#we slept on an air mattress at my brother's and it was all fine and dandy

[thewholeavocado]

I want nothing more than to curl up on my bf and lay my head on his chest as we drift off to sleep.

[papergirllife]

Jeong Jaehyun

Fwb! Jaehyun x reader

What started off as just a casual fling with Johnny’s sister, Jaehyun finds himself spiraling when he realises his feelings for you, and if that wasn’t messy enough, his best friend just has to catch him in the act.

warnings : unprotected sex, rough sex, cream pie, fluff, etc.

Summer holidays during your university is usually filled with kids looking forward to going out together and going on the adventure they had planned at the start of the school year, or some, just want a gateway to Jeju to relax, but you? You had other plans.

Instead of leaving Seoul, you plan on staying right here, spending time with your brother, Johnny, and his members, but right now, you are planning to go see Jaehyun, only Jaehyun.

Sleeping with Jaehyun was supposed to be a one time thing, it was one night at their dorms when the guys were discussing about Jaehyun’s escapades, he had a renowned reputation for being a lady’s man in their company, and you heard his dick was a ten out of ten, so why not give it a go?

It has been 5 months since the start of this friend with benefits relationship, the two of you weren’t exclusive, but neither of you seem to have found anyone better.

Right after your last class, you got a text from Jaehyun.

Jungwoo is out with his sister and Johnny is out with Mark, come hang out ;)

You typed a quick okay, heading to the bus station to get to their dorms as soon as possible.

When you got there, you had unfortunately bumped into Donghyuck when he was on his way out.

“Noona? You're here to see Johnny? He's out with Mark though,” Donghyuck informed you.

“It's alright, I'm in no rush, I'll just wait for him here,” you said before letting yourself in, looking around to see if anyone else was around before sneaking up to the tenth floor, heading into Jaehyun’s room.

“Hi baby, you look gorgeous today, like you always do,” Jaehyun complimented, his arms outstretched to envelope you in his arms, the two of you staying like this for almost two minutes, just relishing in each others warmth.

“I missed you, Jaehyun,” you said, your feet moving forward in little steps, plopping him onto the bed with your added weight.

“We were literally just hugging, what's gotten you so worked up?” Jaehyun asked, his eyes lighting up at how yours was shining at his.

“I'm just in a good mood, and when I'm in a good mood, my sex drive tends to fluctuate,” you said, removing your cardigan, feeling the heat building up within you, revealing your cute bra underneath, soft pink just like the tips of his ears.

Jaehyun reaches out, the pads of his thumbs touching your clothed breasts, tracing the lace patterns, he reached the back of your bra, unclasping it, letting it fall below your shoulders, sliding it off your arms.

You tug the hem of Jaehyun's shirt, taking it off him to expose his chiseled body, letting your hands wander the expanse of his smooth skin, going all the way to his muscular back, holding onto him as he manoeuvres the two of you onto his bed, laying your head gently on the pillow.

“You have sheets,” you said, surprised to feel linen silk beneath you.

“Just for you,” he said, eyes looking downwards, embarrassed that he's lazy to place sheets onto the mattress when he's alone.

“You wouldn’t have to if we went to my place instead, then we could’ve been as loud as we want,” you said as Jaehyun nipped the skin just beside your nub, marking you in places only the two of you can see.

“Wanted to see you in my bed,” Jaehyun mumbled before taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking it like a newborn baby as his other hand wanders to your skirt, flipping it up to rub circles on your clothed clit, your breathing staggers at the ministrations, biting down onto your lip to silence yourself.

“Hurry, Jae, Johnny might be back soon,” you said before bucking your hips up, signaling him to pick up the pace.

“Are you sure you're wet enough? It was a week ago when we last had sex,” Jaehyun reminded you, fearing that he'd hurt you without proper foreplay.

“You literally sent a dick pic two nights ago, I'm fine, I’m really wet right now, shouldn't you do something about it?” you said, whispering the last part in a seductive tone that you know drives Jaehyun insane, tempting him.

“Fuck, okay,” Jaehyun immediately agrees, his cock jolting up at the thought of you touching yourself to him, Jaehyun stands up to take off his pants tugging down your panties after, a trail of arousal in between your thighs.

Jaehyun inserts two fingers inside you, making a scissoring motion, making sure you’re loose enough as he licks the trail of juices on your thigh, his teeth grazing the expanse of your thigh, biting down onto the flesh near your heat, sucking on it harshly until a flower blooms, red and purple dusting your skin.

After cleaning you up, he lined himself at your entrance, pushing in an inch, feeling how wet you were, he decided to just slam his whole length inside you, a loud whine of his name falling from your lips as your chest arched into his touch, he observed your face, taking in how you had a dazed look in your eyes, smiling slightly at how full you feel when he was all the way in, letting you adjust before he decides to move, but you seem to be more impatient today.

“What are you waiting for? Fuck me,” you said, feeling Jaehyun twitch inside you.

“Watch your mouth, baby,” Jaehyun said before giving your butt a spank, the pain was mild, just the right amount to remind you who's in charge and still feels arousing to you.

Jaehyun pulls out majority of his length, leaving the tip in before sheathing it back in quickly. You moan at the sudden pleasure, instinctively, Jaehyun covers your mouth before continuing his pace, snapping his hips against yours, the tip of his length brushing your sweet spot at every thrust, Jaehyun knew your body like the back of his hand, using it to his advantage, he’d always position himself right at that angle whenever the two of you needed to be quick.

Jaehyun removes his hand from your mouth when he felt both of you reaching your high soon, lips capturing yours, the feeling of your warm walls clenching around him was a feeling he could only describe as euphoric, slowly tipping him over to his orgasm.

With a hand to spare now, Jaehyun lets his hand travel southwards your body, parting your folds to reveal your swollen clit to him, rubbing it in harsh circles, pushing you over the edge as yours legs jolted from the sudden orgasm, your walls spasming around Jaehyun, as you struggled not to scream aloud, muffling your sounds with your arm, your high pushed him over the edge as well, harshly pulling your arm away, he crashes his lips against yours, swallowing your moans as he gives you a few last sloppy pumps to ride out both your highs.

When the two of you finished, Jaehyun pulled out slowly, watching the mixture of cum escaping your core, pride swelling at the sinful scene.

Jaehyun gets up to pull tissues from the box, wiping you clean before crashing onto the bed beside you, tugging the blankets up as he captures you in his hold, making sure you won’t get cold.

Just as you were about to fall asleep, someone barges in Jaehyun's room, making you jump at the sound.

“Hey, Jae, my sister left, wanna get coffee together? I'll just drop off her drink on the way back,” Johnny said quickly, halting in his tracks when he sees you, his sister, in his best friend’s bed, the both of you obviously naked underneath.

“What the fuck?!” Johnny asked, looking at his friend with a mixture of anger and disappointment.

“You, out,” Johnny ordered, pointing his finger at Jaehyun.

Jaehyun curses under his breath, slipping out of bed to dress himself.

“We should explain this together,” you said, knowing how angry Johnny could get.

“No, it's alright, get some rest, I can handle this,” Jaehyun said before heading out of his room.

By the time he was out, all of the members on the 10th floor were hanging around the living area, some were here for the pipping hot tea, some were here to make sure things won't get out of hand.

“You could've slept with anyone, why my sister? Aren't the girls at the company enough for you?” Johnny questioned, his tone borderline mad.

“Look, Johnny, hear me out. I stopped sleeping around with other girls, I think most of you realised that, I haven't been bringing girls over for a long time now,” Jaehyun started off, his friends nodding, just realising that their friend hasn’t been bringing hook ups home like the past.

“The thing is, I really like her, Johnny, I didn’t mean to catch feelings, but once I realised that, I couldn't even look at anyone other than your sister, just give me some time to tell her that myself,” Jaehyun said, finishing up his explanation, praying that he’d make out of this unscathed.

Johnny looked at him, noting how serious he looks right now, nothing like the Jaehyun who joked about how ladies get in line for him.

“Okay, as long as you don't break her heart. If she comes to me crying, you’re a dead man, Jeong Jaehyun,” Johnny warned, his eyes deathly.

Jaehyun, releasing a breath of air he was holding in, nods at his friend before going back to his room, only to find out that you were up, dressed in his shirt, a goofy smile on your face that he adores.

“I heard everything,” you started off with, “and I really like you too, Jae,” you said before opening your arms, gesturing him into a hug.

“Wait, really?” Jaehyun asked in disbelief, but nevertheless requited your hug.

“Yes, you idiot, took you long enough to realise,” you said before kissing him on the lips passionately, the pace slower than usual, just so you could express your feelings for him.

Jaehyun pulls away shortly after, his hands mushing your cheeks together, a lovesick smile on his face before he pulls you in another kiss, the two of you falling onto his bed in giggles like two teenagers in love.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

🥺 babe 🥺 bAbE

What if Jask gets sick at Kaer Morhen but tries to hide it from Geralt bc he doesn't want him to think he's gross/weak/etc? And Geralt has the Feelings Braincell for once?

oh babe... thank you

tw: sickness, falling unconscious, fever, whump/angst with a happy ending

---

Jaskier knew he had a fever the moment he woke up. He could feel it burning beneath this skin like a forge, flushing his face a more vibrant shade of pink than usual. He glared at his reflection in the small, round mirror above his dressing table and willed himself to feel better. It was his first winter at Kaer Morhen, and he didn’t want Geralt to think he’d made a mistake by inviting Jaskier along to stay. The bard knew that his stoic, self-loathing Witcher would blame himself immediately for any misfortune or illness that befell Jaskier. Geralt might even reconsider inviting him back again someday. So he had to keep his little bug a secret until he was well. Surely it was nothing major. Surely it would pass after a few days, unnoticed and unremarkable.

He should have known better.

Jaskier dabbed a bit more perfume than usual (which was generally none at all) beneath his ears and along his wrists. He hoped the peony-lavender mixture would mask whatever kind of scent his illness might carry and slowly, carefully made his way down the long stone staircase that led from the guest bedroom to the enormous kitchen. His limbs felt achy and tired, even though he’d slept heavily the night previous. His head sat heavy and unbalanced atop his shoulders; the world wavered and spun around him as he desperately tried to keep from pitching sideways into the wall. 

“You alright there, boy?” Vesemir asked, catching his eye from the bottom of the stairs. “You seem a bit… nervous.”

Maybe his anxiety was doing a better job of hiding his secret than the perfume. 

“Just a little wool between my ears this morning,” the bard laughed brightly, ignoring the searing pain that throbbed through his chest with the movement, “I think I might go chop some wood and see if the brisk mountain air helps clear it out faster.”

“Hmm,” the eldest Wolf nodded sagely. There was no doubt which teacher Geralt had admired most as a pup. “Alright. Be safe, take care. I’ll send someone to fetch you when breakfast is ready.”

“Thank you, Vesemir,” Jaskier bowed shallowly and headed for the kitchen’s back door. He took the axe into his hands and tried not to sway on his feet from the added weight. The bard covered his tracks by throwing a smile back over his shoulder and pushing the door open. “See you for breakfast!”

He stepped out of the keep and let the heavy slab of wood slam shut behind him. The early morning sky above Kaer Morhen was cloudless and the sun was bright, blinding him entirely. His situation only worsened when the sudden change in temperature, from the warm kitchen to the freezing mountainside, punched the air from his lungs in one thick cloud. He struggled to regain it as he wove his way through the snow drifts to the woodpile. Slowly, and with great effort, Jaskier lined up a thick log to be split.

The world felt watery and far away. His hand, which he knew to be attached to the end of his arm by some miracle, would not obey his command to pick up the axe again. His lungs felt heavy in his chest cavity and his legs suddenly ached with a fierce intensity. 

With a quiet cry of protest against his own body failing him, Jaskier collapsed into the snow.

---

Jaskier’s heartbeat was so slow and quiet, his limbs unmoving and his lips nearly blue from the cold; Geralt wasn’t sure he’d ever been so scared before in his life. He turned to Vesemir and asked, barely keeping the frantic terror from clawing its way out of his throat: “How long was he out there?” 

“Half an hour at most,” the grey Wolf shrugged. “I don’t really remember, Geralt. I was busy taking care of the breakfast arrangements.”

“Fuck!”

“Calm down,” Eskel ordered. He frowned at Geralt from his place at Jaskier’s opposite side. He’d helped carry the bard from the courtyard to Geralt’s room and was just as worried about the human’s wellbeing. “Panicking won’t help him. Now, what’s the problem?”

“It’s hard to tell over all that stupid perfume,” Lambert snarled. “Stupid fucking bard fucking knew we would be able to smell it on him. He covered his gods-damned tracks.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt murmured, having grown suddenly calm. He let the back of his knuckles drag softly across the bard’s too-hot cheek until he could stick a stray lock of sweaty brown hair back behind his ear. “You idiot.”

The bard shifted against the blanket they’d laid him on, his brow wrinkling. His arms twitched slightly, as if he was trying to move them, and he whined plaintively: “G’ralt.”

“I’m here, Jask,” the Witcher replied quickly, forgetting they weren’t alone in the room. He took one of the bard’s freezing hands into his own and began rubbing the warmth back into his fingers. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you better. You’ll be alright.”

“Who are you trying to reassure?” Lambert huffed a short laugh. “You or the bard?”

“Leave off,” Eskel shot his younger brother a glare. The redhead rolled his eyes and moved to lean against the wall near the door. Eskel continued speaking to Lambert, but his eyes were back on Jaskier, who kept trying to get closer to Geralt even in his sleep. “Why don’t you go grab some clean clothes from his room while we get him warmed up and conscious again.”

“Fine,” Lambert spat. But he took off at a quick trot, regardless.

“Geralt, get his wet clothes off and get him wrapped up. Eskel, you come with me to the kitchen. I’ll need help carrying things and I’m sure the bard would prefer some privacy in this particular matter.”

Eskel nodded his agreement and followed Vesemir from the room, leaving Geralt alone with Jaskier. The White Wolf hurried to undress and swaddle the bard with a warm, heavy wool blanket and several furs, talking all the while in a low, worried voice. “Fuck, Jaskier. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry this happened and that you- Why did you hide it? Why wouldn’t you- Are you afraid of me? Is that why you didn’t come to me for help?”

Jaskier’s lids fluttered open and Geralt watched with nervous anticipation as two of the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen, blue as cornflowers and brighter than the spring sky, tried their best to focus on his face. “Geralt?”

“I’m here, Jaskier. What’s ailing you? Please, tell me how I can help you.”

“Hurts,” the bard managed to groan. “To breathe.”

“Fuck,” Geralt growled. “We need to get you warm. Lambert should be back with your clothes by now.”

Jaskier’s head lolled back against the pillow and he struggled to reach for his Witcher, “Hold me.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll warm up-” he gasped between words, as if every syllable pained him to expel “-faster if… you hold me.”

“Hmm,” Geralt’s brows furrowed in frustration. He knew Jaskier was right, that he’d feel better faster with skin-on-skin contact, but he also wanted to hold Jaskier for other, less emergency-based reasons. That was unacceptable. Losing Jaskier to death or sickness or other human reasons was intolerable but losing him, in all senses of the word, because of Geralt’s impossible feelings? That would be truly horrendous.

The warring factions of his heart were still clamoring over a decision when Eskel and Vesemir re-entered carrying two large trays. One was covered with foodstuffs and the other held an enormous clay teapot and mugs. A small pot of honey, gathered from Vesemir’s very own beehives, was the most obvious sign of affection Geralt had ever seen the older man display for a near-stranger. 

“I’m gonna… get… spoiled,” Jaskier gasped. The eldest Wolf shot Geralt a glare. 

“Why aren’t you in there with him? You know the best way to warm up a hypothermic person is skin contact, Geralt! I certainly taught you better than this.”

“I didn’t-” he stuttered. “I wasn’t-”

“He’s afraid,” Jaskier smiled sadly, cuddling himself deeper into the furs as he turned his gaze towards the fire. All three of the Witchers could smell his sadness, even more potent than the illness ravaging his delicate human body. Geralt winced when his brother and father glared at him in tandem, expressions nearly matching in fury. The bard was still looking away, watching the flames send dancing patterns of light against the stone walls. “Don’t worry… won’t ask… for any more.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispered, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. “May I hold you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s our cue to leave,” Vesemir smiled beneath his mustache. Jaskier was too tired to blush, and opted to bury his head in Geralt’s shoulder instead. “Come along, Eskel. Let’s see what Lambert has gotten up to.”

“What about Jaskier’s clothes?”

“He can borrow Geralt’s for now. I’m sure our White Wolf won’t mind sharing; he’s the possessive type, after all.”

Geralt rolled his eyes and grumbled out of habit more than disagreement. 

When Vesemir and Eskel had gone for good and the door was closed, Geralt pulled Jaskier out of the furs and removed his own shirt. He settled the bard against his chest and buried his nose in Jaskier’s dark hair, breathing in the scents of sweat and sickness and now, thank the gods, tangy-bright happiness. “Gods, Jaskier. Don’t scare me like that ever again. I can’t lose you.”

“I didn’t… want… to disappoint.”

“You never do and never will,” Geralt intoned. He pulled the furs over them both and splayed his large hands across Jaskier’s back. The bard’s skin was overly hot in some places and freezing in others; Geralt buried his panic in order to care for... for the man he loved. He took a deep breath and rubbed slow circles between the bard’s shoulder blades. “I… I love you, Jaskier.”

“Hmm,” the bard hummed tunelessly. “Love you… too.”

Geralt helped him sit up and drink a mug of tea. He listened, slowly allowing himself to relax, as Jaskier’s breathing eased and his heartbeat balanced. When the tea was gone and the fire was re-built to Geralt’s satisfaction, the Witcher tucked Jaskier’s head beneath his chin and wrapped his arms around the bard’s shoulders. “Oh, my little lark. I’ve been so foolish for too long.”

“Yeah,” Jaskier grinned into the Witcher’s warm pectoral. “Me... too.”

“Well, we’ll have plenty of time when you feel better,” Geralt murmured, lips pressing over and over to the top of the bard’s head. Jaskier couldn’t keep himself from smiling, even as he drifted back to sleep. The Witcher felt something settle in his chest when he whispered: “Rest up, dear heart. There are many more adventures to be had.”

[c-e-d-dreamer]

AHHHHH DEMON NESSIAN PT 2 PLEASE!!!!! It’s such a fun idea, I love it!!!!! And I need the angst of Cassian making a deal for Nesta 😭

Thank you so much! I'm so glad you liked it. But I have to be honest, I don't know what Cassian's deal is. Like in my head, I know he makes one, but try as I might, I cannot get my brain to think of something clever and/or creative. The obvious answer is of course a soul for a soul, but that feels counterproductive to them living happy and in love sooooo. I even tried to crowdsource with my two besties but they were equally stumped. I mean happy to crowdsource here on what people think Nesta's soul is worth... Anyways! All this to say, this isn't quite what you asked for, but I hope you will enjoy each member of Cassian's family finding out about Nesta. I did throw some angst in at the end for ya ;) TW: for mentions of death

Part One

Another sigh has Cassian’s attention being pulled away from his laptop. He glances over the screen to where Nesta is lounging on his sofa. She had finally given up on her dress, instead opting for an old pair of Cassian’s sweats and a t-shirt. He can’t help but notice how at home she seems to look in his space, legs tucked up under her, her hair down from it’s usual intricate style and pulled back in just a simple braid that falls down across her shoulder. Her eyes snap to his, and he knows he’s been caught staring, so he goes back to the email he was writing.

“If you’re bored,” Cassian starts. “You’re welcome to any of my books.”

“You mean your books that are almost entirely nonfiction?”

“You don’t like my books?”

“What kind of person actually reads and enjoys nonfiction?”

“I find the history interesting,” Cassian defends. Nesta merely rolls her eyes with a scowl in response, crossing her arms across her chest. “You’re not exactly threatening dressed like that, you know.”

Cassian knows he’s made a mistake when he watches Nesta’s eyebrow raise, the way her chin raises just slightly. Her face is a cool mask of unimpressed. Dangerous. Before Cassian can even formulate an apology in his brain, let alone speak it aloud, his laptop slams shut, almost taking his fingers with it.

“Now, that’s just rude,” Cassian quips, but the way the left side of Nesta’s mouth tilts up in a teasing smirk and the glint in her dark eyes almost has him forgetting to mean it. “Look, my last meeting is at 3:00, then we can go to the bookstore and you can get some better books.”

“Fine.”

Luckily, the bookstore is quiet and mostly empty, just a few customers milling about. Cassian lets Nesta lead the way, following behind her as she weaves between the stacks, her hand outstretched and fingers dragging gently against the spines of the different books. She stops in front of one of the shelves, her head tilting as she reads the different titles declared along the spines. The motion leaves a few wisps of her hair falling across her brow, and Cassian shoves his hands in his pocket before he does something stupid like try to brush them aside. She just looks so soft nestled amongst the books, pulling out different ones and reading the summaries on the backs before settling one in the crook of her arm.

“Wait. If I’m the only one who can see you, does that mean people will just see a floating book?” Cassian asks, stepping forward to pluck the book away. “How about I just hold on to the ones you want.”

“Works for me,” Nesta replies, holding out another book for Cassian to take. Soon, he has five books stacked in his arms.

“The full moon is in a week. Are you really going to read all these books in that time?”

“Cassian?” a voice cuts in before Nesta can reply.

Cassian turns toward the end of the aisle to find Mor standing there, a book nestled in her own arms and her face a mask of confusion. She steps closer, eying the books he’s holding.

“Oh uh hey, Mor,” Cassian greets her.

“You know this is the romance section, right?”

“I... thought I’d branch out. Try a new genre.”

Mor reaches forward, taking the top book off the stack. She stares at the cover before flipping it over to read the summary with a snort. When she holds the book up for Cassian, she has her eyebrows raised, an expression that clearly reads ‘seriously?’ Cassian can’t help but grimace, the cliche shirtless man on the cover staring back at him. Maybe she has a point.

“That’s what I thought,” Mor smirks, setting the book back down on the stack. “So, what’s her name?”

“Her name…?”

“Who you’re actually buying these books for?”

Cassian can feel himself floundering as he stares at Mor with wide eyes. He glances over his shoulder to where Nesta is still standing, but the demon just has an amused expression painted across her face. Not helpful. Cassian turns back to Mor who is still looking at him expectantly, but then her features soften.

“Look, you don’t have to tell me, but I fully expect to meet this girl soon.”

~ * * * ~

Cassian is just finishing pulling his hair up and away from his face when the knock on his door echoes throughout his apartment.

“It’s open,” he calls.

He hears the opening and then subsequent snick of his front door, and when Cassian walks out of the bathroom, he finds Azriel standing in his living room. His brother’s eyes are stuck to the floor, his eyebrows pinched and a frown tugging down his lips.

“Why do you have an air mattress out?” Azriel asks.

Cassian’s eyes snap to the offending object, the mussed sheets and pillow making it clear it’s been slept on. At the snort from the sofa, Cassian’s eyes find Nesta’s where she’s curled up with one of her new books. The expectant look on her face and the smirk tugging up the corner of her lips is all teasing, and Cassian narrows his eyes at her in response before turning his attention back to Azriel. Apparently, Azriel saw the entire exchange, or Cassian’s side of the exchange, and his expression has turned from confusion to concern.

“Cass, is everything alright? You know you can talk to me.”

Cassian rubs a hand against the back of his neck awkwardly before letting out a sigh. “Az… what would you say if I told you… I met a demon?”

“A demon? As in…”

“Demon. Like dark eyes, does biddings. Demon. Her name is Nesta.”

Cassian expects Azriel to ask more questions, maybe even call him out for the absurdity of it all, but instead his brother just steps closer, settling a hand on Cassian’s shoulder.

“Are you getting enough sleep?” Azriel broaches carefully.

“You know what,” Cassian cuts in. “Just forget I said anything. Let’s just go.”

Azriel looks like he wants to say more, but luckily, he doesn’t, and the two make their way to the gym, Nesta trailing behind them. Cassian tries to keep his eyes to himself as they start their workout, determined to avoid any more confused or concerned looks from Azriel. It’s easier said than done, though, and Cassian’s eyes keep drifting to where Nesta has perched herself on one of the lifting benches. It especially doesn’t help that her eyes are decidedly not on him.

Cassian grabs a set of weights and makes his way over to the bench beside her, trying to look inconspicuous as he starts doing chest presses.

“Do you mind?” Cassian mutters.

“It’s not my fault your friend is so attractive,” Nesta remarks dryly.

Cassian doesn’t deem the comment with a response, keeps his expression cool and unbothered. But if he takes off his shirt to finish his workout? It’s just hot in the gym. And if he pushes himself extra hard, doing the exercises that he knows really flex and pull on his muscles? Well, no one has to know.

~ * * * ~

Cassian isn’t sure if Azriel said something, Mor said something, or they both said something, but he tries to push it all out of his mind as he pulls into the driveway at Rhys and Feyre’s house for a declared ‘family dinner.’ He takes a deep breath and turns to where Nesta is sitting in the passenger’s seat of his truck.

“Alright. I don’t need my family thinking I’m crazy, so if we both just play it cool, we should be fine.”

“I’m not the one you need to worry about, and you know it,” Nesta reminds him, throwing open the door and hopping out.

Cassian barely reigns in a sigh as he opens his own door. Mostly because he knows she’s right. But he puts all his focus and willpower into it, and he doesn’t look at Nesta as he greets his friends and family and settles at the table. He loads his plate up and eats, and he doesn’t look at Nesta. He listens as everyone around him talks about their weeks and what’s new, and he doesn’t look at Nesta.

“Cass, are you alright?” Rhy’s voice interrupts Cassian’s thoughts, and his head snaps in Rhys’ direction.

“What? Why would you ask that?” Cassian tosses back, trying to keep his voice light and teasing.

“You’ve been quiet,” Rhys points out. “And we all know you’re never quiet.”

“He’s probably too busy thinking about his new lady,” Mor pipes up.

“New lady?” Rhys asks.

“Oh, yeah, apparently it’s a ‘demon named Nesta,’” Azriel adds, throwing up air quotes.

Cassian is about to tell his family off with a well placed retort, when the loud clatter of silverware hitting a plate echoes through the dining room. All four sets of eyes snap to Feyre who has suddenly gone very still. Her face is pale and her eyes seem to have glazed over, like she’s seen a ghost. The look has Cassian’e eyes darting around the room, but Nesta is nowhere to be found.

“That isn’t funny,” Feyre says, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rhys reaches over, comfortingly squeezing Feyre’s hand in his own. “Nesta was the name of Feyre’s sister.”

“You have another sister?” Mor asks quietly.

“Had,” Feyre explains softly, her hand tightening on Rhys’. “She died a few years back. She was dating this… guy. Tomas. We could never prove it, but I know he was at fault. I know he did it. The one bright spot was some freak accident that happened to him.”

The silence that follows is heavy. It presses against Cassian’s chest and threatens to shatter his ribs until he can’t take it. He stands, the legs of his chair scraping against the hardwood, as he excuses himself. He wanders through the hall until he sees a door slightly ajar, light bleeding into the hallways in a single soft white beam. Feyre’s art studio. He pushes the door open slowly, finding Nesta standing at the easel, staring at the painting perched there.

“She painted me,” Nesta says, her voice hushed and awed. “I know all sisters fight, but sometimes it felt like we were on another level. I didn’t think she’d ever paint me.”

“That deal you made,” Cassian starts, keeping his voice equally quiet. “It was for revenge, wasn’t it?”

Nesta turns then, her dark eyes settling on Cassian. With her spine straight and face set in a cold, hard line, it reminds Cassian of the demon she is. The one he first met standing in his apartment. Power rumbling off her in waves, tendrils of darkness and fire licking at Cassian’s skin until goosebumps break out in their wake. It leaves him breathless.

“Yes.”

[myhockeyworld87]

What Happens in Vegas...Doesn’t Always Stay There - Jacob Markstrom - Part 1

Word Count: 4,885

POV: Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Language, Smut, Drinking (all the good stuff)

Notes: Well here it is the new fic that’s been in my head. I tossed around a couple different guys for this, but some of you suggested Marky and well looks like it stuck. Trying to do this a little different and keep this in an all read POV, so we shall see how that works. I don’t see this being super long maybe between 5 or 6 parts. Hope you guys enjoy. As always feedback is welcome. Happy Reading!

They say that New York is the city that never sleeps but whoever 'they' is, well, they got it wrong. It has to be Vegas. Lights are always flashing whether you were indoors or out, the jangly sound of slot machines can be heard at all hours and the seven deadly sins seem to be on full display twenty-four hours a day. It's no wonder their tagline for years was 'What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.' If only that were true.

You wish you could blame someone else but you can't. Vegas was all your idea. As maid of honor, it fell to you to plan your best friend's bachelorette party, and in your mind, there was only one spot, Vegas. Now, you were second-guessing your choice as your head was pounding like there were a thousand drummers who decided to perform at the Super Bowl halftime show, only in your brain. There was only one thought that made it through the marching band playing in your head. What the hell happened last night?

 Maybe you should start off small, like where were you first, considering that the little drummer boy was now doing backflips in your head. You were definitely in bed, which was evident as you could feel the mattress underneath you. You could also feel the duvet comforter covering your body, but there was something else. Something a bit heavier, almost as if a weighted blanket was covering your stomach and your breast, but it wasn't that. It was an arm slung across your midsection and a very large hand cupping your one boob. God, you hoped it was still attached to a body. You should really take a peek. It would be the only decent thing to do.

 As you gradually lifted one eyelid open, the first thing you noticed was that you were not in your hotel room, as the wall looked completely different. No reason to panic, you told yourself. Everything would come back to you as soon as this god blessed pounding ceased. Peering the other eye open, you got back to business at seeing if there was a body attached to the arm currently trapping you to the bed. Carefully, you turned your head to the side to see a very large and very naked man firmly attached to the aforementioned arm. He was gorgeous as he lay there sleeping ever so peacefully. You drank in his features, kind of like you downed drink after drink last night. His brown hair had this golden hue to it that made your fingers want to reach out and touch it, though you refrained. Then there was the beard covering his face, not too much and not too little, and now that you were thinking about it; you definitely felt some of that beard burn on your thighs. If you could only remember last night. The only logical thing to do was to go back to the start of this, back to a time when you were sober.

 It started months ago when your best friend Kennedy got engaged. You honestly didn't see it coming that fast. She'd only been dating Ryan for a little less than a year, but he asked and she said yes, and when she asked you to be her maid of honor you screamed and laughed and cried, and told her you couldn't wait to plan her bachelorette party. Everyone knew the bridal shower was only for boring stuffy old aunts so that they could buy her the latest air fryer or new dish pattern. The bachelorette party was where all the fun was, and what better place to have it than Las Vegas.

 Of course, everyone agreed with you. The only wrench in the plan was that Kennedy decided to up her wedding date and make it a nine-month engagement. That barely left time to find a dress let alone plan the most outrageous bachelorette party of the century. You would've said decade but twenty-twenty was fastly approaching. Thankfully, you had connections. Night one was more sedate since you all were just arriving at the MGM hotel at different times; eleven of you in total when Ryan's sister decided to join at the last minute. You booked a private room at Lago in the Bellagio for all of you to enjoy.

 It was the second night, that was the piece de resistance. A limo picked you all up and took you over to Excalibur to see the legendary Australian group, Thunder from Down Under. I mean what was Vegas without seeing a male stripper or two. The next day, a private bungalow was waiting for you at Wet Republic in the MGM Hotel. One would've thought the night watching men strip naked would've been your undoing but apparently, it all started poolside.

 "I seriously can't believe he pulled you up on stage and proceeded to dry hump you up there," Kelsey rehashed.

 "Really, Kels?" Kennedy said downing another mimosa. "How could you not see that happening? (Y/N) has known Nate for a couple years. I mean he did get us front row tickets." This was all true. Nate, the emcee for Thunder from Down Under and you were friends, had been since your firm had done their calendar shoot two years ago. He had generously given you prime seating to the show that night and also set you up with a few other perks for the trip. "The only thing I'm surprised at, is that this one," she bumped you with her hip, spilling both hers and your mimosas. "Didn't end up going home with him last night."

 "Oh my god, Kenny you did not just say that." She may be the bride and your best friend but really, she was pushing the line.

 "Come on, it's not like it hasn't happened before."

 At least four pairs of eyes turned towards you, Ryan's sister Gretchen being one of them. "Ok, admittedly, I slept with him, once." Both Kennedy and Kelsey gave you that look. "Ok, maybe it was twice, but he has a girlfriend now, and we are just friends."

 "I'll give you that," Jade spoke up in your defense and suddenly she was going to earn the title of new best friend, not that the lines weren't blurred in your little group as you were all sort of best friends. "But what about Edward, the one with the turtle tattoo on his hip."

 "You were so looking at more than his hip." Eva teased while Jade simply hid behind her champagne glass. "But yeah (Y/N), he was totally hitting on you."

 "He was not."

 "Oh, he was," Kennedy added her two cents. "And as the bride I take offense, they should've been hitting on me."

 "Wait, why would they hit on you?" Jade sputtered. "You're taken bitch." Of course, bitch was said in the most loving way.

 "I'm not dead."

 "No, but I'm sure my brother wouldn't appreciate it." Leave it to Gretchen to be the mood killer. "I think I'm going to go take a nap. I'll meet you at the pool later."

 She headed out the door, and honestly, you were ecstatic about it, for she was too judgmental for your liking.  "Wait, Gretch, that's not what I meant."

 "Leave her go, maybe a nap would do her good." They were Jade's words but your sentiments. "Now back to why (Y/N) did not take that beautiful man up on his offer last night."

 "There was no offer," you insisted.

 "Come on (Y/N), there was an offer. There's always an offer. Remember when you were doing promo for that Batman flick." You tried to shut Kennedy up with a death glare, but she continued to prattle on. "We all know you ended up doing the nasty with Superman."

 "WHAT?!?!" Yeah, that definitely came out of the other nine people's mouths in the room.

 "Thanks, Ken. No one knew that but you."

 "Oops, my bad." She had the grace to at least be embarrassed about the whole thing.

 "You mean you slept with that guy, the British one, tall, all muscular, extremely good looking. Damn it what's his name." You could see Eva wracking her brain for his name and you just didn't want to go there.

 "Hen…"

 "Yes, him," you admitted, stopping Jade before she could finish his name. "Can we please change the subject?"

 "Why, when we are all living vicariously through you," Kelsey added. "Especially poor Kennedy, who is now committed to spending the rest of her life with one man."

 "Geez, you make it sound like a death sentence. I love Ryan and I'm perfectly fine spending the rest of my days with him."

 You had to suppress an eye roll. Not because you didn't think that Ryan and Kennedy weren't in love. If you were being honest, you just thought they were rushing things a bit. The problem was telling your best friend that; you tried in the past and never succeeded. "We know you're in love Kenny." And then because you couldn't stop yourself, you added. "It's just are you sure you want to be tied down so young? We still have our whole life to live."

 "Jesus, (Y/N). We all know you're not ready for marriage and what comes with it, but we can't all be you with your fancy job in LA, meeting celebrities all the time. Some of us have real lives and want to settle down and have a family."

 "Kenny, that's not what I meant." The last thing you wanted to do was argue with her at her bachelorette party. "I only want you to be happy."

 "You have a funny way of showing it." The air in the room took on a chill and not from the air conditioning. If you didn't do something soon this party was going to go downhill.

 "Oh, would you look at the time," Jade chimed in. "We should probably be heading down to the pool." Everyone grabbed their stuff, Kennedy giving you the cold shoulder as you made your way out of the hotel suite. Jade came up and wrapped an arm around you. "She'll be fine. She's just on edge after the whole Gretchen thing. We'll give her a few shots and you two will be good as new."

 "I hope so." Unfortunately, things weren't fine. Kennedy seemed to avoid you and your attempt to make things right, even after a few shots. That didn't stop you from taking a few more. You had a strict one drink to one water rule, that you threw out the door today. Downing shots like it was your job. It was probably an hour later when you were in one of the private pools, with a few of the girls that a large group of very attractive men walked in. They were definitely different from Nate and the guys from Thunder, and at first, you thought it was some fraternity get together with how young some of them looked, but at second glance there were some gentlemen that were your age or older.

 "They've gotta be baseball players," Eva whispered over after they took up residence in the three bungalows next to you.

 "Nah, none of them have a dad bod." Jade was right, they were too fit to be in the MLB. You'd been around enough major leaguers to know while some were incredibly in shape, some were not. That didn't seem to be the case with this group.

 "I'm gonna rule out NFL as well," you told the girls. "None of these guys look like they're an offensive guard. Those guys are huge." You noticed a few of them staring at the six of you that were in the smaller pool reserved only for the bungalows. Grabbing another shot, this had to be your fourth in just sixty minutes, you downed the drink really starting to feel its effects.

 "Looks like we may just find out here," Jade said, nodding to let you know some of the guys were headed your way.

 "Ladies, care if we join you?" One of the men asked, you had to admit he was extremely handsome but also gave off an air that he had more than a few notches in his bedpost.

 A couple of the girls nodded, but when no one said anything, you found yourself saying, "Come on in."

 "So, what brings you to Vegas?" This from a different guy, who had quite a number of tattoos covering his arms, and you had to admit that the ink just made him more attractive, that and his height. He was well over six feet tall and you didn't mind looking up to see his face as he took the seat next to you.

 "Bachelorette party," Jade blurted out and you saw a few eyebrows raise.

 "Tell me you're not the bride?" His breath was warm or maybe it was the sun, either way, you definitely felt a warmth in your belly that wasn't there moments ago.

 "I am definitely not the bride." Shit that sounded desperate. "Though I am the maid of honor, at least I hope I still am." You looked inside the bungalow to see Kennedy in deep conversation with Gretchen.

 "Hmm, sounds like there's a story there. Care to tell me? I'm Jacob by the way, though the guys call me Marky."

 He held out his hand, the one that didn't have a beer in it, and you took it. "(Y/N), and I'll tell you though it's rather dull, on one condition." He quirked a brow at you. "You tell me what sport you play."

 He chuckled. "What makes you think I play a sport? Maybe I'm an investment banker."

 "Well, first there's your accent, though I suppose you could pull off investment banker with that. Second, you are all…how shall I say this…physically fit. A quality most athletes have and considering the number of you; I doubt this is some kind of investment banker convention."

 "Ok, I'll give you that, though we could be bodybuilders or…" the lights on the billboard on the strip changed to a Thunder From Down Under ad and you saw a light bulb in his head go off. "Or male strippers." Shit, you almost spit your drink out on that one. "What, too much a stretch? Maybe it's your lucky day." He started to sway his hips in the pool, one of his friends joining him while you and Jade tried to contain your laughter.

 "Nah, it's already been (Y/N)'s lucky day with them. She knows them all rather intimately."

 "Jade!" you yelled at your friend, or ex-friend, though you weren't in a position to be losing anymore at the moment.

 "Oops." She at least had the decency to look embarrassed. Alcohol made everyone do some crazy things and Jade was no exception to the rule.

 "Intimately huh?" Jacob asked as you splashed water on Jade causing her to shriek and hide behind Jacob's friend who you learned was someone named Erik. "Have I lost the competition before it even starts?"

 "There's no competition."

 "So, you're single then?"

 "Yes, though you still haven't answered my question." As soon as Jacob heard you say yes, he slid a little closer to you.

 "What was that question again?" He said with laughter in his eyes and before you could get annoyed with him, though you doubted that would happen, he added. "I remember, just giving you a hard time. Anyhow, we play hockey."

 "Oh, nice. Like professional level? Or are there minors in that sport?" You really weren't one hundred percent sure. You'd taken in a game here and there but not really paid any particular attention to it.

 "We're in the NHL, playing for Vancouver. Just came out to do a little team bonding before the season starts. So, are we going to talk about this intimate encounter or why you think your maid of honor duties are getting revoked?"

 "I think I need another drink to talk about either of them."

 Jacob flagged down one of the personal waitresses for the area, requesting a couple of shots and drinks for you both, and you had to admit you liked the way he worked. "Now that that's taken care of…"

 You blew out a frustrated breath, more with yourself than anything else. "I said something stupid right before we came down here." He kept silent, his eyes totally focused on you and what you were saying. A refreshing change from some of the men you spoke to. "I just think she's rushing into things. They've only known each other a year and we are too young to get married. She's only twenty-five, we have our whole lives ahead of us. You know?" He simply nodded his agreement before you continued. "I want to see the world, go places, and do things before I'm strapped down to one man forever. Not to mention being tied down with kids. How can Kenny not want that too?"

 "I totally agree. I've gotten to see a lot with hockey but there's no way I want to be tied down just yet."

 "Exactly, you totally get me." Your drinks arrived then and Jacob took one shot and handed it to you before taking the other.

 "Well, I say we toast to being young and free with no commitments."

 "I'll drink to that." He clinked his glass to yours and the two of you downed the drinks. It seemed like the DJ noticed the change in your mood, as the music got louder and the energy seemed to kick up a notch. You got up and started to dance in the pool; the other girls joining in. It wasn't long before you felt Jacob behind you. His hips grinding into your backside, as his large hands encircled your waist.

 Drinks flowed freely the entire day, and if you were being honest, you couldn't remember a time you'd been that drunk before the sun had even set. You were laughing and dancing, and quite literally having the time of your life; your maid of honor duties completely forgotten at this point. Gretchen came up to you at some point and told you that she, Kennedy, and Kelsey were heading up and would catch up with the rest of you later. Everyone else was having too much fun with the Canucks to want to leave.

 A few more drinks and an hour later, the party was winding down. Most of your friends had headed up to their room to pass out, only a few stayed behind. Jacob had somehow maneuvered you into one of the bungalows that was empty. You shared a few kisses here and there out in the pool area, but now that you were out of view of prying eyes things were getting a bit more heated. Jacob's hands were on your ass, as his tongue was down your throat; not that yours wasn't doing the same thing to him. He moaned into your mouth, the sound going straight to your core. Your bikini bottom was no longer wet from the water of the pool, but the press of Jacob's cock against it.

 You both stumbled back, landing down on the large daybed in the bungalow, though somehow Jacob's reflexes softened your fall. His hands went straight to your breasts, kneading the flesh there. He was just about to untie the string of your bikini top when someone walked in. "Jesus, Marky! Take it upstairs would you!" You squinted trying to make out who it was but at this point not remembering anyone's name besides the man that was on top of you.

 "Oh, shit…thought I was in my room." It was funny, you thought the same thing. "Sorry, Jay."

 "His name is Jay? Like the letter?" you mumbled as Jacob helped you off the couch. "What comes after J?" Fuck you were drunk and when you were drunk you tended to ramble. You once actually talked to a damn parking meter because you thought it was a person, and you were pretty sure you could talk to one now if there was one around.

 "Doesn't matter, babe," Jacob said kissing your lips. "Wanna head up to my room?"

 You had to go up on your tiptoes to loop your arms around his neck. "Yes, I do." He planted a kiss on your lips then cupped your ass cheeks causing you to jump a bit.

 "Let's go," he finally said breaking the kiss. You had enough sense to grab your things and tell your friends not to worry that you'd catch up with them tomorrow. They all winked and nodded or at least that's what it looked like in your head because that's when things started to get hazy. You had vague recollections of making your way through the casino, stopping here and there. Part of you thought that the two of you even stopped to play roulette only so you could have another drink.

 You did remember tumbling through the door of Jacob's suite. His lips were on yours and neither of you were paying attention as he unlocked it. Thankfully his quick reflexes caught you; apparently, even when drunk, goalies couldn't lose some of those natural instincts.

 His hands, you remember them being everywhere on your body, and how incredible they made you feel. His calloused touch lit a fire inside you, that had nothing to do with the alcohol. He rid you of your white swim cover-up easily, flinging the garment across the room, and then his lips were all over your body. It was easy to recall the way he made you feel, as he softly bit down on your nipple through the fabric of your bikini. You'd craved this all afternoon. It had been a couple months since you'd been with a man and Jacob was everything you'd been waiting for.

 You ripped off his shirt. Your hands immediately going to his chest and roaming down his tattooed arms. He was all muscle, hard and lean everywhere, but when you slid your hand down inside his swim trunks to his cock; oh, it was hard all right, but lean was not a word you'd used to describe it. You were barely able to wrap your fingers around his girth, and as you stroked him, you realized God had not only blessed him with height but length as well. The man was made to star in a porno, you thought as you shoved his trunks down.

 Somehow, during that time Jacob had managed to get your bikini top off, though you supposed with its simple string ties it wasn't a hard feat to manage. You dropped to your knees, licking your lips before taking your tongue and swirling it around the head of Jacob's cock. "Det kanns sa bra min vackra prinsessa (that feels so good my beautiful princess)." Jacob's mumblings had you pulling back and looking up at him. "Don't stop, baby." This time you knew what he said as you slowly sucked him into your mouth. There was no way that you could take him all in, so you pumped the rest of him with your fist. You hollowed out your cheeks as you sucked him inside, using every trick in the book you knew. Jacob muttered more in Swedish to you, things you had no clue as to what they meant, but judging by his reaction they were things he was enjoying very much. He threaded his hands through your hair, pulling it back so you could look up at him with big doe eyes. "Jesus," he swore, his hips bucking into your mouth at the sight of you with his cock in it, looking like that. After a few more thrusts, he pulled out shouting," Tillrackligt, enough. I think you're trying to kill me, princess."

 There was something about the way he called you princess. It wasn't anything you'd been called before and most times you'd preferred babe or baby, but the way the word rolled off his tongue did things to your insides.

 Jacob helped you off the ground, his lips ghosting over yours before picking you up and tossing you onto the bed. His large form handled you easily, arranging your body just the way he wanted to before slipping off your bikini bottoms. His large hands worked their way from your ankles to your calves, all the way up to your thighs; spreading your legs as he went. "So beautiful." He traced his fingers lightly over your pussy lips and you quivered in anticipation of what was to come. One long finger slid between your folds all the way up to your clit, once, then twice, and then once again. "So wet, prinsessa, and all because of me."

 "Mmm, yes, Jacob." He dipped that same finger inside you then. The digit slipping in easily and so he added another. Then his mouth was there. Tongue flicking over your clit in a way that made you squirm with pleasure. "Oh yes," you moaned, caught up in the pleasure that was coursing through your veins. "Just like that." Your hips lifted up on their own accord, seeking more of what this giant of a man was doing to you. Jacob never let up, making a come-hither motion with his fingers and you found yourself unraveling around him; legs shaking, breath panting as your orgasm overtook you.

 “So pretty when you cum, prinsessa.” He pulled his fingers from your pussy then brought them to your lips. You opened without any thought, licking your juices off of them. Before you could get them clean, Jacob’s mouth joined yours, kissing you while you sucked on his index and middle fingers. Your tongues mingled together, as Jacob positioned himself between your thighs. The head of his cock nudged between your folds and you sighed into his mouth at just that first touch. Slowly, he filled your pussy, until he bottomed out. Only then did he release your lips. “Fuck you feel so good.”

 Jacob loved the feel of you clenching around him. It felt like he was in heaven. Part of him didn’t even want to move that’s how good your body felt, but then you shifted your hips up just a hair bit and he had to suck in a breath at the pleasure that went straight to his groin for fear he would spend inside you right then and there. He willed his body under control and only then started to move.

 With every snap of Jacob’s hips, a wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your nails raked down his back, probably leaving marks, but it seemed to only spur him on. “Yes, Prinsessa,” he moaned out, as you bent your knees allowing him to go deeper. You moaned as he hit that treasured spot that had you seeing stars. “You like that?” Another moan was his answer, as he continued to fuck you.

 That peculiar feeling started to wash over you. Your pussy fluttering around Jacob’s cock as the orgasm finally broke. Back arching, legs trembling, you were moaning out his name as the climax seemed to continue, as Jacob drove wildly into you. As you came down off your high, Jacob found his. With a few erratic thrusts, he was spending deep inside you with a loud groan. He slumped forward, his sweety forehead resting on yours. “Det dar var otroligt.” You looked at him curiously, your brain not working at all but also knowing he was speaking something in Swedish to you. He smiled, a glorious one that you found yourself getting lost in and you found yourself returning it. “I said that was amazing.”

 “Yes, it was,” you breathed out. Jacob rolled you both onto your sides, tucking you into his. It wasn’t long before both of you were passing out.

 Now here you were, finally putting most of the pieces together from last night. You looked back over at the sleeping man, who had given you such pleasure even in your inebriated state. He really was gorgeous. You honestly wouldn’t mind going for round two, after a couple of Tylenol, of course. Speaking of which you needed to get up and see if you had any in your bag. If only you could move him without waking him. You carefully took your right arm and went to move his left which was slung across you, but then something caught your eye. There on his ring finger was a ring. Oh, it wasn’t just any ring, it was a wedding ring! You knew he didn’t have it on when you were in the pool. You were not the type of woman to go hitting on a married man, let alone sleep with him.

 You pulled your other arm out from underneath him, fully intending to grab your stuff and get the hell out of there when you noticed a bright and shiny diamond on your ring finger. There was also a matching wedding band. Then like a tsunami hitting the beach of a small island a memory came flooding back to you of the two of you entering the hotel chapel. This man wasn’t married to just anyone, he was married to you!  

.

[theladyofdeath]

Life As We Know It {Chapter Four}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Getting out of the lease on her townhouse proved to be easier than Nesta had expected. Her landlord was extremely understanding, especially under the conditions. She’d lived in the same place since she was in college, had never given him any trouble. She took care of her own problems, called her own plumbers and electricians, and had always taken it upon herself to fix anything that was wrong, rather than on his dime.

He’d even gotten her a parting gift on the day she moved everything out. A beautiful bouquet of flowers, and his condolences on her family’s loss.

As it was, mostly everything was moved into a storage unit, thanks to the furniture Rhys and Feyre already had in their home. But her clothes and some select important things came with her. 

It felt strange, at first, the moment Nesta carried Nyx through the door. She had just slept there, of course, but it was different this time. 

This time, Nesta was moving in to stay. 

This was no longer Feyre and Rhysand’s house, but Nesta and Cassian’s…and it felt strange, surreal. 

A thump came from upstairs that nearly had Nesta yelping. Nyx looked up at her and her startled expression and blew a raspberry. “What was that, hmm?” Nesta asked, quietly, setting her bag down as she closed the front door with her foot. She carried Nyx up the stairs and rounded the corner to the master bedroom to find Cassian staring at the mostly empty closet with his hands on his hips. “Find something interesting in there?”

“Shit!” he cursed, spinning around to find the pair in the doorway. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that.”

“I can do whatever I want,” Nesta said, plainly. “Especially when it’s in my room.”

Cassian’s brows shot into his hairline. “I’m sorry…your room?”

“Yes,” she said, swapping Nyx from one hip to the other. “I’ve been staying here for nearly three weeks at this point. I’ve been the one here taking care of him.”

“So that entitles you to the master bedroom?” He asked.

“It does,” she replied and Nyx began squirming. She put him down and he began crawling towards Cassian, tugging on the strings of his boots.

Cassian stooped down to pick the baby up, who instantly began patting Cassian’s face, a habit he’d picked up just before Rhys and Feyre’s accident. Cassian grinned down at him, but then he looked back to Nesta. The smile fell as he beheld Nesta watching him with her arms crossed.

Cassian sighed. “Look-.”

“No, no,” Nesta interrupted. “I’m taking this room. I need the space, and I’m a woman, so I would prefer the private bathroom.”

Cassian watched her for a long moment. “Fine.” Nesta was about to turn on her heels to get the rest of her belongings, but then Cassian continued, “But, you have to say please.”

Nesta tensed in the doorway. “What?”

“Say please and it’s yours,” he said, shrugging.

Nyx looked back and forth between Cassian and Nesta.

She blinked, staring at him.

“You heard me,” he said, leaning down to grab his backpack from where he’d dropped it on the floor. He hefted it onto his other shoulder, Nyx still staring between them. “Say please and the room is yours. And make it genuine, I want to believe you.”

“And if I don’t?” She asked, bracing herself for a fight.

He shrugged and tossed his backpack onto the bed. “Then it looks like we’re sharing. Just so you know, I’m a blanket hog.”

She narrowed her eyes, watching as he sat down on the edge of the bed, plopping Nyx down on the mattress next to him. He crawled up to the top of the bed, plopping down atop one of the pillows.

Cassian could have sworn her teeth were grinding as she said, “May I please have the bedroom?”

He smirked, asking, “Was that so hard?” and stood, grabbing his bag again, before brushing past her as he headed down the hall, taking the room across from Nyx’s nursery.

Nesta groaned, closing her eyes and sighing, before she heard the door opening downstairs.

“Hello, hello!”

She scooped Nyx up off the bed, and made her way downstairs, finding Elain, Azriel, Gwyn, Mor and Emerie in the entryway. Mor was wiggling her fingers at Nyx, and Nesta handed him over to her. He giggled as she lifted him in the air and Nesta hugged her friends. “Thank you for coming.” 

“Of course,” Emerie said, taking a look around. “You shouldn’t do this alone.”

Nesta nodded and another thump came from upstairs. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“Cassian’s here already, then?” Azriel asked.

“He’s here and he’s driving me mad,” Nesta muttered. 

Azriel chuckled as he hurried up the stairs, leaving the women alone.

“Okay,” Gwyn said, propping her hands on her hips and looking around. “What do you need us to do?”

Nesta hesitated. There was so much already in this house that felt like it belonged there, so much of Rhys and Feyre that Nesta didn’t feel like she should touch.

As if she was reading her thoughts, Elain stepped forward, slipping her arm through hers. “This is your home now, too. Part of them will always be here, but you have to make it yours now.” Nesta nodded, wiping away the damn tears that kept making an appearance, but jumped slightly when a loud bang came from upstairs and Azriel and Cassian both laughed. Elain added, with a laugh of her own, “Yours and Cassian’s, I guess.”

“I wish I would stop being reminded of that fact,” Nesta said, attempting a joke as she continued to wipe at her damp cheeks. 

“Ignore Cassian?” Emerie chuckled. “That’s impossible. He likes to make himself known too much for that.”

After a chorus of laughter, Nesta was giving everyone a role. It was all just so surreal, too surreal. It was a position that Nesta would have never imagined herself to be in, especially as she opened Feyre’s closet and stared. 

Nesta had always admired Feyre’s style, even though most of her jeans had paint splatters on them. She reached up to go through the series of band tees hanging on the top rod. She chuckled at one from the Jonas Brothers concert that they’d gotten back in 2011. Nesta had taken Elain and Feyre one weekend when their dad was out of town on business. She’d bought them both t-shirts and cds and overpriced sodas from the arena’s concession stand. 

It had been a good night.

And Feyre had kept the t-shirt for ten years, even though there was a coffee stain on Nick Jonas’ face and a rip in the hem. Nesta took the shirt off the hanger and held it up. It was too small for her. It would never fit.

Nonetheless, Nesta folded the shirt neatly and put it on top of the dresser before taking down the rest of Feyre’s clothes and folding them into a bin.

She hadn’t realized the tears had returned until Emerie and Gwyn came in, the former holding a sleeping, drooling Nyx. 

Feyre’s closet had been nearly emptied. Neither of Nesta’s closest friends said a word as they entered and sat next to Nesta on the bed, one of them on each side.

Silently, they pulled Nesta into their arms.

*

Cassian looked at the broken bed frame in the guest room. 

He and Azriel started roughhousing the moment he’d come up the stairs, and it resulted in the old, rickety bed unable to hold two untamed Illyrians.

Does this mean I won?

You’ve never won in a wrestling match with me, Cass.

Looking at it now, however, Cassian was wondering how he’d take the rest apart without waking Nyx up from his afternoon nap.

“How many times have we slept in this room after a night of drinking too much?” Azriel asked.

Cassian chuckled from where he was putting his clothes in the small, empty dresser. “Too many. Feyre wouldn’t let us drive after even one drink at dinner.”

Azriel chuckled, quietly. “She always was a mother hen, long before Nyx.” 

“She had to be,” Cassian said, “look at Rhys’s choice of friends.”

Azriel grinned. “Speak for yourself.” 

He snorted. “Need I remind you of Spring Break, senior year?”

The grin fell slightly into a cringe. “Okay, maybe there are times that I fall into that category as well.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. He looked back at the bed, even the bedding somewhat in shambles. “Haven’t even lived in the house for an hour and we already broke something.”

Azriel chuckled, following his gaze. “Rhys would be proud.”

Grinning, Cassian nodded. “Feyre would have our asses.”

They worked in silence, for a while, listening to the women’s voices throughout the house.

At one point, Cassian could hear Nesta sobbing quietly from the room down the hall.

His shoulders tensed.

Azriel must have seen it, because he cleared his throat. “You know, Elain says Nesta’s not so bad.”

“And what do you think?” Cassian asked, tossing his empty duffle bag in the corner. 

Azriel was quiet for a moment then shrugged. “I’ve never had an issue with her.” Cassian huffed a laugh. “Yeah, well, you never have issues with anyone.” He shook his head as he leaned back against the wall. “I feel like I’m living a dream right now. I have no idea what’s happening, and it’s all happening way too fast.”

It was happening far too quickly. Everything. All of it.

Cassian felt like he was in the middle of a hurricane, lost and alone and confused with no end in sight.

*

Everyone had left, and only the three of them remained.

Nesta, Cassian, and Nyx.

Nesta realized this is how it would be from now on, and that realization made her chuckle out of pure absurdity. 

Cassian had asked to put Nyx to bed, and Nesta didn’t argue as he took him from her, from where Nyx had fallen asleep in Nesta’s arms on the couch.

She watched them disappear up the stairs, and she wasn’t really sure what to do after that, where to go. Should she just have gone back to her room, shut herself inside, and pretend that nothing else existed?

Cassian came back down the stairs just as Nesta stood up. As he reached the bottom, they acknowledged each other, uncomfortably.

“Well,” Nesta began, nodding slowly. “I guess I’ll be going to bed.”

Cassian didn’t say anything until she had brushed past him and gone halfway up the stairs. “Don’t you think that we should, you know, set some ground rules?”

She paused. “Like what?”

“Like who takes care of what?” He asked. “Who gets what nights off and-?”

“Nights off?” Nesta asked, blinking. “We have to take care of a child, Cassian. We don’t get nights off.”

“You know Az and Elain still go out once in a while. As long as one of us is here to watch him, he’s taken care of,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I would like to be able to go out on a Saturday night, with Az and Luce, so-.”

“Why would you get Saturday night?” She asked, her eyes widening. ���I spend all day at the restaurant, all week long. If anyone gets Saturdays, it’s me. Besides, you’re a bartender, shouldn’t you be working those nights?”

“Friday nights are my money nights, so no, I’ll be off,” he said, crossing his arms. His legs widened slightly, and Nesta knew a fighting stance when she saw one.

“So I’m supposed to take Friday nights? How’s that going to work, if you’re at the bar, Cassian?” Cassian hesitated, and Nesta scoffed. “See? That won’t work.”

“You can take Sunday nights,” Cassian said, at last.

“The night before I have to wake up at five to be at the restaurant by six?” Nesta asked. “Oh, thank you so much for that kindness.”

Cassian’s eyes narrowed. “Your sarcasm isn’t necessary. And two minutes ago you thought the idea of a night off was ridiculous, anyway!”

“Well, if you get a night off, so do I!” Nesta yelled.

Cassian raked a frustrated hand through his hair. “Fine. How about we switch saturdays? You get two Saturday’s a month, and I get two Saturday’s a month.”

She clamped her mouth shut, fighting the urge to grind her teeth together. “Fine.”

He nodded. “Fine.”

They both stayed where they were, not moving or giving up an inch of ground.

“I’m going to go to bed then,” she said, the bite still in her voice.

“Goodnight then,” he said, and though the words were civil, they were still sharp. It was almost humorous.

“Goodnight.” With that, she turned and was stomping up the stairs.

She could feel Cassian’s eyes on her and she disappeared.

The audacity. 

She was fully aware that Cassian was full of himself, but wanting every Saturday night off?

She knew it.

He wasn’t ready for this, wasn’t ready for the responsibility of raising a child. She couldn’t expect him to be, though. Shit, she wasn’t ready, either. The only difference was that she was starting to learn all that being a guardian entailed and he surely was not.

She shut the bedroom door behind her, and considered locking it, but decided not to and looked at the clock.

it was barely eight-thirty, but she was exhausted. That had been the past few weeks though, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been awake at ten o’clock. She leaned against the shut door, letting her head fall back.

If she listened hard enough, she could hear him moving downstairs. Heard the fridge open and knew he was pulling one of Rhysand’s beers out. Nesta sighed, wishing she had thought to get at least a glass of wine before she’d shut herself in here.

If she went back out now, she’d look stupid. And she’d have to talk to Cassian again.

Not over her dead body.

So she did the next best thing, filling the massive garden tub in the corner of the bathroom, and settled into it. She sighed, letting the hot water seep into her bones.

And then there was a knock on the bedroom door.

She sunk deeper in the tub. “What?” She called, eyeing the open bathroom door.

There was a pause. “Is it time for Nyx’s bedtime bottle?”

Nyx was cut down to two bottles a day: one in the morning and one at night. Although he had been getting breast milk before the accident, Nesta had already worked through the remaining breast milk that had been in the freezer.

That morning had been his first formula bottle.

He’d been confused at first. Surely there was a difference in taste. However, Nyx eventually realized he wasn’t getting anything else and drank it down, anyway. 

“Was he fussing?” Nesta asked.

There was a thump against the door and Nesta assumed Cassian had fallen into it. “Yeah. Wasn’t crying, but he was about to.”

“Yeah. Formula is on the counter in the kitchen. Check his diaper first,” Nesta said.

She didn’t hear a response, so she assumed he’d gone to handle it, when a few minutes later another knock sounded. This time it was accompanied by a frantic crying.

She was out of the tub, grabbing a towel and digging through a box she’d packed the night before for her robe. Just as Cassian started talking, she got to the door, pulling it open.

He paused, taking in her attire, or lack thereof. Nyx was still crying, which knocked him back into motion. He raised his hand, holding up an empty bottle. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt-.”

She took the bottle, shaking her head, and brushing past him to head down the stairs. She didn’t snap at him, not when she knew he’d never had to prepare a bottle before. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t irritated.

“You couldn’t read the directions on the back of the box?” she asked, then muttered. “Just like a man.”

When she looked back over her shoulder, Cassian was close behind, Nyx tugging on the end of his shaggy hair as he wailed. If he heard Nesta, he didn’t deign to reply. 

Nesta sighed, carrying the bottle over and filling it with water from a newly opened jug on the counter. “You don’t have to warm it up anymore. He can drink it with room temperature water. It’s pretty easy. Fill it up to the eight ounce mark on the bottle, measure four scoops of formula and dump them in.” She did just that, measuring out each scoop carefully but quickly. “Then shake.” She handed the bottle to Cassian, who started shaking the bottle.

“How long do I shake?” he asked.

Nesta almost wanted to laugh at how frantic, how wild-eyed he looked. Here was Cassian Nazari, shaking a bottle with a screaming baby on his hip. “That’s good. Just give it to the poor kid.” 

Nyx snatched it from Cassian as he lowered it towards his face, holding it on his own. Cassian’s hand hovered close by and he looked up at her. “Can he do that? I mean, should I let him? Or should I hold it?”

Her face softened as she watched her nephew, his tears stopping almost immediately. “He’s fine. Maybe use a hand to support it just in case, but he can handle it.”

He nodded, looking down at the baby as well. His blue eyes were wide as he watched them, glancing from Nesta to Cassian, and back.

He said, softly, “I wonder if he realizes they aren’t coming back yet.”

The words nearly broke Nesta’s heart. Her words were as quiet as his. “ I don’t know… That’s not exactly something you can explain to a one-year-old.”

His nod was slow. “It doesn’t seem fair. They didn’t deserve this.”

Nesta’s throat was tight as she started back toward the stairs. “Life isn’t always fair, Cass. The Cauldron isn’t always fair.”

[isabellabrodar]

Rely on You✖️JJ Maybank✖️

word count: 1573

warnings: mentions of alcohol and drugs, death/loss

JJ Maybank x Reader; JJ Maybank x John B’s sister

Everyone in my family has left me at some point. My mother ditched us for Colorado when my brother and I were only three years old. John B took that pretty, hard but I knew we were better off without her. Caring for her children wasn’t really a strength of hers anyways, so we barely talk about her now.

Then our dad went away to find the lost gold on the Royal Merchant and never came back. This time the loss of a parent broke me. I didn’t dare hope that he was just stranded somewhere, slurping on a coconut and waiting until someone comes to get him and although his body never was found, John B and I silently agreed on moving on. Accepting that your dad died isn’t the easiest thing for two teenagers to do. So I tried to lose myself in school stuff and John B took over our household. I think it was just his way of coping with the situation, but it became annoying pretty quickly. Every time our friends came over, it seemed like he was trying to prove that he was taking care of me.

And then he died. Or at least we all thought he and Sarah did. But turns out they were alive the whole time and now everything can go back to normal. But losing almost everyone that you have learned to rely on hurts you in a way that cannot be undone.

I was gripping the red plastic cup tightly as I tried to make my way through the dancing and drinking crowd. My eyes were moving rapidly over every face nearby, searching for my brother’s hazel eyes and curly brown hair. But I didn’t see him. So I pushed further into the mass of people until I passed a group of Kooks, standing on the edge of the boneyards, seeming to be staring at a girl dancing her heart out only a couple of feet away. I usually would’ve said something to them but I just walked by, my breathing becoming quicker as I whispered John B’s name over and over again.

When I felt a strong hand grab my shoulder, I turned around in a quick motion.

“John B?” I said before I looked into clear blue eyes.

“No, Y/N. He left about five minutes ago with Sarah. They’re fine.” JJ’s voice was calm but his look was drenched with worry and his grip didn’t loosen up as my breathing slowed down a bit.

“Sorry, J. I…I just didn’t know where he was. I was…I am sorry.” I felt a small tear of relief roll down my cheek as the panic started to die down and JJ moved to put a strand of my dark brown hair behind my ear.

“It’s okay. No need to apologize, smarty. We’ll go home yeah? I’ll get Kie and Pope.” I could hear a slight slur in his words, probably coming from more than just a couple of beers. Other than that he sounded tired and I knew that was my fault.

“No, J. I can get home by myself. Let them enjoy themselves, I don’t want to ruin the whole evening.” I put the empty cup on a rock wall next to me and straightened out my white summer dress. JJ looked me up and down once and then shook his head. I knew he wasn’t going to let me walk home alone after that panic attack.

“I’ll tell Pope that we’re going home. Meet you at the truck.” And before I could argue once more, JJ was already on his way over to our friends who were chatting with some other Pogues that I had seen before at school. So I went back into the crowd and saw that one of the Kooks from earlier was now dancing with that one girl and his friends weren’t staring anymore but looking around for something or better someone else to watch. I made my way over to my old truck, dodging several elbows and spilling drinks, while thinking about all the other times the panic had taken a hold of me and JJ had been there to help me.

Our friendship used to be very easy, I would say. We met through John B in third grade and have been inseparable ever since then. With the others we would go surfing almost every day but when it came to talking about serious matters, JJ and I usually kept to ourselves. Occasionally I had noticed the forming bruises on his cheeks or ribs whenever he came back from his house, but he always said it was nothing or an accident and I didn’t pressure him into telling me more, although I made it a point to come with him to his house as often as I could, so his dad wouldn’t get a chance to touch JJ.

And in return JJ didn’t ask about my nightmares that would wake me up every night after we thought John B and Sarah died. He’d move closer to me on the mattresses that we put into the living room for us four to sleep on. Kie and Pope mostly slept at their houses though, which was good, because then I didn’t have to explain myself to even more people. The problem is, that even after my brother and Sarah came back, the nightmares didn’t stop and I started having panic attacks when I felt like I lost them again. Just like at the party. And since JJ was the only person who knew about that, he felt obligated to take care of me.

This is pretty far away from us calling each other smarty and pretty boy, reducing each other to what people mostly noticed about us and never talking about anything besides parties, surfing and how many grams of weed we would need to get for the next tour on the HMS Pogue.

I grabbed a hoodie from the passenger seat of my truck and closed the door again when I heard footsteps approaching.

“You know I am fine. No need to deprive all these pretty girls from their favorite pretty boy.” I said in a mocking but tired tone whilst nodding my head towards the dancing crowd. JJ was now standing next to me, smiling.

“They can wait ‘till the next party. Let’s go home.” He held out his arm for me to loop mine around and then we started walking through the Cut. This kind of intimacy between us had become normal, but it never seemed to be anything besides friendship and we were both grateful for that. The summer air was cold on my legs and small goosebumps started to form on my skin.

“You really need to wear more… I don’t know, fabric I guess.”

“You sound like my dad. Or worse, like John B.” A small laugh escaped his lips as we made our way further along the street, arms still intertwined.

“I think you should talk to him about your nightmares.”

“And I think you should tell your dad he can rot in hell.” He let go of me and put a little distance between us.

“Damn, Y/N, I get it. Don’t talk to John B then.” It always came to this. Both of us telling the other what to do and to confront their problems, but we couldn’t do it and then we would get pissed off at each other, but that’s just the way our friendship worked.

We got to John B and I’s house a couple minutes later, which we had spent in silence. I opened the door and went straight towards John B’s room. The light was turned off already and I saw him and Sarah sleep peacefully. That’s when my heart beat finally went completely back to normal. When I stepped into the living room I saw JJ sprawled across one of the big mattresses. He was still wearing his clothes but that didn’t seem to matter to him.

“I’m going to sleep in my room today, J.”

He mumbled a quiet “ok” and turned his back towards me as I stepped past him.

I was standing on the beach and watched John B and my dad go into the waves on a small boat. Then thunder started and the heavy rain made it hard to see anything out on the ocean. There was lightning and then suddenly the sound of the thunderstorm stopped as I saw the lightning hit the boat that my family was on. Then they were just gone.

I woke up, breathing heavily with sweat on my forehead. My room was dark but I could hear quiet steps coming towards my bed. I scooted over to the side and started to relax as JJ planted himself next to me, still fully clothed. I laid back down and closed my eyes as the boy next to me but his arm over my side and started to calmly breathe onto my neck. This is something that has happened a lot the past two months. Always the same dream, the same horror in which I woke up and then JJ being there and helping me back to sleep just by getting closer. But this scared me. How can I let myself rely on him when everything that causes me pain comes from the people that I am closest to disappearing, getting hurt or leaving?

✖️Soo, I usually don’t write but I just wanted to try it. I know this is not a complete story or whatever and it’s kind of all over the place, but if you guys like it, then I might rewrite it or add more:)

[bookishofalder]

Night Changes [Epilogue]

Summary: The end.

Warnings: Language, smut, excessive fluff.

Poe always woke to the sound of ocean waves. Many times mixed with the noises Charlie made waking up, her soft cries pulling him from his sleep, or otherwise the sound of you soothing her. He tried to wake before you so that you could sleep in—he still felt he owed you so much time and rest for having to raise her on your own for so long.

Most days, he did naturally awaken before both of his girls. He would spend a few moments admiring you in the golden light of dawn that filtered through the soft linen curtains, enjoying the feel of your body warm against his, before slowly raising to creep from the room and go to Charlie in her nursery.

Today, however, he didn’t need to leave. Charlie was currently asleep in the guest room of their bungalow, a happy home on Yavin-4 that sat right along a sleepy beach. She was spending quality time with her visiting Aunt and Uncle—Rey and Finn. They’d insisted on the sleepover, claiming they wanted practice caring for a baby for when they were ready to have their own. You had hurriedly handed Charlie over, laughing, and wished them luck.

The house had been designed long to ensure most rooms could take advantage of the view of the water; Poe and you were on the opposite side from the guest room. Far enough that they couldn’t hear any crying if Charlie was awake. But Poe trusted his hapless friends, he wasn’t worried in the slightest.

And it meant he got extra alone time with you, uninterrupted.

Settling on Yavin-4 had been a desire you and Poe shared, the decision coming quickly when he first found you on Sorgan and the discussion of next steps came up. Dad was glad to move back, though he did sell his place and had a room next to the guest room, preferring to stay close to Charlie. Combined, the money you inherited from your parents, your brother, the family house you’d sold, and Poe’s money, the Dameron family was more than comfortable to retire and live peacefully on their home planet.

Poe built you a beach house, in a quiet corner of the jungle that was close enough by speeder to a mid-sized town, with a school for Charlie and markets, shops, a cantina. Aside from the occasional distant air traffic, his home was filled only with the sounds of the ocean, the giggles of his little girl and you, his dads' booming laugh. Charlie was nearly three now, and she was the happiest kid, full of attitude and drama but somehow it was so easy to make her smile, and Poe was the best at it. She was a daddy’s girl, you had said, not realizing how much that meant to him to hear.

As he stretched, you gave a soft snore next to Poe and an idea struck him. It had been a while since he’d last eaten you out while you slept, and his cock began to harden at the thought. With careful movements, he shimmied down the bed and ducked his head under the bedsheet, moving between your legs gently. Neither of you ever wore clothing to bed, so it made it easy for Poe to begin kissing your inner thigh as his hands spread your thighs.

When he had you bared, pretty and glistening, he resisted the urge to dive in and instead very slowly began to lap at your folds. Fuck, you always tasted delicious, he really could eat you out for hours happily, drinking you down like a fine wine. He licked at you for a while, his cock pressing into the mattress, only growing harder the wetter you got for him. When he finally pressed one finger into you, he felt you stir and smiled, keeping his movements slow as he gently sucked your clit.

“Shit,” You whimpered, your hips rolling at the same time your hands ripped back the covers, revealing Poe where he lay between your thighs. He grinned up at you, pressing his face harder against your core and licking, his tongue sliding over the sensitive nub as he worked a second finger inside of you. “Poe, I’m so close...”

He growled in response to your words, curling his fingers to hit that spot inside of you that made you see stars, and he felt the wet convulsions of your orgasm hit, listened to the sounds of your moans. He kept his eyes on your face, delighting in the way your pleasure contorted your expression, your brows furrowed and your lower lip between your teeth. He worked you through the high, swallowing everything you gave him until you collapsed back into the cushions.

“Wow,” You breathed heavily, and Poe crawled up next to you on the bed with a smirk. “Haven’t had a wake-up call like that in a while. Do you think Finn and Rey would stay a few days more?”

Poe laughed, “Actually, I do. They’re obsessed with Bug,” He leaned down and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “Now, sweet girl, you think you can take my cock, now that I’ve warmed you up?” He whispered low in your ear, and you moaned in response.

Poe rolled you on top of him, then pushed himself up the bed so that he was sitting against the headboard and you were straddling his lap. Your hands automatically traced along the muscles of his chest, tickling slightly when you lowered them to his abs. Once he was settled, you reached down further and took hold of him, grinning when he groaned aloud at the feel of you squeeze his cock, then raised your hips, beginning to sink yourself onto him.

“Fuck, Poe,” Your head lolled back as you worked to take him, while Poe watched you, his hands now gripping your hips. He dropped his gaze to your soft stomach, his mind suddenly moving toward a thought he’d been holding back from you, not sure if it was the right time to bring it up. Things were so perfect, now, that he didn’t want to upset the balance.

But if Poe was being honest, he had been imagining Charlie having a sibling. The idea of making another baby with you, seeing you swell and getting to be there for the entire pregnancy, the birth, had been on his mind a lot lately. Now, as you sat in his lap, his cock fully splitting you, the thought of getting you pregnant made him pulse with desire. He leaned forward and took your nipple into his mouth, groaning as you began to roll your hips.

“Sweet girl,” He sighed, kissing a trail up your chest and neck, “So perfect, always so perfect for me.” He raised one hand to your head, pushing into your hair and gripping you, angling your head to capture your lips against his as he snapped his hips up to meet you.

You whimpered with each thrust, the sounds swallowed by Poe as he kissed you hard, trying to hold back his thoughts, distracting himself. He should have known it would never work on you—you could read him like a book.

“P-Poe, baby,” You pulled back a little, hips slowing, “What’s going on? You’re far away.” Your pupils were blown wide, skin flushed deliciously.

“It’s nothing,” He felt you drop your weight, settling into his lap but stilling your movements entirely. Your hands reached up from his chest to cup his cheeks, and you frowned at him. “Honestly, sweetheart.”

“It’s not like you to lie to me, Poe Dameron,” Your eyes searched his for a moment, then your frown brightened and you gave him a soft smile. “Would you just say it, flyboy?”

He stared at you, “Say...say what?”

You giggled, both of you gasping slightly at the way your cunt squeezed him in response. “I’ve caught you staring at me, a few times recently. Noticed that you get lost in thought, but then just smile and hide it away. I’m your wife,” You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, “You can say anything to me.”

Poe nodded, dropping his hands to your waist, “I know, it’s just, things are so fucking perfect,” He replied, his eyes locked on yours, “I don’t want to say something that makes you feel like I don’t think it is.”

“You won’t, I promise.”

He bit his lip, gazing at you in all of your beautiful glory; the sun streaming through the open window bathed you in the golden morning light, your eyes bright and every stunning curve bared to him. Why the two of you always found yourselves having serious discussions amid sex, he’d never understood.

“I want another baby—I’ve been thinking it for a while, but I just haven’t been sure how to mention it.” He broke off, glancing away from you to look out at the ocean, the waves fairly calm this morning. You leaned your head down, catching his eyes again, and smiled widely at Poe. His heart stuttered nervously in his chest.

“Oh, my love,” You cooed, brushing one hand through his hair, “Even when we don't realize it, we’re always on the same page. I’d love to have another baby.”

Poe let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, “Are-are you sure, sweet girl?”

Your smile never faltered, the warmth in your eyes so intense he swore he could feel the heat of it—of you. “I’ll go this week to see the Healers, have them remove my implant.” And before he could reply, your lips were on his and you started to roll your hips, clenching tight around him perfectly, deliciously.

Your movements were filled with intent, sending Poe the message that you were serious, that you felt the same. His heart swelled, the happiness flowing through him almost overwhelming—how had he gotten so lucky, with you? He didn’t understand, still to this day, how he deserved you. And yet every day you continued to show him how strong your love was, right down to understanding his thoughts before he did.

“Fuck,” He hissed against you, pressing his forehead into yours as you rode him, “Going to keep you full of my cum, sweet girl, fuck you every chance we get.”

Your whimper was enough to drag Poe towards the edge, that feeling of falling upward in your arms so close he had to quickly lower one hand to rub circles over your clit—he never left you wanting. He punched his hips up, groaning, picturing how you’d look carrying another baby, remembering how horny you had been when you were pregnant with Charlie—

“Poe, I’m cumming—oh,” your legs gave out as you came, the rush of wetness spilling over his lap and Poe came hard, grunting before he slammed your hips down and held you still. You had fallen against Poe, your head in the crook of his neck as you convulsed around him and he filled you deeply, pulsing in your tight heat. His body melted into yours and for just one moment it was like you and he were one, every breath of air from his lungs going into yours until he collapsed back against the headboard.

You stayed curled into his chest, gasping for air. Poe held you, even as he began to soften within, and stroked your hair gently. The breeze off the ocean cooled your sweat-coated skin, but since Charlie was with Rey and Finn, he figured he could coax you into the large ensuite bath for a long, relaxing shower.

“I love you, Poe,” You whispered, your head turning slightly so that you were looking up at him, your head still resting against his shoulder. “I didn’t know life could be like this.”

Poe met your gaze and smiled softly at you, brushing his hand across your face, “Sweet girl, I’m going to grow old with you.” He murmured, pulling you in for another kiss, languid and slow before he would start another day in paradise with his little family.

—

When life had finally settled on Yavin-4 for you and Poe—the house finished, Kes all moved in and Charlie adjusted to the new planet, your husband began to have nightmares.

At first, he never said anything to you about them. He acted as if they didn’t happen, but you were a light sleeper because of Charlie, so you always woke up. He didn’t speak, but he would toss around, whimper, his eyes moving rapidly beneath the lids. You knew he saw Temmin die, other friends too—and Leia, she hadn’t made it either. So many had been lost, and he told you how close it had been, how he almost hadn’t made it himself. He’d been through so much after you had gone to Sorgan, you weren’t surprised he had trouble easing into a life where the biggest decisions were about dinner or who was going to get up in the middle of the night to soothe the baby.

You let it happen for a week, hoping that once he settled in more and realized this was life now, they would fade. But you think his pretending they didn’t exist only made it worse, so eventually, you brought it up—and he’d been upset that he had been keeping you up at night. The war was won; but it didn’t take away any of the pain of losses suffered, the hardships he’d had to endure, and yet he’d offered to sleep in the guest room for a while, so you could get some sleep.

You had dismissed that idea immediately and told Poe that if he couldn’t get a good night’s rest then you didn’t need to either. And that was how it ended up that most nights, he’d wake up in a cold sweat and you would roll over and pull him in your arms and he would talk to you.

Poe would tell you everything that happened.

As the nights wore on, the stories became shorter, funnier, some just small memories from passing moments. But the nightmares became less intense, and within three months, they had stopped altogether. And you knew the details of every single moment of his life while you had been on Sorgan, every fight and sacrifice and close call. His mistakes, his triumphs, his fear—and the love he felt for Finn and Rey, for their friendship and loyalty.

It only managed to bring you closer to Poe, who by day showed only a happy, brave face for Charlie, becoming vulnerable in the dark of night, bare in your arms, whispering his story. The thing was, the amount of honesty meant that it was tough to keep things from one another—you could always read each other; now you could have silent conversations from across a room.

You loved how well you and Poe understood each other, but it was really damn inconvenient right now.

It had been a few months since Poe had told you he wanted another baby. It hadn’t come as a shock to you; you’d been thinking the same, wondering when it would feel like the right time, and then he had started acting strange and you managed to get him to confess, suspecting he was picturing another baby in the mix. Poe was true to his promise of having you all the time—every spare moment he could get, he was on you.

Charlie had been a beautiful surprise. This time, you could have fun with the process, which ended up including some fun dates. He’d fucked you behind the cantina in town during a rare night out for drinks. He brought you on beach picnics and you’d ride him on the sandy shore. You’d excuse yourself to go to the fresher and he’d appear out of nowhere and bend you over the counter, fuck you deep and quick before filling you, smacking your ass before he’d slip back out of the room with his cocky smirk.

It was very sexy. You kept letting it happen even though for a while now it wasn’t exactly necessary. You were twelve weeks along, and so far you’d managed to keep it a secret from Poe. You wanted to surprise him, trusting your curves to hide any physical evidence of the pregnancy. Because he was such a good dad, you were able to sneak away when he was preoccupied with Charlie to hurl or splash cool water on your face to quell a hot flash. You were lucky not to suffer too much from morning sickness, though you know you’d pay for that in the final trimester—when you were pregnant with Charlie, you felt like an oversized womp rat for weeks, barely able to stand, wobbling around, sweating constantly.

Today was special and so you’d saved the news to share. It was Poe’s birthday, something he wasn’t ever big on celebrating making it the perfect occasion to share the surprise. You were sat at the large outdoor table with Poe, Kes and Charlie, feet bare on the warm sand, the sky slowly turning indigo as the sun set below the horizon. Dinner was finished, and Charlie was starting to get sleepy, though she was in the toddler stage where fighting off sleep like it was a wild loth cat was the only way to survive.

“Well, sweetheart, thank you for a perfect birthday dinner,” Poe reached his hand across the table to take yours, squeezing slightly as he gazed at you and Charlie, who was in your lap playing with your hair. “Low key, no presents, just good food and family.”

Kes nodded next to his son, clapping Poe on the back, “Good food and family is what life is all about, that was what your mother believed.”

When Poe turned to his dad to reply, you glanced down at Charlie and grinned, lowering your voice, “Bug, can you do something for mummy please?”

Your clever girl smiled, her eyes lighting up immediately at the idea of helping her mother—she was a sweet kid, “Yep yep yep!” She chirped, her little fists coming up to clap against either side of your face gently.

You leaned your head next to hers and pitched your voice to a whisper, giving her the simple instructions. You repeated yourself to make sure she understood and watched as she began to nod aggressively, her brows pinching together in serious focus. You’re not sure she fully grasped what she was saying, which made it funnier when she climbed off your lap and ambled around the table to tug on Poe’s arm.

Poe glanced around at her, his smile breaking wide, “Hi bug, want some cuddle time with daddy?” He picked her up and settled her on his lap as you watched, trying to hold back your smirk. Kes was watching with a faraway, content expression—you think he had an idea of what was coming.

“No daddy,” Charlie replied, her face still scrunched up and serious, “You listen! Listen.” She repeated, dragging the word out as she glared up at Poe, who chuckled, his eyes seeking yours.

He gave you a questioning look and you shrugged innocently. Charlie reached for Poe’s face, patting his jaw so that he would focus on her, “Okay, Bug, what is it?”

“I am a big sitter.”

Poe arched a brow down at her while you clapped a hand over your mouth to hide your giggle, “A big sitter, Bug?”

Charlie bounced up and down excitedly, “Daddy, big sitter—I’mma big sitter!”

Still frowning, Poe glanced up at you again, this time his expression entirely mystified, “Do you understand her?” His voice was slightly strained with the effort of holding back a laugh at her silliness.

You nodded, grinning broadly across at him before looking at Charlie, “Bug, remember how mummy said the word? Sister—“

Charlie’s eyes widened in understanding, “Sister! Daddy, I’m a big SISTER!” She yelled the last word in triumph, her lips forming the word as Poe brushed some of her hair back from her face fondly. You watched as he froze, his mouth opening in surprise, and then slowly looked back at you.

You gave yourself away because a few tears had slipped out watching the exchange, so when Poe’s eyes met yours understanding flashed across his expression. Kes was the first to speak, his hands clapping together in glee, “That’s wonderful news, Bug! A big sister? Wow!” He swooped out of his seat, plucking Charlie from Poe’s arms, “I think you are nearly ready for bed, and mummy and daddy need some grown-up time—say goodnight!”

“NIGHT!” Charlie yelled, waving frantically while grinning up at Kes. He winked at you before turning to make his way up the beach and into the house, leaving you alone with your stunned husband, who was sitting perfectly still.

“You still with me, flyboy?” You took a sip of water, watching as he stood up from the table, a hand swiping through his curls. He was by your side in a flash, dropping to his knees next to your seat and turning you to face him.

“Sweetheart,” He breathed, his eyes shining with tears, “Are you—really, you’re pregnant?”

You cupped Poe’s face, his stubble tickling your hands, “Happy birthday, Poe. I know you said no gifts—“

Poe cut you off, raising slightly on his hunches to press his lips to yours. When he pulled back, his cheeks were wet, “How far along?” His eyes fell down your body, gazing questioningly, lovingly, at your stomach.

“Twelve weeks.”

“Wow,” He murmured, dropping his hands to run over the curves of your torso, “Sweet girl, this is the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten.” His eyes were soft, the honey of them still visible in the light from the candles on your dinner table.

You tilted your head, “Even better than the year Charlie snuck you that vat of Corellian wine?”

Poe barked out a laugh at the memory, “Shit, he and I were drunk for a week straight,” He leaned into you, kissing gently along your jaw as you giggled, “That comes in a close second to this, I think.”

Still laughing, you wrapped your arms fully around Poe and kissed him again. He tugged you off your chair and into his lap, sitting back onto the sand as the inky blue sky shined above with stars and the ocean played its soft melody.

“I love you, Poe.” You whispered, sighing in blissful content.

He held you in his arms and kissed you like it was the first time again, full of passion and emotion. You rolled your hips to indicate you were happy to stay out on the beach for a little while, a soft moan on your lips.

Poe chuckled warm and low, his hands falling to the waist of his pants. “Oh, sweet girl, I love you too.”

A/N: *Sobbing* Thank you so much for reading this series, I hope you loved reading it as much as I loved writing it. Thank you for the reblogs and kind comments, you guys are the best!

Taglist

@mermaidxatxheart @foxilayde @eleinemk @paintballkid711 @mylifeisactuallyamess @20th-centu-fairy-girl @deitysnips @cannedsoupsucks @ubri812 @poedameronloverx @hoeforthefictional @astrological-bitch @itsnottilly @itsdameron @alex-sulli @generousrunawaydonut @wildmoonflower @onlyferorder66 @afootnoteinyourhappiness @asaucecoveredsomething @ladydmalfoy

[kyloswarstars]

ROOMMATES • Part 8

Divergent • College AU • Eric x Reader

ROOMMATES masterlist 💫 Divergent masterlist

You escaped your current living situation by moving in with your friend Christina – and five other college students. Little did you know that one of them was the guy who was your ultimate pain in the neck since your first semester. Now, you had to find a way to not strangle him in his sleep out of pure frustration. Also, you had to find a way to get rid of those weird butterfly feelings for him that slowly grew in your stomach.

Words • 2.7k

The enemies to lovers story no one needed.

/////

The day in the zoo was sad and great and irritating and left you with a faint emptiness. Eric kept a physical distance ever since. His hand didn’t brush yours randomly when you met in the hallway. He didn’t stand close to you at the check out when you went grocery shopping together. His feet didn’t accidentally pump into yours under the dining table when you had the roommate gatherings. He didn’t sat down next to you on the balcony, he didn’t bump into you when you got out of the bathroom and he certainly did not press his side to yours anymore. His thigh, his arm, his shoulder wasn’t burning against yours, the magnetising pull just eradicated as if you had never felt it at all.

Your bodies didn’t touch anymore and that made sure that none of all those times, you had wondered if it had been on accident, had been on accident. It had always been on purpose. Eric had wanted to be close and now he didn’t want to anymore. And the weirdest thing of it all was that you still wanted to be close.

The weeks went by. Chicago finally decided that it was time for all the stuffy air to vanish. With one big, biblical doomsday thunderstorm the sky cleared itself with heavy rain and sent all the heat it had held to the future. Stored it for next summer. It was still warm, still summer but it slowly came closer to its end, moving on from the start, moving on from you moving into this apartment.

You stared at the walls in the night. There was still the knocking. Every single night, his knuckles morsed ‚GN‘ and you returned it. That was the closest your hands got – six inches divided by a wall.

While Eric remained this physical distance, his eyes didn’t stop staring at you. And lacking his side pressed against yours in the most random situations, you stared right back. Whenever you sensed his eyes on you, you were drawn to them immediately. As if the magnet had been shoved into them, now that is wasn’t in your thigh anymore.

It’s fine. Everything is fine. A good mantra to repeat when you worked on the study. For a few days you had to repeat it almost every minute to concentrate. But the more time, days and then eventually weeks passed, it got easier. Peter had still been on your mind now and then but he just wasn’t worth it. And, even without Eric stating the obvious back at the zoo, you knew it. It was summer break still, but as soon as the new semester would start, there would be no time to think about a guy anymore. Not about Peter and not about Eric.

With that you fully regained the realistic side of your mind. You concentrated on your beloved constant in life called mathematics. You tidied your room, threw out stuff you didn’t need anymore. You made pizza with Eric for all the roommates, he didn’t press himself next to you at the countertop but instead let you knead the dough on your own. Eric occasionally searched for a conversation and it was all still very sincere, way too friendly for the guy who had argued with you for more than two years in your classes. But no. physical. contact.

Reality. You focused on it and decided it was time to call your brothers. During the summer break your contact always faded a little, giving the fact that Cole had to be at every party, Levi saving his ass and leading a group of volunteers at the sea turtle rescue centre and you being wrapped up in whatever went through your mind.

It surprised you that both of them actually accepted the video call. Instant homesickness greeted you. Especially from Levi’s window. He was sitting in the kitchen, your mom cooking dinner in the background.

„Honey!“ She blurted over the boiling pots. Levi didn’t even have the chance to say hello. Cole, in his window, rolled his eyes. „Didn’t I and your father tell you to at least text once a week? So we know you didn’t fall of the earth’s surface, yet?“

She joked a little but you heard the seriousness in her voice. And it instantly made you feel guilty, knowing very well that a simple one word ‚alive‘ message would be enough for them. And you didn’t know why it was so hard for you to simply do that.

„I pledge improvement.“ You promised and tried to stick to it this time.

„Levi, move! Before dad comes around and threatens Y/N to fly up there every week to make sure she’s okay.“ Cole was laughing and Levi left the kitchen on his order.

„So you are alive,“ Levi stated. With him and Cole it wasn’t that much guilt anymore. Still a little but less than with your parents.

You affirmed and then lead the conversation in a different direction, tricked them into telling you about their summers without having to talk about yours.

Cole got drunk every second day, Levi got his ass home whenever he couldn’t walk straight anymore. No surprise. Levi gave a detailed report about the current numbers of turtle nests and the amount of baby turtles they expected to hatch. It was Levi’s first summer break since he had started college. Instead of freaking out like Cole and running to every beach gathering he could find, he sticked to be the responsible volunteer he was and cared for the turtle protection. It made you proud. Cole, was still on the team too. Only on the afternoons, though. After he had slept off his hangover and before he made sure to get a new one.

Brothers.

At the end of the call your dad fetched Levi’s phone, who sat on the porch by now, and stared at you for a second. He wasn’t as carefree anymore. A few years ago he would just blurb about everything that came to his mind. Now, he thought more about the things he said and what to hold back.

„You need more sleep, honey,“ he said, looked at you with a caring smile and ended the call. I know.

Shortly after the beeping of your phone, indicating the finished call, a knock on your door made you turn to it. By now you could tell apart your roommates by the rhythm of their knocking.

„Are you ready for the store?“ Eric peeked his head in and you wanted to say no but couldn’t. The golden rules of this household were sacred.

„Yes,“ you said instead and followed him outside to his car, parked right in front of the building. A rare parking spot – luck had to be fully on your side to find it free.

Uncomfortable memories of going to the grocery store and the aftermath of it accompanied you once again. This time, nothing would happen, you told yourself. No-one would see you and even if someone did, there was no chance for Peter to reach out to you again. Every possibility had been eliminated by Eric and you.

Eric pushed the cart, you loaded everything in. No blueberry fight, pizza wasn’t on the menu tonight and chocolate pretzels were fully stocked. No repeating of that awful day!

Eric came to stand next to you in front of the snack shelf, within a good distance of course. He grabbed a huge bag of chips, threw it in the cart and waited for you to continue. You stared at the chips in the cart.

„Not on our shopping list,“ you mumbled and almost would’ve returned them to the shelf but Eric grabbed the bag in time to save it from your hands.

„We will need it later,“ he said, his lips pulled in a honest smile.

„Why? What is later?“

He still held the bag of chips with one hand and pushed the cart down the aisle with the other. When he passed you, he dramatically stared at you for a second. „Big time cinema!“

Eric’s silly wide eyes made you laugh – and wish for his arm to actually brush you by accident. Just this one time. It didn’t. He was adamant to not touch you.

/////

With ‚big time cinema’ he meant Toy Story. So it was indeed big time cinema. And big was also the fact that you found yourself watching a movie. With Eric. In his bed. His laptop on his desk played the movie, you laid next to each other, backs propped on a lot of pillows and the bag of chips between you. He didn’t touch you and that gap between you could easily fit Christina if she was there.

At first you shook your head at his suggestion to watch a movie with him in his room. When he went for a good old debate on why you shouldn’t, you surrendered and hoped the dining table full of roommates didn’t make any remarks. No-one did. Christina only wiggled her eyebrows and hid her grin behind a spoon full of veggies.

But now you were here, on Eric’s bed, wearing some joggers and a hoodie and laughed at the screen whenever Rex the tyrannosaur had something to say.

„As a kid I always wondered if my own toys were alive as well when I wasn’t around.“ Eric mumbled with some chips in his mouth.

„Same,“ you whispered. „I wanted them to be real so bad!“

„Right? I wanted my toy cars to be real so they could drive to the kitchen and get me snacks.“ A single chip has fallen down on the way from the bag to his face. You were fast to steal it from the mattress and shove it in your mouth.

Eric turned to you, gasped and whispered in fake consternation: „Don’t you dare!“

You laughed once more. „I remember you saying that we will need this bag of chips. Not only you.“

He was quick to drop it and smiled at you as he placed the bag in the gap between you again. After having a huge bowl of veggies with noodles you still managed to kill the whole bag of chips with Eric. He was a little sad when he stared into the empty bag. He crumpled it up and tossed it into a corner of the room.

The positive side of running out of chips was the newfound silence and therefore finally understanding every word that was spoken in the movie.

„How are you, Y/N?“

There his question was again. In the zoo wasn’t the only and last time he asked. He kept asking whenever he pleased. And he wanted you to answer sincerely, you knew that. And you did, every time. The first time in long that you answered that question in full honesty. And he did as well, whenever you applied the question on him.

It was a lot easier now to answer him. „I feel good.“

„Yeah?“

„Yeah,“ you turned to see his face, the movie still playing in the background but of no importance for the moment. „I feel more like myself again. I understand now that my troubled thoughts about Peter are not worth it. That he’s not worth it but I am. I don’t care about him anymore. Not one tiny bit.“

Your words made his tensed face ease up a little. His lungs let out a breath he must have held. „Good,“ he smiled. He smiled and smiled and smiled. Then he turned to face his laptop again.

„What about you? How are you?“

„I feel more than good now,“ he stated which made you feel even better.

The movie continued playing. Woody and Buzz fought at the gas station. They eventually fell out of the car and were left behind. You were partially concentrating on the scenes, the Pizza Planet truck, when you noticed Eric’s hand moving closer to yours. Your hand, as well as his, was laying flat on the mattress. Out of the corner of your eye you saw it coming closer in ultra slow motion. Did he think you wouldn’t notice? Did he think you would scare away if he moved his hand faster? What did he think?

You took smaller breaths and tried to concentrate only on the movie but Eric’s hand was still getting closer. It was closer than your knuckles at night, when they knocked ‚good night’. Your eyes shifted between the screen, his hand, your hand. All while you didn’t turn your head. This stupid little heart inside of your chest quickened. It activated the butterflies in your stomach, sent them flying through your whole body. Excitement over the almost physical contact was rushing through you.

When his pinky spread out and ever so slightly brushed yours, he waited. For you to draw back, to possibly shout at him for what he was doing. You didn’t. You didn’t look at him, knowing very well that Eric wasn’t looking at the movie on his laptop at all. He kept his finger steady against yours, didn’t dare to move it or to breathe. You didn’t breathe either. Instead you linked your little finger with his, tying them like a knot.

Both of you exhaled at the same time. No one said a word. You still stared at the movie and sensed Eric’s head returning to the screen as well. All the butterflies gathered in your hand and made it tingle. They demanded for more. More than this simple but electrifying knot of your pinkies.

You couldn’t bring yourself to take his full hand, though. A million thoughts were running through your brain and all of them were leading back to this tiny touch. You were scared he would break the physical contact again if you searched for more. Unsure as to why he even had closed the gap and reached out after weeks of adamantly making sure no accidental body contact happened.

You were irritated. And you were… happy. And you stopped breathing once more. Eric stopped your train of thoughts abruptly.

He started to intertwine his fingers with yours. Just the way he had tried to in the furniture store. Back then you had drawn back but this time you didn’t. You welcomed his fingers between yours. When they were perfectly locked in place, you squeezed them shortly, causing Eric to sigh in relief. He grabbed onto your hand and held it tight, not giving you the choice of letting go anymore. Never would you have let go of his big hand entangled with yours. This pure feeling of holding his hand almost made you burst because it silenced the oppressing feeling of homesickness. It captured those butterflies and turned them into a vibrant, positive version of that doomsday thunderstorm from a few days ago. If holding hands could make you feel that way… what would a kiss feel like then?

That thought made your head turn to look at him. You just stared at him as he watched the movie with a grin on his lips. When the closing credits appeared on the screen, reflecting in his eyes, Eric turned to you again.

„I don’t want to leave just yet,“ you said, not really sure why this honest admittance sent heat to your cheeks.

„Okay,“ he whispered and leaned forward to start Toy Story 2 without letting go of your hand. When he pushed himself back into the pillows, he entirely closed the space between your bodies this time. He placed the bundle of hands that wouldn’t let go off each other, on his abdomen and just like that you laid next to each other. His thumb brushed over yours while the second movie unfolded in front of you. A smile was chiseled into your face. You noticed Eric shifting at some point and placing the bundle of hands on his chest. You noticed the movie's noises fainting after a while, your eyelids grew heavy. A wave of Eric’s sent was pushed over, calming you and dragging you into a sheltered sleep.

/////

Taglist • @longlostinanotherworld • @dosentier • @dhunhdchrih • @coryisagee

[fruitcoops]

Idea for jules staying with coops... Jules gets a bad dream and crawls into bed with them? Only if you want to ofc! I love e everything you write, that k you for sharing it with us! -🌼

Part three! Find Part 1 here and Part 2 here. Sweater Weather/ Jules credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for nightmares (plane crashes and cracking ice)

Lily Potter was a goddess. That belief was only solidified when she called Remus the morning of the game and offered to take care of Jules for the day while they went through their regular pre-game rituals. Jules, of course, was only too happy to go—he adored Harry and was still in the stage where babies were just gross enough to be cool.

And yet it was strange having the house to themselves. Remus kept checking over his shoulder for Jules, and Sirius called him down for lunch twice before remembering that he wasn’t there. Hattie got plenty of extra attention in his absence.

They arrived at the rink two hours before game time; there was minimal delay getting out of the house without wrangling a ten-year-old, but to be honest, Remus kind of missed it. Fans were already flooding into the stadium when they arrived and he scanned the crowds for red hair or a pompom-topped beanie, even though Jules was much too small to be easily seen in the rush.

Shake it off, Loops, you’ve got a game to win.

The locker room hummed with energy as everyone taped up and buckled in. Sirius gave his usual fearless-leader speech, Frank’s voice boomed outside, and then they were on the ice.

“Heads up, Loops!” James called, passing him the puck for a quick tap-around. Remus rolled his shoulders out and took a deep breath—he knew he had to trust Lily and the girls to keep an eye on Jules. It’s just a couple hours. Get in the zone.

It was a fast game. The Ravens may not have been the biggest team, but they were lightning on their blades and had a knack for hard hits when the opposition least expected it. Remus got checked twice in the first five minutes alone; that snapped him out of his worried haze quick enough, and he dug his skates in. Time to win.

“Twelve!” he shouted over the roar of the stadiums, slamming the puck toward Sirius and hip-checking number 18 into the boards as he flew past. Sirius caught it—of course he did, Remus thought with a small smile—and looped around for a beautiful goal. “Hell yeah!”

The fans erupted in cheers and he caught a glimpse of Jules’ face near the glass on the opposite side, sandwiched tightly between Lily and Regulus. The last latent tension melted away and he let out a slow breath, skating over celebrate Sirius’ goal.

“I found Jules!” Sirius said, tilting his head toward the glass when he arrived. “He’s okay!”

“I know, I saw!” Remus knocked their helmets together before returning to his position.

The Lions were on fire after that, steady and inevitable against the quick movements of the Ravens. When those blue jerseys tried to slip between the defense, the line tightened and netted them like fish; when they tried to get between the Lions offense, James and Remus circled back around and laid in wait for a pass.

The final buzzer went off and the stadium roared: Lions win, 3-1. Jules was jumping up and down and yelling himself hoarse as the teams shook hands and went back to their locker rooms to clean up for the media.

When all interrogations were vaguely answered and Remus’ hair was dry enough not to freeze in the nighttime air, he and Sirius walked back into the lobby to collect their kid. Jules waved when he saw them from his perch on Regulus’ shoulders—Sirius made a soft noise at the sight and gave Remus’ hand a squeeze.

“Hey, buddy, how was the game?” Remus asked, reaching up for a fist bump when they wandered over.

“It was awesome!” Jules practically shouted. “I got a Twix!”

“Did you?”

“We split one,” Regulus clarified, glancing up at Jules with unbridled fondness. “More of a seventy-thirty situation, to be honest.”

“Got it,” Remus laughed. “Lils, how’s the baby?”

“He napped, shockingly enough.” She turned so they could see Harry’s smushy baby face blinking back at them from his chest wrap. “I don’t think the Ravens worried him that much.”

“There they are!” James appeared in the crowd and swept Lily in for a kiss, then bent to place a  million on Harry’s head until he shrieked with giggles. “Hey, sunshine!”

“Here, my shoulders need a break.” Lily carefully unwound the wrap and helped James slip into it; immediately, Harry reached for his glasses, babbling happily.

“Are you ready to head home, buddy?” Sirius asked Jules, who was watching Harry with wide eyes.

He paused, looked down at Regulus, then nodded. “I guess so. Bye, Regulus.”

“See you later, kiddo.” Regulus bent down to let him off his shoulders, then startled a bit as Jules turned around and hugged him tight around the waist. “I’ll stop by before you leave, d’accord?”

“Thanks for letting me sit with you,” he said, voice muffled by the red sweatshirt.

“Thanks for sharing your Twix.” The edges of Regulus’ eyes crinkled and Remus leaned closer to Sirius’ side, running a thumb over the back of his hand. “Alright, I think our pain-in-the-patootie brothers want to get out of here.”

Jules looked up at him and frowned. “You can say ‘ass’ around me, you know.”

“Jules!” Lily, James, Sirius, and Remus exclaimed at the same time as Regulus burst out laughing.

“What? It’s true!”

“Come on, gremlin,” Remus said, grabbing his hands and letting him stand on his feet as they walked out. “What are we going to do with you?”

“Make dinner?”

Remus laughed, even as the cold air made them all shiver. “I think I can manage that, sure.”

“Lily made pasta for lunch and it was so good.”

“Yeah?” Sirius shared an amused look with him. “I’m glad you had fun.”

“We did a puzzle, and I got to play with the baby, and then we made some cookies—” He closed his mouth abruptly. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”

“Why not?”

“…can I swear?”

Sirius snorted. “Sure.”

“She said the two of you would throw a bitch fit if you found out she made cookies and didn’t let you have any.” He grinned upward as Remus scoffed in disbelief. “Then she apologized for swearing and gave me three.”

“I say we make some brownies with caramel, send her a picture, and then refuse to give her any,” Remus suggested as they reached the car. “Those are her favorite. We’ll see who throws a bitch fit then.”

Sirius made a face and closed the trunk. “I mean, she is taking care of a baby and is married to James Potter. I think she’s entitled to a bit of a bitch fit now and then.”

“Fair point. Buckle your seatbelt, Jules.”

“I always do!”

“Just checking.”

--------------------------------------

Jules was asleep by nine, just as Remus expected. It had been a busy day for him—going to the game would have been enough to knock him out pretty well, but combined with a full day of activity it was a miracle he lasted that long. He took a picture of the sleeping kid and sent it to Lily with a quick ‘thank you’ and the promise of caramel brownies. She really did deserve some.

“D’you want to go to bed?” Sirius asked as he settled down on the couch next to Remus while he read.

Remus yawned and checked the clock; it was barely ten pm. “Yeah, sure.”

They stumbled up the stairs, both dead on their feet and sore as hell, then tugged on pajamas and slid under the covers for a good, solid cuddle. Remus pressed his back into Sirius’ warmth, feeling the heavy tide of sleep roll closer. “Love you,” he whispered in the darkness.

Sirius smiled against the back on his neck and wrapped an arm around his ribs, pulling him even closer with a kiss to the shell of his ear. “Love you, too, mon loup.”

Remus dreamed of ice. A frozen pond, to be specific, where Jules flew past him on his skates and Sirius followed, both laughing so hard they gasped with it. Sirius caught his hand as he passed, pulling him along as the three of them—no, five, his parents were there as well—looped in wide circles.

A bolt of fear shot through him when he heard the telltale sound of cracking ice and he reached for Jules’ coat collar; the soft fleece of the inside brushed his fingertips, but he was too far away to pull him to safety. Jules was going to fall. Didn’t he hear it? Didn’t he understand?

“Re?” A soft, terrified voice broke through his dream and his eyes flew open. The room was dark, save for a bit of light from the hallway. Sirius was still against his back, breathing steadily as he slept. And Jules was standing about a foot away from the edge of the bed with tearstains on his face.

“Jules?” He scrubbed a hand over his cheek and sat up. “What’s going on?”

“I had a nightmare.” His lower lip trembled as he stared at Remus, clearly shaken.

“Oh. M’kay.” Next to him, Sirius inhaled deeply and shifted, reaching for him; Remus brushed his dark hair off his face and shushed him softly. “Go back to sleep, love.”

“I didn’t mean to wake Sirius up.” Jules sniffled and blinked a couple times.

“Don’t worry, buddy, it’s fine. Do you want me to tuck you back in?” Jules shook his head as tears spilled over and Remus swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, pulling him close for a hug. “Hey, shh, you’re alright. You’re alright. I’ve got you.”

“It was awful,” Jules sobbed, clinging to Remus’ shoulders as he buried his face in his chest.

“What was?”

“My nightmare.”

“Can you tell me about it?” Jules shook his head; Remus kissed his forehead and kept his lips there, closing his eyes. “Oh, buddy.”

“ ‘s everything okay?” Sirius mumbled as he sat up. He frowned in the dim light before he saw the two of them and concern covered his face. “What happened?”

“Jules had a nightmare,” Remus explained quietly. Jules pulled away and wiped furiously at his face with his sleeve.

“I’m fine.” His voice broke on the last word, though, and he stared down at the floor.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Sirius said gently, scooting over to see him better. “Nightmares are really scary.”

Jules’ breath caught. “I dunno if I can go back to sleep.”

“We can stay up for a bit.”

Remus tipped Jules’ chin up and wiped a stray tear away. “Do you want to make hot cocoa?”

A sniffle. “Yeah.”

“Alright, come on.”

Sirius stood up as well, which seemed to surprise Jules if his lingering look was any indication. He plastered himself to Remus’ side as they walked into the kitchen, then climbed up to sit on the countertop as Remus began collecting ingredients. Sirius dampened a paper towel with warm water and tapped his nose with it to make him smile before handing it over so he could wipe his face.

They worked in silence for a few minutes until the milk steamed and Sirius took three mugs down from the cupboard. Remus leaned on the counter and made sure Jules had taken a few sips of cocoa before he spoke. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jules shook his head, then paused. “The plane crashed.”

“Which plane?”

“Mom and Dad’s.” Tears welled up in his eyes again and Remus reached over to rub his back. “They couldn’t get out.”

He heard Sirius sigh and gathered Jules up in his arms, giving him a little squeeze. “That sounds really scary, buddy.”

“It felt so real.”

“I promise it wasn’t.”

“How do you know?” The hint of a sob hitched in his voice and Remus let go of him for a second to grab his phone off the counter.

“Here.” He unlocked it and tapped the text app, holding it out. “See? I talked to mom this morning when she wished us good luck for the game. They landed safely and have the memorial tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Jules reached out and touched the screen, snuggling against Remus as he nodded. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah. Sorry I woke you up.”

“I’m glad you did,” Sirius said over his mug of cocoa. “It’s hard to deal with that alone.”

“Do you want to try to sleep, or should we stay up a little longer?” When Jules stayed silent, Remus wracked his memory for whatever he could remember about dealing with nightmares when they were kids. “We could put the Princess Bride on?”

Jules nodded and slid off the counter, cupping his mug tightly between his hands as the three of them padded into the living room. Hattie jumped on the couch and curled up on top of Jules’ feet with a low, contented rumble. Sirius set up the movie as Remus tucked a blanket around their legs, then joined them on the sofa as the opening credits began.

Fifteen minutes later, Jules was stretched across Remus’ lap with his head on Sirius’ thigh, snoring under his breath. Remus put his arms beneath his knees and shoulders and stood, walking slowly toward the stairs as Sirius turned the movie off and put their cups in the sink. He tucked Jules back in, placed a kiss on his forehead, and left the nightlight on just in case before going back to their bedroom. I was easy to fall asleep after that.

-----------------------------------

“Hello? Can you see us?” Remus set the phone up against the toaster.

His mother’s face broke into a wide smile. “There you are! Hi, boys!”

“Hi, mom!” Jules beamed at her, nearly bouncing right out of his chair.

“Where’s Sirius? I don’t see him anywhere.”

“Oh, I’m here.” He stepped into frame, waving shyly as he set the duster down. “Hello.”

“There you are, honey! I was afraid they’d chased you off already,” she teased, making all of them laugh. “How have you been? Has anything exciting happened? We miss you so much.”

“Things have been good,” Remus said, propping the phone up with a spare fork as it began to slide down. “We’ve had so much fun, right, buddy?”

“Yeah! I get to go to practice, and see the games, and we watched Jurassic Park—”

“Of course you did,” his father said with a playful eye roll.

“—and we’re hanging out with Leo and Logan and Finn this afternoon to play board games since practice is in the evening!”

Remus shared a look with Sirius, both of them stifling their laughter at his overwhelming enthusiasm for their weekly routine. “We’ve definitely been busy.”

“We’re so glad you’re having fun.” Lyall smiled. “Grandma Lillian sends her love. We all watched the game yesterday—great job, both of you!”

“Thanks, Dad,” Remus laughed. “Yeah, the season’s looking good.”

“Well, we don’t want to keep you too long,” Hope said. “You’ve got a long day ahead of you and we just wanted to check in. Re, keep sending us updates, and Jules, behave. Sirius, we’ll keep you in our thoughts and prayers.”

“I appreciate it,” Sirius said with a grin.

“Love you!” Lyall added as they waved goodbye.

“Love you, too!” Jules and Remus chorused. The screen went dark a few moments later.

[what-the--curtains]

In a Week

Part 2/4 - The Importance of Being Idle

(Frankie Morales x f!reader)

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Summary: Things get easier between you and Frankie as the storm outside rages on.

Authors notes: Hello! Sorry this took so long (I forgot I had a lab report due this week so I was busy panic writing 6000 words the patient few days!) anyways this is soft makes my heart happy 🥺 thank u for all the support in the story💕💕

Tw: Swearing, dead sibling mentioned (I think that’s all)

Work count: 4.9k

Tagged: @agingerindenial @icanbeyourjedi

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

Day 2

You don’t know when,or how it happened, but sometime during the night you had found your way over to the heat being emitted from human furnace Frankie Morales. Your limbs were wrapped lazily around him, with your leg over his and your arm resting idly on his chest. You blink into the light emitting a dissatisfied grumble realizing you had woken up. You hear a sigh from above and with one eye still closed, you tilt your head up to see Frankie currently hyper focused on winning whatever game he was playing on his phone.

"You could have woken me up you know.” You say, detaching from him and rolling over onto your back rubbing your eyes. “How long have you been awake?" you ask, yawning.

"Few hours, you’re quite the sleeper, slept through all 4 alarms that went off." He responds, still fixated on his phone.

"Shit, sorry about that. My mother used to say I could sleep for England" you state, earning a soft chuckle from the man beside you. Even after years of working on hospital hours, waking up was always a struggle for you, no matter the time of day. After a few moments of contemplating whether you really had to move, you rip off the covers and scoot out of bed. Tearing open the curtains you let out a dissatisfied groan when you see a snowscape where the parking lot once was. You turn around arms crossed, eyes glazed over inadvertently boring into him. You hear him say something but it doesn't register.

“What?” you ask, shaking yourself from the trance and moving towards your over packed bag to retrieve clean clothes.

“Nothing.” he says, eyes back on his phone. You raise your eyebrows and head into the bathroom to get changed, emerging in sweats and a vintage band shirt that you’d tied at the waist.

"The clash? Nice." Frankie says, as he passes by you into the bathroom, closing the door.

"Ya London Calling" you respond sitting down on the bed and pulling on some socks, not fully listening to what he had said. "I’m going to ask the front desk if we can renew the room, doesn't look like we're going anywhere anytime soon. I can see if there's another one available if you don’t wanna share" You say, when you hear the doors lock click open, knowing he may still be mad at you for not pulling over sooner.

"I mean I don't mind sharing, unless you’d be more comfortable..." he starts, mouth hanging open downturned slightly, as he rinses his hands.

“I’m fine sharing, nice to have some company plus it's cheaper this way.” you say, grabbing the room key off the nightstand.

"Let me know how much it is, I'll pay half" he says, stretching out his back, cursing the mattress for being too soft.

"I feel like you should be paying more since you get the good half of the bed.” you offer, pointing your finger at him.

“I think they call that extortion,” he says, grinning “Oh, see if they have any food while you're down there I’m starving” he calls as you exit into the hallway and make your way downstairs.

“Hey, I was looking to re-book the room from last night” you say to the receptionist who you recognized from last night. Suppose she got stuck here as well, you wonder if she’d gotten any sleep.

“For how many more nights?” she asks.

“How long do you think this storm is going to last?” You ask.

“At least a few more days, but then the roads will have to be cleared, so maybe a week? We can book you in for two more nights then go from there though, no one else will be coming in”

“That’d be great,” you say, taking out your credit card. “What about food, is there any way we can get some stuff to make sandwiches or something?” you ask

“Well the culinary staff was trapped here by the storm, another reason why so many rooms were booked, so they’ll be able to have food sent up.” You nod, the hotel was upscale and you hated to think how expensive the food was going to be, but what choice did you have?

“It's past breakfast, but we may have some spare sandwiches leftover, let me just go check.” she offers, returning a few minutes later with a couple of boxes.

“Thank you so much!” you say taking the boxed up food from her.

“Anything else I can help you with?”

“Oh yes” you say, “booze, can I buy that here?”

“That, we have plenty of!” she smiles.

~~~~~

You re-enter the room with the boxed up breakfasts, a case of beer and two bottles of wine

“Here food” you say, sliding the boxes off the beer and onto the counter next to the fridge.“We missed breakfast, so it’s probably cold, and I booked the room for another two nights, but we can go from there” you say, reiterating the receptionist's words as you place the drinks in the fridge.

“Planning on sharing that or?” he laughs watching you strategically maneuver the booze into the fridge

“Hey, I get a week off work, I'm going to be drinking. Do I wish it was on a beach in sunny south Carolina? Yes, but this will have to do, and I hate drinking alone so congratulations you’ve just been conscripted” You say, as he empties out one of the breakfasts onto a plate placing it in the microwave for a few minutes.

“Here. Do you want this? You say peeling the sliced ham off your sandwich” waving it infront of his face.

“Not a fan of ham?” he asks, taking it and adding it into his own.

“Not a fan of meat in general, I’m a vegetarian”

“Course you are.” he laughs.

“Bold words coming from a guy wearing a baseball hat inside, in the middle of winter” you say, throwing a balled up napkin at his head.

“So what exactly do you do? Santi never said.” he asks, leaving you to question what Santiago had said about you.

“I’m a doctor, well almost a doctor one more year of residency, hopefully” you say, crossing your fingers.

“Shit, aren’t you kinda young to be a doctor?” he asks, looking you up and down with raised eyebrows.

“Older than I look, but thank you. How about you?”

“I was a pilot, me and Pope served together for a while, but I’m mainly just teaching now. How’d you two meet by the way? I’ve never seen you round base before, I’m sure I’d remember you hanging around” he says.

“He basically lived at my house growing up, well until he went into the military when I was in middle school. ”

“I thought you said you weren’t young” he laughs “So you didn't serve?”

“No, my brother did though, he was a few years older than Santi but they were inseparable.” you state, preparing yourself for the imminent conversation.

“Who?” Frankie asks, slightly offended that Pope had a secret best friend he never introduced to him.

“His name was Parker '' you say, hoping the past tense clues Frankie in.

“Ya I’ve met Parker! Good guy what branch is he in these days?” he says, not picking up on your word selection or how your mouth hangs slightly ajar or how your eyes have gone vacant.

“Was in” is all you say, you avert your gaze staring down at the floor “he passed five years ago in active duty”

“Shit, I’m sorry I…” he stumbles over his words trying to form a coherent sentence.

“Not your fault how were you supposed to know, besides I'm sure you’ve lost your fair share of people.” you say offering him a not very convincing, but reassuring smile. You let the awkwardness hang in the air, not wanting to speak first.

“What... kind of doctor are you?” he says, hoping to cut the tension he’d caused.

“Medical, diagnostics.” you say, exhaling as the easiness you felt around Franki came back.

“So like House?” He asks.

“Ya cane and all.” you laugh, his lopsided grin having returned to his face, as he leans in to grab your plate.

“Hey, I uh.. I need to make a phone call.” He says, washing the dishes in the sink.

“I'll make myself scarce, give you some privacy. Is it fine if I'm in the shower or did you want me to fully vacate the premise? I can go down to the gym for a bit.” you offer.

“Showers perfect.” He says, mentally questioning his word choice there. He waits to hear the water run before pulling out his phone and dialing his mother who was currently watching his daughter for what was only supposed to be a few days.

You let the water wash over you turning on some music to drown out the conversation Frankie was having, not wanting to pry on his personal life. You did find yourself wondering who he was calling just simple curiosity, nothing else. You had decided you liked Frankie despite the rocky start, the more time you spent with him the more you felt like you'd known him for years. You could see why he and Santiago got along so well they were two sides of the same coin, his calm nicely balancing out Santiago's rashness. Or should you call him Pope? What kind of nickname was that, and Santiago was anything but a saint. You made a mental note to ask Frankie for the origin stories later he may be more forthcoming about it than Santiago. Lathering your hair you close your eyes, allowing Frankie’s image to come to the forefront of your mind. He had an old beauty, a kind of beauty that was suited to a ruler of a long forgotten empire. You begin to feel the water run cold, had you really been in the shower that long? You turn off the tap and dry yourself off redonning your sweats and tying the Clash shirt into a crop. As you exit the bedroom you’re met at the door by Frankie who hands you a cup of coffee.

“Thanks” you say smiling up at him.

“Take it as an apology for being an ass yesterday, I was tired and shouldn’t have thrown a tantrum about it, you don’t control the weather”

“Well I guess I should apologize as well for not listening to you, especially considering you’re the one with training in navigating radars.”

The rest of the day is spent in relative silence breaking into conversation every once in a while about nothing in particular. You sit on the couch reading while he sits in the chair across from you book in hand as the news plays faintly in the background. The storm had been dubbed “snowmageddon” by the anchors, not particularly innovative but it got the point across, 20cm had fallen and another 30 was being predicted you groaned internally thinking about how long it was gonna take you to clear off your car. At least you'd have military help. Dinner comes and goes and he doesn't ask you many questions, unsurprising considering how the last conversion had turned out. Instead you tell him about the weirdest cases you’d ever seen come through the hospital and he tells you about the incidents that got him and Santi sent to the hospital.

“Alright I'm going to turn in” he says, as you look up from the rabbit hole you'd currently found yourself stuck in.

“Shit ya good call” you say closing your phone and rubbing your eyes. Once again he beats you to the bed, giving him a prime position to watch in amusement as you dig through your bag.

“Lost something? Seriously, how deep is that bag? What are you looking for?” he inquires.

“Normal pyjamas” you mutter, all concentration currently being used to find something appropriate to sleep in.

“What pray tell are normal pyjamas?” he asks, a confused look plastered across his face.

“Let's just say a certain king of sleepwear was packed for someone who was suppose to be at the wedding”

“Who?” he asks.

“Ah ha!” you cry victoriously, pulling out your day-to-day sleepwear. You exit the bathroom in the silk sleep set you’d gotten a few years back. Frankie’s eyes widen slightly when he sees you emerge, the pyjamas leaving little to the imagination. If those were your normal pyjamas he didn't want to think about what the other ones were. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable by coming off as a creep. Which he was already feeling like by ogling you as you bent over the sink spitting out your toothpaste. His eyes dart down to look at his hands as you walk around the bed to bed, only looking up once the covers are pulled up over you. He turns off the lamp and settles into the mattress, placing his hands on his chest and closing his eyes.

“Please for the love of god, stop moving” he mumbles after 15 minutes of patiently waiting for you to stop wriggling. Your eyes open as you shift again, completely aware of how annoying you must be to him.

“I know I'm sorry, I‘m just..” you move one more time, balling your fists up and slamming them into the mattress in frustration.

“Not comfy” he finishes for you, eyes opening staring up at the ceiling.

“Ya especially since someone took my side of the bed” you bemoan.

“Look, you’ve already slept wrapped around me once, so you can... do it again. If it’s the easiest way for you to sleep.” he says hoping the offer comes off as sincere, and not weird. You chew your lower lip for a second before accepting the fact that it was the only way you’d be able to sleep. He lifts his arms above his head allowing you to position yourself comfortably on top of him, before lowering them down. One hand on his stomach and the other wrapped around your shoulder.

“Don’t even think about trying...” you start, eyes batting sleepily up at him.

“I know you don’t know me well, but i'm not like that. It's not good or fun unless everyones fully and consensually on board.” With that you ease into him, trusting his words. Breathing deeply you drift off to sleep to the smell of clean laundry that you’d come to associate with Frankie.

Day 3

“Hey I'm going to the gym if you need to make a call or whatever” you say, pulling on your sneakers, feeling refreshed from the good sleeps you’d had the past two nights.

“Thanks,” he says, watching you leave before calling to check in on his daughter.

“Hey mom how is she? Good good ya, put her on would ya? Hey darling how are you! Yes I'm going to be home soon. Were just stuck in a big snow storm, did you see it? I wish you were here then we could build a snowman together! Yes just like Elsa and Anna. Yes we can watch them when I get home and absolutely I will try and save you a snowball. Alright, okay, I love you.” He says, a few minutes was more than he’d expected from the kid, toddlers aren’t known for their keen telecommunication skills after all.

“Hey mom, thanks again for watching her. This storm came outta nowhere. We're going to miss the wedding, I know they’re gonna be pissed. That’s not a swear Mom! No, I'm not alone. One of Santis friends she's a doctor. Yes, I mean I don’t know! Why does it matter? Look, I'm hanging up now. I am. No I won't be doing that I love you, I'll call later.” he hangs up shaking his head. Despite what everyone around him thought, the last thing on his mind was dating, his kid was his number one, scratch that, his only priority especially since her mother disappeared in the night. Leaving nothing but a note about having other reasons to live. Whatever the hell that meant. He hears the key unlock the door and watches as you re-enter, not stopping to make conversation, bee-lining straight for the shower. Knowing he’d have a good half hour to kill he dials his phone again.

“Hey Pope” he says, taking the opportunity to call his friend and deliver the bad news.

“Hey ‘Fish where the hell are you guys?” he shouts from the other end, evidently in a crowded room.

“Trapped by the storm, we're not gonna make it.”

“Shit Gen’s gonna lose it, and Stella if it wasn’t for her four sisters Y/N would be in the wedding party they were roommates for years.” He stresses.

“Damn, ya man i'm really sorry, she's in the shower, but I can pass the phone to her when she's out?��� Frankie offers.

“No man, don't bother her. I'll text her in a bit. Hey you guys sharing a room?” he questions, the agenda behind it obvious.

“Wasn’t much of a choice, rooms were all booked up.”

“You're sleeping on the floor I hope” A protective tone taking over.

“You know my back’s bad Pope.” he explains calmly, hoping to de-escalate the situation.

“Catfish you better keep those hands to yourself, she's not one of your nightly conquests”

“Man I haven’t been like that since my kid came along” He chuckles, knowing full well that those days were long behind him.

“I'm a serious ‘Fish, she's too good for you, and she's in no place to be fucked over by another guy alright?”

“Look I know she'd never go for me Pope and I'm flattered you think she would. Glad i'm still handsome in your eyes.I’ll call you later” he laughs, ending the conversation on a lighter note.

“Hey” you say, pulling your Boston University sweater over your head, drying out your hair with a towel.

“Pope says hi” Frankie says, hanging up the phone

“What's the nickname mean?” you question, ready to get to the bottom of it.

“That's top secret information” he taunts, shaking the phone at you.

“Oh I'm sure I could figure out a way to get it out of you.” you smirk, raising your eyebrows

“Hey! I have military training!” he exclaims, offended at the insinuation.

“Militarys got nothing on me.” you retort, slapping him on the shoulder as you pass by.

“Well, if the plan is to ply me with alcohol, it may just work” he confesses.

“Perfect” you say, heading to the fridge opening up the wine bottle “let the games begin” you say tossing him a beer bottle watching as he uses a lighter to open it before bringing it to his lips.

“So tell me what does Pope mean?” you ask after a few hours of meaningless conversations and playing a drinking game that went along with the forensic files repeats you were watching. “Is it a dick thing” you whisper yell, causing Frankie to burst out laughing.

“Why? You wanna know what it looks like?” He asks forehead creased the trace of laughter still etched on his face.

“Ew No! but I am asking if it looks like a Pope?” you say trying to hide your amusement with a stern look.

“Which Pope?” Frankie asks in an equally serious tone, curious as to where you were going with this.

“Francis?” you ask.

“Nope” He answers after pausing for a moment.

“Fred?” You ask, now entrapped in a bizarre game of guess who, but in reference to what holy figure most resembled your friends penis.

“Was there a Pope named Fred?” He asks unsuccessfully, stifling a laugh.

“Probably? There were like three Popes at once at one point in time.”

“No his dick doesn't look like the Pope, now can we please stop talking about my best friend's penis!” he exclaims.

“Fine, but this isn’t over.” you say chewing your lip trying to think of other possible explanations when a phone ringing interrupts you thought.

“Shit, Sorry I have to take this,'' he says, pulling out his phone and walking to the next room, forgetting to close the door, leaving you to inadvertently eavesdrop on his conversation.

“Good night sweety I love you to the moon and back I'll be home soon.”

Your eyes go wide as you feel your stomach sink, of course he was married, he was too nice, too easy, something had to have been off. A ick comes over you at the thought of being unknowingly draped over a married man, and you suddenly begin questioning Frankies motives.

“Sorry about that. It's my daughter she uh, I didn’t say goodnight to her last night and she missed it” he says with a slight chuckle, pride evident on his face.

“How old is she?” you ask smiling at how he lit up at being asked about his kid.

“Three” he says, grabbing another beer and grunting slightly as he sits back on the floor next to you.

“Good age” You offer, shaking off the feeling of betrayal and disappointment that had come over you for a brief moment.

“Ya she's perfect” he beams.

“I bet, I mean I don’t know what your wife looks like, but if she's got your eyes watch out world.” You offer turning to face him only to see that his smile had faded, replaced instead by a somber hurt.

“Her mothers not in the picture” He says, clearing his throat and taking a long drink.

“Shit Frankie I'm sorry” you say quickly, feeling like a prize idiot for making assumptions about his character.

“Hey I brought up your dead brother, only seems fair you bring up my ex who abandoned us.” He says with a shrug. “Don’t, don’t look at me like that” He says, shaking his head and knitting his brows together tired of being looked at like he was broken. It was horrible when it happened. It was fucking shitty that she had left her daughter without a care, but now? Hell, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Watching his daughter grow up was worth it.

“Fuck” you say, scrunching up your face “I hate when people do that to me.”

“You need another drink?” he offers, hoping to ease the sudden awkwardness into the room, one he was accustomed to after telling his dates about his kid, not that this was a date.

“Ya I need it to wash the taste of foot out of my mouth” you laugh, feeling worse than when your brother was inadvertently brought up.

“Seriously don't worry about it. Speaking of a palette cleanser you wanna watch a movie or something?” he says pouring the rest of the wine into your glass, before grabbing another drink out the fridge for himself.

“Ya but it's gotta be horror, the only thing i'm in the mood for.”

“Didn’t think bringing up my ex was that scary.” he laughs, handing you the glass.

“No, but talking about Santiago's penis was.” You deadpan, causing Frankie to snort out his drink. “What? Do all the girls say that about it? A real nightmare?” you continue, giggling as he coughs through a laugh. “Was it the inspiration for the creature from the black lagoon?” for some reason the stupid bit your doing causes Frankie to double over subsequently encouraging your own laughing fit. After the ache in your side subsides Frankie sits down on the couch next to you. Using his sleeve to wipe any spillage from his beard.

“Any preference?” you ask, leaning your head back against the couch. He shakes his head. “Alright, the Conjuring it is! I gotta pee first though, need anything before we start?” you ask, walking towards the washroom.

“Just you.” he calls out, as the door closes behind you. Fuck, why the hell did he say that. He shakes his head at how desperate it sounded. Jesus christ, he was embarrassing.

You were just tipsy enough that the bathroom's bright lights made you feel wobbly. You cross your arms as you pee, thinking about the words you’d just heard, about how he needed you. Well maybe that was a reach, but it was okay to pretend just for a night? In all honesty, even though this wasn't a date, it was definitely the best time you'd had with a guy… ever, something about him was just so easy. You flush the toilet and open the door washing your hands, hotels were so weird, why wasn't the sink in with the toilet? You felt like you needed to wipe the handle down after every use.

You flop back onto the couch next to him, closer than you’d been when you left, but leaving enough space between you. After a few jump scares that catch even the pilot off guard the two of you found yourself snuggled into each other. You knew the movie was getting to him, because the arm wrapped around your shoulder pulled you closer into his side whenever the ominous music began to play. He wouldn't say the movie was getting to him per say, it was just in his nature to protect others. Even if it was just a stpid movie he wanted to make sure you felt safe. After the movie ends you quickly separate from each other and clear up the glasses, leaving them to ‘soak’ overnight. Frankie gets to the bathroom first, again. Thirsty, you wander back out to the kitchen grabbing a glass and filling it with water jumping when you think you see a shadow move out the corner of your eye. It was strange, how you loved horror so much while watching it but the second it turned off, any sounds, or hat rack or shadow scared the living daylights out of you. At least this time there would be another person with you. After getting ready for bed you switch off the lights and make your way to the bed.

“What are you doing?” Frankie asks, watching you lift up the bedskirt peering under the bed. “Are you seriously checking under the bed right now?” He laughs, unable to get over how you, a medical professional was afraid of ghosts.

“Better safe than sorry!” you exclaim eyes wide as your head pops up.

“You can't believe in this shit can you?”

“Hey man you get sleep paralysis then tell me that shit isn’t plausible” you respond pointing a finger at him, before pushing yourself off your knees and up onto the bed.

You crawl under the covers and sit up parting your hair to braid it before going to bed.

“Can I ask you a weird favour” he asks, you panic slightly, fuck he was too good to be true, no way a guy was that sweet without an alterior motive.

“Yes, but proceed with extreme caution” you say.

“Can you teach me how to braid hair? I want to be able to do my daughter's hair but I’m pretty terrible at it. Her teacher once asked if she'd gotten caught in a bush on the way in.” Your heart jumps slightly, at the sincere revelation. How, how could one guy be this sweet, and thoughtful and not creepy?

“Of course I can show you.” you say and you proceed to give him a step by step tutorial, followed by a demonstration prior to actually letting him have at your hair so he can try and replicate the motions. Once he got the motion down you’d mistakenly tried to show him how to french-braid it down from the top.

“Be honest doc, how bad is it.” He says.

“Well, maybe we shouldn't have tried a french braid quite yet.” you say laughing feeling the matted mess currently on your head. You turn upon hearing him groan, watching as he leans back into the pillow bringing his hands up to hide his face.

“For someone who's a pilot i'm shocked you can't do this.” you say, hand reaching up to salvage your hair.

“Are you judging me?” he says, sitting back up when he sees you struggling to untangle the mess he’d made.

“Maybe a little.” Your breath hitches when you feel his hand grazed against yours. You drop it to the side upon contact allowing his fingers to work gently at removing the knots.

“Are pilots supposed to be good at braiding?” he asks.

“I just assumed if you could weave in and out of the sky you'd be good with your hands.” you laugh as he frees the last of your hair from the prison he'd made. He watches as you effortlessly put your hair back up into tidy braids.

“You make it look so easy,” he says.

“Well practice makes perfect, but look on the brightside, now you have a sure fire pick up line that'll work on all the MILFs youll be dating!” you exclaim turning back to smile at him.

“Malo '' he mutters, pushing your shoulder slightly as you giggle, dramatically falling back onto the bed and pulling the covers up over you. It doesn't take a moment before you're back around him, breathing silently, and fast asleep. He wasn’t far behind you, he never used to sleep well in hotels, or at all really, not after the mission, but something about this place made it easy. He's sure it's nothing to do with the idle hand on his chest or the rhythmic beating of the heart belonging to the person draped over him.

[passable-talent]

no one requested this one either but I know of at least 2 people ( @haydens-moles @iscariot-rising ) who will be happy it exists

still male reader x sam monroe (life as a house) 

part one here

The house was quiet by the time your sister and mom got home from wherever they were. They’d somehow missed Sam’s truck parked on the street, so didn’t know anything was unusual. Colleen, though, did notice an open beer sitting on the counter, and quickly Alyssa realized she needed to save you from a punishment by making sure you were awake and functioning by the time your mother decided to yell at you. 

So, being your sister, she threw open the door at six am and launched one of the couch pillows at your head. 

You groaned wordlessly, rolling over to look at her in the doorway. Sam, beside you, had a bit more coherent reaction, pushing himself up to his elbows after removing the pillow from his face. 

“What the fuck?” He said, and you saw it happen as Alyssa made eye contact with him, and figured out the implications of him, laying in your bed. With you. Both of you shirtless.

“Oh my god!” She shouted, and you finally had enough mental function to grab the pillow from Sam’s chest and hurl it at her, knocking her from her stupor. She took a step back and, apparently respecting your privacy all the sudden, closed the door. 

“What a nice wake-up call,” Sam said, earning him an amused exhale.

“That means mom’s gonna yell at me about something,” you said, your voice bounced just a bit by the mattress when he dropped from his elbows onto his back. 

“Is it me?” 

“Nah,” you said, a smirk pulling at your lips as you turned your head to look at him. “She’s used to her kids sleeping with you.” He didn’t seem to like that, though, and swiped his pillow out from under his head to smack it into your face. You laughed behind it, pulling it down toward your chest to look at him overtop of it. It was hard to believe that twenty four hours ago, you still couldn’t stand the sight of him. Now, you couldn’t stop staring. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, the words soft, accompanying the way you rolled onto your stomach and brought one hand to his face. He’d fallen asleep with his piercings in. “For trying to hit you.” The contented smile that was already on his face grew just a bit, into fondness, and you tracked as his gaze slipped over you, your collarbones, your lips, your hair.

“It’s okay,” he said, his right hand tracing over your knuckles on his face, and his left snaking under the sheets to find your lower back. “I did sleep with your sister.” With a little laugh, you dropped your forehead to his chest.

“Someday, we’re gonna have to stop talking about that.” You felt his fingers card into your hair, and you were content to stay there for, roughly, the next three years, but a knock at the door ruined your plans. 

“Yeah, I don’t know what kind of gay shit is going on behind this door,” Alyssa said through the wood, “but mom’s seriously going to be pissed with you when she gets up.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you shouted, lifting your head with a roll of your eyes. “I’m coming, relax.” For once, you didn’t throw the sheets open, as that would’ve exposed Sam to the cold air of the rest of the room, but instead slid out from under them. You tried to ignore him watching you while you got dressed, but the slight nervousness that it gave you definitely meant that you didn’t spend time picking out an outfit. 

You opened the door, surprised to find Alyssa right on the other side of it, leaning against the bannister, a smile on her face. 

“Piss off,” you said with a smile, not really meaning the words, closing your door behind you and brushing her off to get into the bathroom. She followed you, though, so it was probably good you didn’t actually have to piss. She watched you brush your teeth for a minute in silence. 

“Got something to say?” you asked around the toothbrush, but you knew why she was there. 

“You better tell me everything.” You rolled your eyes at yourself in the mirror, spitting out the toothpaste, deciding to torture her, just like she had you. 

“I mean, what’s there to tell?” You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to get out the knots. 

“The beer on the counter and two hickies I can see just over the collar of that shirt tell me differently.” Panic coursed through you.

“I never got rid of the beer!” You said, whirling to face her. 

“Yeah, which is why mom is pissed.” 

“Shit,” you said, cursing yourself for being so damn stupid. 

“Well, I don’t think she’s going to be super angry,” Alyssa said, following you down the stairs as you ran your knuckles through your palm, the morning chill in the house freezing your fingers already. “It’s Christmas break, and we’re in college. I don’t think she wants to be mad at us.” 

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one getting yelled at.”

“She might not yell at you while Sam’s here,” Alyssa suggested, and your gaze snapped to hers. 

“He’s not allowed to leave,” you declared, playing up the drama. The two of you were a lethal combination when you decided to fuck around together.

“Well, you’d better get on that,” she said, and you turned tail to bound up the stairs. Somehow, he didn’t hear you coming, and was halfway into pulling up his jeans when you entered, and it shocked him so much that he almost fell. You laughed, closing the door, and plunged the room back into the darkness of a blacked-out window. 

“Ayssa’s a pain in my ass,” you said, spitting out the first thing you could think of. You heard him laugh, god, what a wonderful sound, and as your eyes adjusted to the low light you could barely make out as he walked to you, trapping you against the door, kissing you. A welcome surprise. 

You brought your hands up, feeling first his ribcage, then around to his shoulder blades. He hadn’t yet put on a shirt, so you got to feel his smooth skin again, feel the muscles underneath, run your middle finger down his spine. 

He’d leaned forward to bring his lips to yours, his left hand on the back of your head, the other pressed to your chest, keeping you against the wall like you had to him the night before. 

You’d think, after spending the night with him, you’d be used to it. You’d be adjusted to feeling him touch you, feeling his hands in your hair, his knee nudging yours. You’d think you’d be familiar with the sounds he makes, whether he means to or not. You’d think that you’d be acclimated to feeling his breath move across your skin.

Nope. 

Every time he held you, it was new. Every grip into the fabric of your shirt was something you’d never felt before, every pass of his lips over yours was fresh. You could get lost here- against your door, your freezing fingers soaking up the warmth from his skin.

“Breakfast soon, (Y/N),” Colleen said outside your door, and you broke the kiss to respond, but you didn’t have the breath. Luckily, she just moved on, and you could thump your head back against the door. Now that your eyes had adjusted, you could just look at him, his hair so spikey, eyeliner smudged. You could bet that you’d find it all over your pillow. 

“Hey,” he breathed, and you laughed, pushing forward to give him a quick kiss, and how could you not, when his lips felt like that.

“Hi,” you whispered, a bright smile gracing your face. He leaned down to press his forehead to yours, his fingers just resting on your ribcage, your palms overlapping his shoulder blades. You could only let it rest for thirty more seconds before you nudged him away. 

“Put a shirt on,” you said, “before you come downstairs.” 

You were lucky the cold air kept the blush from your face as you faced your mother. 

It was a cereal type of morning, Colleen hadn’t known she had a guest. It seemed like she was about to lay into you when Sam came down, pulling his sleeve over his thumb to rub sleep-dust from his eye. 

“Oh, Sam!” Colleen said, rushing to get a glass of orange juice for him. “I didn’t know you were here!”

“Yeah, he slept over,” you said, not thinking anything of the explanation.

“Well,” Colleen said, “I’m glad you two are finally getting along again.” Alyssa started to laugh through her spoonful, for which reason she received a sharp kick under the table. 

“So, Sam,” Colleen said, “We didn’t plan on doing much today, but you’re welcome to hang around anyway.” 

“No, I’d better be getting home. I promised my mom I’d take my brothers to the movies today.” 

“Oo, can I come?” Alyssa asked, leaning forward to see him past you. 

“I don’t know, I already told (Y/N) he could come, and it’s gonna start getting cramped in the truck.” You didn’t know anything about being invited to a movie, but, hey. You wouldn’t say no.

“That’s fine,” Alyssa said with a smile, “I can ride in the bed.” 

“No,” Colleen said, but she knew that her daughter was joking. “If it’s that much a problem, Alyssa can drive you all in my car. If that’s alright with Robin.”

“I’ll ask when I get home,” Sam said, a smile on his face.

He left a few minutes later, waiting until your mother wasn’t looking before pulling you into one more kiss. You watched him go, leaning on the door frame, arms crossed over your chest. Once he’d gotten the truck started, you looked over at the house, the house that had changed the whole neighborhood’s lives. Like usual, you felt that niggling guilt between your collarbones that you hadn’t been there for him, when his dad died. 

“Close the door, loverboy, you’re letting in the cold,” Alyssa said, and you rolled your eyes, doing as she asked. She stood from where she’d been at the couch, and you saw it as she prepared to do- something? You could just see her energy rising. 

And she gave you a playful, but still forceful, shove to the shoulder.

“You finally got him!” she said, and you laughed, holding your shoulder as though she’d wounded you. 

“Yeah!” you laughed. She’d known about your crush on him the entire time you’d had it, she’d known about his crush on you that really kicked in over summer break. She’d kept her fingers away from it, but she really wanted to push you two together. That didn’t mean she had to be nice, though. She was your sister, after all. 

“Hey, just remember-” she said, smirking, “I had him first.” You laughed, turning to the stairs, making it to the first landing before turning to her with a bit of drama added to the spin.

“Yeah, but who’s more likely to keep him?” She held up her middle finger, and before you turned, you gave her your signature ‘fuck you, too’, which was a middle finger that you laid over your tongue. She always caught the subtext, whenever you whipped it out.

“Yuck!” 

-🦌 Roe

[stargaze-sunflower]

(Not) Okay

Summary: After finding out that Dewey had been researching their mom on his own, Huey and Louie are surprisingly forgiving. Dewey doesn't think he deserves it.

Ao3 Link Word Count: 1737

Dewey didn’t usually have difficulty sleeping. Not like Louie, who’d always had more trouble than most, or Huey, who got caught up in his head sometimes and couldn’t seem to shake it. Dewey wasn’t like that. If he ever couldn’t fall asleep, it was most commonly caused by lingering excitement over an adventure they’d gone on that day, or the anticipation of an adventure they’d go on tomorrow. He was used to those types of jitters. He could handle it.

He couldn’t handle this.

It was late enough in the night that it was now classified as early in the morning, and Dewey hadn’t slept a wink. He’d been stuck tossing and turning and staring up at the bottom of Huey’s bunk for hours, at this point, and he was sick of it. He wondered if this was how Louie felt, when he was too restless to sleep. He wondered if this was how Huey felt, when he couldn’t quiet his mind. A little irrationally, Dewey wondered if he’d ever sleep again. Dramatic, he knew, but he was getting desperate, and he was so tired. A demon dog had chased him today, on top of the emotional typhoon he’d had to endure, and those things together tended to be exhausting.

.

(“How could you keep this from us?”

“I was trying to protect you from a potentially devastating revelation!”

“Or you just kept it to yourself so you could feel special. Classic Dewey. She’s our mom!”)

.

Dewey’s breath hitched as the scene played in his head for what had to be the hundredth time in the past few hours, and he brought his hands up to drag them down his face in frustration, groaning quietly. He tried to tell himself that it was over, that Huey and Louie had forgiven him for keeping secrets, but all he could remember was the looks on their faces when they’d found out what he’d been doing. All he could see whenever he closed his eyes was Huey’s hurt glare, and Louie on the floor cradling their mom’s jacket, smaller than he’d ever seen him.

God, he’d messed up so bad.

‘I messed up I messed up I messed up—’

The thought was echoing in his head, bouncing off the edges and coming back stronger – louder. It was all he could think, and his lungs were growing tighter and tighter, his breaths coming shorter and shorter, and he was blindsided with the worry that he was about to die, that this was his punishment for keeping secrets and hurting his brothers when all he ever wanted to do was keep them safe.

He tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry. All the moisture in his body seemed to be directed at the tears that he’d just noticed were rolling down his face, and he kicked his blanket off of his legs in a fit of panic, suddenly unable to cope with the feeling of it against his skin.

The rush of cold air that followed the removal of the blanket shocked him into being able to focus just enough to hear someone climbing up the ladder to his bunk. A new and different type of panic overtook him then, because the last thing he felt he deserved in that moment was sympathy. Or worse – pity. Whoever it was had been through enough today without adding Dewey’s little freak-out into the mix.

He wiped at his eyes frantically, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hide the evidence of his fragile emotional state, but trying anyway. The mattress dipped next to him, and Dewey chanced a look out of the corner of his eye.

It was Louie, of course, because who else would it be. If Dewey was having trouble sleeping, then certainly his brother had to be struggling as well. Louie had issues falling asleep on good days. Still, though—

“Sorry to wake you up,” Dewey said, his voice shaky but not quite as obviously distressed as he thought it’d be. Maybe he could be an actor one day, after all. “I mean, did I— Were you—?”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Louie said quietly, pulling his knees up to his chest and leaning against the wall next to him. He shrugged jerkily, and it tugged at something in Dewey’s chest. “I just— I dunno. Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” Dewey repeated incredulously, still feeling very much like he’d run a marathon and was seconds away from passing out. “I should be asking you that. I’m the one who— I got us into that whole mess today! I’m the one who didn’t tell you about— I didn’t— I—”

.

(“Louie, are you okay?”

“You kept a secret about mom. That is not okay.”)

.

“Hey, Dew?” Louie asked gently, though with a slight tremor to his voice. Dewey hummed to show he was listening, though it was higher pitched than normal. “Can I— Is it okay if I touch you?”

Dewey took a brief moment to process the question, nodding his head almost immediately after. Louie grabbed his hand, and Dewey held on for dear life, forcing himself to reconnect with the present and keep himself grounded. It was only working a little bit.

A sob caught in his throat. He was tired, and he kind of felt like he wanted to go home, but he was already there. It was a confusing feeling.

What he really wanted was to feel safe, and whole, and loved, even though he’d made the worst mistake of his life. Even though he wasn’t sure if he’d earned it.

“You’re okay, Dew, I promise,” Louie said, and he sounded worried, scooting a little closer on the bed. “Breathe with me, okay?”

Louie brought their connected hands over to rest against his chest, demonstrating slow, even breaths. Dewey did his best to follow, and it took longer than he felt like it should have, but Louie never rushed him, and he didn’t seem angry with him.

Eventually, the vice around his chest and lungs seemed to loosen, and his mind cleared a little. All he was left with was his exhaustion, and yet he still didn’t think he could fall asleep. Regardless, he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, avoiding Louie’s concerned gaze and yet still holding tightly to his hand.

Somewhere outside, an owl hooted.

“So, uh, do you want to talk about that?” Louie asked after a few long seconds of silence. Dewey could feel his younger brother’s heart pounding, and he felt a stab of familiar guilt. ��I mean, panicking and all is never fun, so… I mean, usually I’m the one who needs the help, so I don’t know if I did it right. The helping part, I mean, ‘cause Huey usually does that. This kinda felt like the blind leading the blind, you know? But I hope you— I hope you feel better, and if you want to talk about it, I, uh, I can listen.”

Dewey blinked in surprise at the rush of nervous words that had just come from his brother, and he turned to look at Louie, who was looking back at him anxiously, but with care in his eyes. For some reason, it made him tear up.

“Why would you want to?” Dewey asked – blurted, really, because he certainly hadn’t authorized that coming out of his mouth. He could roll with it, though. He kind of wanted an answer, anyway. “I was terrible to you and Huey today. I’ve been hiding things for months, I—”

He cut himself off and looked out the window to pull himself together. There was no moon in the sky tonight, and that bothered him, for some reason.

“…I’m sorry,” Dewey finished lamely. It didn’t feel like enough. “I’m so sorry.”

“We forgave you, Dew,” Louie reminded him, squeezing his hand. “It wasn’t, like, okay, but I don’t blame you. Huey doesn’t either.”

“You should,” Dewey insisted, swallowing past the lump in his throat, staring at their dark bedroom. “I know it hurt you guys. I know I messed up.”

“I mean, yeah,” Louie said, though not unkindly. “You’re not perfect, Dewey. You’re gonna make mistakes sometimes. I’m sure Mom made mistakes, too.”

“But—”

“I’m not gonna lie to you,” Louie continued, cutting him off. “It did hurt me. It still does, honestly. But I— I mean, I get it, I guess.”

Dewey stared down at his bed, feeling the pit in his stomach like a weight dragging him down.

“You were always the one who was asking Uncle Donald about mom. I knew it was important to you.” Louie pulled his knees tighter to his chest, still holding Dewey’s hand and not seeming keen to let go. “I guess I never really gave you much reason to think that it was important to me, too.”

“She’s our mom. I knew you cared about it,” Dewey said, and then he sighed. “I just— It wasn’t much, at first, but it went from 0 to 100 real quick, and I didn’t want to pull you guys into it. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Oh, but risking yourself was fine?” Louie snapped, and Dewey winced. His voice softened when he kept speaking. “You’re my brother, Dew. I want to help. You don’t have to carry all this on your own.”

“I thought I could wait until I had good news to tell you,” Dewey said quietly.

“In this economy?” Louie asked wryly, and Dewey snorted.

“I guess it was pretty stupid,” Dewey admitted, his shoulders dropping.

“We’re all entitled to our moments of questionable intelligence,” Louie said, pressing closer to his side with a yawn. He lazily raised his free hand to poke at Dewey’s chest. “I forgive you. I’m not holding a secret grudge. I really don’t have the energy for it.”

“Yeah. Okay,” Dewey said, a smile tugging at his beak. “No more secrets, Lou. I promise.”

“Does this mean that you’re gonna tell me where you hid the TV remote?”

“Come on, let’s not get too crazy.”

Louie giggled quietly under his breath, and Dewey grinned, resting his chin on top of Louie’s head as his younger brother collapsed onto him.

“You gonna stay here for tonight?” Dewey asked, already beginning to draw his blanket over them.

“As if I’d leave,” Louie said, casual as ever, and Dewey’s grin fell into something softer.

Yeah, things were okay.

(This is a gift for @reesiereads Ily)

[stusbunker]

Hunters’ Crossing: Moving In

A Kinky Swingin’ Supernatural AU

Featuring: Dean Winchester x Wife!Reader

Written for: @spnkinkbingo

Word Count: 3535

Square Filled: Teasing

Summary: Dean and you work on moving into your new house. Which just happens to be Sam and Rowena’s old place. A neighbor stops by while Dean is out, welcoming you to the cul-de-sac. As the day goes on, you enjoy distracting your husband until he has had enough.

Warnings: 18yo+, shower sex, oral sex (both), penetrative sex, fingering, anal sex, analingus, dirty talk, just happy couple smut.

Pre-read by @cracksinthewalls & @thoughtslikeaminefield​ (who also made the awesome header).

    Dean had been up and itching to get the show on the road for over an hour. The only things left unboxed in the two bedroom ranch, you had been renting since moving back to town, was the mattress, bedframe and a change of clothes. As of sometime after midnight, Dean and you were packed and ready to go. Unfortunately for your husband, you were still sound asleep.

    He started pacing, or what sounded like pacing from your exhausted face-down state. It turned out he had started moving the boxes from your room to the driveway.

    Dean wasn’t being loud, but it was really fucking early for that. 

    You crawled out of bed just after eight, shrugged into the old top and leggings you had left out the night before, and prayed he had gotten coffee. 

    “And she’s up,” Dean snapped his fingers in excitement. You grumbled your good morning, but snuggled into his side as he dialed Benny, his lead mechanic and the guy who was bringing the trailer. You nursed your coffee (with all the right fixings) as Dean finished his call.

    “Can you believe where we’re gonna be livin’?” Dean kissed your temple, then looked down at you like a kid on the way to Disneyland.

     “Uh, yeah, so can the bank account. You’re lucky you’re so cute and Sam’s lucky you have a soft spot for him,” you finished on a mumble.

    “You love that house, don’t be like that,” Dean tisked at you.

    “I do! I do. It’s just, I could have slept for like four more hours,” you whined. “Thank you for my coffee.”

    Dean rolled his eyes at you, but you could tell he was pleased he had done good. You left a quick kiss on his jaw before he walked away to start hauling more things outside. 

    Barely ten minutes had passed when Benny and Bobby sauntered up the walkway. Before you had even metabolized the caffeine, the first trip was underway.

    Hunter’s Crossing was the last cul-de-sac at the end of Lawrence Lane. Which ran the length of the development known as the Ethereal Estates. The four bedroom, three bathroom McMansion that you and Dean had purchased from his younger brother Sam was on the northern corner, facing south. Dean pulled the Impala into the garage with Benny and Bobby with the truck and trailer filling the driveway right behind you. 

    As you climbed from the passenger’s seat, Benny let out an impressed whistle.

    “Damn, Boss, you’ve gone full country club on us,” the large man drawled.

    “Can it, nimrod, or you’ll give him an even bigger head,” Bobby warned. Benny and you both laughed.

    “You done? Cuz, last time I checked you can walk and talk,” Dean snipped, only half-heartedly. Bobby gave you a gentle smile as you shivered against the early spring air. You all fell in line behind Dean and awaited your assignments.   

    Two hours into hauling furniture, Garth showed up to give a hand. Unlike Bobby and Benny, who worked directly for Dean at Winchester & Son’s garage, Garth, a long time friend, was an accountant who helped Dean learn the books when John retired. His wife Bess was the kindest person you had ever met.

    You were settled into organizing mode when the guys left to pick up the last round of boxes. Then, the doorbell rang.

     A man stood on the front porch, draped against the doorframe like he had known you for years, tucked into a fitted black suit paired with the softest looking tee shirt you had ever seen. His mischievous eyes crinkled above a flirtatious smirk as he introduced himself.

    “Baz, hi, I’m at the center of the loop. Welcome to the neighborhood, wish it were over better circumstances, but happy to keep it in the family, as it were,” he rolled off before you could even reply. He must be in sales, you thought.

    “Hi,” you gave him your name, finding it easy to smile under his charms.

    “You're the sister-in-law? So where’s brother dearest?” He teased in a tonal accent.

    “Oh you know, sent him to do the heavy lifting. They’ll be back before long.” You stood up straighter.

    “Right, well, we’re having a dinner party next week. It’s kind of a regular thing, we take turns hosting, and my wife’ll kill me if I don’t pass on the invite. Friday at seven? We have cocktails, and get gussied up for one another,” he mentioned passively, but you caught the drift. It wasn’t a backyard barbecue. “It’s all a bit pretentious if you ask me-- Well, who am I kidding, right?”

    You couldn’t help but giggle a bit at his expense. “It sounds great--- Bash?”

    “Baz,” his voice sizzled along the last letter.

    “Baz, sorry. Uh, I’ll have to check with Dean, but I don’t think we have anything going on.” You gave him your best customer smile.

    “How about I’ll just pop back when you’re better settled? I didn’t mean to pressure you, love,” Baz waved as he backed off the porch.

    “You’re fine, really,” you apologized. “It’s just the first day, a lot to sort out.”

    “Of course! Take your time. Right, well, I’ll be seeing you, ta ta,” Baz waved with a tight lipped grin.

      You closed the door and exhaled. That was more than you had heard from your neighbors in the three years you had lived at your last place. It was kind of exciting getting an invitation on the first day, now if you could just convince your husband to go. But Dean didn’t really get ‘gussied up’ for much.

      Dean found you in the kitchen, kneeling on the counters as you sorted the plates. There was so much space, everything was able to get its own shelf. You heard him start the tap, just out of your line of sight. Quickly, you sensed his amusement as you continued to stack and place the piles by size.

    “Don’t laugh at me, it’s easier this way,” you said without looking at him. When he didn’t reply, you grew curious to what he was up to, slowly you turned around to find him leaning against the island which held the double sink, eyes firmly on your ass. You sighed, but leered back at him, down to just his t-shirt after the last of your belongings had been unloaded. He wiped his wet lips with the hem of his shirt, flashing the sweaty plane of his abs at you.

    “Don’t mind me, carry on,” Dean sassed, waving you back to the task at hand.

    It was your turn to roll your eyes, pushing off the counter with an exaggerated arched back. You broke down the box and moved onto the next, knowing Dean was enjoying his water break more than he should.

     “Why don’t you call for pizza? Get the guys fed for all their help,” you suggested as you climbed back up to stock another set of cabinets, this time with glassware.

     Dean nodded before he finished off the last of his water. As he scrolled through his phone for a number, you remembered your visitor.

     “Babe? You got anything going on on Friday?” You watched him think.

     “No, why?” Dean didn’t look up, brow scrunched in concentration.

     “We were invited to the neighbors’ for a dinner party,” you sing-songed the last words, emphasizing the level of chic.

     “What neighbors?” Dean paused.

      “The ones in the big house in the middle. Baz, was his name. Said they do it a lot and take turns hosting,” you shrugged. “Could be fun. It was nice to be welcomed to the neighborhood.”

     “How long was this guy here?” Dean’s face froze in suspicion.

     “He just stopped by!” You chuckled aghast, but you couldn’t hide the blush Dean’s interrogation had brought back.

     “So, what, he just conveniently shows up to check out the hot new neighbor when he saw us leave?” Dean shook his head and stood straight, squaring off. “I don’t know, sounds like a creepy thing to do.”

     “Shut up, he’s married! He said his wife would kill him if he didn’t extend the invitation. Calm down, would ya?” You hopped down to face him. Dean grumbled and went back to his phone. “Hey?”

     “What?” Dean huffed.

      “I love you.” You placed your chin on his shoulder as he got over his temporary pouting.

       “Yeah?” Dean cocked an eyebrow, and smirked at you.

       “Yep.” You popped the p. 

       “You want the usual?” Dean put his phone to the opposite ear. 

       “Please?” You grinned, as he settled against the sink once more.

         His fingertips swatted the curve of your hip as you walked away.

    You had left an entire room for the empty boxes. Without enough furniture to fill the space and after Sam and Rowena sold off half of theirs to cover the costs of the divorce, it was easy to let the cardboard pile up as the day went on. As you waited for lunch to arrive, you trudged through the living room to drop off another few flattened boxes. 

    Dean asked Benny and Garth to reassemble your bed and the guest bed upstairs, while he and Bobby organized tools and lawn equipment in the garage. You could see Dean and the older man talking through the window in the study, or the current box depot. Your husband had a fantastic profile and you took a few moments to appreciate it.

    Slowly you tore yourself from your reverie and started to break down the remaining intact boxes. You quickly grew overheated and bent over to crack the window. You caught Dean’s eye as you wrenched the stiff windowpane up. He was watching you from the tops of his eyes, mouth open as his tongue played with his top teeth.

  �� He always had such a sinful mouth.

    The glint of chrome flashed from his window up to yours, the wrenches he was lining up nearly forgotten as you ducked your head out the window, strategically pinning your breasts between your folded arms. He was not shy about taking in the show, his eyes grew dangerous with want. 

     There was a sudden pounding on the front door. Just as quickly as you draped yourself out the window, you rocked back and away from Dean’s hungry glare.

      The beer bottle was cold against your lips as you let the tangy liquid wash down the mouthful of pizza you had practically inhaled. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the smell wafted in from off the porch. Best pizza around and you were finally in the delivery radius, suburbia already had its perks.

      “Save some for us, darlin’,” Benny teased, as he cracked off the top to his bottle.

       "Hey, I'm not the one driving anywhere, you get your one, the rest are mine," you sassed back. 

       You took another sip, locking eyes with your husband across the table. He licked his lips before taking a generous swallow of beer. A familiar heat sizzled in his eyes.

       "Good to know who's really in charge," Bobby nudged Garth to hand him his beer, which Garth passed on.

       "I don't want to get drunk," the skinny man reasoned.

       "Yeah, and I don't want to have to call Bess to pick you up," Dean agreed and took the offered beer from Bobby, though his was nearly full.

      "Somebody's ready to celebrate," Bobby teased.

       "They're ready for something," Benny taunted. "A little horizontal mambo seems to be in the cards."

       "It has been a long day, a little might be all he's got left," Bobby agreed.

       You almost spit out your beer as you giggled with their banter. Dean chugged his beer and rolled his shoulders.

          "Mind your business, or I'll have you work late every Friday until I'm sick of looking at ya," Dean said after a faint belch.

          "Yes, sir," Benny nodded, smirking at you with a little wink. You shook your head and sighed. The food quickly disappeared alongside the beer, leaving you all stuffed and lethargic. You rolled your shoulders and followed the guys out through the garage. Dean shook hands goodbye while you leaned against the double wide door frame, smiling and waving. You were grateful for all they had done to get you settled in.

    “Have a good weekend, boys!” you called, watching them climb into the truck. Dean sauntered back to your side, sweat stained shirt rumpled, hair askew, and handsome as ever.

    “Ready to go break in that fancy shower?” he asked, fingertip dragging your hair from your pulse point. A devilish chill ran down your spine, you couldn’t help but shiver from his touch.

    “I am beat, Hot Stuff,” you lamented. “A shower does sound amazing though.”

    “Let’s get you naked, then we’ll see who’s beat,” Dean punned horribly.

    You groaned and then gave him a meager chuckle. “Do you even hear yourself sometimes?”

    “I’m fucking hilarious, it’s one of the reasons you married me,” Dean insisted, leading you back into the house by the small of your back. You stomped through the mudroom and passed the kitchen to the stairs, every step up felt like you had concrete bricks for feet.

    “No rush or anything,” Dean teased, hands firmly on your hips, always so supportive.

    “Why did we buy a two story house?”! You fell dramatically forward, slumped on the landing, with your legs and arms askew like limp noodles. “Can I just nap here first? It’s so far!”

    Dean stood two steps behind you, hands on his hips and bitch face on. “Really?”

    You rolled to your back, knees bent and propped yourself up on your elbows, as if it was the hardest thing in the world. Starring up at his annoyed face, you got creative.

    “Please? Just take a little break with me?” You opened your legs suggestively, seeing his eyes rake over your body before he rolled them in mock annoyance.

    “Five minutes, then I’m getting clean, with or without you,” Dean warned. He fell into the cradle of your thighs, his chest was flush with your heat, as his face burrowed into your cleavage. His arms snaked around your shoulders, holding you up to him like a pillow. It would have been uncomfortable, if he didn’t feel so damn good squishing you into the plush carpet.

    Every inch he touched burned through your clothing, the radiant heat of his body oozing into your tired muscles, turning your blood into molten sludge, pooling at your core. Dean hummed and shifted above you, the tip of his nose teasing a nipple.

    “I can’t wait to fuck you in every room of this house,” Dean murmured, voice husky and full of promise. “Gonna make you scream my name until there is no doubt every inch of this place belongs to me.”

    “To us,” you replied, pulling his face up to look at your lust blown eyes.

    “Just you and me,” Dean agreed, kissing a clothed tit, and then the next. He slid up on his toes until his hard edges crooked against your welcoming curves. Then he kissed you blind.

    You twisted your hands into his hair and the back of his shirt, clinging to him as he sucked every memory of exhaustion from your mind. The satisfaction of a day’s work done and the hope of new beginnings flooded into your already happy existence, filling you with a blissed out giddiness as Dean began to grind his hips against you. You gasped, breaking the kiss, before dragging his shirt over his head.

    He leaned back and placed a swift kiss on your lips. “Five minutes are up.”

    You groaned in dismay as Dean untangled himself from your limbs and climbed the last six steps to the second floor. 

    “You coming or what?” He barked at you, belt already flapping open, erection poking his shorts out of his fly. 

    Dean usually hated shower sex, too many slippery surfaces and not a lot of space to get things done. But now that you had a walk in shower stall, custom-made for his giant brother, Dean had become an enthusiast. 

    What started on the stairs, led to him staying dressed on the bottom half until you were completely bare. Then he started the water, letting it get as close to boiling as he could stand and how he knew you liked it. He escorted you under the massive showerhead and pulled back your hair, letting the water soak every inch of your skin. 

    He wouldn’t let you touch him. 

     Then he started to scrub, louva sudsy and soothing over your shoulders, under your arms, around your breasts, leaving the parts that needed him most tight and wanting. Once you were as clean as he was going to let you get, Dean brought out the shampoo, letting you finish, not trusting himself to be gentle enough with your tresses.

     It took him less than five seconds to finally get naked.

     Once your hands reached above your head, Dean started his attack. He lapped one nipple into his hungry mouth as you groaned. Dean watched you the entire time as he mouthed your tits, wanting to push you to the edge as many times as he could get away with.

     Fucking tease.

     Then he moved between your legs, and the way he left parts of you unwashed all made sense. Because he wanted to taste you, not your floral body wash. He fell to his knees and hooked a thigh over his shoulder, leaving rough kisses on each thigh. Back and forth he went until you were dizzy and whimpering. He rinsed his hands and licked his finger tips for good measure, watching you wait for him to get on with it.

     Then he began to stroke your folds. Ever so carefully, he pulled you open, cherishing the way you quaked for him. Your wetness only aiding in the tortuously slow glide of his fingers, front to back, back to front. After more breaths than you could keep track of, Dean pressed into you, two calloused fingers as deep as they could go.

     You grasped his neck, desperate to hold on, because as soon as he would, you needed Dean’s tongue on your throbbing clit.

    “Whoa--- everything alright up there?” Dean said with laughter in his voice.

    “God, fuck, Dean,” you begged.

    “Yeah?”

    “Please, stud, I need you,” you panted, nails digging into his back.

    “Might want to think about how you were acting all day then. Climbing around like a jungle cat. Practically flashing me and Bobby in the garage. Flirting with the neighbors,” Dean tisked at you. “I’m just giving you what you gave me.”

    Then he shut up and put out. That sinful mouth decadently pulled and puckered every inch of flesh, until you were screaming over the torrent of the shower. Once his tongue joined his fingers, you were gone. Liquid heat squeezed out of you as your body shuddered out the aftermath, thanking his skillful digits for their efforts.

    At long last, you were bent in half, hands braced against the intricate tile as he speared into you from behind. Your body fighting to keep the water out, which only pushed Dean to thrust harder against the unrelenting tightness. Your legs were going to give out soon, it was all too much, the warmth of the shower and the way, even on your tiptoes, Dean had to crouch with his bowed legs to hit your sweet spot with every single stroke.

    When he smacked your ass, you faltered, elbows bending and falling forward. He caught you, slowly easing out of your abused cunt, until you were back on steady feet. You turned to kiss his pink lips, still heady with your juices. Carefully Dean reached behind you to turn off the water, brushing his chest against yours. You reached up and pinched his nipple. In return, he let his hand drop down to cup your mound, tapping a gentle rhythm across your slit.

    “Ready for that nap, now?” He offered, kissing your temple.

    “Definitely.

    You spent the rest of the weekend unpacking and screwing, just like Dean wanted: in every room of the house.

    He ate you out as a pre-breakfast in bed, first thing Sunday morning, slow and dirty. The noises that came from his plush lips made you writhe just as much as the work his tongue put in. You sucked him off while he made you a proper meal, but only during the prep work as bacon spatter is nothing to toy with.

    You rode him while he tried to watch opening week baseball highlights in your new living room, your bare legs deliciously smooth against the leather of the couch. He took your ass after he watched you doing laundry, bending down to pull the hot towels out of the dryer was too much for him. So, he dragged you up stairs to a spare bedroom, licked you clean and then worked you twice over before slamming home and filling you filthy.

    Moving was the best idea you’d ever had. You loved the house and couldn’t wait to get to know your neighbors. Life was good, you just didn’t realize it could get even better.

Tagging: @dolphincliffs @fangirlxwritesx67 @foxyjwls007 @akshi8278 @dontshootmespence @smi727 @ericaprice2008 @deandreamernp @mrswhozeewhatsis @itmighthavebeenintentional

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[murderousginger]

We Move Easy

Peaky Blinders fic

Cops & Robbers part 8 -- FINALE

Warnings: Fluff. Little Angst. They’re criminals guys, they do bad things.

Word count:4,385

Note: This is the end, guys! I hope you like it. 

You woke up alone. Loud voices echoed downstairs and came in through the door that was ajar. You heard John's and Arthur's roaring laughter and Ada yelling at them to quiet. Your mouth was dry and a light headache haloed your head. The night before was a blur, but you were still in the collared flower dress Ada gave to you to wear. 

You stood up and did your best to smooth the creases and fix the collar. Your feet were dirty, proving the events of the night weren't dreamt. You really had tried to barge into Sabini's -- now Tommy's -- club and stab the man. Instead, you were dragged back to Ada's and fell asleep cuddled against the man you were hurt by the most. 

You sighed, smoothed the skirt of the dress and made your way downstairs, following the laughter to the dining room. The table was filled with breakfast foods; everyone filled their plates greedily. Ada sat beside James, her hands massaging her temples as John and Arthur sat across from her horsing around. Neither looked like they slept yet but were still hyper from the night. Tommy, of course, took the head of the table. He was the first to notice you watching the happenings, and gave you a small nod as he exhaled his morning cigarette. 

"Good morning, everyone," you said, walking to the table and sitting beside John, "did you boys have an eventful night?"

"Did we ever," John said and elbowed Arthur, "we had a right celebration after our victory. Tom must have had some fun himself since he left for a smoke and never came back."

"Boss man must'ov got him a girl, eh?" Arthur joked before pointedly eyeing you. "Or did he come back early?"

Tommy hummed noncommittally and Ada looked between you both nervously. 

"Ada and I had a girl's night," You said, watching Ada shift in her seat and Tommy give you a warning look, "Like old times."

You filled your plate with a random assortment of foods and picked at it.

"We had such fun drinking wine and catching up that it went a little to my head this morning," Ada said, still rubbing her temples. "How are you fairing, (Y/N)?"

"I'm fine," you said stiffly. 

"Ey," John said as he looked over at you concerned "what's that bruise from?"

John smacked Arthur away from him as he turned and ran a finger over the faint bruise along your cheek. You flinched and caught his hand. 

"It's nothing," you said with a forced laugh while you glared at Tommy, "probably just a late comer from the business the other day. Did you ever sleep?"

Arthur chuckled. John shook you free, watching you closely before returning back to his antics. 

"No," Arthur said as he bit into some eggs, "had too much snow to come down."

"Likely to mean a quiet ride home once you lot pass out," Ada said as she dropped her hands from her head and reached for some fruit. 

You grunted and started eating. Arthur and John continued horsing around while eating and making the majority of the noise. James stayed quiet, watching the dynamics of the group. You gave him a small smile that he returned before he looked over at Tommy and turned sallow. Your brows knitted together as you looked over. Tommy's jaw was clenched as he stared at James. 

"And what about you, Tommy?" You called with a raised brow over the rough housing. "Still starving? You should probably eat something other than that cigarette."

Tommy assessed you cooly, detached almost. 

"I suppose I should eat before we're all back home," he said. 

"We?" You said, your eyes fluttered even though you had already locked your jaw. "Do you have room for everyone? I could always stay with Ada and worry about returning later. You boys were allowed your fun, I should be allowed mine."

"I have plenty of room," Tommy countered, "If you want a night out on the town, I can do that later. Harry should be expecting you for your shift, tonight, eh?"

"Harry didn't seem to be bothered about last night," you pushed as you locked eyes with Tommy. "He might not even need me with your growing enterprise, yeah? I could easily move into my old job and get you boys set up in the club here."

"Trying to leave us again, (Y/N)?" John asked, jumping into the conversation once he stopped his own with Arthur. "You'd only just got into the fold."

You let Tommy win as your eyes dipped before meeting John's worried glance.

"It's only a thought," you said softly. 

"We can talk on that later, (Y/N)," Tommy said loudly. "Today, you're coming home with us. We'll take you to your flat for some of your things and you'll stay at my house until we can clean yours up." 

Your eyes widened at the statement and the table immediately quieted. 

"I'm not staying in your house, Thomas," you said with a scoff. 

"It's not a request," he said as he rolled his eyes. "You can stay in Ada's old room. Just until your flat is cleaned and we know all the danger is passed."

"You beat Sabini," you argued. "Polly shot Campbell. What other danger is there for me but you?"

Tommy's eyes rippled with hurt before his face became cool and placid like still waters.

"It's not negotiable," he said. 

"Well then," Ada said with a tight smile as her eyes darted to everyone's faces, "does anyone want to start drinking again? I do."

Not long after everyone had their fill, Tommy drove the car around and had everyone say their goodbyes to Ada. Tommy all but pushed you into the passenger seat and Arthur and John crawled into the back. Not ten minutes passed before they both were sleeping on each other while Tommy drove the winding roads home. 

Tommy kept his eyes on the road until you heard a small snore from Arthur. He looked back at his brothers before he glanced over at you and cleared his throat. 

"I'm sorry," Tommy said softly. "I should have known someone would catch on about you."

"What about me, Thomas?" You pressed. "What are they catching on to, because I don't think I know myself."

"The others don't know of your taking," he said. "I think it's best if we try to forget it. The past is past."

He bit his lip as he watched you. The air was thick with words not spoken, but you let the silence hang between you like a man waiting for the noose.

"If you want a night out, let me take you," Tommy said, his hands and eyes steady on the task of driving. "I want to impress you."

"I don't want a fancy night out where you try to stuff my eyes with lights and blind me in decadence as payment for my silence," you laughed. 

"Let me take you to the pictures then," he retorted. "It's not for your silence."

"I have no use for fake stories on a screen," you said as you crossed your arms. 

"What do you want, then?" He said, looking over at you finally. "What's the way to your heart then, eh? Violence? Business?"

"Freedom," you sighed as you looked out of the car. The ride was silent the rest of the way back.

----

After Tommy dropped John back at his home, the rest of you went to your flat. You packed a bag of clothes and things quickly and climbed back into the car with a scowl. It was absolutely wrecked in there. The mattress and chairs were cut open, everything was tossed. Anything glass was shattered. Replacing everything would be impossible in one go if you wanted to keep eating and pay rent.

Arthur had woken up once John was dropped off and now watched you both silently from the back. No one talked. 

When you got to the house, you were the first to leave the car and bound into the house. You raced up the stairs. You caught yourself as you slowed to peek at Tommy's room, the place that was your haven just the other night, but you forced yourself to go down to Ada's old room, just one over. Arthur's room was across from yours with Finn's room and the bathroom at the end of the hall. You dropped your bag onto the floor and tried to settle in as you sat down on the bed. 

The room was about the same size as Tommy's and you realized quickly you did not want to stay in it for long. Your chest bubbled with anxiety and your lungs constricted as you looked at the empty walls. You felt trapped. 

You jumped from the bed as you heard the boys come in downstairs. You closed the door and grabbed a new dress from the bag and changed, hauling yourself to the small bathroom to freshen up. 

Before the men could come upstairs to find you, you bounded down the steps and nearly knocked Arthur over. He grabbed your forearms to steady himself as you spun around him and kissed his cheek before running toward the door. 

"Off to see if Harry needs help early, bye!" You called over your shoulder. 

You were out there door and into the early afternoon air before anyone could argue. You hadn't even looked Tommy's way. If he wanted to be silent, you would show him how silent you could be.

You made it to The Garrison in record time, only stopping by the bakery on the way to grab Harry's favorite sweet and a snack for you for dinner later. You opened the heavy doors, putting on a big smile as you searched for Harry. 

"I got you a treat," you sang as you dropped it in front of him and rounded the counter to put your apron on. "For not being here yesterday. I'll start early today."

Harry eyed you but took the treat. He bit into it and purred before he gave you a half-hearted glare. 

"Don't make it a habit," he said. "Not coming in, that is. I won't turn down a sweet, little bird."

Your fake smile broke into a real one and you nodded to him before you started getting the shelves ready for the night. 

The night was long and uneventful. Most Shelby's stayed away, probably resting from the previous night's antics. Finn and Isaiah and their group of younger boys came in, happily ordering beers all night, but otherwise the pub was pretty quiet with regulars doing the normal.

Harry sent you home before midnight. He said he could handle the rest, and your feet hurt from all of the standing so you were ready to go to sleep. You left for Tommy's house after you cleaned the tables and told Harry goodnight. 

The walk in the dark never bothered you much before, maybe it was arrogance or maybe it was familiarity. The walk that night had you on edge, though. Too much had happened recently and being alone made your head fill with fears and you jumped at any noise. You got to the house without a problem, but your heart was pounding anyway. None of the lights were on, so you slipped through the door and slinked up the stairs. You tiptoed past Tommy's room, his door open and the candle by the bed illuminating his bare chest. He was laying there, his hands behind his head on his pillow, his pants loosened but not off. His eyes to the ceiling.

"You're home," he said as he laid still.

"I'm here," you whispered back.

You pulled your eyes from his form and walked back to your room, shutting the door behind you. You leaned against the door and shut your eyes.

You ached to join him, to be comforted in his arms, but you fought yourself. You didn't want to fall prey to 'Tommy being Tommy,' and if he wanted to be two ways -- one in the day and another in the night -- then you wouldn't make it easy on him. He would have to come to you.

You sighed and stepped away from the door, dressing into a nightgown and slid under the covers and shut your eyes. 

"Get some sleep, yeah?" 

Tommy's voice was muffled through the wall but still startled you. It was almost like he was in the room with you. You didn't reply.

----

A few nights later, you had woken up with a jolt as a warm hand covered your mouth. You grabbed the wrist and started to fight before you even opened your eyes. Tommy was at the edge of your bed, hushing you. His face was covered in shadow.

"You were thrashing with nightmares again," Tommy said. "Your guilt and fear of those men is eating at you. I've heard it through the walls every night."

You bit his hand. He jerked away from you and you sat up to meet him eye to eye.

"What are you doing here?" You hissed. "Leave me to my own nightmares."

You had spent the past few days ignoring or avoiding him, only speaking when you had to. You tried to hide it, still treating the rest of the Shelby's the same. No one had mentioned it if they had noticed, but Tommy had grown more irritated and harder to avoid as the days went on. You spent most of your days out of the house and had spent extra hours at the pub.

"I can't take the digging in my head and you thrashing about," he said angrily. "Don't feel guilt over defending yourself."

You rolled your eyes and tried pushing him off your bed.

"Would you like to know what he felt?" Tommy whispered viscously, grabbing your hand and placing it on his throat. "Will that rid you of the demons in your head?"

You squeezed his throat for a moment and barred your teeth. It felt good to feel him swallow beneath your hand. You squeezed harder for a moment and glowed at the rush. The feeling terrified you. You faltered and dropped your hand.

"Why are you here?" You asked tiredly.

"Get dressed," he said as he stood up and walked toward the door. "I have something to show you."

You scoffed.

"Stop fighting me, woman, and get dressed," he hissed at you.

"Are you worried about my modesty?" You whispered incredulously as you stood from the bed and stared at his back. "Did the opium haze your memory?"

"Would you rather I watch?" He bit back and turned to you and crossed his arms. "Well, dress then." 

He gestured at you and you shifted, unsure of yourself under his gaze. It was dark and you could not see his expression, but you doubted it was desire.

"Can you please get dressed, (Y/N)?" He sighed. "I'd like to take you somewhere."

You bit your lip and nodded into the dark before you pulled out a dress and changed quickly. You watched his figure in front of you as you changed. Surely he couldn't see more than your outline in the dark.

"Alright," you said as you reached for his arm. "Let's go then."

Tommy took your hand and led you into the hall and down the stairs. You stifled a giggle as you reached the door. You were both grown but sneaking out like children. You reached the cool outdoor air and as soon as Tommy shut the door behind you, you let yourself giggle.

"Why are we sneaking around like teenagers, Tommy?" You asked as you twirled in the night air. "Isn't this what Finn's s'pose to do?"

He pulled you to him and caught one of your hands in his and started to slow dance to the quiet night. 

"Because it makes you young," he rumbled as you swayed. "And I like when you make me young."

You could almost see his eyes twinkle in the moonlight as he leaned down and kissed you softly. When he finally pulled away, you smiled.

"It's going to take a lot more than a kiss in the moonlight to win me over, Tommy Shelby."

"I've no doubt, love," he chuckled.

He pulled you with him toward the stables. He stopped you near the door and walked into the dark stalls without you. You could hear him as he rustled around and started soothing a horse in Romani in the dark. It sounded so similar to the times he soothed you when you were angry. Tommy's footsteps echoed closer as you watched him reappear with a black stallion in the doorway. You immediately cooed to the horse and ran your hands along his side and face. Even in the moonlight you could tell he was beautiful and sleek.

"He's beautiful, Tommy," you whispered.

"He's fast," he whispered back. 

He rounded the horse and wrapped himself around you tightly before his lips touched your ear. You leaned back into his chest for a moment. 

"I want to take you somewhere," he whispered as his hands found your hips. "Hike your skirts and I'll lift you."

Goosebumps tickled your neck as you did what he asked and he lifted you to sit on the horse. You squeezed your legs to stay on as you leaned forward and praised the horse for standing still. Tommy hadn't put a saddle or reigns on the stallion and you hadn't ridden bareback since you were children, so you clung to the horse for fear of sliding off. Tommy steadied himself and hopped on behind you. He leaned forward and patted the horse, whispering Romani words to it again. He leaned back to sit up straight and wrapped his arms around you to take hold of the horse's mane.

"Why do you treat me like a horse in need of soothing?" Your whisper had an edge to it and you felt him stiffen behind you. "The same voice you use for horses you've used on me."

"Because you're both wild," he rasped. 

You tried to turn to him but he wrapped you tighter into his arms as he gripped the mane. Your back was pressed to his chest and couldn't turn your head to verify what you already heard in his cracking voice. 

"Women and horses are always wild," he said. "And us men are just dogs nipping at your heels. Let's go."

He rode the horse through the open pastures and along the river until you could see a fire along the horizon and wagons littered near the shore. Hooting and hollering echoed along the bank and you could see dancing around the fire. 

"Are you ready?" Tommy whispered into your hair before he kicked at the horse and you went at a full run toward the party. 

You felt Tommy lean back and yip as you barrelled toward the wagons, finally slowing as you reached the edge. Tommy hopped off the stallion and opened his arms wide for you to slip off the horse. His hair was wild in the light of the flames and his cheeks had a flush from the chill of the night. You laughed as you slid into his arms and he spun you around, landing you on your feet beside him. He patted the horse and you stayed in his arms as you watched it wander off into the nearby field to eat. 

"Is that Tommy?" A man called as he appeared between the wagons. "Why, I haven't seen you at one of these since John's wedding. And who is your lovely lady?"

"Johnny!" Tommy called as he let you go and hugged the man.

Johnny's eyes flitted to you and back to Tommy as he said something in Romani in what sounded like a joking manner. Tommy chuckled and made a tsk sound before turning back to you. 

"Behave now, Johnny," he joked as he reached for your hand and pulled you next to him. "This is (Y/N)."

Johnny took your other hand and bowed his head before he kissed it and twirled you around. 

"Pleasure to meet you," he said as you giggled. "You've been hiding this one, Tommy boy, for good reason. Have a dance with an old man, lass, tonight's a night for fun."

You shot a glance to Tommy who smiled at the two of you and you nodded back to Johnny. He was already pulling you toward the fire, where dozens of people were dancing and playing instruments. 

"Careful, Dogs," Tommy called out as he appeared through the wagons and sat next to a few others on a log to watch you, "Keep those hands high or she'll cut you."

You watched Tommy light a cigarette before Johnny twirled you and pulled you into his arms. 

"I would expect no less from a woman who can keep Tommy in check," he laughed and danced you around the fire, weaving you in and out of other couples. 

Johnny grabbed a bottle from a passing man and took a long drink before handing it to you. You drank it without care and danced with abandon. Johnny howled as he twirled you faster. 

"Atta girl!" He called as you were traded to another and danced around the group, trading partners with dizzying speed as the music picked up faster and faster. 

You passed other women as you circled and twirled on and on. The world spun and faces flashed by you as the music went faster and faster and you all danced and passed, danced and passed until the music was at its peak and immediately stopped. You were flung into familiar arms as your laughter rang through the air and you met Tommy's twinkly blue eyes. He smiled down at you and lifted your arms to wrap around his neck as a slower song started to play. 

"Does Tommy Shelby dance?" You asked playfully. "I've never seen it."

"Can't have Johnny have all the fun," he chuckled as she moved your hips to the music. "He'd steal you away if I let him." 

"He's interested, is he?" You taunted as you twisted in Tommy's arms to dramatically look for Johnny, who was watching across the fire and shot you a wink. "Maybe I'll have a suitor after all."

Tommy chuckled as he pulled you back to him and growled lightly into your ear. 

"You're a hard woman to woo," he rumbled, giving you goosebumps as you swayed. 

"Is that what you're doing?" You breathed. "There's one problem with that, Shelby."

You looked up into his blue eyes as his brows knitted together in confusion. 

"You only want me in the dark," you pouted playfully but held an edge to your voice. "In the day you go about business and ignore me but in the shadows you soften. It's maddening."

"I live in the shadows, sweetheart," he said as he raised a hand from your hip and ran his thumb across your bottom lip. "I work in the dark and when I do join the light I wear a mask."

Tommy pulled your chin up to make you look down your nose at him.

"If that's something you don't want, I'll let you leave now," he said softly before he let your face go. "You can return to your flat and be a Blinder or a barmaid and I'll let you be. But I want you."

"I've never wanted a life in the light," you said and cocked your brow. "The shadows are much more comfortable. Felt safer with devils than I ever did saints."

Tommy smiled and leaned down to kiss you. His lips were soft at first but quickly his kiss engulfed you and his fingers dug into your skin. You stepped back a pace breathless before your mind clouded too much and you lost the words you had yet to say. The slow song had changed into a more up tempo one at some point that you couldn't quite place. 

"Oy, Tommy boy," you heard Johnny yell with a laugh over the fire. "Stop hogging my dance partner. (Y/N), pretty bird, come spin with me my love and leave that wild gypsy boy for a man."

Johnny called out to Tommy in Romani and yipped again before laughing.

"She's mine, Johnny," Tommy yelled back, eyes locked with yours. "You had your fun."

"So I'm claimed now, am I?" You teased. "Am I only claimed for the night or when your brothers can't see? Or maybe only when it's convenient?"

Tommy's hands pulled your hips to his until your lips grazed his own. 

"If you'll have me," he said as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip. "I'll claim you in the shadows and the light. In front of God and the devil himself."

"You'd make me a trophy." You whispered. "I don't want to be a pretty thing on your arm, Tommy. I'm not looking to be caged for my own protection. I'm a part of your business and I intend to stay that way."

"You've called me King Tommy for ages," he said as he kissed you on the lips. 

He kissed your jaw and made a trail of kisses down your neck. You felt butterflies and chills as you tilted your head back and closed your eyes. You noticed the redirection but decided to allow it for the moment. It felt too good not to.

"That's because you rule Birmingham," you said breathlessly. "And now London. You're like bloody Alexander the Great."

You pushed down a moan that began in your chest as his lips parted into a smile and he chuckled against your neck. 

"Well then," he said as he kissed back up your neck and held your face in his hands. He looked at you with soft eyes as he inhaled a shaky breath. 

"How would you like to be my queen, eh?" 

His voice was strong but his eyes danced over you in the light of the fire. Shadows crossed his face as he waited for your answer. You placed your hands on his and squeezed. You had never seen him look this young before.

"I'd want nothing more, Tommy Shelby."

[bonniebird]

A version of home

Sam Winchester x Reader / Dean Winchester x Reader (Not sure about the pairing yet)

AN: This is 100% a self-indulgent comfort fic I started for myself xD

Masterlist

“Bobby? Is everything ok?” Sam asked as he answered his phone. Dean frowned and glanced at his brother as he drove. There was a long silence as Sam listened to Bobby and Dean clicked his tongue impatiently as he waited for Sam to say something, anxiety bubbled bitterly in the pit of his stomach as Sam hummed a few times. He hated waiting for an update. 

The last he heard from Bobby, when he’d called that morning, everything was fine. He hadn't expected to hear from Bobby again, seeing as they were on their way to his house.

“Urm… yeah… let me check the map. We shouldn’t be too far from there. If you give me the address we can get there this afternoon.” Sam said as he started fumbling in the glove box for a pen and paper.

“Whats going on?” Dean asked quickly. He glanced quickly at Sam who frowned, a pen hanging from his mouth, as he dug into the back of the glove box and pulled a scrap of paper out.

“Just take the next left instead of going the back way to Bobby’s.” Sam said as he held the phone between his shoulder and ear, scribbling something on the paper. “Ok, we’re heading onto route ninety now.”

“So? What’s going on?” Dean asked as he sped up, watching Sam hang up and trace the route he’d set on the map. Dean’s tone was short and pensive, he was starting to worry but when he glanced at Sam again his expression made it easier for Dean to take a breath.

“Bobby needs us to pick something up from Presho, it’s only two and a half hours from Bobby’s. It looks like if we go this way we should pretty much pass right through.” Sam explained as he fumbled with one of the maps that he’d fished out of the glove compartment.

“Great, we’ll still make it in time for dinner. Apparently Bobby saved one of his neighbours and they dropped round apple crumble. It’s almost as good as apple pie!”

The drive to Presho didn’t take too long, the roads were clear and Dean sped along, able to zone out a little as the music blared. Sam had fallen asleep a good two hours before but as Dean pulled up outside of the motel Bobby had sent them to he emergency breaked which jerked Sam awake.

“Dean! Dude, come on.” Sam grumbled as he rubbed his face and looked around.

“Well we’re here. What was it that Bobby wanted you to get? I’m assuming some old books or something.”

“He didn’t really say. I figured that the address was for a library or a house. You’re sure this is right?” Sam asked as he glanced at the ordinary looking motel Dean had parked in front of.

They both stared up at the old building. There weren’t many cars in the parking lot and the E in the motel flickered every now and then. It hadn’t occurred to either of them that it was starting to get dark. A couple started walking over to the car and Sam pointed out that they could have something for Bobby, as they were holding a book shaped parcel wrapped up. The couple passed by as the back door of the Impala opened.

“Yes, Bobby. I see the old car. I’m getting in it now. I have all of my stuff! Bobby. I shipped the rest of my stuff to you last week.” You said as you slammed the car door shut. Sam and Dean stared at each other for a moment, Sam mouth Bobby’s name to Dean who shrugged. “Bobby it’s bad enough you won't let me stay out here by myself… It is not my fault that the werewolf totaled my car! I’m not careless, I'm just fast… Which sometimes appears to be careless.”

“Urm. Hey, I’m Dean… are we supposed to drop you off at Bobby’s or..?” Dean started as he turned in his seat. You’d already made yourself at home, feet up on the back seat as you sprawled over, your bags shoved in the footwell.

“Bobby wants to talk to the Idjits?” You said as you leant forwards between the front seats and Sam hurriedly took the phone. “Hi, I’m (Y/N).” You said and smiled at Dean who gave you a dubious smile.

“Oh, no everything is good Bobby.” Sam said as he hung up and handed back your phone. “Bobby might have told me that we were picking someone up. I was distracted when I was looking for the map.” Sam confessed. Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Will you sit in your seat… and don’t put your shoes up on my damn seats! I just cleaned them.” Dean complained as he started backing out of the motel parking lot. You gave him a challenging look before nodding, deciding to eat a snack so obnoxiously loud that it was hard for Dean to hide that he was irritated by the mess you were making, Sam was having a hard time not laughing at Dean. He got the impression you were going to give them, and Bobby a run for your money when it came to go along with what Bobby wanted.

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

“You boys are late.” Bobby called out as he hung up his latest call and started heading into the kitchen through the back entrance. Dean had hurried through the door first and dumped his duffle bag by the back door.

“Yeah, well. Next time you want me to pick someone up, call a taxi!” Dean said irritably as he rummaged in the fridge for a beer.

“(Y/N) being a pain?” Bobby asked and Dean grunted out a response as he headed to the living room.

“Dean doesn’t like it when people put dirty shoes on his seats.” Sam said as he lugged in several bags that Bobby knew were definitely yours. You’d been unhappy that he’d insisted that you came to stay with him for a while. At least you eventually agreed. You came in a few moments later with just two bags that looked rather light.

“Jeez Bobby! You harpe at me for being unorganised. Look at this place. You’d double the floor space if you put up a bookshelf.” You said as soon as you followed Sam into the living room.

“If you want it any other way then you can get to it yourself.” Bobby joked as he started dishing up the food one of his neighbours had sent over. She’d been doing it a lot since he’d saved her from whatever it had been he saved her from last month. Honestly hunts seemed to bleed into one and he was happy that he could spend a little time not thinking about it, even if it meant sitting in front of the tv with his dinner and the boys taking up the space on his sofa.

“Is every room in the house like this? No wonder you take so long getting back to the hunters that call you.” You said with a cheeky tone he tutted as he shook his head.

“You have a room and you’re getting free food. You don’t like it…”

“I can go somewhere else! Great, thanks Bobby. I’ll pass the message along to Ellen.” You said cheerfully as Bobby handed you a plate of food. You took up one of the armchairs at the edge of the room, starting to tuck into the meal. Honestly you could’t remember the last time you hadn’t just grabbed fast food.

“Whose Ellen?” Sam asked curiously as he shoved Dean with his foot as he settled into one side of the sofa.

“She runs the hunter bar up in Nebraska.” You answered casually before looking over at Bobby and adding. “I thought you said these two were hunters?”

“They are. Their dad, John, hunted with your parents.” Bobby answered. Sam and Dean glanced at each other when you didn’t say anything for a long while and the mood seemed to plummet abruptly.

“Thanks for letting me stay Bobby.” You said quietly after several minutes. Bobby nodded and grunted something gruffly as he kept his attention on the tv.

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

“So that was weird right?” Dean asked as he fidgeted on the air mattress Bobby had put out for him. Normally he and Sam would have gotten to take turns in the spare bedroom that had started becoming infected with more and more books over the years. The room was yours now which meant the five games of rock paper scissors before driving down was a waste of time.

“I guess. I asked Bobby and he said that (Y/N)’s parents were killed on a hunt two years ago. He promised to look after (Y/N) they’ve been getting more and more careless apparently Rufus happened to find their car totalled and a werewolf nearly got them. (Y/N) was lucky Rufus had even picked up the case. That was the last straw for Bobby.” Sam said as he rolled over on the sofa. He was regretting calling dibs on the sofa now, seeing as he couldn’t get comfortable.

“Well that sucks. Hunting alone is pretty hard. I guess it’s good that Bobby’s looking out for them.” Dean said as he finally found a comfortable spot.

“Yeah, I guess it is. Bobby said we could stay until the next case or when we feel like we need to get going, apparently a bunch of demon activity has kicked up all over.” Sam said through a yawn as he turned on his side. He could just make out Dean in the dark, who must have fallen asleep, sprawled on his stomach.

The smell of fresh coffee woke Dean hours later. It was pretty light outside so he must have slept in. He could hear Sam and Bobby talking and laughing in the kitchen. “Morning.” He grumbled as he shuffled into the room. He took a seat next to you. After a quick glance he realised you were barely awake, curled up on one of the wooden dining chairs with your chin propped on your knee as you lazily shoved food into your mouth.

“I think I found a case not too far away. Only thirty minutes. I might go and check it out if you boys are up for it?” Bobby offered as he set a plate in front of Dean.

“I need to get those parts into the Impala but maybe Sammy will go with you?” Dean offered as he shoved a mouthful of pancake and bacon into his mouth.

“Sam! And yes, I can go with you. But Dean really needs to sort the car. If he hears that imaginary rattling again, he’ll go crazy.” Sam teased and Dean rolled his eyes.

“It’s not imaginary Sam! I hear it when we change gears and…”

“Maybe if you didn’t drive so fast it wouldn’t squeak.” Sam said playfully as he set his dishes in the sink. “You want to tag along, (Y/N)?”

“No, I’m going to sort the stuff in my room. Bunch of guns and some books. All my stuff is still boxed up.” You said through a yawn as you handed Bobby your empty plate.

“Well hey, if you want some help with the books before we get going, I can give you a hand?” Sam offered. Dean shot him a suspicious look and Sam shrugged. 

“Sure I guess. I can’t even read some of the titles.” You answered while standing up and stretching.

“So what’s the deal with them?” Dean asked as soon as you’d left the kitchen and headed up the stairs.

“(Y/N) lost their whole family.” Bobby explained briskly.

“Yeah, Sammy said. But the attitude?” Dean asked irritably and Bobby sighed.

“(Y/N)’s parents were good hunters, found a lot of stuff that’s helped a lot of hunters. The only person that they didn’t get one with was John after they had a falling out. Didn’t like how he was raising you two so they walked away. They only died two years ago, their grandparents were hunters and they had taken (Y/N) in for a year. They’re gone too. Went to stay with an uncle and. It’s just (Y/N). It’s not like hunters set up playdates for their kids. (Y/N) just has me and Rufus now.” Bobby explained bluntly. Dean sighed and frowned.

“Nice to know you weren’t the only one trying to get me to play baseball.” Dean muttered as he downed his water and left the table to head out to the Impala.

“It’s great that you took (Y/N) in Bobby. We appreciated it, when you did it for us.” Sam said awkwardly. Bobby nodded and muttered something under his breath.

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

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Sam asked as he knocked on your door. You opened it and Sam raised his eyebrows. “Wow, the book problem had gotten worse.”

“Yeah, hasn’t it. This room used to be nearly empty when it came to books.” You answered as you let him in. He chuckled as you led him to the largest pile of books that was more a wall than a pile. “You think you could help me move these downstairs. I figured I can organise the books and learn the phones for Bobby, since he’s taking me in.”

“Yeah. I can totally help you with that!” Sam said a little too eagerly. He winced. Bobby seemed to hope that you would hit it off with him and Dean. Sam knew what you were going through and had wanted to try and help, even if it was just hanging around with you. Bobby was right, even when he was hunting with Dean, hunting could get lonely. He couldn’t imagine how it must feel to have lost so much so quickly.

“Maybe if we just start with taking all the books to the living room, we could organise them by the area that the lore comes from… maybe?” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Sam said and you smiled, nodding as the two of you started shifting books. By the time half of the books had been moved, you were opening up to Sama  little more. Swapping hunt stories seemed to be the ticket to getting you to talk. Once he’d cracked you, it didn’t stop.

“Sam you ready?” Bobby asked as you and Sam carried down another load of books. He glanced at you and you nodded.

“I’m good. Sam figured a way to categorize so I should be able to finish sorting the books in my room by myself.” You insisted and smiled at Bobby who looked a bit relieved that you’d taken to Sam.

“Dean will be here manning the phones, looks like it should be a quick hunt, a day or too.” Bobby explained and you nodded.

“You can call if you need us.” You answered cheerfully as you playfully punched Sam’s arm before turning back to the latest, muddled, pile of books.