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sunnydilaurentis

stay | found family au ⋆˚࿔

✩.* found family fics!

✩.* found family masterlist

summary: in which twenty-four hours of silence finally gives way to honesty.

notes: hi! i hope you're all well, enjoy! 💌💌

ꪆৎ

“baby.”

your face crumples.

garrett crosses the room before he can think better of it, dropping down in front of you. his hands hover near your face, the same way they had during the argument, waiting, asking.

you lean into him before he can say anything else.

garrett catches you, both arms wrapping around your body and pulling you against his chest as you break. he presses his face into your hair, “i’m here, y/n.”

you clutch the back of his hoodie. “he came here.”

“i know.”

“he knew where i lived.”

“i know.”

shadowdaddiesclub

The Rescue

Azriel x reader Hurt/comfort - Angst

masterlist serie

When you go missing behind Hybern's lines, Azriel doesn't need the word to know what you are to him. The shadowsinger goes full rage mode to bring home what belongs to him.

Azriel hadn't slept in two days.

He wouldn't have called it sleep even if he'd tried. Not with your scent going cold on a jacket he refused to let anyone move from the war table. Not with the shadows themselves seeming restless, curling and snapping at his heels like they, too, couldn't settle.

Somewhere behind Hybern's lines, in a camp his spies had barely confirmed and couldn't yet locate, you were his one unbearable thought, over and over, a wound that wouldn't close because he didn't know how deep it went.

"You need to eat something," Cassian said, for the third time that hour, sliding a plate toward him that Azriel didn't look at.

"I need a location."

"We're getting one," Rhys said, calm in the way that meant he was working very hard to sound calm. "Az. Look at me."

Azriel didn't. He couldn't. If he looked up he thought something in him might come apart in front of both of them, and he didn't have that to give right now, not when every piece of him needed to stay sharp enough to be useful.

"You're no use to her half-mad," Rhys said, quieter now. "You know that better than anyone. Going in blind gets people killed. Gets her killed."

"Don't you think I know that." Azriel's hands curled into fists on the table, knuckles white. "You think I don't feel every second she's out there? It's not just worry, Rhys, it's wrong, something in me is wrong, like a piece of me is missing and I can't—"

He cut himself off, jaw clenched, but it was too late. Rhys and Cassian exchanged a look over his bowed head, quick and wordless, the kind neither of them would have bothered hiding a year ago.

Neither of them said anything else about it. The silence stretched a beat too long, taut with everything unsaid, until Azriel couldn't stand to sit inside it any longer.

"Then find her!" The words tore out of him, sharp enough that Cassian actually flinched, his fist coming down on the table hard enough to crack the wood beneath it. For a moment fury was the only thing holding him upright, black and consuming, aimed at everything and nothing, at Hybern, at the map, at his own uselessness standing here instead of out there.

Then it broke, just as fast as it had risen, and what was left underneath was worse. "I can't. I can't sit here and do nothing while she—" His voice cracked clean through, low and raw, nothing like him at all, and he didn't finish it. He didn't have to. No one in that room could remember Azriel unraveling out loud about anything, and yet here he was, hands braced on the splintered table, shaking too hard to hide it, saying more with his silence than he ever had with his voice.

Cassian's hand landed on his shoulder, heavy and steadying, and said nothing more. There was nothing left to say.

Azriel didn't answer that. Couldn't. He'd never said the word out loud, not once, not even alone in the dark where no one could hear him say it, and it was clawing its way up his throat now regardless of whether he wanted it to.

He barely registered the next hour. Fragments only: Mor's voice near the door, the map dissolving into hurried coordinates, his own shadows dragging themselves back to him at last, reeking of stone and rust and the copper tang of your blood. They whispered a place to him, finally, a name scratched into the corner of Hybern's territory, and it was enough. It had to be enough.

Rhys caught his arm before he could vanish into the dark, and for once there was nothing calm left in his face at all.

"Bring her home, Az." Rhys said it quiet and fierce, every year of their friendship packed into three words.

Azriel didn't answer. He didn't need to. He was already gone.

The camp reeked of tallow smoke and wet stone, Hybern's banners hanging limp somewhere above the earthworks. Azriel came down out of the dark like something the night itself had been dreading, and for one suspended second he simply stood in the doorway of the holding tent and looked at you, and something in his chest didn't break so much as stop.

You were slumped against a post, wrists bound above your head, one eye swollen shut, your shirt torn and dark with more blood than a person should lose and still be breathing. Your skin had gone pale under the bruising, lips cracked, head hanging like it cost too much to hold up.

But your chest still rose. Still fell. He fixed on that, on the rise and fall of it, because it was the only thing keeping him upright himself.

He hadn't even crossed the threshold when he heard boots approaching from the path behind him, unhurried, almost bored. A soldier shouldered past him into the tent without so much as a glance, chain looped over one fist, already reaching for something laid out on the table, a blade, a brand, it didn't matter what. He was already reaching for the next thing he meant to do to you.

Something in Azriel simply gave way.

He didn't remember crossing the tent. He remembered the man's skull under his bare hands, one on either side, and the sheer animal need to make it stop, make it end, wringing every ounce of restraint he'd ever built right out of him.

Shadow poured off him faster and darker than he had ever let it move, lashing around the soldier's throat and wrists and ankles, dragging him down and pinning him there. Then it was just his hands. No blade. No weapon. Nothing between him and the reason you were bleeding but his own strength and his own fury.

It was over in seconds. It felt like it took an hour and no time at all. When he came back to himself the man was dead on the ground, skull broken beneath his palms, blood slicking his fingers and dripping steady onto the dirt, and his hands were shaking again, for an entirely different reason.

You hadn't made a sound the whole time. Not one.

He was in front of you before his pulse had slowed at all, and everything about him changed the instant he reached for you, the same hands that had just broken bone going impossibly gentle, like you were something that might come apart if he moved too fast.

Blood still clung to his knuckles, drying tacky between his fingers, and some distant part of him hated that it was the last thing to touch you before he could get you clean. He cut the bindings with Truth-Teller, angling the blade away from your skin with a precision that had nothing to do with skill and everything to do with fear of hurting you further.

When the ropes fell away he didn't pull you to him. He gathered you instead, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other sliding beneath your knees. He lifted you like you weighed nothing at all. Like you were the most fragile thing he'd ever held in his long, long life.

"I've got you," he murmured, easing you against his chest by degrees, watching your face the entire time for any flinch, any wince, adjusting his hold instantly at the smallest change in your breathing. He smoothed the hair back from your bruised temple with two fingers, barely a touch, reverent in a way no one alive had ever witnessed from him, not Rhys, not Cassian, not even Mor in four centuries of friendship. "Slowly. I'm going slowly. I won't hurt you, I promise, I've got you."

The male who moved through the world like a blade himself was holding you like porcelain, like something sacred, every motion measured down to the smallest fraction he could manage.

The second he had you settled fully against him, safe, held — you broke.

Not loudly. You didn't have the strength left for loud. Just silent tears, spilling fast and endless down a face too bruised to show much else, your whole body shaking with the effort of holding them in even now, even safe, like some part of you still didn't believe it was allowed to stop being strong.

"I'm here," he said, voice wrecked, pressing his mouth to your hair, to your temple, anywhere he could reach that wasn't hurt. "I'm here. I got you. I'm not letting go."

You turned your face into his throat instead of answering, and he felt every silent sob against his skin like a blow.

"I didn't tell them anything, Az," you finally whispered, so faint he had to lean in to catch it. Your fingers found the front of his jacket, closing around the fabric with what little strength you had left. "I didn't break."

He pulled back only far enough to look at you, at the pride flickering somehow through the wreckage of your face, like that was the one thing you needed him to know before anything else, more than the pain, more than the fear still shaking through you.

"Oh, sweetheart." The words came out rough, worn thin, entirely too soft for a male whose hands were still slick with what he'd just done. "I know. I know you didn't. You never would have."

"I wasn't scared," you breathed, though the tremor in your voice said otherwise, said everything.

"My brave girl," he murmured, voice splintering on the words, and pressed his forehead to yours, shadows curling tight and close around you both like they could shield you from the memory of the last hours if they just held on hard enough.

You just held on, fingers still fisted in his jacket, forehead still pressed to his, as he rose in one smooth motion, already scanning the tent flap, already listening for boots that weren't his.

He didn't have long, Hybern's camp would notice the silence soon enough, and he moved fast even as he held you like glass, shadows sweeping ahead of them to smother torchlight, to muffle sound, clearing a path out of the dark before either of you had to think about it.

Twice he froze mid-stride, shadows flattening against the earthworks as a patrol passed close enough to hear breathing, and both times he angled his body between you and the open air without seeming to decide to at all, like it wasn't a choice so much as instinct. By the time the wards of the camp fell away behind them and he finally broke into open sky, his heart was still hammering, though nothing in the world could have made him admit that out loud.

"I'm taking you home, love," Azriel murmured against your hair, voice rough with everything he wasn't letting himself say outright. "Wherever I am, that's where you belong now." The words came out low, unguarded, more than he meant to give away, and neither of you was steady enough yet to call him on it.

Somewhere over the tree line, your grip on his jacket went slack, and he knew, without needing to check, that you were gone under.

The townhouse door didn't open. It exploded inward, torn off one hinge as Azriel didn't so much land as crash through the threshold, wings still half-spread, shadows boiling off him in every direction and swallowing every lamp in the front hall at once. A vase shattered against the wall. Wood splintered underfoot. He was already moving, already shouting, before the door had even finished swinging on its ruined hinge behind him.

"MADJA!" His voice tore through the quiet halls, raw and cracking, nothing like the male who moved through this house on silent feet, who never raised his voice for anything. "MADJA, NOW! I need her now!"

He didn't wait for the echo to die before he was shouting again, a second time when no answer came fast enough, a third when he still didn't hear footsteps, some ragged, unraveling part of him convinced that if he stopped shouting for even a second, it would mean he'd given up.

Rhys and Cassian came down the stairs at a dead run, half-dressed, Cassian's shirt still hanging open, and neither of them slowed at the sight of Azriel with you in his arms, they just moved faster. Cassian was shouting orders before he'd even reached the bottom step, barking for hot water, for linens, for someone to send word to Madja now.

Rhys crossed the hall in three strides, gripping his shoulder hard, steadying him, though nothing about the moment felt steady at all. Mor was already gone, winnowed out to fetch the healer herself.

The rest of the house erupted right behind them. A door slammed open somewhere above, more feet pounding down the stairs two and three at a time. Nuala came flying out of the kitchen with a lit candle still in hand, wax spattering the floor behind her. Somewhere a glass shattered. Someone was shouting for towels, someone else for water, voices overlapping and tripping over each other in the dark, the whole household jolted awake and moving at once.

"Someone get her, NOW," Azriel snarled, to no one, to everyone, shouldering his way into the nearest bedroom without waiting for an answer, still cradling you, limp and unmoving, your head lolling against his chest with none of the strength left to hold itself up, like you might shatter against his own urgency, the whole house in motion around him, doors banging, feet pounding, his family scrambling to keep pace with a fear that had no shape yet, only speed.

He laid you down on the bed like it cost him something, like every inch of distance between his hands and your skin was a small betrayal, and even once your head was settled against the pillows his hands wouldn't stay still, hovering over you, touching your jaw, your throat, your wrist, as if he couldn't decide which part of you needed him most and so tried to hold all of it at once.

"Stay with me," he said, low, urgent, voice fraying at the edges. "Stay with me, sweetheart, come on, look at me, come on—"

You didn't answer. You hadn't answered in longer than he wanted to think about, your face slack and pale against the pillow, your breathing shallow but steady, at least, steady enough that he clung to that single fact like a lifeline, repeating it to himself under his breath, steady, she's steady, she's still breathing, like it might stop being true the moment he stopped saying it.

Madja swept in with Mor close behind her, already rolling her sleeves, already assessing the damage with the practiced eye of someone who'd seen far worse than this and survived worse still. "Azriel. I need room to work."

He didn't move.

"Azriel." Sharper now. "I can't help her with you hovering over every inch of her like a wall."

"I'm not in your way."

"You are exactly in my way." Madja's eyes flicked, not unkindly, to where his hand was still fused to your jaw. "Let me see her ribs. Let me see what they did to her wrists. I promise you, I am not going to hurt her worse than she already is."

His jaw worked. For a moment it looked like he might actually argue with a healer three centuries his senior, might plant himself at your side like a second spine and refuse to be moved by anything short of a direct order.

That order came in the form of two sets of hands.

"Az." Cassian's voice, low, careful, right before he and Rhys took an arm each and hauled him bodily back from the bed. Azriel fought it, snarling, shadows lashing out toward both of them before some last shred of reason clamped down and stopped him from actually hurting either of his brothers.

"Let her work. Let her work, you're going to break her ribs worse holding on like that."

"Get off me," he snarled, teeth bared, shadows spiking off him in every direction, nothing left in his voice but raw animal warning.

"Listen to me." Rhys's grip didn't loosen, arm locked hard across Azriel's chest, voice low and even despite the effort it clearly cost him to hold on. "I know you're not thinking straight right now. I know. But you have to let Madja touch her, Az. You have to let her work. You can hate us for it after."

Azriel strained against them for one more heartbeat, every muscle in him screaming to get back to your side, and then, all at once, the fight went out of him. He sagged between his brothers like something had been cut, chest heaving, eyes never once leaving your face even from three feet away.

When he finally spoke his voice had gone somewhere Rhys and Cassian had never heard it go before, cracked open, stripped of every wall he'd ever built, nothing left to hide behind. "I can't lose her. I didn't have time with her." It came out small, almost childlike, nothing like a warrior who'd just crushed a man's skull with his own hands. "Not enough time. I needed more time."

Something wet caught in his throat, and he pressed the heel of his hand hard against his eyes, furious with himself for it, unable to stop it either.

Rhys and Cassian exchanged a look over his bowed head and eased their grip, though neither of them stepped far.

Madja, wisely, didn't waste the opening. She worked fast, probing your ribs with careful hands, checking your pulse, lifting one eyelid and then the other with a frown that deepened by the second, while Azriel stood frozen between his brothers, hands opening and closing at his sides, aching to be back at your side and not trusting himself yet to go there gently.

"Two ribs broken, maybe a third," Madja murmured, moving to your wrists next, tsking softly at the raw, rope-burned skin beneath the deeper marks scored into it. "That, I can fix. That, time and salve will handle." She straightened, wiping her hands on her apron, her expression giving nothing away yet. "Let her rest. Sleep is the best thing for her right now."

"Why isn't she waking up?"

"She's been through a great deal, Azriel. Give it time." Madja glanced past him to where Rhys, Cassian, and Mor still hovered in the doorway, none of them having moved an inch since they'd first crowded in behind him. "The rest of you, out. She needs quiet." Her eyes flicked to Azriel, still hovering close, and something in her expression softened, understanding written into it in a way she didn't bother explaining to the others. "He stays."

Rhys didn't argue. He gripped Azriel's shoulder once, wordless, and steered Cassian out ahead of him before he could protest. Mor lingered a moment longer in the doorway, something soft and worried in her face, before she too slipped out and pulled the door most of the way shut behind her, leaving it cracked just enough that none of them would be far.

Then it was just the two of you.

Azriel didn't move from that spot at your bedside, not once, not even as the hours bled past and your breathing stayed shallow and even and your eyes stayed closed. He just sat there in the low lamplight, watching you breathe, memorizing the rhythm of it like he was terrified it might stop the second he looked away.

"I'm here, love," he said quietly, to a room that couldn't hear him. "I'm staying. Just, please, come back."

The hours passed like that, in silence, in lamplight, in the small, endless proof of your breathing. Somewhere past midnight Nuala came and went with fresh bandages and a look she didn't voice. Somewhere after that the candle guttered low, and Azriel didn't move to relight it, content to sit in the dark with your hand in his.

Sleep never came for him. He didn't want it to.

Azriel simply watched the night bleed slowly toward morning, waiting for a sign that didn't come.

---

MAIN TAGLIST : @sjejejjej @theyouthfullmoon @maplesdapperthoughts @jaziona92 @lilah-asteria @chillinini @spookypersondinosaur @sunmoonsweets @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @narcissanarcissa

idkyetxoxo

Invisible | Azriel | Series Masterlist

Pairing - Azriel x reader

Summary - Feyre was a High Lady. Nesta was a Valkyrie. Elain was a Seer.

And she was the sister the Cauldron ruined and forgot.

Invisible in a family of legends, haunted by nightmares no one noticed, she learned to stay quiet... to expect nothing.

Except Azriel noticed. The Shadowsinger who never spoke too much saw everything—her pain, her loneliness... and the bond between them she didn't even know existed.

When the world decides she is the easiest one to break—Azriel will make them suffer for it.

Tags - slow burn, mating bond, emotional hurt/comfort, healing, angst

erin-bo-berin

Like pleaseeee 😫😫😫

I’m happy my suffering made you laugh, I do however need the absolute freakiest fics you’ve ever written or read. Everything is welcome.

-poet

Well since you said bats, here’s some Az I’ve written that’s filthy:

Silk, Shadows & Submission

Shadowsinger’s Mercy

One that’s reader taking a spin on all three bats & Eris:

Three Illyrians & A Princeling

One Rhys x reader x Eris threesome:

One High Lord Too Many

One Azriel x reader x Eris threesome:

Flame, Shadow & Spice

Happy reading, poet! 🤭

halsteadslefttoe

Stalker

Description: Y/n has a stalker and no one knows until it might be too late.

Jay and Y/n are in an established relationship but it's secret.

deanstead

Halstead!Sister Masterlist

it will get better

Shots

can you come and get me?

Imagine proud brothers at her graduation

I need you to run

Is that blood?

Do you feel nothing?

Migraine

That’s What We’re Here For (Part 1 || Part 2) - Y/N is hiding the fact that she’s having a tough time, until her brothers think it’s time for an intervention

Toxic - Despite her brothers’ concerns, Y/N is in the middle of a toxic relationship but she has to realise it for herself

Not A Child Anymore - Jay finds Y/N in the last place he thought he would

Treat Her Right - Y/N’s brothers don’t know she’s dating Kelly Severide until an accident turns everything upside down

Help Us Help You - Y/N’s brothers find out what she’s been keeping from them (tw: selfharm)

Drugged - Jay gets a call from Y/N when she gets drugged at a frat party.

Have Your Back - Both Jay and WIll are worried when Y/N takes a bad fall while on a call.

Cat’s Out Of The Bag - Jay and Will find out about Y/N’s condition after she gets jumped on a call. (tw: cancer)

Stressed - Y/N has an anxiety attack while she’s deep in preparation for Med School so Jay takes her to Will to get checked out.

Busted - Y/N’s secret relationship gets revealed and Jay can hardly believe what he’s seeing (Mouse x Reader)

Sister’s Keeper - Jay blows his top after finding out who his sister is seeing. Will seeing them together help to change his mind? (Adam Ruzek x Reader)

Wrong place, Wrong time - While making a short stop at a bodega, Will and Y/N find themselves stuck in the middle of a robbery in progress. Meanwhile, Jay has to find a way to get both his siblings out to safety.

Fitting In - When things go too far at a sorority pledging, Y/N is rushed to the hospital.

Family - Struggling her whole life trying to get her father’s approval, Y/N meets another roadblock when she finds out her boyfriend’s secret.

Approved - Y/N finds herself stuck with her brother’s new girlfriend but ends up bonding with her.

Asthma - Y/N ends up having an asthma attack while out for lunch with Jay.

in over your head - When Y/N doesn’t show up at home, Jay knows something is wrong and heads out to look for her.

could have been avoided - When Y/N clashes with the acting squad lieutenant who’s covering Kelly, things get just a little out of hand.

you win, happy? - Y/N deals with the consequences of not listening to her brothers.

where is she? - When Y/N disappears in the middle of a case Intelligence is pursuing, Jay has to find the perp before his sister gets hurt.

Reinforcements - Y/N gets jumped on the way to meet her brothers. After her brothers arrive to help and take her home, she shuts them out and Jay has to call in reinforcements.

all in a day - Y/N’s brothers find out by chance who she’s dating. Later that day, an incident with a patient sends all three of them rushing to check on her.

Coming Home - Y/N returns to Chicago to surprise her brothers but she’s not telling them everything. Meanwhile, a series of mysterious calls and texts seem to hint at something else brewing in the background.

Honorary Halstead - Y/N finds herself caught in an iffy situation and all her brothers come rallying

midnight-dreamerness

Two Pink Lines

mood board <3

summary: After a one-night stand turns into an unexpected pregnancy, you must navigate fear, uncertainty, and growing connection with a man you barely know.

pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

warning: Curse Words?? Maybe some smutt.

~~~

Chapter One - Two Pink Lines

Chapter Two - We'll Figure It Out

Chapter Three - The Space Between Heartbeats

Chapter Four - Fragile

Chapter Five - Heartbeat

Chapter Six - Something Growing

Chapter Seven - When Everything Changed

Chapter Eight - You Felt It Too

Chapter Nine - Coming soon

Chapter Ten - Coming soon

hc-geralt-23

The Physics of Breaking

Description: The lines between being partners and being in love are notoriously lethal in the Intelligence Unit. After a grueling undercover operation blurs the boundaries beyond repair, an after-hours confrontation in the empty 21st District bullpen forces a reckoning. When self-preservation demands a lie, looking Jay Halstead in the eye might just be the one thing that makes it impossible to tell.

ilovedeanwithapassion

Texts with bf!Dean Di Laurentis Pt 2!

warnings: mentions of sex

Dean masterlist

pt 1

these take so long you guys have no idea

lvstqrs

stay - dean di laurentis

pairing ! dean di laurentis x golden!reader

summary ! dean stays over for the first time.

warnings ! fluff. mild talk of insecurities. dean is downbad and so is golden.

wc ! 1k

author's note ! it's here!! part three!! i love them so bad.

to be added to my taglist.

part one. part two.

spngifsets

p1stach-io

the three of us: two

summary: after a chaotic first birthday party for your son, you and dean see how far you’ve come. (3.6k)

pairing: dean di laurentis x reader.

content warnings: smut 18+ (MDNI), angst, minor miscommunication (they communicate like adults i promise), domestic fluff, established relationship, brief mention of vasectomy, soft dad dean, not proofread.

authors note: as usual this doesn’t really follow the correct timelines or anything so just bear with me lol (you can very much tell i haven’t read the books lmfao, i just skimmed through what i needed to write this lol).

part one.

the quiet after a one-year-old's birthday party was a specific, heavy kind of silence.

it was the sound of a storm that had finally passed, leaving a trail of blue confetti, crushed paper cups, crumpled wrapping paper, and half-eaten cupcakes in its wake.

in the middle of the living room floor, piper, your six-month-old golden retriever pup, was completely out cold near the base of the sofa.

a blue satin ribbon was still draped loosely across her back from when the kids had tied it on her earlier, and her paws twitched faintly in the middle of a deep nap.

over in his wooden high chair, rowan was fast asleep too.

his head was lolled to the side against the padded seat, bright blue buttercream frosting smudged across his chubby cheeks and nose.

his tiny denim overalls, a miniature version of the dark denim ones dean wore on weekends, was dusted in vanilla cake crumbs and sticky fingerprints.

you leaned down, your yellow dress sweeping slightly above your knees as you reached out, wiping a streak of icing off his soft cheek with the corner of a damp cloth napkin.

"come on, sweet boy," you cooed softly, your voice dropping into that quiet, velvety warmth you reserved entirely for him.

heartsandheadcanons

Third Time’s The Charm

25.) Regular at a coffee shop

synopsis ☘︎ where dean tries his best to flirt with you, but you just can’t seem to take a hint

warnings/tags ☘︎ dean di laurentis x oblivious!reader, reader does not read signs well, let me know if I missed any!

word count ☘︎ 797

notes ☘︎ the reader is just like me, I will not get that somebody’s flirting unless you say it to my face 😭

masterlist . taglist . prompt list

The first time Dean Di Laurentis walked into your life it was a pretty mundane day like all the others.

You were working your shift at the coffee shop on campus, making coffee and taking orders, smiling at customers and biting back remarks when they were having an attitude, the usual for your day. What was unusual was the golden boy of Briar U stepping into the coffee shop. He didn’t normally come here for all the time you’ve been working here, so you wondered what brought him in today.

“Hey! What can I get for you today?” You asked, using the same cheery tone you’d been putting on all day.

“I actually was hoping you might help me out on that. I’ve never really been a coffee drinker before, but I want to test the waters. Could you recommend anything to me?” He replied, looking up at the menu and back down at you.

“Oh, well I typically drink iced lattes or a cold brew with vanilla. If you're not a huge sugar fiend like I am, then you probably won’t like that all too much. If that’s the case, I would recommend the cold brew, but without vanilla.” You smiled, pushing a lock of hair out of your face, a nervous habit you’ve always had. You didn’t know why on earth you were nervous right now.

“Well then I will take a cold brew with vanilla, please.” He gave you a soft smile.

“Alright. What’s the name for the order?” You asked him, even though you already knew the answer.

“Dean.” He said, looking intently into your eyes.

“Okay Dean, your coffee will be done in a few minutes. I’ll call your name once it’s ready.” You said, writing his name down on a cup.

Once you gave him his coffee he winked at you “Thanks so much. Have a nice day.”

You were oblivious to the fact that Dean had been giving you bedroom eyes the entire time he was ordering, but it was no matter to Dean. He’d just have to take it up a notch.

—

The second time Dean walked into the coffee shop, you were stressed.

Midterms had taken a lot out of you and you were hanging on by a thread. Work wasn’t helping with the stress either, you were feeling heavier and heavier as the day went on.

You were busying yourself by cleaning the counter before you heard somebody clear their throat.

“Oh I’m so sorry! I didn’t—oh. It’s you again.” You said, quickly realizing it was Dean.

“It is.” He smiled at you.

That was so stupid of you to say. You had regulars all the time, there was no need to note on that. You sighed self pityingly and said “I take it that the cold brew was good since you’re back for more?”

“You could put it that way.” He smirked.

“Would you like another one?” You asked, not really knowing what he meant by that comment, but choosing to ignore it.

“I would love another one.” He answered.

“Okay you know the drill, your coffee will be done in just a sec.” You smiled at him.

When he went to pick his coffee up he stopped you before you left and said “By the way, you’re gorgeous.”

“Oh! Uh, thanks!” You said awkwardly, not knowing how to take his compliment.

“No need to thank me for telling the truth.” He grinned at you before walking out, and leaving you there stunned.

While you worked the rest of your shift, you realized you felt lighter after the encounter you had with Dean.

—

The third and final time Dean stepped into the shop, you were thinking about him actually. You’d been thinking about the last two times he was in here and what it all meant. His words you’re gorgeous floated around in your head, making you feel butterflies in your stomach. You brushed it off, it was just him being friendly that was all.

As if he was summoned from your thoughts, he came walking through the door with his trademark smile on his face.

“Hey! Cold brew?” You grinned up at him.

“Yes ma’am.” He was still giving you that intense gaze, but you just chalked it up to him giving you sincere eye contact.

“I gotcha. Could I get you anything else?” You asked, grabbing a cup.

“A date would be nice.” He replied.

“Excuse me?” You asked, not believing what you just thought you heard.

“Would you wanna go get coffee sometime? Just without you working, obviously.” He asked, smiling at you.

“Come back to me after I make your coffee and I’ll let you know.” You said, needing a second to breathe.

“Okay.” He tilted his head and sat down at a table.

When he came to grab his coffee he saw your number written on the side of his coffee cup and a heart at the end.

sunnydilaurentis

✮`,— just a secret au | fics

below is a list of fics for the 'just a secret' au series! ੈ✩‧₊˚

✩.* 'just a secret'} dean di laurentis x maxwell!femreader in which dean can handle the secrecy. watching other guys hit on you, however, is an entirely different story.

✩.* if only they knew} dean di laurentis x maxwell!femreader in which one rooftop party, one car ride, and one too many mentions of another guy forces dean to confront just how tired he is of pretending you're not his.

✩.*leave him behind} dean di laurentis x maxwell!femreader in which a late-night argument with your boyfriend follows you home, beau finally voices what everyone has been thinking, and dean watches you break apart while realising just how unhappy you've become.

✩.* a love letter to new york} dean di laurentis x maxwell!femreader in which a scheduling mix-up leaves you and dean sharing a weekend in new york together, blurring the line between friendship and something far more dangerous.

sunnydilaurentis

✮`,— just a secret au | fics

below is a list of fics for the 'just a secret' au series! ੈ✩‧₊˚

✩.* 'just a secret'} dean di laurentis x maxwell!femreader in which dean can handle the secrecy. watching other guys hit on you, however, is an entirely different story.

sunnydilaurentis

a love letter to new york | just a secret au

⋆˙⟡ just a secret au masterlist!

⋆˙⟡ just a secret au fics

summary: in which a scheduling mix-up leaves you and dean sharing a weekend in new york together, blurring the line between friendship and something far more dangerous.

pairing: dean di laurentis x maxwell!femreader

note: hi! i hope you're all well! 🤍 i've had this sitting in my drafts for a little while now, so i thought it was the perfect time to share it while i finish writing the next found family part! for the purposes of this story, dean's family don't own an apartment in new york. i hope you enjoy! 💌💌

*note: this takes place prior to dean and y/n's secret relationship

ꪆৎ

new york is supposed to be freeing, after all, that’s the entire reason you came for the weekend.

after months of emotional exhaustion from your last relationship, from trying to make yourself smaller, easier, and less 'difficult' for someone who never seemed fully happy with you anyway, you'd finally reached a point where you couldn't bear being around people anymore.

not even those you loved.

summer checked on you every five minutes, her worry impossible to hide. beau hovered whenever you seemed too quiet, while your friends tried so hard to make you laugh that sometimes it only made you feel guiltier for still feeling sad beneath it all.

so when your parents mentioned their manhattan apartment would be empty for the weekend, you took the train almost immediately.

two days.

two days of silence, space and a version of yourself untouched by everybody else’s expectations.

by the time the city begins to glow outside the apartment windows, you've showered, changed into a pair of soft white satin pyjamas, poured yourself a glass of wine, and curled up on the enormous cream couch with sex and the city playing quietly in the background.

for the first time in weeks, your chest finally feels light.

it doesn't last long.

at exactly nine-thirty, the sound of the front door lock rattling echoes throughout the apartment. your entire body stiffens, no one else was supposed to be here this weekend.

you pause the tv slowly, wine glass still halfway to your mouth while your brain cycles rapidly through possibilities.

your parents?

summer surprising you?

an actual murderer?

the lock clicks open before you can fully panic, the apartment door swinging inward. dean walks in carrying a duffel bag over one shoulder, freezing immediately the second he sees you on the couch.

you stare at each other in identical confusion.

“oh shit” dean says instantly.

you blink. “dean?”

“sorry-”

he lets out a startled laugh, already backing slightly towards the door again. “i didn’t think anyone would be here. beau said i could crash here for the weekend while i’m in the city.”

your eyebrows pull together immediately, “beau told you to stay here?”

“yeah.” dean still looks deeply confused. "i'm seeing a friend. beau heard, said i should just stay here since the apartment was empty.”

you drop your head back dramatically against the couch cushions, “i’m actually going to kill him.”

dean lets out a quiet laugh in response.

annoyingly, the sound eases something tight in your chest.

dean has always felt safe, especially after malone's. especially after the night he walked in looking genuinely panicked about you, staying beside you until nearly four in the morning, piecing you back together while you cried over your ex.

things have felt different between you ever since.

not uncomfortable, just closer, like the walls that had always existed between your friendship quietly came down that night, leaving the two of you navigating a version of each other you'd never really known before.

“i can leave” dean offers quickly, already reaching for his phone in his pocket.

“seriously, i’ll just find a hotel.”

“dean” you sigh, sitting up properly. “there are two spare bedrooms here."

he hesitates, sending you a look. “you sure?”

you glance around the apartment before looking back at him, smiling softly, “you're here now, you may as well stay.”

his lips curve into a grin, “roommates” he says.

amusement glints in his eyes.

“dangerous.”

you narrow your eyes in warning, yet a small smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. “don’t start.”

dean raises both hands in surrender, laughing. “i haven’t even done anything.”

you shake your head, mumbling quietly under your breath, “not yet.”

dean disappears down the hallway, putting his bag away in the guest room while you attempt to refocus on the show.

it proves impossible.

your brain is suddenly far too aware of the fact that dean is somewhere in the apartment.

a few minutes later, he wanders back out.

grey sweats cling to his legs, a black t-shirt sits comfortably across his shoulders, his hair slightly messy, clearly from running a hand through it.

god.

you hate how attractive he looks doing absolutely nothing.

“what're we watching?” he asks, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“sex and the city.”

dean blinks once, then, completely straight-faced says, “that feels educational.”

you snort into your glass of wine, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. “for who?”

“me.”

“that’s concerning.”

“probably.”

you expect him to head off to the guest room after that. despite everything that had shifted between you lately, he was still your brother's best friend before he was yours.

instead, he wanders into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out another bottle of wine, holding it up wordlessly.

your eyes narrow. “are you trying to get me drunk, di laurentis?”

dean simply nods towards your empty wine glass resting on the table in front of you. “i think, technically, you started this.”

ten minutes later he's sitting on the opposite end of the couch, one arm stretched lazily along the back cushions while carrie bradshaw narrates relationship disasters into the apartment air.

somehow it feels easy, dangerously easy.

conversation flows naturally between episodes, drifting from hockey to beau, then somehow to terrible relationships, before dean launches into an impassioned argument that carrie is “objectively the problem most of the time.”

“you cannot say that!” you gasp dramatically.

“she cheated on aidan.”

“okay...that's fair.”

dean looks unbearably smug about winning the argument, taking another sip of wine. the sight itself has your cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson red.

eventually another episode starts. much to your dismay, a sex scene appears onscreen, changing the atmosphere of the living room.

you feel it immediately, dean does too.

suddenly, the apartment feels warmer, despite the cool air drifting softly through the vents. dean's sitting close enough now that you can smell his cologne, faint beneath the wine.

you shift slightly against the couch.

bad idea.

dean glances over without thinking, his eyes lingering for the smallest fraction of a second.

your satin pyjama top had shifted when you moved, the thin white silk doing little to hide the fact that the apartment's air conditioning had left your nipples visibly hard.

his jaw tightens. he tears his gaze back to the television so quickly it's almost painful to watch. you pretend not to notice, except now your entire body feels hyperaware.

the scene on the television somehow gets worse. carrie's tangled in a stranger's sheets and breathy noises echo awkwardly throughout the otherwise quiet apartment.

beside you, dean exhales slowly through his nose. “is this really what women watch to relax?”

a startled laugh escapes you, “oh my god.”

“i'm serious.”

“it's a good show!"

dean watches the screen for another few seconds before shaking his head. “every episode someone cries, cheats, or sleeps with the wrong person.”

you bite back a smile. “that's... kind of the point.”

"sounds exhausting."

you reach for your wine if only to give yourself something to do, desperate to distract yourself from the unbearable tension steadily winding tighter through the room.

it's a terrible idea.

you take the sip far too quickly, the wine goes straight down the wrong way. you cough abruptly, spluttering into your glass as you fight to recover both your breath and what little dignity you have left.

dean looks over instantly, a fond smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “you all good there?”

you glare at him through your coughing fit. “stop."

“can’t watch a sex scene, y/n?”

“i can!” you protest immediately.

dean’s eyebrows lift, amusement gracing his features. “oh yeah?”

“yes.”

you point your wine glass at him accusingly. “i love sex, sex is great!”

dean promptly chokes on his own drink, you dissolve into laughter. after a moment, he clears his throat, shooting you an unimpressed look. “that's good to know” he says slowly, his mouth twitching in amusement.

“i'm glad college boys haven’t entirely ruined the experience for you.”

heat crawls instantly into your cheeks, because now you’re suddenly very aware of the fact that you’re talking to dean about sex.

dean.

your brother's best friend.

the same dean who found you crying at malone's, stayed until you stopped shaking, and quietly tucked a blanket around you when you'd fallen asleep.

the wine has left you a little looser around the edges, a little less filtered, and before your brain can catch up with your mouth, the words are already tumbling out.

“i actually slept with someone recently.”

silence, just for a second.

dean stills beside you almost imperceptibly. the reaction is tiny, most people wouldn’t catch it, but you do.

his fingers tighten around the wine glass. his jaw flexes once, something that looks suspiciously like jealousy flickers across his features before he masks it completely.

“oh yeah?” he says carefully.

your stomach flips suddenly, because now you’re embarrassed.

why are you talking about this with him?

you stare determinedly at your wine. “yeah.”

dean’s quiet for a beat too long before asking, “how was it?”

something about the question makes you weirdly giddy and shy at the same time, like you suddenly want dean’s approval for reasons you absolutely should not.

“it was…” you hesitate slightly. “nice.”

dean’s eyes stay on you, too attentive, far too attentive. “nice?”

“he was respectful” you explain softly, fingers tracing absently around the rim of your glass.

“patient, i guess.”

dean swallows once, harder than necessary. “that’s good.”

“yeah.”

you laugh quietly then, slightly embarrassed now by how much you’re rambling. “i was honestly kind of nervous because it was the first time since my ex and i thought i’d feel weird about it but… i didn’t.”

dean's expression softens instantly, genuine relief flickering across his features before he can hide it. after everything your ex had put you through, dean had spent months quietly terrified that he'd ruined intimacy for you completely.

“he treated you okay then?” dean asks quietly.

the question lands differently than it should. not nosy, protective, careful.

you nod slowly. “really okay, actually.”

dean looks down at his wine for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “oh” he says lightly after a beat. “so i'm the issue.”

you blink, clearly confused by his words. “what?”

“you nearly died watching a fake sex scene with me five minutes ago.”

heat floods your face. “dean.”

a slow grin spreads across his face. “interesting information.”

you throw a cushion at him. he catches it easily, laughing under his breath while you bury your face briefly in your hands out of sheer embarrassment.

“i hate you.”

“no you don’t.”

and the worst part?

he was right. you most definitely did not.

the next morning feels different.

sometime between the second bottle of wine and dean laughing at you for nearly choking during a sex scene, the line between friendship and something else had quietly blurred.

now the apartment feels aware of it.

you wake slowly to sunlight spilling through the sheer curtains of your room, the city already alive somewhere far below the windows.

for a moment you lie there disoriented before remembering.

new york.

dean.

the wine.

the conversation.

your face immediately warms as you remember the absolute humiliation of blurting out details on your sex life to dean, as though he was one of your closest girl friends.

you briefly consider staying in bed forever, until the smell of coffee drifts faintly down the hallway.

dean making coffee in your parents’ apartment feels dangerously domestic in a way your brain doesn't know how to process.

sighing, you throw on one of your oversized sweaters before padding quietly down the hallway.

the kitchen is flooded with soft morning light when you walk in.

and dean-

god.

dean's standing at the counter in grey sweats and a black hoodie, one hand wrapped around a coffee mug while the other scrolls absently through his phone. his hair's still messy from sleep, a faint shadow darkening his jaw.

something about seeing him in your family's kitchen sends your brain into complete overdrive. it's such an ordinary sight, and somehow, that's exactly what makes it dangerous.

dean glances up when he hears you, immediately smiling. your stomach betrays you instantly.

“morning.”

your chest tightens embarrassingly, “morning.”

without another word he reaches for the second mug, sliding it across the counter towards you. the coffee's already made exactly how you like it, your fingers pause around the mug.

“how did you know how i take my coffee?”

dean looks confused, as though the answer is obvious. “you’ve had the same order since freshman year.”

oh.

your heart does something deeply unhelpful inside your chest at his words. you hadn't realised dean noticed things like that. you take a sip quickly to avoid looking too affected by the fact that he remembers your coffee order.

bad idea.

dean’s still watching you over the rim of his own mug and suddenly you’re reminded of last night all over again.

“you seem traumatised” dean says mildly.

you narrow your eyes immediately, before pointing at him. “you’re never allowed to bring up last night again.”

the corner of his mouth twitches. “which part?”

“dean."

“there were multiple memorable moments, y/n.”

you groan dramatically into your coffee while he laughs quietly under his breath.

suddenly, dean’s phone buzzes against the counter.

beau

did you get in okay last night or did manhattan kill you?

dean snorts softly.

you walk around the counter instinctively to read the message over his shoulder.

it's a mistake.

suddenly, you're standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

close enough to catch the faint scent of his cologne still clinging to his hoodie, close enough that when dean turns his head to look at you, you're forced to meet his eyes from only inches away.

your stomach flips again.

“should i mention you’re here?” dean asks casually.

you grin slightly into your coffee. “what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”

dean laughs, his eyes lingering on your face for half a second too long before he nods his head in agreement.

there's a brief pause.

“I have absolutely nothing on until three.”

you blink. “really?”

“mhm.” dean shrugs slightly. “you?”

“nothing.”

silence, dangerous silence.

he tilts his head slightly towards you, “wanna explore the city with me?”

your chest tightens instantly, it sounds weirdly like a date. dean seems to realise how it sounds a heartbeat later, something gentler crossing his expression before he smooths it away.

neither of you acknowledge it, instead you smile slightly. “depends.”

“on?”

“whether you’re buying me breakfast.”

dean looks deeply offended. “wow.”

“i’m a struggling student.”

“you have millionaire parents.”

“and you don't?”

dean laughs again, shaking his head in disbelief. “fine. breakfast’s on me.”

somehow, the rest of the day falls into place frighteningly naturally after that.

coffee from a tiny café tucked into a side street in soho, wandering through little bookshops and record stores while dean keeps making you laugh so hard your stomach hurts.

somehow, the whole city feels softer beside him, easier. maybe the most dangerous part is how quickly it all starts to feel normal.

dean has always known you, but now he opens doors without thinking, guides you through crowded footpaths with a hand resting lightly against your lower back, looks down at you while you talk as though there's nowhere else he'd rather be.

it's all so instinctive that it takes you far too long to realise he's doing it.

later that morning, you stop outside a tiny jewellery shop in soho. the necklace in the window catches your attention immediately. it's gold, delicate, simple, elegant in that effortless way you've always loved.

dean notices you slowing down immediately. “you like it?”

you hesitate slightly, before nodding your head. “it’s really pretty.”

dean’s already opening the door for you before you can argue.

inside, warm lighting glows softly against glass displays while quiet jazz hums somewhere overhead. you walk towards the necklace immediately, dean following a step behind, hands shoved casually into his pockets.

“you should try it on, y/n” he says.

“dean-”

“just try it on.”

the woman behind the counter smiles knowingly as she unlocks the display case. you slip the necklace on yourself at first, fumbling with the clasp until your hair catches beneath it.

“hold on” dean murmurs.

he steps behind you, your breath catches immediately. suddenly, his hands are at the back of your neck, fingertips brushing your skin as he carefully gathers your hair away from the clasp.

warm hands, gentle movements. the intimacy of the moment nearly ruins you.

the clasp clicks shut.

your eyes lift instinctively to the mirror, dean is already looking at you through it. for a heartbeat, neither of you say anything. he just holds your gaze, as though he'd forgotten what he was about to say.

then something in his expression softens.

his eyes flick briefly to the necklace resting against your skin before finding yours again. his fingers linger at the nape of your neck for half a second longer than they need to before he finally lets his hands fall away.

“looks nice on you” he says quietly. your chest tightens embarrassingly at the compliment before you glance down at the price tag.

oh god.

“absolutely not.”

dean lets out a quiet laugh. “that bad?”

“that's like, three months of groceries!” with obvious reluctance, you unclasp the necklace, handing it back to the woman behind the counter.

it leaves a tiny, unexpected ache somewhere in your chest.

dean sees the hesitation before you hand it back. he doesn't comment, simply filing it away.

you don't think much of it afterwards. not until weeks later, when dean surprises you with the exact same necklace after one of the worst exam days you've ever had.

that's when it finally hits you, he remembered. not just the necklace, the way you'd looked at it, the way you'd hesitated before giving it back, the way you'd tried to laugh off wanting something you couldn't justify buying.

suddenly, something terrifying settles over you.

he hadn't bought the necklace because it was expensive, he'd bought it because he'd seen how much you wanted it. somewhere along the way, dean had stopped looking at you just as beau's little sister.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ taglist! @maybankslover | @purplerainx1 | @spideyzzn | @lisiliely | @fromasgardandback

strawberrycigsx

the golden trio

| threesome | dean x beau x y/n

summary: being close friends with dean and beau takes a turn in your senior year at briar u now you become closer than ever.

warnings: MDNI!!, smut, pet names, threesome, oral sex (f & m receiving)

You, Dean and Beau have been best friends since 3rd grade. You met by all summering in Cape Cod and have been inseparable since. When you all found out you all got into Briar University it was a win-win. You were the golden trio since freshman year. Now as seniors, things were about to change.

Over the summer you started to hook up with Dean. Nothing serious just casual sex , you knew there was always something there. But that ‘casual sex’ carried on in the first semester.

You were surprised by the second semester that Beau hadn’t realised yet, it’s not like Dean was very secretive. He would kiss you in the same room as him and have his hand on your thigh but Beau never said anything.

Dean asked you to come over to the hockey house later. You knew why. Only a few words and you’d be on your way as quickly as you could. You were met with Logan as he answered the door.

“Hey I think Deans upstairs”

“Okay thanks Logan”

You walked upstairs pulling down your top to show more cleavage. You opened Deans door to find Beau sitting on his bed.

“Oh hey Beau, where’s Dean?”

You were shocked at the sight of him, you thought Dean asked you to come over for a hook up not a hangout with Beau.

“He’s in the bathroom, he’ll be out soon”

You stay standing smiling at Beau awkwardly, soon Dean opens the door.

“Hey gorgeous”

He stands against the door locking it behind him. Dean walks closer to you, he’s only wearing his boxers. Now towering over you, you could smell Beau behind you.

“Okay what is going on, how does Beau know?”

“You really think Beau wouldn’t be able to tell. Oh baby there has been no way we weren’t obvious”

“It’s quite obvious” Beau says pushing all of your hair to one side, it gave you a chill being touched by him.

“So what do you say to not only having me but the both of us?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me for months”

Dean lifts your chin to reach him and kisses you softly while Beau works his way to the crook in your neck and collarbone. You feel Deans hands grab your ass and Beaus grab your tits. Deans kisses were more aggressive while Beau would kiss you lightly but biting you softly.

Beau helps you take off your top then slowly unclasping your bra, while Dean takes off your jeans. He kisses your thigh while doing so. He slowly works his way up to where your panties are sat and he rolls them off you leaving you fully naked. Beau is still kissing you passionately and Dean is sucking your clit.

You let out soft moans and gasps, Deans flicking tongue sends you spirals of pleasure. Beau pauses the kisses to whisper something in your ear,

“I’ve wanted you and your pussy for months”

Dean gets up, having just edged you.

“Fuck Dean, I was about to finish”

“Not yet”

Him and Beau lead you to the bed. You sit on your knees on the edge of it. Dean is standing with his dick facing you, you lean over to start sucking it. Slow at first but by hearing Deans grunts it makes you go faster and start to take more of him. Behind you Beau grabs your ass and positions it on his dick. He toys your cunt before slamming his long hard dick in your wet pussy. You let out an instant moan pulling away from Deans cock.

“Uh Beau, fu-fuck”

Dean gently but firmly guides your head back to his gaping dick.

“That will shut her up” he says while swallowing the pleasure you give him.

The combined whimpers and groans of Beau and Dean was music to your ears. The company of both of them made you feel hotter and more turned on than ever. Hearing them enjoy the pleasure you give them makes you want more.

“Ah fuck you feel so good” it was weird hearing Beau so loud, usually he’s more quiet compared to Dean. Dean would non stop talk all the time or make jokes.

Dean finishes in your mouth only having a trail of saliva connecting you two. But Beau still carries on, enjoying your tight gummy walls around his girthy dick.

You let out loud orgasms and moans before he finishes leaving a cream pie in your stretched cunt.

Dean looks down at you cradling your face with one of his hands,

“You were so good for us girly”

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