waynes-multiverse - Tumblr blog

waynes-multiverse · 10 hours

Text

Somehow this chapter was so funny to me! All these exchanges were glorious, love 😂🫶

Montana’s Thor Odinson

Bahaha I’m deceased! That one broke me 🤣 Very accurate, too! Probably the best description of Cormac I’ve heard so far

And Belle catching them making out in Cassie’s office got me, too 😂

That Harry also sounds super charming 😒 And Beau’s “joke” about Rhea being hot… Oh my God! I was right there with Jenny and ready to take him out. My mouth fell legit open when he said that 😆🙈 (Although I loved the callback to the show when he said that about the escaped felon lmfao) Loved that you brought the “Texan 10” back, too!!! I always appreciate it when things from earlier chapters make a comeback.

Speaking of which… her dad is back! I already wondered why you brought up her parents splitting up in the last part 😉 He sounds like a real piece of work as well. No wonder she’s done with men. Her experiences weren’t the best so far… Beau’s “Flattered but I’m forty.” had me rolling 🤣, while Cal’s “Cupcake, you’ll believe this man over your own father?” had me gasping. Yes, why wouldn’t she, stranger???

And that cliffhanger of an ending again! Ugh, why must you do this to me and poor Isabelle? She hasn’t even healed from the last time yet 😂🙈

Great chapter! Loved this one start to finish! 🤍

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to cafekitsune)

A/N - Feedback is my fuel ❤️

three - landslide

PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:

I looked down at my hands, the hands that could’ve stopped everything, stopped her suffering, the hands that were only a flight of stairs and a trip down the hall away. My ignorance at the time was crippling. The cruel thought that Lucy was safe and sound. It resulted in Olivia losing her mom and everything she knew, and having to live with her auntie.

Not that I’m not the best option, but if I’d picked up my metaphorical magnifying glass and looked closer, I’d see. See that things were wrong. Someone was after her, I didn’t know who, but one psycho was out to kill her, and succeeded.

The one of many times someone’s success felt like it twisted my heartstrings. The worst success.

I remembered the desperation that I had when I first investigated Lucy’s murder. The wild look I had in my eyes when I spotted myself in the mirror, and then one like a wounded animal when I wound up battered in a hospital. I didn’t want to go through that again. Not the false hope that I’d get somewhere. I didn’t need it, I didn’t want it, I couldn’t handle it. I’d possibly go feral if I found out the truth, but all the same, Lucy needed me. It was always me and her. When she was nineteen and I was eleven , not wanting to let her go because she was everything I had and more.

I hadn’t had that stable of a home life growing up. My dad cheated on my mom with his secretary and left her when I was three. Mom did the next best thing to dealing with the loss of her husband, which was filling herself brain high with any booze she could find. Lucy had taken the job of taking care of me, and she did a damn good job at it. Even got rewarded with an apple pie, white picket fence life to boot. I couldn’t have been happier for her, because she deserved every bit of happiness she got.

Even if I didn’t want to deal with the inevitable pain of investigating into my sister’s murder, I owed it to her. I needed to bring whoever killed her to justice.

I reached for my phone, dialling the first person that came to mind who’d help me with this case. I bit my lip, jogging my leg as I waited for him to pick up. ‘Hey, darlin’.’ I heard Beau’s voice from the other end, cherry as ever. ‘What can I do for ya?’

“Hey, Sheriff.” I breathed out, looking at the cassette player with stony eyes. “What d’you say to reopening a cold case?”

I slammed a dusty, yet rather small, file down on my desk, with Jenny and Beau gathered around it. “This is what I have from six years ago. My sister, found by me in the backyard, eleven stab wounds in her chest. Cameras were off, no prints, killer didn’t go through the garden as there were no prints. It rained that night, so footprints were washed away.”

“Tough case, huh?” Beau sighed, folding his arms. “No prints, no murder weapon at the scene- the killer ain’t giving you much to work with.”

“No kidding.” Jenny looked over the case files. “Lucy didn’t have any enemies, by what this file says.”

“She didn’t.” I shook my head, sitting on the table. “Luce, she was… an angel, to say the least. Kind to everyone, always optimistic. I’ll be damned if anyone hated her.”

“No motive.” Beau muttered, looking up at me with slightly raised eyebrows. “Could this just be a random crazed psycho?”

“No.” I shook my head again, rubbing my chin. “Can’t be. Whoever it was knew how to get inside the house and through to the back. Only somebody who knew Lucy could do that. Somebody I know or someone she knew murdered her, and I ain’t resting until I find them.”

“Do we at least have any leads?” Jenny rubbed her forehead, looking over to me. “Any at all?”

“The cassette.” I shrugged. “It’s the last thing she left to me, and judging by the sounds behind the voice, it’s Lucy’s 42nd birthday party. I remember it, Mark was doin’ bad karaoke in the living room.”

“So this is essentially a note, but no suicide involved.”

“Somebody was sending threats.” Beau figured out, pointing at the case file with his pencil. “Think about it. Her voice ain’t exactly chirpy in that recording. Maybe a threat was sent, that she was gonna die soon.”

“A necklace.” My head perked up, my fingers snapping. “One of ‘em, it contained a raven’s feather. Or some of it. Lucy was a folklore major.”

“So she’d know it symbolises death and/or loss.” Jenny added, nodding. “That’s a start.”

“That also narrows it down.” Beau nodded, all of us going into a rhythm. “Somebody had to know she’d understand this reference, which also means someone close to her- good work, Belle.” He patted my knee proudly, giving me a broad smile. “At least you’re closer than you were before.”

“Hold on, though.” I held up a hand, frowning as a thought piqued my interest. “If that’s the case, if Lucy wanted to warn me… why now? Why at Olivia’s sweet sixteen?”

“Maybe it was something personal, something important to her.” Jenny shrugged, running a hand through her hair. “Maybe she wanted Olivia’s sixteenth to go smoothly, as if some threat would resurface at that time.”

“That’s what’s stumping me. Which person who we both know would possibly wanna harm my sister? Me, I’d understand, I don’t get on with everyone, but Lucy? Doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

“Is Lucy’s phone still kept safe?” Beau asked, deep in thought. “Maybe there’s some voicemails on there.”

“I’ll have to dig them up.” I replied before hearing a ping on my phone. I took it out, seeing the name lighting up on the screen, which made my eyes widen. I hadn’t seen this name in ages, not since eleven years. Not since I was 29, and I don’t know why I saved the number.

“Who is it, darlin’?” Beau frowned slightly, his lips also pouting imperceptibly as his eyes flickered down to my phone.

“Again with the darlin’?” Jenny chastised, and he let out a small noise in protest. My eyes were glued to my screen, trying to figure out if I was seeing things right. Jenny confirmed for me, snatching the phone out of my hand and taking a look at it, her eyes widening when she saw the name. “Cal Joyner.”

“The cheating dad Cal Joyner?”

“Yeah.” I nodded breathily. “He’s… here. In Montana.”

“Your dad in town, the cassette tape, this can’t be a coincidence. If it is, I’ll eat my hat. And trust me,” He chuckled deeply, “I love my hat.”

“There’s also how you can’t eat a hat.” Jenny contradicted with a judging look.

“I’m the sheriff, Hoyt, I will eat my hat if I damn well please.”

“Right, let’s get off the subject of eating hats.” I interrupted with a snicker. “I’ll talk to Cassie, see if I can get her and Denise to maybe research into possible news stories surrounding Lucy’s death. Maybe also get them to help with figuring out why my deadbeat dad is in town. You guys maybe look through the case files or whatever you can scavenge, see if you can find anything worthwhile.” I raised an eyebrow, looking between them expectantly. “Sound good?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

I didn’t find Denise at the desk in Dewell and Hoyt HQ, so I went straight to Cassie’s office, knocking before opening the door to find… Cassie and Cormac mid-make out. They jumped apart, wiping their lips while Cassie got off the desk, trying to act as if nothing happened.

Well, it’s not everyday that you catch two grown ass people making out on a frickin’ desk.

“Woah, Cassie, get some.” I teased, leaning against the doorframe with a grin. “You too, Cormac, haven’t forgotten you. Montana’s Thor Odinson- now, would you be a stud and give Cass and I a mo’?”

“Gladly.” Cormac hurried out, and I closed the door behind him, turning to Cassie with s as chuckle.

She opened her mouth to speak, but I waved her off. “Beau and Jenny won’t hear a thing.”

“Thank you.” She smiled in relief, breathing out with her hand on her chest.

“You’re welcome. Now, we have a bit of a problem.” I frowned, running a hand through my hair. “We’re reopening my sister’s case.”

“Oh, damn.”

“Indeed. We’ll need all the info we can get from you and Denise on the matter. My dad’s in town too, so I’ll have to see what’s up with that.”

“Wait- Cal Joyner?” Cassie raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. “Cheated on your mom, left when you were three Cal Joyner?”

“The very same.” I nodded, making a face that said I was feeling awkward. You lot can put that to your imagination. “Yeah, so I have to find out why he’s in town now when evidence from my sister’s case has suddenly resurfaced.”

“I’ll get on that with Denise.”

“Yeah, and I’m sorry I interrupted your getting on with Cormac.” I winked with a smirk, unfazed when she looked at me in exasperation.

“You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?” She sighed.

“No, absolutely not.”

I was sitting on my living room couch at midnight, flicking through my photo album of when I was growing up. Lucy’s broad smile and shining eyes when she saw baby me in Mom’s arms just after I was born. Another my first birthday, and Lucy was helping me blow out the candles. Lucy’s eleventh birthday, the last time Lucy was innocent and unassuming before Dad made off with his mistress. Lucy’s sweet sixteen, where she celebrated with Dean, her current best friend, me, a couple of family members and friends, including Mark, who was our next door neighbour’s son at the time. It was safe to say that Mark had always harboured a deep seated jealousy of Dean.

My eyes landed on a photo of Harry and I at a bar, and my heart felt like it was breaking all over again. The guy’s brunette hair and laughing brown eyes had always pierced my heart in a way that I couldn’t fathom. It hurt to know that those eyes didn’t look at me the way they used to anymore.

Harry was the first and last relationship I had after my sister was killed. After the car crash and I was in a bad place, which I labelled as the ‘withdrawal symptoms’ of stopping my investigation, I found him in an unexpected collision in a mall. He brightened everything somehow, made me feel like the only girl in the world until I found a text in his phone along with a very inappropriate picture.

Rhea: See you tonight, handsome ;)

I couldn’t help but think that he was just pitying me, pretending so he’d get the satisfaction that he helped someone to some extent. But here I was, moping over a guy like I was some hormonal teenager rather than a mature 40 year old. For a relationship that didn’t even feel real at this point.

After that point, I’d sworn off love and men entirely, instead deciding to focus on Olivia. The beautiful little girl who was my last blood reminder of my sister. Well, the last morally sound reminder. For the first three years, in the pursuit of my sister’s murderer, I’d neglected what I really needed to preserve. So I’d set up a rule - that men weren’t my priority.

“Aunt Isa?” Olivia was at the door to the living room, rubbing her eyes tiredly. I sat up, frowning as I saw her looking exhausted but freaked.

“Yeah, sweetheart? It’s late; are you ok?” I asked softly, my motherly instincts kicking in as I saw her trembling slightly. I didn’t wait for a response, setting the album aside and opening my arms. “C’mere, darlin’.” She hurried over, curling up in my arms. I held her tight to me, stroking her hair as I rubbed her back, my chin resting on her head as I let her calm down a bit. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Nightmare. About mom’s death.”

“You didn’t see your mom dyin’, sweetie.” I kissed her hair lovingly. “It wasn’t real.”

“I imagined it. Filled in the blanks, and it was like I was watching.” I heard her voice tremble, which broke my heart at every quiver. I hated seeing my baby girl upset.

“Oh, Liv.” I whispered, kissing her forehead. “Sweetheart, I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry you had to imagine that.”

“Is this how you felt?” She questioned timidly, looking up at me, her blue eyes pleading me to be honest. “When you… when you found her?”

I paused, thinking about it. “If I was to describe it, it’d be like my world’s walls were fallin’ down. It was that, plain and simple. Your mom, she was an angel. Like you, she never truly got mad, she cared no matter what you did, she gave a lot of credit where it ain’t due. She took care of me even when I was your age and mopin’ about for no apparent reason, even though she worked a job. She couldn’t be more prouder of you, wherever she is.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” I nuzzled my cheek on her head. “You’re such a beautiful girl, Liv. So smart, and kind, I know for a fact that if your mother was here, she’d never wanna let you go.” I stroked her hair, remembering Lucy. Her smile, her laugh, her tendency to call everyone ‘love’ because she had a damn lot to give herself, her frightened voice when making the tape…

I couldn’t focus on that. Instead, I hugged Olivia tight, focusing on her. She needed to feel safe. Deserved to feel safe, and that was what I could do for her. I started to softly sing the song that Lucy sang Liv when she was a baby, gently rocking her. It was Landslide, by Fleetwood Mac.

“I took my love, I took it down, I climbed a mountain and I turned around. And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills 'til the landslide brought me down...”

I was sitting in Jenny’s kitchen with Beau and Jenny, of course, the latter busy making lunch since I’d handled our breakfast. I was, again, scrolling on my Instagram, most of my feed Harry and Rhea the redhead. The guy even had the audacity to tag me in a photo, which I didn’t respond to or react to. Beau’s eyes followed mine, locking on the screen with a frown. “That’s Harry the jackass. Why are you lookin’ at photos of Harry the jackass?”

“He’s with the redhead he cheated on me with. Rhea.” I explained with a sigh, and he snatched the phone, not giving me time to protest as he looked at Rhea with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he smirked, nodding.

“I see the appeal.” He chuckled, looking at me playfully. Jenny gasped in horror, swatting his arm while I looked at him incredulously, taken aback by his audacity. “I mean, she’s gorgeous-”

“Beau!” Jenny scolded while I looked away, starting to internally panic. He… thought Rhea was gorgeous? Did he really? Was Harry justified in leaving me because I wasn’t good enough?

“I’m messin’ with you!” Beau raised his hands in surrender, taking another look at the photo before handing my phone back to me. “Sweetheart, Harry the jackass doesn’t even know who he’s lost. This Rhea girl? Doesn’t even hold a candle to you. She’s an LA three, or a Texas one. You are a ten in both worlds, darlin’. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“Thanks, Sheriff.” I sighed in relief, rubbing my face. Jenny patted Beau’s shoulder, giving him a look that said ‘I was about to rip your head off’. “You got me there for a second.”

“I got Hoyt too.”

“Yes, he did.” Jenny nodded, glaring playfully at Beau. “If you’d said that truthfully, no joking, I’d rain down hellfire.”

“Well, I’m glad I was just poking some fun.” Beau smirked, then patted my knee. “You’re gorgeous, Southern Belle. Ain’t no messing around there.”

I was about to smile and give him a compliment back, but I got a call from Cassie, and I picked it up, putting it to my ear. “Talk to me, Cassie.” I said, taking a breath out while a small chuckle threatened to escape my mouth.

‘Hey. Uh, Cormac just spotted your father at the Blue Fox Diner.’

“Cormac, huh?”

‘Yes. Now, we’re keeping an eye on him, but you should get over here quick.’

“Gotcha.” I nodded, then cut the call, turning to Beau. “Sheriff, can I have you as backup? So I don’t blow up at my dad?”

“Yeppers, let’s go meet the man who ruined your life so I can make him feel guilty.” He stood up, slinging his jacket over his shoulders.

“Beau, as be nice as you can.” Jenny chastised, but he shrugged.

“Sorry, Hoyt, no can do. If she hates him,” Beau made finger guns at me, “then I hate him.” He turned the finger guns on himself. “Can’t help it, it’s principle. Now, c’mon, Belle. Let’s meet this dude.”

I walked into Blue Fox diner, Beau rubbing his hands in excitement. “D’you mind if I get one of them there sandwiches?” He looked like a giddy schoolboy, and I rolled my eyes with a smile and nodded. Beau was always a sucker for Donno’s sandwiches. As he practically skipped off to get one, I found Donno staring at me. I locked eyes with him, then he broke into a small smile.

“Elle.” He said in a deadpan voice that did not match his face, but I’d come to know over the past two months that Donno was a lot more compassionate than he let on.

“Donno.” I grinned, feeling more at ease. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too.” His eyes went down to my stomach, where I found that my hand was resting protectively over my healing bullet wound. “You were shot.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you ok?”

“I was shot, good eye.” I nodded, chuckling as I looked down at my feet. “But hey, I’m doing fine. Healing.”

“Good. I don’t like seeing you hurt.” Then he pointed to a booth, where a balding man was sitting. “That’s your dad. If you’re looking for him.”

I gave him a genuine smile, my eyes furtively glancing to that booth. “Thanks, Donno.”

“You and Sheriff. You make a good couple.”

I didn’t really know what to say to that. “Uh… thank you, but we’re not a couple.” And with the awkwardness now in play, I turned on my heel and met up with Beau, who was now holding a sandwich and munching on it. I nudged him, nodding to the booth which Donno had led me to, and he clocked Cal instantly. His eyes narrowed, and he swallowed his bite as we sat down. “Cal Joyner.”

“Can I help you?” He asked, looking between Beau and I with a confused expression.

“Sheriff Beau Arlen, sir.” Beau introduced coldly, his eyes steely as he looked at my father with pure disdain in his eyes. I’d mentioned my family history to him, which made him have a deep seated hatred with my dad.

“Deputy Isabelle Joyner.” I added, which, as expected, made Cal’s eyes widen as he sat up straighter, a wide grin cracking on his face.

“Isabelle?” He whispered, tilting his head as he scanned me. “You’re… oh, God. It’s really you. My little girl.”

“Back up for a moment, cowboy, I’m not here for a family reunion.” I frowned, drumming on the table with my fingers. “I’m here to know why you’re in town. My last contact with you was eleven years ago, and that was on a voice call.”

“It was my granddaughter’s sixteenth birthday.” He excused, looking at me incredulously while his fingers played with his collar, and I locked on the mannerism immediately. “I had to visit, right? But this town’s so big, i-it’s hard to find anybody-”

“You’re lying.” Beau pointed out, expression unchanging. Cal turned to him with an outraged expression.

“Excuse me, young man?”

“Flattered, but I’m forty. Ain’t that young.”

“He’s right, Cal. You’re lying.” I frowned, my fingers still tapping out an insistent rhythm on the table. After all these years, he’d had a character arc going from scumbag to scumbag.

“Isabelle.” Cal gasped in disbelief. “Cupcake, you’ll believe this man over your father?”

“Not to be cheesy, but this man is one of the most noble men I know, so I’m sure I can trust him over a man who’s been out of my life for thirty seven years.” Cal was ready to convince me otherwise, but I held up my hand. “You’re fiddling with your collar. First sign of anxiety and possible lying. Big Sky is rather a small place, everyone knows everyone, so I don’t see how it would take you long to find me. Third, defensiveness. Trying to detach me from someone I trust- so tell me, how can I trust you?”

“You can’t.” He whispered, but his eyes, which I shared (to my disgust), looked into mine with a silent plea. Which I ignored.

“There it is. The one thing I couldn’t do and never did: trust you.” I scoffed, and Beau leaned forward, taking the lead.

“See here, Mr Joyner, you are Belle’s father, and I will respect you that much, but a lot’s happened that somehow coincides with your arrival.” He explained with a low, intimidating tone. I glanced towards him, taking in his set jaw and raised finger. “Now, you’re gonna tell your daughter why you came back after all this damn time or we’re gonna find out usin’ methods that you won’t approve of, ie hard questioning and digging into the evidence we have, which I bet will uncover some nasty secrets.”

“It’s good that you elaborated.”

“Yeah, it is. Now, Mr Joyner, you need to speak up before we find out ourselves.” Before Cal could reply, we heard a loud bang and a scuffle, and when my head turned, I saw Donno wrestling a guy with a gun to the ground. Beau turned to me, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Stay put.”

“You know I can’t do that.” I protested, reaching for my own holster, but he grabbed my wrist with a warning look. I wanted to argue, but I knew what he was insinuating. I wasn’t healed yet, so I couldn’t fight.

“Stay. Put.” He then pulled out his gun, holding it up at the assailant. “Sheriff’s department, hands where I can see ‘em!” My eyes were locked on him, ready to jump in and help if need be while Donno was growling at the man for almost pulling a gun on me. I saw Tonya getting up from her chair, pointing behind me with a gasp.

“Elle!” She cried out, looking terrified. “Behind you!” I whipped around only for my head to snap back around, the muzzle of a gun connecting with my temple. My vision went blurry as my head spun, but I could make out an unfamiliar figure in the haze that I instantly tackled blindly, collapsing onto the floor in an undignified heap coupled by what felt like a gigantic needle through the hole in my stomach. I coughed for a moment, my hand covering the area as I was roughly rolled onto my back amid the struggle between Donno, Beau and the assailant. I managed to make out the silver glint of a knife, so I quickly crossed my forearms over one another and held them over my face so I could catch it just in time.

After what was a struggle for a few seconds, the guy seemed to have a change of heart, throwing the knife aside and getting me in the temple again with a gloved fist this time.

Neither of them felt great.

I heard Cal protesting against something, and Beau’s shouts as the former was seemingly roughly dragged away, my vision going from blurry to borderline black as I tried to recall… what the guy looked like. I could remember… grey hair, possibly Mexican… or Hispanic… strong… build… 6’ 4”…

“Belle! Stay with me, damn it! This is Sheriff Arlen, I need paramedics and backup…”

LMF TAGLIST:

@deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @nancymcl @winharry

Let me know if you want to join the taglist, and do reblog or comment with your feedback, I’d appreciate it! Comment if you want an author’s cut :)

Love, Arty 💕

#wayne reads #fic rec #beau arlen x original female character

27 notes · View notes

waynes-multiverse · 12 hours

Text

I adore all the Supernatural references in this! From Dean’s name to his green eyes to that line about ghosts and demons. I love finding things like these in fics 💚

And, oh boy, Mark’s entrance already annoyed the hell out of me. No wonder he’s so hated by everyone 😒 The audacity indeed!

Beau was so adorable and caring with her throughout this chapter. I love a good slow burn and live for those little touches and moments in-between 😍

The shoebox had me in tears! What a sweet idea to leave behind for your child 🥺 And then that tape! I hoped she would’ve left more revealing clues behind, but it was so heartbreaking what she told her little sister. Hopefully, they can solve her murder for good this time 🙏 I also loved the bits and pieces of flashbacks to her accident. (And her sister’s nickname for her is so perfect – sunflowers are my favorite btw 🌻)

Oh, and Beau’s “Texan 10” line took me out 😂Such a Beau thing to say! You’re nailing his character 💯

Wonderful chapter, love!

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to cafekitsune)

A/N - feedback is my fuel :)

two - sunflower

PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:

I crept down the stairs, treading light in fear of startling Will. I gently tried the door, hearing a little girl whimpering. Then I spotted a middle aged man holding a gun, and a small brunette girl hugged my legs, terrified.

“It’s ok.” I whispered, training my gun on Will Brown. “It’s ok, sweetheart. As for you,” My eyes focused on the man, “Sheriff’s department, put your hands where I can see ‘em-” He fired, and my trigger was pulled in a quick response, aiming for his shoulder while his bullet got me clean in the gut, which was caused by me moving to protect Harriet at the same time. The little girl screamed, while Beau and Jenny started yelling from upstairs. I collapsed against the wall, sliding down as Harriet crawled up to me, looking terrified.

“He hurt you.” She whispered, crying, but I shushed her and brought her head to my shoulder, ignoring the riddling pain in an attempt to soothe this little girl.

“Hey, it’s-” I was overcome by a cough as my hand moved to stem the flow of blood, “it’s ok, sweetheart. Perfectly fine, you’re safe, ok?” I stroked her hair, closing my eyes briefly as the red liquid stained my fingers. My head spun from how damn painful it was, like a thousand daggers piercing one spot on me, driving in slowly. “Just calm down for me, my friends are coming.”

As if on cue, Beau and Jenny rushed in, and once they realised that my attacker and Harriet’s kidnapper was downed, their attention turned to me. Beau instantly knelt in front of me while Jenny checked up on Will, his expression freaked out and pale. “Jesus- Jesus holy Christ, Belle, we’re gonna need a paramedic. Hoyt, call it in, now!” Then he turned back to me, putting his hands over the bullet wound to put pressure. I coughed slightly, hissing, but I kept stroking Harriet’s hair, not wanting her to get too scared.

“Just get her out of here.” I nodded to Harriet. “I’ll hold on, just keep her safe.” My bloodied hand reached out to grip Beau’s bare forearm. “Take her home.”

NOW:

The world around me turned from black to blurry colour as I opened my eyes, the cold breeze of somewhere unfamiliar hitting my face as I groaned softly. My finger twitched, something heavy clamped onto it, making me let out a small, admittedly pathetic whine of confusion. My head hurt slightly, and there was a bearable throbbing pain in my stomach. I saw a woollen blanket over me, the room smelling of antiseptic and the walls painted blue and white with telltale plastic chairs and tables beside the bed, along with monitors beeping with my vitals on display on either side of me. The tables had flowers and small presents on it. The hell would someone be thinkin’ to give me all this? My head fell back against the pillows piled up behind my head as I registered where I was.

The hospital.

“God, it’s been a while since I was in one of these.” I grunted to myself, then I found a nurse standing at the door. She smiled upon seeing me awake, instantly coming over to take the tube out that was inserted into my arm.

“You’re awake, Deputy Joyner.” She chuckled, looking at me in admiration. “My name’s Lydia, I’m your nurse. Your vitals seem stable, so I can report back to Dr Jones and also notify your visitors to come and see you, if that’s fine with you.”

“How long have I been out?” I asked, coughing slightly. I felt at ease around Lydia, her friendly disposition making the fact that I had a bullet wound in my stomach a lot more bearable. I caught sight of myself in a mirror- tired, worn out, almost identical to who I saw six years ago in a hospital mirror, minus the cuts and bruises.

“Six days. You suffered from blood loss, so it’s understandable.” The information almost made my heart shatter. It was Liv’s birthday tomorrow, and had I not woken up today, her auntie would be in hospital when she was needed the most. I turned to Lydia, nodding slightly.

“A-Alright. Who’re my visitors?”

“Quite a few, actually. There’s Jenny Hoyt, Emily Arlen, Cassie Dewell, Denise Brisbane, Beau Arlen, Olivia Barlowe and Dean Barlowe.” I wasn’t surprised that Mark wasn’t on the list, but I smiled anyway, knowing that I’d be seeing one of my best friends, Dean, after a long time.

“Let ‘em in.” I grinned, and she nodded, leaving. A minute later, the room was now full of every person on that list, all of them exclaiming in relief that I was ok, making me laugh. “Guys, I’m ok.”

“The hell you are, you had a bullet in you!” Dean scoffed, though there was a wide grin as he came over and hugged me cautiously. I patted his back, looking him in his green eyes with a smile.

“Well, now I am. Nice to see you, pal.”

“I’d say it’s nice to see you, but you’re in a hospital bed, so I’m gonna say it’s nice to see you alive.”

“Don’t hog her, dad.” Olivia pouted, practically shoving Dean away (albeit half-heartedly) before bear hugging me in a way that I wouldn’t get hurt. I stroked her hair, kissing it as I took a deep breath out.

“I’ll always have time for my baby girl.” I grinned, rubbing her back as I felt her shaking and holding back tears. “I’m ok, sweetie. I’m safe.” I shushed her gently, my eyes closing as I rested my cheek on her head. I opened them, looking up to Beau and Jenny with a small nod. Then my eyes landed on Emily, and I chuckled softly, raising my hand slightly from Liv’s back. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey, Elle.” Emily grinned, waving. I sent her a smile in response, my eyes glancing to Beau briefly before back at his daughter.

“Givin’ your dad any trouble?”

“No, no trouble.”

“Good.” I then let go of Olivia, kissing my niece’s forehead before looking at Jenny, Denise and Cassie, who all looked sympathetic. “Y’all need to stop lookin’ at me like that. I’ll be up and about in a few hours, like hell I’m missing my girl’s sweet sixteen.”

“You need to rest up, Belle.” Beau interjected softly, gesturing to me. “You took a bullet to the gut.”

“I’ll rest up when I’m dead.” I joked, moving to sit up, and Beau, with his Southern gentlemanliness, instantly stepped forward to make sure I didn’t strain myself.

“Easy, easy.” He helped me sit up, pulling the blanket further over me. “Don’t push yourself, ok?”

“You got sent presents.” Cassie pointed to the flowers and small gifts. “The Browns were ecstatic that you brought their daughter back.”

“So they sent over some beautiful forget-me-nots.” Jenny smiled, coming over to pat my shoulder. “We’re so glad you’re ok.”

“Bo-Bo, she deserves a raise.” Denise snickered, looking at Beau and waggling her eyebrows.

“Shush, Denise, I’m doing my job.” I chuckled. “The one I signed up to do, remember? You’re bound to get a bullet or two out there.”

The next day, it was Olivia’s birthday, and I’d gotten myself discharged from the hospital so I could be there for my baby girl. I had to wear a button-up dark blue plaid shirt, since that was easier to get on with a hole in your stomach, along with some comfy jeans. I was looking at a photo of my sister, Lucy, who was eight years older than me. Even so, she treated me like I was her everything, and she was mine too.

“Hey, Luce.” I whispered, my thumb rubbing over her broad smile. It was almost like she was here with me, with that twinkle in her blue eyes that we shared and her brunette hair that was cropped at her chin but still somehow fell in beautiful waves that made her look ethereal. “It’s been a while. Six years, to be exact, and I miss you. Dean misses you, Mark does, Liv especially. She’s grown up to be so… so beautiful, so you.

You’d be so proud of her, Luce, she even has your brains and we’re all the better for it.” I laughed a bit, then looked back. “I wish you could see her, I really do, but I hope you’re watching. Wherever you are. Love you.” I kissed my hand, pressing it to the frame while my memories with her flashed in front of my eyes like a film reel. “I love you so much.”

“Aunt Isa?” I heard from the door, turning to see Olivia. She looked stunning, wearing a pretty blue sundress that was decorated with yellow flowers, her hair done up with a matching blue flower clip and some yellow flats.

This was my sister’s daughter.

“Liv, honey.” I smiled broadly, going to hug her immediately. “You look gorgeous. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Really?”

“Really. If I made a daughter from scratch, I’d want her to be you.” The words made a goofy smile appear on her face, and she hugged me again quickly. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, auntie.”

When I pulled away, I stroked her cheek before remembering something. “Oh! Uh, your mom, before she died, she had a shoebox that she wanted to give to you on your sweet sixteen.”

“A…” Liv’s eyes narrowed, “shoebox?”

“Sounds lame, I know. But…” I hurried over to look underneath my bed, pulling out a grey shoebox with ‘Olivia’ written in Lucy’s neat handwriting. I passed it to her for her to open. Olivia took the box with slightly shaky hands, opening the top.

Inside were multiple cassette tapes, eleven when I counted, of Lucy’s favourite songs, along with a couple of first edition books and pieces of her jewellery. Necklaces, rings, at the forefront a charm containing a raven’s feather. The jewellery were mostly silver, but the few gold ones I recognised were from her weddings. Her engagement rings along with a golden locket that Dean had given her. Along with photos of Olivia growing up until she was nine years old.

But something caught my eye.

I saw one of the eleven cassette tapes had a word that I recognised all too well.

Sunflower.

While Olivia was busy admiring the necklaces, I nicked the tape from the box, storing it in the pocket of my jeans. I noticed a large shadow cover the light from the door, and I saw Beau there. I could trust Beau with this. He could help me, so could Jenny and Cassie. I quickly exchanged a look with him that he understood, so he put on a smile, strolling over and clapping me on the shoulder.

“There’s my Southern Belle, all up an’ about. From a Texan to a Kansan, you are what I’d call a Texan 10, even in a faded plaid.” He grinned, squeezing my shoulder slightly and winking before turning to Olivia. “And you, young lady, must be Olivia.”

“That’s me.” Liv nodded, looking between Beau and I. “And you must be Aunt Isa’s favourite sheriff.”

“While I appreciate it, I’m the only sheriff.”

“Exactly.”

“Liv, sweetheart, can you go downstairs? I’ve gotta bring the cake, but start opening your presents.” I said to Olivia with a sigh. I kissed her hair, smoothing it back for a moment before letting her go, and then I turned to Beau when I knew she was out of earshot.

“Something’s up, right?” He frowned, folding his arms and tilting his head. “Talk to me, Belle.”

I held up the cassette tape, a long sigh leaving my mouth. “Titled ‘sunflower’. It’s the nickname my sister used to call me, so I can’t help but think if this is a message seen six years too late.”

“Or something that got mixed up in the wrong box.”

“That’s also a possibility.” I nodded, then pouted in thought. “I’ve got a cassette player somewhere in my study. After Liv’s celebration here is over and she’s out with her friends, whaddya say we have a lil’ listen to it?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Beau agreed, then his eyes landed on the framed photo of my sister and I. “That’s Lucy, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“She looks just like her sister.” He rubbed my arm comfortingly, the backs of his fingers grazing my skin. “How much older was she?”

“Eight years.” I replied softly, leaning slightly into his touch, even though I didn’t quite register it.

“Ah, so she’d be lordin’ it over us if she was still alive. Even a forty-year-old sheriff can’t escape the clutches of an older sister.”

“Neither can a forty year old deputy.” I chuckled, and his hand moved down to hover in front of mine, but my pinky wrapped around his, my breath hitching as I thought of the day I’d skipped down the stairs six years ago and found my sister dead in the garden, multiple knife wounds in her chest. Then the weeks after where I searched and searched for any leads but found none.

My head snapped forward, glass breaking and flying to the left, cutting my cheek as the seatbelt tightened on my chest. My forehead banged against the wheel, a cry escaping my mouth-

“Hey, Deputy.” Beau’s low timbre snapped me out of it again, I looked into his warm green eyes, the ones I’d grown to trust with my life. “You doin’ ok?”

“I… yeah.” I nodded, cracking a smile. “Let’s go celebrate my baby girl’s birthday, hm?” Then I started making my way downstairs, taking the cake from a side room before emerging into the kitchen/dining room and setting it on the counter. Carla, Mark, Dean, Poppernak, Jenny, Cassie, Denise, Cormac (surprisingly) and Emily were all there, and let out a loud cheer upon seeing me up on my feet.

“There she is!” Jenny grinned, pointing to me.

“Deputy of the Month.” Poppernak added with a smile.

“Pops, what did Sheriff say about sucking up?” I winked before going over to hug them each, reaching Carla, who I smiled at happily. “Carla, it’s so good to see you.”

“You too.” She hummed, patting my back before looking me in the eye. “Beau told me about the shooting; are you ok?”

“Perfectly fine, just a few surface scratches, not enough to down me.” I chuckled, then turned to the cake, unboxing it quickly. It was a chocolate cake with vanilla icing and caramel drizzle, and it had ‘Happy Birthday Olivia’ in swirling chocolate piping. I kissed Olivia’s temple, patting her shoulder as I whispered in her ear. “Your mom’s necklace suits you.”

“Hey, kiddo.” Mark walked over with a smile I knew was forced for Olivia’s sake. “Isabelle.”

“Markham.”

“I got Olivia’s present.” He held out a gift-wrapped box, which I put to the side. “Look, you must be really tuckered out from the bullet. I could take Liv for until you get better-”

“I think I’m good.” I smiled briefly, nodding curtly. “I can take care of other people even with a bandage on me. But, uh, thanks for offering.”

He lowered his voice so Olivia couldn’t hear. “I don’t appreciate you keeping my daughter from me. This is why I made the custody claim.”

“Can we not talk about this on my niece’s birthday?” I asked in clipped tones, but I still put on a smile. “I’d hate to dampen everyone else’s parade with your half-assed smiles and trivial personal matters.”

Mark’s grey eyes bore into me for a moment, but then I felt the looming presence of Beau behind me, which seemed to prompt him to back off.

Jenny, Cassie, Beau and I sat down in front of a cassette player once everyone had cleared out. I held the tape between my fingers, trembling slightly as I wanted to find out what Lucy wanted to tell me. Or if it was all in my head.

“When you’re ready.” Jenny patted my back, giving me the strength I needed to put the tape in, shutting the compartment with a click and pressing the play button. The tape whirred, a voice crackling to life. Lucy’s voice.

‘Hey, sunflower.’ It was her. Clear as day, exactly how I remembered her from six years ago. Beau’s hand automatically covered mine, a subtle gesture that told me that he was there. Her voice was shaky, unsure, nothing like the honeyed tones and sweet, soft syllables that I’d known since I was born and even before that. ‘I don’t know if you’ll ever hear this, but I want you to know that I love you. I… I had to tell you somehow, but things were getting worse. Much worse, but I didn’t want to worry you. You were so happy with Jack, and I miss you. I guess after a while it hit me. That not having you around makes things that much harder, because it was always you and me. You… and me. Never forget that.’

“Luce.” I whispered as the player clicked, telling me that the recording was over. “What were you hiding from me?”

“I’m so sorry, Elle.” Cassie sighed, rubbing my shoulder.

“My apologies, sweetheart.” Beau rumbled in agreement while Jenny pressed her cheek to my other shoulder to give me comfort. My breath was shaky, as the reality dawned on me like the sun on a night sky when it was the crack of daylight.

My sister’s murder case wasn’t as open and shut as I’d initially thought, and it terrified me.

I woke up in a hospital, panting and spotting the angry scarlet bruises and cuts-

“Belle.” Beau’s voice lulled me out like it always did, and I held onto that sound- his deep, coaxing words that I couldn’t help but relax to - like a lifeline.

Like the only lifeline I had.

“Yeah, I’m with you, just…” I took a deep breath in, “last time I investigated my sister’s murder, I ended up on the tail end of a hit ‘n’ run.” I exhaled the breath, “Ain’t my finest moment.”

I scrolled through Instagram, since Olivia had taught me how to use it over a long and chaotic three hours, and the first thing I conveniently saw was my ex boyfriend Harry McIntyre with his pretty redhead girlfriend, the one who he cheated on me with. The lights of the bar illuminated my drink in purples, greens and blues, and I was beginning to enjoy the silence and tranquility of drinking alone.

“Isabelle.” Markham slid into the seat in front of me, making me roll my eyes oh-so-obviously in hope it would ward him off like salt does a ghost or demon.

It didn’t work. Just. My. Luck.

“Markham.” I replied coolly, sipping my beer as a thousand thoughts ran through my head about how I should stay calm and not deck this man in the face just to honour and respect my elder sister’s memory. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m not exactly going to be subtle or quiet about this, Isabelle.” He frowned, leaning forward slightly. “I am Olivia’s father, and you need to give custody over to me.”

“And I’m not gonna be subtle or quiet about this either, Markham.” I retorted, my mouth set in a thin line. “Lucy left me as Olivia’s legal guardian in her will. I plan to keep it that way. And, mind you, she’s your stepdaughter. I’d rather let Dean be her legal guardian.”

“I don’t trust Dean.”

“You don’t trust anyone!”

“Look, he just doesn’t come off as the good guy to me.” Mark persisted, but I took a sip of my beer and shook my head, scoffing. The audacity of this man.

“And you do?” I frowned, tilting my head in confusion and partial anger.

“I never said that.”

“Sounds like you did.”

“I just think Olivia would be safer with me.”

“Ok, Mark, let me make this very clear.” I smiled, but not the usual one. It was rather… menacing, because my eyes glinted dangerously. “I don’t want my night of peaceful drinkin’ to be ruined. You almost rained on a sunny day when you tried to bring this up at my niece’s birthday party. I’m not giving Olivia up. That girl means the world to me, and I ain’t keen on sending her to you. I do that when I’m on duty, but when I’m not, she’s with me. And it’ll stay that way, y’hear?”

Mark looked like he was about to argue, but my look silenced him. He shrank back, then got up and instantly went out the door. I laughed slightly, gesturing for a shot of tequila from the bartender. I’d had this conversation with Markham before, and it never, never ended in a mutual, calm agreement.

‘You… and me. Never forget that.’ I played that sentence over and over, listening to the quake in Lucy’s voice that only deepened the guilt in my gut to the point where it felt like the Mariana Trench. I remembered when the only expression on her face was pure happiness, and I could never understand why she was so optimistic, or even how she maintained it. All I knew was that I loved it. Too much, sometimes, to the point where Lucy was my everything and I was hers, in the best way possible.

It was always you and me.

It was, wasn’t it?

The one of many times someone’s success felt like it twisted my heartstrings. The worst success.

Even if I didn’t want to deal with the inevitable pain of investigating into my sister’s murder, I owed it to her. I needed to bring whoever killed her to justice.

“Hey, Sheriff.” I breathed out, looking at the cassette player with stony eyes. “What d’you say to reopening a cold case?”

LMF TAGLIST:

@deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @nancymcl

PREVIEW OF CHAPTER THREE

#wayne reads #fic rec #beau arlen x original female character

44 notes · View notes

waynes-multiverse · 13 hours

Text

I love the whole premise of this, and the fact it’s based on that Spidey meme is just the cherry on top 😂 What a genius idea, truly! This whole story just screams chaos and I’m here for it 😁👏

Also, that antiques salesman reminded me of that one from Rick & Morty, who sold all that magical broken crap 😆

And of course, Dean pops up with some pie in his hands! Can’t wait for the others to come in and see how they interact 🤓

The Choice: Chapter One

Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn't be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there's a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.

Characters: You, Antiques salesman, mother, cute black cat.

Chapter Warnings: Pain in the ass mother, language.

W/C: 1,220

A/N: Soley thought of this idea just for that Spiderman meme.

The bell to the antiques store tinkled as you opened the door. As you stepped in, the proprietor of the store moved away from behind the counter. The place was cluttered, and everything in sight was for sale.

“Hi there, interested in purchasing something today?”

He was a kindly-looking older gent, who reminded you of your pops, and you couldn’t help but smile warmly at him.

“Potentially. Just browsing, for now.”

“Looking for anything in particular?” He enquired as you started to browse.

You shrugged. “Not really.”

He smiled then. “Ah. You won’t know what you’re looking for until it finds you.” He said with a twinkle in his eye.

You chuckled and nodded. Yeah, you could agree with that.

It didn’t take long for you to find something. Your eye had landed on a trifold oval picture frame. And for the price tag, you were tempted. Very tempted.

“Ah a lovely set. Baroque features in the detailing. Could do with a possible restoration, but a proper clean would also suffice.”

You fingered the tag again, it was a hundred dollars.

“Tell ya what. I’ll knock off ten bucks. How does that sound?”

You looked at him then.

“You don’t think I don’t know the look of someone finding an item they can’t walk away from? Darlin’ you got that look. You got it bad.”

It was just a picture frame. A dumb little picture frame, but why did it give you so much joy to look at? You weren’t much of a haggler and it would seem rude to haggle the price after he had already generously knocked off ten percent.

“Alright, you got yourself a deal.”

He shook your hand. “Excellent.”

He picked up the item and very carefully began meandering his way back to the counter with you following him. He set the item down gently and rung up the purchase.

“Such a pretty little find. And it was a shame that it had been hiding in a box, before coming here.”

You gave him a quizzical look and he held up a hand before disappearing into the back for a few moments and coming back with a small wooden box. He placed it on the counter in front of you. Your hands reached out towards it. The wooden box looked plain compared to the delicate and intricate detailing on the frame. It was finished with a dark varnish and what was with the strange script etched into the grain? Was it Elvish, or Sanskrit, or even Latin? You had no idea. A simple clasp locked the box. Easy to use. Either way, now you had a keepsake box also.

“It’s my understanding that the original owner had passed away and his living relatives didn’t want it and, well here it is.”

“Well, it’s their loss.”

“Of course, of course. If they hadn’t, then you never would have found it.”

He took your cash and then handed you the receipt. He bid you a good rest of your day as you lifted the box and the picture frame and made your way out of the store.

You placed the final photo in the frame. Slid the locks, and placed the frame on your sideboard, angling it so you could appreciate it all that little bit more. You sighed in contentment as three of your favourite fictional men smiled seemingly at you from beside your TV.

The door knocked and by the light raps you knew who it was. This time, you sighed heavily and muttered “God, give me strength” before going to open the door. You’d only opened it a crack before she started to barge her way in.

“Y/N, honestly, what are you wearing? Pyjama’s during daytime? I don’t know. Go put on some proper clothes.”

You looked down. Now you were annoyed. It was loungewear for God’s sake. Perfectly acceptable.

“Mother, what I’m wearing should be of no concern to you and its just gone five, and it’s a Saturday.”

She sniffed and made her way into your lounge. She tutted at the clutter.

“Don’t you ever tidy up?”

You rolled your eyes and sat down. “What did you come here for? To pick faults or was there an actual reason?”

“Your father—”

“Not my father.” You stated.

Your mother had married her partner not long after your father’s passing and now, she acted as though he had been in your life since birth.

She continued, like you hadn’t interrupted her.

“—and I have been talking. You know that nice young man that started last year, Cole—"

“Wait, you’re not seriously trying to set me up?”

Your mother looked a little put out.

“Well, it can’t hurt to get back out there. Get back on the horse or so to speak.”

You sat there shocked. Then it turned to anger.

“Are you ashamed of me? Are you ashamed that your one and only daughter is a divorcee!”

“Ashamed, no. Disappointed, yes.”

It was like a punch to the gut and the hurt stabbed at your heart. You’d suspected your mother had opinions on your divorce but to voice her disappointment a year and a half after finalization felt like a kick in the teeth. It left you speechless.

“Is that new? I have to say I don’t think it goes with the room. Who are those men? Are they from your shows? Honestly Y/N. I don’t know what to do with you sometimes.”

Your mother had continued to ramble on whilst you were still reeling from her comment. At that moment your all black cat slinked in, jumping up and made her way over to your mother’s lap.

“If you’re not careful, this is your future.” She said nodding to the cat.

You looked at her then.

“I think you should leave, mother.”

She turned her head, facing you. She looked like a goldfish with the way her mouth kept opening and closing. Then her lips pursed together, and she stood, with the cat leaping from her. She made a disgusted sound, discovering the amount of cat hair had malted on her. You handed her a nearby lint brush, and she furiously started scrubbing at the hair on her skirt. She then stood and bid you a good evening and purposefully walked to the door. Your mother didn’t wait, slamming the door on her way out. You scrubbed your hand down your face muttering about her audacity.

You plonked yourself on the sofa, grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. The cat had been fed and was currently God knows where, doing its own thing.

Halfway through Family Feud, a loud crash from what sounded like your kitchen alerted you. Your laugh cut short and Steve Harvey poked fun at a contestant's absurd answer, laughing on the screen. You jumped up, abandoning the snacks and ran to see the destruction, cussing your cat out along the way.

You stormed into the room ready to reem your pesky feline, grabbing a broom, threatening the extinction of treats for the rest of his life. But what you saw had you stopping in your tracks. Words died on your tongue. And what you saw, there was no rhyme or reason to it. In fact, it should have been physically impossible.

Dean Winchester stood in your kitchen, holding a case of pie.

#wayne reads #fic rec #beau arlen #dean winchester #soldier boy

219 notes · View notes

waynes-multiverse · 13 hours

Text

Holy crap! Wowza, that was hot!!! 🔥🫠

Like A Wrecking Ball

Gif is just to get your attention- this is not a Demon!Dean fic- I hope I won't disappoint you! 🔥🤭

A/N- had a dream yesterday, listened to THIS SONG and voilà- here you go! 🫣🤭

Pairing- Jensen x Fem!reader

Warnings - 18+ ONLY, semi-public/public fingering, hair pulling, unprotected PinV, breeding kink, dirty talk - if I missed any, let me know:)

W/C: ~1.7 | My Masterlist

Not proofread (only once, instead of my usual 5 times😅)/mistakes are mine! Enjoy!

To some, it might have seemed rude of you to steal Jensen from his party, but he for sure didn't seem too mad about it. How much small talk does one have to make on his own birthday anyway. They'll forgive him for ditching the dinner with you.

You didn't plan this night to end this way. At least not this quickly, but you only had yourself to blame for that. Hadn't you started playing footsie with him during dinner, he probably wouldn't have pulled you to the bathroom either. That's where it all went down. Or in his case, up. But you wouldn't have liked to get caught by someone, so you kept the action in there short. It would have been a thrill for sure, but having both of your parents at the party, the risk of being busted was way too high.

Now you both sat in the backseat of a taxi, panting hard between your kisses, unable to keep your hands to yourselves. Jensen's fingers slid up your thighs under your dress, where you had already drenched your panties. You had to bite hard down on your lower lip to keep your moan under control, when he slipped one finger past your lace underwear, pushing it into your cunt. You grabbed onto his wrist to stop him, even though it was the last thing you wanted to do, it would have been too hard for you to keep quiet if he'd kept going. “Please, Jensen.”

You looked into his eyes. Desire had darkened them almost black. “No, sweetheart.” He laughed at you.

“You know the order. First my fingers.” He whispered, kissing down your neck, and slipping his hand back into your underwear. His lips moved up to kiss the delicate skin under your ear. Tickling of his beard made you pull your shoulder up and squeaked lightly. You didn't let him get away with the teasing, and swiftly unzipped his dress pants, and locked your hand around his cock over the boxers.

Neither of you cared what the driver thought of you two. It was too late for that. This definitely wasn't the first time for neither of you to make out, and even more, in a taxi.

Feeling your hand in his pants, Jensen gasped. “Fuck.”

“You didn't finish telling me the order, babe. Cat got your tongue?” You teased close to his lips as you saw how hard it was for him to get a word out.

He slid his tongue past your lips, claiming what's his, and stealing your breath with the kiss. Jensen pulled his fingers out of you and settled on rubbing your clit through the thin lace cover.

“You know what's coming after my fingers.” He smiled darkly, making your imagination run wild.

Of course you knew the order. The same one he had set in the beginning of your relationship. The order always remained the same.

First he'd use his hands to make you cum on his fingers, depending on his mood, he always didn't let you finish the first round. Jensen loved to see you beg for him until you were in tears.

Then he'd take sweet sweet time to eat you out. That man loved your pussy more than breathing, and when eating you out, he was always generous, making you finish on his face for him to lap up your juices like he was saved from the desert in thirst.

And finally, after all that teasing and torture, he'd finally claim you as his and that was always the sweetest release you waited for the most. Your bodies were just made for each other, you swallowing every inch of him, Jensen always filling your cunt to the brim with his seed. Simply put, starting a family was the next big step in your lives, and both of you made sure that you'd enjoy the journey to the destination to the fullest.

You didn't know how much longer you could hold on. The drive home seemed just infinite. Suddenly Jensen pulled away from you and drew back to the opposite side of the backseat.

Your mind was completely fogged, thinking only about what was waiting for you at home. The need you had for him right now was unbearable. But you didn't have to suffer for long.

The car pulled to a stop in front of your and Jensen's home, and you tried your best to keep your composure getting out of the car. Neither of you touched each other while Jensen unlocked the door. As soon as it closed behind you, you were both at each other again, not bothering to find your way to your bedroom.

You began to quickly peel off layers from Jensen, starting with the jacket while he worked on his pants, until there was nothing left on him. You took a step back, looking up and down on him, feeling the arousal pool between your legs from hunger at the sight of his hard cock. “Jesus, how are you real....” you muttered, holding your breath. He closed the distance between you and grabbed your face into his palms, pulling you into a heated kiss, before he whispered into your ear.

“Was your dress expensive?”

“What? No.” You whispered and pulled away in confusion.

But Jensen's arms around you kept you close to his body and before you knew he had ripped open the back of your dress, making the buttons from the back of it fly across the room.

“Jensen!” You yelped, completely surprised by his action.

“What?” He laughed and his ‘not-so-innocent’ innocent laugh brought a smile to your face, too. Jensen removed your dress, leaving you only in your underwear and thigh high stockings. Running his hands over your ass, he pulled you back into him.

“Fuck, you're damn gorgeous, you know that?” His fingers locked in your hair, pulling on it and making you mewl in the pleasurable pain, moving forward slowly so you'd back into an old oak dresser decorating the hallway.

The sloppy wet kisses he left on your neck tied your tongue. “Jens- please.”

“You're thinking what I'm thinking, babe, hmm?” You knew exactly what he meant and nodded eagerly. Step number two was definitely going to be skipped tonight. Immediately he curled his thumb under your panties and pulled them down.

“Oohh, fuck..” you let out a shuddering breath when a slight coldness touched your wet pussy.

“Up.” Jensen said and helped you onto the dresser, pulling your legs open for him. He didn't waste any time and in a quick move he sheathed himself inside you. Your head fell back in silent scream and nails dug deep into his muscular shoulders. “Oh…oh, fuck...yes...” you breathed out heavily with each of his deep thrust. He picked up speed and it was harder for you to control yourself.

“Don't you hold back now, love....I want you to be heard to the end of the street..” he gently brushed away a strand from your face that had fallen out of your hairdo.

Jensen loved when you couldn't keep quiet. He just enjoyed hearing you cum, the louder the better, whether it would happen on his fingers, all over his face or on his cock with him when he fucked you. He enjoyed all you had to give to him.

You sat up, bringing Jensen's face closer to yours, kissing him hard and pulling his hair, drawing a deep groan out of him. His fingers dug deeper into hips, holding you in place for him to keep pounding harder into your pussy.

Jensen's moves and words started to clash with each other. From his moves it seemed like you were just an inanimate toy for him to rut into, but he still spoke sweetly against your lips. Showering you with affection and praises, softly caressing the rest of your body, that wasn't getting used by him.

“Fuck..love you, baby..love your little pussy..gonna put my babies into you.” his eyes were completely fixated on yours, keeping you from looking away, his moves not faltering yet. “You'll take my babies, won't you?” He breathed out harshly, thumb brushing over your plump lips.

“Yes! Please, babe..Fuck.. I'm getting closer..” you cried out. “I need…ah…” Jensen groaned deeply when he felt your pussy clenching around his cock, trying to keep him inside of you.

Without another warning, you suddenly snapped. “Oh, god, Jensen! Yes!” Your head fell onto his shoulder, completely overtaken by bliss as Jensen kept driving into you.

“You're so good for me, baby, coming on my cock just as I like it.” He gently lifted your head from his shoulder. “Aren’t you a good girl?” His green eyes looked for an answer in yours, but all you managed was to nod.

Just as you, Jensen was breathless. “I’m getting close, sweetie, but I want you cum again..with me. Can you do that?”

“Yes..” you shuddered, and bit your lips, already feeling it build inside you.

Your hands draped over his shoulders, pulling him flush against you. Jensen's nibbed on the delicate skin on your neck. It didn't take long for you to fall apart for him again. But now you were just a soundless mess, waiting for him to cum and fill you.

With a hard groan, he stopped inside you, spilling his seed into your womb. “Oh, god..I love you, Jensen..” you whispered in the crook of his neck.

He pulled away slightly to take a look at you, but your bodies stayed connected. “I love you, too.” He pressed a soft kiss on your swollen lips, relishing the taste of the little bit of gloss that was still left on your lips.

You held onto his face, not allowing him to pull away from the kiss. Although you were satisfied, very much so, the stubble under your fingers made you now miss the feeling of his tongue and his tickling beard between your legs.

“Hmm, what did you say?” You asked with a grin on your face, enjoying the confusion on his. “You're still hungry? Mm, yeah, me too..”

He started laughing and lifted you off the dresser. He tugged on your hair and a little slap landed on your ass before he turned you towards your bedroom. “Go. You know the position I want you in.”

He let go of you and you quickly went to your bedroom to wait for Jensen to follow you. Laying on the bed you let out a big sigh. You had no regrets on leaving the party, and were quite sure neither did he. Your anticipation was high when you heard him walking into the room.

The night was still not over for you.

Tags: @jackles010378 @nescaveckwriter @cevansbaby-dove @deanwinchestersgirl87 @winchesterwild78 @anundyingfidelity @suckitands33

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

#wayne reads #fic rec #jensen ackles x reader

141 notes · View notes

waynes-multiverse · 13 hours

Text

Aaaah I love me a good OC story! I know they never get much love on here, but I don’t mind it at all 😍

Loved Isabelle’s character and backstory so far! The whole unsolved murder around her sister is so intriguing. I certainly don’t trust that Mark guy, either. Curious to see where you take that storyline 👀

Her connection with Beau is also so sweet. Did I detect a little jealous there on our Sheriff’s part when Dean called? I can’t wait to see where it leads 🥰

Also, what an ending! Poor woman gets shot in the first chapter 😂

Loved it so far! This is wonderfully written, by the way! 🤍

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to cafekitsune)

one - green lights and red stains

TWO MONTHS EARLIER:

I was at my desk in Big Sky Country, Montana’s sheriff’s department, papers strewn over the desk in a similar fashion as they were at home. Making small mountains and also making me rather sympathetic for the trees who suffered just to have me keep ‘em all like this on another plank of wood on more sticks of wood. However, I couldn’t bring myself to clean them, not today. As well as that, the acting sheriff had made his speech today, and I knew if he’d talk to me, I wouldn’t make a great impression, not with all this mess.

“Ain’t this a sight?” I looked up to see none other than Sheriff Arlen, standing in front of me, his stance wide set as he peered at my scribblings which varied between neat and scrawling handwriting. I jolted a little, panic striking through me as I began to shuffle my files into a more orderly pile, but he held out his hand to put me at ease. “Nah, don’t worry about it. Truth be told, I’m not the most organised either.”

In response, I stood up laughing a bit as I ran my hand through my hair, the action not as smooth and easygoing as I hoped as my index encountered a knot in my raven hair which I quickly untangled. “Well, I’m afraid this is what you’ll be seein’ every day.” I gestured down in circular motions to the messy piles.

“Then I’m lookin’ forward to it.” He put out his hand with a broad grin, green eyes twinkling along with his startlingly white teeth. He had an air of giddy charm and confidence around him that I couldn’t help but crack a smile to. “Beau Arlen.”

“Isabelle Joyner.” I replied, shaking his hand firmly. His grip was strong, but comforting in a sense.

“Well, darlin’, I’ve heard some good things about you from Jenny Hoyt, or Hoyt, as she wants me to call her.” Beau chuckled at the thought, glancing towards Jenny, who was in conversation with Poppernak. “She’s a real firecracker.”

“That’s Jenny for you.” I smiled, nodding resignedly and also flicking my eyes to her. “She knows me better than anyone; we’ve been best friends for as long as I remember.” Then I spotted the uncertainty in his eyes as he once more looked at Jenny, and I laughed a bit. “She’ll warm up to you. She’s just a bit miffed, y’know, didn’t get put as acting Sheriff.”

“I learnt that the easy way and the hard way.” He snickered slightly, his shoulders shrugging. “Well, it’s a lesson well learnt.”

“Damn straight.” I grinned, putting my hands in my pockets, and we fell silent for a moment before it got a bit uncomfortable. “Anyway, welcome to Big Sky. I’m sure you’ll be great.”

“I goddamn hope so.”

NOW:

“Liv, sweetie?” I called up the stairs, my eyes darting back to the pancake cooking on the stove. It was half past eight in the morning, and I needed to get Olivia, my niece, to her stepfather’s house. Her mother - my sister - had been… lost. In a murder, six years back, but they’d never found who’d done it. In her will, she’d given custody of Olivia to me, that the court had approved. Her stepfather, Markham, was not happy, but there was little he could do.

“Yeah?” Came her sleepy voice from upstairs, making me laugh quietly. She’d grown so much since I got her as a timid nine year old. Now she was sixteen in a week and the most beautiful girl I’d ever see. She was my baby girl at this point, and I couldn’t be prouder.

“I’ve got work, hon, and I’m makin’ pancakes!” I heard a brief pause, then a scramble to get up. I smiled knowingly, returning to the pancake as the thunder of footsteps down the stairs signalled her arrival. Her blonde hair bounced in stunning curls and her brown eyes flashed excitedly, even though they were riddled with sleep. I passed her a plate of pancakes stacked up, shaking the whipped cream. “Mornin’, gumdrop.” I grinned cheerily. “What would you like on your pancakes, hm?”

“Whipped cream, syrup, and raspberries.” She replied instantly, then returned my smile. “And good morning, auntie.” Olivia gave me a bear hug, which I returned gladly, kissing her hair before letting her go with a pat on the back.

“Good choice.” I squirmed the whipped cream in a circle, grabbing the syrup bottle and drizzling it generously before passing her a bowl of freshly washed raspberries so she could knock herself out, also sliding her a fork and knife. “Dig in.”

“Hello, there!” I heard Jenny call, the door opening. Jenny and Cassie walked in with big smiles on their faces, especially so when they found the combination of Olivia and pancakes. “Hope you don’t mind, we just used the spare key under the deco rock.”

“And I’m glad we did, because why weren’t we invited to the party?” Cassie faux-gasped as she gestured to the pancakes.

“Elle, explain yourself.” Jenny chastised, raising an eyebrow at me, but when I passed them each a plate of pancakes, they melted. “Ok, no explanation needed.”

“Yep, we’re all good now, no beef here.” Cassie agreed, dolloping whipped cream on hers before passing the canister to Jenny. “Also, hi, Olivia.”

“Hey, Cassie.” Liv waved with a smile and a mouthful of pancake. “Hi, Jenny.”

“Hey, kiddo.” Jenny grinned, waving before digging into the pancakes.

“Never knew I’d be catering for four today.” I chuckled, turning off the stove and embellishing my own plate of pancakes, making it even more of a sugar rush than it already was.

“Well, now we get to boast to Beau about what we got cooked.” She replied with a cheeky smile. “He’s always returnin’ with clean dishes of what Denise cooked, so I guess we could clap back a little.”

“His favourite deputy cooked us pancakes and not him.” Cassie giggled, making me roll my eyes. These two.

“Shut up. Both of you.” I snickered, trying to remain stern. “If Sheriff Arlen wants pancakes, he can come over and I can make him some pancakes, it’s not exclusive.”

“And here I thought we were special.”

“Aw, hey, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“She did.” Olivia giggled.

“Yeah, she did.” Jenny gave me a look before we all burst out into laughter. We spent a bit of time chatting as we finished our pancakes, telling Olivia the ups and downs of our latest solved case and what movie we wanted for movie night this week. When we were done, I picked up my keys, jangling them.

“Olivia, time to go.” I smiled, but Cassie put her hand on my arm with a smile.

“I’ll drop her off.” She chuckled, holding up her own keys. “I know where Mark lives, and it’s on my way.

“You’re not exactly the most civil with the guy.”

“That’s cause he’s an ass, but I’ll try my best.”

We engaged in a staring contest for five seconds, until I gave in, nodding in defeat. “Fine. But if I get a call from my brother in law-”

“You won’t!” She raised her hands in surrender. “I promise. Now, you and Jenny need to get to work before Beau rings you up.”

“God forbid he does.” I joked.

“C’mon, he hasn’t had the heart to tell you off after you found the hostages a few weeks ago, one of them happening to be his daughter. Another Darlene.” Jenny teased, nudging me playfully.

“You two are really keen on setting us up, hm?” I raised an eyebrow, shaking my head. “You know I’m not that keen on dating. Not after…” I trailed off with a frown. It was a sore memory, one that ended with me waking up at the bar with five empty shot glasses and a bill with far more drinks than I’d usually take.

“After Harry.” She sighed, patting my shoulder. “He wasn’t your fault. After all, he did the deed.”

“He doesn’t know what he lost.” Cassie added sympathetically. “The ass.”

“I wanna kick him in the nuts.” Olivia added, making us all raise an eyebrow.

“That’s fair.”

“And on all of our minds.” Jenny grinned.

“I can’t even be mad.” I sighed, then kissed Olivia’s forehead. “Be good, ok? If I get a good report, I’ll make you an ice cream sundae tonight.” As Cassie and Jenny opened their mouths to speak, I held up a finger. “You guys get one too.”

I walked into the sheriff’s department with Jenny, and the first person we saw was Beau Arlen himself. “Well, ain’t it my favourite deputies?” He sauntered over with that charming grin of his, looking between us. “Hoyt.”

“Beau.” Jenny smiled.

“Sheriff.” I chuckled, running my hand through my hair.

“C’mon, Belle, call me Beau.” Beau chuckled, gesturing to himself. “No formalities here.” The statement made me laugh, but I shook my head, looking down at my feet before back up into those twinkly green eyes.

“I’ll try my best, Sheriff.” I teased with a grin, then took a sharp breath in, looking around. “Any cases today?”

“A missing person’s case.” Beau’s expression changed slightly as he mentioned it. “Little girl named Harriet Brown, she was out playing in the front yard, parents were arguin’, when they come out, girl’s gone.”

“My god.” I whispered, then cleared my throat. “We should get on the case, and quick.” I pouted slightly, sucking in air through my teeth. “Any leads? License plate? Footage? Maybe someone who has a grudge?”

“Closest to a match we have as an enemy is the girl’s stepfather, Will Brown. And by parents arguing, I mean the birth father and mother arguin’.”

“Stepfather, what, lays claim to the kid?” I asked, concerned. I knew what that was like all too well (and by that I mean the outskirts of those feelings), and if that was the case…

“Possibly. He’s the only recent frequent visitor.” Beau frowned at the look on my face, tilting his head a little in curiosity. “You look a lil’ green around the gills there, Deputy. You doin’ ok?”

I shared a look with Jenny, who subtly patted my wrist, signalling me to speak up. I jolted out of my thoughts, nodding and putting on a smile that I felt didn’t quite reach my eyes. “‘Course, Sheriff. I’m always ok.”

“You sure?”

“Deadly.”

Beau looked at me for a bit, trying to gauge my reaction, before nodding resignedly and patting me on the shoulder with a small smile. “A’ight. But if anythin’ comes to mind, do tell.”

“Gotcha.” I nodded, my blue eyes looking into his green ones. After I’d met Beau on his first day as acting sheriff, he’d understood me. He knew I was raising Olivia, albeit had never met her, and related to that with his own little girl. Emily was an angel, and I guess I became more of one after he found me getting along well with someone who was his world. As well as that, after the incident with Buck Barnes, I’d managed to find the hostages, including Darlene and Emily, getting them out.

Ever since then, it’s like he treats me as if I’m God’s gift to him. I was just doin’ my job.

I breathed in, then released a deep on through my mouth. “Let’s hit the house, Jen.”

“You got it, Elle.” Jenny smiled. I picked up my jacket, adjusting the photo of my sister and I on my desk as I put it on with a sad smile.

“I miss ya, Lucy. Truly.”

I was in Beau’s truck, the landscape flying by as we made our way to the Brown’s house. The atmosphere was uncomfortably silent - damn the awkwardness of social interactions sometimes - but somehow Beau made coping with silence look easier than it felt. He wore an easy smile, waffling on about fishing with a charmingly boyish look in his eyes that I’d come to recognise and find adorable.

“While I love talking and yapping about fish to the point your ears fall off, Belle, but, uh, don’t you wanna get that?” I was snapped out of my reverie, finding that my ringtone was playing with the name Dean flashing on my screen over the green circle of light representing the button to accept the call, which I’d gladly do.

“Oh! Yeah, that’s right.” My face lit up as I pressed the ‘accept’ button, bringing the phone to my ear. “Dean, hey!”

‘Isa, hi.’ I heard a cheery voice from the other end. This was Olivia’s birth father, Dean Barlowe, who I preferred in spades to Markham Leeds. I never understood why Lucy and Dean had split up in the first place, since Dean was the best father I’d ask for where Liv is concerned. We hadn’t had contact in months, but this was a pleasant surprise. ‘How’ve you been?’

“Oh, now I feel brilliant.” I laughed, looking out the window. “How about you? It’s been goddamn months, I’ve been dyin’ for a call.”

‘Well, I’m feeling great now too. It’s always nice to talk to you. A familiar face.’

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” I nodded with a happy sigh. “Are you holding up ok? After… Lucy? It’s been a while, but it hit you pretty hard too.”

‘Doing better, if that counts.’ I heard a pause on the other end. ‘Hey, do you think Liv would mind if I pop over for a visit in a week’s time?’

“For her birthday, right?”

‘Yeah. Mark wouldn’t be too mad, right?’

“Who gives a damn about Markham, just come over, ok?” I smiled, and I could practically hear his own relieved one on the other end of the line. “Liv’s gonna love the surprise, don’t you worry.”

‘You know exactly what to say to soothe my nerves, don’t you?’

“Hey, it’s nothin’. Just being a dutiful sister in law.” I saw an exit sign that said we were almost at the house, so I decided to wrap it up. “Hey, uh, Dean, I’m about to start working a case, so I’ll chat later.”

‘Ah, right. Thanks, Isa. Bye.’

“Bye.” I cut the call, and found Beau smirking at me, his eyebrow raised slightly. “What?”

“You seem real chummy with this Dean fella.” He snickered knowingly, but I shook my head rapidly.

“No, no, no. He’s my brother in law.”

“Wait, this is the ex-husband of your late sister?” Beau nodded approvingly. “By the way you’re talkin’ to him, he seems like he’s got his name written in your good books with sparkly gold ink. Unlike Mark.”

“Well, Mark’s an ass.”

“Markham is an ass.”

Beau, Jenny and I were flicking through the security tapes of the Brown house the day their little girl Harriet was kidnapped. “Look, there.” I pointed to the screen, where a man was approaching. “It’s our stepfather.”

“Damn straight.” Beau nodded, leaning forward to ID the guy’s face. “Yep, that’s him. And he just scooped the girl up gave her a lollipop and high-tailed it.”

“We need to get this girl back.” Jenny sighed, her expression pensive as she peered at the screen.

“We got an idea on where she could be taken?”

“Possibly his cabin. Witness accounts show that he’s been buyin’ a lot of bedding, more than you’d need.” I frowned, then stood up. “We need to bust this guy and fast.” I didn’t know exactly why, but this was pissing me off. A stepfather, kidnap his own stepdaughter.

“Let’s bust a crooked stepfather.” Jenny got up, and so did we, heading out the door, running to our cars as Jenny texted me the address, which I put into Beau’s GPS. We quickly got in, and Beau floored it.

“You seem rather frustrated on this case, huh, Belle?” He asked, sighing deeply. I shook my head, plastering on a smile that once again did not reach my eyes as I looked back at him.

“No, sir, I’m just concerned for the kid.” I answered not as smoothly as I’d hoped to have done. My voice was slightly shaky, and I knew what he was thinking. Mark had been after custody of Olivia for ages, and was still trying. However, he couldn’t do anything, not when I was named Olivia’s legal guardian and was Lucy’s next of kin.

“It’s about Mark, right?”

I chuckled lowly, nodding. “That obvious?”

“You’re like a mama bear in these cases.” He grinned, then patted my knee. “But now, I need my deputy to have a clear mind. God knows you help me keep mine all clear and sunny skies.”

“Gotcha, Sheriff.” I smiled as we pulled up to the house. “Hear you loud and clear.” I reached under the seat, pulling on my bulletproof vest and strapping it tight. I looked over, seeing that he’d done the same. “Shall we?”

“We shall, darlin’.” We got out at the same time as Jenny, making our way across the front yard before I tried the handle of the door, finding it locked. I nodded to Beau, who reared up and kicked the door open, all of us putting up our guns as we stormed the house. Jenny went to check the kitchen and living room, Beau heading upstairs while I took the basement. I crept down the stairs, treading light in fear of startling Will. I gently tried the door, hearing a little girl whimpering. Then I spotted a middle aged man holding a gun, and a small brunette girl hugged my legs, terrified.

“He hurt you.” She whispered, crying, but I shushed her and brought her head to my shoulder, ignoring the riddling pain in an attempt to soothe this little girl.

“Just get her out of here.” I nodded to Harriet. “I’ll hold on, just keep her safe.” My bloodied hand reached out to grip Beau’s bare forearm. “Take her home.”

LMF TAGLIST:

@deans-spinster-witch @nancymcl @hobby27

Preview of Chapter Two

#wayne reads #fic rec #beau arlen x original female character

39 notes · View notes

waynes-multiverse · 22 hours

Photo

624 notes · View notes

waynes-multiverse · 22 hours

Text

Jensen Ackles as Russell Shaw Tracker (2024) | 1.12 – “Off the Books”

339 notes · View notes

waynes-multiverse · 22 hours

Text

Plastic Hearts – Part 23

Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.

Chapter Warnings: +18, language, smut, fluff, angst, quiet hurt & a touch of heartbreak

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Oh, you'll hate me again for ending it like this. Have fun, guys 😂

<< 22 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

23. Every Breath You Take

“More?” Dean offers the half-emptied wine bottle and holds it over Y/N’s glass as they sit around the dinner table. The actress throws him a raised look with a little smile playing on her lips.

“Are you trying to get me drunk? You don’t have to. I’m already sleeping here,” she points out in amusement.

“Yeah, but when you’re buzzed, you let me do more shit.” The green-eyed director smirks.

“Ew, Dad!” Claire groans next to him. “I’m right here. This is why I don’t wanna do family dinner with you guys.”

“This was actually a nice idea,” Y/N says with a smile so bright it shows her dimples. “Thanks for cooking tonight. Perfect way to start our last week of filming.”

Dean’s heart stings slightly at her words, but he covers it with a tight smile. The last three weeks passed by rather quickly, and each week, he grew more worried, more nervous, more depressed, and more anxious. This was it. Seven more days before it all imploded. Six more nights before he might not see her again.

He has been wracking his brain, trying to come up with solutions to save the show – to keep her. Cas and Jo are out on fairs, networking with networks and showing their tape to other producers in hopes of getting picked up by someone else, still without any success.

“So, uh, any plans so far? Heard some of the girls are going to auditions, looking for other jobs,” Dean notes and nurses his beer. He doesn’t hold it against them. It’s the business, after all, and everyone’s trying to survive and find their next paycheck.

Y/N bobs her head and sets her wine glass down. “Yeah, actually. I was thinking about taking your advice and going to New York for auditions. I like the idea of doing theater or maybe even a musical.”

Dean forces a supportive smile on his face and hides the heartbreak in his ribcage. “Yeah, you should. You’d be great at it.”

“But, uhm, for now, I’m actually driving to San Diego in a few days for an audition for a musical. I’m not gonna get it, but I figured it’d be fun,” she tells him, and even though she downplays it, Dean can see the excitement sparkling in her eyes.

“Oh, c’mon, why wouldn’t you get it?” he encourages her. He promised himself he’d always be her cheerleader, no matter his own feelings on the subject. He’s trying a new thing these days – it’s called being less selfish.

But God, he hopes she gets it. San Diego is a lot closer to LA than New York.

Y/N snorts into her glass, chuckling. “It’s a Sondheim musical, Dean. I’m not expecting to get it. It’s just good practice.”

“Aiming high, huh?” Dean laughs despondently and takes a big gulp of beer to choke down his tears.

Dammit, Dean thinks. He wishes he could call the dude and tell him what a great woman and actress Y/N is. He’d be lucky to have her in his production. Maybe the director could bribe him to hire her? Would that take things too far?

“How are you gonna get down there?” Dean’s eyes drift to the leg in a cast that rests on a chair next to him.

Y/N gives him a shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t know. Take the bus?”

“I’ll drive you,” he says with a swig of his beer. See? Supportive. He’s really proud of himself, although he wishes he were a lot drunker right now.

“Ooh, uh, Claire, I borrowed two dresses from Alex for you. I put them in your room. You need to pick one for your Winter Formal,” Y/N tells his daughter with a bright smile.

But Claire shakes her head with teenage defiance. “I don’t need a dress. Jack and I are going ironically.”

Dean’s brow furrows in confusion as he blinks at his kid. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Claire rolls her eyes in response and groans. “Ugh, Dad, you’d think for someone who lived through counterculture, you’d understand.” With that, she gets up from the dinner table and takes her empty plate to the kitchen sink.

“I know what she means,” Y/N mumbles nonchalantly.

Dean’s bewildered gaze darts to her. “Really? What?”

Y/N coolly shrugs her shoulders as she sips on her wine before she sighs defeatedly. “Fine, I don’t know. I just wanted to sound cooler than you,” she admits with a cute smile.

Dean snorts a laugh. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“I’m going to bed. Good night! Don’t be too loud!” Claire yells before the door to her room slams shut.

Dean watches Y/N as she leans back in her chair with a blissful sigh and empties her glass. She has pretty much spent every night at his place since the hospital. At this point, the director has gotten so used to it that he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if one night she didn’t. Why can’t it stay this way?

He never thought he’d be someone who wants to have family dinners every night.

“Too tired for dessert?” he asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows and his signature smirk.

Y/N laughs lightly. “I wish one of these days you’d offer me actual dessert,” she quips.

“Like what? Chocolate cake? Pie? I’d actually love some pie. Maybe we should get one for tomorrow night,” Dean muses, chuckling.

Y/N grins mischievously at him and leans her elbows on the dinner table, resting her chin in her palms. “Maybe you can eat pie off of me.”

Dean curls his lips, his cheeks blushing at the idea alone. His dick seems to like it, too. “God, I love… your brain,” he quickly corrects his course before the wrong words slip out.

And it’s not like it isn’t true. While Y/N hasn’t been able to act and tumble around the ring, she’s been coming up with storylines and basically coordinated matches for the past three episodes. She’s also constantly by his side and mans the booth with him. If Dean didn’t sleep with her and like her, he’d actually be scared she’s coming for his job. She’s pretty much directing at this point, and he just lets her because, well, did he actually ever care?

But his declaration is only a small part of the truth, the full truth being that he loves more than just her damn brain and has for a long while. He’s been trying to say the words for weeks now, started and stopped a hundred times, and tried to pack his feelings into a coherent sentence that honestly shouldn’t be more than three words long.

However, those are some big three words. Monstrous for Y/N. And deep down, Dean knows she might feel like he does, too, but can’t admit it and doesn’t know what the hell to do with it. To her, this little arrangement between them is nothing more than friends who fuck. Only Dean’s aware that they’re actually in a deeply serious relationship, which is maddeningly ridiculous.

But hey, if he keeps his mouth shut, they might make it another five years like this without Y/N running away, so that’s something.

Dean then rises from his seat and offers his hands to Y/N. Her leg is still in a cast, so she has been wobbling around on crutches or hopping clumsily across a room. It’s pretty darn cute.

“Thank you,” Y/N says gratefully as Dean helps her up and slings her arm around his neck before he fully hoists her into his arms. She giggles as he carries her into the bedroom. “You don’t have to do this every night, you know. I can walk just fine.”

“Says you, but truth is, you’ve never seen yourself walk on these things. It’s pathetic,” he teases her and plops her carefully down on the bed.

He flings off his shirt and removes his jeans and underwear as Y/N unbuttons her blouse. The mattress dips as he climbs into the bed and helps her discard her pants. It’s routine at this point, but Dean has really started to cherish the stability. Every morning when he wakes up and smiles at her, he loves knowing that he’ll fall asleep right next to her at night all over again.

Gently, he spreads her legs and slots between them. His lips find hers in the moonlit dark and kiss her with deep affection and burning love, always pouring his whole heart into each kiss and hoping one of these days it’ll stick.

Grabbing a condom from the nightstand, he rolls it over his throbbing length and positions his dickhead at her entrance, slipping into her tight channel till she’s full of him. Her lips part as the same little gasp escapes her that he hears every time he enters her. He loves hearing that noise almost as much as he loves to hear the big one when she comes and the medium ones in-between.

Sometimes, Dean makes her come before, but on nights like these, when she’s already had half a bottle of wine, he rather works quick. While wine makes her louder and more daring, it also renders her quite sleepy.

“Fuck,” she sighs and closes her eyes with a euphoric smile, her pussy gripping his cock tight as she clenches around him. “You’re always so good at that.”

Dean smiles amusedly. Wine makes her chatty, too. “I haven’t even done anything yet, sweetheart,” he remarks.

“Well, I guess I just-… I just love your cock,” she says bluntly and grins up at him. “And those lips.”

See? Wine.

“These ones?” Dean asks teasingly and leans down, pulling one of her nipples between them till she squirms.

“Uh-huh, yes…” she moans softly and cards her hands through his hair, causing a groan to pass his lips. “And that tongue.”

“This one?” Dean lets his tongue roll over that same nipple till it peaks, feeling her arch her back underneath him.

“Yes, and God, those hands and fingers…” she almost whines.

“Those two?” Dean snakes a hand between their bodies, two of his fingers finding her clit and drawing tickling circles.

There’s no more strength left for words. She bites harshly down on her bottom lip and nods vividly. Her cunt clutches him tightly, eliciting a giddy chuckle from him. He loves making her squirm.

Three more squeezes, and he knows he has to move before she grows impatient. He knows her well by now, knows every little detail about her, and loves that he does. They haven’t even been able to do half the things he wants to do to her due to her current injury and inability to move (or bend) as freely.

And yet, he’s still not fucking bored, not in the slightest. He keeps waiting for it, but it never comes.

On the contrary, he appreciates the feeling of knowing someone so deeply and intimately as he knows Y/N. She has become a part of his soul, and he doesn’t know if he could ever cut her out without severely hurting himself. He’s not sure if he could survive a wound this deep.

“Dean, please…”

That was the fourth – like clockwork.

Dean manages to thrust twice before loud punk rock music shakes the walls and drowns out every noise in the entire house. Hell, the whole neighborhood can probably hear it.

Frustrated, his head drops momentarily to Y/N’s shoulder as the actress snorts a giggle. He can feel her body and cunt trembling around him, but not for the reason it should.

“Claire!” Dean shouts angrily. “Turn that fucking music down! Y/N’s trying to sleep!”

“No, she’s not!” his kid yells back through the wall and the unbearable music. “I know you guys are having sex! I don’t wanna hear anything!”

“We’re not having sex,” Dean barks and watches as Y/N gapes at him in sheer playfulness.

“Wow, you lie like that to your kid?” she teases him.

“What d’you want me to say? ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m inside of her now’?” Dean retorts wryly, making Y/N burst into uncontrollable laughter as she snorts into his shoulder. “Can you please stop laughing while I’m trying to fuck you? My soldier’s already retreating.”

But Y/N only laughs harder at that, tears streaming down her cheeks as Dean’s lips purse with a sigh through his nose. She then exhales a deep, long breath, trying to calm herself. He’s seen her do this very move a hundred times during an acting scene.

She clears her throat and tries to force a more serious look onto her features. “How about a little Russian motivation?” she says in her infamous accent and smiles when his cock twitches in agreement. “Maybe some oral manipulation, yes?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.” Dean grins and leans down to capture her lips. “God, I love yo… your pussy,” he quickly corrects himself once more. That was a close one.

Alright, don’t look at him like that and don’t judge him. He’s trying. He really is.

But Jesus fucking Christ, he loves living these days. Who knew his forties would be the best time of his life?

With a big yawn, Y/N rubs her eyes and stretches her arms over her head. The shower in the main bathroom is running with Dean already in it. She grabs her crutches and hops to the window, opening the blinds to let some sunlight in.

She takes a deep breath and enjoys the morning silence for a moment, her gaze drifting out the quiet neighborhood. It has never been this peaceful in the motel. The last three weeks, she has really appreciated waking up in Dean’s bed. She knows she’s probably overstaying her welcome at this point, but he hasn’t kicked her to the curb yet, so she hasn’t been in a hurry to return to the motel, either.

He was right – the memory foam mattress is fucking heaven, especially with a broken ankle.

All in all, she imagined being benched for the show would be a lot worse than it is. Dean’s done a great job of incorporating her anywhere outside of the ring. She’s helping with storylines, training, directing, producing – really anything that could use a few tweaks. The green-eyed director is unfashionably nice to her. Maybe it’s the sex or their friendship or a combination of both. Either way, she’s grateful for him.

However, there’s this tiny voice inside her head that keeps telling her there’s a reason why Dean’s been so nice, and it’s not just the sex. It’s certain kisses and touches and looks – especially the looks – that make her believe there’s something lying underneath the surface. An iceberg so gigantic it could sink the Titanic. Whenever she catches his clandestine gazes from her periphery, there’s this inexplicable feeling that creeps through her veins.

Her peace is disturbed when excessive knocking and an uninterrupted ringing of the doorbell draw her attention to the front door. A part of her expects to find her best friend behind it. Only Jo could be this ruthless and obnoxious.

Y/N hurries to the door as fast as she can, which isn’t fast at all, considering she’s on crutches. Everything is just awkward and slow these days, but she’s been practicing moving around in hopes of joining the show again for the final episode. Billie and Donna have been helping her, too.

But as Y/N opens the door, she’s not greeted by the familiar blonde but by a brunette stranger instead. The only similarity the woman shares with Jo is that she’s incredibly hot and angry, too.

“Can I help you?” Y/N asks with a look of bewilderment, although she shouldn’t be surprised to find a mad woman on Dean’s doorstep.

“I’m Lisa Braeden. I’m looking for my daughter,” the woman says, somewhat impatiently.

Oh.

“Uh…”

Y/N stumps for a moment, eyeing the woman in front of her closely. So, this is Claire’s mother. Dean’s ex. She tries not to feel insecure around her, but it’s hard, considering the woman is a bombshell with perfect curves and flawless features. And if she looks like that now, Y/N wonders what she must’ve looked like seventeen years ago.

The actress suddenly feels very exposed in only the director’s flannel. Truthfully, she looks like she just crawled out of a gutter. Maybe it’s the fact she has just woken up and is sporting major bed-head, but Lisa probably thinks Dean took in a homeless person. The cast and crutches don’t help, either. And then, Y/N wonders why a part of her cares at all what the brunette thinks and reminds herself it’s not a competition.

“Dean? Dean!”

Her voice carries a certain amount of panic that’s probably uncalled for. Yet, it helps. The shower turns off, and not a minute later, Dean stands next to her with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his broad chest still glistening with droplets of water.

He does know how to make an entrance.

Dean’s brow is deeply creased when he takes in the woman at the door, lacking a sense of recognition, however. “What the fuck is all that noise?”

“I’m the fucking noise,” Lisa replies dryly. “I’m here for my kid.”

“Oh…” Dean stumps as well. Then, he swallows thickly and gives her a nervous smile. “Hi, uhm, I’m Dean Winchester.”

“I know who you fucking are, you moron,” Lisa huffs, shaking her head. “You got me pregnant. Where’s Claire?” When neither Dean nor Y/N answer, Lisa rolls her eyes and waltzes past the two inside the house. “Claire!”

“Sure, come on in,” Dean mutters under his breath and shares a wide-eyed look with Y/N, hoping for some guidance.

The actress eyes him up and down, pensively licking her lips. “Maybe you should get dressed.”

With some pants and a shirt on, Dean and Y/N have retreated to the kitchen and sip quietly on their cups of coffee while Lisa and Claire scream at each other. It’s a classic mother and teenage daughter battle. Claire fights for freedom, while Lisa fights for control.

“I had sex with that woman seventeen years ago. Now she’s in my house, yelling at my kid,” the director voices his thoughts out loud, a hint of trepidation shimmering in his green eyes.

“Yup, life has a way of catching up with you. Kinda learned that this year,” Y/N notes with pursed lips and sends him a smile. “But hey, they’re your family now. Kinda nice, right?”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” Dean huffs with a bitter look and watches Y/N place her mug in the sink.

“I should probably go. Leave you guys to figure this out,” Y/N announces, one hop on a healthy foot away from walking out the door. “I’ll call a cab.”

“No, don’t! You can’t leave me here alone with them,” Dean pleads, the sheer panic and desperation visible in his eyes and audible in his voice. His gaze bores into her. “C’mon, I need you. This is one of those, you know, friendship moments. Like abortions and getting over coke addictions.”

Y/N lets out a small sigh. How could she leave him after everything he’s done for her? She basically has no choice but to stay and help him through this. “What d’you want me to do? Mediate?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Dean shrugs helplessly. “I just know I’m gonna say all the wrong shit at the wrong time. Please. I don’t wanna lose my kid. Help me.”

As she catches his gaze, there’s that inexplicable feeling creeping through her veins again. This time, it even tugs on her heart.

“Okay, uhm, alright. I’ll stay,” she promises him, offering him a small smile of comfort.

Unbeknownst to her, though, Dean comes close to saying the three ominous words once more. It’s getting harder every day to keep them inside. How long does he have until he bursts? He feels like a ticking time bomb.

“Maybe we should all sit down and talk?” Y/N suggests as soon as Claire has stormed into her room and slammed the door in upset.

“About what?” Lisa barks, half-annoyed as she rests her hands on her squared-off hips. “She’s been lying to me for months.”

“Okay, in my defense, she told me you were crazy,” Dean explains with an innocent shrug.

“I don’t care if she told you I beat her and locked her into the basement. If a kid has run away from home, you call their mother,” Lisa retorts furiously.

Dean purses his lips in defeat for a moment, especially when Y/N seems to agree. She’s kind of his moral compass, but he’s not ready to accept his loss yet. “Well, you didn’t call me to tell me you were having a kid. My kid,” he argues and knows it’ll probably backfire. He can tell by Y/N’s frown.

“Oh, excuse me for not calling the guy who didn’t stay for breakfast,” Lisa counters with an eye roll.

Dean’s brow furrows, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s what happened.” Granted, he’s been high for two decades now.

“I asked if you wanted pancakes. You said, ‘No, thanks, but that was fun.’ And then you got into your car and bolted, never to be seen again,” Lisa recalls, frowning.

“Uhm, that sounds like it was a long time ago,” Y/N interjects in his defense, chuckling nervously. “He’s a different and more mature person now.”

Dean’s heart swells to twice its size. It’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about him. Although, he can tell she only said it to win Lisa over. She’s a good actress, making even him believe her words. But she’s helping him, so it’s the thought that counts.

“Thanks for the input. Who are you again? Are you his fucking maid?” Lisa arches a brow at her, eyeing her up and down.

“No, she’s not my maid,” Dean replies fiercely but then doesn’t know what else to say. Girlfriend? Lover? Friend? Nothing sounds right. “She’s my, uhm, she’s my actress. She’s my… You know, she’s… She’s Y/N.”

At that, Y/N’s brow draws together in the middle with a tilt of her head. Dean surmises that answer probably sounded even weirder.

“Yeah, I can see you’ve changed so much.” Lisa scoffs sarcastically and folds her arms over her chest, her patience running low.

Y/N subtly clears her throat, deciding to step in. God knows the director needs all the help he can get. “Okay, uhm, it doesn’t really matter who I am,” she says and shares a look with Dean, who anxiously chews his bottom lip raw. “What matters is that Dean has really connected with Claire over the last few months. He’s enrolled her in high school, she has joined AV club, she’s got a really nice and sweet boyfriend.” Dean grimaces at that last part, but Y/N skillfully ignores it and continues, “They’re going to Winter Formal tonight.”

“Yeah, I’m chaperoning,” Dean announces proudly. “This dance is very meaningful to her.”

Lisa snorts a laugh, clearly amused. “My kid does not go to dances.”

“Yes, I do!” Claire suddenly stands in the middle of the living room with the brightest smile. It’s freaky, really. She gleefully holds up the two dresses Y/N brought over last night, feigning her excitement. “Which one should I wear?”

Lisa and Dean disagree on the dress choice, but when Y/N sides with Lisa, Claire takes the hint and quickly disappears back into her room.

“It’s just one night, and it will give you two some time to catch up. Figure this out,” Y/N advocates suggestively.

“Yeah, what she said,” Dean agrees and clears his dry throat, wishing he had a bottle of booze in his hand to calm his nerves. Man, in stressful situations like these, he does miss coke sometimes. But fucking Y/N has been a great substitute, so maybe he’ll just do that as soon as that crazy woman leaves his house again. “Look, I get that you’re angry. But I’m really trying here, okay? She’s doing great at school, I gave her a curfew… I wanna make up for lost time,” he explains sincerely. Y/N sends him a proud smile.

“Fine, one night, but tomorrow we’re leaving,” Lisa relents with a sigh. “I’m not gonna indulge this fucking father-daughter fantasy,” she huffs and then finally storms out of the house.

Y/N exhales a long sigh of relief. “Well, that went better than expected.”

“You think?” Dean checks insecurely. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if Y/N hadn’t been here to support him. “You’re coming tonight, right?”

Surprised by the request, Y/N’s brow meets her hairline. “You want me to go to your daughter’s Winter Formal with you?”

“Yes, obviously,” Dean states matter-of-factly and blinks at her. “You can’t leave me alone with that woman.”

Y/N heaves another sigh as she looks at him. “Okay, fine,” she surrenders.

Sitting on the bleachers of a fully decorated gym, Y/N realizes she has kind of missed high school. At least, everything used to be much simpler back then. Your crush would ask you to go steady, you’d say yes or no, and then you’d be broken up shortly after prom.

Adulthood is complicated. People are complicated. And love is goddamn unfathomably complicated.

“It’s so weird seeing her with her first high school boyfriend,” Lisa notes with a small sigh next to her. “I still remember her drawing with crayons. Now, she’s running miles away, lying, and making out with a boy.”

“Yeah, teenage romance is a lot more intense,” Y/N says, chuckling softly.

“She won’t wear a dress to my wedding. Refused to. Screamed bloody murder,” Lisa says thoughtfully. “But after spending a few months with her estranged father, she suddenly puts one on.”

“People are complicated,” Y/N reiterates her earlier sentiment.

Claire is complicated. Dean is complicated. And Y/N? She might be the most complicated of all.

“My fiancé is not,” Lisa says, a delicate smile playing across her lips. It’s enough to show her happiness. “I always used to date these guys that would run so hot and then completely cold the next minute. I never knew where I stood. It was exhausting.”

“Yeah, I get it…”

Y/N’s eyes drift to Dean as he chats with one of the other dads by the buffet. She doesn’t know what the director wants from her. She doesn’t know what their relationship even is. One minute, it feels epic, like a love so legendary it should only exist on the silver screen. And the next minute, it feels trivial, like it should’ve never existed at all.

But Dean’s not the problem. Deep down, she knows what that creeping feeling in the pits of her stomach is. And she knows she’s not ready for it. Truth is, Y/N has no idea what she wants and feels lost. Because if she admits one thing, it’d mean the end of another. If she stays in LA for a guy, what would that mean for her career? She doesn’t want to end up like Jo. She’s finally about to have it all, only to realize both at the same time are a mere dream.

And worst of all, even if she did know what she wanted, she’s doesn’t know if she deserves it.

“So, what d’you do, son?” an older man next to Dean asks. He’s already balding and gray, as is the scruffy beard he’s sporting. His suit jacket with a name tag that reads “Chaperone” looks a little worn and sleazy, too. The director figured he’d be one of the oldest dads here, so this guy comes as a pleasant surprise.

“I’m a director of a women’s wrestling show,” Dean replies and takes a sip from the fruit punch. None of the kids have spiked it yet, which is quite the disappointment. What’s happening to today’s youth, huh? “And you?”

“Oh, nice.” The man nods with a smile and pulls out a business card from his suit jacket, handing it to Dean. “Bobby Singer. I own a small chain of strip clubs, although my wife Ellen would probably like me to tell you I’m a small business owner.”

“Got it.” Dean chuckles and glances at the card in his hands. “Bobby’s Body Shop. Oh, hey, I know this one! ‘Where the girls are hotter than the asphalt,’” he quotes the club’s tagline proudly, grinning. “I’m there all the time! Actually got one of your girls in my show.”

Bobby chuckles. “Well, next time you’re there, ask for me. I’ll get you a discount.”

“Thanks.” Dean smirks. And Cas claims you can only network on the fucking golf course. “Oh, hey, you should catch one of our shows. It’s our last one this week. It’s pretty badass. We’re over at the old gym in Watts.”

“Alright, I’ll see you there,” Bobby says with a smile.

Dean’s eyes then drift to Y/N on the bleachers. Last time he checked on her, she was still chatting with Lisa, but the brunette has since left. And as he glances at her now, Y/N has found herself encircled by a group of horny teenage boys, causing his brows to draw together and meet in the middle. They’re like fucking vultures.

“Shoo!” Dean barks sternly at the young men as he approaches the group and watches them scurry away with their tails tugged between their scrawny legs.

With an amused smile, Y/N arches an eyebrow at him. “Glad you’ve decided to join me. It was getting crowded. I’ve turned down about twenty offers to dance.”

“Look at you, you little heartbreaking cougar,” Dean retorts with a teasing smile. “You’re gonna turn me down, too?”

“I have a broken ankle. Did you forget that part? I can’t dance,” Y/N replies.

“Oh, c’mon, that never stopped you before. ‘Sides, I’ve got two working legs and can’t dance, either. So, what d’you say, huh?” Dean holds out his hands for her to grasp.

“Fine,” Y/N relents and grabs his hands, hopping to her feet. “Let’s do some awkward swaying.”

“That’s the spirit.” Dean laughs and rests his palms on her hips, helping her stand as she locks her arms around his neck.

“Is that what you had in mind?” Y/N asks teasingly as she looks up and meets his gaze.

“Kinda.” Dean dips his head and catches her lips, deepening the kiss with his tongue slipping inside her mouth.

“Dean,” she scolds him softly with blushed cheeks and a giggle that surely won’t keep him from doing shit. “There’s people here. Teenagers.”

“So? It’s nothing they wouldn’t do,” Dean remarks mischievously. “And no one’s here that we know. Claire’s caught us like a million times already, and Lisa doesn’t care. C’mon, we never get to do those things in public,” he appeals with a wiggle of his brows.

“Alright,” Y/N surrenders with a small sigh and a smile, tiptoeing up on one foot to press her soft lips back on his. She feels him breath into the kiss, cherishing every second of it. His hands wander from her hips to cup her cheeks, causing her to almost topple over as he forgets that he’s been steadying her. “Whoa, Dean!”

Her giggle interrupts the kiss as she tightens her grip around his neck before he moves his hands back to their place on her hips, offering her support again. She leans her head against his chest, and he rests his chin on her crown.

“Sorry, got carried away there for a moment,” he apologizes with a snicker, pecking the top of her head gently.

“Yeah, that happens with you sometimes,” she teases and buries her head deeper into his shirt. “Your heart’s beating really fast. Are you on something again?”

Dean wants to say it’s love, but that sounds too fucking cheesy.

“Nope, still clean,” he replies instead and doesn’t take offense in her question. “Just nerves, I guess. There’s something I wanna tell you,” he says and licks his lips, swallowing thickly.

Y/N looks up and finds his green eyes, her brow knitting in curiosity. But there’s a perceptive shimmer in her orbs, and Dean knows she can already anticipate what’s coming next. Judging by her shift in weight, he can tell she doesn’t want him to say it out loud.

“Shit, uhm…” She squeezes her eyes shut and fumbles for an excuse. Dean gives her a plethora of time to find a believable one. “I have to go. I promised the girls we’d work out a plot for the finale together tonight, celebrate our last week.”

Dean’s lips quiver but manage to find a smile. “You sure?”

Reluctantly, Y/N still nods and lets out a tense breath. “Yeah.”

It feels like dancing around a big, pink elephant between them. Both of them pretend it’s invisible, although it’s painfully not. It’s even roaring or hooting or whatever the fuck elephants do.

“Alright, I’ll drive you to the motel,” Dean capitulates with a resigned nod.

“No, uh, stay,” she tells him and clumsily hops back to the bleachers to grab her crutches. “I’ll get a cab. You should spend your night with Claire. Figure things out with Lisa.”

“Okay,” Dean caves once more but then grabs hold of her, pulling her to his lips. The kiss is fervent and heated and desperate. So fucking desperate. “One for the road,” he says with a painful smile as he draws back. He doesn’t want to admit that it might be the last one they have shared.

Y/N’s look tells him she feels the finality, too. It’s the epilogue of the best book he’s ever read. The end credits of his favorite movie. The final episode of a show he loved.

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly with a hesitant lip bite and a harrowing swallow.

“Don’t be. Have fun, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dean says and sends her one last weak smile before he watches her walk away with an aching heart.

24. Don't Dream It's Over – May 4

Honestly, even my cold, cold heart weeped at the end there. Poor Dean 😢💔 But as you can guess from next week's title, we're not done yet 😉

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus

Everything Dean: @SnowAyumi

#timezone reblog

41 notes · View notes

waynes-multiverse · 1 day