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doctorbitchcrxft · 17 hours

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Provenance | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, j e a l o u s y

Word Count: 6703

A/N: Taglist will be closing at the start of season 2! if you aren't currently tagged, and you'd like to join, please please let me know within the next two posts!!

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You gripped your beer tightly watching Dean getting a girl’s number across the bar from you.

“(Y/N), if you hold that thing any tighter, you’re gonna break it,” Sam snorted. “What’s your deal?”

You looked back at Sam but were unable to pull your eyes from Dean and his new “friend” for longer than a few seconds. “Nothing.” You took a swig of your drink.

“Are you sure you don’t know how you feel about Dean?” the brunet taunted.

You shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

He snickered in response and returned to looking over the papers in front of him.

You waved Dean over, who held a hand up behind the woman’s back to get you to wait. You gestured again and his smile dropped. He said something to her quickly before making his way back over to you.

“I think we got something,” Sam told his brother.

Dean grinned over his shoulder. “Oh, yeah, me too. I think we need to take a little shore leave; just a little bit. What do you think, huh? I'm so in the door with this one.”

You rolled your eyes. “So, what are we today, Dean? Rock stars, army rangers?”

“Reality TV scouts,” he grinned at you, ignoring the bite in your voice. “Looking for people with special skills. I mean hey, it's not that far off right?”

“If by ‘not far off’ you mean ‘completely off the mark,’ then you’re spot on,” you deadpanned.

Dean shot you a look while he turned to his brother. “By the way, she's got a friend over there. Possibly hook you up. What do you think?”

“Dean, no thanks, I can get my own dates,” Sam responded to his question.

“Yeah, you can, but you don't.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Dean shook his head. “Nothing. What you got?”

“Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home, a few days ago. Throats were slit. There were no prints, no murder weapons, all—” He trailed off as his brother looked back at the women at the bar.

“Dean!” you snapped your fingers at him.

He turned back. “Huh, what?”

“No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and windows locked from the inside,” Sam continued.

“Could just be a garden variety murder, you know, not our department,” Dean answered.

“No. Dad says different.”

“What do you mean?” Dean’s interest was piqued at the mention of his dad.

You pointed at the map. “John noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First one here in 1912, second, right here in 1945, and the third in 1970. Same M.O. as the Telescas. Throats slit, doors locked from the inside; the whole nine. Now, so much time passed that nobody checked the pattern. Except for your dad. It’s frustrating how much better he is at this than me sometimes,” you muttered at the end of your sentence.

“Alright, I'm with ya. It's worth checking out. We can't pick this up ‘til first thing though right?” Dean asked, trying to contain his excitement.

“Yeah,” Sam answered.

“Good.” Before you could stop him, Dean was off to the two women again.

You were fuming; staring daggers at him and downing the rest of your drink.

Sam snickered at you. “Let’s get you out of here before you end up killing one of those girls.”

“Nah, I’d kill your brother. They didn’t do anything wrong,” you responded, helping Sam pick up the papers scattered about the table. “How ‘bout the Telescas’ house?” you asked.

***

You and Sam headed back to the motel you were staying in to research the history of the Telescas’ home. You sprawled out across Dean’s bed with your laptop, and Sam sat on his bed with his laptop.

“Finding anything?” you asked him.

“Nope. You?”

You shook your head. “Nada.”

He shut his laptop. “So? You wanna talk about it?”

You shut yours, too. “About what?”

“Dean?”

“Oh, hell no,” you snorted.

“You two are made for each other,” he deadpanned at your boxed-up emotions.

“Fuck off, Sam,” you retorted. “What about you? Still not ready to jump back into the dating pool?” You snuggled into the blankets on Dean’s bed, reveling in his scent emanating off them.

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What was she like?” you asked after a moment.

“Who?”

“Jessica. You never told me much about her.”

He sighed. “She was just… the best, man. You two would’ve gotten along great, honestly. She was—” he grinned sadly at the thought of her, “—so smart. So beautiful. Quick, witty, and…” he shook his head. “I was looking for wedding rings. Few weeks before she...”

You smiled sadly at him. “She sounds amazing.”

“She was,” he responded. A quiet settled over the room.

“Don’t you think she would’ve wanted you to be… I don’t know, happy? Do you think she’d want you to move on? It’s been almost a year,” you said. “Jesus, I’ve known you guys for almost a year now," you realized.

He chuckled before going quiet again momentarily. “I think she would. But Jess… I don’t know if I’ll ever be fully over her. She was my best friend, y’know?”

You nodded. “I get it. I’m glad you had that with her, though. Sounds like you really loved each other.”

“We did.”

You and Sam went silent once more, and you succumbed to the tiredness of your limbs and mind. You were so comforted by the scent of worn leather, Dean’s cologne, and whiskey, that you slept better than you had in years.

***

When you woke up the next morning, Sam was standing over you, shaking you gently. You popped up and grabbed his wrist, twisting it and putting a hand to his throat. “Hey, hey,” he tried to calm you down, “Dean’s back.”

You released him immediately. “Sorry, dude. Uh… reflexes,” you laughed awkwardly.

“It’s okay. Dean does that, too.”

The man in question stumbled into the room tiredly. “Move your asses. Let’s go.”

***

You and Sam had just swept the Telescas’ house for EMF while Dean slept in the car trying to get over his hangover. When you returned to the car, you beeped the horn. Dean shot up a foot in the air and groaned.

“Man, that is so not cool.” He adjusted his sunglasses and leaned back against the car door. You and Sam climbed into your seats and began to explain what you had been up to.

“We just swept the Telescas with EMF. It's clean. And last night, while you were, well, out—” Sam trailed off.

Dean’s smirk made your stomach drop. “Good times.”

“—we checked the history of the house.”

“Nothing strange about the Telescas, either,” you said, swallowing your feelings.

“Alright,” Dean’s gravelly voice came, “so if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents. Cursed object or something.”

“The house is clean,” you said.

“Yeah I know, you said that.”

“No, no, it’s empty. No furniture, nothing,” you explained.

Dean turned back to you. “Where's all their stuff?”

***

You felt so out of place in the swanky auction house the Telescas’ belongings had been brought to. Even the Impala looked like an outcast in the parking lot full of McLarens and Corvettes.

You and the brothers wandered around the auction house, and you wrapped your jacket tightly around yourself.

“Consignment auctions, estate sales. Looks like a garage sale for Wasps if you ask me,” Dean commented. He took some food from a tray table as a man came up behind you.

“Can I help you?” the man questioned.

You wheeled around to face him.

“I'd like some champagne please,” Dean said in a mock posh voice.

You could’ve killed him. “He’s not a waiter.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow at you, and you held out your hand to the man. “I’m (Y/N) Dewitt. This is Sam and Dean Connors. We’re with Connors Limited. We’re art dealers.”

The man didn’t give you the courtesy of a handshake. You fought the urge to make an inappropriate comment.

“You. Are… art dealers,” the man said, clearly having difficulty grasping that concept. “I'm Daniel Blake, this is my auction house. Now, this is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list.”

“We're there, Chuckles, you just need to take another look.” Dean, of course, talked through a mouth full of food.

You shot a sharp look at Dean as he took a glass of champagne off the tray. He turned and walked off, and you followed him.

“Can you chill out?” you asked him.

“What?” he asked through a mouthful of champagne.

You rolled your eyes. “You know what I’m talking about. I don’t like this crowd either, but relax.” You noticed a painting just beyond where you and Dean were talking. It was of a family in an American Gothic style; presumably from the early 1900s. The family contained three young girls in frilly dresses, a man with a gaunt and creepy face, and a woman you assumed was the mother seated in a chair.

“A fine example of American Primitive wouldn't you say?” a woman’s voice called from behind you.

You turned to the place the voice came from to find an extremely good looking woman in a sleek black dress with glossed lips descending the staircase. You noticed Dean beginning to ogle her as Sam answered her. “Well, I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses. But you knew that, you just wanted to see if I did.”

The woman smiled as she approached you. “Guilty. And clumsy. I apologize. I'm Sarah Blake.”

“I’m Sam,” he said. “This is my… brother, Dean.” Dean was still stuffing his face with food from passing trays. “And our friend, (Y/N).”

“Dean. Can we get you some more mini-quiche?” Sarah questioned.

You snorted. You liked her.

“I'm good, thanks,” he smiled through a full mouth.

“So, can I help you with something?” she asked Sam. You knew she liked him; she was giving him the same look you often gave Dean.

“Yeah, actually. What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?” Sam asked her.

She grimaced. “The whole thing's pretty grisly if you ask me, selling your things this soon. But Dad's right about one thing, sensationalism brings out the crowds. Even the rich ones.”

“Is it possible to see the provenances?” Sam asked.

The man from earlier came up behind you. “I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that.”

“Why not?” you asked.

“You're not on the guest list. And I think it's time to leave.”

You rolled your eyes, dropping your polite disposition. “Don’t have to tell us twice.”

“Apparently, I do,” he said.

“C’mon, Dean,” you said, dragging his arm out.

***

You and the brothers found a decently priced motel and approached the rooms you had been assigned.

“Grant Wood, Grandma Moses?” Dean scoffed at his brother.

“Art history course. It's good for meeting girls,” Sam replied simply.

Dean unlocked the door to his room and chuckled. “It's like I don't even know you.”

You walked a little further down to the room next to theirs and unlocked it only to find a gaudily outfitted room full of obnoxious disco decor. The "do not disturb" hanger was even of John Travolta’s silhouette from Saturday Night Fever.

“Huh.” You dropped your bag off and headed back to the boys’ room.

“What was… providence?” Dean was asking as you entered the room.

“Provenance,” you corrected. “It’s like a biography for a painting. You use ‘em to check the history of the pieces; in this case, to see if they have a freaky past.”

“Alright, professor,” Dean taunted you. “Well, we're not getting anything out of Chuckles, but Sarah…” he smirked at his brother.

“Yeah, maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin,” Sam smirked back.

“Not me,” Dean laughed.

You shot a look at Sam, too.

He seemed only mildly horrified. “No, no, no, pickups are your thing, Dean.”

“It wasn't my butt she was checking out,” Dean snorted.

You giggled despite yourself.

“In other words, you want me to use her to get information,” Sam deadpanned.

“Sometimes you gotta take one for the team. Call her,” Dean instructed his brother.

Sam rolled his eyes, but took out his phone. You weren’t sure when he had gotten her number, but he left about an hour later to take her out to dinner.

You and Dean sat in awkward silence for a bit.

“So…”

You went silent again.

“What’s goin’ on with us, (Y/N)? You’ve barely spoken a word to me this whole trip.”

You huffed. “Nothing.”

“Obviously, it’s not nothing.” Dean held your challenging stare.

“Seriously, drop it, please,” you said.

“Fine. You wanna go get some food?”

You smiled despite yourself. “You know I do.”

You and Dean found a crappy diner with deliciously greasy burgers to stuff your faces with.

“So, how ‘bout you, sweetheart? Why don’t you ever go out?” Dean asked.

“On dates, you mean?”

He nodded.

You nibbled on a fry. “I’m just not one for hookups. I can’t take ‘em,” you admitted. “You, though, are king of the unattached drifters.”

He chuckled. “What’s wrong with hookups?

“I get too attached, which kind of defeats the whole purpose,” you replied. “The idea of being intimate with somebody I don’t even know makes me want to throw up.”

“Why? You’re gorgeous. Anybody would kill to get with you," he said casually.

You ignored the way your heart swelled in your chest. “It’s not that, it’s just…” you sighed. “I’m, like, allergic to vulnerability.”

“I get it,” Dean chuckled. “You know by now I’m not exactly the best with it, either.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re worse than me,” you quipped. “You look like you’re gonna throw up any time you have to tell me you’re sorry or something like that.”

“Maybe it’s just your face,” he retorted.

“Hey!” you giggled. “You can’t call me gorgeous one minute then tell me looking at me makes you sick the next.”

He chuckled. “I just did, so…”

“Whatever, Winchester. What is it about hookups you enjoy so much, anyway?”

He shrugged and took a bite of his burger. “Sex is just fun, I guess. Always helps me blow off steam.”

You scoffed. “I’m sure it does.”

“I’m serious! Helps me take a break from… all this.” He gestured around him.

“That’s why you have hobbies, Dean. Sex is not a hobby.”

“It can be! You draw, Sam reads, I fuck."

“Well, get a better one,” you scoffed.

“What would you suggest I do? Knitting?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, just… something a little more wholesome, maybe. You said it yourself, it doesn’t always make you feel great.”

“Never should’ve told you that,” he responded.

“Well, ya did, so.”

He snorted at you. “It’s frustrating how well you know me sometimes.”

“Oh, look at that, another crumb of vulnerability from Mr. Closed Book.”

“That’s the best diss you could come up with?”

“Hey, it’s not easy being effortlessly funny all the time,” you retorted. “It’s a lot of pressure.”

***

When you and Dean returned to the motel room, you pulled out your whetstone to sharpen your knives.

“Who you plannin’ on carvin’ up, sweetheart?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” you answered.

“Remind me not to piss you off,” he remarked.

“You do literally all the time,” you quipped. “You’re lucky you’re still in one piece. If you give me yours, I’ll sharpen ‘em, too.”

“Thanks,” he said. He handed his knives over to you.

Sam burst through the door at that moment holding a stack of papers. “Got ‘em.”

“So she just handed the providences over to you?” Dean questioned.

“Provenances,” you corrected.

“We went back to her place, I got a copy of the papers—”

Dean raised his eyebrows expectantly. “And?”

“And nothing. That's it. I left.”

“You didn't have to con her or do any… special favors or anything like that?” Dean questioned.

“Dean, would you get your mind out of the gutter, please?” the younger brother scoffed.

“You know when this whole thing's done, we could stick around for a little bit,” he suggested.

“Why?”

“So you could take her out again. It's obvious you're into her, even I could see that.”

Sam ignored his brother. “Hey, I think I've got something here.”

You headed over to Sam’s seated position at the desk and looked over his shoulder at the papers. “ ‘Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family, painted 1910’,” you read off.

“Now, compare the names of the owners with my dad's journal,” Sam said.

Dean pulled it out. “First purchased in 1912, Peter Simms. Peter Simms murdered 1912. Same thing in 1945. Oh, same thing in 1970.”

“Then stored, until it was donated to a charity auction last month. Where the Telescas bought it,” Sam continued.

“So what do you think? It's haunted? Or cursed?” you asked.

“Either way, it's toast,” said Dean, getting up from his bed.

***

Under the cover of night, you and the brothers broke into the auction house. You were consistently impressed with and sexually frustrated by how easy scaling tall fences and gates were for Dean.

“Come on!” Dean urged you.

You disarmed the security alarm, wearing gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints. “Go ahead,” you whispered.

Dean picked the lock at your cue. You shone your flashlight ahead of you searching for the painting. When you found it, you and the boys were in and out within minutes. You and the boys had clearly been breaking and entering for years. You found it comical almost how good you were. You brought the painting out to a field behind the arthouse and set it alight.

Dean dusted off his hands. “Ugly ass thing. If you ask me, we're doing the art world a favor.”

***

Dean banged on your door the next morning. “We got a problem. I can't find my wallet.”

You opened it. “How the hell do you lose your wallet?”

“I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night.”

“Fuck, dude, that’s bad.” You started pulling on your boots as he paced around the room.

“Yeah, I know. It's got my prints, my ID— well, my fake ID anyway. We gotta get it before someone else finds it. Come on.”

You and the brothers hurried around the auction house searching for the wallet. Sam was clearly frustrated with his brother until he caught sight of Sarah.

“Hey guys!” she smiled.

You wheeled around at the sound of her voice and attempted to act cool.

“Sarah! Hey,” Sam breathed.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Ahh, we.... we are leaving town and, you know, we came to say goodbye,” Sam responded.

“What are you talking about Sam, we're sticking around for at least another day or two,” Dean grinned as he strolled up to the two. He took his wallet out of his pocket and shot a look at Sam. “By the way, I'm gonna go ahead and give you that $20 I owe you.” He turned to Sarah. “I always forget, you know.” Dean chuckled and you grinned as he held out the cash to his brother. Sam took it and glared at him. “Well, we’ll leave you two crazy kids alone, I gotta go do something… somewhere.”

“Smooth, Dean,” you told him as you walked away from Sarah and Sam. The two of you headed back out to the Impala and sat in it waiting for Sam. When he returned, he was frantically saying the painting was back in the auction house.

“I don't understand. We burned the damn thing,” Sam rushed out.

“Yeah, thank you, Captain Obvious,” Dean remarked.

“Alright, we just need to figure out another way to get rid of it. Any ideas?” you chimed in.

“Well, um, in almost all the lore about haunted paintings it's always the painting's subject that haunts 'em,” Sam began.

“Yeah. So we just need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family and that creepy-ass painting. What were their names again?”

“Merchant,” you answered. “I say we find us a bookstore.”

***

And so, that was where you headed. You found a proprietor whose personality was interesting, to say the least. You found his quirk had a bit of charm to it.

“You said the Isaiah Merchant family right?” he asked you.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Sam said.

You and Dean were flicking through a book with pictures of guns in it. The proprietor laid a book of newspaper clippings on the table in front of you. “I dug up every scrap of local history I could find. So, are you folks crime buffs?”

“Kinda. Yeah. Why do you ask?” you responded.

He held up the newspaper article before him. It talked about the sinking of the Titanic, and just next to it, read “Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself.”

“Yes. Yeah, that sounds about right,” Dean replied.

“The whole family was killed?” You tilted your head.

“It seems this Isaiah, he slits his kids' throats, then his wife, then himself. Now, he was a barber by trade. Used a straight razor,” the proprietor explained.

“Why'd he do it?” Sam questioned.

“Let's look. Ahh... ‘People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament. Controlled his family with an iron fist. Wife, uh, two sons, adopted daughter…’ “ he skimmed on. “Yeah, yeah, yeah… ‘There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave.’ Which of course you know in that day and age, um, so instead, old man Isaiah, well, he gave them all a shave.” He drew his hand across his throat and made a noise to go along with it. You and Dean joined in laughing with the proprietor.

“Does it say what happened to the bodies?” asked Dean.

The proprietor shook his head. “Just that they were all cremated.”

“Anything else?” you asked.

“Yeah. Actually, I found a picture of the family. It's right here. Somewhere. Right— here it is.”

It was a picture of the painting, but something seemed off to you.

“Hey, could we get a copy of this please?” Sam asked the man.

He nodded, and returned a few minutes later with it.

***

You and the boys sat at a table in the motel room and looked over the copy of the picture.

“I’m telling you,” you started, “The picture at the auction house, Dad’s looking down. Here, dad’s looking out. The painting changed.”

“Alright, so you think that Daddy dearest is trapped in the painting and is handing out Columbian neckties like he did with his family?” Dean questioned.

“Well, yeah, it seems like it. But if his bones are already dusted, then how are we gonna stop him?” Sam asked.

“Maybe other things changed in the painting, too. Maybe it could give us some clues,” you answered.

“What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?” Sam asked.

“Maybe,” you shrugged.

Dean looked down at you, confused. “I’m lost. Still waiting for the movie on that one. Anyway, we gotta get back in and see that painting.” He walked over to his bed and laid back, crossing his arms. “Which is a good thing ‘cause you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend.”

Sam huffed. “Dude, enough already.”

“What?” he responded.

“What? Ever since we got here, you been trying to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, all right?” he said defensively.

“Sam, relax,” you told him.

“Well, you like her don't you?” Dean pushed.

Sam threw his arms up and looked to the ceiling.

“Alright, you like her, she likes you, you’re both consenting adults…” Dean trailed off with a smile.

“What's the point, Dean? We'll just leave. We always leave,” came Sam’s frustrated response.

“Well, I'm not talking about marriage, Sam.”

Sam snarled angrily. “You know, I don't get it. What do you care if I hook up?”

“ ‘Cause then maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the time,” Dean answered calmly.

Sam stared at him and huffed before looking away.

“Look, I’m not crazy about hookups either, but maybe it would be helpful,” you suggested.

“And this isn't about just hooking up, okay?” Dean continued. “I mean, I think that this Sarah girl could be good for you. And... I don't mean any disrespect, but I'm sure this is about Jessica, right? Now I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that, but... I would think that she would want you to be happy.” Sam’s eyes welled with tears as his brother continued to talk. “God forbid, have fun once in a while. Wouldn't she?”

“Yeah, I know she would,” Sam responded softly. “Yeah, you're right. Part of this is about Jessica. But not the main part.”

“What’s it about?” you asked.

He wouldn’t answer you.

“Well, we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so…” Dean trailed off.

Sam picked up his phone and cleared his throat. Dean shook his head and closed his eyes, settling back on his bed.

“Sarah, hey, it's Sam… Hey, hi… Good. Good, yeah. Umm. What about you?... Yeah good, good, really good.”

Dean opened one eye and looked at his brother. “Smooth.”

You suppressed a laugh.

“So, ah, so listen,” Sam continued. “Me and my brother were, uh, thinking that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again. I- I think maybe we are interested in buying it… What?!”

At Sam’s tone, you and Dean snapped to attention.

“Who'd you sell it to?” Sam stood up.

Dean rose and came to stand next to you.

“Sarah, I need an address right now,” Sam urged her.

Once she’d given it to you, you and the boys sped away in the Impala to an upscale neighborhood. You and the boys were surprised to see another car parked right outside the building: Sarah’s.

“Sam, what's happening?” she asked as you and the boys ran up the front steps of the house.

“I told you, you shouldn't have come,” he responded.

“Hello, anyone home?” Dean banged on the heavy front door.

“You said Evelyn might be in danger; what sort of danger?” Sarah asked Sam frantically.

“I can't knock this sucker down. I gotta pick it.” Dean crouched down in front of you and you moved over to the windows, banging on them with all your might.

“What are you guys, burglars?” Sarah yelped.

“I wish it was that simple. Look, you really should wait in the car. It's for your own good,” Sam told her.

Dean got the door open and you followed him inside quickly.

“The hell I will. Evelyn's a friend,” she said, trailing behind you and the boys. “Evelyn?” She moved over to the elderly woman sitting half-turned away from you. Something was wrong and you knew it; the woman’s gaze seemed completely empty. “Evelyn? It's Sarah Blake. Are you alright?” She touched her shoulder gently.

“Sarah, don't. Sarah!” Sam told her.

Evelyn’s head tipped back, exposing her slashed throat.

Sarah jumped back in horror and screamed. Sam put his arm around her and led her out of the room. You and Dean stared up at the painting before following the younger brother out of the house.

***

Back in the motel room, you and Dean clacked away at the keys on your laptops while Sam paced in front of you. A knock on the door stirred all of you from your thoughts. Sarah stormed into the room and brushed past Sam.

“Hey. You alright?” he asked her.

“No, actually, I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's— alone— and found her like that,” she answered, wheeling around.

“Thank you,” Sam nodded.

“Don't thank me. I'm about to call them right back if you don't tell me what the hell's going on. Who's killing these people?”

Sam looked back at you and Dean, and you shrugged.

“What,” he told her.

“What?”

“It's not 'who'. It's 'what' is killing those people,” he explained.

Sarah was still looking at Sam like he was insane.

“Sarah, you saw that painting move,” he sighed.

The woman began to pace. “No, no. I was— I was seeing things. It's impossible.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to our world,” Dean grinned.

“Sarah, I know this sounds crazy, but we think that that painting is haunted.”

Sarah laughed humorlessly but had tears in her eyes. “You’re joking.” She looked between you and the Winchesters. “You're not joking. God, the guys I go out with.”

“Sarah, think about it. Evelyn, the Telescas, they both had the painting. And there have been others before that. Wherever this thing goes, people die. And we're just trying to stop it. And that's the truth,” the brunet told her.

“Then I guess you'd better show me. I'm coming with you,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What? No. Sarah no, you should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous and… and I don't want you to get hurt,” he admitted.

“Look, you guys are probably crazy, but if you're right about this? Well, me and my Dad sold that painting that might have gotten these people killed. Look, I'm not saying I'm not scared, because I am scared as hell, but I'm not going to run and hide either.” Sarah strutted over to the door. “So are we going or what?” She walked out.

“Sam?” Dean said. “Marry that girl.”

***

You and the boys returned to Evelyn’s house to scope out the crime scene a little further. Sam picked the lock to let you, his brother, and Sarah inside.

“Uh, isn’t this a crime scene?” Sarah protested.

Dean smirked. “You've already lied to the cops. What's another infraction?”

Once inside, you and Sam got the painting down from off the wall to examine it.

“Aren't you worried that it's gonna kill us?” Sarah asked.

“Nah, it seems to do its thing at night. I think we're alright in the daylight.”

You took the copy of the painting out of your pocket. “Sam, check it out. The razor: it's closed in this one, but it's open in that one.”

“What are you guys looking for?” she asked.

“Well, if the spirit's changing aspects of the painting, then it's doing so for a reason,” Dean explained.

“And look, the painting in the painting,” you pointed out. “Looks like a crypt, or a mausoleum or something.”

Dean grabbed a thick glass ashtray and used it as a magnifying glass. You ignored how your body came alight as he wound his arm around you to reach the painting. “Merchant,” he read out.

***

Your next stop was a graveyard. Several, in fact. You stepped over gravestones carefully to avoid disrespecting the dead even further.

“What, are you superstitious?” Dean asked.

“A little, actually. I think I’m in such deep shit with the spirits already; I don’t wanna make it worse,” you laughed.

“You are somethin’ else, woman,” he smirked. “This is the third boneyard we've checked,” Dean addressed your group. “I think this ghost is jerking us around.”

Sam and Sarah talked amongst themselves behind you and you and Dean walked a bit ahead.

“Over there,” you said, pointing to a mausoleum. The group followed you into the mausoleum where you found four urns in front of little glass-fronted boxes on one wall. On the opposite, there were five brass nameplates.

Sarah looked at one of the boxes containing a little porcelain doll with brown hair. “Okay, that right there is the creepiest thing I've ever seen.”

“It was a sort of tradition at the time,” Sam told her. “Whenever a child died, sometimes they'd preserve the kid's favorite toy in a glass case; put it next to the headstone or crypt.”

Wind blew in the mausoleum, sending a chill down your spine.

“Notice anything strange here?” Dean asked.

“Ah, where do I start?” remarked Sarah.

Sam snickered.

“No, that's not what I mean. Look at the urns,” said Dean.

“Yeah. There’s only four. Where’s the dad?” you questioned.

***

You and Dean discovered that Isaiah’s body had been buried in that same cemetery away from the rest of his family. You returned there that night with Sarah in tow.

You stood watch with Sarah while the boys dug the hole down to Isaiah’s corpse.

“You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this,” she said.

Sam climbed out of the hole laboriously. “Well, ah, this isn't exactly the first grave we've dug. Still think I'm a catch?”

You giggled when Dean’s shovel tapped something hard. “Think I've got something.” He cracked the coffin open to reveal Isaiah’s rotten bones. You helped him out of the ground and began pouring salt and kerosene over the body.

“You've been a real pain in the ass, Isaiah. Good riddance.” Dean tossed the match he’d struck down on top of the body.

“God, I will never get used to that smell,” you commented.

“What? Burning flesh?” the older Winchester turned his head to you.

You made a face and scrunched up your nose to which Dean just smirked at you and chuckled.

***

You returned to Evelyn’s house soon after to make sure the job was complete and bury the painting. You and Dean remained outside and told Sam to go in with Sarah. You and Dean smiled at each other before turning the radio up. A love ballad played loudly through the speakers, and Sam turned to the two of you. You both snickered at the “what the fuck” gesture he was giving you. Sam motioned for the two of you to cut the music. You sighed and turned it off.

Before you and Dean could say a word to each other, the door slammed shut behind Sam and Sarah. You and Dean jumped out of the car and ran across the lawn, trying your best to unlock it.

“Guys! Hey! Is that you?” Sam called from inside.

“Sammy, you alright?” the older brother asked. Moments later, you got a call from Sam.

“Tell me you slammed the front door,” you said after you answered.

“Nope, it wasn't me. I think it was the little girl,” he told you.

“The little girl? What girl?”

“What’s he saying?” Dean interjected, leaning close to your ear and the phone.

“Yeah, she's out of the painting. I think it might've been her all along,” Sam said.

You snorted humorlessly. “The dad was trying to warn us all along. He was looking down at her the whole time.”

“Hey, hey, hey, let's recap later all right? Just get us out of here," the younger brother rushed out.

“Well, Dean’s trying to pick the lock, but the door won’t budge.”

“Well, knock it down!”

“Okay, smartass, just let me get my battering ram,” you remarked.

“(Y/N), the damn thing is coming!”

“I know, I know, just hold it off til we figure something out. Get some salt or iron or something,” you responded. “Stay on the phone with me!”

Moments later, you heard Sam say to himself, “What kind of house doesn't have salt? Low-sodium freaks.” Another minute or so went by before he spoke back into the phone. “Uh, (Y/N), give me a sec, don't go anywhere.”

You and Dean began to walk around the outside looking for an alternative entrance. A bit of yelling and crashing was heard on the other end of the phone. “You okay, dude?”

“Yeah, for now,” he responded.

“How’re we gonna waste her?” you asked.

“I don't know, she was already cremated. There's nothing left to burn.”

Dean got close to the phone again.

“Then how's she still around?” you challenged.

“There must be something else!” Sam went silent on the other end, but you could faintly hear Sarah’s voice.

“(Y/N), Sarah said the doll might have the kid's real hair. Human remains; same as bones.”

“The mausoleum,” you and Dean said in unison.

“Hang tight, Sam,” you said, snapping your phone shut. You and Dean sprinted back to the car, and Dean drove as fast and as wildly as he possibly could.

“One of these days, your driving’s gonna fucking kill us all,” you said, gripping the leather of the seat next to you and the door.

“Not now, (Y/N),” he responded evenly, driving even faster. He plowed straight through the fence of the cemetery and drove right up to the mausoleum. You and Dean jumped out of the car and hurried into the building.

Dean pounded the door of the glass box containing the doll with the butt of his gun, and then went to walk out of the mausoleum. “Come on, Dean,” he grimaced. “Cover your eyes!” He told you. He shot at the box, and you shielded your face as he did so. You leapt back into action and knocked away more of the glass with your hands, cutting them as you did so. You ignored the burning in your palms and took the doll out of its case.

You held the doll’s hair over the lighter, which Dean was having trouble lighting. “Come on, come on!” he said. Thankfully, the lighter caught the hairs of the doll and sent it up in flames. You dropped it on the floor between you and Dean and watched the rest of the doll burn.

Dean pulled out his phone moments later to call his brother. “Sam, you good?” He breathed a sigh of relief and hung up the phone.

You looked down at your bloodied hands. Dean followed your gaze. “(Y/N), you maniac, what were you doin’ pawin' at that glass with your bare hands, huh?”

“It seemed like a good idea in the moment,” you mumbled.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, huh?” He guided you back to the car. He held your wrists and sat you down in the front seat of his car. He went to his trunk and returned a few moments later. He sat next to you and gingerly began wiping down your hands. You hissed and grabbed his hand at the pain. He looked back up to you and paused momentarily.

“Sorry,” you said.

“All good,” he responded and went back to work. He gently cleaned your wounds with an alcohol-soaked rag and began to wrap up your left hand. You watched as he worked, heart swelling at the kind gesture.

“Thank you,” you said.

“You’d do the same for me,” he muttered.

“I would,” you affirmed, smiling.

He picked a piece of glass out of your right hand. You hissed again.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he said. “This one’s probably gonna need stitches.” He handed you his flask. “Drink this.”

You did as told and took a sip, swallowing sharply as you felt the first prick of the needle in your palm. “I’m not trying to be a little bitch. I’m really not when it comes to pain,” you said. “I can finish stitchin’ me up on my own if you wanna get back to Sam—”

“No. Let me,” he responded authoritatively. He looked up through his eyelashes at you before returning his attention to your fingers. He ran his along yours and gingerly cleaned the cuts, giving special attention to the deeper ones before bandaging the exterior of your hands. You flexed them painfully.

“Thank you. Seriously,” you said softly.

“Any time,” he responded.

***

“This was archived in the county records. The Merchant's adopted daughter, Melanie. Know why she was up for adoption? 'Cause her real family was murdered in their beds," Dean explained to you. “Who'd suspect her? Sweet little girl. So then she kills Isaiah and his family. The old man takes the blame. His spirit's been trying to warn people ever since.”

“Huh,” you said. “Psycho bitch.”

He scoffed. “You know you’re talking about a kid, right?”

“Yeah. Psycho bitch all the same.”

You and Dean were waiting outside of the auction house for Sam to finish talking to Sarah. You and he leaned against the car, watching Sarah and Sam talking at the door. Sam turned away from her before turning back moments later. He grabbed Sarah’s waist and pulled him to her, kissing her deeply.

“That's my boy,” Dean smiled.

“Alright, perv,” you remarked. You shoved him down into the car.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @more-espresso-less-depresso-og @mysticmyth @favoritefandoms27 @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h

quite a few tags are broken; so sorry, my loves!! make sure you have my blog notifs on so you don't miss a chapter, and please let me know if ive misspelled your blog name!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #spn #supernatural #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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the-oblivious-writer · 8 hours

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Let The Light In |One-shot [1]|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader | Dewey Riley and Fem!Reader

One-shot: A Classic Whodunit

Summary: Moving to Woodsborro was certainly not your willing decision. Change has always been hard for you, so what better way to cope than to make everyone else's life almost as miserable as yours?

Warning(s): Swearing, & mentioned family issues (?)

Notes: Finally got around to re-writing this and I definitely prefer this version. There's more Tara x Reader stuff and a little more details regarding R's past. Still based off this scene from Gilmore Girls and takes place when R just moved to town. This'll still be the last thing I'm able to post for one my stories for a bit, but I'm glad it's still something

Masterlist

The fall breeze hits you as you walk out of the school building. You continued reading from your book as you walked with your head hung low paying no mind to your surroundings, too engrossed with the words you read. That was until you caught a glimpse of a familiar figure in the corner of your eye, your brief suspicions immediately being confirmed when the person spoke.

Dewey—who was previously leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed—began to follow you, uncrossing his arms. “Hey,” he nodded at you and you didn’t reciprocate, only turning your head to look at him briefly before turning your attention ahead of you while putting your book in your back pocket. “How was school?” Dewey immediately followed with.

“Great,” you couldn’t help the blatant disinterest in your tone.

“Learn anything good?” You could already tell he was amping up to something. There was a certain eagerness in his voice. An eagerness to segway into what he truly wanted to talk about.

“Oh yeah, tons of things. I got gold stars plastered all of my forehead,” you remarked with as much sarcasm you could muster at the moment.

“I got an interesting call today. Wanna know who it was from?” He asked and you couldn’t care less.

“Not really,” you answered honestly, your tone still showing anything but amusement.

“So Mr. Collier—you know he owns the local market?”

“If you say so.”

“Said you came in today.”

“He did?” You rhetorically asked; you looked both ways before you and Dewey now walked alongside a road.

“And he said you took some money out of a little donation cup to help repair the roads. I told him he was crazy, you wouldn’t do that, you weren’t a thief, that he was just trying to start trouble and then I hung up on him.” Most of what Dewey was saying was going in one ear and out the other. You’ve grown good at tuning people out, intentional or not. Still Dewey continued. “Now don’t get me wrong, I enjoy hanging up on Mr. Collier. The guy’s nothing but a jerk—and he is crazy. But I was just wondering, if maybe, any of the other things were true.”

“What do you think?” You questioned with annoyance at the edge of your voice. You were starting to grow more and more impatient as he continued to yammer on.

“I think if you tell me that what he’s saying is not true then I’m going to believe it’s not true,” he elaborated.

“Okay. It’s not true.”

“That doesn’t sound very convincing—”

The two of you were now on a dirt path as you stopped in your tracks and finally turned to face Dewey. While one hand moved as you spoke, the other one was clenched into a fist to your side. “—Look, what exactly do you want from me? First I get forced to move here, now I’m stuck with you most of the time. I’m put in this place—now in a school that has us doing the pledge of allegiance in six-different-languages! I’m supposed to be this happy-go-lucky person after being taken away from my home, my friends—and now you want what from me?!”

You didn’t need this. You were fine living in a crappy apartment. You were fine knowing the city you lived in like the back of your hand. You were fine having your best friend within walking distance.

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. Your father had no right to ship you off just because he couldn’t take his precious image being ruined. He was on the verge of sending you to military school before your mom stepped in. Their marriage had been falling apart for some time but this was definitely the nail in the coffin.

“I’m just trying to help you,” Dewey sighed as his own patience was beginning to grow thin. Dewey knew about your complicated relationship with your father. He knew what led to you ending up in Woodsborro. He knew things about you before you even knew them. He just wanted to protect you, shield you from harm. Even if he knows where that has gotten him in the past.

“Well stop trying. Stop talking to me, stop following me, and stop asking me questions! Just stop!” You waved your hands in aggravation as you spoke, your temper and annoyance taking over you with each second. You were pissed and upset with every aspect of your life. Unfortunately, Dewey found himself being on the receiving end of your frustration.

“That’s what you want?”

“Yes!”

“That’s what you really want?” He wasn’t yelling but his voice grew louder with his second question to match your own tone.

“Yes,” you spoke with more conviction.

“Fine. You got it, kid!” Dewey said as he threw his hands up.

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome!”

You both continued walking, both of you walking tensely as you stepped onto the bridge that went over the lake that was not far from where you two were previously standing. You each refused to look at the other as you walked along the bridge. When you were halfway on the bridge, you suddenly felt yourself being shoved. In a blink of an eye, you go from standing on the bridge to standing in the lake soaking wet. You pushed your hair back to look at Dewey who was still walking with his back facing you. He didn’t pay the person he just shoved into a lake any mind.

Great.

By the time you successfully lifted yourself up and got back on to the bridge, Dewey was gone. Nobody liked soggy socks but maybe you deserved it. Maybe. Even if you were far too stubborn to admit it.

—

The next day people were crowded around Mr. Collier’s store. He was ranting about something with his hands going up and down as he spoke angrily. When Tara walked closer she finally saw what all the ruckus was about.

Apparently someone had drawn the outline of a body right outside of his store and put up caution tape. It was obviously just a prank. If there was actually a murder, the police wouldn’t let it hit daylight. Let alone bring attention to it by drawing an outline of the body with white chalk. They weren’t living in the interwar period. But Mr. Collier refused to see this as he argued with Sheriff Hicks, eyes flickering back and forth from the sheriff and the outline as he yelled.

“What am I supposed to do?! I have a dead body right in front of my store!”

“No. You have a chalk outline of a dead body in front of your store,” she said as a matter of fact. “One of my guys is doing a headcount to see if anyone is missing. Until then just sit tight? This is probably just some prank done by one of the highschoolers.” She sighed before walking away from the dramatic man.

Tara couldn’t help but laugh as she looked over at the outline again. Nothing good ever happened in Woodsborro. Other than the fact that a few murders from the 90’s are practically a part of their school curricula, it was a boring ass town. So one should never take entertainment like this for granted.

Sheriff Hicks came back just a few minutes later and informed everyone—mainly Mr. Collier—that everyone had been accounted for and it really was just a prank.

“But it looks so real! Where’d they get the police tape?” The man was still in disbelief if his tone was anything to go by.

“Kids have their ways,” Hicks shrugged, resting a hand on her hips. She had gone through ghostface before and even her ptsd wasn't flaring up from what was in front of her. The man needed to relax.

“Who would be depraved enough to pull a stupid prank like this?!”

As if on cue, Tara’s eyes found you leaning against a light pole across the street as you wore a devilish smirk. It shifted into a small smile when you met her eyes. You looked away for a moment then back at her before you walked away.

Of course it was you. This had your name plastered all over it. You might as well have been posing at the scene of the crime. She should have known better. You have been wreaking havoc from the moment you stepped into town. Nothing good ever came from that stupid smirk she’s become all too familiar with. Everything about you annoyed her to no end. There was just something she couldn't put her finger on. It was driving her insane. You were going to drive her insane.

—

The next day, Tara returned to the market so she could fulfill her duties as the snacks retriever for tonight’s movie marathon with the others. After seeing that everything—your mess—was cleaned up and Mr. Collier was less frantic, she made her way inside the market. While inside, she bumped into Wes. They talked for a few minutes as she continued shopping. Wes was nice, but romance wise? Tara didn’t know how to feel. Wes is kind, good looking, a gentleman—what was stopping Tara from going out with him?

“I’m going to ring these up but I’ll meet you outside?” Tara said to Wes and he nodded with a smile. Tara returned it before checking out the things she bought and waited outside the store for Wes with her plastic bags full of snacks in hand. She suddenly felt a light tap on back before she turned around and saw you.

“Should you be standing around here all alone? I heard this is a pretty dangerous corner,” you teased while emphasizing the word ‘pretty’ by motioning with your hands. Tara looked at you then immediately looked away as she crossed her arms.

“I’m fine,” she said—trying in a nonchalant tone.

“Feeling succinct today?” You looked her up and down, noticing her tense demeanor.

“Pretty much.” She refused to give you anymore than that. She was not going to buckle. She was not going to fall for your witty remarks or snide comments.

“Hm,” you said while lightly nodding. “Did I do something to offend you?”

“Me? No.” Now she was finally looking at you, meeting your eyes.

“Good.”

“You might wanna ask that same question to Dewey though.”

“Meaning?” You raised your eyebrows as if you didn’t have a single clue.

From your facial expressions to your tone—how were you so unbothered? How could you be so clueless? So dense? Fuck it. Maybe she was going to buckle and fall but you were just too irritating to resist the temptation. “You’ve got this whole town coming down on him,” Tara’s voice became more defensive.

“Reeeally? How’d I do that?” You feigned a look of surprise and concern, matching your conceited tone

She was going to punch you.

“You know how you did that,” she replied because you couldn’t be that dull. You just couldn’t.

“I’m quite familiar with the bluebook laws in this town so you’re talking about a lot of things. Dropping a gum wrapper, strolling arm and arm with a member of the opposite sex on a Sunday,” you satirized with that vexing voice of yours.

Maybe you were that dull. Tara pointed down with both her arms at the chalk you both stood on. They were able to clean up the police tape no problem, but the chalk was going to take more elbow grease.

You looked to where she was pointing before saying, “Ah.” You moved your feet off of the outline before continuing, “What about it?”

“You did it,” Tara said. “Everyone knows you did it. They had a meeting about it.”

“You actually go to those bizzaro town meetings?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the thought. You shook your head, “God those things are so To Kill A Mockingbird.”

“My friend’s mom is a sheriff, so she’s the one who went. And Dewey went. When he got there everyone ganged up on him. They all want you gone,” Tara told you with no remorse.

“Wow. Bummer.”

“And he’s standing there, yelling at everyone, and defending you—now he’s a pariah for the shit you’ve caused in just a month of being here.” You looked down to the side, processing what you were just told. You wore a look Tara wasn’t able to read. “Of course you don’t care about any of this,” she rolled eyes.

“I didn’t say that,” you said.

“Go away. I don’t want to talk to you anymore,” she waved you away with her hands, shooing you, before looking away.

“Fine…” You started to walk away but Tara’s frustration got the best of her and you stopped and turned back around when you heard her speak again.

“You’re an asshole!”

“Got a second wind, huh?” You tried to hide the displeasure you suddenly felt.

“You’re making his life hard. And for what? For your own amusement? You’re sadistic.” You could tell she had been holding that in. You also wouldn’t comment on how you found the pout she was wearing a little cute. “Second wind over.”

“I didn’t realize they were coming down so hard on him…”

“Funny, I never pegged you as clueless,” Tara remarked, annoyance still evident in her voice.

“I get it…” She gave you a look. “No no no, I do, I get it,” you lightly nodded at her. Contrary to your previous tone, your voice now held interest and understanding—and so did the look you gave her. Your eyes flickered between her and the chalk outline before asking the question that’s been in the back of your mind, “Did you at least think it was funny?”

Tara tried to fight the smile on her face as she rolled her eyes, but this time rolling them in a more playful manner. “That is so not the point!” She hoped you didn’t hear the laugh that threatened to come out.

“Yeah… you thought it was funny,” you said proudly.

“Shut up.” She could no longer meet your eyes, now looking back at the ground.

Before either of you could say anything else, the door to the market opened and Wes walked out with a few bags of his own. “I got the—oh hey,” Wes cut himself off to greet you.

He didn’t know you personally, just that you already had a few run-ins with his mom in just a month of being here. Did that make him weary of you? Sure. But you weren’t the first kid at his school to have run-ins with his mom. Your reasons were just more… creative.

“This is Wes,” Tara introduced the two of you. Looking between you both as you two made eye contact.

“Boyfriend?” You asked without looking away from Wes.

“No! I mean,” she cleared her throat. “No. Not boyfriend. We’re just friends.”

“Right,” was all you said as a reply while you continued to stare him down. “How you doin’?”

“Good. Yeah I’m good,” Wes responded with a tightlipped smile.

“Okay see you around,” Tara quickly cut in before this awkward interaction could go any further.

You finally turned your attention back on Tara, looking at her. “Seems to turn out that way. Doesn’t it?” Your tone was underlined with something Tara couldn’t place. Before she could respond, you turned around and walked away to who knows where.

You were truly something.

—

You let Tara’s words sink in as you made a detour to Dewey’s trailer. Deep down you knew Dewey didn’t deserve the way you were coming down on him. Especially when you could probably say he’s done more shit for you than your father has.

Moving to Woodsborro was definitely not at all ideal. You hated change and everything that came with it. All it did was bring more anxiety into your life. So when your mother informed you you would be leaving Brooklyn to move to some town in California, you didn’t handle the news well. You still weren’t handling it well. There were a few reasons as to why you moved, your father being the root of each one. But although you understood part of it, what you didn’t understand is why you had to move so far away. Maybe that’s part of why you’re so hard on Dewey. If your mom was moving and starting fresh, it makes sense she would want to start it surrounded by close friends. But did she have to pick one that lived so far away?

You didn’t know a bunch about her dynamic with Dewey other than the fact that they met in 1998 during the ghostface attacks. They eventually got close and became friends. They must have been great friends considering she made him your Godfather.

You also knew Dewey was a former Sheriff. A former Sheriff that’s aware of your trip of a track record. He always made sure to keep an eye on you and it was extremely annoying. A nunsense really. It’s like you couldn’t breathe for five seconds without him hovering over you.

Your mom was a nurse, you didn’t get to see much of her. She always took as many shifts as she could, more shifts meant more money. More money is definitely something your family could use. Since your mom was always working, you often found yourself stuck with Dewey. You quickly grew sick and tired of him. But now here you were, making your way to Dewey’s trailer as you went over everything in your head. You knew you were the asshole in all this. Dewey was just trying to help you. He didn’t need you making it harder for him than it already was.

You knew what you had to do, even if it meant forcing out the words. Apologizing was not one of your specialties. You went over the exact words you wanted to say, sighing, before knocking on the door to Dewey’s trailer.

Dewey answered the door, already knowing who it was. “Hey, kid,” he greeted just a second after he opened the door for you.

“Hey. Mind if I…?” You pointed to the inside of his trailer with raised eyebrows and he nodded before letting you inside. “So uh…” You shoved your hands in your pockets as you looked around as if you have never been in his trailer before. As if you hadn’t already spent most of your nights sleeping on the beat up mattress that was now leaned up against the wall. Dewey looked at you with his arms crossed and expression warm. You felt like he always wore a warm expression no matter what. “Hey,” you finally said once you realized you lost your train of thought.

He chuckled a bit before saying, “You already said that.”

“Right, well I wanted to…. Apologize,” you said while looking at the ground, playing with the fabric of your pockets.

“Okay. I’m listening,” Dewey replied as he took a seat on his futon.

“Oh, that was actually the apology.”

He hummed before inquiring, “For…?” You didn’t need to look at him to know he was enjoying this.

You exhale, tilting your head back as you look at the ceiling. You finally looked back at him before saying, “I’m sorry for making things harder than it needs to be.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate that,” he looked at you with a soft expression. You didn’t get a lot of those.

“No problem,” you give a brief smile before you begin to turn around. But before you’re able to leave Dewey’s trailer, you hear his voice again.

“Why don’t you stay for dinner? I know your mom’s working tonight and Stephen’s off at a friend’s house. What do you say?” His offer caught you off guard. You certainly weren’t expecting that after all that you’ve put him through. But you also didn’t feel prone to declining it like you usually would be.

“Uh, yeah. That sounds nice, actually,” there was still a bit of reluctance in your voice but it still held honesty. You were feeling something indescribable. You don't think you have ever felt it before, or maybe you just never felt it often. Dewey cared about you. He wanted to be there for you. It was a strange feeling, but not a dreadful one.

You spent the remainder of your night in Dewey’s trailer; you talked and joked with one another as you ate leftover pizza with the television playing in the background. You always ate dinner alone. No one was ever around to eat with you and it didn’t take long for you to get used to it. It was different eating dinner with Dewey. To have someone to share a meal with. It was just a matter of whether it was a good or bad difference.

Maybe for once you shouldn’t dread on your spiraling thoughts and enjoy the moment.

The next morning, you woke up to Dewey cursing at his toaster. You lazily pushed yourself up by your elbows, leaning forward and rubbing your eyes with one of your hands. “Damn toaster!” You heard Dewey curse before you heard something clattering. You pushed your blanket off of you before rolling off of the mattress and onto the floor then got up to see what was going on.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He asked once he saw you before continuing to whack his toaster.

“No. You’re good,” you yawned. “But—uh, why are you assaulting your toaster?” You looked between him and the toaster with raised eyebrows.

“I’ve had this hunk of junk for ten years and suddenly it just stops working,” he answered with a huff as he continued to hit the toaster's side.

“I don’t know if ten years is suddenly.”

He waved his hands up in the air, purposely dropping the screwdriver he had on to the counter in the process. He let out a defeated sigh as he said, “Forget it,” pushing the toaster away from him. “I have to grab a few things. Are you going to be fine here or do you want me to drop you off?”

You looked at the toaster as you thought to yourself. “I”ll be fine,” you said and he patted your shoulder as he made his way towards his keys.

“Breakfast is on the table—I shouldn’t be out long!” He called out before leaving through the trailer door. As soon as he left, you went for his tool box. You remembered seeing it the first time you came over. After grabbing the tool box, you grabbed the toaster and got to work. It actually wasn’t that bad. There was just some tightening and cleaning that had to be done. By the time you finished, you had a little over ten minutes to spare before Dewey was home. It wasn’t until later that night he noticed something was different about his toaster.

“My toaster works,” he said with shock. This toaster was complete garbage just a few hours ago. What happened? He looked over to see you with your nose in your book, not paying him any mind. Then it dawned on him and he couldn't help the smile that grazed his face as he looked at you. “Thanks, kid.”

“Didn’t do anything,” you simply replied before getting up from your mattress and grabbing your light jacket. “I’m going for a walk,” you reached for the handle before pausing. “I'll be back in a few,” you then added before leaving.

Dewey was still admiring his toaster when you returned.

-----------

A/N: tara and r are both sarcastic little shits in different fonts

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye @alexkolax@andsoigotabutterfly @ajortga @rroyale-109 @alliecavell

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x you #tara x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #scream fanfic #let the light in au

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stxrvel · 17 hours

Text

losing myself

memories of how you lost yourself trying to keep your best friend afloat. content. angst, depression and suicidal thoughts. this is post-suguru's death, except the first memory. a/n. i just can't seem to bring myself out of the angst for jjk, i apologise in advance!

Helping Satoru was a way of losing yourself. When Haibara died and Suguru abandoned them, Shoko dealt with it in her loneliness and the only thing Satoru could lean on was you. Your shoulder was his support, the only thing that kept him sane to reality as you both tried to graduate and made the decision to teach school, you for a much more selfish reason than Satoru's human reasons.

Helping Satoru cost you a lifetime of loneliness. You loved your friend and after what happened you were so desperate not to lose anyone else that you were willing to do anything, even if it meant losing everything that once made you who you were and all motivation. You thought your identity didn't compare to the pain and helplessness of not being able to do anything while everyone walked away, but your decision led to a lonelier life than you had thought.

“Hey, everything okay?” Shoko approached through the hallway, the darkness relenting once she was standing next to you. “You look pale.”

“I'm fine. Just a little tired.”

The clouds around you enveloped them on either side, a somber feeling settling in between the space Shoko kept her distance with.

“Well, we've graduated. From now on the pains can't be so great.”

“Yeah, right. We're past the worst of it, aren't we?”

“I'd like to think so.”

Her cocked smile thawed a little of the chill settling in your chest, but her eyes told you everything her lips didn't. She knew, everyone knew, that you hadn't been the same since Suguru left. Satoru was staying afloat because of his goofy personality, but trying your best to keep it that way, the sparkle in your eyes disappeared. The person who used to be told that she brought the sun in her eyes had completely clouded over. Shoko saw the storms in your eyes, the impenetrable and unceasing tempest. She couldn't cross it without dying trying.

“You can talk to me if you need to.”

That was what she said every time, even though you never took her at her word. Shoko always proved she could survive on her own, however she had done it, whatever process she had to go through, the smile she gave you in those moments at least was more genuine than yours.

Satoru was too wrapped up in his own world, his own head and his own pain to stop for a moment to notice yours, which Shoko and the others could. You never placed that guilt on Satoru's shoulders, nor did you need to, but it was something you were sadly aware of. Satoru didn't push you aside because he was selfish, it was simply his way of processing things, so internally and individually inside his head. Just as you had made it your way of processing grief to help Satoru tirelessly, to the point of almost becoming his shadow.

“I don't know what to do anymore, y/n,” Satoru cried, hands holding his head and knees against his chest.

Utahime had called out to you, barely passing you out of eagerness and blurting out a couple of words that you could deduce were about Satoru. It was painful as you knew you had to prepare in advance to see him, because it was heartbreaking to have to help him process your pain while you had to keep your own at bay.

“I'm tired of dreaming about it. I'm tired of… seeing him.”

Your hands moved over his hair, his cursed technique disappearing every time you were near. You tried to contain the trembling of his body by holding his shoulders, but having you closer only made him more vulnerable.

“Not sleeping is not the solution, Satoru.”

“That's the only way,” raising his head, his puffy blue eyes returned your gaze. At times like those, you didn't know how he hadn't noticed your sunken eyes or the black bags that even years later still wouldn't go away.

But it was about him. Satoru was in bad modd. You had to help him. You had to hold him.

“No, it's not. I'm here,” your knees touched his feet, his face contracting as a fresh tide of tears lashed his chest. Cold hands wrapped around you and your numb hands wrapped around his neck. “I know you miss him. I know you regret it.”

His sobs against your shoulder grew louder and louder, but Satoru kept his grip with hostility. He held close to you as his lifeline, the float that carried him across the ocean, shipwrecked in his own pain, lost in his own mind.

“But you know you don't have to carry that pain alone, Satoru.”

“I don't know what I did, y/n…”

“You did what you had to do.”

“No…”

“If you hadn't done it, I would have.”

His head jerked up, his blue eyes crystallizing and pain written all over his face with the trail of tears that wouldn't stop flowing.

“It wasn't anything either of us would've had to have done,” you shook your head, trying to contain the memories in the back of your head, trying to focus on pain your friend in that moment, on what really mattered. “It wasn't anything either of us had to endure.”

“But you're fine…”

You almost snorted, controlling yourself enough to let out a sigh. His naive eyes wouldn't leave yours, almost as if he was constantly wondering what you were doing to deal with all that he wasn't. As if there was something wrong that he was doing or something he wasn't doing that you were, because in his eyes, up until that moment, you were fine.

“I'm fine when you're fine.”

“I'm not fine right now.”

“I know.”

You seemed to think a glimmer of understanding crossed his eyes. You didn't know, you couldn't be sure, but his face returned to your neck and the tears stopped falling. Minutes passed in silence.

“I'm sorry,” was the last thing he said that night.

Helping Satoru was something you would never regret, even when you had lost your spark and the students loved him more than you.

“I thought you were going out tonight.”

You ran into Nanami on your way to your dorm. It was getting close to the time of the outing Satoru had proposed for that night and you knew that if you didn't go no one else would show up there. You hated to think of dashing your friend's hopes, but he had already developed enough strength to go through such a disappointment. It had been months since he had becone strong enough to deal with such situations on his own.

“I'm tired.”

“For something specific?”

It was common for your friends to dance around the elephant in the room, and sometimes you allowed yourself to think how different things would be if they had at some point been more daring with their approaches, as you were with Satoru. What would've changed, then or in the past, if Nanami or Shoko had been more insistent? Where would you be now? Where would you be later?

“Nothing specific. I'd just like to get more rest tonight,” you sent Nanami a smile, the kind you had mastered to avoid such conversations.

“Very well. You know I'm just a phone call away if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Nanami.”

Were you really that selfish? In all their remoteness, your friends were still concerned about your well-being. Had enough time passed for you to not care? If you didn't want to be unwell, why was it so hard for you to accept their help?

“You've lost weight,” Satoru was right beside you from the moment you left Yaga's office.

“The mission went well, Satoru, thank you for caring.”

You tried to dodge him to go back to your room, but of course the white-haired man wouldn't just walk away just because. Lately he was closer, more attentive, more condescending…

“Are you eating well?”

Satoru was trying hard to ignore the way his words brought back dark memories. From the moment he realized what had been happening, his mind was scheming every second of the day in trying to find a way to bring you back to your original state. He couldn't even fully concentrate on the missions, but that was no obstacle for him.

“I'm tired, Satoru. It was three days. I need to sleep.”

“I told Yaga many times to let me go with you…”

“I handled it just fine on my own, Satoru.”

“I know! I'd just like to be of some use-”

“You want to be of some use? Leave me alone.”

The bed was freezing cold as it was every night. You changed the sheets that morning and organized the entire bedroom in a strange spike of energy. You felt a little better afterwards, but not enough. It had never stopped looking and feeling so empty, no matter what you did.

Satoru called you a couple of times that night, but as usual, he'd give up after a couple of tries.

You wondered again, drowsily, what would be different if only he had insisted a little more…

#satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk angst #satoru angst #gojo angst

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s-rosie · 1 day

Text

TIG CRACK

helllooooo!!!! i hope you like these hcs and please let me know how i can improve. tysm

nash and jameson did the wap dance at his bachelor party

one time, xander put on a really dirty song on (like mad at me by sexyy red) in the car and gray almost had a stroke

the brothers, ave, libby, and max once had a nerf war that lasted for 72 hours straight (avery and jameson teamed up and won)

avery’s go-to karaoke songs are obsessed by Mariah Carrie, NO by megan trainer, etc. and jameson was like “is this targeted?” when they first did karaoke

one time max was listening to a spicy audio and it accidentally connected to the car with just her and avery and now she blackmails her with the memory

when they were younger, nash paid xander in ice cream to keep quiet about a hickey he had

libby always has to pee on road trips like im talking every 30 minutes and everyone debates on leaving her at the rest stop

ave once had a dream (if you know what i mean) about jameson before they were dating, and she couldn’t look him in the eye the next day

grayson once failed cooking so bad, he had sauce splattered on his suit and had to awkwardly walk to his room to change (while everyone made fun of him)

xander and jameson will randomly break out in song like they are in a musical or sum

libby and max watch anime together

rebecca once yelled because she was mad and everyone stopped in their tracks because she never yells

nash loves legally blond because it was alisa’s fave movie before she was a lawyer and she got him into it

grayson watches the golden girls as a guilty pleasure

nash watches soap operas and always gasps dramatically at every plot twist

thea only drinks black coffee because she thinks it makes her ✨qUiRkY✨ (she doesn’t even enjoy it)

rebecca and xander hold the world record for largest blanket fort ever built because of a sleepover they had when they were kids

max says things like “im just not like the other girls ✨💖😝🤪🤩🎀💝” ironically

jameson knows swear words in almost every language

one time, jameson started to tickle avery, so she pulled out a swich blade on him

max and avery have a system where they cover for each other no matter what, no questions asked (it saved both of their asses more times then they can count)

libby, max, and avery make up code names for everyone (code name list on next post) (jameson eventually figured out who all the code names were for and now listens to the conversations and gets all of the tea and the girls have no idea)

avery is flexible, and one time max said sum like “ave, your flexible, right” and avery eas like “yeah” and jameson started to think some not-so-g-rated-things (nash then elbowed him and told him to knock it off)

libby once messed up so bad dying her hair, a chunk of it came out

xander once made a robot spider to scare jameson (becauae i hc hes deathly afraid of spiders)

those are my hcsss! i hope upu liked them. please give me tips on how i can improve and please give me hc suggestions and recommendations so i can make more. tysmm!

#the inheritance games #the brothers hawthorne #the final gambit #the hawthorne legacy #avery grambs #averyjameson #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #libby grambs #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #maxine liu #max liu #rebecca laughlin #thea calligaris #alisa ortega

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itzynabi · 21 hours

Text

birthday boy

summary: in which nabi celebrates san’s birthday

set: early july 2024

word count: 1.9k

warnings: suggestive content [pls dont read if ure a minor or uncomfy with suggestive content🙏🏾]; mention of food; a makeout sesh and i think that’s it

an: my fave couple!! you donf even understand the joy i feel to finally be posting this yoh! feedback and reblogs are much appreciated 💐

nabi’s masterlist

Nabi pressed the doorbell, swaying on the balls of her feet as she waited for the door to open. She waved her left arm around, causing the gift bag she was holding to hit her legs. She was about to press the button again when she heard Seonghwa’s voice.

“Who’s there?” He asked through the speaker.

“It’s Nabi,” She answered, putting her face in front of the camera so he could see her. She waved a peace sign by her eye. Seonghwa soon opened the door, letting Nabi in.

“How are you? It’s been a while since I last saw you,” he said as Nabi put her gift bag on the bench in the entryway. She traded her sneakers for a pair of slippers, raising to her full height again and grabbing her bag.

“I’m good. Working hard for our comeback,” she told the older man as he led her into the apartment.

“It’s in August, right?”

Nabi nodded. “Yeah, so we’re spending almost every day practising dances.”

“And you’re also doing That’s So Evie,” he said, offering her a seat on the couch.

She chuckled, sitting down with her bag at her feet. “I’m a busy person. How are promotions going?” She asked him about his promotions for BOUNCY.

“They’re good,” Seonghwa said, also sitting down. “Obviously a bit tiring, with how intense our choreography is, but we’re all enjoying it.”

“I haven’t spoken to you since my episode with Yunho and San came out,” she noted, pouting a little bit as she thought about it.

He nodded. “That’s right. And speaking of San, I’m assuming you’re here to see him?” He pointed at the gift bag by her feet.

Nabi smiled brightly. “You’re right. It’s a happy early birthday.”

“He’s in the shower right now–” he pointed to the bathroom, where Eve could hear water running– “but you can go to his room if you want to wait for him there.”

“Okay.” She nodded, standing up. She took hold of her bag as she walked around the couch. “If you’re asleep by the time I leave, then goodnight,” she told Seonghwa as she opened the door to San’s room.

“Goodnight,” he responded, going to his room.

Nabi entered San’s room, moving to sit on the bed. She looked around the room, sighing at the decor. Opening her gift bag, she looked for a place to put the throw blanket she brought over. Since San’s room was… struggling in the colour department, Nabi had made it her mission to add some brightness to it. She decided to place the purple blanket on San’s gaming chair. She was so busy staring at her new addition to the room that she didn’t notice San entering the room.

He was shocked to see someone in her room, but upon noticing it was her — her red hair gave her away — he smiled softly. He dropped the towel that he was using to dry his hair on the floor, walking to Nabi with purpose before wrapping his arms around her.

Nabi made a squeaking noise because of how sudden and strong San’s hug was. “Hi,” she said, turning around in his arms.

“Hi,” he replied. His eyes flickered over her shoulder, seeing the blanket on his chair as she chuckled lightly. “Did you know that every time you come over, you end up leaving something behind?”

She shrugged. “I don’t think you understand just how plain your room is. There’s only so much I can do.”

“But it’s purposely monochromatic,” he sulked.

“Yeah, but, like… it’s boring,” she weakly argued, still in San’s hold. “I just added a little colour to it, that’s all.” He continued to sulk until Nabi poked his cheek. “You’re not happy to see me?”

San picked her up, spinning her around twice as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She rested her head in the junction between his neck and shoulder, feeling the dampness of his hair and smelling the freshness of his body wash.

“I’m the happiest when I get to see you,” he told her when he had put her down. “So, what are you doing here?”

“We won’t be able to spend your birthday together, so I figured we could celebrate it early.” She pulled out of his arms, walking the few steps to his bed to retrieve her bag. She plopped herself on the floor, crossing her legs and looking up at him as she waited for him to do the same. Opening the bag, she pulled out a medium sized container. “I tried to make sure the icing didn’t smudge, but I don’t know if I succeeded.” She placed the container in front of him before opening it, revealing a homemade cake.

San gasped. “Wah… This is amazing, Biyah!”

“You don’t even know what it tastes like,” she muttered, feeling her cheeks grow warm.

“Just the fact that you made this is amazing.” He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “Thank you.”

“Okay,” she said, beginning to feel awkward. She cleared her throat, looking around the room. “Okay.”

“Are you blushing?” He teased, causing her to roll her eyes.

“No, I’m not,” she groaned. “Let me put the candles.” She reached her hand in the bag, pulling out candles and a lighter. She placed the two candles in the centre of the cake, making sure the '2’ and the '4’ were facing the right way. She lit them before quickly scooching away so that she was sitting in front of her boyfriend.

As she sang for him, he stared at her with warm eyes, his face turning slightly red. When she finished, he thanked her before blowing out his candles.

“Thank you, Biyah,” he said when she had returned to his side.

“It’s no problem.” She waved him off before suddenly staring him in the eyes. “Please don’t leave this in your fridge for three months,” she pleaded her boyfriend, who laughed until he realised she was serious.

San scratched the back of his neck. “I'll do my best to make sure it's eaten by two months from now.”

Nabi continued to stare at him, deciding whether she believed him or not. “I'll tell Hongjoong oppa that this should be treated like an official schedule.”

He nodded, pursing his lips. “Should I get us plates?”

“Oh! Yes, please.”

He squeezed her hand before jumping up and leaving the room, returning quickly with two plates, two forks, and a knife. “For you,” he said as he gave her a plate and fork.

“Thank you,” she said when he cut her a slice of cake. She waited for him to cut his slice before taking a bite.

He covered his mouth with his hand as his eyes widened. “This tastes really good, Biyah!”

As they ate their cake, San told Nabi about ATEEZ’s preparations for their upcoming concerts. They were soon going to go to Taiwan for their show on the 8th, and had been practising diligently for it. He had been telling her about a joke Yeosang made during practice when Nabi’s phone vibrated.

She looked down at it and groaned, seeing her alarm going off. “I have to go now. I have dance practice,” she told him as she switched off the alarm. “I have to go now.”

“Okay.” He nodded, trying not to seem too upset. He stood up at the same time as her, threading their fingers together and pulling her closer to him, until their chests were against each other. “Thank you for surprising me.”

“No problem.” She smiled up at him. “I bought you a gift, but I’m so smart that I forgot it at the dorm. I just realised.”

San chuckled, causing Nabi to smile brighter. “That’s fine. Just seeing you was enough.” He pecked her lips quickly.

“Please remember to eat the cake,” she pleaded, her eyebrows curling up cutely.

“I’ll remember to eat the cake, I promise. I’ll even send you photo updates of everytime I eat some.”

“Okay. Now, I really have to go before I’m late,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. Nabi went on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, but he turned his head, clumsily making her kiss the corner of his mouth. She laughed at how he blushed at his failed attempt. “You failed!”

“I thought I would get the timing right,” San said, closing his eyes in embarrassment. “I’ve never gotten the timing right.”

Nabi reached her hand up, holding his face in her hand. She waited for him to open his eyes before doing anything. “I’m a very unpredictable person, as you’re aware. You’re never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever going to get the timing right.” She took a step back. And he followed, seemingly stuck in her orbit.

“Maybe I’ll get it right one day.” He shrugged, continuing to follow her until her back was against the door.

“Maybe.” Her eyes dropped to his lips before returning to his eyes, something he noticed.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, stepping closer until there was no space between them. San used his right hand to tilt her head up before slanting his lips over hers, his hand moving to cup her jaw. Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck as his tongue pressed against the seam of her lips. She let out a little noise in response. His grip on her tightened. Her hands slipped between them, gently dragging down until they rested on his chest. San pulled his lips away, instead beginning to trail them along Nabi’s jawline, her hands fisting on his shirt. He moved down her neck and—

Again & Again by 2PM started playing from Nabi’s phone, causing the couple to flinch.

“That’s probably Ari unnie calling to check if I’ve left yet,” Nabi said. Her chest was heaving as she took deep breaths to calm herself down.

“I guess that means you really have to go now,” San joked, resting his head in the crook between her neck and shoulder.

“Yeah.” She rubbed her lips together, trying to centre herself.

San stepped back and Nabi quickly gathered her things, her phone silencing. “I’ll see you… Yeah.” She nodded, giving up on trying to remember when he’d be back in Korea.

“Okay. Drive safe and have a good practice,” he said, walking her out of his room. When they reached the front door, he kissed her once, twice, thrice. “Bye, cupcake,” he murmured, opening the door for her once she had changed into her shoes once more.

“Bye, Sannie. I love you.” She blew him a kiss.

“I love you, too.”

She was about to respond when Again & Again started playing once more. “Hi, unnie,” she greeted when she answered the phone, beginning to walk away from San’s apartment door. “Unnie, I’m–I’m in the– I’m on the road. I can’t text and drive.”

“This is a phone call,” Ari pointed, voice unimpressed.

Nabi blinked her eyes, trying to come up with something to say. “I’m leaving now,” she eventually admitted, pressing the button for the elevator.

“Okay. Sorry to cut your time short.”

“No, it’s fine. At least I got to see him.” When the elevator arrived, she got on it and pressed the ground level. “Thank you for arranging my day so nicely,” she sweetly said.

“You’re welcome. You have thirty minutes.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“You too.”

The second the elevators opened, Nabi speed-walked out of the apartment building. She walked to the car like a woman on a mission — only pausing to take a picture of the moon. She put on her seatbelt and started her car, reversing out of her parking space. She looked down at her phone when it chimed, signalling a text.

sannie [23:06] thank you for coming tonight, biyah! ❤️ i’ve told the members about our mission and they all reacted enthusiastically

tagging: @seolboba // @ateezivy // @ateezjuliet // @cafemilk-tea // @smh-anon // @alixnsuperstxr // @cosmicwintr // @girlzwfun // @txt-yaomi // @novwonia [send an ask/dm to be on/off the taglist]

©️ kim nabi

#ficnetfairy #itzy 6th member #itzy sixth member #itzy oc #itzy addition #itzy added member #itzy extra member #itzy member au #itzy imagines #kpop oc #kpop addition #kpop added member #kpop extra member #kpop imagines #kpop au #nasan #minors dni

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the-laughing-lunatic · 2 days

Note

hii! hope it’s not too much trouble, but maybe reader x scout, reader x engie, and reader x sniper - (established relationships with the mercs and reader) the reader doesn’t seem to be very happy lately - something bad that happened earlier in the week must’ve reminded reader of their past. (i really like your posts btw, you’re genuinely a really good writer)

(ahhhhh thx sm! I tried to make it as vague as possible so I hope you like it. Thx for requesting! p.s. I'm workin thru the rest of rqs soon bc school is wrapping up, so rqs may be back open soon :3)

Scout, Engie, and Sniper w/ a reader who was reminded of their past (ROMANTIC)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

☆Scout☆

He feels like something’s off, but doesn’t know what

He wants to try to talk to you about it, ask if you’re alright and everything but he’s never been one for initiating that kind of emotional talk

When he finds you crying in your room though, he feels his heart break that he didn’t help you before

He scoops you up in his arms. “H- hey, doll, why’re you cryin’? Was it something I said?”

(He can’t help but still be a little insecure, you’re the first person he’s dated after all and he wants to do everything right for you)

If you don’t want to talk about it he’ll hold you and go on about how much he loves you so you don’t have to deal with silence

“You’re so perfect, doll, it kills me to see you like this, y’know, watchin’ tears roll down that pretty face of yours. Wish ya never felt the need to cry baby, I love you so goddamn much-”

Yeah he’s crying too, he can’t help it

If you do tell him he’d listen intently

He’d try to make you laugh so you’d stop crying, humor is his coping mechanism and he kinda projects it on you, sorry if that’s not your thing :/

He’ll make sure to give you plenty more affection a while after, youre getting spoiled as hell

☆Sniper☆

He’s not the best with emotions and all that jazz (he has the autism)

But when he finds you crying outside it hits him that something’s wrong

He sits next to you and places his hand on your shaking figure.

“You okay darl?”

“No.”

“Would you like a hug dear?”

“Please.”

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you tight to him, barely any space between the two of you.

He rubs circles into your back until your crying has settled down. “...you wanna talk about it now, love?”

If you don’t he’ll stay with you and idly trace shapes into your hand, letting you cry it out

If you do tell him he’ll nod empathetically “Oh, love,” he sighs, tilting your chin up to look at the night sky above you two

“Think ‘bout it this way. All those stars up there? The light we see from em’ now is from ages ago, but the actual bloody stars have completely different light. And jus’ because we can see the light, don’t actually mean that it’s here anymore. Bugger, I’m shit at metaphors. Point is, that’s in the past, an’ even though you might think ‘bout it sometimes its still in the past. And I love ya.”

☆Engineer☆

Notices something’s off immediately, he’s a smart guy after all

Once you two are alone he’ll place a hand on your shoulder and ask you “Are you alright?” in that sweet voice that just makes you burst out into tears

Pats your back and hugs you as you cry “Shh, it’s alright sugar, it’s alright. You wanna talk about it?”

If you don’t want to he’ll scoop you up in his arms (but I’m taller than- yes. He can pick you up too) and get you some warm food

“Y’know, my momma said that a good hot meal is the best after bawlin’ your eyes out. We don’t exactly got anything you’d call a meal right now, but I can fix you up some toast with cinnamon if you'd like, honeybee.”

If you do tell him he’ll reassure you that everything okay

“Honey, I know the past ain’t really ever somethin’ that leaves, but you gotta remember things are alright right now. Stuff from back then can’t getcha, sure it hurts sometimes but you gotta remember things are good right now. And I’m here for you.”

Gives you so many kisses

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 x reader #team fortress 2 x reader #scout tf2 #scout tf2 x reader #sniper tf2 #sniper tf2 x reader #engineer tf2 #engineer tf2 x reader #fanfiction #x reader

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spidermans-l-o-v-e-r · 2 days

Text

Orange Blossoms

Pairing: Buck x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Notes: It's 5/12/24 at 12:57am. Lmao I wonder if I'm actually going to post this series

Chapter 3: Just Keep Driving

Buck slept over at Eddie’s that night, he was just too excited to be by himself. All he could do was talk about you and Eddie didn’t mind it, he hadn’t seen Buck this obsessed with a girl before

“Okay, so what’s the plan exactly?” Eddie asks as he dumps a pile of eggs on Bucks' plate

“You and I are gonna pick Y/N up at Athena’s house around one” He gestures with his bacon before taking a bite

“Why isn’t she driving herself” Eddie asks as he sits down with his plate

“Because she’s only got a bike, she can’t borrow May’s car today, and because I might have told her it was gonna rain so she probably shouldn’t take her bike and that we would pick her up.”

“Is it actually going to rain” Eddie takes a bite of his breakfast and Buck shrugs

“That’s what the forecast said”

“Okay, which seat do you want me in?” He butters his toast and Buck sighs, taking a bite of his eggs

“I’ve been thinking about that all morning, I think I’m just gonna say I had no signal, so you go get her and offer her the front seat”

Eddie chuckles, he’s thought of everything and all of the different paths to get what he wants

“And open the door too!! So she can’t say no!!”

“What if she walks ahead of me and gets in the back first”

“Hold her hand, she’ll think it’s cute”

“You want her to think I’m cute”

“Yeah, like Big Brother, cute!

“Okay what if I drive and you escort her to the car and buckle her in” Eddie offers while sipping his coffee

“Because you can’t drive for shit and this is a new car, plus I’d be in the back”

Eddie scoffs indignantly and narrows his eyes over his cup

“No-no, this plan is the best one, trust me. And if she insists on sitting in the back. You keep your body turned so she feels a part of the conversation. But like try to get her to sit up front anyway because I really really want to see her in my front seat”

“I should trash your entire plan for that jab about the driving but I won’t.”

After finishing breakfast and Buck changing his outfit at least four times, they head out. He even spent the night perfectly curating a playlist that he just felt you’d be super into. He plays it on the way there for Eddie, who goes through it, specifically taking out all his “baby-making” songs

“Oh come on!! I bet she loves that song! Everyone loves Bruno Mars”

“I’m so sorry I’m not listening to you sing Please Me knowing you mean her! I have to draw the line somewhere”

“Okay, well can you draw it at Seven? I can deal with that being off, even if I love Jungkook. And you don’t have a problem with W.A.P. but you have one with Please Me?!”

“Well, you gotta have that one. And If you think for one second I’m not about to unleash my sweet rapping skills with W.A.P you are wrong”

“Yeah okay I’ll give it to you”

“Call me by your name?!” Eddie looks at Buck and Buck whirls on him, putting the car in park at a stop sign and turning to him in order to fully sass his ass

“Eddie. Ed-dee. You tell me right now that you’re gonna delete that”

“….Yeah okay”

“That’s what I thought”

“Wait this is a good one”

Eddie hits play and “Case 143” by Stray Kids starts playing through the speakers. Buck turns the stereo up and looks over at Eddie

“Exactly!!! That’s what I’m saying! Hey, you know I learned the dance for this?”

“Oh my god really?” Eddie is incredibly impressed, as he should be because those dances are not easy.

It’s raining before they even get there and Buck is starting to panic a little, Eddie can tell by the way he’s silent now.

“Buck? Buddy?” He smirks when Buck doesn’t answer. He pokes at his thigh

“Whatcha thinkin'?”

“What if she runs out ahead of you and just dives into the backseat? That's logical, right? Like it’s raining and she told me yesterday she hates water”

Eddie leans back in his seat, watching the cars pass as Buck goes over every tiny detail in his head. He turns back to him and smiles a little

“You trust me right?”

“Course’ I do, why?”

Buck pulls up into the driveway, and unlocks the doors, Eddie reaches in back and grabs an umbrella

“One Eddie Diaz special, comin' up”

Buck watches Eddie as far as he can until he’s left alone. He taps on the steering wheel, everything has to be perfect today, or at least as perfect as he can get it. He knows he needs to be prepared for it to not be perfect but he can’t help himself. Not with a girl like you… he doesn’t want to say anything dumb again, all he ever does is say dumb things around you.

The sound of the passenger door opening breaks him from his internal misery, you hop in and shake the umbrella out, tossing it in the back seat

“Hiya Buck!” You say excitedly, leaning over to hug him. His eyes are huge as he hugs you back

“Eddie said he had to grab something from the kitchen he left last time he came over. He said I could have shotgun since I was a lady” You giggle as you buckle up and sit back

“You okay?” You ask, putting your hand on his cheek “You look a little flushed”

He’s not okay. Because one, you’re sitting in his front seat. And two, this outfit is a real banger. A yellow plaid skirt, fishnets (which drive him crazy), and a cute distressed Nirvana t-shirt tucked into the skirt. Your mini backpack is black and matches your black boots perfectly. He especially likes the belt you’ve got with little metal hearts in it

“Buck?” You ask again and he blinks rapidly before clearing his throat awkwardly

“Oh! Yeah! No, I'm fine I swear I’m good, I’m cool, I am a- you know thing… that is cool”

You smirk and pull your hand away and he lets out the tiniest whimper at the loss of contact. You blush and pretend not to hear it. A deep blush creeps up his ears and he stalls a little.

“So um… did you ever clear things up? With May?” He asks, turning to face you in his seat. You smile softly and fold your hands in your lap

“Yeah, we talked for a long time that night. It’s the first time we’ve really talked at all that wasn’t just you know normal pleasantries” You smile fondly and he leans against the window, listening

“That’s nice, I’m glad you guys can kind of start to build a relationship. The ax offer still stands though, just so you know” He winks at you and you whack his thigh, blushing.

“Oh! I didn’t get to thank you for saving me!” You say suddenly, reaching for your bag at your feet and digging through it

“Oh come on, it’s my job!” He scoffs, putting his hands up “Besides, I’m pretty sure that kiss was thanks enough” His cheeks flush and so do yours as you pull out a little envelope and a small box

“Here!! I made you something”

Buck eagerly takes it from you “Can I- can I open the present first” He smiles sweetly, holding the little box to his face and you laugh

“Of course!”

He takes his time carefully unwrapping it even though you know he wants to destroy it. He folds it nicely and sticks it in his glove box and then opens the box. There’s a rainbow friendship bracelet made of little glass heart beads

“I wanted to make a solid one but I didn’t know what color you wear most so I just made it rainbow” You blush and shrug your shoulders

“I know it’s kinda stupid-“

He leans forward and kisses you, he seems to like to surprise kiss you. You squeak but kiss him back immediately, nipping at his lip a little, he laughs against yours and pulls away just a bit

“I love it and I’m gonna wear it every single day for the rest of my life”

The back door opens and Eddie climbs in, dripping water, he shakes out his hair and looks up

“Uhhh… did I interrupt something?” He grabs a towel from the back seat and wipes his face off

“Look!!!” He takes it from the box and holds it out to Eddie

Eddie takes it carefully and smiles at it, shaking his head “That’s disgustingly adorable”

“Oh my god isn’t it?!” Buck takes it back, slipping it on his wrist. It’s a perfect fit and he slides down in his chair putting his hands over his face

“Oh my god it's perfect Y/N I can’t handle this”

“I’m really glad you like it… cause-“You pull another one from your bag, it matches his perfectly and put it on your wrist

“I made us both one so we could match”

Buck groans loudly and slumps in his chair even more and both you and Eddie laugh at him

“Oh god I’m in love,” he says deliriously and Eddie shakes his head

“He doesn’t mean that. Though that is really cute Y/N”

“You know that’s also good” You reach into your bag and pull out yet another and hand it to him. “This one’s yours”

Eddie’s is a solid navy blue with all three of your initials on it, he puts it on his wrist and smiles “Thank you”

“Yeah, I kinda started going crazy after making me and Bucks” You look at Buck “I made one for everyone! But only you and I match, I put my initials on yours and yours on mine. I wanted ours to be special”

He stares at his bracelet, your initials are on it. He hugs his wrist to his chest and turns to look at you

“Thank you, honestly from the bottom of my heart. These are so cute”

You giggle and close your bag, holding it in your lap “Anytime, maybe I’ll make you a matching necklace” you joke and he sits up properly in his chair now

“If you think for one second I wouldn’t also wear that every day of my life you’re wrong.”

When you and Eddie get out of the car to head into the bowling alley Buck stops, saying he’ll be in soon. He waits until you’re out of sight and opens the card from you. It’s a bad drawing of a little dog in a firefighter helmet and he hugs the card to his chest, he’s gonna get that tattooed he swears. The card is sweet, just thanking him for being there for you and being someone you could confide in…. And there’s a deep, red, kiss mark on it. He kisses the card back and sighs happily

He was so in love

You set your bag down on the chair next to Eddie and then sit down, Buck gets on one knee as he ties your bowling shoes for you

“Are you sure you don’t wanna play?” You ask him, watching Buck concentrate on your shoes for a second before looking at Eddie

“Oh yeah totally, my back is pretty tired today”

“Hey, I’m pretty good at massages if you want one later!” You offer and Buck’s head snaps up so fast Eddie is 90% he just broke his neck

“Uh no! Nooo… no that’s- no that’s okay. It’ll go away! Just gotta rest it!” His excuse is flimsy but believable and you shrug it off. Buck sets your foot down and takes the other

“You know I could have done this myself” you tease him and he looks up at you with a smirk on his face

“Princesses don’t tie their shoes, I don’t make the rules I just follow them”

You blush and get up from your seat, you’re up first. You pick up the purple ball and walk over to the lanes as Buck hands Eddie your bag and plops down in the chair next to him

“Once we’re together, you can have all the massages you want,” Buck says, his arms crossed as he watches you. Eddie snorts laughing and watches the scoreboard, a 6.

“You know it does hurt a little… maybe I should take her up on her offer”

Buck’s mouth drops open and he turns to Eddie, punching him in the shoulder as you turn around

“Did you see that!! I got three!!” You fist pump and do a little dance and Buck melts into a little puddle at how cute you are

“Awww look at you, my lil bowling expert” He coos and you blush, rolling your eyes

“Can you just go?” you say as you switch places and take his seat. Eddie puts his arm on the back of your chair

“Don’t be mad” He says and you frown, confused

“About what?”

He points to the lanes and you turn your head just in time to see Buck roll a strike. Your mouth drops open, it was completely effortless too and you know it. He gives you a little wink when he turns around to get his ball again and you narrow your eyes

He gets a second one and you stand up

“He’s… good at this isn’t he?” You ask Eddie and he chuckles

“Only one better is Bobby”

“You know I could teach you” Buck taunts you as he walks back and you purposely bump into him

“No thanks!”

He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him and you squeak while trying to pull away. He squeezes you tighter as you try to drag yourself to the lanes

“Buck! You’re totally cheating!”

Buck gasps loudly “Me?? Cheating?! How!” He spins you around to face him and you pout

“You’re trying to tire me out” You stick your tongue out and he lets go of you, booping your nose

“Oh honey, if I wanted to tire you out, This?” He gestures between the two of you “Is not how I would do it”

Your cheeks flush as he turns you back towards the lanes, giving your butt a little pat

“Now go on. Make Daddy Buck proud”

“Daddy Buck??” You turn back towards him, snorting

“You’re right! Just drop the Buck part! Sounds better that way”

Eddie “boos” from his seat and you laugh as you go to take your turn, Buck sits back down next to Eddie and bats his eyelashes at him

“Hi bestie”

“Did you just tell her to call you daddy”

“I don’t think we need to discuss that, the past is the past!!”

“What?! What past! it’s been ten seconds!”

Buck spends the rest of the game taunting you harassing you and heavily flirting.

He can’t keep his hands off you either, always on your hips or taking your hand and spinning you away so he can take his turn. He kisses you in a different place each time you finish and you always scrunch your nose up in that cute little way he adores. He enjoys the way your cheeks flush and your heart flutters for him… he doesn’t even mind purposely losing.

Eddie just sits back and watches the whole thing like the third wheel he knew he was gonna be, you both still talk to him and include him, but the tension rising is clear, and he’s wondering when that’s going to explode. It’s only when you finally get a strike and Buck picks you up and spins you around that he finally speaks up

“You guys are gonna make me throw up” He groans when Buck sets you down. You’re giggling as he wraps his arms around you and walks you over to Eddie

“I'm not supposed to celebrate my gorgeous girl getting her first strike? Are you jealous Eddie? Do you want me to pick you up too?”

“Yes, that’s totally what I want,” He says, plainly.

“I dare you” you grin, looking up at Buck, he leans down and kisses your forehead before letting you go, he backs up a few paces and opens his arms

“Alright bet, come on, come to “

“Don’t you dare-“ Eddie gets up from his chair, stretching.

“Daddy Buck,” He says in a sickly sweet high pitched voice. Eddie rolls his eyes but goes over anyway and Buck picks him up spinning him around too

“Lane five, stop spinning people around and finish your game” The man calls over the intercom system. Buck cups his hands around his mouth and shouts back

“Hey! I’ll spin you too if you want”

“Wait, really?” you hear over the system and Buck goes running over to the shoe counter

“He’s ridiculous” you giggle as you sit down next to Eddie, he slouches down in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest, letting his head fall back.

“Yeah but you learn to love him for it” He looks over at you as you twiddle your thumbs and swing your legs

Huh… you are really sweet

“He’s uh…he’s not overwhelming you, is he? I can get him to cool it” he asks, watching you and you smile, shaking your head

“No, no he’s not. He’s so affectionate and open. I almost feel like I’m not giving enough to him” You chuckle a little and he smiles slightly

“Hey, you just met him. And Buck… he’s just that kind of guy you know? He’s very open and helpful. He just wants to be loved by everyone, especially you”

“I just wish I was less shy” You sigh and Eddie scoffs

“Shy my ass, you’ve been making out with him all afternoon”

Your mouth gapes and he laughs, watching you splutter for an answer

“We?! No. No! We have not been making out all afternoon!! It’s just… a friendly kiss between friends!!”

“First of all, you wouldn’t kiss me that much, and I’d like to think we’re friends. Second of all… I think you guys would be pretty cute together if that’s something you want”

“I think I could for sure go on a couple of dates with him” you blush “It’s just if he can put up with me being so… standoffish. It’s fine when it’s the three of us! But I just… I get so nervous when I’m alone with him”

“He literally introduced himself as Bevan and said you had pretty teeth. I don’t think you have to worry about embarrassing yourself; he's done it plenty enough for the two of you already. Just give it a chance…he has a way of bringing out the best in people”

You giggle at Eddie and lean your head on his shoulder, he kisses your head and smiles

“You guys are gonna be perfectly fine”

Buck is acting a little weird as he drives you all to lunch, you and Eddie are singing together and jamming out to whatever random playlist he puts on, but he’s a bit quieter than normal. You pull up to a good burger joint and he shuts off the car

“Hey, why don’t you go get us a table? We’ll be in, in a second okay?” Eddie gets out and opens the door for you and then takes your seat

“Will do!” You salute them and head into the diner and even if he is moping, Buck still turns his head to watch you walk in because he appreciates your ass.

“What happened” Eddie asks and Buck looks at him now, then down at his lap

“Do you like her? Eddie?”

“Of course I like her, she’s adorable”

“That’s… that’s not what I mean and you know it” Buck sighs and toys with the bracelet on his wrist

“Why would you think I like her?”

Buck sighs and lets his head fall against the headrest

“I saw you guys talking…she looked so relaxed around you. And… and then I saw you kiss her head and-“ he tears up the littlest bit and Eddie whacks his thigh

“Evan Buckley do you think for one second I’m trying to steal her from you”

“Of course not! But you’re just so suave and sexy” He sniffles “I wanna be sexy”

“Buck you are sexy you know that! And I was gonna tell you what she was telling me later, but I guess I can tell you now”

“Is it that she never wants to see me again and wants to have your babies?”

“Yes, that’s exactly it” he flicks his forehead, and Buck whines, rubbing the spot

“You make her nervous, like really nervous. She’s shy around you and thinks you won’t like how shy she is. And that’s the simplified we need to hurry up and get in their version”

“She said that?!” Buck unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out

“Yeah, so just you know reassure her that it’s okay she’s that shy you know? I told her it was stupid because you guys were making out all afternoon but she wouldn’t believe me. I was just trying to reassure her I promise”

Buck hugs Eddie, squishing him tightly “Thanks Eddie, and thanks for putting up with my insecurities”

“Anything for my best friend and his girl”

Buck being Buck turns everything up about 10 notches. He slides into the booth next to you and sits way too close, putting his arm over the back of it. Your cheeks flush and he just tells you how cute you look. You look at Eddie helplessly and he just shrugs like he has no idea what’s gotten into him.

“So do you know what you want?” He asks, leaning into you, his chest pressed against your arm and you sink further into the booth

He toys with the ends of your hair and stays in your personal space, the sweet perfume you’re wearing just wafts off of you, surrounding him in a delirious haze. He can smell that expensive conditioner you buy, he can see the glitter on your body from your lotion that he didn’t notice before. Is it bad he just wants to kiss it all off?

“Uhhh probably just a burger I guess,” You say and he looks at the menu in your hands instead of his own

“Okay, but just a plain one? Do you want anything on it?” He’s trying his best to coax the answers out of you, Running a finger over your arm. You gulp and turn to look up at him, and he’s just so close to you, his cologne soaks deep into your senses and you melt under his soft gaze

“Do you, pretty girl?” He asks again, softer now and you bite your lip, your eyes flicking down to his

“How in the hell, are you turning ordering a damn burger into a flirting moment?!”

You and Buck snap out of your little haze to see Eddie sitting with his arms crossed and the waiter standing there awkwardly

“Uhhhh can we have a couple more minutes” Buck blushes sheepishly and you hide in his chest, squeaking in embarrassment

Your burgers are brought out, Eddie made Buck sit on his side of the booth and asked you what you wanted. He ordered for the both of you and Buck put his arms around his neck

“What a gentleman,” He says dramatically, giving Eddie a big kiss on the cheek, you laugh as Eddie pushes him off and wipes at his cheek

“Buck!! Gross!”

You giggle and watch, shaking your head as you bite into your burger. You moan softly and swallow it, wriggling excitedly in your seat

“Oh this is a good one,” you say, but Buck isn’t paying attention to his food anymore he’s paying attention to all of the sounds you’re making. His cheeks are pink as he watches you pop a fry in your mouth and you and Eddie are talking. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, as you make another whimpering noise and he has to hold onto Eddie’s thigh for a second. Eddie blinks and looks down for a second before continuing his conversation with you and kicking Buck’s foot to get him to settle down

“Do you like yours? You’re not eating very much” You ask Buck and his head snaps up to look at you

“Oh yeah! No, it’s delicious!” He picks at his fries and you take one flying it like a little airplane

“Open wide,” You say, your voice sweet like honey, and Buck's eyes go wide as he opens his mouth and you put the fry in his mouth. Eddie closes his mouth for him and pats his cheek

“I think you broke him,” Eddie says, munching on his burger and you giggle

“Oops”

You feed him another fry and he puts his hands on his cheeks, chewing slowly while staring at you, or rather through you. He looks like he’s on cloud nine as you continue to slowly feed him

“We should go on a date,” He says dreamily and you nod along with him, Eddie pauses with his burger in mid-air

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Hundred percent,” he says and Eddie nearly has a heart attack.

“Are we ignoring she’s Bobby’s niece”

“Yes,” you both say together and he nods his head

“Yeah okay, I just wanted to make sure we were all on the same page. Carry on”

“So…will you go on a date with me??“

“Of course I will!”

#words by rhys #rhys writes #911 fox #911 x reader #evan buck buckely #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley #buck x reader #eddie diaz #911 abc #911 show #911 fandom #911 fanfic #bobby nash #Orange Blossoms

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chirpingfromthebox · 2 days

Text

Post Game 5 press session with Taylor Heise

You can find the entire interview here! Be sure to go show them some love/views/likes/nice comments/etc for the work they put in making these so accessible for everyone.

I'm putting basically the whole thing in, or I guess I'm putting in all the questions at least. I did cut out all the bits where they were having issues with their mic setup and their occasional banter while doing so. But if you want to see and hear such exciting things as people fiddling with levels while Taylor reties her hair back and people swapping mics around and doing checks, you'll definitely want to check out the full thing.

Transcription under the break.

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[Taylor approaches the table and begins to sit down]

TAYLOR HEISE: I’ve never done this with my skates still on.

REPORTER: It’s a season of firsts.

TAYLOR: It really is. I would agree.

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REPORTER: Taylor Heise, PWHL champion, Walter Cup champion, Ilana Kloss MVP award winner. Just put into words us.

TAYLOR HEISE: It’s hard to. You know, I’ve been honored to be part of such an unreal organization that has had our backs since day one. It’s awesome to know that this is the only pro that I know. Coming out of college and making so many strides with, whether that be the league coming together as one right after I came out of college, not quite sure where I was gonna go. But this league came a part of an amazing time and people like Kendall Coyne, Hilary Knight, anyone that’s put together hours and hours and hours to have this be a thing. And I’m very honored to be a part of it. Because like I said, it’s the only thing I know. And I haven’t had to go through the grunge of, you know, the ice times in the morning and not getting to games, not having a place to play and practice. So I’m honored to be a part of this great group.

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REPORTER: Taylor, you’re the one voted MVP, but certainly a lot of big efforts from teammates tonight. Nicole Hensley, captain Kendall Coyne Schofield. Can we just get a few words about those around you and just how the entire team came together?

TAYLOR: Yeah, I’ve been ecstatic to play with Kendall and [Michela] Cava here the past few games.* Not to say that they’re the only ones that have done things, because we have had so many amazing performances from every single line on our team. And whether that comes from Liz [Scheper]’s first goal that Syd [Brodt] brought, having two really big- a big point and a big assist, big goal the other day. Nic [Hensley] playing a hell of a game- but you gotta look at Maddie Rooney too. She’s one of the ones that got us through to this point too. So both of them. And then we got Kendall, who’s not only the mom of the league, but the mom of the team. She’s someone who does everything and anything and somehow still has a child. Not really sure how she can do it all, but she does and she manages it quite well. And then Cava. I don’t know if everyone knows this but she’s a four-time champion. Back-to-back-to-back-to-back. She’s had MVPs at almost every single level. She coulda had this right now too. It’s our to share. She’s a special player. She’s someone I’ve been very honored to have played with. There’s so many amazing people on our team that deserve so many props. I couldn’t sit here and name everyone on our team, but we’re excited to go and have some fun here.

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REPORTER: Taylor, first of all, congratulations.

TAYLOR HEISE: Thank you.

R: Second thing, after Game 4, you come out of that, you think you’ve won.

TH: Yeah.

R: How do you mentally reset, come back into this one ready to play, ready to go, and then pull off the victory Away in front of a raucous crowd here at Tsongas Center?

TH: Yeah. I think they robbed us in Game 4 and we all felt that very, very much so. I think to have the feeling of being a champion taken from you is one of the worst things ever. I can’t say that that’s happened to me before, other than last time.

So I think we came into today knowing if we weathered the storm the first 10 minutes we were going to come out on top as long as we put the first goal in. You know, that’s what we did. We weathered the storm and we put the first goal in. So you look at both those things and I think we had a full team effort for today. We allowed, I think, 3 shots in an amount of 20 minutes at one point? It’s hard to win a game when you get 3 shots on net like that. We’re excited to continue this with this group, but it’s just a special moment and I’m excited to share it with the girls.

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REPORTER: Whirlwind year for you, Taylor. For you, to put it into perspective, Billie Jean King calling your name first overall pick, first MVP award winner.

TAYLOR: Yeah, you know, I’m not someone to make anything about me. I’ve never been like that. But you know, it’s a special moment. It’s something I’m going to chalk up to- you know, this [taps the MVP trophy] will sit, probably, in my basement somewhere. But I’m more excited about the group. I’m more excited that I get to live this life with this group of girls who has cared about me since day one. And I’ve known that they’ve had confidence in me and everything I can do. I think recently they’ve really stepped up and put their hand on my back, and made sure I knew that I was loved and cared for no matter what happens: points on the board or wins or losses.

But I just feel very loved and cared for by this group. And that’s something that we’re really happy and special to be a part of. And every team has had great years so far, but I think for us we just came out and gave everything we had at the end of the year. That’s playoff hockey. Being the fourth seed and coming in and not knowing where we were going to be at, is special.

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end of interview

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#pwhl minnesota #taylor heise

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dragonydreams · 17 hours

Text

Cake is a Love Language - BuckTommy, HenRen

Title: Cake is a Love Language Fandom: 9-1-1 Rating: General Audience Pairings/Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinnard, Hen Wilson/Karen Wilson, Denny Wilson, Mara Driskell Additional Tags: Double Date, Cake is Love Summary: Tommy thanks Hen for introducing him to Buck, so Hen invites them over for dinner. Timeline: post 7x06 Word Count: 2,494 Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Reamworks, Brad Falchuk Teley-Vision, Ryan Murphy Television, and 20th Television. Betas: Thank you to @medieshanachie for looking this over for me.

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The doorbell rang as Hen and Karen were getting the kids ready for school the Monday after Chimney and Maddie's wedding. Hen was a little harried as she opened the door to see a man standing there wearing a shirt with the logo for her favorite bakery.

"Andy, what are you doing here? I already picked up my order," she said, thinking of the single cupcake in the fridge decorated in the bisexual flag colors she planned on taking in for Buck.

"Hey, Hen. This isn't an order you placed, but something that was ordered to give to you," Andy said, holding out a box and envelope.

"Who's it from?" she asked, accepting the package.

"Can't say, but they knew what you like," Andy said, turning to go.

"Hang on, let me grab my wallet for a tip," Hen said, quickly.

"Already covered," Andy said and waved as he headed back to his car.

Hen closed the door, more curious than ever, as she carried the box and envelope to the kitchen.

"Who was that?" Karen asked.

"Delivery," Hen said. She opened the box after setting it on the table where Denny and Mara were eating cereal. Inside were four cupcakes.

"Cupcakes!" Denny exclaimed. "Can I have one now?"

"No, finish your cereal," Hen said. "We'll have them for dessert tonight."

"Who are they from?" Karen asked, obviously sharing the same thought as her son.

Hen closed the box and put the cupcakes in the refrigerator and then opened the card. Her eyebrows rose as she held the card out for Karen to see.

Thank you for convincing me to fly into a hurricane. - Tommy

Karen laughed as Denny asked what the card said.

"It's from an old co-worker, Tommy," Hen said.

"You think that's about Buck?" Karen asked, quietly.

"Oh, definitely," Hen said. "We should have them over for dinner. Soon."

"Tell Buck to let us know when Tommy's next free night is," Karen said.

"I will," Hen said. She pulled out her phone and scrolled to find Tommy's contact info.

You're welcome. And thank you for the cupcakes. I'm going to ask Buck, too, but Karen and I would like you to come for dinner the next time we all have a night off.

Tommy replied immediately.

We'd love that. I'll have Evan coordinate our schedules.

"Evan, huh," Hen muttered.

"What's that?" Karen asked.

"I texted Tommy to thank him and invite them to dinner and he said Evan would coordinate our schedules," Hen relayed.

"Who's Evan?" Karen asked, confused.

"Buck," Hen said. "That's his real name."

"I don't think I've ever heard anyone call him that," Karen said.

"They don't. He introduced himself that way when he first started but said to call him Buck, so we do. Maddie's the only one who ever calls him Evan anymore, aside from his parents."

"Interesting," Karen mused.

"Very," Hen agreed.

~~*~~

Buck was already upstairs by the time Hen arrived at the station. She quickly changed into her uniform before heading up. She found him sitting at the table, grinning at his phone.

"I suppose this isn't much of a surprise, but I still wanted to give this to you," she said, placing the boxed cupcake in front of Buck. "Welcome to the family."

Buck's face lit up. "Maybe not, but it is very much appreciated." Then his face scrunched up in confusion. "I thought we were already family."

Hen nodded to the decoration on the cupcake. "That family."

"Oh, right," Buck said, blushing. "Um, yeah, thanks."

"I got the flag right, didn't I? I know we haven't talked about it yet. And there's no rush to label yourself," Hen rushed on, suddenly realizing she may have been presumptuous.

"Hen, it's perfect," Buck assured her, taking her hand in his. "It's the right flag. I'm definitely bi. I still love women, but have recently come to realize that I also really like men."

"You know, I always thought you might be, but since you never talked about wanting to date men, I didn't want to make you confront something you weren't ready for," Hen admitted.

"I probably wouldn't have believed you," Buck agreed. "I had no idea that what I was feeling for Tommy was attraction until he kissed me. I just knew I wanted to spend time with him."

"If you were confused, you could have talked to me," Hen said, a little hurt that he hadn't.

"That's just it, I wasn't confused," Buck said. "It was like everything suddenly made sense. Like that thing that I've been searching for so desperately was suddenly right there. I wasn't confused, I was at peace."

"That's beautiful," Hen said. "I'm so happy for you."

"I'm happy, too," Buck said.

"Karen and I want to hear all about how you and Tommy got together over dinner the next time our shifts all give us a free evening. I already told Tommy when I thanked him for the cupcakes."

"He followed through with that?" Buck asked.

"He did. I assume you told him which is my favorite bakery?"

"Yeah. When he told me he wanted to send you something to thank you for introducing us I told him that cake is your love language and gave him the number to call," Buck said.

"That was very thoughtful, thank you," Hen said. "Tommy already said yes to dinner, so once you have his schedule, he said you'd coordinate on his behalf."

"I look forward to that," Buck said.

The bell went off then, so Buck stashed his cupcake in the fridge before they both ran for the engine.

~~*~~

It took about a week for everyone's schedules to align, but soon Buck and Tommy were ringing Hen's doorbell.

Denny was hovering behind her as Hen opened the door. He and Mara had eaten earlier, but he wanted to say hello.

"Come on in," she greeted them. "Tommy, it's so good to see you again."

"Thanks for having us," Tommy said as he followed Buck into the house.

"Hey, Buck," Denny said, coming over to give Buck a hug.

"Hey, Denny, loving the new hair," Buck said. "How'd it get so long so fast?"

"It doesn't feel like it was fast. I just haven't seen you for a while," Denny said.

"I guess we haven't," Buck agreed.

"Who are you?" Denny asked Tommy.

"Denny, this is Tommy, he's Buck's… date?" she said, unsure of what label they might be using. "Tommy, this is my son, Denny. Tommy used to work with me at the 118, before Buck joined us. He’s the one who sent the cupcakes.”

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Denny," Tommy said, holding out his hand to shake.

Denny shook it and said, "You, too. Those cupcakes were so good."

Tommy laughed. “I’m glad you liked them.”

Hen looked over to see Mara hovering in the doorway, clutching her blanket. "That's Mara over there. She's a little shy." Raising her voice she asked, "Mara, would you like to come meet some of my friends?"

Mara shook her head and retreated from the room completely.

"We’re going to play video games while you have your dinner," Denny said.

"You're not joining us?" Buck asked.

"Nah, we already ate," Denny said. "I'll see you later."

They all watched him go after Mara. "Mara's our foster daughter. She's had a tough time settling in but she's been opening up to Denny. He's being the best big brother," Hen explained.

"You're very lucky," Tommy said.

"We are," Karen said, joining them. "Sorry, I had to get dinner out of the oven before it burned."

"Tommy, you remember my wife, Karen," Hen said.

"It's a pleasure seeing you again," Tommy said.

"You too," Karen said. "Dinner's ready, so let's move this to the dining room."

Karen looped her arm through Buck's and led him to the table with Hen and Tommy following close behind them.

Once the couples were seated on either side of the table, Buck said, "Ladies, you have outdone yourselves."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Hen teased.

"Except perhaps another dinner invitation," Karen added.

"That's all I'm after," Buck said.

"Is he always such a shameless flirt?" Tommy asked, amused.

"Always," Hen answered at the same time that Buck said, "Hardly ever!"

They all laughed and began to serve themselves.

After they'd all had a few bites, Hen said, "Thank you again for the cupcakes. Although I don't feel like I deserved them. Chimney's the one who brought Buck and Eddie to Harbor, not me."

"Don't worry, I got Howie a nicer wedding present than was necessary in thanks. I'd never hear the end of it if I hadn't. Besides, he may have been the one to physically bring Evan into my life, but he wouldn't have been there if he hadn't anticipated you calling in air support to go after Captain Nash and Sargent Grant. We all know better than to ignore your hunches."

"You know, I had a hunch about you," Hen admitted, leaning back in her chair as she looked at Tommy.

Tommy blinked. "How? I was completely in the closet when I was at the 118."

"After Gerrard left, you stopped talking about girlfriends. If you mentioned dating at all you used gender neutral pronouns."

"I didn't think anyone noticed," Tommy admitted.

"I'm sure most of them didn't, but I'm well familiar with that game," Hen said.

"Anyone in our community would recognize those signs," Karen added.

"I probably wouldn't have, but I also got caught out by trying to keep neutral pronouns," Buck said. "That's how Maddie found out about Tommy. I slipped up. Granted, it was the first conversation I'd had after our first date."

"You also came out to the team pretty quickly," Tommy pointed out.

"And what a way to come out," Karen said. "You've gotta tell me, was that planned?"

Buck and Tommy shared a look and grinned.

"Not exactly," Tommy said.

"I mean, Tommy was always going to be my date for the wedding," Buck added.

"But I hadn't exactly planned on coming straight from a fire covered in soot," Tommy continued.

"And I couldn't resist kissing him when I saw him," Buck said, blushing.

"You didn't tell him his face was covered in your soot?" Hen asked.

Tommy laughed. "Oh, I did."

Buck was grinning. "It saved me the trouble of making some big announcement."

"True that," Hen said. She raised her wine glass. "To nonverbal announcements."

They all clinked glasses.

"So that's how you came out, but how did you get together?" Karen pressed, leaning forward in her seat, eagerly.

"Yeah, so do you remember when Eddie had to stay behind on light duty because he'd sprained his ankle during a basketball game?"

"You mean when you pushed him during a basketball game?" Hen clarified.

"Chim?" Buck asked, guessing that Chimney would have given his partner the play by play.

"Chim," Hen confirmed.

"After I took Eddie to urgent care and then got him settled with pain meds at home I went to talk to Evan. Eddie and I had been hanging out a lot since the rescue and I didn't want Evan to think I was trying to come between their friendship," Tommy said.

"I was kinda jealous," Buck admitted, bashfully. "But not just because Tommy was spending so much time with Eddie, but because Eddie was spending so much time with Tommy."

"I get that," Karen said.

"Luckily, so did Tommy," Buck said. "He understood better than I did because I didn't realize it was because I was attracted to him until he kissed me."

"Damn, Kinard," Hen said. "Way to just go for it."

"I've gotten pretty good at reading signals," Tommy admitted. "And if it didn't go the way I'd hoped, it's not like I can't take a punch."

"Eddie's the hitter, not me," Buck said.

"No, you're the pusher," Hen drawled.

"Ooh, ouch," Buck said, hand to his heart, everyone laughing.

Tommy brought a hand up to rest against the nape of Buck's neck. "Luckily, Evan didn't pull away and he agreed to a date that Saturday."

"Which I totally ruined by being an ass when Eddie and Marisol showed up at the same restaurant," Buck said, leaning into the touch.

"He did not," Karen gasped.

"Oh, he did," Tommy said, taking a sip of wine. "Their appearance sent Evan running for that closet."

"I was caught off guard," Buck said, "and I reacted badly. Very badly. After dinner, Tommy ended the date early and left me at the restaurant."

"Can't say that I blame you," Hen said, earning a slap on the arm from Karen.

"I didn't actually blame him. I understood why he'd behaved the way he had, but also I knew that Evan needed to really think about whether or not he wanted to date me," Tommy said.

"Which I did," Buck rushed to say. "Eddie talked sense into me after I told him that he'd interrupted a date and not just a dinner between friends and he convinced me to call Tommy. We met up for coffee the next day and I invited him to the wedding."

"After buying me truly disgusting coffee," Tommy said.

"I guessed at his coffee order," Buck admitted.

"Why didn't you just order him a black coffee with a handful of creamers and sugars?" Karen asked.

"Because if I'd gotten it right he would have been impressed," Buck said.

"Do you still take it–?"

"Yes," Tommy rushed to say. "I take it the same way, which Evan hasn't figured out yet."

Hen tapped her nose and pointed at Tommy. "Gotcha."

"How many cups of bad coffee have you had to drink by not telling him?" Karen asked.

"Way too many, but I'm not giving in now," Tommy said.

Buck turned hopeful puppy dog eyes on Hen.

"No," she said. "You won't get it out of me. Unlike some people on our team, I can keep a secret."

"So you're going to make Tommy suffer through my guesses rather than allowing me to bring him the perfect cup of coffee?" Buck wheedled.

Hen glanced at Tommy who shook his head. "Yep."

Buck gave an exaggerated pout and Tommy used the hand that was still on Buck's neck to pull him closer until he could kiss the pout away.

Hen saw the way that Buck melted into the kiss. She looked over to Karen who had the same soft look on her face that she knew was on her own.

Hen leaned over to whisper in her wife's ear, "I don't think I've ever seen him so relaxed and happy in a relationship before."

"He really is happy," Karen agreed. "They both are."

"Stop talking about us," Buck teased. "We're right here."

"You were a little busy," Karen pointed out.

"Our ears still work," Buck countered.

"And yes, we are happy," Tommy said.

Lifting her glass again, Hen made another toast. "To happiness."

The End

#911 fic #bucktommy #henren #evan buck buckley #hen wilson #karen wilson #tommy kinard #Fic: Cake is a Love Language

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