50 Ways To Say Goodbye

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love Part 9

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

1.8k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings mention of murder and murder-suicide no details though.

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

A dusty roadhouse in the middle of nowhere Australia

“Bobby, I’m tellin’ you she’s got a death wish, mate” Johnny spoke into his phone.

“I’m not sure how you expect me to help with that Johnny” Bobby grumbled back “Owning to the fact that I’m in the US and all”.

“Look all I know is ever since those hunters of yours where here she’s been going after every evil thing by herself, she’s refusing help from everyone, and I’m worried she’s going to come up against something she can’t handle on her own”.

“Yeah, Deans been the same way Sam said” Bobby sighed “The idijit wiped out a whole Vamps nest on his own a month back, refused to let Sam anywhere near it”.

“She called this morning asking for another case but I have nothing left, I don’t have time to track down leads either” Johnny scratched his chin.

“I think we need an intervention” Bobby twisted the lid off a bottle of whiskey pouring himself a drink “Give me a couple of days to talk to Sam and I’ll get back to you”

…

I paced up and down the hallway of an abandoned house I had broken into 5 days prior. I had been searching for a hunt almost ever since. The hunt I had come here for was a complete bust, just some dumb humans breaking into people’s homes and pretending to be werewolves. Johnny had no hunts for me, I couldn’t find anything worth pursuing and the longer I went without a hunt the more I thought about Dean. Even with the man out of the country I still couldn’t get him out of my head. It was like he had a hold over me that I couldn’t escape. My pacing was interrupted by my phone ringing. I quickly ripped my phone out of my pocket.

“Johnny tell me you got something for me”

“Hay y/n yeah I got something but you’re not going to like it” Johnny sighed

“A hunts, a hunt”

“Yeah, but this ones in the US…” Johnny trailed off “But hay its big place, right?”

“Right, what am I looking at?” I tried to ignore the US part.

“Bobby’s sending me the information now, how far are you from here?”

“Two days drive if I leave now” I said heading to my car.

“I should have the info by then, so are you taking the case?” Johnny asked.

“Yeah might as well” I shrugged.

“Great I’ll also get all the paperwork you need ready” Johnny sounded like he was shuffling paper around.

“See you in 2 days”

I hung up on Johnny and jumped into my car.

…

“Did she take the bait?” Bobby asked answering on almost the first ring.

“Yeah she did, she’s on her way here, all her paperwork’s ready to go” Johnny smirked.

“Great, Sam and I found a place, we’re just making it escape proof” Bobby said “Now we just need to get them both inside without the other one knowing”.

“And that’s your problem, I’m getting her there my parts done” Johnny chuckled.

…

I made the 2-day trip in a day and a half. I travelled mostly at night and stuck to back roads so I could floor it and the cops wouldn’t know. By the time I made it to Johnnys roadhouse I was exhausted and in need of sleep. Something I promised myself I could do once I was on the plane. Once I parked the car I basically ran into the roadhouse. All I wanted was to get started on this case as soon as possible. I let the door slam behind me announcing my arrival to Johnny. He looked at me from behind the bar and just chuckled.

“When do I leave?” I asked taking a seat at the bar.

“You can be on a flight out tonight if you want to take the case” Johnny slid a file across the bar as me.

The case seemed like a standard salt and burn. Vengeful spirit, haunting a long-abandoned house. Teens and adrenaline junkies had broken in to explore the place only to end up as the latest murder-suicide to happen in the property. Looks like the spirit was a former owner who was killed on the property and his body never found.

“How do they know he died on the property?” I asked looking up at Johnny.

“Well Bobby said…”

“Bobby?” I cut him off “Bobby wants me to work this case?”.

“Well yeah after the Winchesters failed to find the body, he thought you were the next best bet” Johnny shrugged.

“I’m not working with the Winchesters” I stood up to leave.

“No, no their gone, they’ve gone to hunt down a Wendigo somewhere in Arizona”.

“Fine so long as they’re not there I’m in” I dropped the folder back on the bar.

Johnny smiled at me and handed me another folder. It had a plane ticket, and all the documents I would need to get over there.

“Now I know you love your car, but I’ve organized a car for you when you get there, info’s in that folder” Johnny pointed at the folder in my hand. “I’ve also organised a friend to pick up your car from the airport to keep it safe”

I nodded and walked back out of the roadhouse. I jumped back in my car and headed the for the airport. The sooner I got on the plane the sooner I could sleep, the sooner I sleep the sooner I reach the US, the sooner I get to the US the sooner I can finish this case and get the hell out of dodge.

…

Deans P.O.V

 “So, this case Bobby sent us what exactly did he say?” I asked Sam who was looking at a map.

“Honestly not much, abandoned house, the owner was apparently murdered in the house by the locals back in 1880, they hid his body in the house. 2 years ago the house was sold and the new owners started renovations this apparently angered the spirit because he started murdering anyone that entered his house” Sam said without looking away from his map.

“So basically, we have a missing body and a mad as hell ghost” I looked at Sam in confusion.

“That about covers it” Sam sighed folding up the map. “Its 3 days drive”.

“Alrighty then” I nodded, tapping the steering wheel. “I don’t understand why you needed to come along though; you could have stayed at the Bunker”.

“Because your spiralling Dean and I’m scared your going to do something stupid” Sam looked at me pulling his signature bitch face “You can’t keep going at it alone dude, you need to let me in”.

“I’m fine Sammy” I groan rolling my eyes.

Sam went to say something else but I turned the music and ignored him. This was about to be the longest 3 day drive we’ve ever done.

…

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I made the airport in great time. I checked in and headed for the food court. I still had 2 hours before I would be seated on the flight so I figured I might as well get something to eat and go to the toilet before I boarded the flight that way I could just pass out once I was in my seat. Being at the airport however was making me panic. All I could think about was how in the few hours I would be back in the same country as Dean and that just meant I had more chances of running into him. And being distracted when I had to deal with a hunt was the last thing I needed. I had even cut off my best friend to be free of this man and yet I still let him have some hold over me. Nope just shake it off, concentrate on the case.

…

Dean’s P.O.V.

Sam had fallen asleep hours ago. I was tired but I didn’t want to stop. I just wanted to get to this hunt. Who knows maybe then I could hit up a bar and have a little fun. Nothing better to end a hunt with then an ice-cold beer. Yet ever since being in Australia, being around her, it gave me a feeling of guilt. I don’t know why it’s not like we were a thing, its not like I was betraying her in anyway. Its been 6 months I have no reason to even think about her anymore. I know Theresa’s hurt that her best friend won’t talk to her anymore but that doesn’t have anything to do with me. Does it?

I shook my head put her to the back of my thoughts and tried to think about this case. It was weird that Bobby sent us a case when the mans been yelling at me to take it easy. It must be important to stop this thing if he was sending us. I took the map from Sams lap and checked to make sure we were still headed the right way. The house seemed to be in the middle of nowhere which was a little weird for a house wracking up a body count then again with the number of kids looking for a cheap thrill and a haunted place to film to put online it’s not surprising that people have ended up wandering into the place. I looked out the review mirror revved the engine and turned up the music.

…

As I thought the 3-day drive felt like a 3-month drive. I managed to break some of it up by getting Sammy to drive while I slept. I was woken by Sam who had pulled us up behind an almost normal looking house. It was a little worn down, enough to look creepy but not enough to say it was abandoned. But if it was as Bobby had said and someone brought the place and started doing it up then it makes sense that the place was less abandoned looking. We climbed out of the impala and walked towards the house. I opened up the door and stepped inside some sort of dinning room/kitchen area. Before I could do or say anything the door behind me slammed shut. I spun around on my heels to hear the door lock.

“Sam what the hell?!” I yelled through the door.

“It’s for your own good Dean” Bobby’s voice rang through the door.

“Bobby? Why are you doing this?” I slammed my fist on the door.

“You need to man up and solve your problems” Bobby said.

I could hear the click of a padlock from the other side of the door. I cursed under my breath. And turned back into the house and headed for the front door, hoping they hadn’t locked it yet. I grabbed the handle and began to forcefully jiggle it. Locked. I heard the stairs creaked behind me. I spun around and felt like I’d been punched in the gut.

“Oh son of a bitch”.

“Dean? What are you doing here?”.

Updates!

So this morning I woke to the news I have been redundant. The daycare I worked at has been shut down so I spent the day writing instead. So for the next week this is what we're looking at.

Tomorrow: Supernatural Hunting Living and Love Part 6

Thursday 23rd: The Dating Oddessey: Jonathan (final part)

Saturday 25th: Spencer Reid x Reader fic part 1

Monday 27th: Supernatural Hunting Living and Love Part 7

Wednesday 29th: Spencer Reid x Reader fic part 2

I have SHLL Part 6 already ready to go and have The Dating Oddessey half written. My Spencer x Reader story is one I wrote ages ago that I'm going to be fixing up and reposting it's currently titled So Whose the Father but I think I'm going to retitle it. It will only be 3 Parts.

It's should by a crime how sweet Rob, Richard and Elizabeth are! I also got to meet Jared and Jensen and get their autographs and well we all know how awesome our boys are!

Objection!

I did have a song but I can't for the life of me remember what it was so I'm starting from scratch. I don't want to give too much away as to what I'm using the song for but please throw me your suggestions.

The Dating Odyssey: Jonathan

Eddie Munson/Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington/Jim Hopper/Jonathan Byers x fem!reader

1.6k word count

fluff, idiot reader, reader who can't say no, choose your own adventure-ish

Part 1 / Steves Ending / Eddies Ending / Jims Ending / Billy's Ending

Authors note: And so we reach the final part. I hope you have all enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you waited for Jonathan. He called you a few days after your date his shyness amplified over the phone. "Would you like to go on another date? I'd love to, uh, capture you, I mean, take your picture, in different settings."

It was endearingly awkward, and you couldn't help but agree. Here he was, looking even more nervous than on your first date, clutching an old camera with a worn leather strap. "Hi," he mumbled, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

"Hey, Jonathan," You smiled. "Ready to unleash your inner paparazzo?"

He chuckled, a dry, self-deprecating sound. "Something like that. But more... artistic, I hope."

You started at a nearby park. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, dappling the path with golden light. Jonathan fumbled a bit, muttering under his breath about focus and aperture, but when he finally looked up, his eyes held a quiet intensity. "There," he said, a shy smile gracing his lips. "You look... radiant."

There was something magical about seeing yourself through his lens. In the photos, the park wasn't just a park anymore; it was a scene from a dream, and you, the unexpected protagonist.

Next, you wandered through a quirky antique store. Jonathan captured you amidst dusty gramophones and chipped porcelain dolls, a playful glint in your eyes. He even snapped a candid shot of you trying on a feather boa, the laughter lines around your eyes crinkling joyously.

His shyness seemed to melt away with each click of the shutter. He talked about his passion for photography, the way light and shadow could tell a story, the fleeting beauty he found in the everyday. With the last of the photos taken Jonathan had spoken off heading home to his home-made photo processing lab to develop the photos. It didn’t take much pressing on your end to convince him to take you with him to see the photos develop. The drive out to his house was extremely quiet. Jonathan spared a few awkward glances to you during the drive, it was evident by the look on his face that he was nervous about having someone watch him develop his photographs.

The silence in the dimly lit photo lab was broken only by the sound of music playing in the background. Jonathan, his brow furrowed in concentration, meticulously hung the film canisters from a rack, a faint blush creeping up his neck as he caught you watching.

"You sure about this?" he mumbled, his voice barely audible above the music.

"Positive," You grinned, leaning against the counter. "I can't wait to see how they turned out."

He offered a shy smile back. "Me neither, to be honest. It's one thing taking the pictures, another entirely seeing them come to life."

The photo lab was a far cry from the bustling coffee shops and sun-drenched parks where your dates usually unfolded. But here, with the pungent smell of chemicals hanging in the air, a different kind of intimacy blossomed. You were sharing a secret, a peek into the process behind the magic of capturing a moment.

Jonathan, usually so reserved, transformed into a focused maestro. He explained the steps in hushed tones, a gentle pride radiating from him as he spoke about the dance of light and dark on the film. He described the anticipation of waiting for the image to appear in the developer bath, a baptism into reality for the fleeting moments he'd captured.

As the minutes ticked by, you watched in fascination. The nervous fumbling you'd witnessed the first time he held his camera had vanished, replaced by a quiet confidence. He moved with an almost ritualistic grace, his movements practiced yet imbued with a reverence for the process.

Finally, the first print emerged from the fixer bath, dripping with a clear, pearlescent sheen. Jonathan held it up to the dim light, his breath catching in his throat.

"There you are," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

It was the picture from the park, the one bathed in golden sunlight. But seeing it here, fresh from the developer, held a different kind of magic. The light seemed to glow from within, your smile radiating a newfound serenity.

He met your eyes, a shy smile gracing his lips. "Not bad, huh?"

"It's incredible," You breathed, reaching out to touch the wet paper. "It's like seeing myself through your eyes."

The next few minutes became a blur of anticipation and awe. Each photograph emerged from the chemical bath, a story revealed in silver and light. The playful chaos of the antique store, the quiet intimacy of the bookstore, the city skyline transformed into a canvas of dreams under the starlit night – each image brought back a flood of memories, enhanced by Jonathan's unique perspective.

When the last print emerged, shimmering wet in the dim light, a comfortable silence settled between you. You stood there for a moment, surrounded by the hum of music and the faint scent of chemicals, a connection forged in the shared experience of giving birth to these memories.

Finally, Jonathan turned to you, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity. "So," he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "What do you think?"

You smiled, your heart brimming with a warmth that had nothing to do with the chemical baths. "I think," You said, stepping closer, "we have a lot more stories to tell together."

Stepping out of the photo lab, the crisp night air felt like a welcome slap after the chemical haze inside. The streetlights cast a warm glow on Jonathan's face, his smile brighter than any neon sign. "Ready?" he asked, holding out the manila envelope filled with your memories.

You nodded, taking the envelope from him. Its weight felt significant now, a tangible record of the day. A day you didn’t want to end. You walked in comfortable silence to his car, a quiet understanding hanging between you. The drive to your apartment was filled with stolen glances. Each time your glances met, a shy smile would bloom on his face, mirrored by yours.

The radio played a slow ballad, the melody weaving itself into the comfortable silence. Jonathan seemed lost in his thoughts, a contemplative smile playing on his lips. You couldn't help but take a closer look at him in the soft glow of the dashboard lights. He looked different somehow – more confident, perhaps, with a spark of pride in his eyes.

Suddenly, he caught you staring. A blush crept up his neck as he quickly looked away, muttering something about taking a wrong turn. You let out a soft laugh, the sound breaking the tense silence.

"It's okay," You teased, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. "I like this detour."

He chuckled, then finally stopped at a red light, turning to face you. "Me too," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper.

His eyes held a depth you hadn't seen before, an unspoken question lurking beneath the surface. You felt your cheeks burning, a delicious mix of anticipation and nerves swirling in your stomach. Leaning forward, you brushed a stray strand of hair off his forehead.

"You're amazing," You whispered, surprising even yourself with the boldness.

He stared at you for a moment, his gaze so intense it stole your breath away. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, a smile that spoke volumes more than any words could.

The light turned green, and Jonathan pulled back into traffic. But the quiet magic of the moment lingered. You talked in snippets, about the pictures, about your shared dreams, about anything and everything that came to mind. Yet, the silences felt comfortable, filled with a new understanding that transcended words.

Finally, you pulled up in front of your apartment building. The engine hummed softly, neither of you wanting the night to end. He looked at you, his eyes filled with a question he didn't dare voice.

You reached over, your fingers brushing against his as you turned off the radio. "Would you like to see the pictures again?" you asked, offering the envelope.

A grin spread across his face, chasing away the nervousness. "I thought you'd never ask."

We walked up to your apartment, hand in hand, the weight of the envelope feeling lighter now, replaced by the warmth of connection. Stepping inside, you flicked on the lights, casting the room in a soft glow. He pulled out the pictures, and you spent the next hour reliving your adventure through Jonathan's lens. The pictures weren't just photographs anymore; they were keys that unlocked a treasure trove of shared memories, each one etched not just on film, but on your hearts.

As you sat staring at the photographs in the comfort of your apartment, he confessed, "You inspire me, you know? You make me see the world differently."

"Your greatest muse, huh?" You teased, remembering the phone call.

His blush deepened. "Well," he stammered, "maybe it's a bit too soon to say that, but..." he trailed off, then took a deep breath. "There's something about you. You light up a room, even with just a smile."

Walking him back to his car, the weight of his camera a comforting reminder of the afternoon, you realized it wasn't just him who'd been inspired. Jonathan, with his quiet passion and shy observations, had opened your eyes to the beauty in the ordinary.

As you reached his car, he handed me a small, worn print – one from our first date of you trying to take a photo of a lone flower. "For your inspiration," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You took the picture, the warmth of a blush echoing in your cheeks. "Thank you, Jonathan," you said, your voice thick with emotion. "You're my muse too." It felt true. In his own unique way, Jonathan had shown you the beauty of being seen, truly seen, and you couldn't wait to see where this shy photographer and his camera would take you next.

A tiny taste of my WIP!

The guy in the video store, the metal head guitarist in the band, the photographer, the lifeguard and the chief of police. Hawkins just seemed to breed hot guys. It didn’t help that all five had asked you the pretty new girl in Hawkins on a date. And you in your bumbling awkwardness had agreed to the five dates. You now sat in your apartment having a meltdown trying to find a solution to your problem.

The amount of awkward I feel cannot be accurately quantified right now. I'm currently sitting on a bus travelling to the next town over with a bunch of school kids. Behind me is 2 girls that I'm guessing are about 15/16. Apparently, they have been spying on my phone and text messages and they saw I was talking to my finance whose saved in my phone as 'My Man's' and ask me if the guy in the pink hoodie on my home screen is my boyfriend because his cute.....MY HOMESCREENS FRICKEN OLIVER STARK. Like girls in my dreams.

The homescreen photo in question.

telling people they’re gonna hate the ending isn’t exactly going to make people want to read lol

Not like many people are reading it anyway, just sort of wanted to warn people if you're looking for a happy ending, you won't find it here but also don't want to spoil what I have planned.

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love Part 18

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

1.5k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings none

Authors Note: 2 chapters to go!

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

The drive back to the bunker was long, the silence stretching between us. Sam kept his eyes on the road, gripping the wheel a little too tight. Y/N sat next to me, curled up against the door, her breathing slow and steady. Every so often, I’d glance at her, just to make sure she was okay.

When we finally pulled into the bunker, the familiar sight of home comforting.

Bobby and Theresa were waiting for us.

The moment Y/N stepped inside, Theresa was there, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Come on,” she murmured, leading her away toward our room.

I nodded at Bobby. He didn’t say anything, just gave me a long, unreadable look before turning his attention to Sam.

I shook off the weird tension and headed to the kitchen. The place was quiet, the kind of quiet that sinks into your bones. I pulled open the fridge and grabbed a beer, popping the cap off with practiced ease.

Behind me, I heard Sam walk in. I didn’t turn around. “Where’d Bobby go?” I asked, taking a sip.

Silence.

I frowned, glancing over my shoulder. Sam was sitting on the couch, his head tilted back, eyes closed.

“Really?” I huffed. “You could’ve at least answered before passing out.”

No response.

I rolled my eyes and leaned back against the counter, letting the beer sit heavy in my hand. The quiet stretched on, and for some reason, it started to get to me. The bunker always had this hum of life, a steady undercurrent of sound. But right now? It felt… empty.

I exhaled sharply and downed the rest of my beer. “Alright, I’m calling it,” I muttered. “I’m beat. Gonna get some sleep.”

I pushed off the counter and made my way down the hall. As I passed by, Theresa stepped out of her room, her eyes flicking up briefly.

I gave her a nod. “Night.”

She didn’t react. Didn’t even glance at me. Just turned and walked away.

I frowned. “Okay, cool. Good talk.”

Shaking my head, I pushed open the door to my room, to find Y/N already curled up in bed.

I hesitated for a second before stepping inside, closing the door behind me. The silence pressed in again, heavier this time.

…

The days after the hunt passed in a strange sort of haze. Y/N kept herself busy, floating through the bunker like a ghost, avoiding eye contact, avoiding conversation. Avoiding me. I didn’t push, didn’t ask. Something inside me told me I didn’t want to hear the answer.

Then Castiel showed up.

I felt the shift in the air before I even saw him. That familiar rustle of wings, the kind that always managed to set me on edge. I stepped out of my room just in time to see Y/N standing in the hall, arms crossed tight over her chest, staring him down.

"Go away," she said, her voice clipped.

Cas frowned, tilting his head. "Y/N—"

"I don't want to talk to you right now." She turned on her heel and walked away, disappearing into the library without a second glance.

Cas lingered for a moment, his expression unreadable. He turned his gaze toward me, but I didn’t move, just leaned against the doorframe and took a slow sip of my beer. He hesitated, then let out a quiet sigh, nodded once, and vanished.

…

It was Bobby who finally suggested we take a break from hunting. We were a week out from Centerville and everyone had thrown themselves into the work instead of taking the time to check in with each other.

"Theresa’s pregnant, and none of you idjits are exactly in top shape after what happened in Centerville," he said, leveling us all with one of those no-nonsense looks of his. "Take some time off. Regroup. Get your heads straight."

Sam nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. Y/N sat across from him, eyes downcast, picking at the sleeve of her hoodie.

No one argued.

…

The weeks that followed were quiet. Too quiet.

Y/N spent a lot of time in the library, flipping through lore books she wasn’t really reading. She stayed in bed later than usual, went to bed earlier. At first, it was easy to chalk up to exhaustion, but then little things started adding up.

She barely touched her coffee anymore. Certain foods made her turn pale. It was like she was punishing herself. Denying herself her normal pleasures as some sort of punishment for what I wasn’t sure. All my attempts to help her seemed to fall flat. It was as if she was pretending I didn’t exist. I understand why she was mad but to stay mad this long? I wasn’t a pro at long term relationships but this didn’t seem right.

…

Y/N’s P.O.V

I had to know for sure.

Leaving the bunker felt strange, like I was slipping away unnoticed even though no one had been paying much attention to me lately. Not that I wanted to be noticed. I got in the car and drove into town, my fingers tight on the wheel, my heart hammering against my ribs. The pharmacy was nearly empty when I walked in, my footsteps muted against the linoleum floors. I knew exactly what I was looking for, but I still hesitated before grabbing them—two, no, three boxes of pregnancy tests. Just in case.

The cashier didn’t say much, and I barely heard what little they did. I paid in cash, shoved the bag deep into my pocket, and walked out into the cool afternoon air. I needed somewhere private, somewhere no one would find me.

The park. It was quiet, tucked just off the main road. The public restroom was clean enough, and right now, that was all that mattered.

Locking myself in a stall, I took a deep breath and pulled the tests from the bag. My hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped one, but I forced myself to focus. One by one, I took them, lined them up along the edge of the sink, and waited.

Two minutes felt like an eternity.

Then, all at once, the results appeared.

Positive.

All of them.

My breath hitched. My chest tightened, and I pressed a hand to my mouth as hot tears welled in my eyes. I stumbled back against the wall, gripping my stomach with the other hand as if that could somehow steady me.

Pregnant.

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. Not now, not like this.

But it was.

And I had no idea what to do.

…

I didn’t tell anyone.

Instead, I hid it. I wore baggy clothes, trained less, avoided heavy lifting. I found a doctor, went to appointments alone, tucked every ultrasound photo away in a vent under the bed where no one would see. I made excuses when asked why I was hiding in the library so much and not training as much as I use to. I let Sam and Bobby believe I was still shaken from Centerville and needed to concentrate on the lore so I didn’t get caught out again. If they suspected anything, they didn’t say.

The bunker carried on as usual. Sam threw himself into research. Bobby checked in regularly. Theresa kept making lists of baby names and nursery ideas.

She had dozens of them, written in the neat, careful handwriting she always used when she was excited. She pored over books, websites, even old family records, scribbling down possibilities in a notebook she carried everywhere. Every few days, she’d cross out some and add more, her favorites changing constantly.

"What about something classic? Elizabeth, Katherine, maybe Charlotte?" she’d muse out loud. Then, the next day, she’d pivot. "Or maybe something unique! Juniper, Lark, Wren—something that stands out."

Sam indulged her, offering occasional input but mostly just smiling as she planned. She even started setting up a nursery in one of the spare rooms, painting the walls a soft green at first before deciding on a pale yellow instead. She rearranged the furniture over and over, never quite satisfied with where the crib should go. Every day, something was moved, adjusted, perfected.

And Dean—

I swallowed hard, pushing that thought away.

…

Theresa was the one who found out first.

It was late, and I’d just gotten out of the shower. Standing clad in tights and a bra I dug through my dresser for a clean shirt. The door swung open, and I barely had time to react before Theresa stepped inside, chattering about something—until she froze.

I turned, my heart hammering in my chest, my damp hair dripping down my back. Her gaze had zeroed in on the unmistakable curve of my belly.

"Oh my God," she whispered, eyes wide. "You're pregnant."

My breath caught. "Taz—"

"How long?" Her voice was softer now, laced with concern.

"Five months."

Her expression shifted, something between shock and heartbreak. "You’ve been hiding this for five months?"

I nodded, my throat tightening. "I… I didn’t know how to tell anyone."

For a long moment, she just stared at me. Then, finally, she let out a small, breathy laugh and stepped forward, pulling me into a hug.

"You idiot," she whispered. "You didn’t have to do this alone."

I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping her back just as tightly.

Maybe I didn’t have to do this alone anymore.

My Upcoming WIPs!

You suddenly decided to take the leap with Don Flack on a whim. In less then a week you'll be living together, with a child and your father Mac Taylors disapproval. This is certainly not how your suppose to start a relationship.

Your a firefighter with the 118. Your engaged to Evan Buckley who you've been madly in love with for 4 years. Life is perfect. That is until a late night in the fire house sees a spark between you and your Captain Bobby Nash who happens to be a married man.

When the new firefighter in the house Eddie Diaz becomes best friends with your boyfriend Evan Buckley you can't help but notice a change in him. A bad change. Late nights and hushed conversations are just the beginning of this thrill ride.