bad bitch.cry baby. @aynanasstuff - Tumblr Blog

Jul 27, 2021

Masterlist:

a/n: yes i finally made a masterlist, yes it is a pain in the ass, yes im still proud of it.

current icon and header: pinterest and @/sunflirt

all of the pieces i write, unless stated otherwise, are written with a brown south asian reader (usually fem) in mind, we are STARVING for representation in interactive experiences such as these so i write solely for them. Also! While my blog is welcome to be perused by minors as well, please heed the warnings in my fics, I DON'T WANNA EXPOSE Y'ALL TO SHIT MINORS SHOULDN'T SEE!

•°Sam Wilson°•

Abhi Na Jao Chhod Kar (childhood friends to lovers)

Hope in the Night (emotional hurt/comfort, fluff)

Dance for you (fluff)

Curses (fluff)

The Way You Look At Me (angst, fluff, hurt/comfort)

Dil toh Baccha hai Ji (fluff)

Kiss Me Like You Mean It (fluff)

Who's the Bionic Staring Machine now? (fluff)

When You See Me Like I See Myself (angst, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff)

There She Is (emotional hurt/comfort, angst, fluff)

Weakness (fluff)

Empty Hands (fluff)

White is a Strange Color (angst)

The World is Too Heavy (emotional hurt/comfort)

Diwali Headcanons Part 2

Finals Break Down (emotional hurt/comfort)

Blissed Out (smut, 18+)

Time (slight angst, flufff)

Tera Ban Baitha Hai Mera Jiya (slight angst, flufff- C's Bollywood Challenge)

Patch Me Up (hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers)

Tu Marz Hai, Dawa Bhi (angst)

Self Care (fluffiest fluff)

Horns (slight angst, flufff)

Moments (fluffff)

Desi Headcanons (flufff)

Welcome To The Family (flufff)

Sit With It (slight angst, hurt/comfort)

Oh Baby (flufff)

Rest Of Our Lives (flufff)

Forever (tw: pregnancy, flufff)

Choices (tw: self harm, hurt/comfort)

Memory Memory II (fluff)

Bloom (angst, kinda happy ending)

Little Things (flufff)

Smut drabble #1 (18+)

Series:

Smut drabble #2 (18+)

Smut drabble #3 (18+)

Wilsons' Residence // Sam Wilson x Desi!Reader (Domestic AU)

This is a series of drabbles and one shots about the Wilson family! Requests open!

•°Spencer Reid°•

Control (smut, hurt/comfort, 18+)

Feel You (smut, hurt/comfort, 18+)

Gehraaiyan (angst, hurt/comfort)

Nothing Changes (forbidden lovers, angst, fluff, 18+)

#masterlist #sam wilson #sam wilson fic #sam wilson x desi!reader #sam wilson x reader #aynanasstuff #marvel #desi marvel #marvel india #x indian!reader #indian!reader #x reader marvel #x poc!reader #the falcon #anthony mackie #sam wilson one shot #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson appreciation #captain america x reader #captain america #spencer reid #spencer reid x desi!reader #spencer reid smut #captain america fic

aynanasstuff

Jul 15

g0ldendesiree

I Knew It, I Knew You | Dean Di Laurentis

summary: when beau tells you your ex needs help, you learn that you'll always go running when it comes to dean.

request: yes/no

warnings: mentions of drinking, minor swearing?

word count: 4.62k

authors note: to my little olivia dean fan nonnie this one is for you… I just couldn’t find a song from her discography that I liked as a title 😔 for the sakes of this story Dean has grown up in New York, but I am hoping that you all love this one!

The first text came on a Tuesday.

You almost ignored it.

Beau: hey there I don’t know if you remember me, but it’s Beau Maxwell

You frowned.

Beau?

It had been three years since you'd seen Beau.

Three years since he watched as you'd stood outside JFK with Dean, crying into the collar of his hoodie while your boarding pass to Paris crumpled in your fist.

It had been four years since you'd promised each other that distance was only temporary.

And two years since life had laughed at both of you.

Your thumb hovered over the screen.

Another message appeared.

Beau: I know this is weird.

Beau: Dean would kill me if he knew I was texting you.

Beau: But I'm worried about him.

Even as part of you wanted to laugh hearing Dean’s voice in your head as you never deleted Beaus number.

By the time you reached the end of Beau's messages, your chest hurt.

Dean wasn't failing school.

He wasn't spiraling.

He wasn't drinking himself stupid every night.

He was just, existing.

Going to class.

Playing hockey.

Smiling when he had to.

Living in this strange in-between where nobody could honestly say he was okay.

Beau hadn’t finished his messages there

Beau: He's been like this since you guys broke up

Beau: He dated a little nothing stuck

Beau: I know you don't owe him anything.

Beau: I just figured if there's one person who knows Dean before he became Dean Di Laurentis, it's you.

You stared at your apartment ceiling for nearly an hour.

You: I'm in New York now.

Three dots appeared instantly.

Beau: WAIT WHAT?

You hadn't told Dean, because how were you meant to?

Of course Summer and the rest of his family knew that you had returned. But to them it was easier to keep it quiet as Dean always looked like his bubble had been burst when his brain settled on you.

Sometimes he didn’t even have to say anything, his face gave it all away.

After graduating in Paris, Ralph Lauren had offered you a permanent position in Manhattan.

It had felt like coming home and starting over all at once.

You rented the tiniest studio apartment known to mankind.

Your parents had offered to help you out, or even have you move back into your old room.

But you wanted your own place.

To prove that you could make it on your own.

The shower barely fit one person.

Your oven looked decorative.

You could touch both kitchen counters if you stretched your arms out.

It was yours.

Dean didn't know.

Because after the breakup, things went quiet.

As neither of you had known how to become friends.

The drive to Briar took a little over four hours.

You spent most of it questioning your own sanity.

What were you even doing?

You weren't his girlfriend anymore.

You had no right showing up.

No right reopening old wounds.

Maybe Beau had been wrong.

Maybe Dean had moved on.

Maybe- “don’t tell me you're gonna chicken out." Beau leaned against your passenger window as soon as you parked down the street from the hockey house.

You rolled it down "I almost did." You confessed as the brunette rolled his eyes slipping into your passenger seat.

Beau shut the door behind him quicker than he had opened it "I figured." He smiled as you laughed.

God.

He looked older.

Broader.

Less reckless than the nineteen-year-old you'd known.

He leaned over the center console and hugged you before you could protest “it's really good to see you." His voice was sweet as he spoke.

You got to know Beau over the summers mainly and you knew why he was Dean’s best friend "you too," you patted his back, ignoring the way your mind went to Dean.

You didn’t think you would miss the blonde when you came to Boston, not when you were here for him.

He pulled back to look at you “you look…” he trailed off trying to find the right word to pinpoint it.

You cocked your head "French?" There was something about your style that had changed as you matured.

Somehow you had landed on a style that had a bit more of a French touch as you tried to find yourself in the French capital “yeah,”he laughed as that had weirdly captured it.

You sighed "I've been told." You looked down at the charm bracelet you wore.

The charm that had caught your eye was one from the one trip to Paris that Dean did.

He had surprised you right before your first ever show “you still have the accent." Beau teased as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

You laughed as you flicked him "I never had one." You argued as he shook his head.

"You absolutely did."

You rolled your eyes "I lived there for three and a half years, not thirty!” You reminded him as you felt like you still sounded like the born and raised New Yorker that you were.

Beau had heard you speaking French the one day as someone came to talk to you in the middle of your call with Dean “you sounded like you belonged in a perfume commercial." It was his favourite joke because you really did sound like it.

You rolled your eyes "still annoying." As you softly shoved his shoulder.

Beau proudly puffed his chest out "I've matured." He grinned making you laugh.

"You absolutely haven't."

He grinned “no,” Dean used to joke that he had found your brother in a best friend.

Because the truth was that weirdly Beau was like your brother from another mother.

And still as annoying as ever.

Then his smile faded “he's inside." Your stomach dropped as you turned the ignition off in the car.

The hockey house looked exactly the same.

Different pictures.

Different shoes by the door.

The same awful couch.

The same smell of laundry detergent and twenty-something-year-old boys.

Garrett looked up first.

His eyes nearly popped out of his head as he dropped his controller on the floor “holy shit.” The boy didn’t care that he had basically quit the game that the boys were playing.

Logan followed his gaze “no way,” his jaw dropped as they stood up.

Tucker dropped the basket of laundry on the staircase "Dean!" He yelled out, knowing that the boy was in his bedroom.

Your heart stopped as your grip around Beau’s arm.

He looked horrified "maybe I should have given them a warning?" Beau shrugged as he was glad you didn’t look like you were going to hit him.

Heavy footsteps and a laugh made your heads snap in the direction of the second floor “what?” Dean called out as he walked down the stairs.

He would have made a joke about the clothes on the steps but now his eyes were lingering on you.

And he froze.

Everything else disappeared.

He hadn't changed.

Not really.

A little taller somehow.

Hair a touch longer.

Face older.

The boy you'd fallen in love with had become a man without asking your permission.

He stared.

You stared back “hi,” you dropped your hand from Beau’s arm.

His mouth opened before it closed again “you,” his voice cracked.

Dean rubbed his eyes as if he needed to confirm that he wasn’t dreaming "you’re here,” you smiled sadly seeing how excited he was.

You nodded “in the flesh,” you wriggled your fingers as you almost swore that you were going to throw up.

The blonde ran his fingers through his hair “I thought-” he cut himself off as he pointed at you.

Dean took a deep breath in "what about Paris?” He was still trying to process that you were there.

Silence.

You exhaled deeply “needed a change,” in truth, you didn’t know what to tell him.

Because how do you summarise that you didn’t tell him you were back.

Especially when you couldn’t reach out after all this time.

Not when he was half the reason why New York held your heart, even after all this time apart.

His eyes searched your face like he couldn't trust what they were seeing “you look…” Dean trailed off as he didn’t know what word was the best.

Taller, older, beautiful, different, good?

None of them seemed to capture what Dean wanted to say.

You laughed nervously “so do you." You nodded as you sucked at your teeth.

Nobody spoke.

Garrett slowly looked toward Beau "you texted her?" The hockey captain couldn’t help it when he smirked.

Beau didn’t even try to look guilty "I regret nothing." He raised his hands as Garrett motioned to the rest of the guys to move into the kitchen.

It left you and Dean alone for the first time in years.

Dean finally blinked “when did you get back?" He walked to the bottom of the stairs.

Now only a few feet stood between you “three months ago." After graduation you had spent a few weeks in Europe wanting to travel around.

To go visit the few places you hadn’t seen during your time studying "you've been back for three months?" Dean almost sounded hurt as he spoke.

You nodded “in New York." Your body almost braced for his response.

His eyebrows furrowed "New York?" Dean spoke like the city was from some random little state, and not where the two of you grew up.

You rubbed your hands on the thighs of your jeans "I work for Ralph Lauren now." It had been your dream since you were a little girl.

Dean wasn’t surprised by it, the company had been on very vision board that you made since you were seven “you only live four hours away?”He looked almost offended.

"I do."

The boy ran his fingers through his hair "and you never," his voice cracked as he stopped himself from carrying on.

You swallowed as you shook your head "I didn't think it was fair."

His jaw tightened "fair to who?" Neither of you answered.

Dean pursed his lips together “where are you staying?” He changed the topic as he sighed rubbing his hand over his face.

You chewed at the inside of your cheek “my dad has status at the Marriott-” the two of you had used his status a few times around the country.

But when you used it, you rocked up to the hotel hoping that they had space.

And Dean knew that you weren’t going to be different just yet “absolutely not.” He shook his head.

Your hands landed on your hip “I’ll sleep on the couch and you can take my bed.” Your eyes widened as the boy spoke.

The boys stuck their head out of the kitchen as you sighed “you really mean that?” You tugged your fingers through your hair as he nodded.

Dean motioned to your keys “is your bag in your car?” He asked as he slipped on his slides.

You smiled as he had always taken charge “yeah, I’ll come show ya.” Beau sent you a thumbs up that made you swallow a laugh as Dean guided you out of the house.

The boys stayed quiet until the door shut “did we all just see that?” Logan asked while Tucker grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

The youngest boy sighed “here is to operation get them back together.” And they had seven days to make it happen.

The week felt impossible.

Somehow it also felt normal.

Like someone had pressed play on a life you'd paused years ago.

You drank coffee together.

Walked around campus after his lectures.

Getting to sit in the living room with the boys after dinner, conveniently where the only free seat was next to Dean.

Dean showed you the renovated rink.

You watched practice from the stands.

He still skated the same.

Fast.

Beautiful.

Effortless.

You forgot how much you loved watching him.

He caught you smiling afterward “what?” He asked as he walked you out of the arena.

You shoved your hands into your jackets pockets “you still look better on skates than you do walking." You laughed as he shook his head.

Dean remembered the one month when you had fallen in love with stilettos, so at 16 you were walking (and doing a terrible job at it) around your parent’s apartment.

Until you rolled your ankle and Dean got to play nurse for the weekend while both sets of parents were on a golf trip.

The blonde softly shoved your shoulder “I walked into a pole once.” It happened when he came to visit you.

After a weekend in Berlin, the two of you swore that with the amount you had drank. You may as well have been German.

And that Dean was probably concussed after he walked straight into a lamp post.

You shrugged as you laughed “it was a big night,” you opened the door to the outside, letting the cool air wrap around your body.

Dean pushed his lips into a thin line “you fell over laughing." He reminded you as you giggled again at the memory.

You ended up in tears, drunkenly rolling in the street as you almost peed you laughed so hard “you deserved it." You pursed your lips together to not make it look like you were grinning.

The blonde watched you pull your keys out of your pocket "I probably did." He mumbled as you ran to your drivers side door like you always used to.

You absolutely loved driving to the extent that Dean only ever got to drive you if he was in his own car.

And even then he was often forced to give up his keys as you gave him this look he just couldn’t say no to.

One afternoon you wandered into the backyard.

Dean joined you a few minutes later.

He ignored Tucker’s complaints about how if the two of you spoke outside then it would delay the barbecue that he needed to start.

The blonde flipped him off before he let the door shut behind him.

Neither of you spoke for a while “you still wear it." He couldn’t help it when he smiled.

He'd given it to you when you were seventeen.

Because apparently the piece reminded him of you “you noticed." You looked down at the tiny silver bracelet.

Dean sipped at the beer in his hand "I noticed five seconds after I saw you." A soft laugh escaped from his lips.

He noticed everything when it came to you “I tried taking it off for a while.”You rubbed your thumb over it.

"And?"

You licked your lips "I hated how empty my wrist felt." You smiled as you looked up at

He looked away as he weighed up the consequences of sharing this with you "I still have your postcards." Your breath caught as he nodded "all of them."

Every city that you went into you’d buy a postcard and write Dean a note while slipping in a photo or two "I wrote a lot." You sprayed each card with your signature perfume.

Dean never admitted it but he love getting to smell you when he opened each envelope "I know." The blonde always said that he would have hated to see what your stamp fees were like.

You smiled “I still have the ones you gave me.” Silence settled again around your confession.

Eventually he sighed “god I hated Paris.” Dean let out a dry laugh.

Before you moved there he actually had nothing against the city of love. But by the start of his sophomore year he hated the distance that it put between the two of you.

He envied the long distance couples that still got to be in the same country “I know.” You laughed quietly.

You rubbed your lips together "I loved Paris.” It was the city you dreamed of being in for years.

Yes you were now back where you grew up, but you had always wanted to experience living in a different country.

Dean shrugged as he wished he could freeze this moment between the two of you "I hated that you loved it." He wished his words weren’t as harsh as they ended up being.

You nodded as you could always sense it, the boy never said it though in fearing that he’d mess with your dreams "sometimes I hated that you stayed." Dean tensed from beside you.

You hated how you missed moments like this "I almost came home." Your words slipped from your lips.

His head snapped toward you “what?” His eyes just about popped out of his head.

You smiled sadly "after my first semester." As you looked up at the sky "I had my ticket."

By December, you knew you loved Paris. But when you came back to New York for Christmas, getting to spend it with everyone who you knew was tough.

Sure Paris was fun, but New York was safe.

Dean froze as he never expected to hear it “you never told me." Back then, you two were telling each other everything.

So he was surprised that you wanted to come home instead of going to Kenya on a cultural experience trip during your spring break.

You nodded as you shrugged "I knew if I came home,” your voice was barely a voice a whisper.

You looked at him "I'd never go back." He understood immediately.

Things were already getting tough between the two of you at that point as your relationship was being spent predominantly on FaceTime and texting.

Which for two people who were practically attached at the hip, it was hard “you would've resented me." Dean knew he would have been so happy that you were with him again.

So that would have made chasing your dream ten times harder “eventually." You nodded as you chewed at the inside of your cheek.

Your voice broke as you looked at him “and we broke up anyways.” Dean didn’t give your watery eyes a chance for tears to fall before he pulled you into a hug.

His arms held you tightly as he kissed the top of your head, the way he comforted you had you feeling like you were 18 again "I don't think I ever stopped loving you.” His confession lingered in your ears.

You looked up to see his eyes staring right back up at you “I didn’t ever D,” your words were heavy on both of you.

Dean felt like he had waited for ever to hear you say it “so where do we go from here?” Somehow he didn’t feel like he couldn’t just lean down and kiss you like he wanted to.

It was the hardest thing that you had said all week “I don’t know.” Your chin pressed into his chest.

When you left on Sunday morning, the goodbye felt wrong.

Again.

Dean helped load your overnight bag into the trunk “this feels déjà vu,” you smiled weakly.

The hockey player nodded as he shut the trunk of your car "it does." He frowned as he was eye level with you as you stood on the sidewalk “you driving straight home?"

You laughed at his protective side “I’ll text you when I get home.” Dean honestly loved that you were always like that, without him ever asking.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise “you still not deleting people’s numbers?” He teased you as you laughed.

You nodded as you smiled “as they say habits die hard,” you shrugged as neither of you moved.

Finally he stepped forward.

Pulled you into a hug.

It lasted much longer than either of you intended “you look happy." His voice was quiet against your hair.

You had worked hard to get yourself into this position "I am." It was the truth as you were almost living your dream.

It would have just been perfect if you had the boy too "I'm glad." His thumb dragged across your silver bracelet.

The engraved words of ‘reach for the stars’ was under his finger.

You remembered why you were had been brought to Briar U “you deserve to be happy too." You frowned as you could see it each night.

Sure you being around helped, but Dean wasn’t at his happiest.

He smiled sadly "I'm working on it." His truth was that he didn’t see a way he could do it without you.

A groan came from behind the boy “Dean would you stop hogging her so we can say goodbye?” Beau placed his hands on his hips as you laughed.

All four boys were stood up the street waiting to see you off.

And you couldn’t help it as you almost grew a little emotional seeing them again.

The memories of your trip lingered on your mind as you settled back in at home.

It was Wednesday evening.

Twelve days since you last saw Dean.

Only three hours since you last spoke to him.

He had sent you a snap of a gas station, in response yours of your breakfast that morning.

You were finishing work when the receptionist called through the loudspeaker, announcing that someone was waiting for you at the front desk.

Part of you was embarrassed, but the other part was mainly confused.

Because nobody ever came to your office to drop by.

So you were really curious as you let your feet bring you out the elevators on the ground floor “Dean?” You asked, seeing the blonde boy already making friends.

He smiled as he walked over to you, “I was in the neighbourhood." The lie was clear as he was nervous.

You shook your head as you wrapped your arms around him “you guys play Saint A’s in three days.” You pointed out as you remembered Garrett telling you all about the stress that the game was going to bring.

Dean smirked“you know my game schedule? He softly elbowed your side.

Your face dropped as you realised that you were caught “you drove four hours." You flipped it back onto him.

"It's technically three and a half if traffic cooperates."

You laughed as you shook your head “you're unbelievable." Dean followed you back to the elevator towards the parking lot.

He grinned as he nodded "I know." The boy took in how you looked in your outfit.

The white collared shirt and black pencil skirt had you looking really hot, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

That afternoon, you took Dean to all of your new favourites. The ones you had made not living under your parents’ roof.

Your favourite bar, favourite ice cream shop, favourite cafe, and favourite spot to people-watch from. All of the locations that helped make you who you are.

The tour took you all the way back to your place “promise me you won’t judge it.” You pleaded as you pushed the door open.

Dean stepped into your apartment and spun around as he took all of it in.

His hand ran through his hair “this place is,” he looked around the apartment trying to find the best word but he couldn’t.

"Tiny."

Dean swore his freshman dorm room was probably bigger than your space "I know." You laughed as you put your bag on the floor by the door.

He walked further into the place "the couch is basically touching the kitchen." Dean didn’t think he could fit between the sofa and the dinning table.

"I know."

The boy laughed as he saw your messily made bed "the bed's right there." He did feel slightly comforted seeing your bunny rabbit stuffy sat up by your pillow.

"I know."

He looked at you “you like it." In true you fashion the biggest place in the apartment was a tie between your kitchen and your closet.

"I love it."

He smiled seeing your genuinely happy expression “it suits you." The boy confessed as he plopped onto your couch.

You ordered terrible Chinese food because neither of you wanted to cook.

The cartons covered your tiny coffee table.

Dean sat cross-legged on your rug “you remember when we used to order this after hockey games?" He enjoyed it because after every team celebration, he had you to himself and his favourite comfort food.

You leaned your back against the couch "the place with the suspicious dumplings?" You hoped it was vegetables in them. You also refused to look further than what the menu said.

Part of you almost gagged as you thought back to it “they definitely violated health codes." Dean muttered as he sipped his water.

Looking back, you were surprised neither one of you ended up with food poisoning “they definitely did." He laughed.

And it was a genuinely happy sound.

God.

You'd missed that sound.

Hours slipped by without either of you noticing.

You talked about Paris.

About New York.

About hockey.

About fashion.

About everything except the thing sitting between you.

Eventually the conversation quieted.

Dean looked around your apartment again "I kept thinking," you started as you grabbed an egg roll.

The boy listened "that’s dangerous,” as his eyes turned back to you at the next of him.

Your lips formed a thin line “I will hit you.” You grumbled as you threw the roll at him.

Dean of course caught it “I’m kidding,” he laughed before he decided to tuck into it.

You reached for another “is this a second chance?” You motioned between the two of you.

The boy licked his lips “I mean it can be?” He was scared at the concept of putting his feelings out there first.

Especially when you looked at him like that.

You placed your food carton on the floor in front of you “I’m serious Dean,” you put your chopsticks on your coffee table “like are we on the cards now that I’m here?”

The hockey player shrugged “why can’t we be?” It was the question that should have been simple.

When you broke up with him, you swore it almost killed you.

Even though you always told yourself that it was for the best of both of you “Dean you are my person,” you shook your head as tears formed in your eyes “but I don’t think I can go through losing you again.” His heart broke as you spoke.

He reached across the space between you, taking your hand the same careful way he used to when you were sixteen “I don’t want to waste this second chance.”Something inside your chest gave way.

You looked at the man you'd loved for almost half your life.

Not the high school boy.

Not the college boyfriend.

The man who had driven four hours just to sit on your apartment floor and eat cheap Chinese food.

The same person who you realised you were in love with he was the first person to ever volunteer to be a model for your clothing designs.

You leaned forward before you could overthink it.

Your lips found his.

Soft.

Tentative.

Home.

Dean smiled into the kiss, one hand cupping your face as though he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.

When you finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours “go I’ve missed doing that." You laughed through the tears threatening to spill.

Your fingers cupped his jaw “I’ve missed wanting you to do it again.”He kissed you once more, slower this time.

Outside, Manhattan carried on without either of you.

Inside your tiny studio apartment, surrounded by takeout boxes and unpacked dreams, it finally felt like life had stopped asking the two of you to choose between love and ambition.

You'd grown up.

You'd chased your dreams.

You'd found your way back.

And this time, there wasn't an ocean waiting between you.

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