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#zepskies writes
zepskies · 2 days
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One Exception
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Pairing: CJ Braxton x F. Reader
Summary: Joey has invited you to a party at Pacey’s apartment, and CJ has agreed to go, despite the contentious history between him and your new friends. He doesn’t want to be the reason you miss out on a good thing, but it also means he’ll have to hide his apprehension (and his alcoholism).  
AN: Here’s the sequel to Good Morning! This story takes place in 6.14 of the show, with a little twist.
Word Count: 4K
Tags/Warnings: Mature themes, but it doesn’t really warrant an 18+ rating. Angst, alcoholism, hurt/comfort, jealousy, fluff, tinge of spice, and implied smut.
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“Nice television,” CJ remarked, noting the giant monstrosity in the middle of this very loud apartment.
“See? Told you it’d be low-key,” you said.
More like high and off-key, CJ thought wryly.
Nickleback’s “How You Remind Me” was blaring. People you and CJ recognized from school were crowded in the living room around the TV, as well as milling around the kitchen with beers and solo cups, and it was pretty much a wall of sound that already grated on CJ’s ears. Pacey had to be in here somewhere too.
You squeezed CJ’s hand and gave him a sympathetic smile.
“You okay?” you asked.
He gave you a smile to hide his nerves. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
He was no stranger to parties. He just didn’t often find himself going to parties where the host had once introduced his face to a brick wall.
Before he truly got to know you, CJ had a one-time unintentional fling with your (former) dorm roommate, Audrey. She’d been spiraling out of control in an alcohol-fueled depression. He’d seen a kindred spirit in her and tried to help her. He just hadn’t known that she was still sort of in a relationship with Pacey, who had a mean right hook when he wanted to.
And then there was Jen, Audrey and Joey’s best friend. CJ felt the worst for hurting her along the way, unable to reciprocate her feelings…
And, oh yeah, you still didn’t know about that last part. 
CJ silently stewed in all of this when you led him by the hand to find your friend and current dormmate, Joey.
“Hey! Glad you could make it,” she said with her wide, doe brown eyes and a too-bright smile.
You gave her a quirking look when you hugged her in greeting. She smelled like vodka and orange juice, but you’d never known Joey to go too hard in the paint with her liquor.
She gave your companion a little wave. “Hey, CJ!”
“Hey,” he nodded with a smile.
“You guys want something to drink?” she asked, gesturing to the row of liquor bottles and various chasers behind her on the kitchen counter. You internally paused for a moment, glancing at your boyfriend, but you turned back to Joey with a smile.
“Yeah, Diet Coke would be great,” you said.
CJ gave you a curious look, but he asked for the same. Joey bobbed her head before she went to pour the drinks into some plastic cups.
CJ leaned in near your ear. “Sweetheart, you’re allowed to drink. You know I’ve been to parties before.”
In fact, you and CJ had met at a club party. One where Audrey had been led up to some guy’s room while she was drunk, and CJ had all but broken down the door to get her out for you and Jen.
“I know, I just don’t feel like doing alcohol tonight,” you told him.
It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. You just didn’t want to risk making CJ even more uncomfortable than he likely already was, being near Pacey. You’d asked Joey to talk to him for you—a plea for him to not try and kill your boyfriend.
And there your esteemed host was, coming over now.
“Heyyyy, good thinking,” said Pacey. He went over to Joey’s side when she turned to hand you and CJ your drinks. He grabbed another cup to pour one for himself. 
“Hey, man,” CJ greeted politely. His hands were in his pockets, trying to mask his stiffness.
Pacey hesitated, taking note of CJ, but the beat of tension broke between the two men when Pacey graciously stuck out a hand.
“Hey. Good to see ya…not with my girlfriend,” he quipped with a smile.
CJ’s was a bit more strained, but he gave a wry chuckle along with his handshake. Joey elbowed Pacey in the ribs.
“Ah, what?” he protested. She gave him a firm look, pursing her lips. Then she turned to you and CJ with a smile.
“Hey, you guys have any whiskey?” Jen cut in, as she sidled up to Joey. “I’m not so much in a beer mood, but whiskey I could do. Maybe it’s the burn I’m craving—”
She stopped short when she saw you and CJ. Her smile thinned.
“Oh! Hey, there,” she said.
CJ offered her nod, but his insides tightened. He watched you brighten and give Jen a hug that the other woman couldn’t easily reciprocate. Jen’s eyes were on him, even while she hugged you.
You and Joey then broke off to catch up for a bit (CJ encouraged you to it), while Pacey went back to watching a football game on the mega-sized TV with Jack. CJ was about to join them when Jen’s voice stopped him.
“You guys look good together,” she said. She had a glass of whiskey in her hand and a small smile on her face. Her blonde hair was shorter now, cut just below her ears. Her black halter-style dress suited her.
But she wasn’t you.
CJ smiled more genuinely. “Thanks.”
Jen was a good person. He was still sorry that he hurt her, but he wasn’t sorry for choosing you.
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You were happy to see CJ hanging out with his friend David, along with Jack and Pacey and some other guys from school. Meanwhile, you had the chance to catch up with Joey and Jen.
Maybe it would give you a chance to mend this weird rift of distance that had seemed to come between you and Jen in recent weeks.
You didn’t know where it came from, but you genuinely admired Jen as a person. She was smart, and she always spoke her mind and stuck to her principles. That was something you wish you had more of in yourself.
Now, she was a bit quiet while sipping her whiskey. Joey made up for it, with a kind of giggle-snort you'd never heard come out of her mouth before. You raised a brow, despite your smile.
"Yes, Josephine?" you teased.
"Sorry," she waved a dismissive hand. "Just remembered something. Like the fact that I really like vodka. I mean, it's clear, almost tasteless, so it's almost like drinking water, you know?"
You and Jen shared an amused look.
"Sure, that's what it's like," you said.
Joey's eyes went wide then. She leaned in close to you, leaning on your shoulder.
"Oh. Don't drink champagne though," she said, while eyeing Jen. She "whispered" loud enough to be heard over the music, and also hurt your left ear. "She once killed a girl with champagne."
Jen's mouth fell open incredulously. Your eyes went as wide as Joey's. This was some serious “girl time.”
"Wait, what?" you said.
Jen looked at her empty glass. "Well, would you look at that? Right on time."
She escaped to the kitchen to refill her tumbler, but you and Joey followed her; you out of morbid curiosity, and Joey because she too wanted more vodka than orange juice in her plastic cup.
Jen gave you a smirk as she filled up her glass.
"Don't worry, you're all safe. This is Jameson," she said.
You emitted some nervous laughter and leaned on the kitchen counter, trying to figure out where the joke was here. How the hell do you kill a girl with champagne?
“So are you sure you don’t want an actual drink?” Jen asked, gesturing at your soda.
“Oh, no. I’m fine,” you held up a dismissive hand.
“You sure?” Pacey said, coming up from behind your little group to find a beer. “I got your boyfriend a vodka soda. I can get you one too.”
Your eyes widened, though you tried to hide your alarm, smoothing your hands down your jeans.
“What?” you asked.
Pacey paused. He’d caught the surprise flitting across your face. “What?”
“Um…” Your hesitation came from trying to process information in record time. You looked over and saw CJ with David. Your boyfriend was indeed holding a different cup.
You returned your attention to Pacey. His brows were raised. Joey looked confused as well, while Jen was sipping at her own drink, in a way that hinted that she already knew what you were about to say.
“CJ doesn’t drink,” you explained.
Pacey brows popped higher. “Ah. He’s 21 though, right?”
“Yes, but he’s a recovering alcoholic,” you said with a sigh. You didn’t want to have to say that, telling CJ's business, but you didn’t know how else to explain why you were slightly freaking out.
“Oh…uh, sorry about that,” Pacey said.
“No, it’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it,” you said.
Pacey gave a wan smile and returned to the group around the TV, CJ included. You sighed and turned back to Jen and Joey.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know either,” Joey said.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” you said, shaking your said. “I’ll just check on him, if you guys don’t mind—”
Jen’s glass hit the counter, and she poured herself another whiskey on the rocks.
“By all means, check away,” she said.
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“Hey, sorry man. I didn’t know,” Pacey had said to him, with a look on his face that also said:
Sorry you’re a leper. That’s rough buddy.
CJ found himself withdrawing from the rest of the guys, even as the smell of vodka wafted from the solo cup in his hand. He glanced down at it with a short sigh, but he didn’t drink it, even though his hand itched to raise the cup to his lips.
You startled him a little when your hand curled around his arm.
“Hey,” you greeted in a whisper.
“Hey,” he smiled back at you. But the worried look on your face made his smile fall.
“Wanna hang out for a bit?” you asked, nodding at a quieter looking corner of the living room.
CJ waved at David with the hand that held his cup, and he followed you over to the far side of the couch. You sat on its edge, arms crossed, while he found a seat on the sill of a large window.
You pointedly glanced at his cup. “Have you been drinking?”
CJ’s lips pursed. He took in your stance: arms crossed, shoulders tense, lips pursed, eyes deeply concerned and wary.
Are we having fun yet? he thought dryly.
“See, I’d be more inclined to answer that question if you hadn’t lured me over here under false pretenses,” he remarked. Though he did set the cup down beside him on the windowsill.
“What false pretenses?” you asked, your brows furrowing.
“You don’t want to be with me. You want to check up on me,” he pointed out. “You’re looking at me like an inmate who got loose in the psych ward.”
You frowned then. “That’s not true. I’m just wondering why you would take an alcoholic beverage from Pacey.”
“Your friend offered me a drink. It seemed rude to say no, so…” CJ glanced down at his hands in his lap. Your head tilted in concern.
“CJ…” you sighed. “Why the hell would you ruin your sobriety over something like that?”
“I don’t expect you to understand,” he replied flatly.
“Oh really?” you said. Your lips pursed in irritation.
“I just didn’t want to get into it with a stranger,” CJ said, throwing up a hand. “But thanks for telling him that I don’t drink. Now he’s apologizing to me like I’m dying or something.”
A sharper sigh fell from your lips. “I told you we didn’t have to come here. I didn’t want to make you feel pressured to—”
“Again, you know this isn’t my first house party,” he said.
“Yeah, I know it’s not. So why? Why did this happen tonight?” you asked. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been so disciplined with yourself. You have a set of rules, and you follow them.”
“Yeah, well, did it ever occur to you that maybe I realized that I was too strict on myself?” he said. “That maybe we wouldn’t even be together if I didn’t bend those rules?”
Your mouth fell open incredulously, a bit of anger sparking your blood. He knew he shouldn't have said that. It just kind of flew out of his mouth, immediately sparking his guilt.
“Okay,” you snipped. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be bending those rules at all if this is where it leads.”
CJ's lips pursed. “What, because I’ve been sitting here, spending the last hour debating whether or not to take a drink?”
He gestured at the cup beside him. 
Your eyes blinked wider, with even more surprise, and a heavy dose of confusion.
“Wait, what? Are you telling me that you haven’t been drinking tonight?” you asked.
“Is that going to magically change all the conclusions you just jumped to?” CJ retorted.
You closed your eyes with a sharp, exasperated sigh. When you opened them again, you frowned at him.
“Uh, yeah!” you exclaimed. "Of course it does, CJ!"
“Well, it doesn’t work that way,” he said. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it. Fine. Just like I’ve been trying to find some normalcy with you here. But apparently you find that wildly insulting.”
He was getting wildly defensive right now. You sort of saw where he was coming from, but it was still frustrating. You held a hand to your chest as your heart raced with the force of your relief.
“Look, I’m sorry for assuming. I’m just…I was worried about you,” you said honestly. “I knew coming here might be stressful for you—”
“I can handle stress,” CJ said. “What I can’t handle is you looking at me like I’m a powder keg waiting to explode.”
You raised up placating hands as you glared at him.
“Fine,” you said. “Sorry for being concerned about my boyfriend. I’ll try to curb that behavior in the future.”
At that, CJ’s frustration and anger simmered down, swiftly followed by more guilt.
You got up and blinked quickly, like you were fighting tears as you shook your head. You aimed to get by him, but he got off the windowsill and went for your hand. There was no drunk excuse for his behavior now.
No, this one was all him.
“Hey,” he said, in a softer voice. He looked down at you with softer eyes too. He could see now that you didn’t mean to make him feel less than, like you had to watch him so he wouldn’t mess up in front of your friends. No, you were just genuinely worried about his wellbeing. 
You looked up at him warily. He held your hand more securely in his.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I am,” he said, when he noted your raised brow. “I’m really grateful that you care about me. That you’re concerned about me. But I’ve been dealing with this for a long time. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be yourself either, even when we’re out here in the wild.”
A small smile twitched at your lips. You held his hand back.
“Out in the wild, huh?” you quirked a brow. CJ smiled back and brushed your cheek with his thumb.
“I just need you to trust me a little more,” he said.
You nodded, smiling when his forehead gently rested against yours. The ends of his hair tickled between your brows.
“Okay, I’m sorry too,” you said. “Next time I won’t be so quick on the draw.”
You leaned up for a kiss. CJ met you there, sweetly at first. Then he tilted his head and deepened the angle of his lips moving against yours.
“Ooh save that for later,” Joey said, loudly from behind you.
It made you jolt in CJ’s arms. You turned your head and met your friend with a wide-eyed look of confusion. She held an empty wine bottle in her hand and waggled mischievous brows.
“Come on, let’s play.”
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You really couldn’t believe that Joey was making you all play Spin the Bottle. For you, it was the stuff of awkward middle school horror stories of the highest form. She’d roped in you and CJ, Jen, Jack, Pacey and their roommate Emma, and Gus, a gross looking guy who was apparently her "fiancé" of some sort. 
Gus took the first turn, and got creative with it—giving Joey a nice lick on the cheek.
That’s what you get for making us play this dumbass game, you thought as you laughed.
Joey ended up giving Jack a sweet kiss, followed by him and Emma sharing a little lip-lock, and even Emma and Jen giggling as they came together for a peck.
But when it was Jen’s turn, the wine bottle spun, and spun…and landed on CJ. A chorus of “ooohs” came from the others.
You felt yourself bristle internally. It’s just a game, you reminded yourself. Just a stupid, stupid game.
You patted CJ’s knee and tried to school your face into amusement.
“You’re up, babe,” you said.
He looked a bit uncomfortable when he met your eyes, and then Jen’s. She wore a smile, though she was a little absent in the eyes. She’d been pounding hard liquor pretty much all night.
“All right, CJ. Let’s get this over with,” she teased.
He let out a subtle breath through his nose, but he uncurled his arm from around you so that he could lean over to meet Jen across the circle. Instead of the light peck that he was aiming for, she surprised him by taking his face in her hands and giving him a kiss deep enough to make him taste the burn of whiskey.
He parted from her with a flinch. His eyes blinked wide. A quick glance around the circle told him he wasn’t the only one who was surprised, but you were the only one he cared about. He settled back next to you and felt guilty for your muted disbelief, even though he wasn’t the real perpetrator here.
CJ frowned hard at Jen. She just smiled and crossed her arms around her legs, head bobbing to the tune of the alt rock music playing.
“Damn, Jen,” Pacey said, laughing uncomfortably. “That’s some dedication to the game.”
You were still shocked into stillness. You knew Jen was a bit deep into the bottle, but was she really drunk enough to try and make out with your boyfriend in front of you?
Joey finally dropped her hands from her face (she’d been watching the scene through the cracks in her fingers). She gave you an apologetic look. She was very effing drunk as well, you knew, but not make out with your boyfriend in front of you—drunk.
You finally looked over at CJ, not knowing who you should be more irritated with: Jen for sticking her tongue down his throat, or CJ for letting her.
“It’s your turn, bro,” Gus said. Not that he cared about whoever CJ landed on. He just wanted the chance to kiss another one of the girls. Preferably Emma.
CJ shook his head. “I don’t think I—”
“Go ahead,” you said. Your tone was a challenge, as were your crossed arms, and the tight expression on your face. “It’s just a game, right?”
That last part, you aimed at Jen. She finally had enough self-awareness to avert her drunken gaze. Your teeth were grinding.
Though you had to pause when you realized where CJ’s spun bottle had landed: right on you.
“Aw, well that’s good,” Joey said, with a nervous laugh that broke some of the tension in this little circle.
CJ let out a subtle breath of relief himself. But this was a whole new challenge as he met your steely gaze. He tried to give you a smile.
Your eyes fell. So with a small sigh, he gently took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up to him, just before he leaned in to kiss you.
He plied you softly at first. His lips dragged against yours in a slow, lingering kiss. Then he angled his head away from the circle, away from prying eyes as he brushed his tongue across your lower lip, seeking entrance. You inhaled deeply, and you couldn’t help but let him in.
You uncrossed your arms and found his cheek with your hand. Your fingers soon delved into his hair, nails lightly scraping the back of his neck. He barely restrained a shudder.
“Ah, okay then,” Pacey muttered.
When you parted from CJ, your heart was racing, and there was a fire in your belly that you could see reflected in his eyes.
“I’m a little thirsty, you wanna…” he trailed. You nodded and let him help you off the ground where you all had been sitting.
CJ’s arm once again wrapped around your waist, and he led you into the first bedroom he could find. The door shut against the blaring music, the sounds of laughter and stories and dumb middle school games.
Until all that was left was you and CJ, and the sounds of quick breaths, clothes hitting the floor, and skin against skin.
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“I’m sorry about earlier. With the game,” CJ later said. “Jen took me by surprise.”
Much later, where you were tangled up in his arms and the sheets, both of you mostly naked and tucked under the covers. You felt bad that you didn’t even know whose bedroom this was.
Jack’s maybe? You could only hope so. That would probably be the least awkward situation if you two were caught in here.
But at CJ’s question, your blissful mood of moments before was wiped away. Your face dropped into a frown. You turned in his arms so that you could see his face, resting your head on his arm.
“Yeah, what the hell was that with Jen?” you asked.
CJ soothed a hand up and down your arm. He knew it was time for him to come clean with you, even though he knew it might make you look at him differently. He could only hope that it wouldn’t.
“Before you and I started talking, dating—well, you know what happened with me and Audrey,” he said, expelling a breath of regret. “Before then, Jen had feelings for me.”
Your eyes widened. By now you could’ve guessed that Jen wanted your boyfriend, but you had no idea it had started way back then. CJ looked you in the eyes.
“I just didn’t feel the same way,” he said. “Then Audrey and I happened, just the one night. But Jen…I know I hurt her, and I felt terrible. I still feel bad about that, because I never meant to hurt her. I just thought Audrey and I had a connection.”
“And then Pacey,” you supplied, realizing where this story was headed. A fight between Pacey and CJ. Audrey left for rehab in California. And Jen was left to nurse her wounded pride and hurt feelings…especially when you and CJ began for real.
You closed your eyes on a sigh. This explained why she’d been so frigid to you lately.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” CJ said. “I didn’t want to come between you guys, or hurt her more by pursuing another one of her friends…I just couldn’t help falling for you.”
At that admission, you softened. You caressed CJ’s cheek, and you brought him down to you for a kiss. Again, it was slow and unhurried, yet no less passionate.
Your lips parted from his first, so you could meet his eyes.
“I’ll talk to Jen,” you said. “But…I’m glad I fell for you too.”
You and CJ shared a quiet moment then, each of you processing, hands intertwined. It had you thinking about everything he said tonight, even before the game. 
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it. Fine,” he’d said. “Just like I’ve been trying to find some normalcy with you here. But apparently you find that wildly insulting.”
You sighed and squeezed his hand. It was comfortably trapped between his bare chest and yours.
“Just for the record, you don’t have to be ‘normal’ for me, or be what you think I want around my friends. Just be you,” you said, meeting his green-eyed gaze. “I do trust you, CJ. I trust that you want to be with me, and that you have a handle on yourself.”
CJ smiled ruefully. He ran his thumb across the back of your hand.
“You were right though. The truth is I did get a little nervous tonight,” he said. “Being here, seeing Pacey…it brought up all that drama again. I took that vodka soda from him, and I was thinking about drinking it.”
“But you didn’t,” you said firmly. “Because you’re strong. Stronger than anyone I know.”
CJ looked down at your hand joined with his, at your face, set with honesty and vehemence. You seemed to believe every word of what you were saying. That alone made him feel strong.
“Thanks,” he said with a smile.
It hadn’t been all that long, but he knew this felt right. It always felt right with you.
You smiled back at him and leaned up for a sweeter kiss.  
“Thank you for bending your own rules for me,” you teased.
CJ chuckled. He stroked your cheek and pressed another kiss to your forehead.
“You’re my one exception,” he said.   
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AN: As frustrated as CJ made me at times, somehow he weasels his way back into my heart. 😂💗 If you enjoyed this, let me know!
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
CJ Braxton Masterlist
Main Masterlist
CJ Tag List:
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007
@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @brianochka
@branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords 
@deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70
@clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy
@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @jessjad @pieandmonsters @deans-spinster-witch
@idiotdyslexic @heartlessdelusions @chriszgirl92 @peytongoose @hobby27
@waynes-multiverse @lovelyunjinn @twinkleinadiamondsky
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kaleldobrev · 7 months
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A Simple Misunderstanding
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Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Fem!Reader
Summary: Hughie might of overheard something he probably shouldn't have between you and Ben
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Cursing (9x), Fluff, Sexual Innuendos, Implied Drug Use, Soldier Boy (Yes, our macho man gets his own warning)
Authors Note: So, this has been sitting in my drafts for months and I've been going back and forth debating if I was going to post this or not. But once I gave the summary to @zepskies she said she was intrigued, so I said, "What the heck?" and now it's posted for your enjoyment | This is my first time writing for this universe so I hope I was able to do these characters justice | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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It was the middle of the night and Hughie couldn’t sleep. Although him and The Boys were in a safe house in the middle of nowhere with no neighbors for miles, it surprised him how noisy everything could be. He had lived in New York City all his life; he was used to the noise. The bustling sounds of traffic, the occasional gunshot or stabbing, airplanes always flying overhead, or a supe destroying some vehicles while trying to catch a culprit. But the noises he heard were much different; it was the sounds of the crickets, droplets of water hitting an unwashed plate in the sink, and random incoherent whispering. The hustle and bustle of the city had become white noise to him.
Looking over at the clock it just struck 1:59am. He hadn’t been in bed long trying to sleep, only attempting to just a little past midnight. Since joining the group, it was unusual for him to actually get to bed at a normal time or even go to bed at all. He was used to going a day or two without sleep. Frenchie tempted him with some sort of drug to keep him going or an energy drink, MM would usually offer coffee which was the preferred method for Hughie. But at this point, the caffeine wasn’t working anymore, as he had started drinking it like water. Unhealthy for sure, but so was not sleeping for one, two, or three days straight.
This was the first time in a long time where everyone was actually sleeping, even Butcher. It was strange, because as long as Hughie had known him, he never once saw the man sleep. The closest he ever got was when he would get knocked out; but even then, that was kind of a rare occurrence.
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Getting up from his bed he sat on the edge of it for a moment rubbing his face. He had wanted to stay in bed and keep trying to fall asleep, but he knew that there was no use. So he decided to implement a trick that he remembered his mother using when she couldn’t fall asleep or get back to sleep. When she had trouble falling asleep or getting back to sleep, she would do various things to occupy herself until she felt tired enough to try and sleep again. Her usual go-to’s were either reading in the living room or listening to Billy Joel quietly to herself. Once, Hughie remembered waking up in the middle of the night and had found her humming quietly to herself while she read a book in the living room. The only light came from a single table lamp next to her.
Leaving the bedroom he started making his way down the hall toward the living room where he decided to watch some TV. There would probably be nothing worth watching at this time; just infomercials about grills or some kind of cleaning agent that didn’t work. He really wasn’t picky about what he watched, he just wanted something to help him fall asleep.
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As he walked down the hall, he heard faint whispering coming from one of the bedrooms. He thought that he had been the only one up - guess he was wrong. The room in which he heard the whispering coming from was Soldier Boy's room - something that he didn't find surprising in the slightest, as he was someone that actively fought sleep. "I've slept enough," he would say.
He started walking away, but didn't move far as he stopped dead in his tracks. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" That was your voice. What the Hell were you doing in his bedroom? And at this hour? Hughie thought to himself. He knew that the two of you were friends of some sort, as you were the only person that SB genuinely seemed to like and get along with, but for some reason, it didn't really occur to Hughie that you would be spending time with him this late into the night.
The next thing he heard was chuckling, chuckling from SB. "Trust me." The next sounds Hughie heard actually made his eyes go wide. It was the bedside drawer opening and closing just as quickly, the sound of some kind of plastic being opened, and then bed springs squeaking. The squeaking was so loud that he could only assume that it was the two of you moving in unison, not just one of you.
“Oh wow that’s…huge.” You commented, emphasizing the word ‘huge.’ Huge? Hughie thought. Gross.
Again, SB chuckled. “Never seen one so big Princess?” Princess?! Hughie was surprised he didn’t gag right then and there. Never did he ever want to hear SB say the word Princess, nor did he ever want to hear it in the context of it being used to describe you; his best friend since kindergarten.
“No, never.” You replied back, sounding as if you were embarrassed. “I mean, I’ve heard they can be that big but…” you trailed off.
So many emotions were taking over Hughie: but disgust was the main one. There were two things that his brain automatically came up with in this scenario. The first: barge into the room and stop you and Soldier Boy from having sex, the second: move far away as possible from the door and pretend this never happened. As much as he wanted to do the first option, he valued his life too much, didn't want to see Soldier Boy in all of his naked glory (once was enough when they were in Russia), nor did he want to be a cockblock for one of the oldest and most powerful supes in history. He knew, that being a cockblock would have been the very last thing he would do in life if he barged in. Option two it is, he thought to himself. With that decision, he never moved so quickly in his life.
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The morning finally came and you were greeted by Ben having his arms wrapped around you and your head tucked underneath his chin. His embrace around you was tight, but not so tight that if you needed to move, you could (not that he would let you move any way, he was too comfortable). He's getting better at not crushing me when we cuddle, you couldn't help but think. The position the two of you were in was an intimate one, and it had become a somewhat regular occurrence over the past couple of weeks. It was something that you never thought would ever happen, especially when you first met him a few months ago.
Your relationship with Ben had drastically changed in the short amount of time that you had known him and took a complete 180. When you first met him, you were initially excited to meet him because you had watched all of his movies on repeat growing up as your father was a huge Soldier Boy fan - it was something the two of you had bonded over. But when you met him, he was far from how you envisioned him to be. He wasn't this all-American hero who stood up against injustice - he was a misogynistic racist asshole.
As time went on, Ben had somehow started to grow on you. Although there were still elements of him that radiated misogynism and racism, you gave him the benefit of the doubt when it came to certain things. How it wasn't entirely his fault, as he had spent 40 years essentially in isolation being tortured by the Russians; completely unaware of the massive changes that took place in the world. Once you had "remembered" that, and started spending more and more time with him, you had started to fall for him - and it happened relatively quick.
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"Good morning." He said to you, his voice lazy as he kissed your bare shoulder.
"Good morning to you too." You replied back, pressing your back and ass closer into him.
"Your heart's beatin' a little fast there Princess." He smirked.
"It's just nice waking up like this, that's all." You said. "Well, you kissing my bare shoulder doesn't hurt either."
"You know, I can kiss other parts too." He said, keeping the smirk on his lips.
"Hmm, I know you can." You said, turning to face him. He leaned in and kissed you, a little surprised that he was the one that initiated. "Can I ask you something?"
You heard an annoyed sigh from him. "You're going to ask if I say no or not Sweetheart." He responded with his usual bluntness.
"Yeah you're right." You said. Ben couldn't help but slightly roll his eyes. "So my question," you began, turning to face him completely as you propped up your elbow on the pillow. "Why didn't you try and have sex with me last night?"
Ben looked at you with a mixture of confusion and amusement. "You're disappointed that I didn't try and fuck you?" He let out a small chuckle at your question.
"Honestly...Yeah. I mean, everyone was sleeping, and I know you want to. Plus, I barely had anything on." When you came to his room last night, you had purposely wore more revealing clothes in order to tempt him - a tank top and boy shorts.
"You wouldn't've been able to stay quiet." He began. "Although, it would have been fun to hear you attempting to be quiet and failing miserably." There was that smirk again.
"You don't know that." You said, your fingertips running up and down his bare arm.
"Y/N, trust me. You wouldn't have." His confidence was almost radiating arrogance.
"Is that a promise?" You asked. Your question more bold than you had intended it to sound.
"Oh, it most definitely is." He said. "I'll tell you what. We can test it out tonight." He leaned in, inches away from your face, moving a strand of lose hair that had fallen in front of your face.
"Promise?" You asked, your voice low, a little hesitant.
"I didn't stutter did I?"
"No Sir." You said, leaning in and kissing him again.
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The smell of bacon, eggs, and pancakes filled the air, glasses of orange juice on the table. MM and Frenchie making breakfast for everyone while Kimiko helped to set the table. Butcher sat on the barstool on the island in the kitchen, every once in a while taking a sip of coffee and reading the paper. Hughie walked into the kitchen and took a seat next to Butcher, his face looked like he had seen a ghost. Putting down the last plate, Kimiko looked at Hughie and walked over to him, tapping him on the shoulder. He didn’t respond to her touch, which made her slightly frown with concern. Frenchie looked over at her and she signed something to him. “Petit Hughie, she wants to know what’s wrong.” Frenchie translated.
Hughie didn’t respond, he just sat there on the stool looking off into space. Frenchie waved his hand in front of Hughie’s face. “Petit Hughie?” Frenchie and MM exchanged looks, and Butcher put down the paper.
“Oi, lad.” He waved his hand in front of his face too. He looked over at MM and Frenchie. “I know what to do.” Without hesitation, Butcher slapped Hughie in the face, causing him to almost fall off the barstool.
Hughie started rubbing his cheek where Butcher had slapped him. "What the fuck was that for?"
"For being a creepy little shite and not saying anything when we're talkin' to ya." Butcher responded.
"I had uh, a rough night." Hughie said. He pointed at his cheek. "This isn't going to bruise is it?" He asked, Butcher rolled his eyes.
"Do you want me to make it bruise?" He asked, smirking.
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"Good morning everyone!" You practically sang as you walked into the kitchen. Everyone besides Ben had been there, as he was still currently pre-occupied with taking a shower. Everyone was currently sitting at the dining room table, slowly taking bites of their breakfast. Every so often, they took glances at you before looking back down at their plate of food.
Sitting down at the table, you took your usual spot next to Hughie and gave him a quick smile, before taking your fork and started digging into your pancakes. "MM, Frenchie, did you guys make this?" You asked, already knowing the answer.
"Uh, yeah." MM responded, almost too quietly. It was a little strange to you how quietly he had responded, but at the same time, you didn't really think anything of it, as the last couple of days has been a little rough for everyone. Despite being in a safe house, you knew that MM was at least up some of the night making sure that all of you were actually safe. You weren't sure if it was because of the situation you all were in, his military background, his OCD, or a combination of the three.
After a few moments of silence Hughie finally spoke to you. "So, how did you uh, sleep?"
You took a sip of your orange juice before responding. "Pretty good actually. Best I've slept in quite a while." Which was true. "How about you?"
"Rough night." Hughie said, responding very quickly to your question, as if he already had his answered prepared.
You frowned at his answer. "I'm sorry. Nightmare? Couldn't sleep?"
"A little of both." He said.
"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked, genuinely wanting to know.
"Ye-" Before he could finish his sentence, Ben walked into the kitchen, freshly showered and wearing a t-shirt that you had gotten him about a week ago. Without saying a single word, Ben took his usual spot next to you and started digging into the plate of food in front of him.
You cleared your throat and looked at him, which caused him to look at you. "What?" He asked, a mouth full of pancakes.
"Isn't there something you'd like to say?" You asked.
"Christ on a cross..." He mumbled, before looking up. "Morning." He said, forcing a smile before looking down at his plate again. "Happy?" He mumbled just low enough for only you to hear.
You smiled at him. "Very." You whispered back.
"The things I fucking do for you." He mumbled.
Hughie stood up very abruptly, the utensils and plates shaking a bit. This abruptness had caused everyone to look at him (except for Ben, who didn't even seemed bothered in the slightest). "You know what, I'm just going to come out and say it." His voice confident.
"We know you're gay." Ben said, very nonchalantly, still not looking up. "It's uh, good for you." He looked up now, focusing his attention on Hughie. "Be proud or...whatever." He finished, flashing him a forced smile. Ben then turned toward his attention to you, looking for some kind of approval from you regarding what he just said. Trying to adjust to the modern age was hard for him, but he was thankful that you were there to help him navigate things.
"What? I-I'm not gay. For the last time, I'm with Annie." Hughie said, trying his best to defend himself.
"I've been told that's called a beard." Ben took another bite out of his pancakes, and your hand automatically went to his thigh, giving it a small squeeze. It was your way of basically telling him to stop talking. He looked at your hand before looking at you again. "What?"
You turned your attention to your friend. "Hughie, what did you want to say?"
"Okay. I'm just going to come out and say it. Ask it. Whatever!" His voice sounding insanely flustered. "Did you guys fuck last night?"
You felt your eyes go wide, your fingernails digging into Ben's pants. You didn't know what to say, you were speechless. "What's it to you?" Ben asked, not even seeming to be remotely fazed by Hughie's question.
"Because she's my friend." Hughie responded. He knew that his response wasn't good enough.
"Okay, and?" Ben gave him a confused look, unsure of what Hughie's point even was. "I'll repeat, what's it to you? Y/N doesn't ask every time you blow Butcher."
"Again, I'm not gay." Hughie said, his voice sounding defeated.
"Whatever. Point is, she doesn't fucking ask. So why are you asking?" You couldn't help but agree with Ben, who seemed to be very reasonable in his questioning for once.
Hughie looked at Ben and you, and then looked at the rest of the group - all of them staring at him, waiting for him to say something. "Because..." he tried to find the right words. "Because you two are the reason why I couldn't sleep last night!" You and Ben exchanged looks, not understanding. The two of you focused your attention on him. Before either you or Ben could say anything, Hughie started talking again. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" He looked at you. "Never seen one so big?" He looked at Ben. "You're even wearing his fucking shirt!" Hughie pointed to the shirt you were wearing.
You looked down at your shirt before looking at Hughie again. "I always wear Ben's shirts." You stated.
"No, you don't actually!" Hughie's voice was starting to sound so frantic now.
"She looks damn good in them though." Ben commented, taking yours and his empty plate to the sink.
"Hughie, I can assure you. Me and him didn't have sex last night." You said, really trying your best to reassure your friend, even though - to Ben's point - it wasn't remotely his business anyway.
"We will tonight though." Ben said, his voice calm as it has been throughout this entire exchange.
"They didn't need to know that." You pinched the bridge of your nose. You weren't embarrassed that Ben said that, but it was something that you didn't think he needed to add to the conversation.
"Sure they did. I mean, your friend here seems interested." Ben walked over back to the table, placing two mugs of coffee before sitting back down next to you again.
"For the love of..." You mumbled. "We smoked a blunt last night! There! Happy?" Your voice was the one that sounded frantic now, with a small hint of annoyance added.
"You guys...smoked...a blunt?" Hughie felt his cheeks heating up, embarrassed by this whole exchange now. "So you guys weren't talking about the size of his -"
"Hughie you better not finish that fucking sentence I swear to God." MM said, his voice sounding as if he had lost all of his patience already for the day, and it wasn't even nine in the morning yet.
“Ben and I were talking and I had mentioned that I’ve never smoked a blunt before, or have done any kind of drugs so he offered to let me try it. That’s it.” There was much more to the conversation, but you didn't feel like adding anything else. The rest of the gang didn't need to know that you and Ben were planning on going some place far away from New York when all was said and done.
"You never smoked a blunt before? I'm shocked." Butcher stated. "Swear you have." For as long as he had known you (which was quite a while now, as you joined The Boys about a year before Lamplighter had killed Mallory's grandkids), he could have sworn up and down that you were on some kind of drugs, but he never could put his finger on it. He thought about asking you of course, but he always decided against it.
"It's shocking I know." You shrugged. "I guess it's never appealed to me."
"Well it's a good thing you're with Mister Coke Head over here." Butcher said, adding a little chuckle at the end.
"Just because we're together doesn't mean I'm gonna start doing drugs with him Butcher." You defended.
"She'll be too busy doing other things." Ben smirked, before winking at you.
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Tag List: @jackles010378 @zepskies If you want to be added to a tag list, let me know!
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perseephoneee · 11 days
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⭑ FIC RECS ⭑
↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ 1k celebration
last updated: 04/15/2024
↳ as a writer, i'm always consuming things about my favs, and i thought it was time to share some of my favorites. every story here has likely been reread by moi a million times. also-- my psyche can be easily viewed by how many stories are under one individuals *cries*
SUPERNATURAL
every headcanon from @via-l0ve
her boys @octoberclidan. (tfw)
dances with team free will @octoberclidan
꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ DEAN WINCHESTER
cruel summer (18+) @waynes-multiverse
ladies with experience (18+) @hintsofhoney
dean reads you wrong @zepskies
she's my siren (18+) @fatecantstopme
smoke eater (series) @zepskies
꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ SAM WINCHESTER
a taste of summer @impala-dreamer
꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ CASTIEL
dreaming (18+) @impala-dreamer
beautiful to me @impala-dreamer
angel alpha (18+) @crashdevlin
i'll watch over you @octoberclidan
if you will have me, i'm yours (18+) @gilverrwrites
neckties @supernaturalfreewill
love, by any other name @zepskies
peculiar @supernaturalfreewill
because of books @supernaturalfreewill
last night on earth (18+) @hollybell51
don't bet on it (18+) @hollybell51
his charge (18+) @impala-dreamer
sharing is caring (III) @zepskies
TEEN WOLF
꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ ISAAC LAHEY
sick reader @smellslikemultifandomimagines
aftercare @smellslikemultifandomimagines
hidden with isaac @scoopsahoy
mutual losing (18+) @smellslikemultifandomimagines
facesitting (18+) @smellslikemultifandomimagines
cruel summer @hotdogwillex
come back to me @hotdogwillex
cold feet, warm bodies (18+) @scoopsahoy
i'm gonna kiss you now @sourwulf
drunken confessions @teenwolffan-with-nolife
dream @rogershoe
fratboy!isaac (18+) (all time fav) @mermaidenisaacs
teaches you to kiss (18+) @mermaidenisaacs
prove me wrong (18+) @twjournals
VAMPIRE DIARIES
dating the mikaelsons @wholoveseggs
꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ ELIJAH MIKAELSON
hold (18+) @wholoveseggs
extra-extraordinary (18+) @wholoveseggs
blood bath (18+) @wholoveseggs
warmth (18+) @wholoveseggs
the result of naps @fitzs-trained-monkey
꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KLAUS MIKAELSON
she knew better (18+) @klausysworld
distracted @theeoriginals
you bring me home @theeoriginals
sharp (18+) @theeoriginals
꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KOL MIKAELSON
christmas khaos @wholoveseggs
goodnight kisses @kmikaelsonimagines
frustrations (18+) @madhatterbri
thigh socks (18+) @geminioriginalsimagines
proposal @kmikaelsonimagines
Christmas in dixie @fitzs-trained-monkey
bruised and battered @fitzs-trained-monkey
shots @so-long-soldier-writes
little favors @fitzs-trained-monkey
of ice skates and sugar cookies @fitzs-trained-monkey
ten minute blood stain removal @fitzs-trained-monkey
like a box of chocolates @fitzs-trained-monkey
꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KAI PARKER
for my valentine (18+) @babeydollx
lace (18+) @geminioriginalsimagines
game on (18+) @socio-kai-path1972
kisses @socio-kai-path1972
why? @socio-kai-path1972
affinity romance (18+) @socio-kai-path1972
is it hot in here? (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth
party crasher (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth
sex tea (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth
say it again (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth
the red means (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth
the price of hatred (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth
spoiled (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth
birthday girl (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth
STAR TREK
꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ JIM KIRK/BONES
a well documented debacle @mybullshitsensesaretingling
꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ PAVEL CHEKOV
sweatpants @youre-on-a-starship
MARVEL
꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ LOKI
reformed villain squad @give-me-a-moose
overtime (18+) @cleo-fox
loki's happy ending @gingerwritess
꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ BUCKY BARNES
graveyard @wkemeup
꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ STEVEN GRANT/MARC SPECTOR
red flags (18+) @astroboots
HUNGER GAMES
꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ FINNICK O'DAIR
oral headcanon (18+) @lucilleslore
darling and the virgin (18+) @wife-of-all-dilfs
TED LASSO
꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ JAMIE TARTT
chilly cheeks @veryberryjelly
about you @buckychristwrites
saved you a seat @benedictscanvas
operation: tartt's heart @theowritesstuff
DOCTOR WHO
꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ TENTH DOCTOR
family christmas @writerlyhabits
gestures and evasion @doctenwho
before you go @doctorslove
falling in love again @doctorslove
CRIMINAL MINDS
꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ SPENCER REID
virgin!spence (18+) @fortheloveofwonderland
i'd bottle the feelings you gave me @spencersfunkysocks
all the women he's loved before @fortheloveofwonderland
a helping hand (18+) @sinfulspencer
second date @samuel-de-champagne-problems
preciously pure (18+) @foxy-eva
STRANGER THINGS
꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ BILLY HARGROVE
two ships passing in the night @hairringtonsteve
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waywardxwords · 5 months
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Taking Chances
Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.
Series Warnings: Language, smut (eventually, so this series is 18+ only). Some others may appear. Warnings will be listed at the top of each chapter.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader
This was born out of the one shot I wrote in October called Rules were meant for Breaking. This story doesn't follow along with any specific timeline or storyline from Supernatural, and there will be things that differ in this story than what took place on the show.
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Chapter 1 - Rules Were Meant for Breaking
Chapter 2 - Nothing to Lose
Chapter 3 - We'll Always Have Atlanta
Chapter 4 - Cherry Pie
Chapter 5 - Last Names
Chapter 6 - Demons, Spirits and Angels, Oh My!
Chapter 7 - We're Not in Kansas Anymore
Chapter 8 - Save Me
Chapter 9 - Stay (4/25)
Chapter 10 - Call Me Yours
Chapter 11 - Tell Me I'm Gonna Be Okay
Chapter 12 - We're All Afraid Sometimes
Chapter 13 - Home
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A/N: It feels so good to be starting up a new series, I've missed writing the last few weeks! Updates will be made every Thursday!
Tag List: @jackles010378 @ladysparkles78 @hallecarey1 @zepskies @lyarr24 @roseblue373 @deans-spinster-witch @stillhere197 @deans-baby-momma @nix-rose @djs8891 @globetrotter28 @k-slla @agentorange9595 @dragonfly92 @nancymcl @springsteeen @perpetualabsurdity @deanwinchestersgirl87 @mimi-luvzyu @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @ultimatecin73 @impalaspixie @daughterofcain-67 @lacilou @jasminewinter140 @yvonneeeee @stoneyggirl2 @rizlowwritessortof @marimarvelfan @jc-winchester @taylortot @siampie1990 @thewritersaddictions @raisinggray @tabsluvsu @rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @nyotamalfoy @ades106 @akshi8278 @fanfic-n-tabulous @officialnighttime @so-get-this-sammy @malindacath
Want to join the Tag List? Click here!
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deanwinchesterswitch · 2 months
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Need reading material for the weekend?
Check out these fabulous blogs.
@thinkinghardhardlythinking // @wayward-and-worn @princessmisery666 // @waywardbaby // @impala-dreamer // @muchamusedaboutnothing // @calaofnoldor // @justagirlinafandomworld // @zepskies // @stusbunker // @thoughtslikeaminefield // @watermelonlipstick // @carryonmywaywardcaptain // @avanatural // @amanda-teaches // @coffee-obsessed-writer // @deanwanddamons // @jawritter // @cleighwrites // @kittenofdoomage // @atwistoffate // @covered-byroses // @hoboal87 //@cockslutpadalecki // @girl-next-door-writes // @idreamofplaid // @talesmaniac89 // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt // @winchest09 // @jensengirl83 // @kickingitwithkirk // @my-proof-is-you // @risingphoenix761 // @soaringeag1e // @smol-and-grumpy // @mrswhozeewhatsis // @angelkurenai // @rizlowwritessortof // @there-must-be-a-lock // @littlegreenplasticsoldier // @katelyn--renee // @enigmalynne //@our-jensen-ackles-love // @wingedcatninja // @fictionalabyss // @atc74 // @talltalesandbedtimestories // @navybrat817 // @trexrambling // @little-diable // @lipstickandwhiskey // @sunlightdances // @wkemeup
There are also over seventy stories posted on @jacklesversebingo!
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siampie · 18 days
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Get Off the Highway || Chapter 2
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader
Word Count: 3.3K 
Warnings/tags: Enemies to lovers trope, pining, angst, fluff, childhood trauma, eldest daughter syndrome, mention of depression
A/N: Alright, I struggled to write this chapter. I wanted to get the interactions between Dean and Reader right but also, wanted to give you more info on Reader. So, I really hope you’ll like this chapter.
Previous Chapter || Chapter List || Next chapter
Masterlist || Join my tag list
Tag list: @lyarr24, @deans-baby-momma, @hell0-ki11y111, @kr804573, @zepskies, @impalari, @urinternetmom, @sushiumex
Dividers by @cafekitsune
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You poured the salt on the corpse. You cracked a match and threw it on the body. Flames engulfed the bones. You stood there for a little while longer. The poor girl had not stood a chance. Her family had been horrible to her. Put her through torture. And that was decades ago. She had no reasons to remain amongst the living, no reasons to haunt them. They weren’t the one who had hurt her and yet, she still wanted revenge. Blinded by her rage, the spirit had killed the people that had lived in her mansion over the years. Some were classified as natural deaths, and others as freak accidents. With so many deaths in one mansion over the years. All happening at a specific time of the years, you had to check it out.
It was a run of the mill hunt. Quite easy. You threw your bags in the trunk of your car, and climbed in the driver’s seat. Your goal was to get out of town as quick as possible, to disappear. You drove through the night. You wanted to get to your small flat as quick as possible.
Your two bedrooms apartment was your refuge. You could go there and recuperate for a few days. You loved hunting, you really did but you sometimes needed a break from it. Adding to the dangerous nature of the job, and the constant near death experiences, it was also draining. And rarely, was it ever rewarding. But that was not why you were doing it. You truly believed that everyone in this life was born with a purpose. There were people born to be doctors, or cops, or even firemen. And some were born to be hunters. That was you.
One fateful night, you found out that monsters were real. Everything that went bumping into the night, the monsters under the bed, the witches, vampires, werewolves, they were all real. That fateful night was also the start of your aversion for woods, camping and wendigos. You hated all three of those things, and you avoided them at all cost. But it had not deterred you from getting into the life. After finding out about them being real, you could not just ignore it. You could not keep living your life as though nothing had happened. As though you knew nothing of monsters and of the people that hunted them.
So, you became one yourself.
The sounds of gunfire welcomed you as you pushed your door open. And the voice of your youngest brother swearing at the television followed. You pushed your door closed behind you with a tired sigh. Sure, you had texted him to let him know that you would soon be back. But you had not expected him to be there still.
“That’s not why I left you a key, you know?” You said dropping your bags by the door, after you locked it.
He put down the controller on the coffee table. “Your plant is taken care of.” He shrugged turning to you. “You look awful.”
“Thanks.” You answered dryly. You dropped your keys on your dinner table, and moved to your kitchen. “Want a beer?”
“Yeah,” He got up and followed you into your kitchen. “So, how was it?”
“Matt—”
“Come on, you can tell me.” He leaned on the counter behind him.
“I don’t want to tell you.” You shook your head. “I’m not talking about it with you or anyone else.”
“Why not?”
“Because—we are talking about hunting monsters. And I don’t want any of you into the life.” You moved back into your living room. “And what the hell are you still doing here anyway? Don’t you have a girlfriend to go back to?”
“Just wanted to make sure, you were alright before I left.” He shrugged.
You smiled fondly at him. “That’s so sweet.” You cooed at him, pinching his cheek. He swatted it away.
“Stop.”
You snorted. “I’m alright, not injured. So, you can go back to your girlfriend.” You slapped his shoulder.
“you’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” You nodded. “Go.”
“Alright, call if you need anything.”
“I won’t.” You called after him. “And don’t call me for the next few days, please.”
“I will.” He walked and locked behind him.
You spent the next few days locked up in your apartment. True to his words, your brother called you. But you really did not mind. Your youngest brother only wanted to make sure that you were taken care off. After all, you were living alone while he and your two other siblings had people to come home to.
Building relationships with anyone had never been easy for you. Especially romantic ones. Something always went wrong. You felt as though you were giving more than you were receiving. You always thought that you were not understood as you did them. And instead of expressing those things, you kept quiet. You let things go, hoping they would solve themselves. And ultimately, it would lead to break-up.
You never stayed home too long. You gave yourself a few days off, away from hunting and monsters, before going back into the fray. It wasn’t surprising to find you back on the road within days. And you always let your brother know when you did.
Out of all your siblings, he was the closest to you. The one that truly worried about you and made sure you were alright and taken care of, when you were home. And to think both of you hated each other growing up, was just laughable now. You knew you had failed him when you were younger. Always siding with your parents, trying your best to keep peace within your family. It had put a strain on your relationship with your siblings over the years.
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“Agent Prentiss, FBI.” You flashed your fake FBI badge to the officer on the scene.
“Officer Davis.” He introduced himself. His eyes inevitably landed on your cleavage area.
Your white buttoned-down shirt was a little tight around your breast, you had left a couples of buttons undone. Which was giving him a glimpse of it  
“What brings the FBI into this neck of the wood?” Davis said, clearing his throat.
You smirked as you caught him ogling at your cleavage. “The bureau has taken an interest into the recent strings of death that has been happening lately.”
“There’s nothing interesting in a couple of animal attacks.” Davis scoffed.
“True but these are quite unusual.” You pointed out. "Hearts missing. And nothing else. Doesn't really sound like an animal to me."
“Look, it’s better if people think it’s an animal.” Davis said quietly to you. “We don’t want them to panic while there’s a killer on the loose.”
“I completely understand your situation, trust me.” You told him. “I’m only here to help you. Maybe, a set of fresh eyes may help you see things a little clearer.” He seemed to hesitate. “I don’t want to step on your toes, here. I really do want to stop the killings. So, let me help you.”  
You looked up at him. He ran a hand on the back of his neck. Hesitating on letting you in the investigation.  He looked around you, the crowd at the edge of the crime scenes, the journalist looking for sensational news. Clearly, he was at a loss. He needed to provide answers to the victims’ family.  
The killing spree had started a few days ago. It was pretty gruesome. Dead bodies had been found recently; their hearts had been ripped out. For you, it was quite an easy hunt. It was clearly werewolves. The deaths started with the full moon, and their hearts were missing.
“What can you tell me about the victim?”
“Young woman, early twenties,” He cleared his throat. He started to lead you toward the victim, where the Medical Examiner was getting a look at the victim. “She was found by a couple of joggers.”
You raised a skeptical eyebrow to him. “People jog in this area?”
“Yeah, there’s a short trail that go into the woods for a few miles, before it cuts back into the park over there.” He gestured over your shoulder.
You looked over your shoulders briefly, and did a double take when you recognized a couple of familiar faces. “You have got to be kidding me.” You said under your breath.
“What was that?” Officer Davis asked you.
“It seems there was a mix up at the bureau.” You smiled tightly at Davis. “Anyway—” You turned to the M.E. “Anything you can tell me on the cause of death?”
The M.E. looked to the leading officer for approval. The latter nodded at her. “Same as the others.” She said, moving the head of the young woman to the side. “No apparent defensive wounds, she was hit over the head. Same spot as the others,” her hands left her head and went to victim’s wrists. “Ligature marks, and of course her heart’s missing.”
It looked like a werewolf kill alright. Although, the ligatures marks did not make much sense to you. Neither did the head trauma. Werewolves were pretty strong creatures and this seemed to indicate that they needed to restrain the victim before the kill, but why?
You turned around to see Dean and Sam Winchester were walking up to you. You excused yourself and met the brothers halfway. Dean looked a little peeved by your presence there. You approached them under his glare. You really did not get why he was mad about you being there. And you didn’t care.
“Winchesters, we meet again.” You said as a form of greeting.
Sam smiled down at you. “It’s good to see you.” Dean scoffed at that.
“Not everybody agrees.” Your eyes drifted to Dean briefly before you returned your attention on Sam.
“You’re not working the case.” Dean said and you glanced up at him confused.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re not working the case.” Dean then gestured between him and Sam. “We are.”
You scoffed in disbelief. “I already have an in with the officers. I got this under control. You can sit this one out. You do look like you need some rest, you look tired.” You patted his shoulder; and he recoiled from your touch.
“I don’t need rest.” He pointed an angry finger under your nose. “And really?!” Dean’s eyebrows went up into his hairline. “You got this under control?”
“Yeah, I do.” You nodded.
“So, you have it all figured out already?” Dean questioned, clearly hostile.
“I mean, yeah.” You shrugged. “Dead bodies, heart’s missing. I’d say—werewolves.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“And you do?”
“How can you be so sure it’s werewolves?” He questioned.
“Because it makes sense.” You argued back. “What else could it be?”
“Skinwalker.” He shrugged smugly.
“Please.” You scoffed. “You’re just pulling something out of your ass.”
“Dean’s right.” Sam sighed. “It could be a skinwalker. We don’t know that for sure.”
“We do.” You retorted. “It’s a full moon.”
“It won’t matter if it’s a skinwalker.” Dean shook his head.
“Alright.” You snapped at him. “I’ll take that in consideration. Thank you for your help. Go home.”
You turned away from Dean and stomped to your car. You were angry with him, now. He was talking to you as though you didn’t know how to do your job.
Dean grabbed your arm, stopping you on your way to your car. “Listen, kid—“ You looked between him and the grip he had on your arm. “You could barely handle a vampire hunt on your own and now you want to take on werewolves?” You ripped your arm out of his grip. “You should really leave this one to us.”
“First, not a kid. Never was.” You replied. “Second, I called for help because I had never hunted vampires before.” You walked closer to him and jabbed a finger in his chest. “I know how to handle myself on a hunt. Not that’s any of your business, Winchester. I don’t need you or your brother, I can take care of this.”
You turned around and ripped the door to the driver’s seat open, before slamming it shut. And peeled out of there. How dared he? He treated you as though you were an amateur. This wasn’t your first rodeo; you knew how to hunt. You weren't new to this job. You should have reminded him that you saved his life on this vampire hunt. Had he forgotten?
You couldn’t care less if he stayed in town or if he left. You would just proceed with the hunt. Whether it was a werewolf or Skinwalker; as they suggested; you’d kill it and be out of town. After all, it was an easy enough hunt.
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As you’d soon find out, they, in fact, did not leave town. You crossed path with them at the diner. You sent a glare Dean’s way as you walked up to one of the empty booths. You were determined to ignore Dean Winchester and his brother. You were determined to show them that you could handle yourself, and take care of it all on your own.
You didn’t need them. You had never needed anyone.
You sat alone in your booth and ate your lunch while reviewing the victims’ files. They all had been found by the trail near the small wooded area. Heart’s missing, ligatures marks, slight head trauma. The heart being ripped out, indicated a werewolf kill but the ligatures marks and the head trauma suggested something different. You didn’t understand why they were there. Why did they tie up the victims?
There was only one way to find out but you did not like it. You had an aversion for the wooded areas by night. More than anything. However you were a hunter and sometimes, you had to do what you had to do. So, you traded your FBI pantsuit for dark jeans that hugged your large hips and thick thighs perfectly. You traded your dress shirt for a tie-dye crop top that showed a sliver of your skin, and the stretchmarks that peeked out of your waistband. Scars that you had gained over the years as your body changed. It had grown and suffered. It wasn’t slim or thin, it was curvy and big. You had large hips, thick and plushy thighs, a large breast. You loved your body and you had learned to flaunt it.
Flaunting your assets was not what you were going to do tonight. Anyone who knew you, would tell you it was the worst idea you’d ever had. Especially knowing your aversion for the woods at night time. Garth would advise you to ask the Winchesters, since they were in town, to accompany you. And in retrospect, you probably should have. But he didn’t need to know about that.
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“Son of a gun!” You breathed out shakily. You tightened your dark green flannel and your thick jacket around your torso.
You were too stubborn to ask for help when you should. But asking for help was like admitting weakness. And you refused to appear weak in front of Dean Winchester. He already thought you were incapable. You didn’t want him to think of you as weak. You were not going to give him the satisfaction.
Your fingers were tight around your lamp torch. Your heart beating wildly beneath your ribcage. Every breath you took was shaky. Everything in you was screaming at you to run. To go to safety. But you were a hunter. You needed to put an end to the killings. You needed to take care of the werewolf. Or the skinwalker.
Crunch. You froze. Crunch. You pulled out your gun. Crunch. A snort. You knew it wasn’t human. You took another shaky breath. A failed attempt to steady yourself. Your feet remained rooted to the ground. As the sounds were coming closer to your position. You needed to move. And fast.
When your body finally obeyed your brain, it was already too late. You had barely moved when the beast pounced on you. You let out a scream as you landed on your back. The wind got knocked out of you. Your gun flew away from you.
There you were, defenseless. And alone.
Yellow eyes staring into yours. Bared fangs as it snarled at you. Its breath was hot on your face. You did not wish to die here. Alone. Away from your family. This seemed much too familiar to you. A feeling of déjà-vu. You hated it. You hated the woods. You hated that monster breathing down on your face.
A shot rang. Its head snapped up to the sound. Two tall figures were rushing to your aid. You could have sobbed with relief at seeing them. But you weren’t out of the woods yet. No pun intended.  
Its snarled at them. They fired their guns again.  The creature fled as fast as they could. Sam rushed to your aid while Dean pursued the monster.
“Hey,” He helped you up. “You okay?”
You nodded quickly. You were still shaken up. This was too close. You could have died tonight. All of that because you weren’t prepared. Because you wanted to prove something. You screwed up. You clenched your fists repeatedly. You just wanted for your hands to stop shaking. If they could only stop shaking.
“What the hell do you think you were doing?” Dean snapped at you, once he came back.
“What?”
“We were tracking it down and now it’s gone.” He continued. “You screwed it all up.”
“Dean.” Sam put a hand on his brother’s chest.
“Excuse you!” You snapped back at him. “I screwed up? I was being attacked.”
“Yeah, and whose fault is that?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you don’t know what you’re doing, princess.” Dean stepped closer to you, glaring down at you. “I don’t know how you survived this long on your own, but it won’t last much longer if you keep pulling stupid stunts like that. Leave this to us before you get yourself killed.”
What he said wasn’t untrue. You could have gotten yourself killed tonight. It was reckless to go in before truly knowing what was behind the attacks. Although, that was unfair of him to say. You didn’t set out to be attacked or get yourself killed. You were only trying to do your job. You were a hunter and this was what hunters do. This was what they were doing. So, why was it okay for them to do but not for you?
No one believed in you. No matter how hard you tried they still thought you were uncapable. You had met hunters like him before. Doubting you and your skills. You were too soft, they said. You scared too easy, they said. However, you had proven to them that you knew what you were doing. You had proven to them that you got the job done.
You glared back at him. “Like you care.” You wanted to sound harsh, angry. You wanted him to know that you won’t let him get to you. But that wasn’t how it sounded coming out of your mouth.
You sounded tired and defeated. No one would care if you did die. Not the Winchesters. Not even your own family. Those words had always been floating in your brain for years. After all, you had done so many things for so many people. So many things that went unnoticed. Of course, if you were to disappear. No one would notice the difference. They didn’t need you. Not as much as you needed them. You felt the tears pressed against your eyes.
You would not give him the satisfaction to see you cry, on top of everything else. So, you turned around and walked away from the Winchesters. You heard Sam called you but you ignored him.
You needed to get away from the woods. You needed to get away from Dean.
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pizzagirlxnsfwx · 3 months
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As a big big Supernatural fan, I love finding new fics that make me feel all tingly or sad or just make me ‘feel’ in general AND YOU KNOW WHAT? THESE AMAZING WRITERS DESERVE AN HONOURABLE MENTION❤️❤️
@zepskies @hintsofhoney @negans-lucille-tblr @makeadealwithdean @octoberclidan @impala-dreamer @queen-of-deans-booty @writethelifeyouwant
@kaleldobrev @luci-in-trenchcoats so sorry I forgot to tag you guys!
I love your content a lottttt so keep writing babes! All the best to y’all and THANK YOU very much for constantly giving us so many great stories to read💯🥳
Add any of your favourite fic writers below. Let’s start a thread to appreciate these amazing humans!🥹We love you❤️🥰
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thebiggerbear · 9 months
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The Ghosts Are Coming For You Chapter 1 - Beau Arlen x Reader
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Pairing: Beau x Female!Reader; Beau x Female!Detective!Reader
A/N: This is my first foray into the character x reader side of writing. I hope it's okay and you guys like it.
To my lovely beta Em, you rock girl!
Disclaimer: Let me just say up front, I have never worked in law enforcement so I tried to piece together things I’ve seen and heard in true crime documentaries and podcasts alongside with movies/tv and books. I apologize for any inconsistencies, incorrect information, exaggerations, or complete fallacies. Also, this story is going to take place over a few months. Some things might be delayed or appear illogical to not have been thought of before they take place in the timeline, but it’s purely for story purposes.
Tl;dr: I made shit up.
Warnings: death, graphic descriptions of murder, mention of past sexual assaults, mention of dead body, discussion of dead bodies
Word Count: 7065
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Series Masterlist
Series Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @superrey; @fromcaintodean; @stoneyggirl2; @lacilou; @zepskies; @perpetualabsurdity; @deansbbyx; @syrma-sensei; @globetrotter28; @roseblue373; @angelbabyyy99; @hobby27
Beau Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @birdiellie; @illicithallways; @muhahaha303
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“Got it, Cap. We’re on our way.” 
You made your way over to your partner, Jack Darcy, with your brows raised in question as you handed him his coffee. “New case?”
He gave you an appreciative smile. “Yep. Body found on a property over on Missoula. Cap said we need to get our asses over there asap.”
“Okay,” you sighed, opening the passenger door. 
Once you and Jack were settled inside the car, he turned a smirk on you after pulling away from the curb. “What’s wrong, Y/L/N? Getting tired of Homicide already?”
You shrugged half-heartedly, keeping your eyes on the road. “Just another day, another body.”
“You’ve only been working this beat for four months. It can’t be that bad.”
It was that bad. Transferring to Montana from New York, you prepared yourself for small city life, thinking things would slow down since the local population you’d be protecting and serving had drastically reduced from over a million to thousands. Boy, had you been wrong. 
“Four months and five years,” you corrected. You’d worked your way up to Homicide in Manhattan but once you got there, as good as you were at it, it wasn’t where you wanted to stay. Hence the transfer to Big Sky Country. You had heard Montana was beautiful and not as chaotically complicated as the Big Apple. So far, only one of those things had proven to be true. Something you thought about as you stared out the window at the clear blue sky.
“Yeah, but, you have to admit, things aren’t as crazy here. We’re lucky to get, what, maybe three cases a week?” 
“That’s three too many,” you muttered. In the reflection of your window, you saw Jack roll his eyes but he stayed quiet. In the short time you’d been partnered, he already knew to leave things be when you’d get in this type of mood, which seemed to happen every time you got a new case lately.
The truth was that you were tired — tired of the bodies piling up, tired of the horrors you saw that people could inflict on one another. Not to mention you couldn’t even begin to count how many unsolved homicide cases there were, active and cold. Once you landed here, you noticed the differences right away between your former precinct and your new one, resources and budgets being two of them. Your unit was smaller than your previous one and the bureaucratic bullshit that existed everywhere no matter the location in the country was even different in its own ways. You told yourself that you were making a difference, just like you had back in New York, but lately, that mantra wasn’t cutting it. Unbeknownst to Jack or anyone else in the squad, you were starting to wonder if maybe you should pursue a different path in law enforcement, transfer to a different department. Just like your former partner had urged you to do back when he left. Though, what that could be and if it was even possible, you had no idea, but you were thinking about it.
You opened your window slightly, feeling the crisp air hitting you, and it encouraged you to take a deep breath, ignoring the fact that you were barreling towards yet another murder scene, yet another poor soul that had met with a foul end at someone else’s hand. 
Jack listed off the details he had been told so far about the case that had been dropped in your laps, making your eyes close in pain and had you grabbing at your necklace under your shirt. Memories flashed through your mind of a crying family, a picture of a smiling young girl in her high school graduation cap and gown with her proudly holding up her diploma, and a sinister smile from an older man in an interrogation room as his eyes hungrily roved over pictures of the crime scene he was accused of creating. You shook your head to clear your mind and took another deep breath of the Montana air in order to assist in dispeling the thoughts, helping you keep your feet in the present you found yourself in and serving as a reminder to leave the past behind as you had promised yourself you would when you moved out here.
As horrible as this new case sounded, you hoped it wouldn’t be connected to the string of murders you and Jack had been investigating since your arrival. 
And almost as if your partner had heard your thoughts, he spoke it into existence. “It might not be connected,” he said hopefully, echoing your own wish. “It might be a standalone. Some random.” 
“Could be,” you agreed. “But you know as well as I do that it already sounds like the same MO.”
Jack thought over that for a moment. “We won’t know for sure until we get there and take a look around,” he reminded you. He didn’t want it to be connected anymore than you did.
You nodded and decided to leave it for now, knowing he was right. You needed to get there and start your own investigation; that was the only way to know for certain if this victim would be added to the already sizable file you had sitting on your desk back at the station. 
As Jack sped you both towards the scene, you offered up a silent prayer to whoever was listening that you wouldn’t need to add this person’s name to your growing list, and that you’d find whoever was responsible. While you were at it, you also prayed for the one thing you asked every single day: for people to stop hurting one another. It might be an impossible thought when there were 8 billion people running around the planet but you still asked nonetheless. If it was answered, you’d be out of a job, yet you would never be so happy to have to look for a new line of work. However, until that prayer was answered or until you made the decision to move on from Homicide, you’d still continue to work the cases and do your best to find answers as well as justice for the victims alongside the loved ones left behind to suffer.
Gripping the pendant on your necklace, you took another deep breath and put your game face on when Jack pulled up to the scene swarming with Helena PD officers and yellow crime scene tape, bordered by curious neighbors and local media. The white sheet instantly caught your eye and you turned to Jack, both of you exchanging a nod before getting out of the car to make your way towards the newest crime scene of your case files list.
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You were still inspecting the body when you heard Jack mutter, “Aw, hell.” You glanced up, furrowing your brows in question. He inclined his head towards a Bronco that had just pulled up to the scene.
You turned to see a blonde woman and a man with a Stetson on his head exit the vehicle. The glint of a badge caught your eye from the man’s belt when he moved to close the door. Both he and the woman started glancing around, walking up to one of the officers standing sentry at the surrounding crime scene tape and speaking with him. You exchanged a glance with Jack before returning your attention to the body. “Deputies from the Sheriff’s Department?”
Your precinct had clashed with them before, though clashed was a bit of a strong word. Compared to Manhattan, the two departments played better together in their joint sandbox; still, that didn’t mean there wasn’t the occasional pissing match, especially when there was a possibility of jurisdictions overlapping. You had heard all about it from your coworkers but it rarely ever happened when you and Jack caught a case.
“The sheriff,” Jack clarified, making you gape up at him in surprise before turning to look over the man with the hat and beard again with a more discerning eye. 
“He’s…young.” He was definitely not what you expected, and you were even more surprised that he hadn’t driven himself to the scene, idly wondering if his department vehicle was possibly in the shop.
“Youngest they’ve ever had I’ve heard, and a transplant from Texas, too. One of the good ol’ boys.” So, this was the sheriff you’d heard so much about. Who was the blonde then? You watched as the officer the two had been speaking to held up the tape and let them through. 
And as if he could read your mind, Jack then added, inclining his head in the blonde’s direction, “That’s his undersheriff, Jenny Hoyt.” You recognized the name. You’d heard of her as well. A bit of a wildcard, that one, and she didn’t play too well with others at times. “She’s a local. Rumor also has it that she gets plenty under the sheriff.” You glared over at your partner. He laughed and threw his hands up. “Hey, I’m just saying that’s the rumor.”
Rolling your eyes, you went back to your job. You were studying the shallow scrapes on the back of the woman’s wrist when you heard Jack snapping his gloves off and saw him get up out of the corner of your eye.
“Sheriff,” he greeted. “Jack Darcy, Homicide.”
 The man gave him a nod. “Beau Arlen. So, what do we have here?” You could hear the twang coming through. He was from Texas alright.
“37 year old female victim, yet to be identified. Homeowner found her this morning when he was letting his dog out, called us right away.”
“Coroner get a look at her yet?”
“He’s en route. Detective Y/L/N and I are doing the initial workup, we’ll let him take over when he gets here. You know the drill.”
“Oh, I do.”
“Do we have any idea on motive?” Through your peripherals, you saw the undersheriff take off her sunglasses and hold out her hand for gloves. An officer handed her a pair and you could hear the tell-tale snapping.
“None yet. Appears to be a brutal stabbing and her throat was cut. Attack could have happened overnight, while she was walking or waiting for a ride, we’re not sure yet. It’s really too early to tell on motive, but don’t worry, Sheriff, we got it from here.” Jack was giving them just enough info to address what they were seeing while also politely shooing them away. You were grateful for it. You weren’t done examining the body or the scene just yet. 
The sheriff chuckled good-naturedly. “I’m sure you do. We heard the call and we were in the area, so we figured we’d drop by and see if you city boys needed any help.”
You bit your lip to keep the wiseass remark you wanted to make from slipping out of your mouth. Jack was right; he sounded like one of the good ol’ boys. He probably meant well but damn did it irritate you when you heard remarks like that, especially when you were mid-investigation onsite. Neither you nor Jack had time for this. Nevertheless, you swallowed down the retort and instead focused on the scene. You had only been here for four months so you were still new, and if you wanted to make a leap somewhere down the line, you needed to play nice and not cause any waves.
In the corner of your vision, Hoyt had bent down on the opposite side of the body, her fingers inspecting the woman’s neck where the more severe gashes were. “Any initial impression on the actual cause of death?”
Okay, fuck playing nice. You weren’t territorial or easily bothered, but other than Jack, you didn’t remember asking for another partner. Any other case you’d have just rolled your eyes and sat back while she did her own workup, entertained at her thinking she would know better than yours or Jack’s experience in homicide, but not today and definitely not this case. “Well, I’m no M.E. but I’d say the huge knife wound to the heart along with the throat slash are pretty good bets for being the culprit. Though we’d have to rule out strangulation based on the ligature marks on her neck, you know, just to be safe.” 
“Strangulation, too? That’s overkill,” Hoyt murmured, clearly not picking up on your sarcasm. 
“Hence homicide.” You ignored her glare and went back to doing your job. Jack chuckled under his breath at your smartassery.
“Well, we’ll just get out of your way and let you continue playing Coroner then.”
You shrugged, not caring in the least about her attitude. “That’d be great, thanks.” The sooner she cleared out and let you finish doing your job, the better.
She scoffed. “There’s no need to be so—”
“Hoyt,” the sheriff warned. “Play nice. Let’s try and remember we’re all on the same team here.”
You couldn’t help but smirk when the sheriff pulled on her leash. Undersheriff or not, how dare she push her way into your crime scene and start questioning you?
Jack spoke up then. “Sheriff Arlen, Hoyt, this is my partner, Detective Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Pleasure,” you ground out, still staring down at the marks on the victim’s neck and the pattern of bruising that was starting to become eerily familiar.
“Likewise,” the sheriff replied. Hoyt stayed silent, her narrowed eyes trained on you.
Jack exchanged glances with the man before clearing his throat. “Anyway, Sheriff, as you can see, we’ve got things well in hand. We appreciate you stopping by, though.”
Beau shot him an amiable smile. “Of course. We’ll get out of your hair. Come on, Hoyt, let’s leave them to it.”
Hoyt never broke her gaze away from you as she got to her feet, snapping off her gloves. You smirked wider, shaking your head in amusement.
Jack’s phone started ringing and he grabbed it. “Sorry, gotta take this.” At Beau waving him off, he immediately picked up the call. “Yeah, Cap? Ah, we’re still going over it but—yeah she’s looking at the body right now. Looks like the attack didn’t happen onsite but she’s confirming that right—.”
“She wasn’t attacked here,” you confirmed for him, never taking your eyes off of the scene in front of you.
“Sorry, Cap, one sec. What was that, Y/L/N?”
You slowly lifted your eyes to his. “She wasn’t killed onsite.” You saw Jack’s shoulders slump slightly and any hope he had held onto when taking Anderson’s call immediately go right out of him. You both already knew as much, the signs of a body dump surrounding the scene, but Jack didn’t want to be the bearer of that news to your captain.
Jack told Captain Anderson he’d call him right back and promptly hung up. “You’re sure?” He asked, sounding deflated.
You gave him a nod, glancing at him somewhat sympathetically. “Positive.”
Your partner sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Shit.”
“What makes you so sure?” Hoyt questioned, her arms crossed and scowl trained on you.
So begins the pissing match. Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you pointed to the body. “What’s the one thing missing from this scene that should be everywhere?” 
Both the blonde and the sheriff quickly scanned the area. “Blood,” the man answered.
“Blood,” you confirmed. “There are no footprints or drag marks around the body. No ID, barefoot, clothes are slightly torn and oversaturated with blood but otherwise holding up well, blood and mud-stained soles of her feet on a well manicured lawn after a dry evening with no blood drops or trails anywhere, decomp is more advanced than it should be if she died last night…she was dumped here.” You then pointed to the shallow cuts you found near the victim’s hands and wrists. “And she fought like hell.” You let your eyes linger on the victim for a moment, shaking your head sadly, and got up with a sigh. “She was tortured for a while before she was killed.” 
“But why dump the body here? On some random person’s lawn in the middle of the city where the killer could have easily been seen or caught on camera? Why not leave her somewhere she’d never be found, where they wouldn’t have to risk themselves being seen?” 
Your gaze moved over to Jack, both of you already knowing the answer to all of that, and he heaved his own heavy sigh.
“To send a message,” he answered. 
“A message? To whom?” Hoyt asked. 
Your eyes never leaving Jack’s, you snapped your gloves off, both of you opting not to share anything outside of the department. If Hoyt wanted answers, she could call Anderson and he could field that one. “That’s what we’re going to try to find out. Darcy, let’s start sifting through missing person reports from the last few days to see if any match her description.”
“She could have been held longer than that,” Hoyt piped in.
You turned a glare on her. “No, she couldn’t have.” What was with this blonde? Her boss who outranked her already told her to leave it alone. So why couldn’t she just leave you to your crime scene that you clearly knew more about than she did and just be gone already? One glance at the sheriff studying the two of you intently answered that for you. She was trying to show you up in front of him or show off for him, you weren’t quite sure which. 
“What makes you so sure?” Hoyt was outright smirking at you now, content in her attempt to ruffle your feathers. 
“As I said, the clothes are in excellent condition despite being soiled and there’s also the state of decomposition of the body. Had she been held longer than the time frame I just mentioned and say, killed yesterday, the state of the clothes would be much worse and they would have started deteriorating sooner. Not to mention her pedicure was not that old. Cuticles are pressed and intact.”
“She could have touched it up herself before she was taken. Or gotten it done right before.”
“Hoyt.” Beau gave her a look when she turned her smirk on him. “Let it go. They’ve got it.”
“That’s alright.” You took a step closer, staring down Hoyt and smirking right back. “Undersheriff Hoyt, if you would like to take over the investigation, by all means.” You waved a hand at the scene in front of you, ignoring Jack’s wide eyes and the motions he made with his hand to get you to rescind that offer. “If you’d like, I can make sure the State is made aware that you are now heading this case.”
“Wait, State’s involved?” The sheriff asked in surprise that then turned dubious.
“They are,” you answered before Jack could, never looking away from the blonde.
“Already?” Hoyt asked, suspicion clear as day on her face.
“Already,” you confirmed, no hesitation. “So shall I call them and tell them that this is now your case?”
Hoyt’s smirk had dropped long ago and the scowl was back in place. She considered you for a moment and then stuck her nose up in the air, downright glaring at you. But she didn’t say a word.
The sheriff took note of yours and Hoyt’s standoff as well as Jack’s anxious expression, then cleared his throat. “Like I said before, we’ll leave you to it.”
You nodded curtly, more than satisfied at the turn of events, and glanced back at Jack. “Call Anderson and update him. We’re looking at another one.”
He gave you a somber nod and moved away to do just that.
You couldn’t resist turning back to Hoyt with a syrupy sweet smile. “Like I said before, a pleasure.” Your smile faded and your eyes burned into hers as you spun on your heel to walk away, knowing that was the end of that little dick measuring contest and who had won. As entertaining as it had all been, you had work to do.
“Hold up a sec,” the man next to her called out.
You took a deep breath and turned, seeing Hoyt and Sheriff Arlen exchanging a glance. The latter locked eyes with you and put his hands on his hips. “You said it was another one. Just how many victims have you had show up with this MO?”
Hoyt arched her brows expectantly at you, waiting for you to answer.
“I’m not at liberty to discuss any ongoing investigations in the Helena Police Department. If you have any questions, you can direct them to my captain. Jack can give you the number.” You then walked away, heading back to the car, more than eager to take a minute for yourself and collect your thoughts under the guise of needing to make a call. You couldn’t believe you and Jack had yet another victim on your hands this soon. The guy you were after didn’t appear to be slowing down at all; if anything, he was picking up his pace, and that worried you. 
It shouldn’t have surprised you when the sheriff was suddenly next to you, matching your stride. “Bureaucratic bullshit aside, I need to know, are we dealing with something nasty here?”
“Nastier than someone brutally torturing and killing another person, then dumping the body somewhere she’s sure to be found so another person can be terrorized?”
“Good point. But you know what I mean. I saw you and Dorsey back there, I know there’s something you’re not saying. Are we talking about a serial killer or something else?” He shook his head when you didn’t answer him. “Come on, Detective Y/L/N, tell me what we’re dealing with here.”
You let out a breath and stopped in your tracks, turning to face him. “It’s Darcy. And we are not talking about anything or dealing with anything together. As I said, if you have any questions, you can direct them to—”
“Your Captain, yeah, I got it.” He took a deep breath and his hands were back on his belt, green eyes pleading with you though there was a sharp edge to them. “Listen, if there’s something serious going on in my county, I need to know about it. If the shoe was on the other foot, we’d give you the professional courtesy, you know that.” You had to admit that he had a point, though you weren’t exactly sure how he didn’t already know about the growing threat, from local media coverage to small town folks talking. You may have oversold State’s involvement earlier to get Hoyt off of your backs so you could continue to do your jobs without further interference, but nothing could be further from the truth. Captain Anderson as well as the Chief were doing everything they could to keep things tight and close to the vest. A serial killer on the loose in this area wasn’t exactly unheard of; there had been the Bleeding Heart killer that evaded capture for years until recently. However, your bosses were under the strict impression that people didn’t need to worry about another potential problem, possibly breaking through the front doors of their homes, or abducting and killing their neighbors quite so soon. It would look like they couldn’t get a handle on their city, people would be too scared to leave their homes, people would stop coming through here, and Helena would become known as a haven for serial killers. At least that’s all of the bullshit reasoning you’d heard so far.
You personally disagreed with it all; you had learned first hand back in New York how valuable it could be to the investigation to keep the local population on alert, and how it might help reduce the number of victims. It could even provide a break in the case. Out here, in a close knit community such as this one, well, public awareness was not always viewed the same way hence all the bullshit justifications in keeping it quiet. At least as far as you had seen with this particular string of murders, anyway.
But even with your bosses working hard to keep a lid on things, how had this sheriff or his department not somehow become aware of what was going on right under their very noses?
Your gaze flickered back to the scene, seeing Jack talking with Hoyt, most likely in the same position you were in since the sheriff duo obviously decided to try to divide and conquer, before it landed back on the man in front of you. Seeing the concern layering his brow, his expression determined, you decided the hell with it. You’d made the case to Anderson more than once for things to go public, to lean on State more, to compare notes with other law enforcement such as the Sheriff’s Department to see if there were any other patterns or victims you were unaware of, missing or dead, or maybe even reported attempts at abduction or someone seeing something strange that could help turn the tide. Yet each time, you’d been denied and politely warned to keep your mouth shut, your head down, and to focus on your job. Well, you were already thinking of a change; what could it hurt to let this earnest looking sheriff know what was really going on? Perhaps he’d even do something with the limited information you could give him and jurisdiction squabbles aside, would it really be so bad to have another pair of eyes on the lookout for the same things you were? You didn’t think so. “Bureaucratic bullshit aside, nothing has been officially determined yet. For this case or..any others.”
His eyes tightened. “How many are we looking at so far?”
You bit your lip and turned to look at the officers surrounding the area. “Five.”
“And she’s the sixth?”
“If it’s determined that this fits that MO, then yes.”
“Based on your previous cases, does it?”
You gave him a look, staying silent. He knew you couldn’t answer that outright.
The sheriff let out a sigh and dropped his gaze to the ground. “Span of time?”
“Four in the last four months.” His head snapped up, his mouth hanging open. “That’s since I’ve been here. One was found right before I showed up.” 
He nodded and glanced back towards the scene. “Goddamn,” he said under his breath. After a moment, he turned back to you. His features started to relax slightly and the beginning of a smile began to form on his lips. “So, that’s why I haven’t seen you around before. I was wondering. Four months, huh? How’re you liking it so far?”
You glanced back in the direction of the body. “Seriously considering a change of address,” you muttered. “Maybe something tropical. People seem happier near beaches. I’m thinking it’s gotta be the sand, bikinis, and free-flowing booze. That or people are just too exhausted from being in the sun all day. I think that’d suit me just fine.”
A warm laugh escaped him as his bright smile graced you, reaching up to his eyes this time. It made you nearly smile in response, it was that infectious. He was certainly attractive and he had the whole sexy cowboy sheriff vibe working for him, complete with hat. For a split second, you wondered what could have happened had you met him at one of the local bars some night where your introduction to one another would have been vastly different. You tried to picture yourself line dancing at some country bar he might frequent but couldn’t. You’d tried it once but never really cared for it. You were more of a swayer and every so often (with a certain amount of liquid courage or lust coursing through your veins) a grinder. Instead, you might have grabbed his hat off of his head to get his attention and plopped it on yours, uttering the cheesy line of “Save a horse, ride a cowboy” or something to keep his focus squarely on you for the rest of the night. Before you could get too carried away in your thoughts, seeing an officer moving past you reminded you of why you were here. You needed to concentrate and get your head back into the game.     
“Oh, come on,” he urged, thankfully completely oblivious to what you had been thinking. “It’s only been four months! It took me at least six to settle in when I moved up here. You’ve got to give it at least that. I do copy you on the beaches thing, though. Definitely a slower pace.”
“Right? Though it’s gotta be a real pain in the ass to collect evidence in between tourists and the saltwater. You know what? Maybe I should just change careers. I’ll become a lifeguard. Bring some Baywatch to the Bahamas.” Oh no, that sounded flirty, hadn’t it? You hadn’t meant for it to sound flirty. 
His eyes lit up slightly but his amiable smile stayed the same. “I have no doubt in my mind you could.”
You nearly smirked but forced yourself to look disappointed. “But then again, there are sharks in the Bahamas, so maybe my Baywatch lifeguard audition will have to wait until, say, never.”
“Well, that’s a crying shame. Just when I thought I’d finally make the plane ride to the Bahamas.” His voice had dipped in register and his gaze burned into you, making you almost shiver. It was very obvious what he was thinking and you were thankful you were surrounded by several officers, your partner included, because there was no telling what you’d do if it was just the two of you and he looked at you like that. You had a very good idea of what he’d do and you found that you didn’t mind all that much, if you two weren’t on the job and he wasn’t already involved with someone else.
You forced yourself to focus, holding a hand up. “Alright, slow your roll there, Hasselhoff. You want to swim with the sharks, you go right ahead. Me? I’m staying on dry land, thank you very much.” He laughed again and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms, thankful that you had been able to change the course of that conversation. “So, six months, huh? From Texas I take it?”
His smile got brighter if that were even possible. “The accent that obvious?”
“The accent, the hat, the whole cowboy vibe you’ve got going on.” You gestured to him with a hand.
“You got something against cowboys?” He teased.
“Nope. It’s just that we don’t see too many of those in the Big Apple.”
“New York, huh? Should’ve known. You’ve got the whole SVU vibe working for you.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again. Like you hadn’t heard that one before. “Not every female detective from Manhattan is named Olivia Benson and not all of us work out of SVU.”
He held his hands up, still smiling. “I didn’t mean anything by it, darlin’.” At your raised brows, he chuckled. “Just a friendly term where I come from. I didn’t mean anything by that either.”
“Uh huh.” You spun on your heel and continued your trek to the car, nodding your thanks at the officer who lifted the crime scene tape for you to pass under. The sheriff continued to dog your steps which made you smile discreetly. 
“So, tell me, how do people on that tiny island live all squished together like that?” He wondered.
“I don’t know, one and a half million people somehow manage to figure it out every day.”
“One and a half million? Son of a bitch.” You had just reached the vehicle when he turned to you. “Who am I kidding? I come from Houston and we have even more people there. Except we’re spread out and have more room to roam.” He chuckled, expecting you to find that as funny as he did. 
You gave him a polite smile and opened your door, waiting. “Was there anything else you needed, Sheriff?”
“Please, call me Beau. And yeah, there was one more thing.” You arched a brow up at him and his grin melted into a different smile altogether, making something flip inside your stomach. Uh oh. You were back in that murky territory from a moment ago. “I was wondering if you’d let me take you to dinner.”
Your gaze snapped to where Jack was currently talking on his phone. Hoyt wasn’t too far from him, watching your every move, you swung your head back to find the sheriff staring at you expectantly, the same smile from before sitting on his bearded face. You decided not to beat around the bush. “I was under the impression that you were…otherwise engaged.” 
His brows began to furrow in confusion. “How do you mean?”
You inclined your head back in Hoyt’s direction. He quickly glanced over and then back to you. “What, Hoyt? No, we’re just partners. She’s my undersheriff and a friend, nothing more.” You shot him a look and he laughed. “I’m serious, there’s nothing going on. I’m free as a bird. So, how about that date?”
You bit your lip in thought, trying to think of the best way to politely turn him down. You really, really wanted to accept, to see where this might go, even if it was just a one time thing, but the way Hoyt was eyeing him and you right now, there was bound to be trouble there, even if it was only a simple dinner between you and the cowboy. Which, as Beau had said before, was a crying shame. He seemed nice enough but you really couldn’t afford to make waves, not if you planned to secure another transfer after such a short stint up here. You would have to politely decline his invitation. “I’m probably going to be working late, especially with this new case. Thank you for the offer, though.”
He tilted his head, smiling wider at you. “Come on, you gotta eat sometime. Besides, what kind of sheriff would I be if I didn’t show a newcomer such as yourself some of the great things Helena has to offer? Like the steakhouse I’d like to take you to. They have the best ribeye in the whole county, hand to God.”
You could see that he expected that to do the trick. So, you turned the tables on him. You closed the door and crossed your arms. “Texas, didn’t you already pump me for information about this case? I gave you what I could. There’s nothing else I can give you.”
His eyes flashed at your last statement. Uh oh. “I doubt that’s true but be that as it may, I’m not asking you to dinner to talk about work. As a matter of fact, I have a strict policy during dinner: no work-talk. So, what do you say, darlin’? Let me take you out?”
You glared up at him. “Will you drop the darlin’?”
“If you really want me to,” he agreed.
“I really want you to.”
“Consider it done. May I call you by your first name then?”
“I’d prefer it to darlin’.”
“Alright. Y/N. Now that we’ve got that settled, I’ll pick you up at your place, say around…7?”
Shit, were you really going to do this? You could not afford to make waves. There wasn’t really anything stopping you. You two worked for different departments, precincts even. He wasn’t your superior and while he outranked you, you weren’t working with him. He had addressed the Hoyt issue head on, assuring you they weren’t involved. You two were grown adults, able to just have a nice meal together. Besides, you hadn’t had a good steak in a while and what could it hurt? Although, you couldn’t have him come to your house because you were pretty sure you’d never make it past the porch, not with the way he had been eyeing you up earlier, not with how often your thoughts headed in that direction.
You noticed him lick his lips as he waited for your answer. It easily could have been a nervous tic, thinking you’d might turn him down, but your brain zoned in on the action. His smile was warm, infectious, and you hadn’t terribly minded your little banter before. You could probably have a somewhat decent time and get along fairly well. Before you knew it, you were agreeing to let him take you to dinner. “Make it 7:30, outside the precinct. I’ll be done around then.”
When he grinned happily, you felt that same flip-type feeling from earlier. Maybe dinner with someone other than Jack and something other than takeout on the fly wouldn’t be so bad. It’s not like you were promising the man anything other than a meal filled with conversation. And he had been right, you could eat, though you’d never admit it to him. It’s not like you were jumping right into bed with him…hence why you asked him to pick you up at the precinct.
“7:30 it is. I’ll see you then, Y/N.” He flashed you another smile and turned to walk away.
“See you then, Texas.” 
He tipped his hat in your direction, his eyes taking forever to leave you, and headed back over to the scowling blonde. Figures — the first guy to officially ask you out since your move here would be within the vicinity of a crime scene, not to mention the whole little flirtation moment. That was just your luck, wasn’t it? A part of you even wondered if you were normal for accepting his offer at said scene, not knowing a thing about him or once thinking it odd that he chose this to be his moment after seeing a dead woman who had been stabbed repeatedly by some sick bastard.
You shook your head, unsure of what the hell you had just gotten yourself into, thinking your whole life was a weird mess, so what was one more strange thing? You sat inside the passenger seat of the car, laying your head back against the headrest as thoughts of this case ran through your mind. 
Another one. How the hell was that even possible? There were now six victims with the same MO. Knife to the chest, ending in the heart, after their throat had been slashed but before they completely bled out. And this was after they’d been tortured for hours, days even, where they’d been repeatedly strangled to the point of unconsciousness and then brought back so more horrors and pain could be inflicted on them. It reminded you of a series of homicides you’d worked back in Manhattan, with an eerily similar MO; the difference was that those victims were sexually assaulted, asphyxiated with a plastic bag over their heads repeatedly, and their bodies were dropped off at different anchor points, not some random location where the body was guaranteed to be discovered within a short amount of time and it would put the killer at risk to be easily spotted by passersby or security cameras. Not to mention, you had closed the Manhattan case; the bastard was still sitting in jail — you’d checked.
You slipped your necklace from underneath your shirt and began to move the pendant back and forth as you thought it over some more. The victims here in Montana matched one description: a woman in her mid to late 30’s, usually turned out to be single or at the least casually dating, nothing serious. She always had Y/H/C hair, working hard in her chosen career or job, and she appeared to have been a decent dresser while doing the upkeep required for her fingernails and toenails. That was really what prompted your hunch about the pedicure that you couldn’t tell Hoyt, and let’s face it, wouldn’t tell her unless you were forced to. The territorial blonde had definitely left a bitter taste in your mouth.
But the New York victims had been women of various sizes, races, ages, and stations in life. One was a sex worker, one was a single mom, one was a lawyer from the Upper East side, one had been a late teen fresh out of high school… You closed your eyes in pain, gripping your pendant tightly. That had been one of your toughest cases to date. You didn’t like to think about it but that had been the one to light a fire deep within you to do whatever it took to hunt down the sick bastard who had done that to her. You worked tirelessly with your partner, trying to fit the pieces together, and run down the very little clues you had. In the end, it had all paid off. You made sure you were present that day in court for that son of a bitch’s sentencing.  
You opened your eyes and thought back to your current case. Every detail of this scene fit the details of previous scenes to a tee, minus the location where the body had been dumped. But the why of the dumping seemed to fit into a pattern. Something kept prodding at you, pulling at your instincts. Something was off here. You knew you were dealing with a serial but something kept pushing at you about Manhattan… It had to be the similarities. It was only natural for you to recall your experience when you saw similar MO’s in trying to figure out who was behind the killing and what their motivation was. Yes, that was it. 
You were interrupted in your reverie by your cell phone ringing. You answered it on the first ring. “Yeah?”
“I need you up here,” Jack requested.
“On my way.” You hung up and took a deep breath, slipping your necklace back under your shirt, and stepped out of the car, intent on heading back up to where your partner was. You both needed to figure this out and fast. You knew this woman was about to be added to the list of murder victims that had been the work of a serial you were currently tracking down, and based on how frequently he was doing this, he was only just getting started.
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winchestergirl2 · 2 months
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February Reading Recs
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To show some love and appreciation to all the amazing writers here on tumblr, here are all the fantastic fics I've read this month. 💖
Many of these fics and blogs are 18+ only, and NSFW please heed the author's individual fic warnings and requests regarding no minors. I am not responsible for your media consumption.
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2023 Reading Recs | 2024 Reading Recs
Walker
Cordell Walker
Quieting the Demons Inside @idreamofplaid
Authors Summary: Cordell opens up to the reader, and his vulnerability takes their relationship to the next level.
Privacy @idreamofplaid
Authors Summary: Cordell is a passionate man, but he’s a dad too. It doesn’t mean he has to choose between the two.
Texas Nights @stefanmikaleson1864
Dawsons Creek
CJ Braxton
Something Like This @thebiggerbear
Authors Summary: A Nor'easter hits Boston and luckily for you, you don't have anywhere you need to be except right here snuggled up with CJ.
My Bloody Valentine
Tom Hanniger
Lonely Dancers @mind-empty-just-fictional-people
Authors summary: when your boyfriend cheats on you, it leads you to tom hanniger
10 Inch Hero
Boaz Priestly
Code Red @zepskies
Authors Summary: When you call him for help, Priestly realizes that he finally has the relationship of his dreams.
High School Never Ends Part 1 | Part 2 | @illshakeyouallnightlong-dean
Supernatural
Dean Winchester
Hollow @thoughtslikeaminefield
Authors Summary: @winchesterxfamilybusiness​ submitted this prompt to @cabin-fever-bang​ “Would anyone be willing to write something with Dean [or Jensen] x reader to the song Love on the Brain by Rihanna -xx”
Fire & Rain Masterlist @writercole
Authors Summary: When a fire destroys her place to live, Y/N and her daughter Lana are left with nowhere to go and no one to count on, except the kindness of a beautiful, green-eyed firefighter that saved their lives. Will the pair of them make it through the obstacles life has dealt them or will they crash and burn?
Just Another Day @1000roughdrafts
Authors Summary: Fluffy Dean x female!reader Valentine's Day post
Don't Forget It @hintsofhoney
Authors Summary: While working a case with Dean, he gets jealous of the way you interact with a suspect and decides to remind you who you belong to.
Sam Winchester
You're On Your Own Kid Part 1 @my-proof-is-you
Authors Summary: You’re used to being on your own. You’d been on your own as long as you could remember. Could Sam show you that it isn’t the only way to live?
Untitled Sam Winchester Fic @supernaturalfreewill
Big Sky
Beau Arlen
Febuwhump Day 10 @luci-in-trenchcoats
Febuwhump Day 14 @luci-in-trenchcoats
Febuwhump Day 21 @luci-in-trenchcoats
Whole Lotta Love @deanbrainrotwritings
Authors Summary: beau finds a way repays the reader after taking care of him when he’s injured, but also to apologise for worrying her. but most importantly, to prove he was okay.
The Way We Fall In Love @smellingofpoetry
Authors Summary: This is the story of how they fall in love.
The Boys
Soldier Boy
Febuwhump Day 12 @luci-in-trenchcoats
Side Effects of Soldier Boy @tom-whore-dleston
Authors Summary: Soldier Boy tries to keep you quiet during sex.
Smallville
Jason Teague
Febuwhump Day 7 @luci-in-trenchcoats
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nicksalchemy1 · 26 days
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Mientras Respiro, Espero - Part 1
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Pairing: Firefighter AU Dean Winchester x Nurse!Plus-Size!Mexican!Reader
Summary: Dean Winchester, a firefighter with a reputation for casual flings, finds himself longing for something more meaningful in his life. Meanwhile, you, a stubborn surgical intern, are trying to escape your past in California. When Dean loses a bet and is tasked with cleaning the trucks, your paths cross unexpectedly. Little do both of you know meeting each other would cause some problems.
A/N: “Mientras Respiro, Espero”: Spanish for “while I breathe, I wait.”
Here’s the first part of my little story. I really like writing in this universe and if part goes well, then I’ll continue posting. (I’m gonna post it anyways 🧐) Credits for inspiration again go to @zepskies !!
🚒 Series Masterlist
Word Count: 2,167
Warnings: Toxic parental situation, mentions of fat-shaming, childhood trauma, and a quick old-fashioned meet cute.
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Part 1 - Who’s Afraid Of Little Old Me?
Avalon, California, was a gilded cage with ocean views, where the houses were as polished as the facades people wore. It was in one such manicured home where your story paused.
“Mija, you’re wasting your life with these... these dreams of yours! ¡No seas tan estúpida!” Your mother’s voice was a razor wrapped in velvet, cutting into you as you packed the last of your belongings into an old, battered suitcase.
The room was a mausoleum of your former life, with its pristine walls adorned with academic accolades and a full-length mirror that once reflected a girl desperate to please. Now, it only mirrored your resolve.
“I’m saving it, not wasting it,” you shot back, the words tumbling from your lips like brave soldiers in battle. You tucked a framed photo of your childhood self – the one with the broadest, most hopeful eyes – into the suitcase's side.
Your mother’s silhouette filled the doorway, her arms crossed in the silent indictment. “And what about the family reputation? Our standing in the community?”
You zipped up the suitcase, and the sound of a definitive line drawn. “What about my happiness, Mamí? What about living a life that’s actually mine? With someone who won’t pick on me like I’m still a child?”
She scoffed dismissively, a sound that stung like salt in an open wound. “Esos gringos no saben nada. Happiness is a luxury for those who can afford to be foolish.”
You locked eyes with her in the mirror, your own gaze hardened like forged steel. “Then consider me a fool.”
The house seemed to hold its breath as you shouldered past her, suitcase in hand. Your father stood in the hallway, a silent sentinel. His eyes, a mirror of your own, flickered with something that might have been pride or sorrow – or both.
“Daddy,” you whispered, pausing for a moment.
He cleared his throat, a rumble from deep within. “You always were the stubborn one,” he murmured, his voice barely above a soft-spoken whisper. “Be careful. Call me anytime you need me.”
A nod was all you could muster before you descended the staircase, each step a drumbeat to your newfound freedom. The door closed behind you with a finality that echoed through your bones. The California sun dipped low, as if bowing to your courage.
The suitcase wheels rumbled against the cobblestone path, a small but sure declaration of your departure. Behind you, the house – a beautiful prison of expectation and familial duty – faded into just another part of the landscape.
You didn't look back.
Considering it was your first time flying in an airplane, first class at that, you were anxious. Not about actually being in the plane around people or the way the lady in the seat across from your aisle coffee smelled like someone took a fancy shit, but because you were moving in with a couple that you trusted yet, hardly knew.
Mary and John Winchester were rough around the edges, but they meant well. They knew what happened in your household, how toxic it was, and invited you to stay with them in Lawerence. Plus, you would be able to keep your job. Mary was head of Neurosurgery and earned you a spot as a surgical intern. Working hard or hardly working, am I right? You thought to yourself, smiling to yourself.
And boy, were these ‘gringos’ rich. Not only did they offer you that extra guest room in their house, but they also bought you your first-class seat, in which your butt was in right now.
You knew John was a respected detective, and with his income mixed with Mary’s, they made bank.
You also knew they had two sons. John and Mary mentioned their names, but you knew the youngest worked for the ADA, and the oldest worked as a firefighter.
Cool. Wonder what that's like, you tilt your head in thought.
A stable work life, home life, and family. But not all ‘picture-perfect’ families meant they were truly picture perfect.
And that was for you to figure out.
The airplane descended through the cotton candy clouds, and the world below began to take shape—a patchwork of fields and roads that would soon become your new reality. Your heart danced a nervous tango with the seatbelt across your lap, anticipation tightening with every drop in altitude.
The captain's voice crackled through the cabin, announcing the imminent landing in Lawrence. You straightened up, smoothing the fabric of your jeans as if to iron out the last creases of your past life.
When the wheels kissed the tarmac, you felt a jolt, not unlike the one that had propelled you out of your family’s house. You collected your single suitcase from the overhead bin—a symbol of your fresh start—and made your way through the aisle with a resolve that echoed the click-clack of your boots on the aircraft's floor.
The airport was small but buzzing with life, a hive of reunions and farewells. You stood for a moment at the arrival gate, scanning the crowd until you saw them.
Mary's presence was undeniable. She stood with a grace that spoke of her surgical precision, her eyes warm and welcoming. John, equally imposing in his own right, had the stance of a man who had weathered storms and could chart a course through any adversity.
They spotted you almost immediately, and Mary’s smile widened as she opened her arms. “There she is! Welcome to Kansas!”
You stepped into her embrace, the scent of antiseptic mingling with a soft perfume—a stark contrast to the oppressive aroma of your mother's overwhelming floral scents. “Thank you, Mary,” you smiled, grateful for the genuine warmth.
John extended his hand, which you shook firmly, finding in his grip the silent support of a seasoned detective. “Good to have you here. We’ve got the guest room all set up for you,” he said, his voice a deep timbre of reassurance.
You nodded, your eyes meeting his. “I can’t thank you both enough for this opportunity.”
As you walked through the airport, with Mary’s hand lightly on your back and John carrying your suitcase, you felt the weight of your old life lifting. The conversation was light, peppered with Mary’s questions about your flight and John’s quips about Kansas being the true heart of America.
Once in the car, the grilling starts. “So, how are you doing, hun?” Mary asks curiously, mainly because she’s concerned and trying to make sure you’re comfortable.
“Oh, you know, as good as you can be while moving state from state.” You remark as politely as possible, trying not to seep tension into the car ride.
“I hope you feel better. When we get to the house, you’re welcome to rest. I don’t cook very well,” She clears her throat, shrugging, “But I can give you some money to order something in?”
“I couldn’t do that, but thank you. It’s late, anyways. I’ll wait till tommorow morning.”
“Okay. Just as along as you’re comfortable.” Mary winks, a soft, motherly smile on her face.
You nod, meeting her smile with the same.
John pulls the Volkswagen van into the driveway and puts it in park, shutting the engine off. “Home sweet home.”
You sigh and step out of the car, staring at the home. The house is a two-story structure with a prominent green exterior. It features white trim around the windows and roof edges, contrasting nicely with the green. The front door is wooden with a rich, warm tone. There are two windows on the upper floor and one window on either side of the front door on the ground floor. A chimney extends from the left side of the roof, indicating a fireplace inside.
A well-maintained lawn adorned with various small plants and flowers. A concrete pathway leads to three steps up to a small porch area before reaching the wooden front door.
Mary leads you up to where your room is at and it seemed to be one of her boy’s old nurseries, but now the wall was decorated with two old band posters, The Beatles and a Zeppelin poster. Huh. The bed had a floral blanket and a navy sheet under it. There were two pillows in a white silk covers and a lamp on the beside table.
“John and I are gonna hit the hay, so, goodnight, love.” Mary waves from the doorframe, giving you one last glance before heading off.
“Goodnight,” You reply, setting your suitcase down beside your bed and lay back on your bed.
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In the locker room, you changed into your scrubs, the fabric feeling foreign yet exciting against your skin. You tucked your hair under a surgical cap and checked yourself in the mirror. Ready.
The hospital corridors were a maze of activity, doctors and nurses moving with a sense of urgency that was almost palpable. You found your way to the intern's lounge, where a group of young doctors was gathered, pouring over patient charts and sipping on coffee as if it were a lifeline.
That's when you met her — Charlie Bradbury. With her vibrant red hair and a stack of comic books under her arm, she was a splash of color in the sterile environment. She noticed you immediately, her green eyes lighting up with an impish sparkle.
"Hey, you must be the new kid! I'm Charlie, your friendly neighborhood genius slash intern. Welcome to the chaos!" she greeted you with an outstretched hand, adorned with quirky rings.
"Thanks, I'm..." you began.
"Don't tell me," she interrupted playfully, "You're the one who just flew in from Cali, right? Mary's been raving about you."
You chuckled, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Guilty as charged."
Charlie showed you around, her chatter filling the spaces between the bustle of the hospital. She introduced you to the other interns, the nurses, and even the grumpy guy who ran the coffee cart. Throughout the day, you shadowed her as she confidently navigated patient care, inserting IV lines with precision and calming anxious patients with her quirky humor.
Despite the exhaustion that came with the endless rounds and the mountain of new information, you felt a sense of accomplishment. You were doing this, really doing it — and you were not alone.
In the afternoon, Mary tasked you with delivering first aid kits to the local fire department as part of a community outreach program. You welcomed the break from the hospital walls and made your way to the fire station with a box of supplies in tow.
As you approached, you noticed a firefighter washing a large, red truck — his sleeves rolled up, revealing muscular arms, and his focus never wavering from the task at hand. You hesitated for a moment before approaching.
"Excuse me," you called out, "I have a delivery from Lawrence General?"
He turned around, and you were met with striking green eyes and a smudge of soap on his cheek. He was ruggedly handsome, with a stubble that spoke of long hours and a jaw set with determination.
"Oh, hey," he replied, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Thanks for the-"
Before he could finish, another firefighter called out to him, "Dean, we need you!"
"Sorry, duty calls," he said with a charming, apologetic grin. "Just leave the kits by the door, and thanks again."
"No problem," you replied, feeling a pang of disappointment as the moment ended too quickly. You placed the box down and watched as he jogged back to his colleagues, ready to respond to the next emergency.
The rest of your shift passed in a blur, and before you knew it, Mary was driving you back to the Winchester home. As the car hummed along the road, she glanced at you with a knowing smile.
"I hope your first day wasn't too overwhelming. You did great," she said encouragingly.
"It was definitely a day to remember," you admitted with a tired smile.
Mary's expression turned warm and excited as she announced, "Well, get ready for a family dinner tonight. John and I want you to meet our sons properly. They're excited to have you."
The thought of the evening ahead sparked a mix of nerves and curiosity within you.
"Oh, uh, okay." you replied slightly indifferent by the unexpected dinner, but the prospect of a meal with a family that wouldn’t make measure how many calories your plate has won’t be bad just because you had to meet your “landlord’s” sons. “Sounds nice.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
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And there’s that! Next time. 😉
Character Introduction For This Series
Dean Winchester Masterlist
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 1 month
Note
hello! i'm sorry if this is super random, but i was wondering if you could possibly rec soem of yuor favorite spn blogs? writitng or gifs or anything related to spn?
(if this isn't okay, i do apoligize)
Hi! I'm going to do a bit of a hodge podge of recs for you!
@spnfanficpond - The SPN fanfic pond is an awesome source of TONS of blogs that write for SPN and they have multiple posts of fic recs!
@mrswhozeewhatsis - Look, another Michelle! Michelle has her own writing along with being an AMAZING fic recommender. She often reblogs others works and there's something there for everyone!
@supernatural-imagine-oneshot - Okay, this blog hasn't been active in a long time but the stories here are all incredible. This blog in particular is a big reason for getting me into fanfic and wanting to write it.
@supernatural-jackles - I'll happily recommend Jen's entire catalogue for your Dean and Jensen loving heart. She's not around much these days but I never read a bad fic from her and she handled writing about hard topics wonderfully.
@torn-and-frayed - Just go and do yourself a favor and read Steph's series Send The Pain Below right now. This series was one of my first forays into reading RPF and hot damn it doesn't dissapoint.
@kittenofdoomage - Rhi is pretty much on AO3 now but you can get to her stuff there. This is where I discovered ABO and fell in love! Iron Heart made my apocalyptic story loving heart so very happy and still does!
@campingmonkey - Elaina writes for not only multiple fandoms including SPN but she makes gifs too! Single handedly has saved me when I'm looking for the perfect gif but can't find it in existence. She's got another blog too @acklesmallville for all your Jason Teague needs!
@beaujensen - Because we all need more gifs of Beau Arlen in our lives
@justjensenanddean - The reason I get distracted on my timeline and forget to write sometimes lol. They got gifs, pics, keep up to date with news, cons, etc. and reblog other Jensen stuff too so yeah, this is one of my favorite blogs.
@zepskies - Zep is my new addiction. There's SPN stuff along with other shows Jensen's been in like The Boys and Big Sky. She does canon, she does AU and her writing is just damn good (aka this is the kind of writer that makes me want to step up my game). And I love how responsive she is to literally every comment, reblog, ask, etc. She sets the bar high for the rest of us!
I hope that gives you some good stuff to dig into!
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zepskies · 8 months
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Series Masterlist - Smoke Eater
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Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 
Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 
That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   
AN: "Smoke eater": a self-appointed slang term for a firefighter.
Get ready for an AU! Several SPN characters will make their appearances: Sam and John Winchester, Castiel as "Cas Novak," Ellen and Jo Harvelle, Jack Kline, Benny Lafitte, Gordon Walker, Meg Masters, Chuck Shurley, Nick (yes, even him), and more!
Series Tags/Warnings: (**18+ only!) There will be a lot of heart, a lot of fun, drama, heartbreak, protective Dean, and even a murder mystery. Rating for eventual smut, perilous situations, and other chapter-specific tags.
🎵 Listen While You Read: The Smoke Eater Playlist
Chapters:
Part 1 - Class and Style
Part 2 - Lieutenant Winchester
Part 3 - Got a Hold on Me
Part 4 - Rocky Road
Part 5 - Twitterpated
Part 6 - Just Casual
Part 7 - Cherry Pie & Lemon Drizzle
Part 8 - Likewise, Baby
Part 9 - Do Not Disturb
Part 10 - Toil and Trouble
Part 11 - Heart of the Home
Part 12 - All in the Family
Part 13 - Boiling Point
Part 14 - Message in a Bottle
Part 15 - The Good Part
Part 16 - Break Down the Gates
Part 17 - The Real Deal
Part 18 - V for Vendetta
Part 19 - Sacrifice
Epilogue - Easy as Pie
Series Complete!
Bonus One-Shots:
Coming soon…
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🎙️ Podfic:
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Listen to Part 1 in podfic form!
(Cover image and narration by @talltalesandbedtimestories)
Or listen to the official Idling in the Impala episode on YouTube:
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
Dean Winchester Series List
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List:
Comment below if you'd like to be tagged in this series!
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19
@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420
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midnightstar-90 · 10 months
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Fanfic Suggestions
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This is a masterlist of all the fanfics that I have read and give a "10/10 Would Read Again" Rating. I love these writer's works, and I believe they deserve the recognition. They inspire me and my writing, and I am truly thankful for that.
I am incorporating both Tumblr and Wattpad Fanfics. If it has a user, it's a Tumblr writing, and no user is a Wattpad writing.
Hope y'all enjoy ❤️
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🔥- 18+/Mature | ☔- Sad
Scream
Lovers Lane (C.M.M) 🔥
@msgorillagripcoochie's About You Fic (C.M.M)
@n-slayaaaaa's Calls I Can't Make Fic 1 2 3 (E.L) | (C.M.M) 🔥
DC Comics
Knight Wolf and Little Robin (J.T)
Lost Cause (J.T)
Control (C.K)
@tinkerbelle05's Maybe We'll Get Through This (J.R)
@asonofpeter's Where You Go Masterlist (J.R)🔥
@oneshots-heaven's The Motel Room Masterlist (D.G)
Vampire Diaries | Originals | Legacies
The Original Daughter (E.M)
Cursed Witch (K.M) 🔥
Damon's Daughter (D.S)
Avatar
@avatarkv
@cryinginthemoonpool's A Forgotten Birthday ☔ (Sully Family)
Harry Potter
Infinity (F.W) 🔥
Evermore (S.S) 🔥
Endgame (S.S) 🔥
Stranger Things
Ho Hey (E.M)
Julie & The Phantoms
Somethin Stupid (R.P)
Boy Meets World
Capsize (S.H)
Oscar Issac + Characters
@melodygatesauthor (O.I)
@sweetly-yours-and-mine (O.I)
@bastardmandennis's Pretty When You Cry (J.L) 🔥
@ivystoryweaver's With You Masterlist (Moon Knight System)
@mooooonnnzz's Miguel O'hara & Daughter Action 1, 2, 3, 4 (M.O)
Moondust (Moon Knight System)
@m00nsbaby's Why Won't You Love Me? (Moon Knight System)☔
@lockleysfav's Haze (M.O)🔥
@januaryembrs's Last Knight In SOHO Masterlist (Moon Knight System)🔥
@bastardmandennis's Even If It's A False God (M.S)🔥
@ohmystaxk's Goodbye, My Dear Stranger Masterlist (Moon Knight System)🔥
@alwritey-aphrodite's I'll Be Back Again To Stay Masterlist (S.G)🔥
Marvel
Pistol (H.B)
Freaks | Runaways | Heroes | Humans (P.M)
@anonymousewrites's Portal To My Heart Masterlist (L.L)
Shadow & Bone
Stain of Red (The Darkling)
@midnightlilium's Reborn Masterlist (The Darkling) 🔥☔ * Not as explicit as other content on this app*
@kasagia's I'll Be Back For You Fic 1 2 (The Darkling) | (K.B)
@moonlightgrisha's Moon Summoner Masterlist (The Darkling)
Actors
@yawneneteyam's All Things Connected Masterlist (J.F)
@babybluebex's Bad Idea, Right? (J.Q) 🔥
IT
@anxiouslymalicious's Losers Club Plus One Masterlist (R.T)
New Girl
A Summer's Day (N.M) 🔥
Bridgerton
@bosbas's Love In Bloom Masterlist (B.B)
@nikkisheep's To Be Alone With You series (A.B) 🔥 1 2 3
@bellatrixscurls's Arranged Marriage (A.B) 🔥
@bellatrixscurls's Exquisite Weather Today, No? (A.B) 🔥1
@fayes-fics's A Beneficial Arrangement (A.B) 🔥
@marwritesgood's Illicit Affairs (A.B) 🔥
@dreamwritesimagines's Enamored Masterlist (A.B)
The Second Born Bridgerton & The Second Born Bridgerton's Wife (B.B)
@homeofthepeculiar's I Know You So Well Masterlist (B.B)🔥
Criminal Minds
@dr-spencer-reids-queen's Criminal Minds Series Rewrite Masterlist (S.R)
@fortheloveofwonderland's Me & You & Everyone We Know - Masterlist (S.R)🔥
Jensen Ackles + Characters
@zepskies's Take Me Home Masterlist (B.A)
@zepskies's Masterlist (Jensen + Characters)
@luci-in-trenchcoats's Home Sweet Not Home (J.A)
@lamentationsofalonelypotato's You Call It Madness But I Call It Love Masterlist (S.B)
@anundyingfidelity's Blood, Sweat, & Tears (B.B/S.B)🔥
@syrma-sensei's Hush Hush Behind The Shield (S.B)🔥
@anundyingfidelity's I'm A Ruin 1, 2, 3 (S.B)🔥
@wayward-dreamer's Pillow Talk (S.B)🔥
@princessmisery666's Please Don't Leave (J.A)
The Rookie
@xxchumanixx's Rookie Masterlist (T.B/J.N)
@chiefdirector's Rookie Masterlist (T.B/Chenford)
@fluentmoviequoter's Rookie Masterlist (T.B)
Percy Jackson Series
@woodlandwrites's Mind Over Matter (L.C)
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Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen
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Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”
SERIES MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
(divider credits go to @cafekitsune)
A/N - Inspired by Take Me Home by @zepskies
A/N 2 - Him in this outfit is MMM
five - make him hurt, make me bleed
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PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:
A man with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes strolled into the newly opened diner where Olivia met Tom, whistling under his breath. His phone was on, a photo of him and a redheaded woman displaying a ring on the lock screen, a heart drawn around her made up face. A worker called Dan put down his mop, strolling over with a sunny smile. “Evening, sir, can I help you?”
“Yeah, thanks, man.” The man nodded with a friendly grin, eyes darting around the room as his fingers fiddled in his pocket. “I’m, uh, I’m lookin’ for my son. His name’s Tom Holden. Have you seen him?”
“He went off with a girl, Olivia Barlowe, earlier.” Dan informed, hand running through his hair as he gauged the man’s character. “Why, you have something to tell him? I can pass the message on, y’know.”
“Oh, that’d be great.” He took out a notebook from the inside of his jacket, writing an address in neat handwriting before ripping it out and handing it to Dan with a chuckle, his cerulean eyes twinkling. “Just tell him his old man’s in town, yeah?” 
“Does his old man have a name?” Dan raised an eyebrow with a small smirk as he folded the paper, careful not to read the address since it was a breach of privacy.
“Oh! Oh, yeah.” The man nodded, looking down for a moment with a deep laugh before he glanced back up. “Harry. Harry Holden.”
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NOW:
“Alright, you know what to do.” I gestured in front, leaning back in my seat as I glanced at Olivia. “We’re moving onto slower roads, so clutch, change gears.” She did as I asked, and I grinned, clapping as quietly as I could to not spook her. “Good work, sweetheart. You’re a natural, just like your mom.” We pulled up at a grocery store, so I grabbed my wallet, prepping to get out. “Hang tight, gun’s in the glovebox, keep the car door locked until you see me at the passenger’s door, ok?”
“Got it, auntie.” She nodded, so I relaxed, getting out of the car. I shut the door, making my way inside the store while whistling a little tune. I made a beeline for the fruits, picking up a basket on the way before picking out the best ones, dropping them into my basket. My whistling turned into a hum, brushing my curtain bangs out of my face before inspecting a box of strawberries.
“Sunflower, I’m plannin’ on making some strawberry cheesecake, do you think these are good?” Lucy held up a box of rasberries, grinning innocently because if she didn’t know. I smirked knowingly, and replaced the box of raspberries with a box of strawberries. “Oh! Thanks. Silly me.”
“Issy?” I was yanked reluctantly out of the memory, looking up and my blood running cold as I saw… Harry. A wide grin spread across his face as he stepped forward, tilting his head slightly. “It is you, oh, I knew it!” There he goes again with that British accent that makes my skin crawl. It used to make my knees weak.
“Harry.” I sighed, smiling politely, but it faltered when I saw Rhea walk up with… Tom. I locked eyes with the boy and it clicked instantly, a sharp pang of pain shooting through my chest. “And Tom’s… your son?”
“You know my boy?” Harry grinned, clapping Tom on the shoulder. “Well, my darling-” He held Rhea’s hand, which I noticed had a shiny ring on it, “and I adopted Tom a while ago. Rhea, you know Isabelle, right?”
“You’re Tom’s old friend, right?” The redhead smiled, putting out her hand. “Rhea Summers- no, sorry, Holden. Rhea Holden, neé Summers, it’s hard to compute.”
I shook her hand, forcing a chuckle, my mouth feeling dry. “Elle Joyner.”
“Three’s a crowd, but four’s a party.” I heard a familiar Texas accent behind me, and I instantly knew it was Beau, and he laid a protective hand on my shoulder. Harry’s eyebrow twitched, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he glanced between Beau and I. “Who’s this, sweetheart?” He knew exactly who this was, so it confused me a little.
“Harry Holden.” Harry introduced, putting out his hand for Beau to shake, seemingly bothered and slightly intimidated since the man was taller than him. “I’m, uh, Elle’s old friend.” Beau’s eyebrow quirked, instantly clocking that Harry was lying. But he shook the latter’s hand anyway, adopting a smile.
“Sheriff Beau Arlen.” He introduced, putting unnecessary emphasis on the first word of the sentence. He then put his hand on my hip, drawing me closer in a manner that was almost possessive. “I’m Belle’s boyfriend.” Oh. Oh, we’re doing that. “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, then decided to play along, kissing Beau’s cheek (albeit I had to stand en pointe, and I am NO ballet dancer). I saw a tinge of red flood his cheeks, but he affectionately rubbed my side with a chuckle.
“Your boyfriend.” Harry repeated quietly before clearing his throat and raising his voice slightly. “Well, Olivia will be seeing Tom tonight, won’t she? I’ll drop her off, if that’s ok.”
“Mhmm, yeah, it’s ok. I’ll, uh, see you tonight.” I nodded, swallowing as Beau’s grip felt more prominent on my hip, as if he tightened it slightly. When Harry, Rhea and Tom trotted off like the happy family I seldom had but wanted, I turned to Beau with an apologetic look. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did.” He smirked, kissing my cheek in what I assumed was revenge, because my ears went red, my eyes widening slightly as I swallowed on a dry throat.
So… more of an attempt.
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In the dimly lit basement of an abandoned warehouse, Cal Joyner found himself bound to a rusty chair, the metallic restraints digging into his flesh, adding to the weight of fear and desperation already bearing down on him. The flickering bulb overhead cast erratic shadows that danced across the grimy walls, framing his captors—members of a notorious crime syndicate—as they loomed over him with a menacing presence.
Remy, a burly man with a scarred face and eyes as cold as steel, stepped forward and snarled, "You think we're playing games here, Cal? We want Lucy's phone, and we want it now."
Cal's eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape that didn't exist. His pulse raced, and his throat felt dry. "I already told you, I don't have it!" he protested, his voice strained with a mixture of fear and defiance. "I don't know where it is."
Beside Remy, another thug with a menacing smirk etched into his features cracked his knuckles. "Maybe you need a little more convincing," he sneered, his eyes glinting with malice.
Cal's thoughts flashed back to that haunting night six years ago when Lucy, his beloved daughter, was taken from him. The pain was still raw, a wound that refused to heal. The memory of her murder lingered like a relentless specter, its grip tightening with each passing moment. And now, these men were threatening his only remaining daughter.
"You touch Elle," Cal spat, his eyes burning with defiance, "and I swear—"
The thug cut him off with a menacing laugh. "Oh, we will touch her, Cal. Unless you start being honest with us."
Cal's jaw clenched, his mind racing through a fog of fear and desperation. He was backed into a corner, and lying was second nature to him, even in this dire circumstance. "I already told you, Lucy's phone is gone. Destroyed."
Remy's patience wore thin. He seized Cal by the collar, his grip like iron. "Listen, you scum. We know you're lying. Lucy kept everything on that phone—information that could bury our client, and he paid a large sum o’ money for our services. We like to deliver. So, we want it back, and we'll tear this whole town apart if we have to."
Cal's eyes flickered towards the door, his thoughts scrambling for a way out. But the goon's grip tightened, yanking him back into the harsh reality of his predicament.
"Last chance, Cal," Remy growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Where. Is. The. Phone?"
In that tense moment, Cal's mind raced. He thought of his daughter, of the desperate need to protect her as she tried to protect him. He had to buy time, he had to think. "I don’t know!" he blurted out, his voice trembling. "I… don’t know."
The thug exchanged a skeptical glance with Remy before nodding. "You've got twenty-four hours. If you don't come up with answers, we'll bring Elle here."
As the syndicate members filed out of the room, leaving Cal alone with his thoughts, he sagged against the chair, his heart heavy with dread. The cold sweat that had formed on his brow trickled down his temple, and his hands shook uncontrollably.
He closed his eyes, trying to calm the tumultuous storm raging within him. The memories of Lucy flooded back—her bright smile, her laughter, her dreams shattered by a cruel twist of fate. He couldn't let the same fate befall his only remaining daughter. He had to find a way out of this, but the odds seemed insurmountable.
Hours passed in agonizing silence broken only by the distant sounds of the city outside—a world oblivious to the terror festering in this forsaken basement. Cal's mind raced through a labyrinth of regrets and fears, each turn leading him deeper into despair.
When the basement door creaked open once more, Cal's heart skipped a beat. The heavy thud of footsteps echoed through the dimly lit space as Remy and his men returned, their silhouettes casting elongated shadows against the grimy walls. The flickering bulb overhead bathed them in an eerie light, rendering their expressions unreadable beneath the dance of light and shadow.
Remy's gaze bore into Cal like steel. "Well, Cal, any revelations?" His voice was low and commanding, cutting through the tense silence that enveloped the basement.
Cal's throat felt dry as he searched desperately for words, any words that could appease these dangerous men. His mind raced, grappling with fear and uncertainty. "I've been trying to remember," he stammered, his voice hoarse with anxiety. "But it's all a blur. Please, just give me more time."
The thug standing beside Remy snorted dismissively. "Time's up, old man. We're not in the business of waiting."
Remy's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin like fraying rope. "You're testing our goodwill, Cal. That's dangerous territory."
Cal's pulse quickened as he felt the weight of their scrutiny bearing down on him. He knew he was running out of options, but the thought of Elle's safety propelled him forward, a flicker of determination igniting within the depths of his despair.
And then, as if a spark of inspiration had ignited in the darkness, Cal's gaze fell upon the shadows creeping along the walls—the same shadows that had become his silent allies in this harrowing ordeal.
"I remember something," Cal began, his voice steadier now, laced with a glimmer of hope amidst the prevailing fear. "It's a long shot, but... Lucy used to talk about a storage unit she kept for sentimental stuff. Maybe the phone is there."
Remy's eyes narrowed further, skepticism etched into every line of his scarred face. "Don't play games with us, Cal."
"I'm not," Cal insisted, the lie slipping effortlessly from his lips. "I'll take you there. Just... spare Elle."
The thug exchanged a meaningful glance with Remy, their silent communication speaking volumes of the danger that lingered in the air. After a tense moment of deliberation, Remy finally nodded, a glimmer of reluctant acceptance in his eyes.
"Fine, Cal," Remy relented, his voice tinged with caution. "You've got one chance. Lead the way."
Relief flooded through Cal like a rushing tide, though he masked it behind a façade of determination. He knew he was treading on thin ice, balancing on a knife's edge between deception and survival. But for his youngest’s sake, he would navigate this treacherous path with unwavering resolve.
As they unbound him from the rusty chair, Cal's limbs felt heavy with both exhaustion and renewed purpose. He rose to his feet, the cold basement air biting against his skin as he prepared to embark on this perilous journey.
Together, they ascended from the depths of the basement, stepping out into the frigid embrace of the night. The distant sounds of the city seemed muffled, drowned out by the weight of their shared secrets and impending dangers.
Cal led the way through narrow alleyways, empty highways and deserted streets for hours that felt like days, his mind racing with the urgency of their mission. Each step forward carried the weight of uncertainty, a delicate dance between deceit and salvation.
The storage unit Lucy had mentioned existed on the outskirts of town—a forgotten corner obscured by neglect and urban decay. As they approached the weathered metal door, Cal's heart hammered against his chest with a mixture of apprehension and hope.
He fumbled with the lock, the metallic clink resonating in the silence of the night. With a creak, the door swung open, revealing a dimly lit interior cluttered with dusty boxes and forgotten relics.
Remy and his men followed closely behind, their wary eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of deception. Cal's gaze swept over the disarray, his memories of Lucy flooding back with a poignant ache.
"She kept it somewhere here," Cal murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He moved cautiously through the labyrinth of forgotten treasures, his hands trembling with a mixture of anticipation and dread. He searched desperately, found object after object, but no phone. He knew that the game was up, that his lies had only gotten so far. “I swear, it’s here-” He collapsed in a crumpled, lifeless heap as a gunshot rang out through the hollow space, smoke pluming from Remy’s gun as he blew it off.
“My patience wore thin.” Remy’s sighed, storing the gun back in its holster. He turned to the rest of his team, nodding resignedly. “You lot know what to do.”
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Markham poured himself a glass of wine, trying to settle his nerves as he set the table for dinner. Olivia was visiting for the weekend, as she did when no one was at home, per the arrangement with her aunt. Markham’s relationship with Olivia was polite but distant, a delicate balance between the roles of stepfather and guardian. He often struggled to connect with her, unsure of how to bridge the gap that had formed between them over the years.
When Olivia entered the dining room, her eyes brightened at the sight of the beautifully set table. “Wow, this looks amazing, Mark,” she said with a warm smile, taking her seat.
Mark nodded, attempting a smile in return. “Thank you, Olivia. I’m glad you’re here.” He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words to broach the subject that had been weighing heavily on his mind. “How have you been, sweetheart?”
Olivia glanced up from her plate, her expression softening. “I’ve been good, thank you,” she replied politely. “School’s going well. Aunt Isa says hi, by the way.”
“That’s good to hear,” Mark said, trying to hide his disappointment at the mention of Olivia’s aunt. “Listen, Liv, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”
Olivia looked up curiously, her fork pausing midway to her mouth. “Sure, what is it?”
Mark took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. “I’ve been thinking… maybe it’s time for a change. I know you’ve been living with your aunt for a while now, but I’d like you to consider staying with me permanently.”
Olivia’s eyes widened in surprise, and then her brow furrowed slightly. “Oh,” she said softly, setting her fork down. “I… I appreciate that, Mark, but I really like living with Aunt Isa. She’s been taking care of me for so long, and I feel comfortable there.”
“I understand,” Mark replied, trying to keep his tone even. “But I think it would be good for us to spend more time together, to get to know each other better.”
Olivia fidgeted with her napkin, a troubled look crossing her face. “It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you, Mark. You’re nice to me and everything. It’s just… Aunt Isa has always been there for me. She’s like a second mom.”
Mark’s heart sank a little at Olivia’s words. He had hoped that she would see him as more than just a distant figure in her life. “I see,” he said quietly, hiding his disappointment behind a forced smile. “Well, I want you to be happy, Olivia. That’s the most important thing.”
Olivia nodded, her expression apologetic. “I’m sorry, Mark. I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Mark said, his voice tinged with sadness. “I just want what’s best for you.”
The rest of the dinner passed in strained conversation, both Mark and Olivia making an effort to keep things light. As they finished their meal, Mark cleared his throat again, summoning the courage to address the inevitable.
“Well, Olivia,” he began, “it’s getting late. I should take you back to your aunt’s place.”
Olivia nodded, pushing her plate aside. “Okay,” she said quietly, her eyes downcast.
Mark stood up and walked around the table to where Olivia was sitting. He placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to convey a sense of reassurance. “Thank you for coming over, Olivia. I always enjoy having you here.”
Olivia looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Thank you, Mark. I’m sorry I can’t… you know…”
Mark smiled sadly, squeezing her shoulder gently. “It’s alright, Olivia. Maybe one day things will be different.”
Olivia nodded, offering him a small, grateful smile. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Mark fetched his keys and jacket, and together they made their way to the door. Olivia grabbed her coat and bag, her movements slow and deliberate.
Outside, Mark held open the car door for Olivia, waiting patiently as she settled into the passenger seat. As he drove towards her aunt’s house, the silence between them was heavy with unspoken words.
When they arrived, Mark pulled up in front of the house and turned off the engine. He turned to Olivia, his expression earnest. “Take care of yourself, Olivia,” he said softly.
Olivia nodded, her eyes shining. “You too, Mark.”
I opened the door, adopting a wide smile as I ignored the mixture of red, blue and green cars, along with a random black sedan, as my eyes focused on Olivia, her golden curls bouncing as she bounded up to me. She threw her arms around me, and I returned it with a laugh. “I missed you too, gumdrop.” I grinned, kissing her hair. “C’mon, I got ice cream.” I led her inside, closing the door with a curt nod to Mark. “What flavour are you feelin’ tonight? Vanilla or mint chocolate chip?”
“How about both?”
“I like the way you think.” I smirked, going to the freezer and pulling out the two tubs. “We’re gonna have this snack before heading to the sheriff’s trailer, because he hosts movie night. That ok with you?” I gave her a soft smile, only willing to go if she was.
However, her eyes lit up and so did the rest of her face, a broad grin spreading on her lips. “Yeah, of course! I still can’t get over the fact that my aunt has movie nights with the sheriff.” Olivia smirked. “Is there something you’re not telling me-?”
“Olivia Autumn Barlowe, where do you get these ideas from?” I passed her a bowl of ice cream with a laugh. “Jenny, Cassie and Carla will be there too.” I gave her a stern look, but couldn’t help but break into giggles again alongside her. “You’re insufferable.”
“You love me.”
“I do.” I was about to open my mouth, but there was a loud bang on the door. My hand rubbed my exposed forearm from where my plaid shirt’s sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, a small frown on my face as another, more forceful bang shook the doorframe. It didn’t sound like it’d hold, and the many men’s voices from outside told me that this was a situation that I needed to get Olivia out of. I grabbed the keys to the back door just as a look of terror crossed her pretty features, breaking my heart.
“A-Auntie? What’s going on?” She whispered, looking to me with pleading eyes. I walked over quickly, acting on my feet and putting the keys in her hand.
“I don’t know. But you need to go.” I gripped her shoulders tight, my eyes flickering to the door, which was echoing- bang, bang, bang - and making it hard to think as the door rattled on what I knew were now flimsy hinges. “Out of the back door, ok? Our phones are upstairs, so there’s no time to get ‘em. Don’t get in the car, they might see you. Just run, keep on running, you know where Sheriff Arlen’s trailer is. Go tell him what’s happening, and he has backup with him already, ok? I need you to be strong for me and stay calm, alright?” Tears were starting to well up in her eyes, so I hugged her quickly, then kissed her forehead. “Please, sweetie. Run.” And she did what she was told right as the door busted down. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer, ready to attack. Five men rushed in, all younger, taller, and with stronger builds.
There’s no way I was winning this fight.
“There’s Cal Joyner’s little girl.” One of them smirked, stepping towards me. “And she’s got a knife.”
“She’s a pretty little thing.” Another added with a matching wolffish grin. “D’you reckon we should have our fun with her?” The statement made my blood run cold and heart thank my mind over and over that I got Olivia out.
“Not if she’s wielding that pigstick.”
“That won’t be a problem, Yates, we’ll have that out of her hands in seconds.”
“Don’t you dare.” I spoke up, holding the knife out cautiously, trying to remain strong. “Deputy Elle Joyner, Sheriff’s Department. Tell me what you’ve done to Cal.”
“Cal’s got a bullet in his brain, sugar lips.” The one at the front chuckled, stepping forward, and with one clean swipe, his beefy hand knocked the knife out of my hand, another fist connecting with my cheek and knocking me to the floor. My fingers touched my bloody lip gingerly, but I found my back crashing through the glass coffee table, the shards slicing my clothes and skin. My brain tried to compute the pain as I let out a small groan, even more so when the wood of my dining table chair came into view. I rolled over, letting it hit my back with a strangled cry.
Olivia was running like her life depended on it- or her aunt’s, more accurately, sprinting over to Beau’s trailer with her legs pumping and tears flying from her pretty blue eyes.
“Say, is Belle gonna take any longer?” Beau chuckled deeply, his fingers drumming on the chair leg.
“Give her some time, Beau.” Carla chastised. “She has a life.”
“Yeah, Beau.” Jenny smirked, nudging him with a cheeky grin.
“You tell her, Carla.” Cassie added with a giggle, and when Beau looked to Emily for support, she shrugged in a way that said ‘don’t look at me’.
“You inducted my daughter into your little support group.” Beau faux-gasped. “I’ll never forgive you. Never-”
“SHERIFF!” Olivia came bounding up the driveway, and all of them sensed right away that something was seriously wrong. Beau met her halfway, catching Olivia as she practically collapsed into his arms with rasping, shaky breaths, on the verge of having a panic attack.
“Easy, Liv, sweetheart, what’s going on?” He asked with a frown, stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her down. “Shh, easy, talk to me.”
“It’s A-Aunt Isa!” She cried, holding onto him like a lifeline. The sentence made Jenny, Cassie and Carla stand up, the latter gesturing for Emily to stay put. “Some men s-started breaking d-down the door, s-she told me to run; why did I run-”
“I’ve got you.” Beau nodded, sharing a look with Jenny and Cassie. “Your aunt’s gonna be ok. I’m gonna go with Jenny. You stay here, with Carla and Cassie, alright? I won’t let anythin’ happen to her, sweetheart. I promise.” Then he turned to Jenny, grabbing his keys from a side table. “Hoyt, let’s go.”
“I’ll call for an ambulance.” Jenny announced, pulling out her phone as they rushed to Beau’s car, Jenny’s panicked voice and the emergency line operator filling the atmosphere. After a drive that felt like an eternity, they pulled up at their destination and almost leapt out to find the door ajar and shards of glass and splinters of wood on the floor, along with a stain of red that only sent chills down their bones.
“BELLE!” Beau yelled as he ran inside, and the moment he saw my body, lying weak, barely conscious and covered in blemishes and remnants of blows, he fell to his knees beside me. I recognised his face only barely, a short, raspy breath leaving my mouth as I tried to say his name. Was Olivia ok? Is she safe? Of course she is, otherwise Beau wouldn’t have found me- God, my everything hurts. “Hoyt- Hoyt! I need an ETA on the ambulance.” Panic riddled his voice as he checked me over. “I-It’s bad, J-Jenny, it’s bad, she’s bruised all over- what did those bastards do to her?” He looked down at me, my eyes meeting his pretty green ones as he smoothed back my hair from my face. “Stay with me, Deputy. Don’t go passin’ on me now, don’t you dare.”
I tried to whisper out anything at all, but my lungs and/or ribs hurt too much.
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I woke up groggily in Beau’s cabin for the third time this week, rubbing my forehead as I grunted softly, propping myself up on the pillows. Beau now no longer trusted the safety of my own house, which had now become a crime scene, therefore prompting him to insist that I stay at his trailer while Dean took care of Olivia. I had taken a beating that day, and my limbs felt like Jello.
“Mornin’ sweetheart.” Beau stepped in with an affectionate smile, sitting down beside my legs, his hand on my knee while his thumb stroked it. “You doin’ better?”
“Physically, yes.” I nodded, sighing dejectedly as I took in the angry red marks on my forearms. He tried to meet my eyes with what looked like concern add even pity flashing behind his.
“And… emotionally?”
“I…” I bit my lip, frowning as I looked down at my hands. The hands of the law, or so I claim. “I just feel useless, Sheriff.”
“Useless?” He looked incredulous, his hand tightening on my knee. “T-The hell you calling useless, Belle?”
“Me.” I sighed, licking my lips nervously. “I have been so… weak lately. I’ve taken but after hit and… I was a niece to protect. If I can’t protect myself, how can I protect her from others? I feel like I’ve failed her, Sheriff. I’ve failed my baby.” My voice cracked at the end, the pain tearing at my heart.
“Your first instinct was to protect Liv.” He assured. “You didn’t think of anyone else before her. You got her to safety first, and I’d label that a damn good aunt, Belle. She’s safe and sound. No longer in danger, and she’s with her dad. She’s ok.”
I nodded. “I guess I can rest now.”
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LMF TAGLIST:
@nancymcl @deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @thej2report @winharry @abramswife
Make sure to like, reblog with feedback and comment! Comment if you want to join the taglist!
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deanbrainrotwritings · 4 months
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2024 !
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another year passes, and I’m still, only obsessed with Dean, awesome 😃👍🏻
I started off writing silly stories for school and for myself since I was a kid, and I always got praise from teachers and my family, but I never thought I could do actually anything or that anyone would like what I write
turns out I was wrong ! which is great, lol. writing is everything to me, as are the fictional characters I write about. (damn, I know I write Dean the most, but I have daydreams, and WIPs of other characters 😭)
there are so many writers who have inspired me, so many blogs that have made me laugh, and so many readers that have kept me motivated to continue writing. I’m so grateful.
I was 11 when I started writing for supernatural and doctor who (to myself), never brave enough to put myself out there. [even though my stories were a bunch of ridiculous nonsense half of the time]
I’m 21, which doesn’t feel any different from my previous ages, lmao, I’m still so… raw and unstable, not gonna lie. But I’m happy? Somehow. I feel ancient, and tired, and kind. It’s the strangest thing. And writing has really helped me out in a million meaningful ways, and so has supernatural (up until 15.20), but anyway… I really truly appreciate all of you, even if we’re not mutuals, even if we never talk
I hope you all have a wonderful, truly amazing year, that everything goes right, and that you all stay or become happy.
seriously, have a virtual slice of my birthday cake from when I turned 12. ya know, since I’m 21. (my birthday’s in december, and I was born in 2002, hilarious, so many 2s and 1s) <333333
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off the top of my head, I want to thank ya’ll for a variety of reasons :
@kaleldobrev @k-slla @zepskies @impala-dreamer @jawritter @talltalesandbedtimestories @freakwiththeknifecollection @justletmereadfanfic @saradika @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @kittenofdoomage @syrma-sensei @deans-spinster-witch @cafekitsune @jackles010378 @deanwithscissors @deansbbyx @deanwinchesterswitch @theimpalatales @thestruidora @jacklesversebingo + all my readers (++everyone that i have ever interacted with, lmao) <333
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Alright I need some help getting my confidence back to posting my kinda okay writing. So I am asking you all to fill up messages/asks and send me requests for one shots or short stories that may or may not spiral into a series, or which of my series do you want a new chapter written?
I guess I should also mention my second page @coffee-shop-girl is where I would post my stories under and that is where they all live. Now you’re probably wondering why I am not posting this on that page? Well I don’t know how to get my message/ask section back. It seems to have disappeared a while ago and that kind of when I stop writing and posting. So for now this page still has access to messages/asks so fingers crossed I don’t lose it on this page.
So what fandoms do I write for?
* Supernatural
* Chicago Fire, P.D.
* Animal Kingdom
* Leverage
* 9-1-1
* Suits
* The Walking Dead
Are my top fandoms, but send me anything, it will be good exercise in the creative process. So read through my meteoric work, see my style of writing, and send me a prompt.
I am tagging a few accounts that seem to have recently found my works, or that I have started following or that use to follow me. hope you don’t mind, I just really want to get eyes on this. I promise I will only tag you in posts moving forward if you want to be.
Thanks again for reading
@dreamtofus @dinahjane97 @lucid315 @winchesterwild78 @hobby27 @dw19791967 @zepskies @spnexploration @clarinette07 @snffbeebee @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @deanwinchesterdaily @deans-spinster-witch @deanwinchestersgirl87 @lyarr24 @jackles010378 @wotinspntarnation @prettybubblesintheair
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