’t want to get you sick, and you have to be up in a few hours,” I croak, but he protests, gently pulling me back into bed.

"I don't give a fuck. I'll sleep on the plane, you're staying right here,"

As the morning light begins to filter through the curtains, Matt’s alarm goes off. By then, we had maybe collectively slept an hour and I knew he must have been exhausted. He got ready quietly trying his best not to disturb me, but I was already awake.

I don’t think sleep is in the cards for me tonight.

He places the back of his hand on my forehead, then my cheek, his touch gentle and searching.

“You still don’t have a fever...I don’t know if that’s good or bad,” He sighs, his fingers sifting through my hair with a tenderness that makes my heart ache.

Even with the faint light of dawn as our only source, I can still make out his concerned expression as he scans my face.

“I've never been this sick before. It must be a bug,” My voice is hoarse from repeatedly throwing up.

“Please, stay here with Nick while I’m gone so you have someone to look after you. I’m gonna text him now so he sees it when he wakes up. God, I don’t even want to go anymore,” He wipes his hand down his face in stress and I shake my head.

“No, stop, don’t worry about me. I’m gonna be fine. I’ll stay here with Nick. Please don’t be late for your flight,” I insist, gripping his hand weakly. “I’m going to make some tea and try to get some rest.” I go to get up but he puts his hand on my shoulder.

“I’ll make you tea, while we wait for the Uber. What do you want, mint?” He asks softly, his hand rubbing up and down my hip.

I nod weakly, thanking him.

I doze off a bit while he goes to make my tea, the repercussion of not sleeping catching up to me. When I open my eyes again, he’s setting my steaming mug on the bedside shelf carefully and placing two advils next to it.

“Text me when you wake up? And let me know if you have to go to urgent care, I’ll send you an Uber.” He tells me softly, his voice trembling with an emotion he’s trying to hide.

His reluctance to leave is evident in every line of his face.

I nod tiredly, “Mm, text me when you and Chris land. Have fun in Chicago. I love you.”

“I love you,” He kisses my forehead, before grabbing his suitcase by his bedroom door and leaving.

I was able to sleep a couple of more hours before I woke up again, dry heaving into the toilet because I quite literally had nothing left in my stomach.

I showered, brushed my teeth and went into the kitchen, searching for something bland to settle my stomach. I had decided to grab a rice cake and made more mint tea before I sprawled out on the couch in one of Matt’s hoodies.

It’s not the first time he’s been away, but this time, I miss him more than I anticipated. Even the scent of his hoodie brings a wave of emotion that catches me off guard.

We’ve never been one of those couples that spends every second of every day together anyway. Not even when we first started dating. We’ve always given each other the space we need.

But I must admit I could go for one of his hugs right now.

It’s around 10 AM when Nick comes down stairs and his face tells me everything I need to know about my appearance.

“I know, I look like shit.” I deadpan and he covers his mouth with wide eyes.

“I got Matt’s texts...I thought that motherfucker was being dramatic. Are you feeling any better?” He asks with a hand on his chest.

“Well, I haven’t thrown up in three hours, so that’s a new record. Your poor brother, I kept him up all night,”

“He'll live, do you want to go to urgent care?”

“No, I’ll wait it out. It’s gotta pass and I was able to keep my breakfast down.” I wave a hand.

Nick goes to make his own breakfast, slicing an apple before coming over to sit on the couch with me.

“Apple?” He offers me, munching on his own bite.

I decline shaking my head with a frown.

Nick wanted to watch Love Island, so I let him change the TV, feeling my eyelids grow heavy. As the sounds of the show filled the room, I found myself dozing off, giving in to the rest my body needs.

When I wake up, I have a blanket over me and Nick is editing on his laptop.

He notices me move and takes his headphones off one ear.

“Hey, you feeling better? Matt keeps pestering me for updates,” He shows me his phone with messages from a worried Matt.

I sigh, “Jesus...I’ll call him. But yes, I feel better now that I've gotten some sleep.” I get up and stretch my body, wincing at my achy muscles.

“How long was I out?” I ask grabbing my phone to see my own set of messages from Matt.

Kid worries too much.

“About 3 hours, you were knocked out. I’m gonna order food, are you hungry for anything?” He asks and my stomach rumbles at the thought of one food.

“I could fuck up some tacos right now,” I raise an eyebrow at him at my suggestion.

“I like the way you’re thinking.” He snaps his fingers pointing at me in agreement.

“Birria tacos for me and a Diet Coke. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go call your brother before he has a heart attack.” I say walking to Matt’s room and calling him.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Hey,” He breaths out, his voice soft.

“What did I tell you about worrying about me?” I tease him and he laughs, sounding relieved.

"Hi!" I heard Chris shout in the background, before I heard a door close and Matt sigh. I'm guessing he went into a separate room.

“If you saw the state you were in before I left this morning, you’d be worried too. I take it you’re feeling better? Heard you napped,” He speaks up again, talking at a normal volume now.

“I was physically feeling the state I was in. But, yeah, a little better after my nap. How was your flight?” I ask, playing with the trinkets on his shelves.

“Besides me worrying the entire flight about you dehydrating and dying? Fine. A little turbulence, but nothing crazy.”

“Okay, drama, relax. I’m staying hydrated, I’ve napped, Nick and I are about to order some tacos. It must have just been a bug. I must admit, you're very cute when you worry about me though.” I smile and he hums shly.

A beat of silence goes by and I look at the photobooth picture of Matt and I on his wall.

“I miss you,” I admit to him, leaning down to inhale the collar of his sweatshirt on me.

“I miss you too. You know I haven't even been gone 12 hours though,” He reminds me, sounding amused at my unexpected sappyness.

I sigh, “I know,”

Suddenly I have a lump of emotion in my throat and he automatically hears the switch of my tone.

“Hey woah, what happened? Why are you upset?” He sounds panicked.

“Oh my god, sorry. I don’t know. I’m not even sad,” I choke back my tears.

“Doesn’t sound like it.." He doesn't sound convinced. "Do I need to come home?" He says next and I'm immediately objecting.

“What! No. Matt, I promise I’m fine.” I tell him quickly, taking off my hoodie as I begin to overheat.

“I love you... I’ll be back before you know it, okay? S'nothing we haven’t done before.” He reminds me softly and my bottom lip wobbles.

“Mhm,” I manage to get out and he sighs again.

“Sweetheart... You’re telling me not to be worried, but I’m beyond worried. Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” He pleads and I shake my head even though he can't see me.

“I honestly couldn’t tell you...I-i think I just needed to cry, and missing you isn’t helping because I wish I could hug you but you’re so f-far,” I hiccup.

“Okay, deep breaths, how about you take a nice hot shower–maybe a bath. Use Nick’s bath and when you’re done, you can eat your tacos and you’ll feel better. Okay? Listen, Chris and I are about to leave for dinner, are you going to be alright?” He checks in, sounding hesitant to hang up.

“Yes, I’m fine. Seriously. I’m sorry. I must be starting my period soon.” I compose myself, trying to ignore the sudden ache in my heart.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, his voice gentle and sweet.

Any other time, he’d be teasing me for being a crybaby—lovingly, of course—but I think he senses that my emotions are genuinely beyond my control right now.

“I love you,” he says again with emphasis, wanting to hear me say it back.

“I love you, so much," I say weakly, "Have fun at dinner and tell Chris I said hi.” I tell him, wiping my eyes.

“Will do. I’ll call you when we get back.” He says goodbye, hanging up.

I take a deep breath and I shake my head, feeling frustrated with my poorly-timed emotions. I feel terrible for worrying him more, I wanted this trip for him to be fun. Chris had really been looking forward to going with Matt—it had become a sort of tradition for the two of them. I need to get my emotions under control.

I wince again as I feel the heaviness and soreness in my breasts. Sighing, I go to my phone and check my period app to see when this torture will be over.

My stomach drops when I open the app and see I'm 13 days late.

My head feels dizzy suddenly and I pinch my eyes closed as the pit in my stomach spurs on more nausea. I lay back and put my arm over my eyes and take deep breaths.

My mind races, but I can’t seem to focus on one thought.

No, I can’t be.

I’m just stressed, that’s all.

I have an IUD, it's not possible.

But everything's adding up; the nausea, heightened emotions, late period...

I sit up slowly, feeling the weight of the realization settle on me. My heart pounds in my chest and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the flood of emotions threatening to drown me. But there’s no escaping this.

With trembling hands, I go to call Matt back, my thumb hovers over the call button but I stop myself. He’s going to dinner right now, on the opposite side of the country.

I can't burden him with this, not when I don’t even know for sure.

Dropping my phone onto the bed beside me, I try to self soothe, taking deep breaths to steady myself, but the anxiety is relentless.

I walk out of the room and Nick is asking me what kind of salsa I want with my tacos before he looks up at me. He immediately furrows his brows in worry.

“Hey–what's going on, are you okay?” He sits up and places his laptop on the coffee table.

“I-I can't breath,” I gasp, reaching out for him, feeling like a little kid.

He instantly stands up, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

“What’s happened? Deep breaths, big deep breaths. There you go,” He rubs my back and I breath deeply with him.

My cheek smushed into his chest as I listen to the beating of his heart to help ground me. I pull away, still trembling and shake my head, unsure if I should even be telling Nick this.

This should be Matt.

Nick's eyes search mine, sensing my hesitancy. “You don’t have to talk if you’re not ready,” he says softly, his hands rubbing my shoulders.

I bite my lip, feeling a mix of guilt and desperation.

I don’t want to drag Nick into something so personal, but this is too overwhelming to keep bottled up.

“I… I think I might be pregnant,” I finally whisper, the words barely escaping my lips.

Saying it out loud makes it feel all the more real, and the weight of it presses down on me like a ton of bricks.

Nick’s expression shifts from worry to shock, his mouth falling agape and silence ringing between us. Once he hears me whimper, he snaps out of it and brings me back into a bone crushing hug.

"Shh, okay–it's okay, um…” His voice wavers, and I can feel his heart racing against my cheek.

For a moment, it seems like he’s trying to find the right words, but all that comes out is a nervous laugh.

“This is… wow, this is big. I'm sorry– I don't know what else to say right now,” His voice high pitched and shaky.

I can’t help but let out a shaky laugh with him, even through my anxiety.

“Yeah, big,” I agree, my voice barely above a whisper.

Nick pulls back just enough to look at me, his uncertainty showing in the way his eyes dart around, trying to process everything at once.

“I mean, I’m no expert on this—obviously—but we'll figure this out. You're gonna be okay, everything's gonna be okay.”

His reassurance is genuine, but I can see he's trying to convince himself too; a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

This is uncharted territory for both of us.

Nick and I had decided to order the tests along with the food, killing two birds with one stone. He’s doing his best to stay calm for my sake, but the trembling of his hands as he places the order is hard to miss.

"Okay, tacos and tests are on the way. I got, well, all of them because I don't know which one is best. I even got ice cream. Fuck, when did it get so hot in here? I'm overheating–are you overheating?" He says, his words moving a mile a minute as he fans himself with his shirt.

I can't help but to laugh as his nerves show and he shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, I know you're the one potentially knocked up by my idiot brother but I'm just so nervous. I'm sweating like a monster," His voice cracks.

"Do you mind if I use your bath?" I ask and he nods right away.

“Are you kidding? Of course, go ahead. Someone has to use it. I’m gonna…Well, I’ll just wait out here and try to chill.” He gives me a quick, reassuring smile, though it’s clear he’s still on edge.

I head to his bathroom and try to forget about my racing thoughts.

I turn the faucet on and put in some bath salts, checking the temperature before I step over to the vanity mirror. I take a look at my appearance and notice the puffiness in my face right away. My cheeks are flushed and my eyes are bloodshot.

I blow out a raspberry as I undress and get into the hot water.

The heat soothes my aching muscles and clears my mind. I soaked for a while, even draining a bit of the water and refilling the tub with more hot water. Once I feel myself pruning, I decide it's time I get out.

As I dry myself off, I notice light blood on the towel. My heart races, and I quickly check again—I'm bleeding. Very lightly, but there’s blood.

Relief floods through me, and I almost cry again, this time from the emotional whiplash. My legs feel shaky, so I sit down on the edge of the tub to steady myself, my breath coming out in shaky bursts.

Clutching the towel to my chest, I close my eyes and let out a long, relieved sigh.

“Thank God,” I whisper, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

I try not to dwell on the small part of me that almost wanted to feel disappointed. Maybe even mourning the part of me that might have embraced being pregnant–excited, even.

Instead, I focus on center of my emotions, the part where a massive weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Eventually, I pull myself together, cleaning myself up and getting dressed.

When I step out of the bathroom, Nick is on his bed, clearly trying to keep himself distracted. My eyes go to the food and the tests at the foot of the bed.

As soon as he sees me, he shoots up, his expression immediately shifting to one of concern.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice soft. I nod, a small smile breaking through the lingering anxiety.

“I’m okay,” I say, my voice a little shaky. “I uh…I got my period, I think,”

Nick’s face lights up with relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “Oh, thank God,” he shouts, “This is great fucking news—right?” He checks in and I nod.

“Yeah,” I agree, feeling a little dazed by how quickly everything has turned around. “I think we’re in the clear. We won't be needing those tests, I'll pay you back for them,"

Nick ignores me, pulling me into a bear hug, his arms so tight around me, I can barely breath.

“Shut up I don't care,” he says, “You don't have a parasite in you!" He cheers, jumping us up and down.

We both let out laughs, the tension that had been looming over us now replaced with a lightness.

“Let’s eat,” I suggest, letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

Nick nods, "Couldn't agree more,"

We sit on his bed and for the first time all day, I feel like I can actually breathe.

As we dig into the tacos, Nick puts Love Island back on and we rot in bed for a few hours.

But even as we talk and laugh, there's still a pit in my stomach. A small portion of me can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t over yet.

Yeah, there's was blood. But it was different than my normal period. It was lighter.

I try not to panic, but I can't help but feel like my intuition is trying to tell me something. For now, I push my thoughts aside, focusing on Nick beside me yelling at the annoying horny people on his TV.

Nick offered for me to sleep in his room but I declined, wanting to sleep in Matt's bed.

Matt never called me, but he texted me apologizing and checking in on me. I listened to a voice memo he sent me of all they did today and I was genuinely glad he was having fun, so I didn't mind him not calling.

Plus, I'm not entirely sure I'm in the right state of mind to have a conversation with him right now. I wouldn't be able to keep today's events to myself.

I know I can’t keep him in the dark—I need to tell him what’s going on.

I glance at the stack of tests on his dresser and sigh. The bleeding from earlier has stopped, leaving me with a pit in my stomach.

I know I’ll have to take those tests, even if only for clarity. But for now, I’m going to force myself to sleep.

I find myself in a place that feels both familiar and strange. It's warm, the sun showering the garden and I immediately know I'm in my grandmother's backyard.

The breeze picks up, carrying the scent of blooming flowers—lilies, hyacinths, peonies, and marigolds—enveloping me in a peacefulness that feels like a comforting blanket.

I walk along the familiar stone path, my fingers grazing the soft petals of the flowers. Each step feeling like a compelling, magnetic pull, guiding me deeper into the garden.

I see her then–my grandmother, seated on a wooden bench beneath the shade of the large oak tree I used to climb as a child.

My breath hitches, she doesn't look sick. Her smile is lively, her cheeks rosy and the green in her eyes vibrant.

But there’s something else different, a kind of ethereal glow about her that sends a chill down my spine.

“Come here, my girl,” she says, her voice soft and inviting.

I walk over to her, feeling a strange mix of emotions: comfort, longing, and an inexplicable sadness.

I sit down beside her and she takes my hand in hers, her touch warm and reassuring.

“I’ve missed you,” I say, my voice thick with emotion, unable to fathom her not sick in a hospital bed.

She smiles, her eyes full of love. “I haven't gone anywhere."

There’s a pause as I try to process her words, but then she looks at me knowingly, another shiver down my spine.

"You're glowing," She hums, tucking my hair behind my ear.

I look at her confused until she places a hand to my stomach. My breath hitches and I can't control the tear that rolls down my cheek.

I shake my head in disbelief, "How...d-do you know?" I whisper, my voice getting lost in the intoxicating breeze.

It's then that I feel a deep flutter in my stomach, one that I can't describe.

I place my hand over my grandmother's that still rests on my stomach. The flutter intensifies, my heart mimicking the pattern as warmth blooms in my chest. The feeling is overwhelming.

An unexpected, joyous sob escapes my lips before I can stop it, tears blurring my vision.

“You're both going to be okay,” My grandmother says softly, gently wiping away my tears.

My lip wobbles and I let out a shaky breath before she speaks up again.

“She’s strong too, just like you.”

“She..?” I squeak. My grandmother’s smile returns, softer this time and she nods.

A wave of shock and confusion washes over me, but before I can ask more, the garden begins to fade. The colors bleeding into each other until everything is a swirl of light.

Her voice echoes as the dream dissolves, “Don't be afraid, Petal.”

I shoot up, my heart racing, my face soaked in tears and my body covered in a cold sweat. I feel disoriented as I take in my surroundings and my mind tries to grasp the remnants of the dream.

My grandmother’s face, her words, the fluttering in my stomach. But now, that fluttering has turned into a twisting feeling in my gut.

Something was wrong.

My phone buzzes, startling me out of my tangled, fuzzy thoughts. My hands tremble slightly as I reach for my phone.

It’s my mom.

“Hello?” I answer, my voice thick with sleep and confusion.

There’s a pause on the other end, and then my mom’s voice comes through, shaky and heavy with emotion.

“Honey...I'm sorry I'm calling you so early, but it’s Grandma....Sh-she passed in her sleep early this morning.”

The words hit me like a punch in the gut, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. She continues to talk but I can't hear her, my ears ring and time slows down.

A flood of emotions overcome me.

Grief, shock, and the strange sense that the dream was more than just a figment of my imagination.

As the reality of her passing sinks in, I’m left with the weight of her final words to me. She was telling me something important, something I can’t ignore anymore.

My stomach twists again and I bolt to the bathroom where I throw up until I'm dry heaving into the toilet.

I'm not even shocked when the test immediately shows up positive. I stare blankly at the two pink lines, the only hint of emotion is the tremor in my hand as I grab the test and chuck it into the trash can.

I feel numb.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I see the emptiness in my eyes, the darkness encasing them. The person staring back is a stranger.

I'm pregnant.

I should be feeling joy, maybe even excitement—I want to at least, but all I feel is nothing. My experience overshadowed by my grief. By the anomaly of this situation, how this could have happened.

I have an IUD, I was bleeding, but here we are.

I wanted Matt to be the first to know, to share in that moment with him, but now everything feels wrong, out of order.

I feel robbed of the happiness I should be feeling.

I step into the shower and let the scalding hot water claw at my skin. I finally let myself break down, grief rattling through me and slicing me open.

My dream replays in my mind over and over again. My grandmother's eyes, her warmth, her words, her hand on my stomach.

“You’re both going to be okay,”

My hand instinctively goes to my stomach. I press my palm into my abdomen, expecting to feel that flutter, desperate to feel any sort of connection with the life that's there–to cling to the intense joy from my dream...but there's nothing.

It was ripped away from me from the moment I woke up.

“She’s strong too, just like you,”

I whimper, the sound dissolving into the rush of the water.

I don’t feel strong. I feel weak.

My grandmother told me not to be afraid, but I can’t escape this overwhelming anxiety, the suffocating uncertainty that engulfs me.

The tightness in my chest, the heaviness in my heart, the deep-seated guilt that festers within me.

I cry and cry and cry until I can’t anymore, until the tears run dry, leaving only the ache in my chest.

When the water turns cold and the sun fully rises, is when I finally get out. My feet drag beneath me as I walk back into Matt's room and get dressed.

I pull on one of Matt's crewnecks and some sweats before I go into the kitchen to make a tea.

I make myself an Earl Grey, my grandmother's favorite.

I sit down at the dining table and book the first flight back home to Maine, which is tomorrow morning. My mom and I spoke again and she told me the funeral isn't until next week, but I wanted to be there for her. I couldn’t stay here right now.

My stomach growls loudly and I press my palms into my eye sockets. I suppose I should really eat something with substance, especially now.

I grab the berries from the fridge that are in their last leg, washing them before forcing myself to eat. The tartness of the blueberries sparks a memory of helping my grandmother make blueberry pancakes on Sunday mornings. I smile sadly at the fond memory of being her little sous chef.

When 7 AM rolls around, restlessness overtakes me and I step outside, sitting in the front stoop before calling Matt.

"You're up early," His voice thick with sleep as he greets me through the line.

"Hey," I say weakly, letting out a sigh as I gaze up at the clear sky. There's not a single cloud in sight.

"What's wrong?" His tone immediately shifts to concern.

"Matt... my grandma passed this morning," I start, my voice trembling slightly.

I omit the dream and the positive pregnancy test in his bathroom, grateful that he can't see my face.

There's a heavy sigh on the other end. "I'm so sorry. I know she was sick for a while... Are you doing okay? How's your mom?"

"I'm... managing. And my mom, she's actually doing okay. I think we're all relieved in a way, you know? It was only a matter of time. I'm just glad she's not suffering anymore," I navigate my feelings about her passing, my voice surprisingly steady.

"Of course," His voice is so soft, fueling my longing for his touch.

"Do you think…there's any way you can change your flight on Tuesday to go to Maine? The funeral isn’t until next Thursday, but I’m getting there tomorrow afternoon." I ask, playing with a loose string on my sweatpants.

"Of course, I'll look at flights right now," he responds without hesitation.

"Thank you, I just....I need you there," I tell him, feeling a tightness in my chest when I avoid mentioning the conversation we need to have.

"I'll be there. I found a flight that will get me there tomorrow night."

"Matt–" I start to protest.

"I already changed it. No refunds," He cuts me off, his voice firm. "Sweetheart, you need me, I'm not going to make you wait until fucking Tuesday."

"What about the rest of your trip? You'll miss the rest of the festival, and Chris–" I try and reason with him.

"Listen to me carefully...I don't give a fuck about the festival. You need me there, and I'm going to be there. Chris will be fine, he's a big boy. He has Sam here with him and they'll fly back to LA together," His tone leaving no room for argument, his mind was made up.

A small, grateful smile tugs at my lips as tears well up in my eyes.

"I love you," I manage to say, my voice trembles with emotion.

"I love you, so much it hurts. I wish I could hug you right now but I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I’m gonna go talk to Chris, text me or call me if you need me. I mean it, kid."

“I will,” I promise, ending the call and looking up at the sky again, wrapping my arms around myself as the cool morning air brushes against my skin.

I take a deep breath, the air filling my lungs grounding me. As I exhale, I try to focus on the one thing I know for sure—I may not feel strong, but I need to be and not just for myself, but for the life growing inside of me.

My grandmother's words echo in my mind.

"Don't be afraid, Petal."

–

Nick wakes up shortly after, only taking one look at me before I’m breaking down again—the weight of everything crashing down on me like another tidal wave.

I tell him everything, my dream, my grandmother's passing, I show him the positive pregnancy test.

I cry into his chest, feeling overwhelmed.

"I'm just s-so confused," I manage to say between sobs. "In my dream, I was so happy... everything felt right. I felt connected with..." My words trail off, dissolving into incoherent blubbering.

Nick just listens, rubbing my back in slow, soothing circles.

"Listen," he begins softly, "your body is under a lot of stress right now. You just found out about your grandma, and then this very unexpected news on top of it… Every single emotion you’re feeling is normal, and 100 percent valid. But you have so many people by your side who love you and will help you through this, no matter what you decide..."

I sniffle, trying to regulate my breathing as I take in his words.

"I'm angry, too," I admit, my voice cracking with the strain of holding it all in. "This is so unfair. The timing of this couldn't be worse... I can't even talk to Matt and I feel awful keeping this from him. He shouldn't have to find out like this."

"Everything is going to be okay, deep breaths," Nick repeats, his voice calm as he helps me process the flood of emotions.

I blow out a raspberry, pulling back and running my hands down my face in frustration. When I look at him, he's watching me cautiously, trying to read my expression.

"I'm pregnant," I say softly, the words finally leaving my lips for the first time.

A mix of emotions swirls in my chest and stomach—fear, uncertainty, a strange kind of acceptance.

Nick nods slowly, his eyes still scanning my face, and for a moment, I find myself imagining if this was me telling Matt.

More dread fills me.

How will he react? Will he be the support I need?

We’ve talked about having kids before. They were always in the cards for us, but never this soon.

We only just started to discuss getting our own place and now our lives are going to be changing forever.

Nick helped me pack as I tried to arrange a last-minute appointment to confirm my pregnancy, which proved to be quite the ordeal.

The receptionists initially inform me that they didn't have any openings for weeks. However, when I mention the IUD and a positive pregnancy test, the urgency in their voice shifted dramatically.

They told me to come in right away.

The urgency in the receptionists voice on the phone didn’t help my nerves. Neither when they took me straight into an examination room the minute I told them my name.

They take my vitals, draw my blood and give me a cup to pee in.

I left Nick in the waiting room, dressing down into the gown they placed neatly on the exam chair. I look around at the diagrams of the fetuses and the posters of the development. I’ve seen these countless times and never thought twice, but this time I feel unsettled.

I swallow thickly and sit on the loud crinkly paper with the anticipation of the doctor coming in soon.

There’s a soft double knock on the door before a head of wild, curly hair peeks in.

“Hello, hello. I’m Dr. Sullivan,” She says washing her hands and sitting down on the swivel stool next to the examination chair.

The woman has a mane of big, unruly curls that frame her face, with chunky black square-framed glasses perched on her slightly humped nose, drawing attention to her bright hazel eyes. A wide smile, complete with a distinctive gap between her two front teeth, radiates warmth and adds to her quirky charm. She almost seems like a character out of a cartoon—lanky, with an energetic, bouncy stride that matches her bubbly personality. She can't be much older than my mother.

"So, you are in fact pregnant. The lab results confirmed the presence of HCG, which is the hormone produced during pregnancy. "

“Do you have any idea how this happened? I mean, obviously I know how it happened but, I have an IUD.” I say, still trying to wrap my head around the situation.

She nods dramatically, her lips pressing into a line as she listens to my concerns.

“Unfortunately, no birth control is 100 percent effective. In most cases, the IUD might have been displaced, or in some instances, the body rejects the device without you knowing. I actually would like to get clarity on that with an ultrasound, but I think it’s important for you to know the risks of this scenario here.” She says, turning slightly more serious.

“Risks?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” she says softly, “There is a possibility that, due to you having an IUD, this pregnancy may not be viable. Having an IUD increases the risk of what we call an ectopic pregnancy... are you familiar with that term?” Her hazel eyes lock onto mine and I shake my head, my heart starting to pound.

“Well, because you have a contraceptive device in the space where a fetus would normally develop, there's a risk that the pregnancy could occur outside the uterus. Typically the egg will implant itself in the fallopian tubes, which cannot host a safe or viable pregnancy...And if not treated immediately, the tube can rupture and cause internal hemorrhaging," She explains gently, carefully choosing her words to convey the seriousness of the situation.

I feel my heartbeat in my ears now as I process her words.

"So you're saying, this can be life threatening...for me and the..." My throat closes up and I can't finish my sentence.

She must take notice of the panic in my face, her round eyes widening slightly.

"If it goes untreated, yes. But I don't say this to make you panic, you're in good hands and whatever happens, we will take the next steps together." She places a hand on my knee, giving the tissue box so I can dry my uncontrollable tears.

"Based on your last period, you should be about seven weeks along. This ultrasound will confirm that and also ensure the pregnancy is positioned in the uterus. Before we proceed, I'd like to ask you a few questions... do you need a minute?" she asks gently, noticing my unease.

I hiccup and shake my head. "N-no, I'll be okay. Sorry," I mumble, wiping my nose.

"Don't apologize," she says kindly, giving me a moment to collect myself anyway, which I appreciate.

For a moment, I consider calling Nick in, but I decide against it. Even though we're close, this may be a little too personal, even for him and I.

"Have you been experiencing any cramping or discomfort in your back or abdomen?" She asks and typing my answer into the computer as I tell her no.

"Any spotting or bleeding?"

"I had some light bleeding last night, it only lasted maybe an hour... I had thought it was my period, but I knew something was off." I explain to her and she nods.

"That was most likely implantation bleeding, which is normal. It can be light spotting of blood, or some women experience heavy bleeding, similar to a period." She continues to take her notes before looking to me again, "Any tenderness in your breasts?"

"Oh, for sure. My breasts have been very sore the past few days,"

"Any nausea or vomiting?"

"Yes, the last couple of days–especially at night, I've been vomiting. I haven't really been sleeping well because of it."

"Yeah, the term 'morning sickness' is misleading... It can happen any time of day, you seem to be experiencing yours during the evening. Any other symptoms you've noticed that you'd like to note?" She asks and I try to think of some things.

"Uhh, I guess I've been more tired than usual, but I chalked that up to being up all night sick...I've also been getting hot flashes recently and I've definitely been more emotional,"

"These are all good to note, thank you very much," She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose before typing again.

She swivels herself back towards me, smiling warmly.

"We'll go ahead with the ultrasound now. But to get an accurate picture, we're going to do a transvaginal ultrasound, if that's okay with you."

"Okay, that's fine," I say, shakily.

She pulls the ultrasound cart to toward her before standing to move the stirrups into place so I can place my feet into them. She places a privacy cloth over me and I take a deep breath.

She puts a covering on the sheath of the ultrasound wand and places lubricant on the top of it. She taps a few buttons on the computer, calibrating the machine before turning towards me with a reassuring smile.

"So this will feel cold and you might feel a little pressure but if you feel any discomfort don't be afraid to tell me." She informs before placing the device inside to create the image.

I try not to wince and try to relax as much as possible. I go to look toward the screen but she has it faced towards her, so I opt to reading her facial expressions.

Dr. Sullivan adjusts her glasses by putting them on the tip of her nose and tilting her head back to get a better view.

She's quite animated with her expressions, her mouth opening slightly in concentration as she looks over the screen.

Although I can't see what she's looking at, she seems pleased, which is a relief.

"Okay, so good sign so far, I see your IUD," Dr. Sullivan says, leaning forward and pointing to the screen. "I can clearly see that it's sitting at the top of your cervix. It’s shifted down and away from your uterus. Do you happen to experience heavy cramping during your cycle?" she asks, her fingers tapping some buttons on the monitor.

"Yes, I do," I reply, the worry still gnawing at me.

She nods thoughtfully. "That could explain the displacement. Sometimes, intense cramping can cause the IUD to shift from its original position. It’s not common, but it does happen. It’s good that we’ve caught it now."

"I see the embryonic sac in, from what I can tell, a great spot. You're measuring at about 6 or 7 weeks along. Size of a blueberry." She says and I stop breathing.

I don't even hesitate to say yes as she asks if I would like to see.

My eyes are glued to the screen as I follow where her finger points, focusing on the grainy image. There it is—a tiny black oval with an even tinier dot in the middle. It's so small, I almost think I'm looking at the wrong thing.

“That’s... them?” I whisper, my voice barely audible as I try to comprehend the sight in front of me.

Dr. Sullivan nods, her expression tender. "That's your baby. It's early, but everything looks promising..."

"Really?" I squeak, still in disbelief, my throat tightening with sudden emotion as more tears fall down my face.

Relief— as she nods in confirmation, handing me the tissue box again.

Hope— as she zooms in, showing me the flickering of the heartbeat.

Joy—as I hear the heartbeat, feeling it sync with the thumping of my own.

For the first time since my dream, I feel joy, something beyond the crippling dread that had loomed over me all day. My heart swells and then bursts as I continue to stare at the flickering dot on the screen, blinking away the tears that blur my vision.

I breathe in shakily before a laugh escapes through a sob.

"Nice strong heartbeat, everything looks as it should... this looks like a healthy pregnancy," Dr. Sullivan announces, gently removing the ultrasound wand but keeping a looped video on the screen, allowing me a few more moments to take it all in.

"She's strong too, just like you,"

"So, the next step—for your safety—would be to remove the IUD today," she continues, her tone calm yet serious. "We can also discuss your options moving forward, including your decision on whether or not you would like to continue with the pregnancy. It's important to weigh all the possibilities and make the choice that's right for you."

"I-I'm gonna continue the pregnancy. It was in no way planned, but–"

"You don't need to explain...I had a feeling" She dismisses me gently, giving me a knowing smile, "I guess this calls for a congratulations,"

"Thank you," I say just above my breath, warmth still blooming through my chest.

After Dr. Sullivan removes my IUD, she tells me to dress while she steps out to calculate my due date.

I stare at the printed ultrasound picture, my heart swelling with a fierce protectiveness. I’m not worried about the complications or uncertainties ahead right now. All that matters is this life inside me.

I feel much stronger than I did merely hours ago.

My due date was February 7th, the same as my grandmother’s birthday.

–

I had landed in Maine a few hours ago, my mom and I were organizing all of my grandma's belongings. We spent the afternoon together, grabbing lunch before heading over to my grandmother's house.

The house always felt like a time capsule, preserving every memory. The duck wallpaper in the dining room, the scent of pine and clove, the worn couch cushions, her miniature schnauzer figurine collection, and the framed pressed flowers from her children’s weddings—everything was always in its rightful place. It always looked the same.

Memories of me and my siblings spending weekends here whirling behind my eyelids as I inhale the familiar scent.

It evokes a bittersweet feeling.

We keep the mood light, sharing stories with each memory we packed away. I still saw the flicker of sadness in my mom's eyes, even through her laughter as we reminisced.

Sitting on the carpet in the living room, we go through the boxes full of pictures to put together a collage for the funeral. I come across a picture of my mother pregnant with my older brother.

It's a candid photo in the kitchen of my grandmother's house, her hand resting on her swollen belly that pokes out the bottom of her blue shirt, a soft smile on her face. My grandmother is beside her, beaming with pride, tying an apron around her waist.

My mother looked so young, her freckles prominent on her flushed cheeks and her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.

I was always told I looked more like my dad, but seeing her like this, so close to my own age now, I can't help but notice the resemblance.

My mom notices my pause and looks over my shoulder. "That was just a few weeks before your brother was born," she says softly, her voice laced with nostalgia. "Your grandmother knew we were having a boy from the moment we told her,"

Her words send a chill down my spine.

I linger on the photo, feeling a wave of emotion rise up at the mention of my grandmother as the weight of my own news presses heavier on my chest.

"Were you really sick, when you were pregnant?" I ask, lowly.

She hums in thought, "With your brother? Only for maybe the first few weeks. With you though? Forget about it, I was sick everyday for months."

I stay silent for a moment, studying another photo of my mom and dad in the hospital room with my brother the day he was born. My mom is in the hospital bed, looking tired but radiant, while my dad is crouched next to her, gently cradling my brother in his arms.

"He was so bald," I laugh softly, and my mom chuckles beside me.

"His hair was so blonde, it was practically see-through. Your father called him 'egghead' for the first two months of his life," she says, shaking her head and rolling her eyes with a smile.

I look at the photo again, my gaze lingering on my mom's face. Her expression is filled with such warmth and love as she looks at my dad.

"How did you tell dad? You guys were both pretty young," I ask and she stifles a laugh.

"We actually found out together in a gas station bathroom..." She starts off with a slightly shameful smile, "I had been so sick on our camping trip with your aunt and uncle, so I decided on our way back home to take a test. We were shocked to say the least, but we were happy," She shrugs casually.

I think about how I was alone when I found out I was pregnant. Matt wasn't there, and it wasn't his fault, but the last 36 hours of keeping this from him has been torture.

The moment I saw the second line show up with fresh cold sweat still rolling down my neck, I had to bottle up this relentless guilt.

I feel guilt. It wasn't anyone's fault. This is the most serendipitous situation I've ever been in, but I put the blame on me. I have a choice and I'm choosing the route that will completely flip our already hectic lives upside down.

Tethering us together for life.

Even if this decision it feels right, it still carries an enormous weight. It’s not just my life that’s about to change—it's Matt’s too.

I have no doubt Matt will be supportive, but when you're left alone with your thoughts long enough, you can convince yourself of anything.

I've spent every waking minute wondering how he'll react, imagining every possible scenario, from the worst to the best. It's been an endless loop of 'what ifs,' and it’s taken everything in me not to just blurt it out over the phone.

"Were you scared at all? I mean, weren't you like 20?" I press, searching for reassurance in her response.

Her eyes widen before nodding, "Oh, we were scared shitless. Your father almost passed out. We had no idea what we were doing, but hey, we survived. For better or for worse,"

I nod, looking down at my lap and fidgeting with my fingers. My chest feels tight, and the weight of everything becomes almost unbearable.

"Mom, there's something I need to tell you... I–"

"I know," She looks at me with a small smile, her green eyes glistening with tears.

My brows furrow together, giving her a confused look.

"You do?" I ask, my voice trembling.

She shrugs, "I know everything, I'm your mom... Plus, you gagged at the smell of chicken today, that was a dead giveaway." She bites back a smirk and I cover my face, laughing through some tears before looking at her again.

"I guess I’m not as good at hiding things as I thought."

"You never were," She says softly as she scoots closer to me, bringing me into her warm embrace.

I sigh deeply into her, squeezing her tight and breathing in her comforting scent.

"How are you feeling?" she asks, still holding onto me.

"Scared shitless..." I joke and we share a laugh before she pulls back to wipe the tears that escaped against my will, "But I'm happy," I admit, scanning my mother's face for any sign of judgement.

There was none.

She wipes her own few tears, looking at me with only love in her eyes.

"My baby's having a baby,"

"I think grandma sent me this baby," I whisper, allowing my emotions to come through.

My mom tucks my hair behind my ear with her gentle, comforting touch and she listens intently as I tell her my dream. We hold onto each other and cry. I then show her the ultrasound pictures and we talk until the sun disappears.

My phone buzzes softly and I check the message to find Matt’s text that he’s landed and on his way. The reality of his imminent arrival causes a mixed-wave of nausea and guilt to wash over me.

My mom looks at me with a reassuring smile.

"I'll leave you two be so you can talk. I'll see you in the morning, my love." She tells me softly, kissing my cheek and hugging me tight.

Matt and I were gonna stay here during our time in Maine. It's best right now that we have our own space, especially since my brother and his girlfriend are staying by my parents house.

As she heads out, I take a deep breath and text Matt to let him know the door is unlocked. I slip into the shower, trying to calm my racing thoughts and steady my nerves. The warm water helps, but my mind keeps racing as I mentally prepare for the conversation ahead.

Wrapped in a towel, I check my reflection in the mirror, trying to see if I look any more put together than before.

I think this is the best we're going to get.

I jump when I here the front door open and shut, then some feet shuffling. My heart skips a beat.

Matt's here.

"It's just me," I hear him call out as well as more shuffling and a paper bag crinkling.

"Hey! I-I'll be right out!" I call back out, my heart picking up again but I take a deep breath.

I quickly get dressed in a tank top and shorts; there's a heat wave here, and I can't figure out how to adjust the thermostat.

I step out of the bathroom to see Matt standing at the kitchen island, unpacking burgers and fries onto the counter. The aroma of it makes my stomach growl and I realize I hadn't eaten anything since lunch.

I admire him for a second; he's wearing pink sweatpants, a black hoodie and a backwards fitted hat.

He turns at the sound of my presence and his face softens. I'm trembling when he steps forward to embrace me into a tight hug. He buries his face into my neck before giving me a few kisses there.

"Hi," I breath out, my voice shaky.

I was so nervous.

"Hey, you okay?" His voice is so soft, my heart aches. He pulls away, rubbing his hands up and down my arms while scanning my face.

"You're shaking. What's going on?" He presses.

He knows something is up, he can see it all over my face. I shake my head, brushing it off to have one more minute with him.

I pull him back to me, wrapping my arms around his neck this time and locking him against me. He bends down a bit to accommodate but doesn't question it, just hugging me back. His arms wrapping around my waist and pressing our stomachs together.

My heart is slamming against my ribcage and I know he can feel it, his thumb rubbing my hip soothingly tells me he does.

"How are you doing?" His voice is muffled with his face buried into my neck.

"I'm okay, better now that you're here. I missed you," I mumble, kissing the side of his neck and running my hand down between his shoulder blades.

I breath him in, noting the warmth of him and the solidness of his body against me.

"I missed you... I brought us food. I don't know about you, but I'm fucking starving," He puts his hands on my hips to pull back from the hug, but I stay put.

He chuckles, giving me one more squeeze.

I pull back just enough to line our faces up and give him a kiss, which he eagerly returns.

"Thank you for being here, it means a lot," I say against his lips and he pulls back slightly to push my hair out of my face.

"I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else." He hums into another kiss, then places three quick pecks before giving my butt a light tap, signaling that it’s time to let him go.

I finally release him and head to the food on the counter.

"I passed a Five Guys on the way here, so I hope that's good for you," He grabs a handful of fries before munching on them.

As I reach the counter, the smell of the burgers makes my mouth water, and I can’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness.

“Five Guys is perfect, thank you,” I say, grabbing a fry from the bag and tasting its salty warmth.

Matt grins, clearly pleased with himself. “Good, because I was too hungry to think of anything else,” he jokes, unwrapping one of the burgers and handing it to me.

I take it, thanking him quietly, my fingers brushing against his. For a moment, I just look at him.

He’s here, and I should be telling him I’m pregnant with his child, but instead, we’re standing in the kitchen eating burgers. As if I’m trying to cling to this last bit of normalcy before everything changes.

I force myself to take a bite of my burger, moaning at the greasy, savory goodness. Matt smirks at me, taking a hearty bite of his own burger.

“S’good?” he asks through his bite, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

I nod, moaning again in response, savoring the taste as it temporarily distracts me from everything else.

Matt takes a sip of his drink before bringing a napkin to my face and wiping the corner of my mouth and chin.

"Wipe ya lip, kid," He teases and I roll my eyes, grabbing the napkin from him.

Matt inhales another large bite of his burger, and we slip into our familiar rhythm.

He tells me about his brief trip to Chicago, and I’m relieved to hear he managed to gather a few funny stories and catch at least one day of the festival. He’s notably enthusiastic while he talks, and I can’t help but smile at his excitement.

He also reassured me that Chris wasn't upset at all, which I already knew from the sweet text he sent me this morning.

“Well, I’m glad you had fun,” I say, trying to match his enthusiasm.

I then give him the rundown for the next few days while we prepare for the funeral and memorial.

We continue eating, the conversation shifting to lighter topics as we enjoy the burgers and each other’s company.

It feels so easy, so light. It always is with us. But underneath the surface, the words I need to say weigh heavy on my mind, threatening to break the easy rhythm.

Matt watches me closely, his own burger forgotten for the moment as he sees me disappear inside my head again.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again, his eyes look between mine. “You seem… I don’t know, you're acting weird.” He tries to find the right words.

"Matt..." I go to dismiss him, getting up slowly but he cuts me off, standing up too.

"No, I'm serious. You've been acting weird for days, and I'm no longer 2000 miles away for you to push me away or avoid me." He steps closer to me, trapping me against the counter with his arms on either side of me.

"Is it your about grandma? Did something else happen while I was gone?" He throws out, looking between my eyes.

"I–" I try to speak up but my voice gets caught in my throat and I get lost in the icy storm of his relentless gaze.

"It's not just my grandma," I manage to say, the admission causing him to soften slightly, a glimmer of relief at the small breakthrough.

"Okay, so talk to me, sweetheart. Please, I've been worried sick about you. You have no idea," he pleads, his breath brushing against my skin.

"I didn't know how to tell you..." I try to put together my words but I feel like I'm making it all worse.

I watch as his eyebrows pinch together and he leans down more so he's eye level with me instead towering over me.

"Tell me what, kid. I'm not a mind reader," His voice strains, frustration evident in his face.

When I try to break eye contact with him he pulls my chin to align our eyes again.

"What, d'you crash my car?" he guesses, clearly joking, his eyebrows raising playfully.

I can't help but smile and snort at his attempt to ease the tension.

"No, it’s not that," I say, my voice cracking slightly. "It's much bigger than that," I trail off and he waits expectantly.

"I uh– I went to the doctor yesterday," I pause and study his face, which drops ever so slightly, seeming to be bracing himself.

He stays silent, whether it was out of patience or fear, nothing could have prepared for my next sentence.

"I went to confirm that I was pregnant," I finally blurt out, my voice shaky, and he freezes.

Not one muscle moves in his face or his body.

"You're..." His voice cracks and he clears his dry throat, hitting his chest, "Are you serious?"

"I'm seven weeks, or a month and a half," I stammer, my voice wavering. "I don't really know how to—"

"Seven..." He whispers in disbelief, the shock settling in and I nod. "Y-you were on birth control– you have that AED–"

"IUD, yes, I did. It still happened, that shit is useless if it moves out of place," I explain and he looks down between us.

"A-and everything's okay, you're okay?" He looks up at me again, holding onto my face.

I take hold of his wrists, rubbing my thumb over his skin.

"I'm fine, the baby's fine..." I say softly and his eyes widen in realization as he pales.

"Oh my fucking god," He pulls back, cupping his hands over his mouth. "I need to sit down."

"Okay, okay. Do you want water?" I panic, hoping he doesn't pass out or puke.

He takes a seat at the dining table, shaking his head before taking off his hat and leaning his elbows on his knees.

"Oh my god, I thought I was crazy..." He says, his voice cracking with nerves as he presses his palms into his eye sockets.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"I had a feeling all fucking week," he says, his voice still shaky, and my brows knit together.

"I knew something was up. You were acting different. You were moodier than usual, you were napping all the time—and you never nap... and your tits are huge," he adds, and I roll my eyes.

"Sorry, that’s beside the point," he continues quickly, "I just couldn’t shake the feeling that you could be... I think I was trying to convince myself you weren't, but then you were so sick before I left," he rambles, staring blankly at the wall.

"It's a lot to take in, I know." I swallow thickly as I watch him process everything.

"You're pregnant," he says finally, looking at me again, this time with tears brimming his eyes. "And you were dealing with all of this by yourself," His voice is low and I shake my head, moving to stand between his legs, cupping his face gently.

"Hey, no. None of that... How could you have known?" I shush him and pull his head towards my chest.

His hands rest behind my thighs, his thumb lightly stroking my right leg. I run my fingers through his hair, comforting him as much as he's comforting me.

"I've been so scared to tell you..." I confess softly and he pulls back slightly, looking up at me with his brows furrowed.

"I know this wasn't part of our plan...at least not for a while. But before I took a test, the night my grandma passed, I had a dream. I was here, in my grandmother's garden... and she told me I was pregnant. Matt, the feeling I had," I pause, struggling to find the right words.

"It was the most intense, pure form of happiness I've ever felt. I can't even describe it to you..." I trail off.

I shake my head, "I know, I sound crazy. But I think this was meant to happen." I whisper, heat creeping up my neck at the admission.

He’s silent for a moment, absorbing my words. Then, a slow smirk carves a crease into the side of his mouth. "You are fucking crazy…" he murmurs, his playful tone breaking the tension as his smile lines deepen.

I huff a breathy laugh, the sound catching in my throat as my emotions take over again. Tears blur my vision, and I can’t hold them back any longer.

"Are you mad?" I squeak, letting my fear slip through the dam I built up.

He's immediately shaking his head, his eyes widen with sincerity, "Mad? Of course not. I mean, I thought we'd maybe get a cat first but..." He says, quirking his lip and I can't help the laugh that escapes through a sob.

I was the definition of an emotional wreck.

He gently squeezes my hips as I tip my head back to collect myself.

"Look at me," he says firmly, and I sniffle and hiccup before forcing myself to look at him. "Am I surprised? Yes. Terrified? Definitely. But, not even close to mad."

He wipes my tears tenderly, "We're going to be okay. Take it easy, alright? Deep breaths," His tone gentle but assertive, dragging me out of the pit of my dark thoughts.

I sigh as his thumbs draw circles on the exposed skin on my hips.

"I'm sorry," I say and he pulls me to sit sideways on his lap this time.

"Why are you sorry?" he asks softly, intertwining our fingers and bringing my hand to his mouth for a kiss.

"Our lives are going to change and I feel like it's my fault,"

"C'mere," He pulls me in fully, wrapping his arms around my waist. "I love you, and we're going to get through this... We were gonna do it anyway; we're just getting a headstart, yeah? Everything is going to work out," He tells me softly and I can tell he means every word.

Matt never says anything he doesn't mean.

"Also, don't say stupid shit like this is your fault. Last time I checked, it takes two to tango," He says firmly, lightly slapping my hip.

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat as I lean into him completely, resting my head on his shoulder. His hand rubs gentle circles on my back, and I close my eyes, letting myself soak in the comfort of his presence.

"I missed you so much," I whisper, my voice muffled against his shirt. "I've been so sick, this kid might be trying to kill me," I try to joke, and he breathes a laugh into my shoulder.

A few beats of silence pass, broken only by the distant sound of crickets outside and the occasional creak of the old house settling.

"We're having a kid," He speaks up, realization laced in his voice and I hum against him. "Maybe we're both fucking crazy,"

I stifle a laugh and pull back to look at him, "D'wanna see it?" I ask, getting up from his lap and he looks to my stomach with a raised brow.

"Kid, you're not showing yet," he says, leaning back into the chair with his arms crossed, a playful smirk on his face and I roll my eyes.

"No, the ultrasound. Hold on," I say as I head to the counter to grab the pictures from my bag.

I pull out the strip of photos, and when I turn back, I see Matt standing up and stretching. He takes off his sweatshirt and his shirt riding up slightly, exposing a sliver of his stomach. Heat rises to my face but I can't stare too long though because he's walking towards me to look over my shoulder.

"Okay, what am I lookin' at?" He stands behind me, his hands on his hips as his head tilts in concentration.

"You see this black circle here?" I point to the sonogram, and he leans in closer, his breath warm against my neck as he grabs hold of the paper to steady it.

"Yeah, that's it?" He asks, narrowing his eyes and I giggle.

"No, do you see the tinier white blob inside it? That's the baby." I explain and his face scrunches for a second, looking at the picture again.

"No fucking way," he says in disbelief, a wide smile breaking across his face. "That tiny thing?" His voice raises a pitch as he looks at me, eyes wide with awe, "Can barely fucking see that," He says playfully before rubbing his eyes.

"Mhm," I can't help but giggle as he wraps an arm around me, pulling me in and placing a kiss to my temple. "Just wait til you hear it, the heartbeat was insane. It was so fast," I add and he freezes.

The realization in his face settles in even deeper as I tell him that, his soft smile returning.

"You heard the heartbeat?" He whispers, looking between my eyes and I nod.

"Yeah, yesterday. They emailed me the video of it, I'll show you in a bit if you want," I tell him and he kisses me then like he can't help himself.

"That's fucking nuts... do you feel pregnant?" he asks, his voice curious and his eyes slowly lowering to my stomach peaking out of my tank top.

I shake my head, "Not at all. I just feel like shit... and constantly bloated," I admit, laughing softly.

He lightly chuckles himself, a charmed smile on his face as he reaches to rubs my stomach a couple times.

"We're really gonna have to lock in, kid." He moves around me to pull me into a full hug, pressing our stomachs together.

"Okay, gamer, acting like this is a video game..." I scoff teasingly and he bends down, laughing into my neck.

"Well, what else do you want me to say? We're leveling up..." he continues the joke and I jab his side with my finger.

"Ow," he fake-cries, clutching his side with exaggerated pain before breaking into a fit of giggles.

"Stop saying corny shit, you goof," I warn, though his laughter makes it impossible not to smile.

I bury my face in his chest, my ear pressed against his heart as we settle into a comfortable silence.

"Now we really gotta get our own place," He says and I can hear his smirk.

"I don't know…" I shrug slightly, considering. "Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to stick around for a bit. It might be nice to have the extra help before we go completely on our own."

He pulls back slightly to look at me, tilting his head with an inquisitive expression. "You really think my brothers will be any help? They don’t know anything about babies."

I snort. “Probably not, but neither do we." I reason and his mouth shrugs in defeat.

"Good point... I guess we can wait it out, we're not in a rush. It'll definitely give us more time to research where would want to be somewhat permanently," He points out.

I hum into him and try not stress about that. The reality is we'd be putting ourselves in a tough spot—both our families are here on the East Coast, but our jobs and lives are rooted in LA.

It's easy to go back and forth when it was just us, but now we're gonna have a kid.

"I already hear your mind racing," his voice breaks me out of my thoughts as he rubs my back. "Don't worry, we'll figure it out..." he says softly, and I sigh deeply.

My stomach turns when I get a whiff of the food still laid out on the table.

"Matt," I say, pulling back slowly, holding my stomach.

"Mm?" he hums, looking at me with concern as I put my hand over my mouth.

"The smell of those burgers is making me sick now," I try not to laugh, and he shakes his head, immediately tossing all the trash into the large paper bag it came in.

"Alright, where's the incinerator?"

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo x reader #dad!matt #sturniolohouse

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leeloooonfire · 4 months ago

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based on this post about Steve's internalized bi-phobia:

Steve has known for years.

And how could he not when Tommy's freckles come back tenfold each spring like a flower peaking it's head through the last layer of snow? Or when Matthew Carver's hair have a reddish brown tone that turns blond after they spent the last days before summer break practising outside and remind Steve of liquid gold? Or when he watches Star Wars and Harrison Ford, rugged and witty, comes into view and twists his stomach in knots? How could he not know?!

Steve knows he finds guys as attractive as girls, known for many, many years. But.

But he can't. Not when Tommy sneers at that boy in their literature class who likes flamboyant clothes and wants to be an actor on Broadway. Not when the people they meet in Indi who are like Robin and Eddie 'fully queer' and talk about people like Steve as if they're traitors and scams. Not when he reads the newspaper and is assaulted by Reagan and his folk preaching about the 'fag pandemic' or how his father nods in approval and mutters 'another sinner gone for good' when the news play on TV and they occasionally mention the crisis that kills people like Robin and Eddie and him.

Like him....

It doesn't matter how much he loves sleeping with his nose pressed against Eddie's collarbone or that he thinks he'd like to kiss Eddie and hold his hands and wake up beside him until they're old and wrinkly and complain about bad knees.

He is, but he cannot be a queer, half a fairy '50% like me, 50% like Eddie' as Robin jokes.

He will not be a bisexual, he can keep it inside, keep it hidden, buried deep inside him no matter how much it pains him. He can be the straight friend who goes to pride and bakes rainbow cakes and marries a woman even though his heart screams in an ear ringing cacophony, 'Eddie, Eddie Eddie Eddie!'

This is how his 20s go: loud and hurting and yearning and hiding and more noticeably being disgusted and ashamed of himself for simply being able to love men the way he can love women.

He's 29 when his wife, Becky, leaves him. It's not just Eddie and this shameful secret that weights heavy on their relationship, but the scars and all the other secrets he is unable to explain to her that drive Becky finally away - back to Boston. She leaves him alone in that tiny house they bought three years ago with their Saint Bernard puppy they lovingly named Bernadette.

He's 30 when he goes to a coffee meeting of the bisexual group meeting in Chicago, nearly turning the car multiple times, hands and knees sweaty with fear that they won't want him there. They do want him there, welcome him with open arms, and talk about things Steve knows all too well: 'When I fell in love with the first girl, I ran. I like men just fine, so I hid my crush. It's just easier, when your parents hate gays, when the world is shaming our community, when we're dying.' He finds a second home there, and learns - learns about queerness and bisexuality, about trans and gender non conforming people and physical attraction versus emotional attraction. He learns about his past and present and about his future, about their history and where they want to go, how they want to mold their world to fit people like them into it without the pain and the hiding.

Steve is 33 when he finally comes out to everyone dear to him. To the kids who aren't kids anymore and to Joyce and Hopper, and then his parents. this does not go well, but Steve doesn't want, doesn't need their validation anymore. He has his family, his friends, his support system who love him not regardless of his sexuality but because of it, love him because it's part of him. He comes out to Becky, too and that goes much better. they want to be friends, in the future. She's also met Gary who works the the NY Times and wants her to follow him into the big city. So Steve is looking forward how that goes, their tentative friendship.

He is 34 when Eddie comes back from his latest world tour and wants to take a break to rekindle with his uncle, to write new songs, to take a breather. It's only natural that Eddie moves into Steve's guest room and takes over his space on the couch where he cuddles Bernadette while Steve is in the kitchen and makes them grilled cheese and tomato soup for dinner.

Its even more natural when their feet meet while watching a movie and they lean into each other in the kitchen, dawn barely there, while they wait for the coffee maker to finish.

Steve's 35 when Eddie finally kisses him and he kisses back. No hurt, no shame, no guilt gnawing on him, Steve finally allows himself to be with the person he truly wants - regardless of their gender.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #eddie x steve

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megalony · 6 months ago

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Can't You Be Mine

As promised, this is my newest Evan Buckley imagine and I have a follow up planned if anyone is interested.

Let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: Evan has a great relationship with (Y/n)'s little girl, Minnie. So good, in fact, that at preschool, she starts telling everyone that her dad is a firefighter.

Enjoy.

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

A grin spread across Evan's features when he pulled up outside the preschool. He unclipped his belt and tilted his head to the right, looking across at his little 'passenger princess' as he had come to call her recently.

Minnie had a cheesy smile on her face that glistened in the sunlight, illuminating the streaks of syrup covering her lips and chin and most likely her hands too.

Her hair was tied up in a bobble with a dark red bow in the centre of her head which always acted as a beacon. Evan could always spot her when he was dropping her off or picking her up due to the bows and clips she liked to have in her hair.

"Alright, let's clean up quick."

He leaned across to fish out the pack of wipes he had in the glove box while his heart gave out an extra beat when he noticed what Minnie was doing. She had her arms pinned to her chest but her hands held out in front of her, waiting very patiently and doing her best not to touch anything. She didn't want to get syrup all over the car, especially not when Evan told her the pancakes they got on the way to school were a secret.

Of course, (Y/n) knew they would pick something up on their way, they always did. (Y/n) knew one of them would end up letting slip what they had got on their way to school and work and half the time it was Evan who let slip what they had.

He swiped the sticky golden splotches from Minnie's hands and dabbed at her mouth before he kissed her nose.

Evan loved bringing her to school but he loved to pick her up even more because then he got to see her run out into the playground and make a beeline for him. He adored seeing Minnie run over to him with her arms out and a bright smile on her face, it made his day ten times better.

"Okay," He murmured to himself, cleaning himself up too before he grabbed the rubbish and climbed out the jeep, tossing everything in the bin on his way. "Ready?"

He unclipped Minnie's belt and scooped her out of the car seat, easing her down to her feet and helping her slide her backpack over her shoulders.

He loved that he didn't even have to say anything and she would automatically reach up and take his much larger hand in her own. Her fingers squeezed into his palm and she started to sway their hands back and forth as Evan guided them across the path towards the gates.

"You picking me up today?" The four year old tilted her head back and squinted in the bright sun to look up at Evan.

Her toothy grin melted his heart and had him beaming a smile back down at her. He wished he was picking her up, he would pick her up every day from school if he could, but he was going to work in ten minutes and he would be on a double shift. He wouldn't be finished until tomorrow morning so he wasn't going to see Minnie until tomorrow afternoon when she came home from school.

"Not today, mouse. Your mum's gonna pick you up, but I'll pick you up tomorrow if you want."

The nickname rolled off the tongue without Evan needing to think about it. He had come accustomed to calling her mouse, after Minnie Mouse, and he knew if he ever called her by her name, she thought she was in trouble because she was so used to petnames from Evan.

The four year old had attached herself to Evan from the moment they met and he couldn't of been happier.

Evan had been a little bit apprehensive going into a relationship with (Y/n) because all the other girls he'd dated had never had kids. He loved kids, he was a natural at looking after kids, but this was new territory for Evan. He had been worried that Minnie wouldn't want him around.

With (Y/n) being a single mum, Minnie wasn't used to her mum having a boyfriend or having a father figure around and Evan worried that she wouldn't want him being that father figure in her life.

She took them both by surprise. If Evan didn't pick her up from school she would pout and wobble her lower lip. If he wasn't round to have tea with them or if he couldn't put her to bed, she would stomp her foot and have a tantrum. If she thought (Y/n) was getting more attention she would get grumpy and if (Y/n) got a kiss, Minnie would pout and wait until Evan kissed her too.

And she had easily wormed her way into Evan's heart. He was forever telling the team about her and had dozens of photos of both his girls on his phone.

His favourite was the one of Minnie trying to wear his uniform. She had found his uniform when she and (Y/n) came over for dinner at the loft. Safe to say, Evan found her wearing his boots and his shirt that drowned her frame and he had to take a picture.

"Okay," Minnie leaned her head against Evan's leg, itching her temple against the scratchy material of his starched trousers.

Evan slowed down when they approached the gates, but he knew their routine by now. He didn't necessarily have to walk Minnie through the gates, her classroom was ten feet in front of the gates next to the playground. He could stand at the gates and see her safely into class.

But that never happened. Every time he dropped her off, Minnie would walk him through the gates like she was the adult safely escorting him to school. Only when they were right near the classroom door would she let go of his hand and say goodbye.

He let her drag him through the gates, smiling happily as the little girl led him towards the playground. They were a few minutes early today and her class was out in the play area, all milling about and burning off energy until the teacher would call them inside.

"Okay now I won't see you until tomorrow. Try not to miss me too much," He crouched down in front of her, letting go of her hand so he could hold her sides instead.

The whine she let out made his smile dampen but at least she didn't cry. She pushed forward and looped her arms around his neck, leaning against his chest for a hug.

"Bye bye." She broke off in a fit of giggles when Evan started to press sloppy kisses against her cheek to brighten her up.

"Bye girlie," He pressed a lasting kiss to her temple before he pushed up and headed back out the gates. He looked back over his shoulder, as always, and found Minnie waving at him with a toothy grin and creased eyes.

Minnie's shoulders sagged and her head lolled to one side as she looked around the playground.

She liked school, but she wasn't the most interactive or social child in the room. It worried (Y/n) that Minnie would rather sit on a table by herself and colour or do games on her own than with the other kids. The four year old started to panic when the teachers tried to get her to join in with everyone else. She was better with one on one where she interacted with one friend at a time otherwise she seemed to become overwhelmed and recluse herself.

She stayed watching through the fence as Evan hopped in the jeep, giving her one last wave before he pulled away. When he was gone, her lips pressed into a big pout and she turned around.

Her beady eyes landed on Amber, one of the girls in her class who she felt more comfortable sitting and talking to.

She headed over towards Amber and flopped down on her bum next to her as Amber was doodling on the pavement with chalk. There was another boy from their class, Miles, sat chalking the floor and Tina was stood kicking at the stones, waiting to head inside.

For a few moments, Minnie sat quiet as the mouse she was named after and listened to the conversations floating around. Her hands tapped against her thighs and her head tilted to one side as she tried to keep up.

"My daddy builds things, like big buildings. He goes in big crane machines." Amber didn't look away from whatever creation she was doodling, but she moved her hands out at her sides to emphasise how big the machines were that her dad operated.

"My dad fixes things, like trains." Miles dropped the blue chalk he was holding, now bored of doing this. He wanted to go inside.

"What does your dad do?"

Minnie's lips formed another pout and she began bashing her hands against her legs to give herself something to do.

She didn't know.

She didn't have one. Minnie always found it strange when she started school that the other kids talked about their dads and said their dads lived with them and took them out or told them off or picked them up. It was strange because she didn't have one. All Minnie had was her mum and Evan, who (Y/n) always said was her boyfriend.

But surely, if he was her mum's boyfriend, that meant he was Minnie's dad, didn't it?

Couldn't Evan be her dad? He brought her to school and picked her up, just like Amber's dad. He took her out to the zoo with her new 'cousin Chris'. He stayed over a lot of nights and he stayed in her mum's room. He cooked and played games with Minnie, he helped her get dressed and tucked her into bed. Sometimes he would tell her off like Miles's dad, though not often because Minnie prided herself on being good.

Evan did all the things the other dads did, so that had to make him Minnie's dad. Plus, they were going to live together soon. (Y/n) and Evan had already sat Minnie down and said they were all going to live in a house together soon and they were all packing their things up, ready for when they moved next month.

"My daddy's a fireman." Minnie kept her eyes on the chalk on the floor as her tummy fluttered and her legs began to jitter.

Well, that was what Evan did and he seemed to be her dad, for all intents and purposes. And that was what Minnie wanted. She wasn't sure if her friends chose their mums or their dads or if that was how this was supposed to work, but Minnie chose Evan.

"Does he drive the big trucks?"

Her words seemed to spark Miles's interest and he stopped fidgeting to pay attention to her.

"Yeah. Daddy had the truck fall on his leg."

"No he didn't."

A deep frown set in Minnie's features. Her nose scrunched up and her brows furrowed until she could barely see and her lips curled into the biggest pout she'd ever made. Her little hands planted down on her thighs as she huffed.

"Did too! I've seen the scar, he had pins and bolts in his leg." She wasn't fibbing. She had seen Evan's legs whenever he wore shorts when he stayed with them or when he took her swimming.

On the back of his left leg, he had a massive scar going from the back of his knee right down to his foot. It was a streaky white colour and as wide as Minnie's thumb that could trace the indent it caused in his skin like the formations of a crack in the road.

She was enamoured by the small lines that streaked horizontally across his scar from the stitches and she had seen the little circular scars where he'd had pins inserted into the bone to keep it in tact. Minnie didn't quite understand why he still had his leg considering such a big truck had landed on it, but she was satisfied when Evan just told her he was very lucky.

"Wow." Miles seemed satisfied by her answer and Minnie managed to smile, her frown washing away just as the bell rang and Miss Harvey came over to usher them all inside.

***

"Are you ready?" (Y/n) let her eyes scan around the group of children all piling off the minibus, but her sight kept falling back to her daughter stood at her side.

She felt Minnie take hold of her hand and tuck herself up against her mum's leg like she wanted to blend in and hide herself away.

(Y/n) was glad she had signed up for this little fieldtrip. She dreaded to think what Minnie would be like if she wasn't here. The preschool seemed to take the kids on lots of different outings and activities and parents were encouraged to sign up as chaperones and (Y/n) was more than happy to do that. Especially since Minnie was struggling with including herself and wanting to join in.

If she wasn't here, (Y/n) had a feeling Minnie would of thrown a tantrum about going on this trip or she might have attached to one of the other mums here and not left their side.

Their group- consisting of fifteen children, three parents including (Y/n), and two teachers- all walked down the path until they were in front of the large brick building with bright red shutters and signs attached.

"And this is the fire station we're visiting today." Miss Harvey beckoned all the kids to stand close together with the parents hovering them towards the wall and away from the road.

(Y/n) looked down when she felt Minnie give a small tug on her hand, although the four year old had her eyes set on the station like it was a beacon coming out of the darkness.

"Station, like where Buck works?"

"Yep." She squeezed Minnie's hand with an encouraging smile. She had chosen not to tell Minnie where they were going or which station, when they talked this morning. It seemed safer not to in case Minnie got too overexcited or in case this trip didn't go ahead for some reason.

And (Y/n) hadn't told Evan either so it would be a surprise for both of them when they walked in.

She kept Minnie tucked into her side and also kept an eye on the other two girls who were staying close by, Amber and Tina. They seemed to want to talk and interact with Minnie, but Minnie wasn't so keen. She just wanted to stay with (Y/n) and only talk to her mum.

They all followed Miss Harvey inside and (Y/n) took a moment to look around, almost in wonder as much as the kids. She had never been in a fire station before. Despite being with Evan for a year now, she had yet to turn up here. That didn't mean she hadn't met his friends, or his 'work family' as he called them, (Y/n) had met just about everyone who was important to Evan, but actually being here made all his stories come alive.

They were all guided to a large space between two fire trucks and all the kids were kindly told to sit down on the floor in the middle of the trucks.

"Okay kids, this is Captain Nash. He's in charge here and he's going to talk to you about what they do here."

Once Miss Harvey moved to the left and motioned towards Bobby, (Y/n) moved her hands and motioned for Minnie and Amber to sit down in the third row.

A gasp tumbled past Minnie's lips and she suddenly tugged on (Y/n)'s hand before she tried to rush to the side. (Y/n) followed her line of sight while she wrapped both arms around her daughter and reeled her back into her chest to stop her from running off.

"Baby, come on we need to sit down-"

"Buck! It's Buck." She wriggled from left to right, doing her best to get out of her mother's arms but it didn't work. (Y/n) sat her down and knelt behind her, keeping hold of her like they were just having a cuddle when really, she was preventing her daughter from running around the station like the Tazmanian Devil.

"You can see him after the Captain's talked to everyone," (Y/n) hushed in her ear, wincing when Minnie all but huffed and crossed her arms.

But she stayed seated on the floor, pressing her chin into her chest while she tried to focus on what the Captain was saying. It was hard. Minnie couldn't concentrate despite his soft voice and his warm smile. She wanted to go and see Buck.

Evan tossed the cleaning rag over his shoulder and stepped away from the ambulance when he heard the ruckus. That meant the kids were here.

It wasn't often that they got schools coming by to visit the station, it was normally them turning up at schools to give safety talks and lectures. He figured this was better for the kids. Out of their usual environment, somewhere new to look around and explore and this way, they got to see the trucks and the ambulance and see what it looked like inside a real station.

He crossed one leg over the other and leant against a pillar next to Eddie who was stood with his hands in his pockets and a soft smile on his face.

Once Eddie turned and noticed who it was behind him, he grinned and lightly jabbed his elbow into Evan's chest before pointing towards the group of kids all sat on the floor.

"You never said it was Minnie's class coming in today."

"What?" Evan pushed up off the pillar, standing back on his feet properly as his shoulders straightened and his back clicked into place.

Minnie's class? She was here? (Y/n) never mentioned it. She never said Minnie was going on a trip today, or that it would be a trip to his very own station. Come to think of it, Minnie hadn't said anything either and if Evan knew her like he thought he did, he knew that she would of been screaming in his ear that she was going to come and visit him today. He would of been waiting by the door if he knew.

His eyes scoured the three rows of preschool kids all sat quietly, barely any of them moving, all enamoured by Bobby's speech and how he was beginning to point and describe the anatomy of the trucks.

Sure enough, Evan's beady eyes landed on not only Minnie but (Y/n) as well. They were knelt in the back row on the end and Minnie was leaning back into (Y/n) like she was desperate to wriggle out of her mum's hold and run around the station.

"I didn't know," Evan whispered softly, barely turning his head in Eddie's direction because he couldn't look away from his girls.

The moment Minnie looked in his direction and realised he was looking at her, her whole face lit up. She smiled and her eyes shone like stars and she started to wriggle again. She sat up straight and squared her shoulders, moving to wave frantically in his direction until a grin broke out on Evan's face and he silently waved back.

Evan's original plan had been to hang somewhere out the way and then come down when Bobby had finished his speech. He had it in mind that he would come down and interact with the kids for a bit and then see them off. But now he knew Minnie was here, he couldn't find it in himself to disappear.

He stood next to Eddie, both of them only half listening to Bobby. Evan began to tap his foot, suddenly impatient for Bobby to finish so he could go over and talk to his girls.

Bobby couldn't have finished a moment too soon but he waved Hen over to have a quick chat to the group since she was a medic as well as a firefighter.

(Y/n) took that as her moment. She leaned forward and kissed Minnie's cheek, whispering in her ear quietly. "Let me go talk to Buck, then when Hen's finished, he's all yours. Okay?"

Minnie bubbled up excitedly and nodded, but she wouldn't look away from Hen just yet. Now she was interested just before the speeches were going to end.

Moving her hands to her knees, (Y/n) slowly pushed up from the floor that had turned her legs to jelly and made her knees harden like stone. She could feel her back clicking into place once she was up and she took a glance around the group before she moved towards Evan. Miss Harvey was stood near Bobby and the other two parents were stood off to one side, murmuring and smiling with Chimney. It would be fine for (Y/n) to talk to Evan, she would still be within close range of the kids in case they needed her.

(Y/n) ran her hand through her hair and moved over towards Evan who took a few steps away from Eddie to meet her at the side of the truck.

She noticed his eyes do a quick sweep around the station, making sure no one else - or the kids- were watching before he looped his arms around her waist and reeled her into his chest.

He ducked his head down and stole a kiss from her lips before she had chance to panic and look around as if they were teens trying not to get caught in school. His lips tasted like cherry cola and his fingers felt heavenly, squeezing into her hips while his chest leaned down into hers like he was trying to tilt (Y/n) backwards or lay her down on the floor.

She brought her hands up to cup the sides of his neck, smoothing her thumbs up and down behind his ears until he was shivering.

Their temples pressed together when they parted and the grin that lit up his face made Evan look like one of the school kids. A quiet "Hi," whispered from his lips into hers and he nudged the end of his nose along hers until (Y/n) was smiling and shaking her head.

"You didn't tell me you were coming here."

"It was a surprise."

"Well colour me surprised… I bet you didn't tell Minnie either, did you?" The hint of a smirk pulled at his lips while he let go of her hips so he could loop his arms fully around her waist and tug her closer until every ridge of her body was pressed up against him.

"Course I didn't, she'd of been screaming your name all day if I told her." As much as (Y/n) loved her daughter's enthusiasm, she didn't think everyone would appreciate Minnie's hyperness if she knew they were coming to see Evan.

The four year old would have been bouncing off the walls, telling everyone and proudly shouting Evan's name until they got here. At least this way both she and Evan got a lovely surprise and it stopped Minnie from getting worked up like a sugar rush.

"Well, I'm glad you're all at our station. I'll show you round in a bit." He leaned forward and pecked her temple, smiling to himself when (Y/n) buried her head beneath his chin and kissed his neck causing a shiver to roll down his spine.

He kept her burrowed away into his chest for a few more seconds, savouring the moment until he noticed Hen had finished her talk and the kids were starting to get up.

He knew Minnie would be heading their way any second now and then Evan would happily show her and a few of the kids around and answer any of their strange questions. He let his arms loosen around (Y/n) just enough for her to spin around in his hold so her back was snuggled into his chest and both of them were looking at the kids.

Minnie was stood with two other kids while the rest of them split up into groups and followed after Hen or Bobby.

Her hands began to itch at her sides and she couldn't stop herself from smiling when she looked over towards her mum and Evan. He was here. This was where he worked. This was the fire truck he drove and maybe the one that landed on his leg too. This was his other home that he was always telling her about.

"Is that your dad, the fireman?" Amber kept her chin tilted down and feebly pointed towards Evan. She had seen him with Minnie at school a few times, and Minnie did tell them last week that her dad was a fireman.

A beaming smile lit up Minnie's face as a rush of adrenaline flooded her stomach and she began to fidget from foot to foot. She nodded and pointed over at Evan which caught his attention and made him smile in her direction. And he watched as Minnie trotted towards him, both Amber and Miles in tow behind her.

"Yeah. That's my daddy."

Evan couldn't breathe.

All the air in his lungs suddenly evaporated; his lungs turned into balloons which popped and shrivelled up in his chest. His jaw hung open and his lips became dryer than the desert, but he couldn't find anything to say.

Minnie had never called him that before. When they first met, she used to call him Mister quite a lot, then when they became closer, she started calling him Buck. Even though she heard (Y/n) call him Evan, she never tried to call him that, it had always been Buck so far. She had never called him dad before or pointed him out and named him her dad to other people.

But what else could he be? What else could she call him when she saw him almost every day? He took her to school, he picked her up when she fell over, he tucked her in bed and took her out and went to the doctors with her and (Y/n). He introduced her to everyone as his 'little mouse' or 'my girl'.

And just a few weeks ago after Minnie commented that he was always telling (Y/n) that he loved her, he started to tell Minnie he loved her too. He never wanted to say that before in case it upset her or made her feel uneasy but just seeing her face light up when he told her, meant the whole world to Evan.

"My turn." Minnie held her arms out towards Evan, suddenly breaking him out of his trance.

He realised he was shaking when he unravelled his arms from (Y/n) who looked like she was on the verge of tears. Her hand moved to his shoulder while he leaned down and scooped Minnie up so he could cuddle her into his chest.

Her arms looped around his neck and Evan breathlessly kissed her cheek while he did his best to ward off the burning sensation behind his eyes that were threatening to spill tears. God, he hoped Minnie wasn't just saying this because her friends were nearby. He hoped that when he got home from work tonight, she would still call him that.

He hoped tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after, that Minnie was still going to call him her dad. He hoped she would introduce him to everyone as her dad. He could just see himself telling people he had a little girl, he could imagine showing the guys her picture and proudly saying that was his daughter.

"Hi, are you being good, little mouse?" He kissed her cheek again when she wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled in close to him as she nodded and hummed.

His eyes darted from Minnie to (Y/n) when he suddenly realised that maybe, (Y/n) might not be happy about this sudden revelation.

Evan remembered the conversation they had not long after they started dating. He remembered every word of that chilling conversation where (Y/n) told him about Minnie's biological dad. Minnie had never met him, he didn't even know she existed.

Minnie had been the reason (Y/n) got out of her abusive relationship with her ex. She managed to get away from him and moved in with her sister until she found a place of her own. And Evan remembered everything (Y/n) told him about what her ex had done. There was no way (Y/n) could stay with him if she had Minnie and to protect Minnie, (Y/n) hadn't named anyone in the father's section on her birth certificate.

It suddenly occurred to Evan that maybe (Y/n) wouldn't be happy about this. Maybe she wouldn't want Minnie to have a dad or call someone her dad. But Minnie had never known her dad, she had grown up thinking she just didn't have one and that had been fine until Evan walked into their lives and changed their perspectives.

But the way (Y/n) smiled and the single tear that rolled down her face told Evan she wasn't displeased at all. She was thrilled.

She stood close to Amber and Miles in case they had any questions or wanted to go and take a look around. But Miles took a step forward towards Evan and gingerly tugged on his trouser leg to gain his attention.

"Did a truck really land on your leg?"

Surprise flooded Evan's eyes and his jaw hung loose again while he tried to think how to respond to that. But all that came to mind was the fact that clearly, Minnie had been talking about him. She had been telling her friends what Evan did for a living and about his accident. Clearly she loved him enough to want to brag about him and talk about him to her class. and that thought melted Evan's heart.

Evan looked between Minnie who had her cheek pressed into his shoulder, and the young boy who was staring at both his legs intently. He looked like he wanted to pull on Evan's trousers and peek beneath them at his legs. And Evan would bet that the young boy thought Evan might have some kind of prosthetic.

"Uh, yeah, yeah it did." He nodded and leaned backwards a little so Minnie could rest better against his chest.

"Wow. So- so you're like superman?"

"Well, not qui-"

"Yeah he is! Show him your leg, daddy." Minnie wriggled around in his arms, shimmying down his chest a little until she could grab at the waistband of his trousers.

For a dreaded second, Evan thought she was going to undo his belt and try to pull his pants down to show his scar. But she only tugged on his pant leg to get him to take the hint. She wanted him to pull the pant leg up so he could show Miles his scars.

Evan rolled his lips together to supress a smile and juggled Minnie in his right arm so that he could scrunch his trouser leg up in his other hand. He pulled it up towards his knee, showing just enough of his tattered, scarred leg to make Miles gasp and grin like he'd seen one of the seven wonders of the world.

The young boy simply stared at Evan's leg, unable to look away even when Evan rolled down his trouser leg again.

He carefully leaned forward and planted Minnie back down on her feet, but when she clutched his hand and held it to her chest, he smiled. He stayed slightly stooped over so she could keep hold of him while (Y/n) looked between Miles and Amber.

"Alright, who wants to look round the fire trucks?"

When the pair of them nodded, (Y/n) guided them over towards Miss Harvey and Bobby who were with five other kids looking round the first fire truck. She noticed Hen guide the other half of the class towards the ambulance to let them take a look around and show them what each appliance and equipment piece was.

Once the pair of them were back with the group, following Bobby's lead like he had put them all under a trance, (Y/n) slowly headed back over to Evan and Minnie. Her hands moved up and down her sides to try and remain calm, but she didn't know what to do with herself.

Minnie had never asked about her dad before, and (Y/n) had always been grateful. She was always relieved her daughter never wondered why she didn't seem to have a father figure or why she didn't have a dad to come and visit her and take her out like other kids. She seemed content just to have (Y/n).

And she had been so happy that Minnie took to Evan so easily and attached herself to him. But somehow, (Y/n) still didn't think that Minnie would want to call Evan her dad, not yet anyway.

She smiled as she approached them and crouched down in front of Minnie who was still clinging to Evan's hand that she seemed to have confiscated and pinned to her chest.

Her hands reached out to hold Minnie's waist and tug her closer while Evan shimmied his hand out of her hold so he could rest his hand on her back instead.

"So… you, you've got a new name for Buck?" When Minnie didn't answer, Evan crouched down beside her so they were all level.

"You've never called me that before, mouse."

The way she looked down at her shoes made Evan's heart flip. She looked so sweet, so innocent and worried as if she thought she might have done something wrong by calling him her dad. It would never be something bad in their eyes, but both (Y/n) and Evan would have thought they would of gotten some warning first. Which made them wonder why Minnie had suddenly come out with it today of all days.

"Everyone was talking about their dads, so… so can't you be mine?" Minnie shifted a little so she could go back to holding Evan's hand and she started to sway it back and forth between them like their hands were some kind of swing or a toy to be entertained.

For a few seconds, Evan focused on controlling his breathing so he didn't go into a fluttering panic. And he looked to the left, locking his eyes on (Y/n) so he could gauge her face for a reaction.

This wasn't his question to answer, it was hers. He couldn't overstep the mark or set the boundaries, it had to be (Y/n)'s choice no matter how thrilled Evan was that Minnie clearly wanted this.

When (Y/n) nodded, Evan felt like his heart had exploded in his chest and a tingling sensation shot through his arms right down to his fingertips. He let a soft grin overtake his features and he reached out for Minnie, unhooking their hands so he could hold her sides and gently twist her in his direction.

"I'd love to."

He braced his knees and levelled his weight out in his boots when Minnie slammed into his chest and deadlocked her arms around his neck.

The sweetest smile (Y/n)had ever seen fluttered across Evan's lips and she couldn't help but lean forward to kiss that smile and see if it was as sweet and sugary as it looked. She smoothed her hand up and down his shoulder before she glanced over to the left when she heard Miss Harvey switching the groups around. They wouldn't be here for much longer before they all would be getting ready to leave.

"Let's go take a look at the trucks then, baby, let dad get back to work." It felt strange to say but somehow, it rolled off the tongue like magic.

"Off you go, I'll see you when I finish work tonight, okay?" Evan pecked her cheek when she finally untangled herself from him and he couldn't help but kiss her temple too as he pushed up to stand tall once again. He murmured a soft "See you soon," in (Y/n)'s ear, dancing his fingertips along her hip while he kissed her quick.

"Bye daddy," Minnie cast a quick look over her shoulder, one hand tangled with (Y/n)'s and her other hand waving across to Evan as if he couldn't spot her in the small crowd.

His smile brightened and his breaths came out shaky as he waved back at her, his other hand tucked into his pocket while he leaned back against the pillar.

Their fire house had been taken off all calls for two hours, dispatch was redirecting all calls to the nearby stations so no calls came through and disrupted the school fieldtrip. That meant Evan still had a while to mill about the station and tidy up or get a drink and amuse himself until the kids left and they were allowed to take calls again.

And it felt like a good thing that they weren't going out on any calls at the moment because Evan was running on a high. Adrenaline was fueling his system and he felt like he had taken an overdose with how lightheaded he was. It felt like he was walking on cloud nine and he didn't ever want to come down from this feeling.

The smile wouldn't leave his lips and his head tilted to one side while he watched both girls head back over to the group and follow Bobby who was showing them all the different compartments and aspects of the truck.

"What's got you smiling?" Chimney brought his cup of coffee to his lips and raised a brow when he looked up at Evan. There was an unusually happy smile on his face, even for him, and it had Chimney looking round the station to try and find out what was so funny.

But he wasn't prepared for the answer as Evan slouched down against the pillar, dipping his chin towards his chest as a blush started to taint his cheeks.

"My daughter."

#911 imagine #imagine #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #buck x reader #buck imagine #bobby nash

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merthosus · 3 months ago

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Don't kiss the cast members

Summary: You never had a problem with any of the cast members of the umbrella academy, except Aidan. You two couldn't stand each other since the first time you met. You were always good at ignoring him but the directors crashed the plan, by making you the love interest of the character Five Hargreeves. But as the day came you needed to train with him everything changed.

Here a sexy poster from Five I fell in love with! With every purchase you automatically support me :) https://amzn.to/3yGK6Fm

"This.. this wasn't wrote in the script"

Chicago, 9:20 am, you were walking outside the set with a coffee in your hands. It was cold, so the warmth of the cup made your heart flutter with happiness. It was always the smallest things that made you feel pride. You looked down at your chamber red nails while walking through the security guards. You didn't need to show them your ID; they knew you. After two years of being in the show, everyone knew everyone.

You loved attending the set, being surrounded by the most varied people, but today was different. Your stomach hurt, and your hands were slightly shaking. Knowing why your body reacted like that was easy. But your determination and the wish to earn money had driven you to attend the set today. You needed to remind yourself that this was a big part of your job... doing things you didn't want to do. You needed to swallow the pill, and you should be good to go.

Your thoughts went crazy as you said hello to the makeup artist. She was tugging at you here and there, putting little needles in the top you wore. You had been an actor for a few years now, so kissing in front of a camera was not that big of a deal for you, but kissing someone you didn't like was a little bit challenging.

The story of your character was pretty simple—not being that much in the limelight, operating in the shadows of the show. She was the daughter of the Handler, stalking Number Five and looking out for him as the Handler instructed her. The depth of the character was very interesting, so playing her was really an honor, especially because it was the biggest show you had ever been allowed to be on.

"You are ready, you like it?" she asked me. I nodded and smiled. "Thank you, this is very good work, as always," I told her. This was one of your rules: to appreciate the work people do for you, always trying to be nice to everyone. As you stepped out of the container, you saw Aidan walking by. He saw you too and headed in your direction. "Hi, you ready for the rehearsal?" he asked you. To be honest, this was the only thing you liked about him—he was always professional.

"Course, where you want to rehearse?" you asked him. He told you to follow him to Set 36. You knew the set from previous film scenes. Watching the others play was also a pretty big part of your job. You didn't need to, but you liked watching them, learning from their abilities. Robert Sheehan was one of the actors you looked up to; how he acted out his character was astonishing.

As you both walked to the empty set, neither of you even tried to make small talk. Your steps were loud as you walked with him, you read the script again and tried to memorize every little word. The set was very detailed; it was Five's room. You sat down on his bed and continued to read. "You ready?" he asked me. You nodded, laid the script aside, and positioned yourself better on the bed. The scene you needed to play was simple. You get into an argument, and then you kiss him. His part was to reject you and then walk out of the room. That's it—very simple. "Alright," you said while shaking your arms to prepare.

"Go on," you said, and Aidan got into his role. "STOP IT! Stop stalking me, you crazy little shit!" he screamed and walked around the room until he came to a halt at his desk. "I... I am not stalking you!" you yelled. He leaned himself onto the desk behind him. "I saw you following me several times!" he said angrily. Just now, you noticed how his jawline was nearly perfectly shaped—he could cut papers with that thing. You didn't answer him and just stared him down. Suddenly, he jumped away from the table and walked right in front of you.

He looked down at you. This was the moment. "I just... I can't explain," you said your last line. You could feel your heart pounding, like it demanded to get out of your torso. Your hands were shaking as if you had just drunk five espressos and two Red Bulls. "Explain, or I don't want to see you ever again," he whispered. You got up from the bed and stood before him. You felt like it was the first time you ever auditioned. You were as scared of this day as you were then. Without thinking and pushing your anxiety away, you grabbed his face and smashed your lips onto his.

Although you hated him with every muscle in your body, your whole stomach filled with butterflies as your lips landed on his. He tasted bittersweet, like he had just drunk coffee, and a little bit of woodsy cologne made him taste like that too. You waited for him to push you away, like it was written in the script. He was supposed to push you back onto the bed and leave, so you prepared for the fall. But he didn't.

He began to let his puffy lips roam over yours. It felt like you were flying straight to heaven. As you began to stroke his cheek with your thumb, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You let your hand travel around his neck, pushing your fingers into his dark hair. As your fingernails scratched his scalp, he opened his mouth wider, and you let your tongue sneak into his mouth. His lips felt like cushions pressing against yours.

You gasped as he let his hand fall, landing on your butt. But as soon as his lips connected with yours again, you couldn't think anymore. His other hand continued to travel up and down your waist, exploring every inch. He pushed your abdomen further into his, causing your head to tilt back slightly. He noticed and grabbed your neck harshly, pushing your head forward as he continued to let his tongue dance in your mouth, tasting you like ice cream.

You felt every last bit of oxygen leave your body, so you pushed your head away. The sudden feeling of leaving his lips made your whole body shudder with coldness. "This... this wasn't written in the script," you said, stuttering. "Then, unfortunately, we have to do this again," he said with a wide grin on his face. "Asshole."

Thank you for reading my love :) Here leading you to part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/merthosus/759274024052375552/dont-kiss-the-cast-members-summary-you-never?source=share

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chelseeebe · 2 months ago

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wanna be yours

18+. smut. voyeurism ig? eddie, steve and reader are all freaky little fucks;) steddie x reader.

this is just something short and sweet to ease myself back into posting lol. idk if anyone read my post, but i will be going ahead with my plans for a spooky week on my blog!! i'm super excited about it!!!! i need to organise everything but when everything is finalised, i'll update you all :)⋅

───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───

eddie had known he and steve were never going to be the best of friends, that was clear from the moment he’d moved in.

donning a basketball and a polo shirt rather than a bass guitar and an amp.

when his girlfriend had started coming around, he didn’t think she liked him much either.

there wasn’t a day where you weren’t arguing or bickering over something stupid.

eddie just kept his head down, sliding his headphones over his ears instead of listening to the yelling.

he did that a lot while you were around, keeping his head low so as to not make it completely obvious that he had a serious boner for you.

he doesn’t think that steve was the type to take lightly to something like that, more likely to beat his ass than to fist bump over your appearance.

well.

maybe you’d caught him looking a few times. gormless in staring at your tight jeans or the tiny skirts you went out in. but that was all.

you’d usually smile a little, maybe even twirl to give him a better view and then flounce out of the door on steve’s arm.

but now, his eyes stay clamped shut.

he’s not stupid.

the blanket rustles in a certain way when you’re doing something you’re not supposed to be.

contrary to popular belief, eddie had had sex before. he knew about the little sighs and muffled grunts, that’s why he could tell instantly what was happening five feet away from his bed.

you whisper something to steve, too mumbled for eddie to really make it out.

“nah.. he’s asleep,” steve reassures, louder than you had been.

he wasn’t. but he doesn’t want to look now, squeezing his eyes shut tighter and attempting to control his rapid breathing.

the mattress creaks as steve pulls your body closer, his chest pressed against your back as his hand fusses with your tiny pajama shorts.

you exhale softly, signaling that this was no longer just a raunchy make out session and instead a manifestation of both his biggest dream and worst nightmare.

there’s not much you can do on a university of chicago single bed. but you were sure giving it a try.

“shit,” your voice shudders, now accompanied by the unmistakable sound of skin against skin.

eddie doesn’t mean to, honest.

but his eyes flicker, forcing themselves open to witness the x-rated scene in front of him. he can’t help it, his mind going positively crazy trying to picture what was happening.

he just needed a reference image, something to help him fall asleep.

you’re already looking back, eyelids flitting shut with every stroke of steve’s cock, your mouth hung open with wetted lips.

he can’t pull his eyes away. not with your gaze solidly meeting his, not when you were already looking at him.

your lips quirk into a smile, throwing your head back against steve’s shoulder but your eyes steady on him.

the blanket bobs up and down, consistent with the rhythm of the old squeaking mattress and steve’s low grunts. his face buried into the back of your neck, acting as a muzzle.

his hand snakes around your body, fist wrapping around your exposed neck.

eddie almost chokes on his breath, his fingers curling around his blanket. his cock was throbbing at this point, aching in his tight boxers.

fuuuck.

how is he even in this situation? he should be out partying or pulling an all-nighter in the library or maybe even meeting his very own girlfriend.

no.

he’s laid up watching his roommate fuck his girlfriend instead.

your eyes glitter in the low light, just before you pull out the big guns.

“oh fuuck steve,” breathlessly whining into the room, zero regard to the volume of your mewls.

steve hums, the hand that enveloped your neck now sliding down slowly to your tits, grabbing hungrily at the flesh.

eddie’s own hand palms at his skin, pawing pathetically at his thigh in a bid to divert some of the blood rushing to his dick, elsewhere.

steve’s pace fastens, his own moans getting louder, deeper even. his mouth sucking at the taut skin of your neck.

you weren’t trying to hide it anymore, blinking slowly as steve pounds into you. the headboard now joining in on the chorus of sounds, repetitive and loud in the otherwise quiet room.

eddie’s cock twitches, forcing a strangled huff from his throat. he needed to touch you, badly. fingernails leaving half-moon markings in his thigh, counteracting the gnawing ache settling in his cock.

what steve does next very nearly sends eddie to fucking mars.

his hand leaves your chest, sliding back up your neck, his middle and fore finger circle your glossy lips before sliding slowly into your mouth.

holy fucking shit.

“just like that, honey,” steve coos, his lips cock to the side.

he’s known this entire time.

eyes peering out from over your neck, watching eddie watch you and your performance.

eddie’s eyes flicker between the two of you, unsure of where to settle.

this all felt so strangely intimate, like he should get up and go join the two of you. he would, of course, if that were even an option.

to steve, this was probably some weird power play. a real, dirty kink, maybe. he’d hold this over eddie for the rest of the year, goading and taunting him about the time he watched him fuck his girlfriend.

but you, he can’t figure out.

you were looking at him first.

that had to mean something.

you draw him out of his thoughts with a thick, raspy moan, stifled by steve’s fingers still between your lips.

“c’mon baby,” steve groans, averting his eyes back to you, “you gonna cum? give it to me princess,” his thrusts becoming more sporadic as he obviously nears his own orgasm.

your eyes close fully now, leaving eddie to watch on his own. squeaking out intoxicating mewls with every stroke, every slap of skin.

your body goes limp in steve’s hold, “ohh shit- don’t stop, please.. please don’t stop,” desperate pleas turning to whimpers as steve comes to his own climax.

throaty gasps for air mix with your whining words, frazzling eddie’s poor, hopeless brain for the rest of his inadequate life.

his dick hurts, straining in his hole-y boxers, begging to be touched. he’ll have to tiptoe out to the bathroom once he’s sure you’re asleep. not that it even matters now.

eddie can’t help but let his mind wander, had he cum in you? was it dripping out of your pussy?

he’s disgusted with himself for even going there.

steve sighs, placing a lazy kiss to the back of your neck, glancing at eddie one last time before embracing sleep and letting his eyes flutter shut.

it takes longer for you to come back down to earth, still reeling from your orgasm when your hazy gaze meets his again.

there’s something different about your eyes, something that was missing from steve’s. the warmness, the friendly crinkle that sat on the corner. he’s not sure but it makes his heart thud even faster.

you blink a couple times before turning over and nestling into steve’s chest.

eddie’s left reeling.

a churning in his stomach that he’s not sure he’ll ever be rid of.

he waits until your breathing slows completely and steve starts snoring before padding out of the room, an obvious tent in his boxers and a dying urge to make it disappear.

life wouldn’t ever be the same again.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington smut #eddie munson smut #steddie x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #eddie munson x reader

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qlossytbh · 8 months ago

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im so FUCKING stupid and i accidentally forgot to add tags and i deleted the anon request this fic was inspired from so i will paste it here

“Could you please write one about having a team night round Rossi's but you and Spencer had had an argument before so it was tense between the pair of you so you try and flirt with one of the out of town agents to try and get his attention?”

𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧- 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 you and Spencer don’t usually get along due to your constant fights to prove who was better. But when the two of you are paired on a case together, hidden feelings start to arise towards the surface.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 enemies to lovers type beat (?), academic rivals (?), fem!reader, typical criminal minds content, jealous spence, mentions of a guy that gets a little too handsy

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 4.6k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i get a little carried away with request oops. i don’t think this is exactly what you were asking for but

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had come to no one's attention that you and Spencer were fighting— again..

The BAU team was currently hunting down a murderer that was attacking teenagers at a local campus in the city of Chicago, and all that Reid seemed to be doing these past few days was getting on your nerves.

Wether it was searching the crime scene, analyzing the possible behavioral patterns of the UnSub, or setting down a profile, you and Reid could not stop bickering, driven solely off the desperation of beating each other with whoever could piss the other off more.

You thought Spencer had this aggravatingly, annoying need to prove he was always so much smarter than everyone else, using his wide variety of big intellectual words just to show off.

He, on the other hand, truly couldn't stand how you'd always butt into every conversation you deemed necessary attempting to seem smarter just to get yourself on top of a case. Your ego had been Spencer's main problem across these past few months, but it was slowly driving him off the wall and he found that with each passing day, he was finding it harder to work with you.

The initial conflict seemed irrelevant right now— something about Spencer purposely embarrassing you in front of the the team back when you had just started out in the BAU. Even if it was unintentional, the anger stuck.

You had been so embarrassed, feeling your insides pool with irritation as you questioned why he felt the necessity to correct you so publicly— in front of people you still didn't know.

With time, it slowly morphed into a constant competition to prove who was smarter, quicker on their feet, more widely intellectual than the other, always finding ways to one up each other in conversations— anything.

You were smart and you couldn’t blame him for seeing you as a competition the second you stepped foot into the BAU.

The rest of the team was growing sick of the two of you always whining and bickering. It could be the smallest, stupidest fights— or something so weighty, the two of you wouldn’t speak for days.

However, the two of you got into a fight yesterday when landing in Chicago.

It had been stupid

It started when you "accidentally" slammed the taxi door in his face, genuinely not realizing he was getting out of the cab on the same side you were, even though a side of you thought he deserved much more than a slammed door to the face.

Later on in the day a heavier argument spewed, given since he accused you of being ‘unprofessional’, which had incredibly pissed you off. It was the one thing that truly got to you, and Spencer knew this.

Since then, none of you had spoken to each other and the rest of the team could practically feel the tension. Hotch rounded the table, pressing his hands together.

"So, let's lay it all out," Hotch announced. "Who's starting?”

You and Spencer both volunteered simultaneously. You shot a glare in his direction, which he easily disregarded as he stood from his seat at the table

"So far, we know were looking for a male between the age of 20-25," You cross your arms across your chest and look over at the board with a huff, accepting your defeat.

Your eyes scanned through the evidence and pictures at hand. While Spencer continued his analysis, hands shoved deep into his pockets, you squinted at the words scribbled onto the case file. "The killer seems to have a target preference given how all four victims have been female college students between the ages of 18-24"

"So, do we know which kind of killer were dealing with here?" Morgan asked, flipping through the case files.

"If I'm not mistaken, the last victim presented a alteration in the Unsub’s M.O in comparison to what we've been observing so far, which could ultimately mean we could be dealing with a disorganized offender acting out on—" He stated, turning towards the board, but when your eye caught a part of information in the file, you were quick to interrupt.

"Actually, you are mistaken," You reached over, grabbing the file in front of you in one swift movement and flipped the page as you stood to your feet. Spencer froze and turned towards you.

"Excuse me?" He inquired, clearly unamused at your antics. You briefly looked up at him, only sparing him a brief glance.

"You're wrong. The Unsub isn't disorganized," You jutted your chin towards the board. "We're actually dealing with an organized offender."

Morgan glanced over at JJ, quietly cursing to himself knowing that this was probably payback and not heading in any favorable direction.

"Sure, this specific victim wasn't as calculated and precise as the other," You started. "Up until now, the Unsub seemed to be killing all of these girls with long, tedious methods, such as torturing them, which clearly shows us he feels no remorse and actually finds pleassure out of killing them. Organized crimes are premeditated and carefully planned, so that would explain why we found little to no evidence at the scene yesterday and organized criminals, according to the classification scheme, can tell right from wrong—"

"—But our buddy here doesn't care," Morgan finished off, looking up at you. With a nod, you continued

"Precisely. The pattern of our victims also leads us to believe that he's seeaking some sort of revenge on the girls, since they're all from the same background." You pointed to a few post-it notes on the board. "Right here it says that all four girls belonged to the same frat house on campus—"

"Yet our recent victim did not," Spencer butted in with a shurg, facing you smugly. With an unamused glance, you took two warning steps towards him, maintaining your composure.

"Well, Dr. Reid, if you read the autopsy report you'd see that the newest victim died from a blunt force to the head," Annoyed was an understatement as to what you were feeling towards him at that precise moment. Your eyes narrowed while you managed to keep on the most innocent smile you could. "That means that the attack was out of some unplanned rage, which caused him to lashout and therefore break his regime."

You took one more step towards Reid, suddenly dangerously close to him. Intimidating people wasn’t something that came hard, much less with Spencer.

Something inside you fed off that vast satisfaction that arose when he'd get activated with you. Seeing his breaths go shallow, his whole posture to stiffen along with the habitual furrow in his brows felt like your daily dosis of serotonin.

"If you payed more attention to these case files, you'd also see that the newest victims was our previous victims best friend, so there still is a connection just not the one you've been blindly looking for.”

With that you slapped the files into his chest and stepped back, referring back over to the board.

Spencer gapped at you, opening his mouth before clamping it shut immediately. He fumbled, grappling at the papers on his chest and looking down at them in embarrassment. You felt yourself smile with satisfaction at how his movements became sloppy. "I— I would've said that if you let me finish my analysis and let me actually read these papers."

"Or you can just admit you're slow—"

"So!" JJ butted in, quickly cutting off whatever fight was about to implode in-front of them. "We’re looking for someone connected throughout the campus that would somehow want some sort of revenge on these girls? Correct?"

"Yes." You and Spencer stated simultaneously. You bit back a comment, swiping your tongue against your lower lip, annoyance filling every single nerve in your body while he let out a noise similar to a scoff.

"Here's the plan then," Hotch said, ignoring the two of you. "Prentiss and I will give the Chicago police force the profile. Morgan and JJ, deal with collecting possible witnesses; anyone at that campus who knows anything that may deem useful."

You stood, glancing over at Spencer. When he met your eyes you quickly looked away, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

"Reid, Y/L/N," Hotch said, finally acknowledging the two of you with a steady gaze. "You two will assigned search the crime scene to see if any evidence was left behind—just protocol checking, but we need to be sure nothing was left unseen."

You opened and closed your mouth, intending to protest about the pairing but deciding strongly otherwise.

With the intention to remain professional you nodded in agreement. As hard as you found to do so, you waited patiently for the other members of the team to draining the room until only you, Morgan, JJ, Spencer were left collecting the remaining of your things.

As Morgan was grabbing a few of his things with JJ patiently waiting by his side, you walked up to her with a devious smile. "Hey Jayj, wanna change partners?"

"I am right here." Spencer answered.

"I dont care," You shot back, causing him to angrily shove more of his files into his satchel. You turned back to Morgan, practically ready to get onto your knees and beg him for sympathy. "Please Morgan, trade with me— I'm begging you."

"We don’t get to choose who we get paired with,” He started, looking down at you unamused. Your face fell, deadpanning at your friend.

“If you're going to complain about being paired with Reid none of us wanna hear it," Morgan groaned, dragging a hand across his face. You opened your mouth to protest, but he rudely cut you off by pointing an accusitory finger at you. "The two of you have been yapping at eachother faces since we got here."

"We have not!" You both shouted in unison. You angrily turning around to face Spencer, warning him with a glare. “Stop that!"

"It's always something with the two of you," JJ shook her head in disappointment. "You're lucky you two are the smartest members on the team cause we would've had you seperated months ago,"

JJ finished grabbing her things and glared at the two of you. Morgan grabbed his things as well, before turning to you. "Either you sort out all of this sexual tension you've got going on or you keep your mouths shut and get along!"

"What!?" You gaped, taking aback by Morgan's accusations. "Thats not—We dont—"

You fumbled with your words as your cheeks grew hot. You stammered, trying to hit back with something, but inevitably found your mind blank. You huffed, snatching your bag and rushing towards the exit of the conference room "I hate you."

"No you don't princess." Morgan stated as you walked past him and shoved his arm.

"And you boy genius," Morgan said looking at Spencer and tossed her bag across her shoulder. "That goes for you too, either get laid, or shut up."

With that, they left the room leaving a sputtering and angry Spencer struggling to regain his composure after the absurdity that had left his collegues mouth. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and grabbed his final things, leaving the room in a frenzy.

You pulled the cars ignition once you pulled the car into the Campus buildings entrance. You put the car in park as you umblucked your seatbelt, which Spencer started doing not long after you had, following your suit. The ride had been completely silent, none of you wanted to speak to eachother, worrying that if you did another argument would start.

All he did during the ride was read some of the case files while you intently focused on the road. Your hands gripped tightly at the steering wheel and every once and a while you'd sneak small glances at him— not because you cared or anything, you just wanted to see how much more information he was getting ahead of you with.

The building was secluded off to the public and the entrance was swarmed with countless police officers and agents. As you climbed out of the car, you pulled your glasses onto the top of your head and slammed the door in one swift motion. By the time you got to Spencers side of the door, he was still inside slowly collecting his things, which pissed you off. You waited impatiently for him to climb out with a huff.

For what seemed to feel like forever, he finally opened the car door and started to climb out as you waited impatienly. "You look like you're doing that on purpose."

"Getting out of the car? Yeah, I am actually" He stated, finally stepping out. A snide remark came up your throat but wasn't able to leave your mouth given how Spencer towered over you once he strightened himself out.

He unintentionally stepped way too close for your personal preference, but your boundaries melted somewhere in your consciousness.

You craned your head back just slightly, allowing yourself to look into his eyes. Spencer swallowed thickly, suddenly painfully aware of how close the two of you were. An unfamiliar voice reeled the two of you back to reality. "Dr. Y/L/N?"

You practically jumped, swallowing down the urge to yelp. You stepped away from Spencer, blinking rapidly as you cleared your throat. "Uh yes!—“

"Thats, uhm, me—“ You slipped your glasses off and put them into your bag anxiously. "Dr. Y/L/N."

You turned to the Agent in front of you, who held his hand out with an irksomely pearly white smile. You gazed at the man, and you had to admit he was easy on the eyes— a little too stereotypically attractive for your taste.

"I'm Agent Mirthwood, head of the Chicago police department, Aaron Hotchner specified you'd be here to help with the case," You took his hand and shook it. "Wasnt expecting a doll like you."

Spencer didnt miss the way his eyes raked across your body, taking in every part of you with careful detail. You were wearing a silk black button up, along with a blazer that matched the skirt that hugged your skin tightly. Spencer would have to be blind to ignore how every piece of clothing you had on hugged every inch of your curves perfectly, so obviously, whoever this guy was, he was going to be staring.

How couldnt he?

You laughed nervously and Spencer, despite his profiler background, couldn't tell if it was becasue you were uncomfrotable or flattered. Either possibilities made his skin crawl.

"Charming," You noted, not really wanting to give him any more material to chew at. "So, mind leading the way?"

"Not at all." He grinned, placing his hand on your lower back and guiding you towards the building. Spencer followed behind pathetically, feeling his hands clench and his jaw tighten while he watched the guys hand linger where they didn't belong.

Once inside the building, you and Spencer looked around your surroundings, checking over a few areas of the marked numbers and rerunning the supposed series of events in your heads. "This is where the first victim tried escaping,"

You and Spencer simultaneously looked over to the glass window that had been merely cracked. "Can't believe how a murder took place and the campus director didn't even close the place down for more than five days."

"Agent Mirthwood, you said that the floor above us was where Anya Colins was murdered, correct?" You asked, looking over towards the locker. Spencer stood beside you with his hands shoved into his pocket.

"Over in classroom seven, yes” He responded. His eyes flickered towards the pop of your hip. “Call me Ben,"

You looked over your shoulder momentarily, shooting him a polite smile. Spencer bored his eyes into the side of the agents face, slyly enough so that he wouldn’t notice.

"Could it be possible that we take a look across the flooring, you know, check inside any of the clases for some clues we may have missed?" You said, lifting your chin and facing Agent Mirthwood. He smiled bumptiously at you.

"Why I'd be delighted to accompany you and help you look out for whatever it is you're looking for—"

"Actually," Spencer butted in, somewhat protectively if you let yourself assume— given how the tone of his voice had grown territorial. "Hotchner specifically implied we stick together as the pair we were assigned, and we usually work best when just the two of our heads are looking around."

You furrowed your brows, looking up at Spencer with confusion. His tone alarmed you momentarily, and at first you wanted to grow defensive because who was he to boss you around?

You took in the familiar line-out of his clenched jaw and how his shoulders broadened ever so slightly. You noticed he had chosen to stand between you and Agent Mirthwood, and suddenly it dawned you and hit you harder than a ton of bricks.

Spencer Reid was jealous.

Despite the weird feeling nagging at your chest, you couldn't contain how a smug smile began to appear onto your face. Somehow this newfound information cave you a newfound cockiness— you finally found something you knew had the upper hand on.

"Actually Ben," You dodged Spencer, making a B-line for the broad man you had only recently met. You tried looking as innocent as you possibly could, the look you always used to get men right into the corner you needed them in. "I'd actually love having your company. I'm gonna need someone watching over me up there."

Spencer froze, looking back and forth as the darkness in this guys eyes only increased and suddenly— he panicked. Spencer was panicking because he genuinely thought you were going to leave with Agent Mirthwood and he wouldn't be able to watch over you or him, or anything you did with him—

Then he saw it. The way you turned, shooting him a challenging glare over your shoulder towards him.

"You wouldn't mind, would you Dr. Reid?"

“I—“ His fists tightened as he stared at you, stunned. Something underneath his gaze was warning you that you were pushing him close to his limits and you loved it.

“One of the victims was attacked up there and then dragged herself all the way down here,” You watched the agent explain broadly.

“That must’ve been horrible,” You added an almost feather like gasp to your words. He knew damn well that you knew what this officer was saying was nothing but false due to how the crime scene was framed.

“Yeah,” Ben took a step closer to you and Spencer couldn't even stop himself when he pried through, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards him territorially.

“Bosses order. The rest of you keep looking around to see if anything looks out of place."

Spencer dragged you all the way up the stairs and into the empty hallway on the second floor. You struggled to keep up, complaining pretty vocally that your heels were screwing up your rhythm, especially in comparison to his long and hurried strides. You finally dug the palm of your foot into the ground and yanked your arm away.

"What the hell is your deal!?" You clamored, knowing you had him cornered. He turned, pushing his lips into a straight line and looking at you in complete silence.

“My deal!?" He shot back suddenly, gesturing towards you in an exasperated motion. “You barely know the man and you're willing to walk somewhere with him alone..!”

You scoffed. "Oh please, like coming up here with you is any better."

"You don't run the risk of getting potentially murdered by me." He said, trying to prove his point.

"You sure about that?"

Spencer looked at you and something shifted behind his eyes. Your face was furrowed with nothing but pure anger as you huffed widely. Spencer opened his mouth and closed it once again, hesitating whether to say what he was about to.

"You're being unprofessional." He blankly stated. Your mouth fell agape.

There was that fucking word again— You felt about ready to murder him. There was adrenaline coursing through every nerve of your body at this point.

“What did you say?” You almost whispered.

“I said you’re being unprofessional.” He stated nonchalantly. You gaped at him before tightening your fist and resisting the urge to punch the crap out of that smug look.

“I’m unprofessional?!”

“Yes,”

“That’s because you’re making it hard for me to work with you!”

He rolled your eyes at you and became indignant.

“Stop doing that!” You barked.

“Im not doing anything,”

“You keep treating me like im stupid,” You pointed a finger at him. “Stop acting like you’re so much better than me when you are not.”

Spencer clamped his mouth shut, seeing you blaze with anger. “Ben would be a way better company than you,”

“Why do you keep saying his name like that?”

You huffed. “Like what?”

“Like—“ Spencer stopped, sucking in a sudden breath as if he hasn’t been breathing since he walked up here with you. “Never mind,”

You scoffed. “No come on,”

You took a dangerous step towards Spencer, now only a few inches away from his face. “Say it,”

“Because I think Ben, pissed you off the most when he had his hands on my—“

Spencer quickly grabbed your face in between both his hands and slammed his mouth onto yours. You inhaled visiously through your nose as you melted immediately under his touch.

Everything froze right then and there as he pulled away quicker than he had leaned in. Your face still remained cupped gently in his hands while your grip was tight on both his wrists as you stared at him, mouth low in shock. A shaky breath left his mouth, and fear was pooling around in his eyes.

You could feel your own chest heaving as you looked back and forth at his eyes, still not grasping what had just happened between the two of you. Spencer towered over your small frame, holding you as if you were the most fragile thing in the room. It felt like there was a rope pulling between the two of you and it was right about to break. His thumb grazed your bottom lip and you could practically hear the chord snap.

All the anger drained your body instantly as you caught yourself pulling him onto your mouth with just as much desperation as he had previously done. Your movements were hurried and frantic, as if both of you were scared that at any point this new found standing point would stop disappear and distance would be put between the two of you. The last thing you wanted was for his body to be any farther away from you than it currently was, and not understanding why you suddenly felt that way, angered you even more.

His mouth hungrily moved against yours as his grip on your face tightened. Your hands snaked their way into the back of his soft curls and pulled at them roughly, emitting a groan from his mouth onto yours.

Out of all the times you'd provoked a groan from Spencer Reid, this had been your all time favorite.

In frantic movements, Spencer pushed you against the nearest wall, hearing a rough thud come from behind you but never once disconnecting your lips from his. His hips pushed against your in one rash motion, causing you to whimper softly against his lips, which reached the deepest parts of him

His hands traveled anywhere and everywhere you'd let them. They ran down your waist and stopped at your hips giving them a rough squeeze which only caused you to squirm once again and pull at his hair ever rougher.

Everything was messy and hurried but so unexplainably wonderful.

"Tell me to stop and I will," He muttered over your lips.

"Don't—“ You warned, panting desperately for him to grab you in ways you could have only dreamt about. You needed to feel his hands rake across your body as if he owed it. “Please, don’t”

Spencer’s heart shuddered as he could visibly hear the desperation in your voice. How you were practically begging for this just as much as he had been. How you melted under his touch so effortlessly.

Before Spencer could move any further, a voice cut the two of you off. “Hey, guys!”

You pushed Spencer off yourself with a little more urgency than you had initially intended. You ran your hands through your hair frantically and pushed your skirt down, which had accidentally— not so accidentally— been pushed up. Spencer on the other hand, settled with a simple, subtle gesture of grazing the corner of his lip to remove some of the nude pink lipstick that had smudge a bit onto his face.

He cleared his voice before turning to whoever had called out, but before he could say anything you quickly interjected. “Morgan? JJ? What are you doing here?”

Spencer could’ve allowed himself to smile at the sound of the quiver in your voice and how your body was still distraught by the adrenaline.

Morgan eyed the two of you and it didn’t take any time at all for him to realize what had happened. The shuffled hair, the puffy lips along with all the wrinkled clothes. Not to mention how both of your chests heaved heavily.

“We have an advance on the case but it seems like you two are busy with something…” JJ stated, looking over at Morgan from the side of his eye.

“Or someone,” He added. You tried to find some sort of defense in your favor but came up with none. You didn’t want to even look Spencer in the eye, so you quickly turned and headed for the staircase, when you approached Morgan, he whistled lowly.

“Someone got a piece of genius boy and enjoyed it—“ You smacked the back of his head.

“Hey!” He groaned, looking back at you while you strutted down the stairs, barely being able to keep your balance steady.

i am planing on doing a spicy part two😝

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