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charmed-asylum · 5 hours
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TOM BLYTH The Late Show with Stephen Colbert
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charmed-asylum · 5 hours
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charmed-asylum · 20 hours
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Hehe soooo funny n cute
Stuck on you
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Summary: Dean can be annoying as fuck. But you're stuck on him.
Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader (fem)
Warnings: a/b/o, needy Dean, annoying Dean, fluff, cuddling & snuggling
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“Dean, can you just not?” You groan and roll your eyes as Dean paces around the library. He glances at the book in your hands like it's an enemy he wants to kill. “What?”
“Do you read that book or just look at it?” He cocks his head when you slam the book shut. Crap, you’re mad.
“Dean Winchester, there are no pictures in the book. Do you think I just stare at the words and wait for them to crawl inside my brain?”
“That’s a funny thought,” he nods slowly. “Imagine, the words just jump at you and nestle in your brain. Would be cool.”
“You’d find it cool only because you hate reading,” you point the book at him. “Now stop distracting me. I try to get this essay done.”
“Why do you write an essay?” He sits on the table to run his fingertips over your thigh. “We could have a movie night or dinner in bed.”
“I need to finish this one because I want that degree,” you stick your tongue out when he rolls his eyes. “Remember, I told you that I want to be more than a huntress one day. The degree is important to me, and I expect you to support me.”
“I do, but—” his eyes drop to your cleavage, and Dean forgets what he wanted to say. He’s close to his rut and in need of cuddles. Dean is simply too proud to ask you to stop ready and start taking care of your alpha.
“Why did I let you claim me again?” You grin at Dean. He tries to hide his neediness and fails epically. You’re an evil bitch and love to tease your alpha. “I can’t believe my alpha is not supporting me.”
“Sweetheart,” he stammers. “I always support you. You know that. It’s just…I need … uh … your help with something.”
“How about you go to your Dean cave and let me read for another hour?” You fake that you are angry and pout. You need Dean to leave so you can take care of him later.
Dean sighs deeply but nods.
“Fine,” he hangs his head and hops off the table. Dean leaves the library without trying to get you to follow him. He knows when he’s not wanted…
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“Why are you calling me? We live in the same place,” Dean asks while walking toward your shared room. He pouts as he enters the room. “Y/N?”
You hang up the phone to pat the spot next to you on your bed. “I thought we could have a movie night and…” You lick your lips, “I’m in need of cuddles and I brought all the nice blankets here.”
“Cuddles, huh?” He closes the door, considering his next step. The book you read lies abandoned on your nightstand. He glares at it and sticks his tongue out. “I’ll give the best cuddles and hugs.
“I know, alpha,” you croon. “Why don’t you come over here and show me how good you can cuddle me.”
Dean cockily smirks. He kicks off his shoes and strips his clothes off.
“I will cuddle you so good you’ll be a mess when I’m done with you.”
You chuckle. “I meant cuddling, not sex.”
He crawls onto the bed and under the covers to pounce on you. You end up on top of Dean, with his arms slung tightly around your body.
“Better?”
“Better,” he nuzzles you. “I have missed you today, sweetheart. Is all.”
“You’ve got me, Dean. Always…”  
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charmed-asylum · 21 hours
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I know I’m guilty of a crime n it’s been eating me alive this story too damn good
Series Masterlist - Take Me Home
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Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 
Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you both have a past you’re running from. 
AN: Welcome to my first ever Big Sky series! This is set towards the beginning of season 3.
Series Tags/Warnings: (**18+ only!) Angst and grief/trauma, PTSD, canon murder mystery, eventual smut.
🎵 Listen While You Read: The TMH Playlist
Chapters:
Part 1: All of Her Days
Part 2: It's Not Right, But It's Okay
Part 3: Welcome Home
Part 4: A Past & Future Thing
Part 5: Not That Simple - (COMING 3/24)
Part 6: A Man or a Coward
Part 7: On the Edge of a Knife
Part 8: Take Me Home
Epilogue: A Choice to Make
(Note: New chapters will release on Sundays and Wednesdays.)
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
Big Sky Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List:
Comment below if you’d like to be tagged in this series!
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @ades106
@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @deans-baby-momma @tabsluvsu @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons
@antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @deans-spinster-witch @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @iprobablyshipit91 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @lostin-jensenseyes @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow
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charmed-asylum · 22 hours
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God damn it ( takes a was to blow my nose) SHITTTT THIS WAS SO MANY EMOTIONS AT ONCE AND IDK HOW I FEEL ABOUT THAT LIKE SHIT ON A RITz cracker. I’m just idk so many mmmm idk about that moments and fact she was turn over and bleeding met two things one she was rape or it was attack from behind but Emily was following Mr Shady Cat and he was alone so could he have still done it or was it someone else
Take Me Home - Part 2
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Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 
Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 
AN: Thank you so much for all of your lovely comments on Part 1! I know many of you have questions, and I promise, all will be revealed in due time…
(Also, what do you guys think of new chapters releasing on Wednesdays and Sundays instead of just Fridays? A week is a long time, isn't it? 😂)
Song Inspo: “City Grown Willow” by Radio Company
Word Count: 5,200
Tags/Warnings: Tension, hurt/comfort, major angst, and more comfort of a different sort.
❤️ Series Masterlist
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Part 2: It’s Not Right, But It’s Okay
Tensions were running high at Sunny Day Excursions.
Over the next few days, Mary continued to press the issue of you staying in Montana with little passive aggressive comments that got on your damn nerves. You proverbially dug your heels in, and became even more stubborn and taciturn as a result.
Unstoppable force meets immovable object.
However, the entire camp was shaken the night Paige and Luke disappeared on a hike. Buck and Sunny assured everyone that they were doing their best to look for the couple, but come the morning, it was Emily who accidentally found Luke in the woods, bleeding from a head wound, and without Paige.
He claimed that they’d gone their separate ways after a fight, and he hadn’t seen her since. Paige’s suitcase and things were gone from her tent, so Sunny could only assume that she’d found her way back to camp and left for home by morning.
“Look, no one’s a prisoner here,” Sunny had said. “If Paige wanted to go home, then that’s up to her.”
There was still something off about it though, you felt. Emily seemed to share your thoughts; you’d heard her whispering with Avery, and Dan, another camper in his early 40s.
You started to watch Luke a bit harder from then on. As did your friend Mary, if for different reasons.
It was still early in the morning when you caught her flirting with Luke in front of your shared tent.
“A personal trainer, huh?” said Luke. His gaze flit over Mary’s form, and she allowed it with a smile. “You know, I’ve got a pretty good workout routine, but I’ll bet you can give me some tips—”
“Drink lots of water,” you said dryly as you approached the tent. You carried your sketchpad and acrylic paints in your hand, and you pushed into the tent without giving Luke and Mary more than a glance.
You heard Mary’s voice outside the tent, all girlish and flirtatious as she apologized about you, and suggested they could keep talking later. Luke readily agreed. You sat down on the edge of your bed and watched his silhouette walk away from the tent.
Mary soon joined you inside, and she didn’t look pleased. She stared down at you and crossed her arms.
“Are you kidding me with that shit?” you asked, gesturing at the scene you just saw.
“Could you be any more of a cockblock?” Mary shot back.
“Number one, that guy is a little too young for you, Cougar Town,” you reminded her. Luke had to be in his early 20s. It had been a hot minute since you and Mary were of college age. “Number two, he came here with his girlfriend, who he somehow lost in the woods.”
“She left him,” Mary said. “All alone in the middle of nowhere. Then she took off and went home so she didn’t have to deal with what she did. I feel bad for him.”
“No, you’re horny for him. There’s a difference,” you said flatly.
You loved Mary like a sister, but she had the tendency to let guys blind her to good sense. (Ha. Pot calling the kettle black, came your self-deprecation.)
Though you could’ve predicted the way she huffed and walked away, once again leaving you alone. You sighed.
Wasn’t this vacation for us? you wondered.
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Mary continued to bait Luke with coy flirtation, while you tried and failed to ride a horse again. Cormack had been kind and encouraging in trying to help you onto the creature, but once you were on its back, you were too afraid to let the horse move.
You felt like you were going to topple off at any moment, even with Beau Arlen’s advice. (Which still made you blush whenever you thought about it.)
So Cormack helped you down, and you went back to the mess tent for a mid-afternoon snack to make you feel better: a giant jelly donut.
You were really getting frustrated with yourself now.
“It’s not so hard,” Emily had said. You could imagine that her dad, the cowboy sheriff, had put her on a horse from the time she was a little kid. You were a city girl, through and through. The closest you’d ever gotten to riding a horse was a plastic one—a carousel at a carnival when you were six. 
While you finished off your donut, you realized that you’d spent the whole day alone. As frustrated as you were with Mary, she was your best friend. And after this week, you would be staying and she would be going back to Chicago. You didn’t know when you would get to see her again.
So with a sigh, you wiped your hands free of donut icing and went to try and find her.
You started with the tent you shared with her. “Hey, Mary? Look I—”
You gasped when, upon entering the tent, you got your eyes seared. Mary and Luke were tangled together under the sheets. He moved off of your friend and rolled onto his back next to her when you came in. Mary uttered your name in shock. Everyone was shocked, really.
You were that, and angry.
“Really?! In our goddamn bed?” you shouted. Your gaze focused on Luke, and you pointed at him. “Get the hell out of here.”
He hesitated slightly, glancing at Mary, but your furious look scared him more. He grabbed his boxers and got dressed under the sheets before he left the bed, and then fled the tent, giving you a wide berth on his way out.
You then focused on Mary, who somehow looked both contrite and irritated at being interrupted. She said your name in a placating way, but you shook your head.
“No. No. Don’t even try,” you said. “That guy’s girlfriend left him in the middle of a vacation! What does that tell you? Please, screw me?”
“You know what?” Mary snapped. She sat up in the bed, making sure to cover herself with the sheet. She leaned over to grab her clothes from the floor and started hastily getting dressed.
“Luke’s actually a nice guy," she said. "You used to know how to have fun. But now you’ve just become this bitter person who can’t relax or let yourself be happy, let alone anyone else.”
That actually struck you—like a physical blow to your chest. You tried to blink past the sting of tears in your eyes.
“You’re a damn child,” you said, steadier than you felt. “You’re not the one who had your whole world imploded.”
Mary’s lips pursed. She still looked angry, but also like she was hiding the sting of guilt. She gathered up some of her things and informed you that she’d be staying at Luke’s tent tonight.
Freakin’ fine by you.
You’d also have to request some new bed sheets from Sunny.
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In the morning, you stumbled out of bed after a rough night’s sleep. It was hard for you to sleep in a new place by yourself, especially out here in the woods.
Especially after how you and Mary left things.
You were so tired, you counted it a small blessing that you were able to put on clothes and get your hair into some kind of normalcy before you trekked over to the mess tent.
There you accidentally overheard Avery and Emily arguing; she’d lost her knife in the woods when she’d happened upon Luke, but Avery was reluctant to let her go hiking by herself. Apparently, her mother was due to join them this morning as well.
It seemed like the day of late comers though. A new married couple, Tonya and Donno, had arrived late yesterday to join the trip. They’d requested a tent at the far end of the camp, closest to the woods. Apparently, they wanted to really experience nature.
All you knew was, they seemed a bit weird.
“That knife’s important. My father gave it to me,” Emily said, interrupting your thoughts.
It made Avery quiet, but they both greeted you more pleasantly when you had to walk by them to get to the coffee.
“Hey, sorry,” you gave a little wave in embarrassment. You hated interrupting moments that had nothing to do with you, but you supposed it was unavoidable in this camp.
Once you’d gotten your coffee and filled your plate with some eggs and bacon, you joined them at the table. You pretended not to notice the way they both glanced at you with measures of concern. Did you really look that bad?
Avery wisely didn’t comment. Emily wasn’t as good at curbing her inner filter.
“Hey, you okay?” she asked. You gave her a thin smile.
“Just a bit tired. Didn’t sleep so well,” you admitted.
Of course, that was when the reason for your bedraggled appearance strolled into the mess tent. Mary came in and noticed Avery and Emily first with a smile. It turned frosty when she glanced at you. You gave her a mocking “smile” right back.
She chose to ignore you and went for the buffet table instead.
Right, you thought. You supposed that was how it was going to be for the rest of this damn trip.
“All righty! Good mornin’, folks,” Sunny said, entering the mess tent. She surveyed all the faces gathered—some relaxed and jovial, and then your table, a bit awkward, a bit tense.
She moved on with a smile that matched her name and her shiny red hair.
“Just lettin’ you all know as a reminder, we’ve got a bunch of activities for you all if there are any takers. Archery, kayaking, it’s gonna be a great time,” she said. “But if you prefer, you’re welcome to keep to the camp have a more relaxed day. It’s your vacation, so it’s up to you how you wanna spend it.”
You all nodded in understanding.
It’s your vacation. You choose how you spend it.
That, you could get on board with.
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You spent the rest of the morning alone, as usual. Either you were reading in the outdoor lounge area, taking in the sunshine and the fresh air, or you were painting, taking in the landscape of the tall trees and the great, big mountains peeking out from behind them.
You earned yourself some peace today, one that let you breathe and try to tune out your frustrations with Mary, and your worries about the future. You hummed along to a melody in your mind as you painted. Completely at peace…
Until a hand tapped on your shoulder, making you yelp and sending your paintbrush high in the air.
Cormack came into your line of vision with a barely stifled laugh and placating hands. While you took out your earbuds (and calmed your breathing), he grabbed your brush and handed it back to you.
“Sorry about that. Just wanted to let you know that lunch is served,” he said, though he took a glance at your painting. “Hey, lookin’ real good there. Nice landscape.”
You let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Aw, you don’t have to be so nice. I’m still learning.”
He crossed his arms. “Well, if you’re interested in taking classes, I know someone who runs an art studio in town. Miss Peggy. Nice lady. Not too harsh.”
You laughed more genuinely.
“Good to know, thanks! Send me the address and I’ll check it out,” you said. Cormack agreed with a smile, and he helped you up from the long couch you were sitting on. The two of you walked back together to the central part of the camp, where the mess tent was.
There you met Emily’s mother, Carla, who’d just joined her family at the camp. She wasn’t exactly dressed for camping in her pressed blouse and pencil skirt; professional and smart, her long dark hair a perfect coil.
This woman was immaculate. As you soon learned, she was also a lawyer. You didn’t often feel intimidated by other women, but she could fit that bill, considering you were sweaty and dusty in your plain V-necked shirt and jeans.
And especially knowing that this was Sheriff Arlen’s ex-wife. Avery seemed like the “wealthy businessman” type—the kind of man you’d expect a high-powered lawyer to be with. You found yourself wondering how she’d met the sheriff.
That’s none of your busineeeess, you sing-songed in your mind, while you speared more salad on your plate. As if that could disguise the juicy brisket burger right beside it.
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After lunch, you returned to your tent to finally find Mary. She was lying on the bed, looking a bit listless.
“I’m surprised you’re not attached to Luke’s hip,” you remarked, setting down your backpack and paint supplies on the floor. “Or his face.”
She shot you a peeved look. “He keeps ditching me for that weird new couple. Tonya and Donner or something.”
“Donno?” you supplied. “Yeah, he’s weird. He stole the ketchup bottle from the breakfast table this morning. He told me, ‘You shouldn’t ruin good eggs with sugary tomato paste.’”
Mary raised a brow, but she turned to you when you sat down beside her on the bed. There was a moment of tension between you, even though your gazes were softer to each other. The truth was, you missed your friend today. You guys didn’t fight often, and it had you hurting. Maybe she felt the same way.
“Listen,” you said with a sigh. “I’m not sorry for throwing Luke out of our tent. That was gross as hell, and I didn’t appreciate that. But I don’t want to fight with you. I want to enjoy our last few days together before you go back to Chicago.”
Mary’s lips pursed, but she seemed to relent.
“Yeah, that was a bitch move,” she admitted. She knew full well that her tryst with Luke could’ve happened in his tent, not the one she shared with you. She met your gaze with more resignation, as well as apology.
“You’re really staying here, aren’t you?” she asked.
You nodded. “Yeah, I am. I’m not saying there’s nothing for me back home. Of course I’m going to miss you, our friends, the rest of my family…but I need to do this. I need a fresh start.”
It took her a moment, but Mary nodded. She reached over and hugged you. You held her back tightly.
After a beat, she let you go and slid out of bed.
“Okay,” she sighed. “I need to do something. I’m going stir crazy in here.”
“Where’re you going?” you asked.
“Just for a run,” she replied. “I should be back by dinner.”
“A run?” you repeated, your brows furrowing. “In the woods by yourself? Don’t you think that’s dangerous?”
“Well, you could come with me,” she offered. You grimaced. You and running didn’t mix. You were more of a yoga girl.
Mary laughed and finished changing into her activewear and sneakers.
“That’s what I thought,” she said. “No worries, I’ll have my phone if anything. I’ll be okay.”
“But your cell won’t have service out there!” you said.
Mary was already leaving. She blew you a kiss goodbye, though she did stop in the tent’s entryway. Her face sobered with a sincere apology.
“Look, I’m sorry for everything, okay?” she said. “I know I can be a brat sometimes…but we can talk more when I get back, clear my head.”
You were reluctant to see her go, but you nodded.
“Just be back in time for dinner!” you called after her.
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Mary wasn’t back for dinner. Even after the sun set, she hadn’t come back from her run. You were really beginning to worry.
All the other campers were gathering up at the edge of camp for a Night Hike. It was an idea Buck and Sunny surprised you all with a few hours ago. You wondered if they were trying to make up for the strange way Paige left the camp.
“The moon’s full tonight,” as Sunny had said, with a slightly too bright smile. “Should be a beautiful time.”
You asked some of the others if they’d seen Mary, but they all replied negatively. Even Luke was nowhere to be found…but someone else was missing too.
“I still can’t believe you let her go into the woods alone,” Carla snapped at her husband.
Avery’s frown deepened. “I had no idea she went off by herself. You know your daughter. She’s headstrong—”
“Yeah, just like her father,” Carla muttered, turning away from him. Avery sighed.
You couldn’t help but approach them.
“Emily’s missing?" you said in concern. "Mary is too. I’ve been waiting for her to come back all afternoon.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Carla said. She frowned as anxiety continued to well up in her eyes. “Maybe they found each other.”
You touched her arm in comfort. “Either way, we can all look for them now.”
Sunny came up to the group with a flashlight and a smile.
“Everyone ready?” she asked.
“Mary’s missing,” you told her, “And so is Emily. Mary went on a run this morning and hasn’t been back since.”
Sunny inclined her head. After she surveyed the rest of the crowd, she settled back on you.
“I see Luke’s not among us either. Maybe they’re together?” she suggested, in a leading tone. You frowned.
“No, she left alone,” you said firmly.
“Don’t mean she stayed alone, darlin’,” Sunny replied, with that Oklahoma twang that so often made her words more charming. “But we’ll be sure to look for her and Emily while we’re out there.”
Carla shook her head and said to her husband, “That’s it. I’m calling Beau.”
“Darling, you don’t need to,” Avery replied, shaking his head. “Emily’s a responsible girl. She knows what time we’re meant to leave—”
Carla shook her head and walked past him and Sunny—towards the hotspot for cell service. You agreed with her; calling the sheriff couldn’t hurt, especially if you all couldn’t find Mary or Emily on this hike.
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You still went with the rest of them to start your own search. You tried to keep with the group, but after lingering in certain spots to call for Mary, you eventually realized that you’d lost the trail—and everyone else.
The trees were tall and dark now. The moon was filtering through them like the sun had during other day hikes, but it was much more ominous at night.
“Shit,” you muttered. You gripped your flashlight in worry as panic started to well up in your chest.
Now you were lost.
You jumped with a start when the hoot of a bird passed by overhead.
Shiiiit. This was very bad.
You kept moving forward on what you thought was the trail. That was all you could do, keep moving forward. You made a few turns around some trees, occasionally calling out for Sunny, or Mary, or anyone to hear you.
The panic was back now, full force, and you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. And when you turned another corner, you screamed when you bumped into someone.
A girl’s scream echoed just as loudly as yours in the big, empty wood, but you got ahold of yourself, literally with a hand over your wildly beating heart when you realized who you’d run into.
“Emily!” you uttered. The girl let out a breath of relief to see you too. You went to her and pulled her into a hug, and she hugged you back.
“Thank. God,” she said. Her voice sounded tight with emotion, and you held her a bit tighter.
“It’s okay,” you rubbed her back. “How long’ve you been out here?”
“I don’t know,” she shook her head, pulling away from you. “Couple of hours? Maybe longer.”
You nodded and expelled a breath. Poor thing looked tired. She didn’t even have any supplies with her. You gave her a protein bar from your backpack before you two started walking.
“So the good news is, we found each other. The bad news is, we’re still lost,” you said, counting each item on your fingers. “But the good news also is, I’ve only been walking for about…half an hour or so. I’m thinking we can mark trees or other landmarks as we pass them, like checking them off, so we know where we’ve been.”
Emily glanced at you with a smile. “You’re a checklist person, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely!” you agreed. “Checking things off is satisfying. But it’s also good just to take an inventory of where we’re at.”
You two kept walking for a while. Emily explained that she’d been following Luke, who took off by himself after giving her an ominous warning.
“There are some bad people on this trip. Want my advice? Get the hell out of here,” he’d said.
You frowned in concern. You’d felt that there was something fishy about that guy, pretty much from the moment he and Paige disappeared on that hike. Those newcomers he’d been hanging out with ever since, Tonya and Donno…maybe they had something to do with it.
They’d left camp today to go into town, claiming to check on the restaurant they owned and ran. But with everything now starting to come into perspective, you couldn’t take any piece of information at face value around here.
Suddenly, Emily stopped short.
“What’s…” Your words trailed as you followed her line of vision. There was a frilly pair of underwear on the ground.
That led to a hoodie strewn in the dirt and dead leaves. You continued on, until you found Mary, lying on her back on the cold ground. You and Emily gasped her name, but you moved first, dropping to your knees at Mary’s side. You pressed a hand to her cheek and found it cold.
You moved two fingers to the pulse point at her neck, but there was nothing. No life in her. Your mouth fell open in a silent, shocked cry.
“Mary? Honey, can you hear me?” you tried, shaking her shoulders. When she remained unresponsive, tears burned in your eyes and blurred your vision. You finally saw a dark patch of wet pooled out from under her body.
“Oh my God,” Emily said, voicing your thoughts. She was panicked. “Oh God, she’s…she’s…”
You turned to her and wanted to say, Don’t look.
You had briefly taught highschoolers before you became a college professor. You were used to looking out for your students, and as the adult here, you wanted to shield the teen from the sight of this, no matter how much your mind was spinning.
Before you could say anything, Emily fled the clearing with a scream.
“Emily!” you shouted after her. You glanced back at Mary in desperation, but you forced yourself onto your feet and ran after the girl.
You had slightly longer legs, but she was fast. You only caught up to her because she screamed louder, after running into Buck leading a horse through the woods. She grabbed onto him while you caught your breath behind her.
“What? What happened?” Buck asked. You laid a supportive hand on Emily’s shoulder, and she turned back to you with tearful eyes.
“Mary,” you managed, despite the coarseness in your voice. “She’s…”
This isn’t real, you thought. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.
“She’s dead,” Emily finished for you. “Someone killed her.”
Buck’s eyes widened in shock. All he could say was…
“Show me.”
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Buck brought Mary’s body back to camp on the back of his horse. The three of you walked in silence all the way there. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her lifeless body. It was wrong. And if you did, you knew you’d collapse.
Emily was likely in shock as well. Her arm was looped through yours, though you weren’t sure who was steadying who.
Thanks to Carla, the police were already on the way to Sunny Day Excursions. When you reached the camp, Carla beelined for her daughter. Despite how happy she was to see her mom, Emily was a bit reluctant to let go of you, seeing how shaken you were, but you encouraged her wordless to go to her mother.
Carla pulled Emily into a tight hug, kissing the side of her head, and asked if she was all right. Emily just shook her head and pressed her face into her mom’s shoulder. Carla looked up at you with a relieved sigh.
“Thank you,” she said.
You gave her teary smile of your own. You couldn’t speak though, especially when Buck passed by with Mary still on the back of his horse. Sunny gasped and grabbed a blanket to cover the body with.
She then went to you, whispering, “You poor dear. Come ‘ere, sit by the fire.”
She covered your shoulders with another blanket and steered you to sit by the bonfire in the center of camp. You stayed there and stared at the flames. All the while, you didn’t feel the warmth. You didn’t feel the silent tears that slid down your face and dropped into your lap.
“Where’s Luke?” you heard Avery ask.
“That’s a good question,” said Sunny. She turned to her husband. “Buck?”
“I don’t know, but somebody better find him,” he replied grimly.
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It was another hour before the police arrived.
You still hadn’t moved from your spot in front of the bonfire on a hard bench, but it was Cormack who gently asked you if you wanted to go back to your tent to relax until the police got around to talking to you about what happened.
You’d agreed, silently, and he helped you up. But you found that you could go no further than the couple of steps that brought you onto the platform outside of your tent. The tent you’d shared with Mary.
You couldn’t go in, and Cormack seemed to realize that. He helped you lower down to sit on the platform, with your dirty sneakers planted on the step below. He gave you a cup of hot tea as well, which you held with both hands and sipped slowly.
You only raised your head when you heard Emily’s voice exclaim in happiness. You watched her run to her father, the Sheriff. He welcomed his daughter into his arms and held her tight. Relief was painted all over his face. You heard the rumble of his voice asking her if she was all right. She just burrowed closer in the safety of his arms.
A blonde policewoman had come with him, along with a whole unit of officers. She went to question Buck and Sunny first, while Beau handled Emily, then Avery and Carla. It didn’t seem like a pleasant conversation, between the two men especially.
Don’t stare, you reminded yourself. You lowered your gaze to the dusty bottom stair between your feet. Your vision started to glaze over the longer you focused on that spot. You weren’t lost in thought. You were just…blank. This entire night still didn’t feel real.
Mary’s last words kept ringing through your mind…
“Look, I’m sorry for everything, okay?” she’d said. “I know I can be a brat sometimes…but we can talk more when I get back.”
You were interrupted from your reverie when two brown boots entered your line of vision. You looked up, and Beau Arlen was there to greet you with a look of sympathy. And yet, there was a professional set to his face that let you know you were about to be formally questioned about Mary’s death.
“Is that spot taken?” Beau asked, pointing to the space beside you on the platform. You shook your head and scooched over, so he could sit down. He sighed on his way there, greeting you with polite familiarity.
“Sheriff,” you nodded back. You set aside your mug of tea and crossed your arms, holding yourself against the chill.
You’d left the blanket by the bonfire, and your sweater had been stained with blood, after helping Buck set Mary’s body on the horse. You’d ripped the sweater off as soon as you got to camp, leaving you in just your undershirt.
“You need a jacket,” Beau remarked. He glanced back at your tent, as if he was wondering why you hadn’t gone inside to grab one. But his gaze was perceptive. Instead of asking, he shrugged out of his faux fur-lined leather jacket and draped it around your shoulders.
“Here, you can borrow this for now,” he said.
“Thank you,” you spoke in a small voice. You grasped one edge of the jacket and pulled it closer around you. It smelled like musky cologne and old leather.
Beau waved off his gesture of kindness.
“I hear you found my daughter in the woods and tried to get her back to camp,” he said. “Thank you for that.”
You glanced over at him, and tears once again shone in your eyes.
“I’m sorry she had to see…”
Beau’s gaze was heavy as he sighed and nodded again in agreement.
“I’m sorry you had to see it too,” he said. “And I’m sorry for your loss. For your friend.”
You took in a shuddering breath. New tears found familiar paths down your cheeks.
“Best friend, since college,” you said.
Beau took that in, before he asked you about the day’s events. You had to explain about Mary going missing first, then Emily, and finally Luke, who still hadn’t been found. You told everything you knew from your perspective.
When you were done, Beau reluctantly asked about the Mary and Luke situation. Your lips pursed, but your upset wasn’t at the sheriff. You knew he had to ask these questions.
“We argued about it,” you admitted. “Me and Mary. I warned her not to get involved with him, and the way Paige left camp was just one of many…but still, I should’ve been there. I shouldn’t have let her go into the woods alone! I should’ve gone with her!”
By the end, your whole body wracked with sobs. You covered your face with your hands to try and get some semblance of composure, but you just couldn’t keep it together.
“Okay, okay,” Beau said gently. He laid a hand on your back and rubbed back and forth. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I am.”
You sucked in a few tremulous breaths, sniffling. You looked up at him with red, watery eyes. He gave you a half smile. 
“Sorry,” he repeated, this time for the endearment. “Like I said, got a bad habit of doin’ that.”
You shook your head with a weak curve of your lips, despite how your lower lip wobbled. 
“It’s okay,” you said. 
But it wasn’t. Nothing was. 
You didn’t think you’d ever be okay again.
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AN: 😥 I'm sorry about Mary, but I promise, it's all for a purpose, besides following canon. But let me know what you think! There will be much more of the reader and Beau in the next chapter, though you may not expect how their next meeting comes about...
Next Time:
“We’re gonna start here in a few minutes, but until then, you can take a seat,” said Tom. “There’s also coffee and cookies over there, if you like.”
Coffee. Coffee was warm, and it might settle your nerves and help you perk up a bit. You thanked him and went for the carafes on a small table in the back. You poured some coffee into a Styrofoam cup and poured a little sugar and creamer into it, but after you took an experimental sip, you immediately regretted it.
Tastes like damn soil water! You made a grossed out sound and spat it back into your cup.
“Yeah, wouldn’t recommend the joe,” drawled a familiar voice. 
You turned sharply to find Sheriff Beau Arlen.
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
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charmed-asylum · 1 day
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Dammmmn mm mm mm there more there must be more to this convo, one if it was a simple whymove so far be so emotional there more I feel it oh oh oh I’m happy someone saw that connect owww!!! Hehe he damn that was such a great chapter I was addicted and hook 2 seconds in like damn. I wonder what gonna happen to Mary is she gonna come tho would she see Emily again.
Take Me Home - Part 1
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Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 
Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 
AN: Welcome to my first ever Big Sky series! I’ve been wanting to get to this for a while now. I’m so glad I finally get to start sharing this with you! I truly hope you enjoy the ride. (Note: This is set towards the beginning of season 3.)
Song Inspo: “Fly Away” by John Denver. And remember, you can listen to the full Take Me Home Playlist ⬅️ here.
Word Count: 4,400
Tags/Warnings: A bit of angst, a bit of setup, “Glamper Girl,” and a side helping of cops enjoying baked goods…
❤️ Series Masterlist
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Part 1: All of Her Days
“This really feels like cheating,” you mused.
Yet again, you surveyed the sheer size and luxury of this tent you were supposed to be “camping” in.
Between the giant king-sized bed with crème and burgundy comforters, a two-seater dining table, a dresser (with a vanity), and even a small bookshelf, it looked like the Taj Mahal of glamping.
“Can’t you just enjoy it?” your best friend replied, poking a teasing finger into your side. She smirked when you flinched and gave her some playful side-eye. “My parents are the ones footing the bill, anyway.”
“Of which, I intend to pay them back for my half,” you said. Mary just rolled her eyes and waved you off. Her parents’ money was something she’d never had a problem spending.
“Come on, they’re getting ready to go on the hike without us,” she said, tossing her little purse over her shoulder. You were a bit more practical with your backpack, filled with a bottle of water, a couple snacks, bug spray, and your sketch pad.
Mary bumped your shoulder with hers as you two walked out of the tent, and you gave her a smile. You were glad she insisted on this little week-long excursion. It gave you exactly five more days to enjoy the fresh air of no responsibilities, before you returned to reality.
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“So where are you guys from?” you asked a couple of walking companions on the early-morning hike.
The woods of Helena, Montana were vast and deep, and you found them a bit intimidating. You were a city girl, through and through, but you were learning to appreciate the mountains and the steep trails flanked by dense trees. You were also grateful that you weren’t alone. 
Emily seemed to be a nice girl around sixteen, while her stepfather Avery was a lightly graying man in his 40s. You pegged his accent as English, the “casual posh” kind. On a scale from Dame Maggie Smith to Dick Van Dyke's attempt at cockney, you’d put Avery on a Benedict Cumberbatch level.
“Well, I met her mother in Houston,” Avery replied, nodding at the girl beside you. “She and Emily joined me here in Helena after we were married this past spring.”
Emily confirmed with a nod. “Yep, starting school here in a few months.”
At that, you could smile. “Me too, actually.”
Emily gave you a confused look while she fiddled with an app on her phone.
“What? You’re still in school?” she asked.
“No,” you laughed. “I’m—”
“She’s a college professor,” Mary tacked on. “AKA: a giant nerd.”
Emily tried not to smile at your expense. You just shook your head at your friend.
“Thanks,” you said wryly, despite your amusement. “We can’t all be personal trainers. One can only take so much Spandex.”
Mary rolled her eyes and prepared to fire back a retort, but your attention shifted back to Emily, who seemed to be debating whether to press a red button on her phone. You thought it looked like a voice recording app.
You followed her line of vision and saw Paige and Luke up ahead—a young “happy couple” here at Sunny Day Excursions. They were whisper-yelling at each other, sniping something about Luke’s birthday. Apparently, he had a problem with getting another year older.
Don’t we all, you thought, with no small amount of sarcasm. The guy had been a sour apple since the start of this trip, and to be honest, he was starting to get on your damn nerves.
“This is like, prime time stuff for my podcast,” Emily whispered.
You looked over at her. “Oh yeah? What’s your podcast about?”
“Relationships, lies, that sort of thing,” she replied.
You almost grimaced. Good luck finding willing subjects for that one.
Mary snickered on your other side. She leaned close to your ear so only you would hear.
“God, Paige’s voice is so effing annoying. Like a chipmunk on helium,” she said. “I feel sorry for him.”
You shot her a dry look. “He’s the one asking for it, if you ask me. But they’ve been going at it the whole time. Makes me feel sorry for both of them.”
You shook your head and kept walking on the trail. Mary sobered as she stared back at you. She was reminded of why you two were really here, and what you’d been through this past year…
What you all had been through.
You and Mary fell behind Avery and Emily on the trail, giving Mary the opportunity to touch your arm and stop you in the middle of the trail.
“Do you really plan to stay here?” she asked. “In dusty-ass Montana? With the snakes and the bears and the old hicks?”
“Well, I got the key to my apartment before we got here,” you said. And she knew that. “My aunt is letting me crash with her until the rest of my things ship over in a couple of weeks, and I start a new job in the fall. So yeah, I’m staying.”
Mary’s lips pursed. She gave you a long look, but you held your ground. You even popped your Airpods in for good measure. You were done with this conversation.
She huffed and kept walking.
You watched your friend go in annoyance. You knew she would try to talk you out of your decision at some point on this trip, but you hadn’t expected it to be so soon.
Heaving a sigh, you looked up at the clear sky above you, filtered through the tall trees. You took a moment to collect yourself in this great big no man’s land, where you could finally let yourself slow down for a minute, and breathe.
You raised the volume in your Airpods when a particular song came through.
“All of her days have gone soft and cloudy. All of her dreams have gone dry,” crooned the soft melody. You nodded to the rhythm of the mellow notes, but all the while, you tried to blink through the sting of tears.
“All of her nights have gone sad and shady. She's getting ready to fly…”
You rubbed your left hand, where you still had the tan line of the ring you used to wear.
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“It’s really okay, sweetie,” Mary tried to console you, rubbing her hand between your shoulders.
After the hike, you all had returned to camp and sat down to brunch. It was an amazing spread, with waffles and muffins and Danishes, eggs done three different ways, toast with jam, assorted sandwiches, coffee and orange juice (and sparkling wine for the adults).
But even with a huge plate of appetizing food in front of you, you were sulking a bit. You had your face covered by your hands as you rested your elbows on the table.
“One of my only goals on this trip was to ride a damn horse, and I couldn’t even do that,” you said.
Sunny Barnes and her husband Buck were the heads and hosts of this whole trip. And after the hike, their son, Cormack, had tried to help you onto the nice chestnut mare the handler had brought out of the stable for you. But your entire body had locked up in fear at the prospect of being vaulted onto the horse.
In fairness, she was huge. And you were both afraid of heights, and animals that could buck you off its back and trample you.
You hadn’t been able to speak. You just shook your head vigorously every time Cormack asked you if you were okay.
So he’d graciously patted your back and gave the mare to Emily instead.
“I’ve never been able to ride a horse either,” Avery offered in commiseration. You lowered your hands and gave him a wan smile.
Emily was carving an apple with an impressive (and somewhat scary) looking pocketknife. She shrugged.
“It’s not so hard,” she said. But, perhaps realizing how she sounded, she looked up and gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry. I mean, I’m sure you’ll get it! It’s hard in the beginning, but once you get used to it, it’s like riding a bike.”
Right. A bike with hooves, you thought, ripping a piece of bread from your egg and cheese sandwich.
Mary bumped your shoulder with a teasing smile. “You just got showed up by a high schooler. Again.”
You pursed your lips in amusement. You tossed the piece of bread. It hit her dead between the eyes. You giggled at the way she jumped with a start.
“Real mature,” she shot back.
“Yeah,” you replied, taking a giant bite of your sandwich for good measure. “I learned from you.”
Even Emily snickered, making Mary roll her eyes in amusement.
Shortly after, Avery and his stepdaughter were finished with brunch and got up to get back to their tents.
You glanced over and noticed that Emily had left her knife on the table, now closed in its sheath.
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Sheriff Beau Arlen may have still been relatively new in town, but he considered himself a consummate professional.
He’d agreed to accompany Cassie, the local private investigator (and his friend), up to this mountain pass to look for a missing backpacker. Questioning Buck and Sunny Barnes and their crew was just good old-fashioned, thorough police work.
But if it also gave Beau a chance to check on his daughter up here “glamping” with her half-baked stepfather, then he couldn’t pass up on that opportunity, now could he?
After talking to Buck and Sunny, who hadn’t seen hide or hair of the backpacker, Beau let Cassie take care of questioning Cormack Barnes while Beau found his daughter outside her tent. After giving her a big hug and inspecting her “tent” (Really? he thought. Looks more like a hotel room than a tent.), he asked her how her trip was going so far.
“Good, Dad. But you really didn’t have to come all the way out here just to check up on me,” Emily said. She was amused, but no longer surprised to see him.
“No, no, no. I didn’t, okay?” Beau refuted. Though at the look on her face, he knew he wasn’t fooling her. She was a sharp kid. “All right, maybe not the only reason. We had to talk to Sunny about a missing backpacker. It’s something Cassie’s investigating.”
Emily’s amusement faded into surprise, and then concern.
“Wait, what?” she said.
“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. Just, you know…parents probably didn’t get the memo that ‘off-the-grid’ was part of the deal,” he said, giving her a meaningful raise of his brows. Maybe his daughter didn’t have to screen so many of his calls while she was on this trip.
“Overprotective parents, huh?” Emily dryly remarked.
“The worst,” Beau agreed, shaking his head.
But he smiled. Just seeing her made his whole week better…and it alleviated some of the hurt in his heart. Not getting to be with her on a trip like this stung. And knowing Avery was the one who got to be there for her grated on him.
Beau was already missing too much of his daughter’s life, and he still wasn’t too sure on how to deal with that.
Speak of the devil, he thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Avery approaching. Beau forced himself to look as close to pleasant as he could get around his ex-wife’s husband.
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While Mary went back to the tent to freshen up, you grabbed Emily’s pocketknife and went to look for her so you could return it. It had a wood-carved hilt and had her initials, E. A., engraved on the side. The knife looked special, not the kind of thing you wanted to lose.
You found her outside her tent with her stepfather, and a man you didn’t know. He had broad shoulders and short brown hair that swept above his brow. When he turned to look at you, the first thing you noticed was the cut of his bearded chin, and then the green of his eyes.
You didn’t realize it, but your insides stilled, just for a moment. Then you remembered to smile.
Avery looked a bit tense, as did the newcomer. You sensed you were interrupting a tete-a-tete. 
“Uh, hi. I’m sorry,” you said, and extended the sheathed knife toward Emily. “Just wanted to get this back to you. You left it at the table.”
“Oh! Thanks,” Emily said gratefully.
“Well, hi there,” said the new guy. He was tall, you noted, wearing a beige jacket over a buttoned-down shirt, some jeans, and boots. It was a casual look, but all worked very well for him…in a rugged cowboy sense.
“This is my dad,” Emily supplied.
“Sheriff Beau Arlen, ma’am,” he said, giving you a more friendly smile that you matched in kind when you shook his hand. You also gave him your name to go along with it.
“You here for a little belated vacation, Sheriff?” you added.
“No. Matter of fact, I’m here on police business,” he replied. That concerned you, but he was quick to wave a dismissive hand. “Everything’s okay here. Just checking on a missing backpacker. But it looks like we’ll have to continue our search for him elsewhere.”
You hummed at that in concern. “Well, I hope you find him.”
“I do too,” he agreed with a nod.
Then, Emily took the slight pause in the conversation as her chance to escape.
“Okay, Dad, well, we’re gonna go hike down to the lake,” she said, gesturing at Avery. “But as you can see, I’m fine. We’re fine.”
Beau’s smile became a bit tight, but he nodded in understanding. He gave her a big hug, and you could see he was reluctant to let her go. Avery stood behind them. He held tension in his shoulders. You felt a bit awkward yourself, being in the midst of what was clearly an uneasy family dynamic.
Beau released his daughter. After she took off with Avery following close behind, Beau turned to you next. You tried not to blush at the sight of his handsome face.
“Sorry, again,” you said, raising a placating hand. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
His lips twitched upward, and he shook his head. “You’re fine. Though you don’t look like a local. You from outta town?”
I could say the same thing about you, cowboy, you thought. There was a slight southern drawl in his voice that sounded like Alabama. Maybe Texas?
“You got me,” you nodded. “I’m from Chicago originally, but…I’ve actually just moved here to Helena.”
“Ahh, a city girl,” he remarked. “Small world. I just got here a few months ago myself. Houston, Texas.”
Your smile brightened. Right on the money.
“Yeah, I figured,” you couldn’t help teasing him a little. His grin kicked up in the corner.
“How’re the mountains and fresh air treating you then?” he asked. “Better than that blanket a’ smog in Chicago.”
“We do not have smog…or, well, not that much,” you laughed, “but yes, I’m actually really liking it here so far. I mean, I just got here about a week ago. I’m still learning. Though Emily actually tried to help me ride a horse today.”
“Yeah?” His brows raised. “How’d that go?”
You had to laugh. A kind of self-deprecating laugh that had you half-covering your face to stem off your blush.
“Not well,” you admitted.
Beau ducked his head with a smile. He met your eyes in amusement, but not without kindness.
“Well, here’s a tip for ya,” he said. He planted his feet, held his hands up into lightly clenched fists. “The trick is in the legs. Grip tight, but not too tight. He’ll think you’re rarin’ to go.”
You blinked a bit wider. Was that just honest advice…or was he sort of flirting with you?
It made you blush in earnest.
“Ah. Good to know,” you said with a laugh. He treated you with a tip of his imaginary hat.
“Hey,” someone called out.
Both of your heads turned to a tall black woman with long curly hair. She gave you a polite smile before she nodded up at Beau.
“You ready to go?” she asked.
“Ah, yep,” Beau nodded. He gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry, gotta get back to the station.”
“Oh, of course,” you said. But you held up a finger. “Wait, just a sec.”
You hastened back over to the table of confections from brunch and offered them a chocolate chip muffin each for the road. Cassie politely declined, but Beau gladly took his.
“Although, are you trying to stereotype me or somethin’?” he teased.
Your brows furrowed in confusion, but after a moment, it hit you. You’d just given a cop a baked good.  
“At least it wasn’t a donut,” you quipped, despite your embarrassment. Beau still looked bemused, but he let you off the hook.
“That’s okay. I’ve never been known to turn down free food,” he assured.
“He really doesn’t,” Cassie confirmed. You noticed how she was waiting, arms crossed.
“Well, there you go! Sorry for keeping you,” you said.
“Not at all, darlin’,” said Beau. His smile had a charming gleam. “Nice to meet you.”
You quirked a smile back. “Wow, you are from Texas.”
You didn’t think you’d ever been called darlin’ in your life.
Beau’s good humor shifted into slight embarrassment himself.
“Sorry. I’ve been told to stop doing that,” he said. When he chuckled, you did along with him. You weren’t offended by it, just surprised by the old-fashioned endearment.
“It’s okay,” you said. “Nice to meet you too, Sheriff.”
You raised a hand in goodbye, and Beau returned it, watching you go. Meanwhile, Cassie watched him with a small smirk. He stepped down from the short platform in front of Emily’s tent to meet her.
“Were you just checking out Glamper Girl? In front of your daughter, no less,” Cassie remarked.
Beau shot her a look of denial. “I did no such thing. I’m a professional. And a gentleman, mind you.”
Cassie rose a brow at him. It stirred up a bit of his defensiveness. 
“But, I’ll have you know that Em had already moved on when I had a friendly conversation with the glamper,” he said.
Cassie rolled her eyes. Right.
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That afternoon, you decided to bring your sketchpad and your modest collection of paints to the lake. You sat on the bank and tried to paint, while Mary joined the others in swimming.
“That looks nice,” Emily’s voice startled you from behind.
You twisted to look at her, and she gave you an apologetic look. She was dressed to go for a swim in a one-piece bathing suit and some shorts. She seemed more of a conservative dresser than typical high school girls her age. Maybe that had something to do with a policeman being her father, or maybe that was just her personality.
“Sorry,” she said, raising her hands.
“It’s okay.” You waved it off and gestured for her to sit beside you if she wanted. She did so, admiring your work over your shoulder. You felt a little embarrassed by it, but you didn’t mind her watching you try to paint ripples of light on the water.
“Are you an artist?” she asked.
You shot her a smile. “You’re very sweet, but no. I just started this year.”
You’d just Googled some therapeutic techniques instead of, you know, going to therapy. You just knew that if you did, your aunt would probably tell your parents, who would never let you hear the end of it. Specifically, why it was a waste of time. Your father especially would have something to say.
But one of the sources you found suggested trying out some creative outlets to calm the mind and think productively, but not create more stress for yourself. You’d tried a few different things, but landed on painting. It was working for you so far, even if you didn’t think you were that good.
“How do you like Montana so far?” you asked your companion. “Your dad told me you guys just moved here too, a few months ago.”
“Yeah, when my mom got remarried, my dad moved to stay close to me,” Emily explained.
Your brows raised. Your painting hand paused with the brush near the page.
“Well, that’s a good father,” you said. You smiled at the thought of Beau Arlen. The way he hugged his daughter before, like she was his entire world, and the fact that he’d moved entire states just to stay with her, told you a great deal about the town’s new sheriff.
Emily nodded, but her lips were pressed. “He’s a bit overprotective.”
“Well, he is a cop,” You said, smiling. “I assume that’s just part of the package.”
“I get that,” she said. “It’s just…a bit much sometimes.”
You gave her a sympathetic look. “I understand. My dad can be like that too. He’s got his soft moments, but he can be a real tough nut too… He’s a retired fireman.”
“Wow, that’s cool,” Emily said. She looked impressed. “Did you ever want to be a firefighter?”
You chuckled. “No, and he never wanted me to. It just wasn’t my beat, anyway.”
In the many years before your father had risen in the ranks to firehouse chief, your mother had often worried about him when he was on shift. Being a firefighter in inner-city Chicago had brought some hard and dangerous calls.
But you had always been more bookish, and both your parents were grateful for that.
You sighed. Your paintbrush made a stroke of deep green on the page, creating darker shades in the bottom of the lake.
“I did end up dating one though. Almost married him too,” you muttered, before you could stop yourself. You forgot you were talking to an insatiably curious girl.
“Really? What happened?” she asked. You looked over at her, and she was staring at you with her full attention. You remembered then that her podcast was supposed to be about relationships, but you had no desire to be a subject.
“It didn’t work out,” you said at last, and with difficulty.
“Why?” Emily asked.
Your internal struggle kept you quiet. It gave time for Emily to really see the withdrawn, almost pained look on your face, the slight hunch of your shoulders. She deflated guiltily.
“Uh, sorry,” she said.
You offered a small smile. “It’s okay, honey.”
“I’ll uh, just let you get back to painting,” she said. You waved her goodbye after she got up and left, giving you one last look before she joined her stepfather in the lake.
You let out a deep breath. The teen was tenacious, and naturally curious. That in itself wasn’t such a bad thing. But as you watched her splash at Avery, laughing that weightless laugh that kids got to have, you realized how much you missed being that young and free in your heart.
Again, out of habit, you set down your brush and rubbed at your empty left ring finger.
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Mary finally joined you back in your shared tent after a long night of socializing by the fire. You had kept to the tent, reading Much Ado About Nothing for one of your classes that would start in the fall. It wasn’t your first time reading the Shakespeare play, by any means, but you did want to brush up on it.
“You know, you’re actually supposed to be vacationing on this vacation,” Mary pointed out. She started changing into her pajamas for bed. You were already cozy in one of your old college hoodies and some shorts, not to mention snuggled under the warm blankets.
“I am,” you said defensively. “I hiked, I painted, I ate no less than one burger, a basket of fries, and three smores, and now I’m reading.”
“Yeah, for school,” she pointed out. “I may not be as smart as you, but I know homework when I see it.”
You shot her a smile. “You’re plenty smart, M.”
She snorted and slipped into bed beside you. It felt like the sleepovers you two used to have in college, years ago, when she’d come to crash in your dorm, or you in hers. She’d been a philosophy major (despite not giving two shits about Socrates), forced to attend college by her parents. You were an English major, working three part-time jobs just to get you through until graduation.
“Hey,” she said, laying a hand on your shoulder. You turned to her in question. She seemed more serious than usual.
“I’m worried about you,” she said. “And I’m not the only one.”
You sighed. Lowering your book, you leaned back against your pillows and stared up at the tent’s fairy lights.
“I know,” you replied. “But you don’t need to be.”
“Yeah you keep saying that, but you know the real reason I’m here, right?” Mary asked. Her insistent hand on your arm made you meet her eyes.
“You don’t have to do this," she said. "You don’t have to move out here and leave everything behind. You should just come home with me. Your parents, our friends—everyone wants to be there for you, like we have all year.”
Your lips pursed, and you shook your head.
“I’m not going to change my mind. So if that’s really why you’re here, and not to just spend some time with me, as my friend, then you should just go home,” you said. “I’ll leave here and go to my aunt’s house. I’m sure your parents can negotiate some kind of refund.”
Mary got angry and huffy, just like you thought she would. You weren’t playing around though. This was your life, and your decision.
If your friends and your family couldn’t be happy for you, or at least understanding, then they could at least respect you. You just weren’t sure when they’d get the hint that this was real.
You were moving to Montana, permanently.
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On the drive back into town from the camping site, Beau ate his chocolate chip muffin and tried his best to listen to Cassie—to her theories on where the backpacker might’ve gone, and how best to tell the parents to keep her on this investigation.
A good part of him was still thinking about his daughter, wishing he could be there with her right now. 
And maybe, his mind occasionally wandered…thinking about the pretty shade of your eyes when you smiled at him.
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AN: And there we have it, Part 1 of a new series! If you liked it, please let me know! 🥰
And a special Happy Birthday to @jackles010378! 💖 I was going to say we're both Aries (mine is next month) but forgot Pisces comes first lol. ♓
Next Time:
The trees were tall and dark now. The moon was filtering through them like the sun had during other day hikes, but it was much more ominous at night.
“Shit,” you muttered. You gripped your flashlight in worry as panic started to well up in your chest.
Now you were lost.
You jumped with a start when the hoot of a bird passed by overhead.
Shiiiit. This was very bad.
You kept moving forward on what you thought was the trail. That was all you could do, keep moving forward. You made a few turns around some trees, occasionally calling out for Sunny, or Mary, or anyone to hear you.
▶️ Keep Reading: Part 2
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
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charmed-asylum · 1 day
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awww so cute so cute love it
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Dean working even after coming from office. So adorable.
Giving me “The One that got away” vibes🥰🥰
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Dean came home later for the third time this week.
You worriedly watched him enter your shared apartment.
He looked tired, but the first thing he did was kiss your lips and call you sweetheart.
Dean grabbed a beer and walked inside your shared bedroom to relax his sore body.
"What are you doing, babe?" You watched him open his laptop to work some more.
"I gotta finish that contract but didn't want to stay at the office," he looked up from his laptop to wink at you. "The company is much cuter and sexier at home."
"How can I help you?" you hopped on the bed to sit next to Dean and glanced at his laptop. "Oh, the Singer contract. How about you have a shower and I help you?"
"You're an angel," he dipped his head to peck your cheek. "Give me twenty more minutes and I'm done."
"Okay," you kneeled on the bed to kiss his temple. "I'll order your favorite food and pie. While we wait, you can have a warm bath."
"Hmm...a warm bath with my girl," he purred, the contract long forgotten. Dean shoved the laptop off his lap and left the bed, holding out his hand. "I'll get up a little bit earlier and take care of the contract. Let's have that warm bath right now..."
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charmed-asylum · 1 day
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Man o man was this a popcorn and pop type of chapter ahhhh omg omg omg omg okg omg omg I can’t breathe I can’t see I can’t hear only my beating heart rn ahhhhhhhh 🤯🤯🤯 but it worth it. 1st oh oh Pham might look all innocent but he a force to be reckoned with and I love it ( drop back onto chair dramatically with a hand over my eyes) he was so struck and firm and no bullshit to take. Oh oh oh oh mom a mess I swear I had this debate with many people I don’t like Mary bc she would never ever admit what she does wrong like wtf and u got Dean the mommy and daddy soldier. I’m happy tho Sam pulled that shit out of him like nope your gonna tell me right now missy and then omg the end I swear I love the son he so adorable like ahhh can’t even lie I’m almost cried
Designed by pain (4)
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Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?
Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, language, implied break-up, angry Sam, Mary bashing
A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.
Designed by pain masterlist
Designed by pain (3)
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“Sammy, I can’t just go to her hotel and ask her to forgive me or take me back,” Dean mutters under his breath. Sam talked him into confronting Mary and to talk to you before you got the chance to fly back home.
“Dean, this is your only chance. We will talk to mother and ask her if she has anything to do with the missing note. After we clarified that our mother is the worst,” Sam snorts at Dean’s pained expression. “What? We both know our parents are the perfect example of a failed marriage and selfishness.”
“Do you honestly believe Mother had something to do with the missing note?” Dean asks. He still doesn’t want to believe his mother would do such a thing.
“Yes, I believe she is behind all of this. Mother invited Lisa, and she distracted you. Hell, she even refused to acknowledge Y/N’s presence.” Sam throws his hands up. “Wake up. Our mother is a manipulative mastermind.”
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“I’m going to ask you this only once, Mother,” Sam stalks toward his mother. He straightens his back and tries to look even more intimating as he dwarfs his mother. “Did you steal the note Y/N left that night eight years ago? Yes or no.”
“Samuel, where is this coming from out of a sudden? How dare you come here to attack your own flesh and blood like that,” Mary sniffles. “I can’t believe my son talks like that to me.”
“I guess this means yes, Dean.”
“Mother, what did the note say?” Dean pleadingly looks at his mother. “I know you wanted me to get back together with Lisa, but please, I need to know if you took the note Y/N left.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she snaps at her son. “If you’d excuse me now. I got better things to do than letting my sons walk all over me.”
“Stop!” Sam blocks his mother’s path when she tries to leave the room. “You will answer Dean’s question. I know you don’t care that you ruined his relationship with Y/N and that he lost the woman he loved that night. But I will not let you ruin the one chance he got with Y/N.”
“Samuel,” she sniffs and wipes a fake tear off her cheek. “I didn’t take a note. I saw the ring, that’s all.”
“So, you admit that you entered their room that night,” Sam takes a step toward his mother and another. “Answer my question. Did you enter their room and take the note.” He gets louder with every word. “YES OR NO MOTHER!”
“YES!” She sneers. “I never liked that woman. She was no good for your brother. I invited Lisa to make him see what he was missing out. I took the note and left the ring. It was for the best.”
“What did she write?” Dean asks again. “I need to know.”
“I don’t remember,” she shrugs. “I burned the note, and that’s the end of the story. You should thank me.”
“You are dead to me,” Dean shakes his head when Mary tries to touch his arm. “You ruined the best thing ever happening to me. I can’t believe I was too blind to see that you’re a manipulative bitch.”
Dean turns on his heels and storms out of the house. He gets into his car to drive toward your hotel, forgetting about his brother and his hurt pride. He’ll try to get you back. No matter what.”
“Now that Dean is gone,” Sam’s voice is dangerously low as he leans closer. “You will tell me what she wrote. If not, I’ll make sure John will hear about your dirty little secret.” He smirks darkly when his mother whimpers. “The pool boy…”
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Dean didn’t make it in time. When he arrived at your hotel, you already checked out. He drove as fast as possible, pushing his beloved car to its limit, but it was no use. 
The airplane was in the air, and you were gone. Once again, he came too late…
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“Mommy!” Your son runs toward you, giggling and laughing when you pick him up and twirl him around. “How was your flight? Did you get me something cool?”
“I got you something cool,” you whisper and peck his hair. “Look inside my back, baby. You’ll love it. Uncle Bobby got it for you.”
“Cool,” your son opens your bag to find another classic car model. It’s a 1967er Impala. A split-image of Dean’s car. The one your son wanted since he found an old picture of Dean and his car. “I love it, mommy.”
“I know baby,” you run your hand over his hair. You sigh but shake the sadness off. Seeing Dean after so many years hurt you more than you thought possible. “Let’s have dinner before we look for the perfect spot for the car.”
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Your son was fast asleep while sleeping soundly on the couch. After dinner, and a long conversation with your son about cars, and the airplane he drew, you fell asleep on the couch.
The last days drained all the energy out of you, and you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that Dean had the guts to blame you for leaving. He even lied about the note you left.
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Dean wrings his hands. He debates whether to use the number he got from Charlie or not. What if you don’t take his call? What if you don’t believe his mother stole the note you left?
He takes a deep breath and dials your number, waiting for you to pick up the phone.
Dean closes his eyes, holding his breath when you take the call.
 "Hello, this is Ms. Y/L/N phone you are speaking to. I'm Michael Joseph Y/L/N, how can I help you?" Dean gasps at the other end of the line, whilst he tries to find his voice. He didn’t expect a child to answer his call.
"Hi, I'm Dean Winchester and I wanted to talk to your aunt Y/N Y/L/N..."
"That’s my mother, Sir. My aunt lives in France. I'm afraid my mother fell asleep on the couch. I'm asking you to call again in the morning."
"You're Y/N's son, huh?" Nosy Dean tries to get more information. "How old are you buddy? When is your birthday?"
"Why do you want to know?” your son asks. “Mom said not to tell strangers more about me. I don’t know you, so you are a stranger.”
“Uh-I’m an old friend of your mom. I’d like to give you something for your birthday,” Dean feels bad for lying to a child, but he can’t stop now.
“I'm seven, Sir. But I'll turn eight soon...well in a few months." Your son politely answers while Dean tries to remember how to do mathematics. His heart races and his jaw goes slack realizing he's got a child...with you. "Shall I tell my mom you called?"
"No, it's okay, buddy. I'll call her later..." Dean hastily says. The last thing he wants is for you to know that he knows about your sweet little secret.
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 Half an hour later Dean stands in front of Sam’s door, he harshly knocks and calls his brother’s name.
"SAM, Sammy, we got to fly to London, today,” he calls for his brother. “SAMMY! OPEN THE DOOR!
Sam opens the door. He yawns and rubs his tired eyes. “Dude, it's 2 am. Why are you at my apartment?" Sam grumbles. “Can’t this wait?”
"Sammy…I got a son,” Dean splutters and wildly gestures toward his car. “Y/N got my kid and I need to get to London...now..."
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charmed-asylum · 1 day
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Damn oh this was so good I was at edge whole time crazy to see how things change and didn’t. For a second I thought that was her child but no it’s Sam I feel bad bc of what Dean did it cause her to be mean to Sam . I mean I understand bc he would have told Dean but still damn. And I’m mad he got the nerve to be mad when HE DID NOT EVEN TRY excuse me I pull everything apart til it was nothing but dirt left and even then I keep going8 years and you sulk and pout and whine but don’t do anything smh
Designed by pain (3)
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Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?
Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader; Arthur Ketch x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, language, implied break-up, time jumps, strong reader
A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.
Designed by pain masterlist
Designed by pain (2)
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Time is a funny thing. One moment you look at old pictures of the love you lost to reminisce, and the next moment, the life you knew is long gone.
A heartbeat later eight years are gone, and you are sitting in an airplane leading back to your old life.
You take a deep breath, and exhale sharply, feeling Ketch’s eyes on you.
“Y/N, if only you told me about this earlier. I would’ve asked someone else to come with me. I should’ve known better than to ask you to face the man breaking your heart.” Ketch became our closest friend over the amount of eight years. He’s your son’s godfather and the big brother you never had. “Are you sure this is okay?”
“I’ve got this, Arthur,” you glance at your laptop to check on the timetable for the meeting with Winchester & Singer Inc. once again. “I’m not the girl he left.”
Arthur sighs deeply but ignores the anxiety clawing at his chest. The last thing he wanted was to force you to face your past. “If you want to stay at the hotel, I can go to the meeting and tell them you got sick.”
“Your designer didn’t get sick. This is my project and won’t stay away from the meeting only because there is a slight possibility that I will run into that man!”
He gives up but worriedly watches you squirm in your seat. You still hate flying but try to put a brave face on. You’re fierce and strong-headed. Only one of the many things he likes about you.
“If you want me to, I’ll break his face after we sealed the deal,” Ketch casually says. “I’m not scared of getting my hands dirty.”
“No,” you grab his hand and squeeze it. “He’s not worth it, Arthur. After all these years I know Dean never felt anything for me. Even his brother tried to contact me years ago. I wasn’t very nice to Sam, but it had to be done.”
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A split second can change your life. Dean never believed in fate or karma. But when you step inside the conference room, another man by your side, he’s suddenly a believer.
You take his breath away. Even if you aged, you did it with grace and grew even more beautiful. You carry yourself like no other woman, and he can barely keep himself from pouncing on you.
“Y/N?” Sam is the one rising from his seat first. He does what Dean wants to do. Sam wraps you in a hug, ignoring the man next to you. “It’s really you, Y/N. How have you been?”
“I’m good,” you pat his back, unsure how to react to Sam’s friendliness. “I hope you have been good too.”
Sam finally releases you. He apologizes for not greeting Ketch and shakes your boss’s hand. “Welcome, Mr. Ketch. We are glad you are willing to meet up with us.”
“My pleasure,” Ketch curtly replies. He shakes Sam’s hand while you look around the room. Dean’s eyes meet yours, but you act like he’s one of the people in the room you do not know. He’s only someone you used to know now.
“Daddy, daddy," you freeze when a little boy storms into the conference room. For a moment you watch Dean's reaction. His eyes are trained on you as his brother picks the boy up.
“And who is this young man,” your features soften for a moment, and you look at the boy in Sam’s arms. You blink and put a straight face on. Showing weakness is not in your plans. If this gets too intense you can cry in your hotel room, but not in front of Dean. Never in front of him.
"Y/N, this is Samuel, my son," you nod, turning your attention back toward Ketch, and the papers on the conference table.
Dean took the chance and stepped toward you and Ketch. He greeted your boss, and now he’s staring at you, eyes sparkling as you try to ignore his existence.
"Don't you want to greet Sam's son," Dean wonders but you remain stoic. "Y/N?” He questions. You loved kids, and always played with the children of your friends. Now you ignore the cute boy right in front of you. “What’s wrong with you?”
"I'm not into kids, Dean. What shall I do? Faint?" you huff and sit down, claiming the next best seat at the conference table. You unlock your phone and try to ignore Dean is standing right next to you.
"This isn't you, Y/N," you whip your head toward Dean, face still stoic. “Where is the quirky and lovely girl? Where is the girl who wanted kids and love?"
"Well," you slowly get back up to glare at Dean, a cold smile on your lips, "this is me after you." He inhales sharply, taken aback by your words. "Designed by pain, betrayal, and broken trust. Don't you like your creation?"
His jaw goes slack, and he flinches at your words. Dean doesn’t find his voice, and he swallows thickly.
You don’t wait for his reply. Instead of waiting for him to tell you that you are in the wrong, you sit back down and focus on your job. You’re here to sign the deal of the century, not to entertain Dean Winchester.
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Dean can’t believe you have changed so much. Yes, eight years have passed, and he didn’t see you since he fucked things up. Still, you are so different from the girl he loved.
You’re not quirky and bubbly any longer. Maybe you told him the truth. Your new you got designed by pain. The pain he caused so many years ago.
“Did you listen,” John hisses at his eldest son. He clears his throat and tries to pull Dean’s attention toward business and away from you. “I know she’s still a hot piece of ass but get your shit together. You can dick down some bitch later.”
You wrinkle your nose. John is not very subtle. He whispered his insults, but you heard every word. Some things never change. John Winchester is still disgusting and sleazy.
“Shall we come to an end then,” Bobby Singer raises his voice. “I think we are all tired of talking about details. We should sign the papers and have a drink.”
You smirk. Bobby Singer owns a special place in your heart. Not only because he was the one getting you the job in London, but for having your back for years.
He covered your traces and made sure no one was able to find you. Not even Sam Winchester who tried anything to get in touch with you.
A single phone call was all it took to make him stop. You told him that you were about to marry and that you never loved his brother.
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“Y/N, wait,” Dean puts his hand on your shoulder before you get the chance to follow Ketch out of the conference room. Your boss is engrossed in a conversation with Bobby and doesn’t see your face fall. “Can we at least talk? It’s good to see you.”
“Why?” You swat his hand off your shoulder but turn around to face him. “You didn’t want to talk after you embarrassed me in front of your family. I gave you a choice Dean. I left a note, almost begging you to not let me down.” 
“You didn’t leave a note. All I found was the engagement ring!” He gets louder. “After all these years you lie to me?”
“I left a note on the bed and placed the ring on top of the note. You didn’t call or come around. That’s all I needed to know. You wanted your ex, and I had to take care of…whatever.” You shrug and turn back around. “Who cares about the past? You had your reasons for not trying to fix things between us.”
“There was no note,” Dean says, a little confused about your behavior. “I swear there was no note. You must remember wrong.”
“I remember every single word I wrote, with tears in my eyes and trembling fingers,” you bitterly reply. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Don’t you think?”
And just like that, you grab your bag and leave the room. Dean watches you leave, just like that night.
“She didn’t leave a note,” he crosses his arms over his chest. Dean tries to recall that night. He remembers brushing Lisa’s advances off. He walked upstairs to apologize, and for make-up sex, only to find the room empty. “There was no note.” He shakes his head, remembering that the ring was lying on the bed, but no note.
“What’s wrong? Why did you let her go again?” Sam asks. “Dean?” He places his hand on Dean’s shoulder. 
“Y/N said she left a note, but there was none, Sammy. I swear there was no note, only the ring,” Dean shakes his head. “I don’t know why she’s lying.”
“What if she doesn’t lie, Dean,” Sam wonders. “Why should she lie about leaving a note? It’s been eight years, and she won’t get anything out of it if she lies.”
“You’re right.”
“So, who had the chance to sneak inside your shared room? Why would anyone take the note and leave the ring on the bed?” Sam wrinkles his forehead. “Let’s recall that night, Dean. What do you remember? Who went upstairs before you? Did you see anyone?”
Dean huffs. ”Mom went upstairs because Dad spilled his drink over her dress. I can’t remember seeing anyone else walking upstairs. I wasn’t sober that night, though.”
“Mother went upstairs,” Sam frowns deeply. He knows that Mary invited Lisa to the party. “That makes sense.”
“What?” Dean grunts. “Nothing makes sense anymore, Sammy. What was right is wrong and…” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s been eight years.”
“I didn’t take you for a quitter,” Sam taunts. “Why did you never marry, or have a relationship lasting longer than a week since Y/N is gone? You have been waiting for her all those years, and now you want to let her slip through your fingers again?”
“No…but…no…” Dean sighs deeply. “Y/N hates me, and I can’t blame her for it, Sammy.”
“Well then, let’s talk to mother. She has a lot to explain...”
Designed by pain (4)
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charmed-asylum · 2 days
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Sick Dean so adorable and cute they both cute af oh oh oh is this mean they official
A virgin at a sex store (4) - Caring cuddler
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Summary: Your great aunt bequeathed her fortune to you. Her successful store in town. Problem is – it’s a sex store and you are a virgin.
Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader
Warnings: age gap (the reader is 25; Dean 34), cocky Dean, sick Dean, talk about sex, fluff, falling in love, flirting, teasing
A/N: It’s been a while…huh?
A virgin at a sex store masterlist
Catch up here: A virgin at a sex store (3) - Sweet seducer
Divider by @firefly-graphics​
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“Morning, sweetheart,“ Dean waves at you when you enter the office you share. He grins and watches you sit down. “How have you … atchoo!” Dean sneezes and coughs. “Sorry.”
“Dean, are you sick?” You get up from your chair to check on Dean. He tries to pretend he’s not sick, but you won’t have it. You press the back of your hand to his forehead to check his temperature. “You’ve got a fever!”
“Yeah, for you,” he grins and grabs your waist to bring you onto his lap. Dean nuzzles his face in your neck, laughing as you squirm in his lap. “You give me fever…” 
He coughs again.
“Dean, you are sick. You need to take a few days off. Ruby can take care of the shop, and Charlie finished the website. I can call Kevin to come around to help Ruby.”
“I can’t take a day off,” he grumbles. “Let me have more coffee and I’ll be—” Dean sneezes again, wetting your neck.
“DEAN! EEK!” You mutter and slap his thigh. “You made it! Get up and follow me. I’m going to have a shower thanks to your snot on my neck and make you tea.”
Dean scrunches up his nose. “I hate tea. Give me booze and pie and I can work for hours.”
“No alcohol for you,” you hop off his lap and grab his hand to force him to get up. “Get up, Winchester. I’m going to nurse you back to life.”
He flashes you a smile. “Aw, you are going to be my sexy nurse. Tell me, will you wear a nice costume too?” Dean dips his head to look at one of the shelves. “I think we got some left. Over there.”
“No,” you jerk your head toward the door. “But I’ll get you some pie if you are a good boy and follow me home.”
He snickers. “That sounded dirty, sweetheart. I wouldn’t mind following you home, though. Just tell me what you want me to do to…atchoo!”
“You won’t do anything but lie in bed and take your medicine, Dean Winchester,” you point at the door. “Now come with me!”
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“Hey, you won’t get up,” you say and push Dean back down. He huffs but allows you to cover him with another blanket. “You’re sick and have a fever. I got medicine for you. The doctor said you must drink a lot.”
“Beer? Booze?” He coughs again. “Your sweetness.”
“Water or tea,” you place the medicine and a cup of tea on the nightstand. “I know being sick sucks, but you need to take better care of yourself.”
Dean puckers his lips. “But you take good care of me. I think I’m in capable hands.” He leans back on your pillow and sighs. “You even got me pie and medicine.”
“You’re…” You sigh. Dean snuggles in your pillow, and you can’t help but smile. “I’ll get you another slice if you take the medicine and drink the tea now.”
“More pie for me.” Dean cocks a brow. “You’re not lying, right? I’ll get more pie if I take the medicine.”
“Why would I lie to you?” You turn to leave your bedroom. “I’ll get you a slice of pie and you will take the medicine. Do not try to trick me, Sir.”
“Sir?” He purrs the word. “I like it when you call me like that. Maybe you can do it more often.” Dean calls after you. “In another setting, though.”
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“You’re so good to me,” Dean happily shovels the food you cooked for dinner into his mouth. He smirks as you watch him. “I took the medicine, I swear.” He sneezes and grunts. “Damnit, I hate having a cold.”
“You’ll live,” you snicker. “I will make sure of it.”
“I bet you will,” he winks at you before he shovels more food into his mouth. “You’ll nurse me back to life and I will pay you back with more than my presence.”
“How do you wanna pay me back? Can I drive your car?”
He chokes on the food. “No way! No one drives my Baby! Not even my brother.”
“Aw, but she’s so pretty and I’d like to go for a ride with her.”
“Yeah,” he ogles you shamelessly in your pajama pants. “I’d like to go for a ride too.” Dean sneezes. His fork drops to the ground, and he curses loudly. “Fuck you, stupid cold. I want to flirt with my girl, and you have to ruin it!”
My girl… Your heart flutters at his words. Dean grabs a tissue to blow his nose. He sighs and rubs his nose with the tissue. “I will kill whoever sneezed my way and got me sick.”
“I guess that’s what happens if you have contact with many people every day. We had a lot of customers last week. And not all of them wash their hands before they touch stuff at our store.”
“We should sell sanitizer with our dildos,” he snorts. “Maybe that’s not the worst idea.” Dean wrinkles his forehead. “What do you think? Wait! I have a slogan." He grins at you. "Do you want to make your partner happy? – All you got to do is buy lube and sanitizer to make your sex even better.”
You giggle. “Dean, that’s the worst slogan I ever heard.”
“Sweetheart, it’s an awesome slogan and you know it,” he grumbles under his breath and coughs again. “Wait! I got another one.” He makes a dramatic pause. “Before you touch the coochie, clean your pinky.”
“Coochie…pinky?” You start laughing loudly. Giggling and snorting. “Dean, we can’t do this!”
“Everyone coming to our store wants to play with the coochie or dick,” he points out. “Hygiene is important, Y/N. We should not forget about it.”
“I don’t know what was in the medicine the doctor prescribed, but it made you even funnier,” you say and sit next to Dean on the bed. You grab his hand and interlace your fingers with his. “We can talk about your new business idea when you are healthy again. Until then, I’ll take care of you.”
“Why are you so nice to me?” He asks, eyes dropping to your hand holding his. “You don’t have to take care of me.”
“Dean, you took care of me not weeks ago when I felt like crap. You helped me with my aunt’s business and accept that I can do whatever I want to,” you bring his hand to your lips to kiss it. “And I really like you.”
“I really like you too, Y/N,” he leans closer to whisper in your ear. “The moment I’m healthy again I’ll show you the breath stealer…” 
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charmed-asylum · 2 days
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Oh this here mmm mmmm mmm so good
Soldier Boy NSFW Alphabet
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a/n: a request from @foxyanon for a soldier boy nsfw alphabet! 🩷
TW: profanity, innuendo, afab reader, she/her pronouns
Disclaimer: I do not own any of The Boys characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Ben will do the absolute bare minimum. You'll have to have a long talk with him if your relationship gets more serious, because this man is completely useless when it comes to stuff like this. But, the good thing is he can be trained. Definitely loves sharing a good post coital cigarette with you.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Favorite part of himself is his beard because he loves the way you squirm when it's tickling your thighs. Favorite part of yours is a tie between your hair and your ass. He is an ass man through and through.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Doesn't like the thought of any more kids (look how the first one turned out), but he loves to paint your pretty face, your tits, your stomach, your ass with his cum.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
If you're a supe, he loves it if you're willing to get a little rough with him. He'll never tell any of his teammates, but the idea of you riding him, your hand wrapped around his throat, your tits bouncing in his face? It drives him fucking crazy.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Rest assured, Ben knows his way around a woman's body. He's got more experience than every member of the Seven combined, so he definitely knows how to make you scream.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Doggy style. Loves being able to tug on your hair, smack your ass, grope at your tits. There's just something so animalistic and primal about it that he can't resist.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Not goofy at all. Fucking is something he takes extremely seriously. He's always very in the moment, intense and focused.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Carpet is a bit darker/coarser than the drapes, but he keeps it well-trimmed.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Ben isn't a romantic in general. For him, sex isn't really about the emotional connection. But if he catches feelings for you? This man is a soppy mess, whispering how much he loves you, praising you. But when it's over, he says you better not tell anyone how mushy he got.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Prefers getting his relief with you, but when he's on a long mission? This man has a selection of boudouir photos of you and Playboy magazines that he will completely ruin with how often he jacks off.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Daddy kink, choking, bondage (on you), overstim (on you), exhibitionism
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Absolutely anywhere and everywhere. His place, your place, Vought Tower, on a mission, at a fancy restaurant. This man is always ready to go.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
The back of your neck, your cleavage, your supe suit and the way it clings to your body, seeing you kicking ass, seeing your lips wrapped around a cigarette and imagining it's his cock, the sound of your voice.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He doesn't like being restrained after what he went through. Needs to have his hands free at all times. Also doesn't want to be blindfolded or gagged. But he'll gladly do it to you.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Slight preference for receiving just because he's selfish, but he finds that with you he fucking loves eating you out. Loves the way you taste, the way your thighs shake when his beard rubs against you, the way you cry out begging for more even though your body can hardly take it. And God, when you cry from overstimulation? Nothing drives him crazier than that.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Fast and rough. You two are often in a hurry, so slow and sensual isn't really on the table most of the time. However, on the rare occasions it is, it's definitely something to remember.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Loves quickies. A huge advocate for them. Vought supply closet? In the woods while doing recon? He's in.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Adventurous in the bedroom for sure. Loves trying new things with you/on you so long as he's the one in control.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He's a supe. He'll go until you're on the verge of passing out, and even then, he'll keep going, saying you can give him just one more, that you're gonna be a good girl for Daddy.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Doesn't have a bunch of toys, but loves using the ones you own on you. Fucking you with your vibe or dildo, loves the idea of using a plug on you to prepare you to take him in your other tight little hole, loves using the cute little blindfold you have on you to tease you for hours.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He's a fucking menace. He loves teasing you. He'll edge you for what feels like hours before going crazy and making you come over and over and over again.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Not particularly loud, but lets out some very sexy sounding groans of your name.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Will cum in 2 seconds flat if you tug on his hair. He's a sucker for that.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Average length and girth but he knows what to do with it.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
VERY high. This man is a horny wreck.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Pretty soon after sharing a cigarette because the two of you go at it for hours and he's pretty damn tired by the end of it.
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charmed-asylum · 2 days
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Too good my heart hurts they are too much I can’t hahaha huh my god I had a hard time not crying or laughing to hard omg what is the parents gonna think
A virgin at a sex store (3) - Sweet seducer
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Summary: Your great aunt bequeathed her fortune to you. Her successful store in town. Problem is – it’s a sex store and you are a virgin.
Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, language, age gap (the reader is 25; Dean 34), cocky Dean, teasing, Dean being a tease, talk about sex toys, kissing (yes, that’s a warning if it’s Dean), fluff, menstrual cramps
A/N: It's been a while...huh?
A virgin at a sex store masterlist
Catch up here: A virgin at a sex store (2)
Divider by @firefly-graphics​
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“Morning sweetheart,“ Dean lazily leans in the doorframe, smiling like the devil himself. Maybe he is the devil hiding behind emerald eyes. You never know with the cocky man stealing more than your heart. “Breakfast, yes or no.”
“Ugh…please don’t talk about food or stuff,” you grumble and lie back down on your couch. “I can’t even think about food without feeling nausea.”
“Did I…?” He steps inside your home to glance at you. “Damn, I’m good!” Dean exclaims. “I got you pregnant without stealing your innocence.” 
“What?” You roll your eyes. “That’s impossible, and you know it.”
“Hmm…” Dean looks at your belly, frowning as you clutch your abdomen. “You are suffering from morning sickness, Y/N. I did get you pregnant. We need to marry.”
You snort at his playful tone. “Dean, I’m not in the mood for bad jokes. Aunt Flo strikes again, and I don’t feel good. I’m nauseous, got terrible cramps, and on top of all, my mom called.”
“OH!” He nods slowly and glances at your tummy again. “Wait, let me help you feel better.” Dean makes quick work. Before you can protest you end up in his arms, squealing as he carries you out of your apartment. 
“Dean, where are we going? DEAN!”
“I’m working from home today. I need to finish a few ideas for new dildos, you know. I’ll bring you to my home, and we can work in my bedroom. I got a soft mattress.”
“I got a mattress too,” you huff. “At my bedroom, Dean. I can go to my bedroom and rest.”
“No, no. I’ll take care of you, sweetheart,” Dean pecks your cheek. “Good thing we are neighbors, and no one else is living next door.”
“Dean, you really don’t have to. I’m used to having cramps and to take care of myself when Aunt Flu arrives.”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to. I got snacks, ice cream and, if you get lucky, I’ll make you my infamous bacon burger for dinner,” he grins and carefully places you on his bed.
Dean didn’t lie. His mattress is soft, and you already get comfortable when he covers you with a warm blanket.
“I’ll get you a hot water bottle, some tea, and a toast,” he flushes a pillow and puts it behind your back. “Just relax. I’ll be right back with everything and then I can check on the design for the new dildos.”
You chuckle. Dean talks about sex toys like everyone else about the weather. It’s normal to him to talk about sex and the toys, you sell at your aunt’s stores. “Dean!”
“What? I know how to take care of my girl,” he raises his index finger to stop you from protesting. “Let me take care of you, sweetheart.”
“Fine,” you sigh and snuggle into his pillow. “After the discussion I had with my mother last night, I could need some nice company.”
“Nice company comes your way,” he winks at you. “Give me ten minutes and you will feel much better.”
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Dean took good care of you. He brought you a hot water bottle, the promised tea, and breakfast. 
While he checked on a few design ideas and talked about the website with the web designer, you watched him. He furrowed his brows or pursed his lips – making him look even more adorable.
You got lost in not-so-innocent fantasies while he worked. Lost in thoughts you didn’t notice Dean stopped working and called your name.
“What do you think, sweetheart,” he suddenly turned the laptop to show you the new pictures Charlie, the web designer added. “It’s the main menu. I think it rocks!”
“Hot damn,” you splutter. “Dean! That’s…that’s you and…” You lick your lips and stare at the picture. “You're on your car, and you’re holding the new Dean dildo in your hand.”
“Do you like it?” He grins because you can’t even think of an answer. “What do you think, Y/N? I want to hear your opinion.”
Your brain is busy ogling Dean lying on his car, chest bare, and with a cocky smirk on his lips. It seems like he looks directly at you. He lies on his car, legs spread wide, and a cocky smirk on his lips.
“It’s provocative but very sexy,” you try not to sound like a creep. You like Dean, and don’t try to objectify him. “I mean…the woman will love it, some guys too…or a lot of guys.”
“Awesome,” Dean laughs and slams the laptop shut. “My job here is done. We will sell a shit-on of dildos with my name on it.”
“I guess you’re right,” you bite your index finger while fighting the urge to open the laptop to look at the picture one last time. “But don’t you hate it when people objectify you, Dean?”
“It’s for the business, sweetheart,” he pats your thigh. “My pretty face sells a lot of sex toys. I’m not ashamed of my job. I love it, to be honest. Your aunt saved me, and my life back then. I owe that I do my job with passion.”
“She must’ve really liked you, Dean,” your smile saddens. “I wish that I stayed in contact with her. Only because my parents told me to stay away I abandoned her while she never forgot about me.”
“Hey, she knew that it wasn’t you. Martha adored you, Y/N. She always told us that it’s not your fault that you didn’t stay in contact with her.”
“I should’ve Dean! I loved her and didn’t see her again,” you sniffle now. “I’m an awful person for letting her down!”
“You’re the great woman Martha told all of us about. Never believe for one second that you are a bad person.” Dean tuts and wipes a tear off your cheek. “Now relax. I’ll make you some food and take good care of you.”
“Dean,” you sigh deeply. “My parents found out that Martha left me everything she owned. They want to know about the stores.” You bite your lower lip, chewing on it. “How can I tell them I now own sex stores.”
“With a smile,” Dean is quick to reply. He shrugs and winks at you. “Martha was proud of all the goals she reached in life. She left everything to you, sweetheart. Do not disappoint her by acting like owning her stores is a bad thing.” Dean gets up from the bed to put the laptop aside.
“That’s not what I meant,” you hastily say. “I’m just not sure they will understand that I took over Martha’s business. They are very…” You sigh deeply. “Old-fashioned. I think Daddy will faint if he looks at our website.”
“I bet he’ll go and buy condoms or a dildo,” Dean smirks cockily. “Whatever floats his boat, you know. Just tell them you took over Martha’s business. Who cares what they think about it?”
“You make it sound so easy,” you look at his laptop again. “You’re so self-confident, and always know what to say.”
“Ah, you’re already enchanted by me,” Dean dips one knee into the mattress. He dips his head to steal a kiss. “I’m the sweet seducer, Y/N. You should be careful, or you’ll fall for me.”
You cup his face to kiss him again. “Maybe I already fell for you, Mr. Winchester.”
A virgin at a sex store (4)
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charmed-asylum · 2 days
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Okay but this story just to damn good I mean damn I love it who would know he could found someone so perfect one late night day as he clean up . I wonder what happens ?
The Miracle Man
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Pairing: Boaz Priestly x F. Reader
Summary: The first time you met Priestly was both the worst and best night of your life. He gave you a Miracle.
AN: Here’s the prequel to Code Red! (But this can also be read as stand alone.) I hope you enjoy. And just a note, remember this was circa 2007, still the era of flip phones and iPods, despite the advent of the iPhone.
Word Count: 3,500
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for mature talk. A kind of meet cute, insecurities, angst, breakups, hurt/comfort, sandwiches, fluff and feels.
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He was a lone ranger in the Wild West. His weapon of choice?
A dirty mop.
Priestly bopped his head to the music playing from his earbuds. His iPod was tucked in his right jean pocket while he speared the mop across the floor of the sandwich shop. It was three minutes to closing time on a Saturday night, and it was his turn to clean up and lock up.
He was looking forward to getting home, taking a shower, and diving face-first into his bed. But first, he just needed to kill three minutes.
Come on, come on, come oooon, he sang in his mind as the hands on his watch ticked on. While glancing down at said watch, he remembered it had been a gift from Tish for his birthday…
Three months ago. When they were still together.
Priestly heaved a sigh. What were you supposed to do with gifts from your ex that you actually liked? The gifts that made it into your everyday life, not just because they were from the person you thought you loved, but because it was actually hella practical and a nice accessory to keep on your person?
It’s just a damn watch. Don’t make it a big deal, he reminded himself. What was he supposed to do, have a ritual burning of everything Tish had ever touched?
That would take all damn night. And he definitely drew a line at his dick.
“Hello?”
The front door of the shop opened, the little bell Trucker installed chiming with too much cheer and startling Priestly out of his thoughts.
“We’re closed,” he said. But that was before he looked up, and had to pause in his mopping.
You were standing there, holding yourself in the open doorway with the cold breeze hitting your back. You were wearing a red cocktail dress and the highest black heels he’d ever seen, with your styled hair falling around your shoulders.
You were entirely too beautiful to be in this old sandwich shop, he thought. It had Priestly swallowing, frozen in time.
“Really? The sign says 10,” you pointed out. There was a level of desperation in your eyes. “Please, you’re the only place with the lights still on and I’ve been all up and down the block.” 
Blinking out of his idiotic state, Priestly looked down at his watch again. It was exactly 9:59 p.m.
Well, damn. Got me on a technicality.
He held in a sigh.
“Okay, come on in,” he waved you over. Setting down his mop, he rounded the counter and went to man the register. He gave you a minute to peruse the menu. He noted that aside from your stunning attire, you had a cell phone in your hand that clearly couldn’t fit in that little purse hanging off your shoulder, bumping along your hip.
He couldn’t help but visually trace the curves of your hips and waist, back up to the sweetheart neckline of the dress, the deeper shade of your lipstick and up to your face.
But then he felt bad for staring, so he looked up heavenward before you caught him.
Meanwhile, your eyes drifted from the menu and dipped to his chest for a moment.
“Too bad I’m not gay,” you said.
What? Priestly frowned in confusion. But following your gaze, he realized you were staring at his yellow shirt, which read in big, 70s-style letters: Be Gay & Proud, Get a Free Drink.
His lips twitched at a grin, and he looked up at you. “D’you know what you want?”
You had a smile starting to play on your lips as well. You went back to considering your choices.
“Not sure, but I’m starving. What do you recommend?” you asked.
Priestly’s lips puckered as he considered the menu he knew by heart.
“Well, if you wanna go classic, I’d do a Spicy Italian on white bread. If you wanna be adventurous, we just added the Jalapeño Buffalo Chicken Club," he said. "But, if you wanna get crazy awesome, I can put on some Zeppelin and make you something special of my own design.”
He colored that last option with a gesture of his hand, a flourish, if you will. You tilted your head at him and smiled.
“Okay. Surprise me, Sandwich Man.”
Priestly snorted while he washed his hands again. “Sounds like the lamest superhero ever.”
“With his death-defying salami summoning powers,” you quipped, with a giggle that had him smiling as well.
“Nice alliteration,” he said. And he made a show of tying his apron back on. “Don’t worry, ma’am. Your late-night hoagie is safe with me.”
You tried to stifle another laugh while he worked his magic. From bread to meats and cheeses and toppings, Priestly was a master of his craft. He had that 12” hero wrapped and sliding across the counter towards you in record time.
“I call this the ‘Miracle,’” he winked. “You’ll see why. But that’ll be $10 even.”
You nodded and turned to the purse on your hip. You opened up the little velvety thing, but your face fell when all you found was your keys, not your credit card.
“No.” Your heart dropped into your stomach. You opened your purse wider and flipped through the satin insides, but you saw that it was empty. “You’ve gotta be shitting me. I know I had my wallet in here…”
And then it dawned on you.
“That fucking asshole,” you growled.
Priestly’s eyes widened. “Uh…”
Your head snapped up to his. “I had a different purse picked out for tonight. You know, one that actually had my wallet in it? But my know-it-all boyfriend had the nerve to say, ‘That one’s too shiny, looks kinda cheap. This is a restaurant at the Ritz-Carlton, not a hooker hangout.’ Can you believe that?”
Priestly blinked in confusion, but he realized that in your purse shuffling, you had no way to pay for this amazing sandwich he’d just concocted.
And now, you actually had the beginnings of frustrated tears in your eyes as you took in a shuddering breath.
“I’m so sorry,” you said. “I can’t—I can’t pay for this. I don’t have my wallet… Hold on, let me see if he’ll…”
You held up a finger and started dialing manically on your phone. You held it up to your ear and waited. Your tears sprang forth anew when the line just kept ringing until it sent you to voicemail. 
“Figures,” you scoffed. “The one time I actually need this douchebag to answer, he ignores me!”
You slammed the phone down on the counter and covered your face with your hand as you sniffled. Priestly softened with sympathy. You seemed to be having a harder night than he thought.
He slid the sandwich your way, making you raise your head.
“It’s okay. This one’s on the house,” he said. “Looks like you could use a pick-me-up.”
Your watery eyes met his. “Really? You don’t have to…”
“No worries,” he replied, giving you a bit of charm in his grin. “I’ll even throw in a soda. Lady’s choice.”
Your lower lip trembled, but you were able to smile. With a quiet thank you, you wiped under your eyes carefully so your mascara wouldn’t run. Then you grabbed a Coke from the machine along with your sandwich from the counter.
“Do you mind if I eat here?” you asked, gesturing at one of the tables. “I promise I won’t leave a mess. I know you’re trying to close up.”
Priestly waved a dismissive hand. “Sure. Don’t worry about it.”
He went around the counter to take up his mop and continue where he left off in the cleaning process. But he couldn’t help but eye you every now and then. Curiosity was starting to eat him alive.
Had your boyfriend just dumped you here? Had you gone off alone? Somehow, he couldn’t see the first option happening. If you were his girlfriend, he would do his best not to let you walk away angry at him, let alone this late at night, without any money or even your ID.
“Are you coming from a party or something?” he found himself asking. You looked up from your second bite of the sandwich. You’d looked to have been truly enjoying it, uttering a moan that’d caught his attention.
“No,” you chuckled humorlessly around a mouthful of bread. “I was supposed to meet his parents. His rich, very bougie, hyper-critical parents. Somehow it didn’t occur to me that he was just like them.”
Priestly paused and leaned on his mop. He was hesitant, not wanting to disturb you while you were eating, but he was too damn hooked.
“So…what happened?” he asked. You scoffed and took another massive bite of your sandwich.
“Okay, you want to hear this? Fine,” you began. “So, I’m a stress eater by nature. Let’s just start with that.”
“Who isn’t?” Priestly supplied. Pursing your lips, you raised a black olive at him in a thank you gesture.
“But when I tell you I spent three months depriving myself to fit into this dress. No carbs, cheese, chocolate, or happiness.”
He grimaced. “That’s no way to live.”
“Exactly!” you concurred. “But I did all that so my boyfriend would have nothing to say when I finally met his parents for this dinner—to celebrate him graduating from med school.”
Priestly found himself dimming inside. Not only were you spoken for, but you were with a future doctor, no less. The only title Priestly had to his name was Sandwich Man.
“It started with the purse thing when he picked me up. Then when we get there, he keeps telling me how stuffy his dad is and how judge-y and critical his mom can be and how I’m a reflection on him,” you mocked in an impression of his voice.
“Then I find myself second-guessing every word that might come out of my mouth, and I’m too nervous to even eat the $60 plate of Chilean sea bass in front of me, and not to mention, there’s a glass of wine in my hand. I don’t even like wine!”
By now, it was all Priestly could do to keep up with your verbal spitfire. You were also gesticulating wildly with your sandwich the more worked up you got.
“I mean, I’m saying things I don’t say, and suddenly I realize that I’ve wrapped myself up in so many knots for this man, I don’t even recognize myself,” you confessed. Your eyes lit up with a gleam of clarity. Your hands lowered down to the table, and after a beat, you continued eating.
“But then my boyfriend of over a year turns to me and says, ‘Why are you being so weird and frigid?’” you said. You met Priestly’s eyes. “I just, I got so mad. I wanted to choke him out with my napkin, you know?”
He bit his lip to stifle a laugh.
“So instead of violence, I grabbed the glass of pinot noir, or chardon-perignon-whatever-the-fuck, and I poured it in his lap,” you concluded. “Then I walked out. And I ignored his calls. And I kept walking. Then a nice guy made me a sandwich.”
Priestly had to smile at that. He knew there was a Ritz-Carlton in the area, but that had to be almost a mile down the street. You’d walked a long way in those crazy-ass heels.
He propped his mop against a nearby table and sat down across from you. He shook his head in wonderment. And inside, your words kind of rattled him.
I’ve wrapped myself up in so many knots, I don’t even recognize myself.
“You know, sometimes I really, really wish I was gay,” you said, gesturing at his shirt.
“O-Oh…really?” he asked, raising his brows.
“Yeah, I do,” you answered. “I’m a quick study. I could learn to eat pussy.”
If he had been drinking something, he would’ve spat it out. He mentally fumbled for a moment before he could articulate a response.
“Well, I don’t doubt you, but it can be an acquired taste. Though I happen to like it,” he replied, grinning mostly to himself. He didn’t even think about how it might come out though.
As soon as he realized what he was saying to a perfect stranger, his eyes widened and met yours.
"Uh, sorry," he said.
But you just chortled in amusement. Your blush intensified though, along with your smile as you took a sip of your soda.
“You’re uh…you’re pretty awesome,” he said. And he meant that.
You blinked in surprise. Your lips twitched upwards, a blush rosy in your cheeks.
“Yeah?” you asked. His smile deepened.
“Yeah,” he replied. “And for the record, I know I just met you, but…I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Your face softened with a certain shyness, but you smiled at him through your lashes.
“Well, I appreciate that…” you trailed, realizing you didn’t yet know his name.
“Priestly,” he offered, along with his hand across the table. You slipped your smaller hand in his and gave him your name.
Though you quirked a brow at him. “Priestly? That’s your first name?”
Now it was his turn to get a little embarrassed.
“Uh, no,” he said, his gaze falling from yours. He scratched the back of his head, under the blue mohawk.
“Oh. What is it, then?” you asked.
“You don’t want to know,” he chuckled wryly.
“I think I do, or I wouldn’t be asking,” you countered. Your smile was playful though. Disarming, even.
“It’s um, it’s Boaz,” he admitted. You tilted your head, as if swirling the name around in your head. But you didn’t say it was weird, or stupid, or too biblical. You just smiled.
“Boaz Priestly. Interesting,” you nodded. Then you wrapped up your garbage, having eaten all of your sandwich. You made sure to collect every crumb, even though he’d told you not to worry about the mess. You got up to take it to the trashcan near the door.
“How’re you getting home?” he asked.
You bit your lip. The anxiety in your eyes told him you’d been pondering that same question. You let out a deep breath.
“I guess I’ll have to walk back to the hotel, try to get a ride from my b…my ex-boyfriend. Gotta get used to saying that,” you said. “I promise I’ll pay you back for the sandwich.”
“Didn’t I tell you it was on me? Don’t worry about that,” said Priestly. “But I’ll tell you what, let me give you a ride.”
You shook your head. “Oh, thank you, but we just met, and I—”
Just then, Priestly realized how his offer sounded. He didn’t want to creep you out.
“Ah, or I can get you a cab,” he said. “I doubt you want to see that guy again tonight, do you?”
You bit your lip, smudging some of the scarlet red lipstick there. It distracted him for a moment, but he returned his gaze to your eyes.
You sighed. As much as you didn’t want to impose again, you let Priestly call you a cab. He paid for it in advance after you gave the cabbie your address. Before you got in the car, you turned to Priestly and touched his arm.
“Thank you,” you said. “I promise, I’ll come tomorrow and pay you back.”
He smiled. “You can try.”
He earned your sweet smile back, and he watched you get into the cab. He tried not to raise his hopes up, but he really did hope he’d see you tomorrow.
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And yet, he should’ve known it was too good to be true.
“Maybe she got caught up at work or something,” Jen tried to console him the next day at closing, after you didn’t show up.
“It’s Sunday,” he pointed out grumpily. He continued to wipe down Table 4 of some nasty residue of mayo and pickled radish.
“You don’t know what kind of job she has,” Piper interjected. She was making a tuna salad sub on wheat for the last customer, which she then passed on to Tish at the register. “Maybe she’s in retail, or she’s in the restaurant business too—or hey, a lifeguard! This is a beach town after all.”
“Or maybe, she just played you into getting free food and a ride home,” Tish suggested, with her usual brand of cutting sarcasm. It just tended to cut a bit deeper these days, whenever it was leveled at Priestly.
The post-breakup thing had been tense and awkward for everyone, and it still hadn’t normalized just yet in their little sandwich-making ecosystem. Jen shot her friend a look though, one that told her she was being bitchy.
The problem was, she’d only voiced what Priestly was thinking anyway, deep down.
“Amazing, serendipitous things don’t happen to me, Piper,” he said. “Not anymore.” 
He continued cleaning.
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Three weeks later, it happened on a Friday afternoon.
It was one of their busiest times of the week. Tish was at the register as usual, Jen was sorting through the inventory and bussing tables, and Priestly was making hero after hero like a fiend, alongside Piper. He was definitely living up to his name of Sandwich Man.
He was still able to recognize your voice near the register.
“One 12” Miracle, please,” you requested.
“Um…we don’t have that on the menu,” Tish replied. But Priestly looked over with a grin. He met your gaze, and found you smiling back at him.
Tish followed the exchange with suspicion.
“One Miracle, coming up!” Priestly called out.
He had the order ready within minutes, but he was painstaking about it, not an olive out of place. He wrapped it up nicely and walked it over to the register himself, placing it in front of you on the counter.
“Well, hi there,” he greeted.
A familiar blush spread across your face, just as endearing as he remembered. The only thing different about you so far was your clothes. No longer dressed to the nines, you were more casual in your jeans, ankle boots, and V-necked top.
In every other way, you were the same. It might’ve been making his heart trip up.
“Hi,” you said. “Got a minute, Miracle Man?”
Priestly ducked his head, hiding a more bashful smile. Before he could respond, Tish interrupted, “That’ll be $10.”
You nodded and handed her a $50 bill. She looked at you in confusion.
“The rest is a tip, for the hero makers,” you explained, glancing at both Priestly and Piper. He gave you an incredulous smile.
You little minx, he thought. He couldn’t say no if you were tipping Piper too.
But he did ask Jen to help fill in for him while he made his way around the counter to go to you. Tish just watched the scene unfold with a silent frown, like she was trying to make sense of what was happening. She always thought she’d be the first one to move on.
“Let’s talk outside. Little more privacy from the peanut gallery,” Priestly said to you, tossing a knowing glance over his shoulder. You spotted all the employees now watching you and Priestly closely.
You became a touch more shy as he led you out of the shop with a hand resting on the small of your back. You slipped your sandwich into a larger purse than last time. Then you looked up at him with apologetic eyes.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to come back here,” you said. “It got a bit…ugly, after that night.”
Priestly’s brows furrowed in concern. “Ugly?”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” you assured him. “Lots of shouting and empty threats, then half-assed apologies. But I’m done with all that.”
Priestly considered that with a nod. “Well, good. I’m glad to hear you’re doing better.”
You stared up at his face, and you thought he really seemed to mean that. You knew you shouldn’t be feeling that familiar flutter in your stomach, not three weeks after breaking up from a year-long relationship. Even so, the night you walked out of this shop, you felt free. Like you could breathe again.
You felt like you.
So now, you leaned up and kissed Priestly on the cheek.
His eyes widened a fraction as he stared down at you. You smiled and grasped his hand.
“Would you maybe want to…ask me out sometime?” you asked. A nervous giggle escaped you, making him smile.
“Y-Yeah, I would. If you’re sure you want me to,” he replied. In the past, maybe he would’ve let his excitement get the best of him. He’d be trying to jump at this chance. Experience had taught him not to hope too hard though. Sometimes, getting what you wished for backfired in your face.
You squeezed his hand, earning his attention.
“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked. Your smile became teasing before you used his words against him. “From what I’ve seen so far, you’re pretty awesome. But mostly pretty.”
He had to laugh at that. Pretty was not something he’d ever been called in life. Weird, freak, try-hard goth—that was all familiar territory. His tattoos and piercings tended to bring that out in people.
But he gathered some courage and squeezed your hand back.
“Well, you’re beautiful,” he said, thumbing at your chin. His eyes met yours and got lost there for a moment. “Uh, really beautiful.”
You blushed further and bit your lower lip out of habit. It drew his gaze, and he gained a little more courage. He tilted your chin upwards, so he could find those lips easier in a kiss. Your fingers curled in the front of his shirt and brought him closer. His hand found your cheek as he angled deeper into the kiss.
Despite the chill on the air, the California sun was warm and beating down on you both.
It was the perfect day for a Miracle.
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AN: How I love Priestly lol. If you liked this, let me know! 💜
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Priestly Masterlist
Main Masterlist
BP Tag List:
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @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 @siampie @sanscas @kaleldobrev
@waters-2567 @pieandmonsters @akshi8278 @deans-spinster-witch @jackles010378 @idiotdyslexic @heartlessdelusions @chriszgirl92
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charmed-asylum · 2 days
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** love that gif** but no three months later and you can’t see come on DEAN REALLY OKAY REALLY YOU BEEN W HER FOR HOW LONG N UACT LOKE THST OH UR LUCKY BC IF IT WAS A POSSIBILITY I WOULD BE LIKE TAKE MY GIRL ARTHUR BC U KNOW OR SAM oh she did it no you did it and not trying To find her . So good I swear
Designed by pain (2)
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Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?
Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader; Arthur Ketch x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, language, implied break-up, time jumps, strong reader, Dean being a douche (implied), unplanned pregnancy
A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.
Designed by pain masterlist
Designed by pain (1)
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Three months later, London 
London in spring was less exciting than you thought. If you explored most of the well-known tourist attractions, it was a place like all the ones you lived in before.
Well, it was a little more British, and they had better tea. Okay, they had the best tea you ever drank outside of Japan. But you couldn’t feel more than resentment against London.
It wasn’t its fault. If you had come here before Dean broke your heart, you would’ve fallen in love with the non-touristic places you discovered on your walks through town.
Like the sweet little bakery called the Dusty Knuckle. You chuckled at the name and were about to call Dean to tell him about it. He would’ve laughed and you would’ve laughed…together soon enough.
That was until you realized that you forgot about reality and the situation you are in. 
Well, he would laugh getting to know you signed up for one of their bread-making classes to distract yourself from your messed up feelings.
“How do you like your new office?” Arthur brings you out of your thoughts. Over the last months, he became a confidant. He helped you find the perfect home for you and your baby and made sure that you at least forget about your heartbreak for a while.
Having a man not trying to get into your pants around was refreshing. Arthur tried to be a friend, not your boss. “It’s perfect,” you smile up at him before you turn your attention back toward the newest design. “I like the new design of the car.”
“I knew you’d like it,” Arthur chuckles. “Just like I knew you’d be perfect for this position. I wanted someone with the same passion for cars I share.”
You focus on your laptop and try not to cringe. Dean was the one waking the passion for cars deep within you. You still prefer classic cars, but you want to help build cars for the future.
“Thank you, for everything, Arthur,” you drop your eyes to your middle, wincing as you think about Dean again. He doesn’t deserve one single thought, but it isn’t easy to forget about the love of your life.
“I told you before, there is no need to thank me for hiring you,” Arthur pats your shoulder. “We work together like a well-oiled machine. I have to thank you.”
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At the same time, Dean’s office, …
“Dean, I don’t get why you won’t try to find Y/N. She just upped and left that night. I heard her crying in your shared room, but she wouldn’t open the door.”
“She just upped and left, that’s right,” Dean snaps at his younger brother. “He rises from his seat to glare at Sam. “She left her ring on the bed! No note, no reason why. This told me everything I needed to know.”
“Just saying, that’s not her. Y/N would never do such a thing,” Sam interjects. “You know her better than me, but Y/N once told me that she hates unfinished business. She would’ve talked things out if you only gave her a chance!”
“Why are you so interested in my love life?” Dean snaps at his brother. “Y/N left and that’s that. Whatever we had is over.”
“Whatever you had?” Sam huffs and shakes his head. “You wanted to marry her, Dean. Dean Winchester wanted to settle down and have a family. If not for your mishap at the party, you’d be happy with her.”
“Mishap?” Dean splutters. “I don’t remember much of that night. I got a little drunk to find the guts to tell Mom and Dad about my engagement. Maybe I talked a little bit too long with Lisa. That’s all!”
“You ignored your fiancé for your ex-girlfriend, Dean,” Sam makes a face. He can’t fathom that his brother believes he wasn’t in the wrong that night. “You could’ve been happy with Y/N if not for your self-manipulative behavior. We both know you did this on purpose to make Y/N leave you.”
“What?” Dean gasps.
“Y/N was the best thing ever happening to you and you got scared again. So, you allowed Lisa Braeden to be all over you. No woman will stay by your side if she feels unwanted.”
“Leave me alone,” Dean grunts. “It’s over for good. I wouldn’t know where to look for her either way.”
“I can call a friend. He’s a private investigator and could easily find Y/N,” Sam tries one last time to make his brother see that he should do anything to get you back. “Dean don’t lose her out of stubbornness. You were in the wrong.”
“She could’ve stayed and talked to me. Just give up,” Dean drops his eyes to the little black box on his desk. “I did when I woke up to an empty bed, her ring in my hand.”
“I hope Mother is happy now,” Sam snaps at his brother. “She always wanted you to settle for Lisa Braeden, the woman breaking your heart.”
“Sammy,” Dean swallows thickly. “She was my fiancé, not yours. Stay out of my business.” He says instead of asking Sam to help him. Dean is too proud to admit that he’s missing you like hell.
If only he knew why you didn’t even leave a note…
Part 3
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charmed-asylum · 2 days
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Idk whyyyy but girl chica love a dove oh hell no u didn’t come tho w extra goodies say what !! lol excuse me it’s been a few hard weeks. I had this treasure for a minute and as I make it tho my long list I have to say it was worth the wait. Because oh oh oh I don’t have much interaction but I got enough to point my black and golden manicure nail at this muh and go mm mmm mmm!!! Because something fishy now he right on something it wasn’t his case however it’s a bit strange that her mom a huge donor been around his wife and he just so happen yeah a no and I can’t wait to see how this all goes down
Ticking Clock - Chapter 1
Summary | After your boyfriend is sentenced to prison by Neal Loguidice, you continue to find yourself in the cross hairs of Andy Barber, who is intent on keeping you close under the guise of being a friend in your time of need.
[The first chapter is tame but it will quickly go into some dark territory starting in the next chapter. 18+ as there will be stalking, violence, minor character death, non-con and more that my brain is still working on. Navigate with caution. I am challenging myself to write this fic while only listening to the DJ soundtrack as I work through this. As always, if you like, please re-blog!]
divider by @royallyprincesslilly​ and I dunno who made the gif. If you did, lemme know and I will definitely give credit.
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The visit ended the way it always did – the heavy sadness in your stomach of getting up and lingering at the door, watching your boyfriend be led back to his cell in cuffs through the thick plexiglass. You resolved that you were not going to cry until the door closed behind you, bowing your head as the tears ran down your cheeks that you wiped away with your palms, slumping against the wall to collect yourself.
This happened every time you came to visit, intent on being strong for him so that he wouldn’t see you fall apart.
Keep reading
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charmed-asylum · 2 days
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Hot damn hot damn idk who more crazy august or Walter bc they both crazy does august care or just mad Walter not doing what he wants hearing them talk to or about reader gives me shivers. Then what can this surprise be. I swear I won’t be surprised if he pop the question or drives her to a church like tada we are getting married. Wonder goes he see her a a person or object does August care
Between a rock and a hard place (5)
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Summary: You are in big trouble and in need of money. Two wolves are more than willing to help you. For a price…
Pairing: Mobster!Walter Marshall x fem!Reader x Mobster!August Walker
Warnings: angst, language, power imbalance, debts, scared reader, groping, gaslighting, darkfic, both brothers are not nice guys, mafia au, a tiny hint of fluff/aftercare, possessive Walter, jealousy?, cockwarming
Between a rock and a hard place (4)
Between a rock and a hard place masterlist
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Shutting the world around you off, especially the two men using you to their liking, you fell asleep on the couch at the club.
You slept for almost two hours before Walter finally decided it was time to go home. He covered your body with his large shirt and picked you up in bridal style.
August was less aggressive and loud on your way toward the car. He grinned and talked about your perfect ass the whole time.
At least you got him off your back by letting him fuck your ass. A silver lining in the dark pit your world became.
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“You’ve done so well for us. We made so much money,” Walter soothingly runs his big hand over your back as you try not to move too much.
You are in the largest bathtub you have ever seen. Walter insisted on running you a bath and on joining you. A trick, of course. You ended up impaled on his insatiable cock to keep him warm once again.
“Feels good keeping my big cock warm, doesn’t it?” He laughs when you hide your face in his chest. You’d love to tell him that you are sore and tired, but he wouldn’t listen to you. None of them does.
“You tricked me,” you murmur, afraid to speak louder. “You lied too.”
“Kinda,” he pats your head. “We let our customers fuck our employees but provide a different service too. I kept my word, didn’t I? I only shared you with August. No other man will touch you ever again, lamb.”
“We call it live-action porn,” August snickers as he joins you in the tub. He stretches his long legs out and you instinctively cling to his brother. “Don’t worry, I’m satisfied for tonight. The blowjob you gave me in the back of the car was mind-blowing. You’re a little minx.”
“She was such a good girl for me. I’m so proud of her for letting herself fall,” Walter’s praise, makes your heart flutter. “I rewatched the close-up and got hard again. My sweet little lamb is a star. I hate to say it, but I told you so.”
“Hmmm…you don’t hate to say it, brother.” You squeak when August leans forward to grope your ass. “As long as I can fuck her, you can keep her. I’ll figure out how to make her disappearance believable.”
You stiffen. “Relax, baby lamb. We only want to keep you to ourselves. Bad people are after your dead husband, and I can tell, they’d love to get their hands on you.”
“You’re ours now. No need to be officially alive, right?” August pinches your ass meaningly and snickers when you try to move away. But you are trapped, still impaled on his brother’s cock. “Right.”
“Don’t be an ass,” Walter slaps his brother’s hand away. “She made fifty thousand bucks in one night for us. I told you she’s going to be good for us.”
“Good for you,” you sniffle. “So good…”
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Walter showed mercy after he filled your cunt up for one last time. He cleaned you and put you into a barely-not-there nightie to present you to his brother.
“I like the way you dress her,” August laughs as you lie on the bed, worn-out, and tired. “She’s a damn porn star with a mouth and a tight hole like that.”
“She has had enough for one night,” Walter points at the door. “You can fuck her with me at the club, but nowhere else. The blowjob at the car was a one-time thing. She’s mine.”
“Christ, you are obsessed with her,” you hide your face in the cushions when the brothers start fighting over you again. “I want her at the club again next week. I got some VIPs waiting for a good show.”
“Next week,” Walter jerks his head toward the door. “Now leave. She needs sleep and me too. I fucked her so many times I’m a little tired myself.”
August glances at you one last time. He can’t help but feel a little jealous as you immediately move closer to his brother the moment he lies on the bed next to you.
“Night,” he walks out of the door, slamming it shut with a loud thud. You flinch and sniffle, knowing he’s mad at you again.
“Let him sulk, lamb,” Walter moves closer to you. “Come here. I’ll keep you safe and warm.”
You don’t argue or fight Walter when he tells you to lie on his chest. It’s easier to be good for him and do as he says. He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head.
“He’ll lose interest soon and then you are all mine,” he whispers. “I’ll make sure that he doesn’t hurt you, my sweet lamb. You’re too good for me to go to waste.”
Walter runs his big hand over your back up to your shoulders and back down. Your eyes flutter shut, and you feel warm.
“I knew you were special when I saw you the other day. You smiled and giggled, but your husband didn’t pay attention to what you had to say. I think you came to the event to show off your pretty new dress, but he only had eyes for some other woman.”
Your eyes snap open again as he continues.
You remember that night. It was the last time you went out with your husband.
That was over a year ago. – He must have watched you for a long time if he saw you that night. How could this happen to you? Maybe he even had a hand in what happened to your husband.
“You looked so cute in that dress,” he nuzzles his face in your hair. “I would’ve loved to take you right there and then.” He chuckles. “August told me to not pay attention to some pussy but I watched you all night. Your smile faded and you hid in a corner as your useless husband flirted with some other woman.”
You don’t say a word, even if your heart is racing. Closing your eyes you try to pretend you are asleep. His words replay in your mind while you struggle to not freak out.
“I set my eyes on you that night,” he tickles your skin with his fingertips. “I knew you’d be a natural submissive - a little lamb.” Walter hums. “You enchanted me with your innocent smile and soft laughter. You didn’t dress to impress but looked like a goddess to me. August calls it an obsession. I call it fate…”
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“Come with me,” Walter wraps his arm around your shoulders and guides you out of the safety of his bedroom. “I told you I got a surprise for you.”
You nod and let him lead the way. What else can you do? His admission from last night is still swirling in your mind. How could you not see that Walter knew you from the beginning?
“You’ll love it, lamb,” he murmurs and nuzzles his face in your neck.
“What is she doing here?” August grunts. He watches you like a hawk and squares his jaw. “I asked you a question, brother. We agreed on letting her stay in the guest room or your bedroom. The rest of this place is taboo.”
“Shut up,” Walter snaps at his brother. “After last night she has every right to be here. She let you fuck her ass and blew you off. We made fifty thousand bucks because of her. Now get out of my way.”
“What? I—”
It’s a small win, but watching August step out of his brother’s way makes you smirk for a second. At least he didn’t lie about protecting you from his brother.
“You heard me, brother. I bore your one-nighters and bimbos for years. If you don’t leave my lamb alone, you will not like my answer.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t live together if you always fight,” you murmur. With your eyes cast down, you can’t see the brothers turn their heads toward you to look down at you.
“Would you look at this cocky little bee,” August roughly cups your face, making you whimper as he forces you to look up at him. “What did you just say?”
“Fighting and arguing isn’t good for your well-being and blood pressure,” you recite one of the articles you read. “You are brothers and shouldn’t be mad at each other all the time.”
“Aw, she’s already worried about me,” Walter kisses your temple. “I knew she’d love me, brother. My sweet little lamb.”
August grunts. “She has a name. Maybe you should use it once in a while.” You glance at August, wondering if he’s as bad as you thought. He’s not wrong. You’d love hearing your name, not only a pet name.
“She likes it,” Walter bites back. “I can call her whatever I want. Maybe one day I’ll call her my wife!”
You suck in a breath.
“What?” August huffs. “You can’t be serious! Walter, you let me fuck her in front of dozens of guys jerking off while we destroyed her holes.”
“See, I share the most precious things with you, and you never appreciate it,” Walter possessively wraps his arm tighter around your shoulders. “Now, let me show Y/N my surprise.”
“Walter!” August calls after his brother. “This isn’t over!”
You follow Walter, stunned and speechless as he tells you how much you will love his surprise…
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charmed-asylum · 2 days
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I swear this man been in back of my head and had a fast pass lord have mercy on me n my thoughts huh this chapter had me feeling some type of way. Like omg this was soooo good. Sad they had this then bc of his job he gone. Would she wait for him would he come back how long etc huh way two of them act it’s just perfect 😭😭😭
BFG (6)
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Summary: He’s new to town and just your type…
Pairing: Reacher x Plussized!Reader
Warnings: fluff, light smut, unprotected sex, cowgirl, angst
A/N: Please consider that I do not follow the exact storyline of season one. Some characters known from the show may appear.
Catch up here: BFG (5)
BFG masterlist
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“Reacher stay away from KJ for the time being. We need to keep things low.” 
You hear Reacher and someone else argue outside of your house. You know the voice. It must be Oscar Finley, the Chief of Detectives of your sleepy little town. 
He likes to come around for coffee, a slice of pie, and a conversation. Finley likes that you are not into gossip and are not from Margrave. Once in a while, he sits at your café to talk to you. - If he finds the time.
“I won’t make any promises if he doesn’t leave Y/N and her business alone,” Reacher’s deep voice dominates the conversation. “He got lucky that you and Roscoe stopped me before I killed him.”
“Reacher, we don’t kill people out of anger.”
“You don’t kill them,” you can hear the smirk in Reacher’s voice. “If he doesn’t stay away from my woman, he’ll regret it.”
Your heart flutters listening to the things Reacher says about you. He tells Finley that you are important to him and that he won’t let anyone hurt you.
“I gotta get inside. I promised Y/N to be on time,” Reacher says. “We will meet tomorrow, and talk about our next steps. Keep it low until then.”
“Keep it low?” Finley asks. “You are the one storming into the restaurant like an angry bull only to knock KJ and his friends out.”
Reacher chuckles. 
“I mean it. We need to be smart. If what we assume is true, we need to be careful. We don’t want to put Y/N or anyone else in this town in danger.”
“We won’t,” Reacher says and opens your door. He silently closes it and sighs deeply.
“Hi,” you greet Reacher. “How was your…” You gasp when your eyes land on his bloody shirt and split knuckles. “No! You got hurt.” You grab his wrist to guide him upstairs and inside your bedroom. “Sit down, I gotta check on you.”
He takes off his shirt, dropping it to the ground. “It’s not my blood.” Reacher shows you his chest. “See. There is nothing to worry about.”
“Your hands,” you remind him of his split knuckles. “You did something to KJ. Right?” 
Reacher watches you walk inside the bathroom to get a first aid kit.
“It’s nothing, peach pie. I had it much worse.”
“That’s no reason to not be worried about you,” you point out as you place the first aid kit on the bed. “I’ll clean the cuts and take care of you.”
“You took very good care of me since we met,” Reacher grabs your hips to guide you between his spread legs. “Why don’t you let me take care of you tonight?” He looks up at you while guiding your hands to his shoulders. 
“Reacher,” you breathe his name. “Stop distracting me! I’m angry at you for getting hurt.”
He gives you one of his rare smiles. “Come here, peach pie,” he grabs you and helps you straddle his lap. “Much better. Now, you can check on me while I check on you.”
“You’re unbelievable,” you wrap one arm around his neck while he is having a blast groping your ass. “Reacher!”
“My hands are fine, Y/N,” he purrs your name. “It’s nothing, really. I swear it doesn’t even hurt.”
“I’ll clean it either way,” you press your lips to his cheek. “Maybe in the showers to get every inch of you clean.”
“Maybe you should get me dirty before you try to get me clean,” he cocks a brow when you wrap your other arm around his neck too. “Or I’ll get you dirty.”
“You’re so…” He claims your lips in a heated kiss before you can say more. Reacher wraps his strong arms around your body and holds you close to his chest. “Reacher.”
“Come on, peach pie. Let me have a taste of your sweetness again before we go back to scolding me for getting hurt.”
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Reacher watches you move on top of him. He grips your hips tighter to guide your movement. “You look so good on top of me,” he husks your name and calls you his sweet peach pie again. “I know you are close.”
You hope that he doesn’t lie. Riding a man is something you don’t feel comfortable most of the time. But you trust Reacher, and he’s strong enough to guide your movement and take every swirl of your hips. “Reacher.”
“I’ve got you, baby. Just let go.” He looks up at you in adoration, mesmerized by the sight of you. “If not, I’ll explode inside of your perfect little cunt.”
“Do it,” you lean over his body to kiss him softly. “Come on. I want to feel it.” You grind into him, pushing yourself and Reacher slowly toward you high. “Fill me up. Leave a reminder that you’ve been here at all.”
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It took you two weeks to clean your diner and replace the broken windows. You reopened the diner and acted like nothing happened.
If you show weakness in front of men like KJ, you are done for. They can sense fear and try to hit your weak spot. 
Reacher won’t stick around for much longer, even though he spent most of his free time with you.
You heard rumors about the deaths of Kliner, KJ, and some other people involved in money laundry.
You had to hear from Roscoe that one of the victims of KJ’s crimes was Reacher’s brother. Joe Reacher fell victim to his investigations.
Reacher didn’t want to talk about his loss, or what happened when he was not with you.
One night he stormed into your house, told you to hide, and pushed a shotgun into your hands. He came back hours later, battered and bruised but alive.
Reacher spent the night with you, fucking all the tension out of your body. He held you tight and promised that the danger was over and that no one would ever threaten you again.
“Y/N, did you hear me?” Sally Ann brings you out of your thoughts. “Are you alright?” she asks, worriedly watching you clean the counter. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” you give her a pained smile. You sigh and shake your head. “It’s nothing. Just a little headache.”
The truth is, you are distracted because you count the minutes before Reacher tells you that he will leave town forever.
Reacher never stays in one place for longer than needed.
This won’t change only because you had sex a few times.
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The day you feared the most arrived two days later. Reacher packed his things and nervously shuffled around your kitchen. He tried to find the right words to say his goodbyes.
He watched you walk inside the kitchen unsure how to tell you it was time to leave.
You showed mercy and took the lead. There was no use in pretending he’ll stay to be with you.
“So, this is goodbye, I guess,” you step before him to run your hand over his wide chest, gently patting it. “I’m gonna miss having you around to eat the leftovers. You’ve got strong hands to repair things too.”
He chuckles, deep and rich.
“Maybe I’ll come back to taste your peach pie,” he smirks, making you chuckle. 
“Reacher don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep,” your eyes sadden, but you smile, nonetheless. You knew from the beginning that he would leave town sooner than later. “But, if you want to come back one day,” you place the key to your house in his hand and close his hand, “you are welcome to stay here again.”
“If I ever come back to town, it’s for you,” he stuffs the keys in his pocket to cup your face. Reacher kisses you softly, savoring the moment you melt into him.
You wrap your arms around his waistline and hide your face in his chest. Fuck, you will miss him like hell. “If you ever come back, I’ll be very happy. The dog too.”
He kisses the top of your head and wraps his arms around you to hold you for a while. Reacher whispers your name and kisses your temple a few times before parting from you.
“I should go now,” he whispers.
“I know…”
You reluctantly let go of Reacher and turn to leave the kitchen to have a moment to calm down and push the tears away. You take deep breaths and try not to cry when he follows you.
“If you ever need my help,” he cups your face, “I left a number on your nightstand. She’s a friend and knows how to find me.”
“Okay,” you swallow thickly. “I want you to be careful. Don’t make me find you to slap your ass.”
He chuckles. “I promise to watch my back.” Reacher kisses you one last time. “I swear.”
“Good.”
You watch him step out of your house and wring your hands.
Watching Reacher walk away is hard. It breaks your heart because he takes a part of you with him. 
He managed to worm his way into your heart within a few weeks, and you don’t know if you’ll ever recover from this whirlwind romance, or whatever you want to call what you had with him.
When he’s out of sight you close the door and start to cry.
“Fuck,” you curse yourself for falling for him.
How could you do this to yourself?
Part 7
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