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Missed you (Colter Shaw x Fe!Reader)
Summary: You have been traveling with Colter for a few weeks, your relationship was still relatively new. Colter comes back to the trailer after finishing a job and you're waiting for him.
Trigger Warnings: mentions of wounds and bruises
just a short fluff one really :) I'm not a native speaker so excuse any mistakes. Also if you like this, feel free to send me any requests.
about 480 words (not proof read)
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You were sprawled out over the bench seat of the Airstream, your laptop on your lap. Through the window headlights lit up the trailer, and you peeked outside to see the black GMC pull up. You smiled and put your laptop away, getting up to greet Colter. The door to the trailer opened and Colter stepped in, giving you a smile when he saw you walking up to him.
“Hey gorgeous” he said and let the door fall shut behind him, preoccupied with pressing his lips on yours. “Brought some food.” He held up a paper bag.
“Good, I’m starving” you replied and took it from him so he could undress. You watched him peel of his jacket, pulling a face.
“What did you get into this time?” you asked worried and walked over to him, leaving the food on the counter, ready to inspect his wounds.
“It’s just a little cut and a few bruises” he shrugged it off.
“Yeah right, let me help you” you rolled your eyes and ran your hands under his shirt to help him take it off. He had a small cut on his abs and a bunch of bruises on his chest and back. He also had a bruise on his cheekbone, that had already turned purple. He watched you closely as you cleaned the cut and put a band-aid on it, moving on to inspecting the bruises.
“What is it?” you raised a brow at his smirk.
“Nothing” he shrugged, “I’m just not used to someone being here to take care of me.”
“Well, you better get used to it, ‘cause I’m not going anywhere” you smiled.
“I sure hope so” Colter replied, his gaze soft and loving, making your heart flutter. You could just melt at the way he was looking at you. He leaned in but let you close the final distance, his way of asking for consent to kiss you. His lips were soft and instantly started moving against yours. You smiled into the kiss, your hands on his chest, feeling the muscles flex, as he pulled you closer. You pulled away, leaving him pouting a little.
“I want to eat this before it gets cold” you nodded at the take-out he had brought and went to put it on plates. Colter sighed and put a fresh shirt on, while you placed the plates on the table and took a beer out of the fridge for him.
You could feel him creep up behind you, as you placed the beer on the table. His arms wrapped around your waist and his lips lightly caressed your neck.
“I missed you” he hummed, his breath tickling your skin.
“You’ve only been gone for like 12 hours” you chuckled, turning around to face him.
“That’s too long” he pouted and once again pressed his lips onto yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and returned his kiss.
#colter shaw fanfiction#colter shaw#tracker#tracker cbs#colter shaw x reader#justin hartley#tracker fanfiction
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Imagine...Running Into Colter On A Job
Pairing: Colter Shaw x reader
A/N: I've been re-watching Tracker before Season 2 starts and I'm dipping my toe in the Colter fanfic world finally! Just a little something short, sweet and sassy to start with!
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Your heart skipped a beat as you rounded the corner and spotted a man, his expression turning confused. “Colter Shaw?”
“Y/N?” You cleared the room before going to where he was handcuffed to a pipe. “What are you doing here?”
“Rescuing you apparently.” You pulled your lock pick from the back of your jeans, jamming it in the key hole. “How’d this happen?”
“What are you doing here?” He repeated, an edge of agitation in his voice this time. You snapped the cuff open, frowning at him as he popped to his feet.
“Working the same job as you.” You got up, his hand on your arm pulling you up but you quickly shrugged him off.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, grabbing your bicep again, keeping you behind him. You punched him in the arm, Colter dropping you, rubbing his shoulder. “What the hell-”
“Do not treat me like a damsel, Shaw. I saved your ass, remember?” You brushed on ahead of him, taking your small handgun from the waistband of your jeans. He wanted to retort but you shushed him, Colter scowling but staying behind you.
You cleared the building quickly, only slightly surprised when you found the teenager you were looking for sat uncomfortably on a chair while an older man watched TV in the corner. Colter tapped your shoulder, pointing at the kid. You rolled your eyes but went along with it. If he wanted to get in a wrestling match with the big guy, he could go for it.
Two minutes later Colter was sat on the man’s back, securing him with the zip tie you tossed over from your jacket pocket.
“Hey, Henry,” you said, the kid looking relieved. “Your step dad do anything to you?”
“No. I just want to go home.” You helped him to his feet, giving Colter a nod.
“Then let’s get you home, buddy.”
“Shaw,” you grit out in the parking lot of the police station a few hours later. Colter glanced up from his phone before shoving it in his pocket. “What the hell was that back there?”
“Nice to see you too,” he chuckled. “What are you doing-”
“Are you allergic to answering a question?” you prodded, crossing his arms. His eyebrows shot up, a stupid smile on his face. “I asked you first.”
“Wow. You are not the timid accountant you once were.” You scoffed.
“First off, you met me when I’d been kidnapped. I was having a rough day. Is that why you were so pushy back at the farm?”
He sighed, looking over your head. “Listen, I don’t know what you were capable of. I didn’t need another kidnapping victim on my hands.”
You smiled, stepping in closer, his adam’s apple bobbing. “The balls on you to say that to the person that, oh, literally helped you escape? Hm?”
He frowned, rolling his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Sure you are,” you said, walking past him for your truck.
“Wait!” he said, jogging to your side. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Does this answer it?” you said, pulling out an envelope full of reward money. Colter looked dumbfounded and you found the expression sort of adorable on his handsome face. “Sorry, seeing as how I found their son, the parents felt I deserved the reward.”
“You track rewards? You?” You patted his cheek, shaking your head.
“It’s a good thing you’re so handsome,” you teased, turning your back to him with a whistle. “Better luck next time, Shaw!”
“But…you’re an accountant!” he called after you.
“Former accountant,” you said, spinning around, walking backwards with a grin. “Turns out I make way more money doing this. A little weapons training here, a little martial arts there and a pushup bra go a long fucking way, Colter.”
“The fuck…” he trailed off as you winked at him. “Y/N!”
“Catch you on the next one, Colter!”
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#colter shaw x reader#colter shaw#tracker#tracker fanfiction#colter shaw fanfiction#colter shaw fanfic#colter x reader#colter shaw x female!reader#colter x female!reader#tracker fanfic#colter shaw imagine#justin hartley
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November 2024 Fic Recs
A list of what I've read/am reading this month. It's going to be a short one unfortunately because I haven't had much time but hopefully next month will be a little longer.
All recs underneath the cut:
Rough Around the Edges by @lila-lou (Jack Durfy x Reader)
Summary: Jack's day couldn’t have gotten any worse. Exhausted from a grueling shift under the scorching sun, he just wanted to crash at home with some wings and a football game. But his plans for a quiet night were shattered when the racket from his new neighbor echoed through the walls.
Teaser:
Jack groaned in annoyance, rubbing a hand across his face. Just great. As if the week hadn’t been exhausting enough, now he had to imagine his weekend being a noisy mess thanks to whoever was moving in. All he wanted was some peace and quiet. Instead, it seemed like his weekend would be filled with endless bangs and thuds coming from across the hall.
Another loud thud echoed through the hallway, followed by a soft “Ouchy” that made him roll his eyes. He could already picture some clueless person fumbling around with boxes, knocking stuff over, and generally making a racket. The kind of person who probably had no idea how to move without turning it into a circus.
Jack shifted the bucket of wings under his arm, debating whether or not to knock on the door. Part of him wanted to just ignore it, retreat into his apartment, and hope for the best. But the other part, the more frustrated part, was tempted to knock and tell them to keep it down. He’d had a long week, and he deserved a break, damn it.
Finally, he took a deep breath and approached the door, raising his fist to knock.
Just then, the door swung open unexpectedly, and there you were, looking frazzled and clearly unprepared for company. You were wearing nothing more than a pair of shorts and a tank top, your skin glistening slightly from the heat. Your hair, a messy bun on top of your head, looked like it had been thrown together in a hurry, and you had no makeup on, not that you needed it.
Jack blinked, momentarily caught off guard, staring at the younger woman standing in front of him.
You, on the other hand, were equally surprised to see the man standing in front of you. He had to be at least double your age, but damn, he was handsome—broad-shouldered, his shirt sticking to his body in places from what looked like a long day of work, and those tired, slightly irritated eyes that made him seem like someone who didn’t put up with much nonsense.
“Uh… hi”, you blurted, your voice a little breathless from all the moving. You glanced down at the two boxes sitting in front of your door, which you had come out to grab. “Sorry about the noise. I swear, I’m almost done”.
Jack let out a deep breath. “Yeah, I was kind of wondering if you were trying to tear the place down before you even moved in”.
You laughed, a soft, self-conscious sound, running a hand over your face. “Feels like it. I’m not exactly an expert at this moving thing. Been here all day, and I’m pretty sure I’ve destroyed more stuff than I’ve unpacked”.
Jack’s eyes flicked over you, taking in the sight of your casual shorts and tank top, the slight sheen of sweat on your skin. His gaze wasn’t lewd, but it was unmistakably assessing, like he was trying to figure you out.
Get Stuffed by @zepskies (Dean Winchester x Reader)
Summary: Dean enjoys the way you cook Christmas dinner with a Latin flair, even if Sam likes to tease him about his insatiable appetite. You remind Sam about the true reason behind one of Dean’s biggest quirks.
Teaser:
“Aw, hell yeah,” Dean mutters. He rubs his hands together and surveys the immovable feast that’s about to get shoveled into his mouth.
This Christmas marks roughly your first year living with the brothers Winchester in the bunker, and a few months after your first anniversary with Dean.
He’s made it very clear that he enjoys your cooking, especially of Cuban food. So you’ve gone all out for Christmas: white rice and your grandmother’s recipe for black beans, boiled yuca with plenty of garlic, bread drizzled with more garlic and olive oil, and Dean’s favorite…
“What’s this part of the pig called again?” he asks. And he uses a large fork to spear into the mountain of roasted meat that you’ve already cut and piled onto a platter.
You come in from the kitchen with the bread in hand, placing it on the dinner table. You sidle up behind him, where he’s seated.
“The shoulder,” you say, squeezing both of Dean’s. He hums in interest as you press a kiss to the side of his head. “It’s called pernil. Marinated with garlic, mojo, bunch of good stuff.”
He predictably steals a juicy piece of meat, plopping it into his mouth. He grins while he chews and makes a happy sound.
“Ohoho, yeah.”
You share an amused look with Sam, who sits beside his brother. By the time you’ve found your seat on Dean’s other side, he’s already serving you and Sam the same hefty portions he serves himself.
You know for a fact you’re only going to eat about half of your plate. Sam manages to polish his off. Dean does as well…and serves himself twice more before you break out the dessert.
“Please tell me that’s a flan,” Dean says, drumming his fingers on the table.
“How the hell are you still hungry?” Sam asks.
The look on his face says he’s half entertained, half disgusted. Dean is still sucking on the crispy skin on a piece of pork. He licks the juices off his fingers.
“Have I taught you nothing?” he says. “There’s always room for dessert.”
He tosses you a wink, followed closely by a suggestive smirk.
Spicy Things by @homicidal-slvt (Russell Shaw x Reader)
Summary: Russell likes your spicy attitude.
Teaser:
You're watching this man drizzle sriracha all over his fries like some sort of hot sauce goblin. Why in the hell did you agree to go out with him? You'll never know.... Somehow that goofy smile of his charmed you into it.
"Russ.... Do you always eat like this?"
"Possibly."
With an exaggerated eye roll you take another bite of your burger.
"What can I say... I like things a little spicy."
With a wink thrown your way - you nearly choke. That was cheesy. Awful. Stupid... God damn it, you've got it bad.
Under the Montana Skies by @spnbaby-67 (Beau Arlen x Reader)
Teaser:
The air was crisp and filled with the scent of pine as you stood outside Beau Arlen's trailer in the heart of Montana. You and Beau had been friends for years, but lately, something had shifted between you two. The tension in the air was palpable, and tonight, under the starry Montana sky, it was finally time to address it.
Beau, with his rugged charm and flannel shirt, looked at you with those piercing green eyes. "You know, darlin', I've been wantin' to do this for a long time," he said, his voice a low drawl that sent shivers down your spine.
No One Will Notice by @deanwanddamons (Demon!Dean x Reader)
Summary: Y/N hopes that she sees the mysterious Dean again.
Teaser:
He had returned.
You smirked as your gaze met the emerald green eyes you would never forget.
Dean sauntered across the room towards you, his confidence oozing out of him in waves as he expertly navigated the patrons and tables that were in his way. He avoided them with ease, even though his intense stare never left your face.
When he reached the edge of the raised platform you were performing on, he dropped down onto a bar stool, still not averting his eyes from yours as you stepped forward until your stilettos were directly in line with his broad shoulders. His arrogance was obvious for all to see when, without taking any notice of the fact numerous other men were vying for your attention by waving dollars at you, he reached into his pocket and produced a wad of cash, throwing it down onto the surface in front of him.
“Go ahead. Pick it up,” he mouthed, popping the P.
A wide grin pulled at your lips as you crouched down before him, balancing precariously on your high heels, your inner thighs, and clothed mound level with his freckled face as one large hand wrapped around your hip, jerking you towards him which almost toppled you over. This action forced you to sit and scoot forward, your ass hitting the edge of the stage. Pushing his chair back, he tugged you down onto his lap, totally oblivious to or seemingly not caring about the ‘no touching’ rule the bar had in place, his calloused palm roaming over your hot skin.
“Hey, sweetheart. Remember me?” He questioned.
“How could I forget?” You whispered, your noses touching, lips only an inch apart.
Rightfully Deceived by @jessjad (Dean Winchester x Reader)
Summary: When a marriage promise forces Y/N to step up for her younger sister, she gets something she always wanted. But when the truth comes out, her new husband Dean is not so happy about the mix-up. Will she loose it all? Or will she be surprised in the end?
Teaser:
The man she was about to marry was Dean Winchester, Earl of the Winchester Clan. Rich, a lot of money to his name. Famous for his stubborn and unyielding business acumen. And devilishly good looking. Tall, broad shoulders, a voice as deep as the ocean and eyes as green as a sea of jades.
Yeah, Y/N has been in love with him since the first time she had seen him. But unfortunatly to her, he only seemed to have eyes for her younger sister, Helena.
The first time Dean visited her fathers castle, Y/N had welcomed him in and offered food and drinks. With a warm smile that made her heart flutter he accepted it. Her father appeared only minutes later and the men started a friendly conversation, resulting in Dean offering her father that he could always ask for help if needed. Since Dean had bought the land next to theirs it was the right thing to do. Not knowing then that five years later, her father would take him up on that offer.
Just when Dean was about to leave again, Helena had come in from the outside. Some hay in her hair and on her dress, indicating that she came fresh from the staples. And that was the moment Y/N saw it. The change in Dean's face. His eyes had widened a little, his mouth a little slack. Helena had smiled at him and all of a sudden he was lost for words.
That's when Y/N's heart sank to the ground. From then on it seemed as if she became invisible.
Stay by @bullet-prooflove (Colter Shaw x Reader)
Summary: Colter can never ask for you to stay.
Teaser:
It’s been three months since Colter last had his hands on you, since he made love to you in the Airstream, the sound of rain pattering on the roof. He remembers falling asleep tangled up in you, his fingers combing lightly through your hair, his heart thundering against yours.
He also remembers waking up alone, his hand smoothing over the vacant space as he sighed because he’d always been the one that left and he hadn’t realised just how bad that felt until it happened to him.
It’s over coffee that morning that he sits, watching the droplets cascade down the windows and thinks about why it’s different with you.
That's all I've been able to get through so far! Please forgive my graphics btw. Not so great with those but I wanted to put a little visual with each one.
I haven't figured out yet if I'm going to post at the beginning of each month or mid-month. I'm still trying to figure that all out, but please definitely follow this blog and set notifications for those postings if you would like to see each list when they post. All review reblogs of these works will also be posted here moving forward.
Oh, and before I forget...
Thank you!!! 💕💕
all dividers by @saradika-graphics
#biggerbearficrecs#november 2024#dean winchester fanfiction#colter shaw fanfiction#russell shaw fanfiction#beau arlen fanfiction#jack durfy fanfiction#demon!dean fanfiction
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Colter Shaw Fic Recs List
Off Limits by @marvelwitchergilmore - Four times Colter told people (mainly his brother) you were off limits, and the one time he proved why.
Stay by @bullet-prooflove - Colter can never ask for you to stay.
The Maybe Girl by @bullet-prooflove - Colter makes a mistake by revealing his feelings for you.
*I will add more as I go
dividers by @firefly-graphics
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A Line and a Half
Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader
Summary: When Dory’s eldest brother comes to visit her at Wyoming University, you don’t know quite what to make of Russell Shaw. But he knows exactly what he wants to make of you.
AN: Okay, here’s my first toe-dip into the world of Tracker with Russell Shaw! 1x12 gave me too many ideas not to explore this intriguing character. This is set before episode 12, but I have a little series I want to sketch out that will continue after this one-shot, so think of this as a “Part 1,” if you will. 😉
Word Count: 3.2K
Tags/Warnings: A kind of “meet cute,” attempts at flirting, and hints of setup for more to come…
You watched, silently simmering, as Dr. Goldstein added yet another packet of internship applications from his graduate students onto your desk.
Applicants that he, as the History Department Chairman, was supposed to review himself. Instead, he’d been adding these hours quite literally onto your desk.
“If you could review these for me as well, sweetheart. Thank you,” he said. “Get ‘em back to me by Thursday, okay?”
As a Professor of History with two doctorates in your name, you once again grated internally at sweetheart, but you tried to keep that cringe off your face as well.
Goldstein barely even met your eyes when he dropped off his burden, and then aimed to leave your office.
“Uh, Paul,” you called out, raising a finger. You stood from your desk as quickly as you could in your pencil skirt, but the man was already out the door. You followed him out, your heels clacking on the tile floor.
Damn it. Knew I should’ve gone with pants, you said, continuing to hasten after your boss.
“Paul! Just a second,” you said. That finally managed to turn the man’s head off of his phone. He glanced at you while checking his watch.
“About the internship applications…and your midterm exam essays for that matter. Don’t you think—” you started to say, but the man spoke over you.
“I’m sorry, I’ve got to run. Meeting my massage therapist at noon,” he said, and rolled a seemingly stiff shoulder under his tailored blazer. “Something’s just not right here after my trip to Cali last weekend. I don’t know what I did, pulled muscle or something. But hey, they do say parasailing is a sport.”
You quirked a brow. “Do they?”
You weren’t sure that being strapped into a parachute for a nice air glide over the Pacific counted as a sport.
Goldstein shrugged at your question and he kept walking down the hall. Though he turned back to toss you a pointed finger.
“Need those by Thursday. Thanks, you’re the best,” he said.
You watched him go, as proverbial steam began to escape through your ears. Slowly you pivoted on your heels, and you went back to your office. You grimaced at the large stack of applications. You were pretty sure he padded them with an extra section of midterm exams.
Tapping your nails on your desk, you grabbed your phone next to your desktop and checked the time. 11:30 a.m.
Screw it. I’m going to lunch, you thought.
Dory had to be out of her Intro Physics class by now, which meant she’d be in her office, ready for you to drop in on her a little early. You took up your purse and almost made it out the door…but at the last moment, your anal brain made you turn back to grab a shoulder bag and the pile of applications. Maybe you could knock out a few during lunch.
Friggin’ doormat, as your brother would say. Laughing at you, probably.
You rolled your eyes and headed back out the door with your haul of papers, purse, work bag, and keys, locking your office behind you.
Why, oh why did the Sciences building have to be on the other side of campus?
It was damn near a mile walk from your Humanities building over to Dory’s office on the second floor. Your hands were laden with packets that couldn’t be contained by your heavy work bag, your purse was slipping off your shoulder, and these heels were killing your feet.
It was a miracle you and Dory had ever met on this campus. On your first day of teaching, you’d of course been hopelessly lost. Somehow you ended up at the tail-end of one of her classes in one of the science auditoriums.
She’d been gracious enough to help you, and even walked you all the way to the Humanities building so you could find your World History class before the students decided to just get up and leave. (And after fifteen minutes, they very well would.)
That day, she became your first real friend at Wyoming University. In the three years since, she’d become your best friend.
And now, her door was mercifully open halfway. You pushed it open and stumbled just a little from the transition of tile to carpet inside her office. Your papers nearly flew from your hands, so you struggled to right yourself and contain them all back into the semblance of neatness.
“Hey, girl. You better be ready for lunch because Jesus fucking Christ. Goldstein’s up my ass again and all I’ve had today is a crusty donut from the teacher’s lounge, which I’m pretty sure was stale,” you said, with your brows furrowed in frustration.
When you finally looked up from your struggles, you realized that Dory wasn’t alone. She smiled at you in amusement, sitting at her desk beside a man who made you pause. Your eyes widened.
He was leaning casually with an elbow propped up on her desk, dressed in jeans and a worn, pale green jacket—a good match for his eyes. He looked a little rugged for Dory’s tastes, but you couldn’t fault her, with the cut of that bearded jaw, and the smile raising the corners of his lips.
“Hey,” Dory laughed. “I see you’re having a good day.”
You bit your lip in embarrassment, probably smudging your lipstick.
“I’m so sorry. I should’ve knocked first,” you said, though you could see she seemed to be having an actual good day. Office picnic? Or maybe the handsome stranger was getting ready to take her out.
Dory just waved you in. She stood and set a hand on her companion’s shoulder, and he got up along with her.
“It’s okay. This is my brother, Russell,” she said, and she introduced you in kind.
“Well, hi there,” he said. He subtly took you in with his eyes as he held out his hand. Already you felt your face heating up with more than just embarrassment.
You were a bit shocked as well, to say the least. Dory had told you some…interesting things about her family, including the fact that she had two older brothers. You wondered which one this was, the middle child, or the eldest.
“Hi! Sorry. Again. Nice to meet you,” you said. You tried to hold your hand out to reach his, but a few papers began to spill out. You clutched at them on reflex, but Russell drew in quickly to help you.
“Got yourself a load there,” he said. You agreed with an awkward laugh and a shrug of your shoulders.
“My boss’s idea of extra credit,” you said wryly.
“You can set it down on that chair over there,” Dory said, pointing to one against the back wall, next to a tall filing cabinet.
You and Russell meandered over and managed to set down the stack without casualty. You were able to pull up the straps of your bag and your purse from falling off your shoulder and give him a grateful look.
“Thanks,” you said.
“No problem,” he said, giving you an easy smile back. “I actually crashed in unannounced, so if you two wanna to head to lunch, you go right ahead.”
“Uh, no. I haven’t seen you in months! You should come with us,” Dory said. She grabbed her purse to join you and Russell by the door.
You raised your hands in placation. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude, especially if it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other. You guys should catch up.”
Dory shook her head and grabbed your hand.
“Uh, uh. I want to hear the latest on Paul’s bullshit, and why you’re carrying half your office across campus. Let’s go,” she said, and gestured at your work bag. “Leave that here. You’re gonna eat and talk to me. No working involved.”
You laughed, but you agreed to her cajoling. With another glance at her brother, and those green eyes that seemed to be dancing, you joined them for lunch.
The three of you ended up at a diner that you and Dory frequented at least once a week. The food was good, the service was quick, and it was close to campus. Wins all around. Russell seemed to be enjoying himself, as he hummed in delight after the very first bite of his Philly cheesesteak.
“Sriracha on fries, huh?” you remarked, gesturing at the man’s plate. Your brow was quirked, but he shot you a smile.
“I said avert your eyes,” he teased. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, sweetheart.”
Ugh. Another sweethearting man. You narrowed your own eyes at him a bit. He caught the look and raised a hand in defense (the one that wasn’t holding his cheesesteak).
“Uh oh. What’d I do?” he asked.
“You gave her some PTSD,” Dory said with a laugh. “Dr. Goldstein likes to sugar coat his demands with sexism.”
Russell noted your souring look with apology. You’d just finished recounting your morning for your friend, and recapping years of “sugar-coated demands” for Russell.
“Why don’t you just tell him to cram it up his…uh…” he paused. Seeing his little sister’s look of amusement, he amended. “Or you know, stuff it.”
A smile twitched at your lips. “Oh, believe me, I’d love to tell him to stuff it. But he’s technically my boss, and the department chair. Even though I’ve basically been doing his job for two years now.”
“Well, that sucks,” Russell said. “And I feel for ya. I’ve had my share of shitty bosses in my time.”
You sighed and accepted his commiseration with a nod.
It wasn’t fair, but Goldstein planned to retire early in a few years. Must be nice.
When he did, it would make you the most likely candidate to replace him as department chair. The way you saw it, this was giving you plenty of practice before you (hopefully) inherited the position.
Anyway, you shook your head. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore. You were more curious about one Russell Shaw. You now knew he was an army vet, and he carried himself like one. Calm, controlled, even though his smiles came easy. His tousled hair and beard, while well-trimmed and neat, still gave him a roguish quality.
“So let me guess. You’re…the eldest?” you asked. You blotted at your mouth with a napkin, having finished your chicken panini.
Russell treated you to another one of those smiles, though this one held a hint of more.
“Guilty. Though I’m the handsome one,” he said with a wink.
You found yourself smiling behind your napkin.
“I’m sure,” you replied.
Dory rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind him. Apparently my brother’s an incorrigible flirt.”
He chuckled and sipped at his beer, but then he grimaced.
“Ech. Friggin’ weak,” he said. “I brew better than this outta the trunk of my car.”
You raised a brow at that. “You make your own beer?”
“Damn straight,” he said. His gaze turned a hint more playful. “Next time I’ll bring you some. You can tell me what you think.”
You shared a telling look with Dory.
“Next time, huh?” you asked.
“Sure,” he inclined his head. “I pop into town from time to time. Gotta check in and pester my little sister, the physics professor.”
He laid a hand on Dory’s shoulder, squeezing warmly. You could see the pride in his eyes, and it warmed you as well.
She turned to him with a smile, reaching up to cover his hand with hers.
“You don’t pester me. I’d love it if I got to see you more often,” she said.
“Ah, I know, I’m sorry,” he said, releasing her. “My job’s got me all over the place. But I’ll be here for a week or so on this gig.”
That intrigued you. “What do you do for work?”
“Ah, well, you could say I'm a contractor. Private security mainly,” said Russell. His shoulders shifted as he became a little more guarded, you noticed. “My company connects me with the client for as long as the job lasts. Could be a few months, sometimes a few days, depending.”
“Oh, wow. Do you live here in Wyoming?” you asked. He paused, but tilted his head a little, back and forth as he considered your question.
“I kinda bounce around,” he said. “Just go from one job to the next. Sounds a bit unorthodox, I know, but it’s a living.”
“Interesting,” you nodded, but inside, you thought that sounded like a hard way to live.
Unstable…and lonely.
“You know, it’s amazing how much you and Colter have in common,” Dory said. She folded her hands on the table and met her brother with a pointed look.
He huffed in response, though he glanced at you, then back at his sister. As if he was saying, You really want to do this now?
Dory had told you before that Colter was a “rewardist,” or some kind of bounty hunter. The nature of his work kept him busy, and seemingly too busy for his sister. But you also sensed there was an edgier history here.
For the first time, you felt like you were intruding in a moment between brother and sister that went beyond words.
After a moment, Russell shook his head.
“Look, I tried with him, all right? He won’t talk to me,” he said. He went back to eating, polishing off his fries. He offered you one that was half-smothered in sriracha.
“Come on. Live on the edge with me,” he teased.
You eyed the sauce-covered fry in distaste, but after glancing up at his more playful smile, you accepted his offer. You chewed in contemplation, and found that the tangy hint of kick wasn’t so bad.
“Eh? Eeeh? Delicious, am I right?” he said, his hands going wide.
You rolled your eyes, but you nodded in agreement.
“It’s all right,” you replied.
“Yes!” Russell’s hands swept up higher, like he was celebrating a touchdown. "See, I told ya."
You couldn’t help but laugh. Dory shook her head fondly and gave him a clean napkin for the bit of schmutz she spotted at the corner of his mouth.
“Here, wipe your sriracha face.”
“You really don’t have to,” you said, as Russell helped you gather your stack of papers and slung your work bag over his shoulder.
“No, no. I’m a bonafide gentleman. Ain’t that right, D?” he asked his sister. She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes again, but she did give you a knowing smile.
“Oh, his intentions are pure,” she said.
And by that, you both understood her meaning. His intentions couldn’t be any clearer than a mallet over the head, but you kind of found it endearing.
This man really carried your stuff from the Sciences building across the entire campus to your office. All the while, he asked you about how you and Dory met, the kinds of things you two did together, and if you thought she was happy working here.
You had a feeling he was trying to learn more about his sister’s life. On one hand, it was rather sweet. On the other, it made you realize that there was distance in this family, both literal and figurative. You were glad to hear that Russell, at least, was trying to bridge that gap with his sister. Dory deserved to have more of that in her life.
As you explained to Russell while you led him down the hall to your office, your friendship with her had just…clicked. From the very beginning.
“Dory, you know. She’s more than kind,” you said. “She’s a real one. I can rely on her, even when I can’t rely on my own family.”
Russell hummed at that. “That sounds like a story.”
“Yeah,” you said, glancing away for a moment. You smiled and met his gaze once more. “Maybe one for another time.”
“So you’re on board with a ‘next time.’ Good to know,” Russell remarked. Your smile deepened.
It was good timing when you two finally reached your office. You unlocked it and let him inside, so he could set down your bag, and the god-forsaken stack of internship applications back onto your desk. You’d probably be stuck here working late on those.
“Well, thank you so much. You really didn’t have to schlep for me,” you said.
When you turned, Russell was a bit close. Not uncomfortably so, but enough to make a trill of something zip up your spine. You smelled more intensely his cologne, woodsy and warm. Looking up at him, you once again found his smile.
“It’s no problem,” he said, but his eyes met yours for a moment, as if he lost his train of thought.
“What?” you asked, a bit nervous.
“Anybody ever tell you, you got soulful eyes?” he asked.
It took your brain a second or two to compute, but when his words registered, you had to laugh. You held it behind your hand, while the other went to steady yourself on your desk.
“Well, that’s a line if I’ve ever heard one,” you said, shading your “soulful” eyes with a hand.
You didn’t know it, but Russell’s face warmed in slight embarrassment. He recovered though, taking in your pretty laugh, and the shade of your hair, let loose around your shoulders, and yes, your eyes, when you let him see them again.
If he hadn’t known before, now he was convinced.
He wanted to see more of you before he left town.
“Hey, now that was 100% genuine,” Russell said, but his grin spoke volumes. When your mirth died down, he scratched the back of his head.
“Okay, cards on the table. Would you be interested in grabbing a drink with me sometime?” he asked.
You took in a breath at that. You actually did consider his offer, because homebrew and sriracha fries be damned, there was something more to him. It was lying in wait, behind those eyes that were drawing you in.
However, this was also a man whose job basically made him a nomad. It didn’t exactly scream relationship material.
Which only left the alternative: something…casual.
You just didn’t know if that alternative was such a good idea. Not with your best friend’s brother.
“Just a drink. No frills, no more grilling you about my sister,” Russell said, breaking you from your deliberation. He gestured a hand between the two of you. “Just this. You and me.”
Eventually, you sighed. Your lips raised into a more genuine smile.
“Sometime, huh?” you asked.
He smiled back. “Tonight?”
You hesitated, but despite your better judgment, you nodded before you could change your mind. You still weren’t sure what to make of this guy, but you were willing to find out.
“Sure,” you said. “Howley’s at eight?”
“Well, all right,” Russell said.
He surprised you by sweeping up your hand into his. You looked up at him, curious, but not wary. Anticipation tingled down your spine.
He pressed his lips to the back of your hand. Soft shock made your eyes widen as you blushed, feeling the subtle graze of his beard against your skin.
Who is this guy, Cary Grant? you thought.
But when he pulled away, you had to remind yourself to breathe. Again, you caught sight of his cheeky grin.
“See you tonight,” he said.
AN: He is beauty he is grace, he is Mr. Sriracha Face. 😆
Let me know if you guys liked this! 💜 It's my first time writing a character based solely on one episode, but next up is a series that will continue this one-shot. It's called Every Second Counts.
Next Time in Part 1:
“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips.
You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still on the Wyoming University campus after your last class.
Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.
“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.
▶️ Keep Reading: Part 1
Ko-Fi Me ☕
Russell Shaw Masterlist
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#A Line and a Half#russell shaw#tracker#russell shaw x reader#russell shaw x female reader#russell shaw x you#russell shaw fanfiction#russell shaw fanfic#dory shaw#colter shaw#jensen ackles#jensen ackles characters#tracker fanfiction#tracker cbs#russell shaw series#tracker series#zepskies writes
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Pairing: Russell Shaw xf!reader, Reader POV
Summary: The last thing that you wanted was to be woken up in the middle of the night by Colter Shaw for a favor, but when he shows up toting a ruggedly handsome man with green eyes you decide to forgive him. Reader is the niece of Velma and Teddi!
Word Count: 10.3K
Warnings: I'm gonna label this one 18+ just in case I missed anything. Blood, Cleaning Out A Wound, Mentions of Allergies? Gunshots, Some Cursing, A Bit of Sexual Innuendo, Sexual fantasy/reader has active imagination, Self-deprecating Thoughts/Body Issues (reader), Mentions of Infidelity, Reader Is A Single Mom, Appearance Of Creepy-Jerk Ex Husband, Probably a Poor Description Of What It’s Like To Be A Single Mom (I tried my best, please I do not mean to offend anyone❤️), Russell Shaw might be a little bit OOC. Reader is occasionally described as "curvy."
Song Inspiration: Long As I Can See The Light By Creedence Clearwater Revival
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n if any. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite! This is my first time writing for Russell Shaw, so, please be gentle. 😅
Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.
Main Masterlist
A/N: I finally watched Tracker… Could you tell? 😂
Sunday nights, in your opinion, were the worst.
It was like the last few moments of freedom before you were thrust into a busy work week, like the last few rays of light before the coming darkness that you barely survived with copious amounts of coffee and bloodied fingertips. Monday always loomed, but never as much as on Sunday nights.
The dull thud of your phone vibrating against your wooden bedside table grates on your ears and pulls you from the sweet precipice of sleep before you can fall into the void.
It felt as if you’d just collapsed into your bed and one look at the alarm clock on your bedside table as you blinked your bleary eyes confirmed it. It was 3:58 am, which meant you had been in bed for exactly three minutes.
You were still covered in chocolate cupcake batter, pink frosting, and rainbow sprinkles from the last six hours you'd spent in the kitchen making gluten free, sugar free, and peanut free cupcakes for a bake sale at your son’s school.
Even though you hadn't volunteered Stephanie Jacobson, or rather the wicked witch of the PTA, had cornered you in the pick-up line on Friday afternoon to remind you of your "duties as a parent" and the coming bake sale to support the building of the new gym. And then she’d handed you a list of student allergies and asked you to create something that was safe for everyone.
Taste be damned.
Why the school needed a new gym you didn't know, but the guilt that rose when Stephanie mentioned your "duties as a parent" was enough to make you say yes to whatever she asked you.
You had enough guilt already about raising your kids without a stable father figure, and the last thing you needed was guilt from a stuck up bitch in the PTA.
Stephanie reminded you of the girls in high school that used to pick at their food, the ones that knew exactly what to say to make you feel like a freak, the ones who dated the football players and spent their Friday nights wearing cheerleading uniforms and waving pom poms, and the ones who basically made everyone else's life a living hell.
Everything about her screamed superior. The flawless way she curled her perfect platinum blonde hair, the stylish clothes she wore than never seemed to have a wrinkle or a mashed carrot smeared on the pants, the supple breasts that she swore were real, a perfectly toned stomach that never seemed to change despite her having a child two months ago, and the easy way she handled all of her three children with a flourish of her left hand that housed a 6 karat diamond ring from her gorgeous husband that was so attentive, perfect, and rich that it made you feel sick to your stomach.
All of which anyone could read on her mommy blog that she'd dubbed "Little Mistakes Make Perfect Lessons," and the same blog that she'd created an empire from.
Fuck, you hated her.
Mostly because despite everything you tried you never had enough time in the day to look as flawless as she did.
Your hair never seemed to be as bouncy or perfectly styled, you never had time to put makeup on, you always had mashed carrot on your pants or some form of cheerio or baby food, as many times as you tried to carve out time for the gym you never seemed to make it, the small ring you'd once wore on your finger was sitting idle in your jewelry box upstairs where it had been for the past year after your husband of six years told you that he met someone else, and your stomach and your breasts… you didn't want to think about that right now.
You had two kids and you weren't going to pretend that it did nothing to your body, any part of your body. And as many times as you saw all the other mothers around you who were proud of the way they looked, you never had their confidence, especially not after the comments that your ex-husband had made each time the two of you finally had some time to be alone together.
But that wasn't to say you hated being a mom, you loved it, wouldn't change it for the world. It was just sometimes you wished you had a little help, that, and you wished that Mondays didn't exist.
You groan as you reach for the phone that still vibrates desperately on your bedside table and flip it over to see who's calling before you answer it.
"Colter, why the hell are you calling me at four am?" You half moan, pulling the comforter up over your head as if that'll make Monday go away.
You'd been close to murder several times, first when you found your husband in your bed with his nineteen year-old secretary, second when your local coffee shop was out of espresso and you did your entire shift at the hospital with no coffee, and Colter Shaw waking you up at almost four in the morning was quickly becoming number three.
"Because I didn't want to wake up Emma or Luke. Can you open the door?" He replies, stating the names of your children, sounding slightly out of breath.
"What door?" You groan again, eyes still shut wishing that this was just a bad dream and Colter wasn't calling you because he needed your help… again.
"The front door. Please, I need you to let me in."
"Why are you here? Couldn't it wait until tomorrow? Did you try to call Teddi or Vel-"
"I'll explain when you come open the door."
"By doing that I'd have to get up."
"Please."
You hesitate. Colter didn't usually say please, let alone twice whenever he showed up needing your help.
You'd met him by accident.
Sure your Aunt Teddi had talked about the "rewardist" that she and your Aunt Velma worked with, but you hadn't been expecting to ever meet him. But when Colter got shot on a job and showed up at Teddi and Velma's home you'd helped patch him up. You'd been there picking up your six year old son Luke and your three year old daughter Emma, after work. Teddi and Velma watched them for you when your deadbeat ex Lance couldn't be bothered to give you the support you needed.
Which was all the time despite his continuous arguing that he was in their lives enough and if anything it was your fault that he didn't have more time with them.
Each time he said that it made you want to slam his head in the door of his brand new bright red BMW, the one he'd bought right after you found him in your bedroom plowing his secretary now girlfriend Crystal. Or as you liked to remember her, the girl who still believed that Santa Clause existed and that the U.S government was hiding him from the world.
But Colter had been hurt and it was just fate that you were there at your aunts home to pick up your kids.
Being an ER nurse meant that you knew how to patch Colter up and it wasn't long before he went on his way. That was about four months ago and since then you'd talked to him occasionally when he'd pop by at your aunts home or just to see if you could help him with something.
"Five minutes." You sigh.
This time you crawl out of bed, standing just to the side of it for a second shaking your head to clear the sleep, and grab the long sleeved blue colored duster/robe that was hanging on the back of your bedroom door. Navigating your way down the stairs in the dark as quietly as you can, while half asleep was difficult, but somehow you avoid falling to your death.
Unfortunate, because now you have to go see what Colter wants at freaking 4 am.
The second story home had been you ex-husband's idea, stated that the two of you needed "room to grow" and that the two of you were "investing in your future."
You frown at the thought.
Yeah, room to grow right into your fucking secretary.
As if you needed another blow to your self esteem, but looking at the skinny red-haired goddess that he'd traded you in for that was about as dumb as a rock had been enough to send you so low you might as well be navigating the Marianas Trench in a submarine with a Megalodon chasing after you.
Maybe that means I'd get to be with Jason Stratham.
That thought was welcome. Honestly the thought of any man was a comfort, especially in the dry spell you'd been having since -well- since you'd had Emma three years ago.
Not gonna think about that right now.
The smell of chocolate cupcakes hung heavy in the air as you crossed through the messy living room, wafting out through the open concept kitchen into the space. One look into the kitchen would show enough cupcakes to make anyone salivate, and yes maybe you'd eaten a few before going up to bed, but eating the chocolate didn't count if it was on Sunday night and you could always go to the gym tomorrow…
Yeah. Like that'll happen.
You open the front door. "Alright, somebody better be dying Colter or I swear that I'll-" You stop mid-sentence when you take in the scene on your porch.
Colter is standing there, looking worse for wear. His usual black jacket is gone, he's got a black eye and a scrape along one of his perfect cheekbones, but that's not who you're looking at.
Colter isn't alone.
There's a man leaning heavily on Colter, his muscular right arm is thrown across Colter's shoulders and due to the fact that the man is a little bigger than Colter, he's buckling slightly under his weight. The man is wearing a green army jacket that is soaked around his left shoulder in blood, his dark hair is falling long into his bearded face, and his skin is a few shades paler than it should be. But that doesn't make him any less handsome.
The man still manages to throw you a sly grin, brilliant green eyes shining beneath the strands of his dark hair. "I think you got your wish sweetheart."
"You're not dying Russell." Colter sighs as if he's annoyed. "Hi." He directs at you.
You do feel a little bit bad about saying that now, but you shake it off.
"What the hell happened?" You say as loud as you dare and pull the front door further open so Colter can drag the man, now named "Russell" into your home.
"Shoot out." Colter breathes. "Where do you want him?"
"Kitchen table." You say trying to reach for Russell's left arm to help Colter, but he groans low under his breath and you retract your hand.
"You've got to be a little gentle with me sweetheart." Russell laughs more to himself, but it comes out in a choked sound. "But you can have me wherever you want."
"Colter, he needs to go to the hospital." You say, following behind them, keeping your voice down. "I don't think that I can-"
"Can't, they'll report it. They have to report all gunshots, you know that." Colter grunts, helping Russell lay back on the large kitchen table. "Why are there so many cupcakes in here?"
"Bake sale at Luke’s school." You clip while waving a hand and looking down at Russell who is laying on the kitchen table.
You can't deny that he's attractive, even in this condition. Russell has the perfect ruggedly handsome features that would make the smartest girl stupid and combined with the piercing green eyes that shine beneath the hair that's fallen forward into his face, even you could see yourself being susceptible to his charm.
Fuck.
Deep down you know that Colter is right, that if he did go to the hospital they'd be required to report it and that meant police and an official report. You figured that it was the last thing that Colter wanted.
Then again the guy has so many marks on his record already. You eye the man on your kitchen table. Russell kinda looks like he would have a few marks too.
"Don't want who did this to find him." Colter clarifies.
"So instead you brought him to my house where my children are?" You cross your arms over your chest.
The fear that whatever Colter and Russell had stumbled upon following behind them to your home made a cold trickle of fear race down your spine.
"We weren't followed." Colter soothes. "I promise I'd never do that to you. And I've got Bobby doing a trace to make sure they don't come close."
He actually looks a little hurt that you'd think that of him. Colter was a lot of things, but uncaring was not one of them.
You relax, but don't apologize despite the guilt swimming in your gut. "Fine. Give me a second." You leave the room to find the first aid kit in the hall closet, the same one that you'd made for your aunts to keep at their house if Colter showed up in the middle of the night with this exact problem. You'd even been involved enough to show your aunts how to deal with a gunshot wound if you weren't there.
When you get back in the room, Colter is removing Russell's jacket, and Russell grits his teeth when it jostles his left arm.
You set down the kit and reach for the bottom of Russell's shirt to pull it up off him, and he chuckles.
"Aren't you going to buy me a drink first? Better yet we could have a few bottles of my home brew-"
"She's not going to help you, if you annoy her." Colter interrupts.
"I told you that I didn't need anyone's help, I'm perfectly fine- ow!" Russell exclaims when you accidentally yank the shirt over his left arm. "Your bedside manner is a little lacking." He grunts, but his eyes still twinkle with humor.
"Too bad. I'm tired and I've been making chocolate cupcakes for the past six hours, so you get what you get and you don't throw a fit."
"What?" Russell grins at the rhyme that you often tell your children.
You shake your head, and drop your eyes to his chest. There are two perfect circles on his right upper pectoral muscle, but not high enough to reach the collarbone and one in his left bicep where blood seeps around the bullets, but truthfully you're trying not to notice how perfectly muscular he is. There are dark splashes of tattoos against his skin, swirling around other scars that resemble slashes and bullet wounds that you wish to drag your fingertips across to study each mark, to memorize each one beneath the soft pads of your fingers.
How is he just as beautiful covered in blood?
You clear your throat to focus back at the task at hand, examining the current wounds. "Okay. The good news is that the one on your arm is through and through, but these two," Your hand hovers over the two on his right upper chest. "I've got to extract the bullets. Which means that this is going to hurt."
"Been through worse sweetheart."
Your eyes scan the rest of his scarred muscular chest thoughtfully. "Yeah, you have." You murmur it more to yourself than to Russell, but he still grins.
Colter's phone rings shrilly in the kitchen and he groans. "One second. Try not to make her want to kill you Rus."
"No promises little bro."
Oh, so this is Colter's brother.
You'd heard little bits and pieces about Colter's brother, mostly second hand from your Aunt Velma. One of the best things about going over to Teddi and her home was sitting in the living room and hearing Velma gossip about everything she heard from Teddi while drinking wine and eating fancy cheese that you could never afford.
Russell Shaw was no exception.
"Alone at last." Russell says with a wink. "I didn't think he'd ever leave."
"I'm going to get some water to clean these with." You reply, ignoring him, but when you turn away the end of your mouth quirks up into a smile.
He wasn't what you were expecting based on all the rumors that you'd heard from both of your aunts, in fact, you thought he was kind of charming.
You roll up your sleeves and wash your hands before turning back to Russell. He's sitting up on your kitchen table, hands braced on his sides, with his legs spread wide apart. He doesn’t look like someone with three gunshot wounds, and you wonder if this is a regular day for him. Colter certainly didn't get shot that much.
"So are you a rewardist too?" You ask standing between his legs and trying not to focus on the warmth of his breath against your collar bone.
"Naw. I work for a private security contractor." He breezes.
"Oh." You swallow, looking up into his green eyes for a minute. They're even more beautiful up close, green with flecks of gold around the iris that flicker in the light like stars. "Is it okay if I touch you?"
"You don't gotta ask me that sweetheart, the answer will always be yes."
You flush and brace your hand on his left shoulder, before pouring water into the two wounds on the right side of his chest, trying to clean them the best you can before you extract what's left of the bullets. His skin is warm and smooth beneath the palm of your hand and it's difficult to focus.
Just pretend you're in the hospital and you're treating a patient. You take in a shallow breath. He's just a patient and he's not that good looking.
You know you're lying to yourself, but you were trying your best. It probably didn’t help given the current dry spell you were in or the fact that he even smelled good. Something like gunpowder, leather, and a hint of something spicy that you bet was his shampoo. It prickled under your nose, and activated something in the back of your mind that was having a hard time being quiet. You hadn't been this close to a man you found attractive in a long time.
"Okay. This is going to hurt." You say as you look through the small medical kit that you'd grabbed from the hall closet for the tweezers, trying to calm the thudding of your heart.
"It's okay." Russell replies. "Do what you have to baby. I won't stop you."
You weren't prepared for the warmth that bloomed in the pit of your stomach when he called you baby in the wonderfully rough rumble of his voice.
A voice like that could convince me to jump into a pit filled with alligators with no regrets. Fuck. I'd bet that a voice like that could make me- FOCUS. I will focus. He is Colter's brother and he just got shot. He doesn't need you lusting over him.
Extracting the bullets is as painful for you as it is for him. Watching the way his face scrunches up in pain hurts you more than you thought it would. His hands grip the rim of the wooden kitchen table so hard that they're turning white, and Russell's jaw is clenched so tight that you're afraid that it's going to snap.
You squeeze his left shoulder to give him some comfort. "Almost done." You murmur, searching for the second bullet.
Russell lets out a breath when you finally fish out the other bullet and drop it into an empty cup with a resounding "ping" just as Colter walks back into the room looking worried.
"What?" Russell asks him, looking over your head at his brother.
"That was Bobby. He said that the trace we put on the phone just got a hit a few miles north of here." Colter states. "I'm gonna go check it out."
"Alright, I'll come with." Russell starts to get up, but you push him back with your right hand that you've still got pressed against his left shoulder. Difficult given the fact that he was almost twice the size of you and broader than anyone you'd ever seen. And also difficult because of the way you were trying to ignore how good it felt to feel the pull of his muscles beneath your hand.
"No. You still need stitches and I haven't finished patching you up." You clear your throat, but it still sounds a little hoarse.
"Baby as much as I like you ordering me around-“
"It's alright Russell, I've got this. Just stay here and let her take care of you." Colter interrupts.
Russell frowns at his younger brother. "I'm fine."
"You're not." Colter rolls his eyes. "Stay here. I'll be back in a few hours to pick you up." He turns to look at you. "I'm sorry that we woke you up-"
"It's okay." You shrug. "But you owe me."
"Just add it to my bill." Colter smirks.
Honestly, you weren't as angry as you were when you answered the phone. Something about Russell was different and you didn’t mind helping him at all.
He wasn't like anyone that you had ever met, certainly not in the circles you ran with.
All the dads from your mom friends were blue and white collar workers who worked in the big office buildings downtown, wore suits to work and were more straight-laced, but there was something refreshing about Russell.
He was mysterious, sexy, and his had this aura of self-resilience and survival that you found immensely attractive. Especially when compared to your ex, who couldn't survive without his mocha-caramel double shot latte or wifi.
Russell was the exact opposite of him and you found yourself wanting to know more. More about the almost beautiful scars that curved over his muscular body, more about each tattoo that he’d chosen, and more about him.
He seemed like the kind of guy that hid his trauma under easy smiles and jokes, the kind of person that shrugged off anything that seemed remotely serious with a well placed joke, but you could feel that there was something deeper beneath that he didn’t allow many to see.
And you wanted him to show you.
You weren't sure where any of this was coming from. Russell probably was about as stable and consistent as his brother, and you liked consistency. Spontaneity and surprises tended to make you anxious. But not with Russell.
Though the stability might have been an issue. You were a single working mother, which meant that you didn't want to introduce some random guy into your children's life just to have them get attached and him to bail with no strings attached and-
Calm down. You just met the guy, it's not like he's asking you out on a date.
When Colter leaves and after you’ve cleaned around the wounds the best you can with some alcohol, you realize just how quiet it is in your kitchen.
“You know, I think I’ve seen you before.” Russell says breaking the silence while you search for a needle and thread in the medical kit.
“Really? Where?" You ask looking up.
“In my dreams.”
“Wow." You smile at him. "That line is pretty cheesy."
You shift your right hand over to begin to sew up the wounds on his chest. Russell doesn't even wince when you push the needle through, almost as if he didn't notice it at all.
It made sense, given how many scars and tattoos covered his body. You remember what he said about "being through worse" and it made you feel bad for him, to worry about him. Odd given the fact that the two of you had just met.
"Well I'm a little distracted at the moment sweetheart. It's not often that I get such a beautiful woman to take care of me."
"I thought you didn't need my help?" You smirk.
"Maybe I did." He admits sheepishly.
"Mhmm."
"So how do you know my brother?"
“Why?”
“Trying to see if you’re off limits or not.” Russell tilts his head to the side and flashes a charming smile.
You laugh at his boldness. You’d never met someone so upfront before, it was refreshing. Most of the men you’d meet occasionally at work tended to beat around the bush and made you want to give them a map to get to the point. "We met when he got shot a few months ago."
"Oh so the two of you aren't-" He wiggles his eyebrows and you snort.
"No."
"Huh."
"What?"
"I was just wondering why not?"
"What?"
"Well, you're gorgeous, you're smart, and you're not scared of blood or gunshots. Colter really seems to be dropping the ball."
"Colter doesn't exactly have a stable lifestyle. And I'm kind of complicated."
You were, there wasn't any way around it.
"Why do you think that?"
"Because I've got two kids."
Russell blinks in surprise. "Really?"
"Mhmm." You hum continuing your task, not phased by the blood at all.
His eyes trace your figure for a minute, making a shiver travel down your spine. It was the first time in a long time that you were okay with someone looking at you like that and to be honest, the first time that you wanted someone to look at you like that in a while.
After everything that happened with your ex-husband and his secretary you were more inclined to sit on your couch with a glass of wine and read away your troubles with a steamy romance novel that did more for you than any of your ex-husband's attempts to satisfy you. It also didn't help that you had no interest in going out with your few friends and meeting someone at a club who probably would never call you again and probably wouldn't be as enthusiastic to learn that you were a mom.
You'd only been on one date since you'd broken it off with your husband with your aunts accountant Jerry, and the date stuttered to a halt when he learned you had two children and weren't interested in having an open relationship.
"I wouldn't have guessed that."
“Really? The mountain of chocolate cupcakes wasn’t a clue?” You arch an eyebrow with a smirk, while gently tying off the string to close the first wound before moving on to the second.
“I thought you just really liked baking. And I’m okay with coming home every night to a mountain of chocolate cupcakes if it means you’re there too.” He winks.
“Not sure you want any of those.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because they’re gluten free, sugar free, and nut free.”
The horrified look on Russell’s face makes you feel like you’d just told him that hot dogs do in fact contain trace amounts of dog.
“Why on earth would you make them like that?! They're not even cupcakes anymore!" He exclaims.
You found it funny that he seemed more upset over the mutilation of the chocolate cupcakes than over being shot.
Maybe he's always like this?
"I know. I'm a monster." You sigh. "But Stephanie Jacobson said I had to." You let out a frustrated sigh with her name.
Bringing anything other than what she asked for was a suicide mission. The last person who did that was Gale Smith in the great Fourth of July Cook-out calamity of 2021. In Gale's defense, no one though that the bushes would catch fire so fast, but Stephanie had a memory like an elephant so Gale decided to transfer her children to the school one town over. The last thing you wanted was for your name to go down in history for the Cupcake Catastrophe of 2024.
Russell leans forward and lowers his voice like it's a secret. “Is Stephanie your imaginary friend?”
“No!” You laugh. “She’s this other mom at my son’s school who said I wasn’t living up to my ‘duties as a parent’ and that I needed to ‘participate.’”
"She sounds great."
"Oh yeah, we're practically best friends." You continue to work on the other wounds in the silence that follows.
"I bet you're a good mom." Russell says watching you with an unreadable expression. He's leaning a little bit towards you still, making the smell gunmetal, leather, spice, and just a hint of mint come through the space between the two of you.
Damn he smells really good.
"Uh-huh. You've known me for ten minutes and you haven't seen me with my children-"
"I can tell."
"Is that your superpower or something?" You reach for a bandage to lay over the wound in his chest smiling to yourself. "All the other useful superpowers like being bulletproof got taken?"
"I don't think it's useless if it makes you smile like that when I say it, sweetheart."
Your eyes flick upwards to Russell's face. His green eyes are shining in the light of your kitchen, his dark hair still hanging over his forehead, and he is still just as ridiculously handsome as he was the moment Colter dragged him through your front door. You don’t remember why you were so mad at Colter anymore.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're too smooth for your own good?" You raise your eyebrow.
"No ma'am." Russell cracks an even wider smile and it makes you loose all feeling in your legs. He was just so effortlessly handsome that it made you want to do something stupid, like have sex with him on top of the same kitchen table that you serve blueberry pancakes to your children.
"Hmm." You bite the inside of your cheek. "Well, now you know and maybe now that you're aware, it could prevent you from getting shot."
"Are you saying I got shot because I'm too smooth?"
"Maybe."
"Because usually it has a different effect."
"Huh. Well in that case, maybe try using some of that to smooth things over and you'd avoid getting shot." You begin to wrap another fresh bandage around the bullet wound on his arm, bracing your free hand against his chest, trying to ignore the way his skin is warm and chiseled beneath your palm.
He had the kind of body that you'd never imagined actually existed. Russell Shaw looked like he walked out one of the romance novels you loved so much.
Hell, they should use pictures of him to make the book covers.
"I'll remember that next time." Russell pauses. "But then it means I wouldn’t get shot and I wouldn't get to have you patch me up."
"I guess not."
You didn't think that you'd smiled as much as you had in the past twenty minutes with him than you had your entire five year marriage. Not to mention that it was nice to talk to someone who wasn't trying to convince you why they should be allowed to have a cookie before dinner.
A charged silence passes through the air between the two of you, his eyes locked on yours sending goosebumps over your skin. You weren't sure if anyone had ever looked at you like that before. You'd noticed that most gave you the obligatory skate over, but Russell didn't. He looked at you as if he was studying you as if he were genuinely curious to know more.
Your eyes trace his broad shoulders, toned abdomen, and muscular arms, noting that he's the kind of strong and broad that was made to handle someone a little more curvy like you. And you'd be lying if you said that you hadn't thought about it more than once since Russell came through your front door.
You felt your mind sink into the fantasy of Russell pining you to the kitchen table and feeling the warmth of his rough hands against your body-
Snap out of it. The guy is bleeding, he got shot. He needs to rest.
"I think you'll survive." You smile pulling back from him to clear your head. It was much easier when you couldn't smell him as strongly. "And if Colter isn't going to be back for a few hours you can crash on the couch. It's not the most comfortable but-"
"I'm sure it's fine." Russell shrugs and stands from your kitchen table.
You try and fail to ignore how his muscles pull with the movement as he reaches for his shirt and you step forward to help him put it on, knowing that it might hurt with his injury. "Okay." You clear your throat, that has become thick all of a sudden. "And if you're hungry I've got plenty of cupcakes-"
"Please don't call them that. They're an disgrace to the cupcake name."
"Yeah, but the ones in the microwave are actually cupcakes. I had to make a few that were edible." You gesture with your hand and laugh at how quickly Russell goes to get one.
He doesn’t even bother to pull away the wrapping before he takes a bite and he audibly moans. Russell looks at you awestruck. "Holy shit, you made this? Where have you been all my life?"
"Shut up." You roll your eyes at him.
"I'm serious, this cupcake is my reason to keep living. Here I thought putting sriracha on French fries was the height of cuisine, but damn."
You could feel yourself blush bright red at his compliment. You weren't used to a man going out of his way to compliment you on something other than how you looked, but everything about Russell Shaw was refreshing and nothing like you expected.
"Thank you." You wait another second, watching him eat more of the cupcake and smash icing and flecks of chocolate over his chin. You laugh at him and hand him a paper towel. "You're worse than my three year old."
"Your three year old is a lucky kid, if she’s got a mom like you to make stuff like this for her."
It's like he wants me to fall in love with him. How can someone look so unbelievably cute and sexy while covered in chocolate cupcake?
Don't answer that.
"Sometimes I think I'm the lucky one. I love my kids-" You say before you can stop yourself. You hesitate afraid that it would send Russell for the hills when you brought up the fact that you loved your children.
"Yeah?" Russell's smile brightens as he wipes his face with the napkin.
"Yeah." You blink mildly shocked. Of all the people in the world to talk about your children with, you never expected someone like Russell Shaw. “I do."
Again he was surprising you, and talking to him was just so refreshing and it made you feel like your head had finally cleared, like your chest was lighter and you could actually talk to someone for real without putting out this together image of yourself you thought you had to when inside you were crumbling from the overbearing expectations of the people around you.
The silence is back, filling the kitchen with a palpable energy that you wonder if Russell can feel, but you shake it off.
"I guess I'll see you in the morning. It was nice to meet you Russell, but I'm sorry that you got shot." You smile.
"I'm not." Russell smiles. "I got to meet you."
"Alright Casanova, I need to go to bed, because my kids will wake me up in about two hours." You frown over at the couch. "There's a pillow and a blanket down the hall in the bathroom closet." You gesture with one hand. "I'll see you in the morning." You repeat because you're not too sure what to say.
"Yeah. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
You turn and walk up the stairs to your bedroom, feeling the thin blue robe swishing around your ankles as you do.
And as you fall into your bed all you can think about as you start to drift is the ruggedly handsome man downstairs, with the brilliant green eyes that crinkle with his smile, and the large hands rough from hard work, that seems to be more than what meets the eye.
The alarm clock on your bedside table might as well be employed by the devil for waking you up and the idea of smashing it to bits with the heavy metal table lamp that sits beside it crosses your mind. You weren't sure how many hours you'd gotten in, only that they weren't enough, and you were in desperate need of coffee.
You roll over on your back, looking up at your ceiling as you blink your eyes open, following the familiar sweeps of the paint brush that were left behind.
The memory of the night's events come back in full color and you stiffen remembering exactly why you'd gone to bed so late. Images of last night flash through your mind. Colter dragging a bloodied Russell through your front door, Russell sitting on your kitchen table looking much too attractive covered in blood, him flirting with you with a wide smile that made you feel warm from the inside out…
Oh fuck he's still on my couch. How am I going to explain that to my kids?
You dress in a flash and stumble down the stairs as quickly as you can, tripping and falling into the living room, but when you look you realize that Russell isn't on the couch. The pillow and brightly colored quilted blanket he used are neatly folded on one of the plush cushions, but he's nowhere to be found.
I guess Colter came to get him.
You weren't expecting the wave of disappointment that comes with that realization, but as you turn to go back up the stairs to ready yourself for the day, you hear your daughter’s voice.
"Mommy!" She says. "Look! Rus is making pancakes."
What?
You turn to investigate your spacious kitchen. It was still covered in an alarming amount of cupcakes, but that’s not what’s surprising, what’s surprising is Russell, standing at your crowded stove with a spatula in his hand, sliding a perfectly golden brown pancake around in the bottom of a pan.
You blink your eyes to make sure that you’re not imagining it and make sure that you’re not asleep.
"Hey gorgeous." Russell flashes a wide grin. "How'd you sleep?"
"Um-" You glance at where your daughter is sitting with your son, both eating stacks of pancakes at your kitchen table, the same kitchen table that you were fantasizing about Russell and you-
Nope. Not going there.
Honestly, any fantasy you had about him was blown away by the sight of him standing in your kitchen making pancakes for your children. Something so domestically wonderful that turned you on even more than the image of him shirtless sitting on your kitchen table.
This was something even your husband refused to do, cook. Any day that you tried to get him to, he'd said that it was your "job." And here Russell was standing in your kitchen looking even more effortlessly gorgeous cooking for your family without being asked.
"I sleep good. How did you sleep?" You ask taking a hesitant step towards him.
"Good. Better than I have in a bit actually." He turns back to the pan and flicks his wrist, flipping the pancake inside.
Emma claps happily and Luke watches Russell with a look of absolute awe on his face, while you try not to have impure thoughts about Russell in front of your children.
"You didn't have to make breakfast-"
"I did." He plates the pancake and holds it out to you. "I wanted to thank you for patching me up."
"It wasn't a big deal." You shrug, but take the pancake from the plate, rolling it up like a taco before you take a bite.
Russell cocks his head to the side studying you for a moment. "It was to me." His green eyes are just as hypnotic today as they were last night, tracing over your body in a way that makes pins and needles tickle over your skin. "Plus, wanted to make the kids something that wasn't gluten free, nut free, and sugar free. Emma sure can put away some pancakes."
It was odd to see someone so eager to make himself comfortable in your house, especially a man you barely knew and who you owed absolutely nothing to. Not to mention that Russell genuinely seemed happy to be making breakfast for your children as if he belonged there.
It was so different from every other man that you'd ever met, and you wanted to get used to it. You wanted to get used to having a man around again, to having Russell in your home and in your life. You'd never been spontaneous or wanted to jump headfirst without looking at the pros and cons, but watching Russell standing at your stove, with the sunlight coming through the windows behind him and illuminating his broad shoulders and sifting through his dark hair, you saw absolutely no downside.
"Yeah she's always had a good appetite."
"Hope she doesn't lose that. I hate it when women don't eat." Russell shrugs his shoulders and goes back to make a pancake for himself. "Plus Luke needs to bulk up. He said his dad is going to sign him up for baseball."
You stiffen at the mention of your ex, not sure if you should supply the information, or if you should let it slide. Russell's eyes flick down at your left hand for a half-second, so quickly you could have missed it, but you understood what he was doing.
"He's my ex-husband." You murmur low enough so only Russell could hear.
"Good." Russell replies with a knowing smirk. "Means that I don’t have any competition."
You roll your eyes at his reaction and walk over to where your children are eating. Luke is covered in maple syrup as per usual. He had always been a messy eater, but because he insisted on having his hair cropped short, it never seemed to be too much of a problem.
Just as Emma looks like your ex-husband, Lance, Luke looks like you. He has the same eyes and same colored hair, but he'd always been a little short for his age. Lance usually picked at him for that, but you didn't know what Lance was expecting, Luke was six years old, he'd grow!
"Good pancakes?" You ask, trying to wipe at his face with a napkin but he pulls away with an exclaimed "Mom!"
"What? You're covered in syrup." You laugh, raising the napkin again, but Luke dodges your hand.
"Mom!" Luke says again.
"Alright, fine. But go get dressed, your dad will be here to pick you up any minute." You say, urging him with a hand against his shoulder.
Today Lance was taking Luke to school and picking him up after for a baseball game, before staying with him at his apartment. You’d told your Aunt Teddi and your Aunt Velma that you'd help them plant a garden today, and Emma had been looking forward to it as much as you had.
Velma had been talking about it all through last week, and you’d gotten the day off specifically off for it. Emma was also excited about it because Teddi had bought flowers specifically for butterflies and your daughter loved them more than life itself.
You were looking forward to working out in the sun, feeling the healing rays against your skin, listening to the sounds of the world outside your aunts familiar home soothe you, play with the dogs for a little bit, and finally go inside for a few glasses of wine while Velma, Teddi, and you talked about the book of the month. Book club nights were especially special for Emma as well. Velma always poured Emma's apple juice into a plastic pink wine glass that she'd bought for Emma so she could feel included.
This book had been really good and you couldn't wait to share what you'd thought while eating expensive cheese and cupcakes and while the dogs circled below like raptors.
You loved being at their home. It was always such a comfort to be somewhere where you felt that you could be yourself especially after Lance left you. Your mother had died when you were a kid and your dad had never been equipped to handle things like that so your Aunt Teddi had picked up the slack in your early years and now after she'd married Velma, you had another person in your life who supported you and made you feel like you could be yourself. Both of them had been furious when they learned about what Lance had done and sat with you while you cried into a box of tissues.
It had been difficult to talk them both out of killing Lance. Surprising since your Aunt Teddi was usually the voice of reason.
Luke sighs, but listens to you, getting up from the table to make his way upstairs. You can hear his footsteps as he walks down the hallway above and into his room.
Despite his reluctance, he was looking forward to today as well. Sometimes you thought that he felt left out when you all went over to your aunts house. You knew that Luke longed for the attention of his father, and something broke inside of you each time your ex-husband made him feel forgotten.
You turn to look at your daughter. "Good pancakes?"
"Yes!"
"Did you tell Russell thank you?"
"Thank you Rus!" She sing-songs with a wide smile, before moving her plastic fork back into the pile enthusiastically.
"You're welcome sweetheart." Russell says from the stove, picking up the pancake in the skillet bare handed before he puts a generous stripe of maple syrup along the inside and rolls it up just like you did. "Do you want another one?" His gaze turns to you, warm and open.
Fuck, why is he so damn attractive?
"No I'm-"
The knock on the front door interupts your answer signifying the arrival of Lance. When he'd moved out of the house you'd changed all the locks and then refused to give him a key. Something that he'd pouted and stomped about worse than your toddler, but you'd held firm. You didn't want him in your house and you definitely didn't want her in your house either.
"Daddy!" Emma squeals and before you can stop her, she leaps from her chair like she'd been shot from a cannon and runs down the front hallway to open the door for your ex.
You sigh out a breath to prepare yourself for what comes next. Talking to Lance was always tense and as much as you tried to be civil, Lance didn't. He didn't pull punches, and often lacked the common decency that everyone else had.
Russell's studying you again, his easy smile slipping into a frown when he notes the change in your attitude.
"Stay here. This shouldn't take long." You force a smile, but it lacks the enthusiasm you’d had whenever you talked to Russell before.
Sometimes just the thought of your ex took the energy out of you, as if you were on a space ship and all the air got sucked out into the cold silent vacuum.
Lance is standing on the front step hugging your daughter with one hand while the other holds his phone behind her head, his gaze intently on the screen while Emma chatters in his ear. He's not paying attention though. He never was and never did.
His black hair is slicked back over his head and cropped shorter than the last time you saw him. Now it barely touches his collar but hangs long over the top of his head. His brown eyes glint an amber in the light of the sun, and he’s wearing a tailored blue suit with a dark patterned tie.
“Hey.” Lance clips to you as he stands, releasing Emma who is still trying to talk to him, but he ignores her.
You grind your teeth together. “Hi.”
He sighs audibly sensing the tension, as if it’s you that’s done something wrong.
“Emma, why don’t you go finish your pancakes?” You smile down at your daughter and pat her on the head. “We’ve got to go soon.”
“Okay! Bye daddy!”
“That’s nice honey.” He says absentmindedly, still typing furiously on his phone, while Emma rushes back down the hallway and into the kitchen, that is hidden from view of the front door.
“You know you could put the phone down for once. The world won’t implode if you wait a few seconds to answer a text.” You say.
“Don’t start.” Lance rolls his eyes.
The BMW idling at the curb catches in the early morning sunlight and you see a flash of red-hair. Crystal is in the passenger seat, her auburn hair piled on top of her head effortlessly, her lips painted a dark colored red, there’s a pair of heart shaped sunglasses over her eyes, and she’s wearing black dress low cut enough that her ample breasts spill out through the wide V.
She peers at you from where she sits in the car, her phone perched in her lap, and you watch her dark colored lips twitch into a knowing smirk when she catches you looking at her.
Each time you saw her was like taking a punch to the gut. It made you pull your oversized sweater a little tighter over your chest self-consciously.
“I’m not starting anything. I’m just saying that you should pay more attention to-“ You begin, but Lance interrupts.
“I don’t want to do this with you. I have a deposition due today and I have to finish sending this email.” He snaps.
“Fine.” You sigh, trying to remain calm. You hated when he did this, when he made it seem like no one and nothing else was important except his job. “Luke is getting ready. I have to box up these cupcakes for a bake sale at the school. All you have to do is drop them off and tell-“
“Oh sorry babe. Can’t do the thing today.”
You bristled when he called you babe. You weren't his, not after everything the two of you had been through.
“What do you mean you can’t do the ‘thing’ today?” You plant your hands on your hips trying to comprehend what he's saying.
“With the kid. Sorry. Crystal made plans for us at some fancy restaurant or whatever. Supposed to be the best in the city-“
“What?”
“I can’t take the kid today.” He repeats slowly, this time looking up, but he doesn’t bother to apologize, and his gaze barely meets yours before he drops his eyes back to the hand clutched in his perfectly manicured fingers.
“But you promised Luke that you were going to take him to a baseball game today after school. That he was going to get to spend the night with you and-“
“Sorry.” The apology isn’t sincere and you know it, despite Lance’s attempts to drop his smile into a sympathetic frown. It comes across as more condescending.
Crystal honks the horn of the car as if to tell Lance to hurry up, and it takes a very large amount of effort for you not to flip her the bird.
“No. Luke has been looking forward to this all week! Not to mention I had to ask off for today specifically-“
“And I’ll apologize to him too.” Lance goes back to typing something on his phone. “This dinner means a lot to Crystal-“
“I don’t give two shits what means a lot to that red-haired bimbo!” You snap, the rage and frustration building in your chest. “You made a promise to your son to take him to a baseball game and actually spend time with him and that’s exactly what you’re going to do!”
Lance looks up from his phone, his eyes narrowing. “You always fucking do this.”
“Do what?”
“Pick a fight.”
“I am not picking a fight Lance. All you’ve done since you’ve shown up here is ignore your daughter and tell me that you’re backing out of the one thing I’ve asked you to do in months!”
“I told you that I have a meeting and a deposition due today! Damn it, what do you want from me? To quit my big job that pays for this house?” He steps forward towering over you. Lance was taller than you, but he had always been lanky and thin, unable to gain too much weight or muscle at a time. “Why do you find the need to make me feel like my life isn’t important?”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t say anything about your life! I’m talking about our son’s life-“ You shout incredulous.
“This is exactly why I got out when I did. Because you always try to control every little thing. You’re so damn OCD that if I did one microscopic thing that wasn’t apart of your ‘special plans’ you’d spontaneously combust! You never just shut your big mouth and let me just fucking live my life! You never let me feel like a man! And Crystal understands-“
“Crystal can’t even understand that pickles were once cucumbers! I doubt she can understand whatever warped reality you’re living in Lance.” You spit. “But I’m sorry that me asking you to be a part of our children’s lives is too much for you. That it’s such a chore for you to make them happy.” The frustrated tears had begun to burn against your eyes.
You didn’t know why you expected anything different. Lance had been doing this since your son was born, putting his career above everything else, working late, schmoozing whoever he could, being so damn selfish that he was willing to throw everything the two of you built together for the woman sitting in the car on the curb watching the two of you go at it with a sick satisfaction.
“Don’t fucking do that!” Lance roars and this time he slams his hand against the door frame so roughly that the glass inside shakes and you flinch. “I don’t know why I even try to talk to you. So why don’t you get your big ass up those stairs and-“
“Is there a problem?” Russell’s voice interrupts whatever Lance was going to say, his body sliding into the space behind you so suddenly that you didn’t hear him walk up.
But it felt good for him to be there, to feel the warmth of his body through the air at your back.
He places his hand on the door to open it up a little wider and to seem a bit more intimidating. Russell is easily taller and broader than Lance.
Lance looks up at him confused, puffing out his chest to look more intimidating. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t use that kind of language around the kids-“ Russell says with a tight lipped smile.
“They’re my fucking kids. Don’t tell me how to talk.” Lance’s gaze flicks to you. “Who the fuck is this?”
“I’m Russell.” He replies before you can. “And if you know what’s good for you I’d take a few steps back from her.” Russell’s large hand gently presses against your waist, a comforting weight that you weren’t expecting, but welcome, nonetheless.
It made you feel a little bit bolder.
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Lance snarls. “Is this your boyfriend? Really? You finally decided to go out with someone and that’s who you pick?”
“Look buddy, if you keep talking to her that way, we’re going to have a problem.” Russell sighs. “And I don’t want to get any blood on your fancy suit.”
“I’m not your buddy. And trust me she’s not worth the fight.” Lance sneers at you, giving you a once over that makes you want to crawl into a hole and die.
Russell’s jaw clenches tight and he takes a step forward, but you hold out your arm to stop him.
“He’s not my boyfriend and even if he was, it’s none of your business who I date!” You snap back.
Lance only shakes his head, ignoring what you’ve said. “I’m serious pal you don’t want to get involved with her. She’s fucking crazy, not to mention nothing special when it comes to se-“
The next words are lost in the sound of Russell’s fist landing against Lance’s face, the sharp crack followed by the inhuman scream of Crystal at the car. Lance stumbles back off the front step clutching a hand to his face while blood streams through his pinched fingers and over his chin.
“I warned you. Now if you keep talking, I'll make your eyes match.” Russell growls, flexing his hand.
I hope he didn’t rip his stitches.
“You son of a bitch.” Lance sputters, his hand still holding his broken nose. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!”
“It’s worth it, if it shuts you up.” He replies unfazed.
Lance’s eyes narrow with hate as he looks at you one more time, before stumbling back to his car where Crystal has begun to wail over the amount of blood coming from his nose. The car squeals down the street and out of sight, leaving Russell and you standing on your front porch. Thankfully Emma was still in the kitchen eating her pancakes and Luke was upstairs, you didn't want either of them to see Russell punch their dad.
But that didn't mean that you wouldn't mind seeing it again.
You groaned when you thought about your son. You didn’t know how on earth you were going to explain to him why his dad wasn’t going to pick him up or take him to the game.
But at the same time there was a sickening amount of pleasure that bubbled beneath the surface at the thought of Russell breaking Lance’s nose.
“Are you okay?” Russell asks turning to look at you. There’s anger still simmering beneath the surface. You’d never seen him angry in all the time he’d stayed with you. All you’d seen was the funny, easy going, guy with the gorgeous smile, but to see him like this and especially to see him angry over what had just happened…
Just when I thought he couldn’t get any more attractive.
“Yeah. I’m sorry-“
“Don’t apologize for that asshole. He shouldn’t have talked to you like that.” Russell hesitates. “Does he always talk to you like that?”
“Pretty much.”
“Damn, should have knocked a few teeth out too. He’s got to learn how to speak to a lady, especially one as beautiful as you.”
You felt your cheeks flush. You couldn’t remember the last time that someone called you beautiful and before you can stop yourself you say:
“I don’t think you’re too bad looking yourself.”
“Oh I know. You couldn’t keep your hands off me last night.” Russell’s grin makes you smile and roll your eyes at him.
Again you’re struck by how charming he is and how kind. He didn’t have to do any of the things he’d done today, but he did anyway. He didn’t have to make breakfast for your children, he didn’t have to step in when your ex-husband got mouthy, and he didn’t have to punch Lance in the face, but Russell had.
He'd done more for you in the past few hours than your husband had done in the six years you'd been married to him.
Behind where Russell's standing, Colter’s truck pulls up to idle on the curb in the same place that the BMW had been sitting moments ago, and you raise a hand in a half-wave to greet him. Colter shoots you a grin and waves back.
“Guess my ride’s here.” Russell says glancing back at his brother over his shoulder before he looks back at you.
“Seems so.” You nod. “Are you sure you don’t want me to check your stitches for you one more time before you go? I mean you probably ripped them when you punched Lance."
“Sounds like you just want to catch another peak of me without my shirt on.” Russell laughs, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Shut up.” You roll your eyes and hit him on the arm.
“Ow.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Maybe.” He’s studying you again, the sunlight turning his hair a honeyed brown and his eyes into a sharp jade. The light catches his broad shoulders and traces along his strong jaw that is covered in a healthy amount of stubble that makes him look rugged and more handsome than any man you’d ever met.
You bite the inside of your cheek. “It was nice to meet you Russell. And again, I'm sorry that you got shot."
Russell shrugs. “It was worth it. I got to meet you and I got to punch that asshole in the face so win-win.”
“You didn’t have to-“
“Yes, I did.” Russell’s jaw tightens. “You didn’t deserve any of the things he was saying about you or about the kids.”
“True.” You hesitate.
Should I ask him for his number or is that too forward?
“I’ll see you around.” Russell smiles at you one more time before making his way to his brother’s car, just as Emma joins you on the front step.
“Did daddy leave?” She sounds sad.
“Yeah. He did.” You take her small hand in yours.
“But why does Russell have to go too?” She whines.
“Because he’s going home.”
You felt a twinge in your chest watching him get into the car, knowing that you probably would never see him ever again. It made you sad to know that. You'd been interested in him and you thought he was interested in you, but he hadn't asked for your number.
Maybe he's flirty and charming with everyone.
You hide the frown that comes with that thought. Emma waves goodbye with her freehand, and Russell smiles from the passenger seat, waving back at your daughter, before he raises his gaze to yours again and winks.
Or maybe not.
When you go back inside the house, Luke is still upstairs, and instead of going up to tell him about his father, you turn to go back into your kitchen to clean up. As you near the stove, you notice a bright green piece of paper under one of the magnets on your refrigerator, fluttering slightly in the air-conditioning.
You pull it down to look.
In case you want some more pancakes or if you bake any more of those life changing cupcakes. Give me a call. -Russell.
His phone number was written under his name, next to a smiley face that made you laugh aloud to yourself.
Sunday nights were the worst, but not this time.
A/N: Alright, I had so much fun with this one! I just had this urge to write Russell with a reader who had children and a trash man ex because why not? And I know I said it would be a one-shot… but my mind is already thinking of all the possibilities lol. Mostly because we all know I can’t really write just a one-shot 😅😂
As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y’all think!
Taglist:
@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester
#jensen ackles#russell shaw#russell shaw fanfiction#russell shaw x you#russell shaw x reader#tracker cbs#tracker#tracker fanfiction#colter shaw#justin hartley#jackles#jensen fucking ackles
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Tuesday’s Gone Masterlist
Russell Shaw x reader
Summary: When the police does little to no help to find your missing daughter, you are forced to contact Colter Shaw. What you don’t expect is how his investigation will reveal secrets about both your past and your daughter’s, in ways you never imagined.
🤍 Chapter 1
🤍 Chapter 2
🤍 Chapter 3
🤍 Chapter 4
🤍 Chapter 5
🤍 Chapter 6
🤍 Chapter 7
🤍 Chapter 8
🤍 Chapter 9
🤍 Chapter 10 coming soon…
#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles#jensen ackles fanfiction#russell shaw fanfiction#russell shaw x you#russell shaw#russell shaw x reader#colter shaw#tracker#tracker fanfiction#tracker cbs#jensen x reader#jensen fucking ackles#masterlist#Tuesday’s Gone#Tuesday’s Gone masterlist
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The plan
Russell Shaw x F/Reader Y/N
Warnings: Age difference not too explicit.
Words: 1650
*Does not follow Tracker’s storyline *
I finally started writing about Russell, it took me a while, but I hope you like it! Let me know what you think!
-- --
Russell is ready to start his ‘retirement plan’ like he used to call it. He saw an old brewery on one of his jobs and went back to speak to the owner, an old man named Frank.
Frank also owns a bar close to the brewery, his granddaughter Y/N works there as a bartender. Russell liked her immediately, realising he had to overcome two impossible tasks. One, to try and win Frank over to buy the brewery, two win Y/N over to go on a date with him.
--
Russell had seen it all. His years working as a mercenary for the Horizon Group had taken him to every corner of the globe, exposing him to the darkest sides of humanity. Now he was ready to leave that life behind and find some semblance of peace.
His plan was simple: buy an old brewery on the outskirts of town and live out his days crafting beer, a craft he had fallen in love with during his travels in Belgium. The brewery he had his mind set on, an aged brick building with ivy creeping up its walls, had been owned and operated by Frank Miller for the past forty years.
Frank was well-known in the community for his craftsmanship and the warmth of his pub, which had become a beloved local spot for ex marines. However, convincing Frank to sell was proving to be more challenging than Russell had anticipated.
It was late afternoon when Russell stepped into the pub, the scent of malt and hops mingling with the aged wood of the bar. The place was cozy, filled with the hum of low conversations and the clinking of glasses.
As he approached the bar, he caught sight of a younger woman, her eyes sparkling with life, her movements graceful and assured as she served a group of regulars. She could easily be 10 to 15 years younger than him, a striking contrast to the pub's worn-in charm.
"Can I get you something?" she asked, her voice cutting through his thoughts. Her nametag read Y/N. "Uh, yeah, just a pint of whatever's on tap," Russell replied, trying not to stare. She had a disarming smile, one that made the lines of his past seem a little less heavy.
As she poured his drink, he couldn't help but notice the ease with which she moved, the way she seemed to know exactly how to engage each customer. When she handed him the pint, their fingers brushed slightly, sending a surprising jolt through him. "First time here?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she wiped the bar down.
"Yeah," he admitted. "I'm actually looking to buy the place." She laughed, a light sound that made him smile. "Good luck with that. My grandfather's pretty attached to this old place." "Your grandfather?" Russell echoed, a sinking feeling in his chest. "Yep. Frank Miller," she confirmed. "I'm Y/N." Russell took a long sip of his beer, trying to gather his thoughts. "So, you work here often?"
"Pretty much every day. I've been helping out since I was a kid," she said, leaning on the bar. "So, why does a guy like you want to buy an old brewery?" He glanced around the pub, then back at her. "I've spent my life in a pretty rough business. This place... it feels like the kind of peace I've been searching for."
Y/N studied him for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. "Well, you're going to have a hard time convincing my grandpa. He loves this place more than anything." Russell nodded, appreciating her honesty. "I'll keep that in mind."
Days turned into weeks, and Russell found himself visiting the pub more frequently, ostensibly to discuss the sale with Frank, but in truth, he was drawn to Y/N. They began to talk more, sharing stories over the bar, finding common ground in unexpected places.
Despite their age difference, there was an undeniable connection between them. One evening, after closing time, Y/N found Russell sitting at the bar, nursing his usual pint. "You really don't give up, do you?" she teased, sliding into the stool next to him. He chuckled. "It's not just about the brewery anymore."
She tilted her head, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Really?"
"Yeah," he said quietly, meeting her gaze with a flirty look. Her smile faltered for a moment, replaced by a look of surprise and then something else, something deeper. "Russell, I..."
Before she could finish, the door creaked open, and Frank walked through, his presence instantly commanding the room. His eyes, sharp despite his age, zeroed in on Russell. "Look, buddy, I don't know how many times I need to let you down, but I'm not selling." Russell raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I'm just here for a beer, Frank."
Frank's gaze softened slightly but didn't lose its edge. "Y/N, you need to look out for this man. He's ex-army. You never know what kind of trouble that can bring." Y/N laughed, a sound that lightened the tension. "So are you, Grandpa."
He grumbled something under his breath, but a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He turned back to Russell, his eyes assessing. "So, you're here for the beer, huh?" Russell nodded. "And the company."
Frank looked between Russell and Y/N, and Russell could see the wheels turning in the old man's head. Finally, Frank sighed. "Alright, just keep away from my granddaughter." Y/N grinned, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she refilled Russell's pint. "You heard the man." She winked at Russell.
As the evening wore on, the pub emptied until it was just the three of them. Russell found himself opening up in a way he hadn't expected, sharing stories Frank, in turn, told tales of his own army days, and Y/N listened with rapt attention, occasionally interjecting with her own memories of growing up around the brewery.
It was late when Frank finally stood up, stretching his back. "Alright, time for this old man to hit the sack. Y/N, lock up when you're done." Y/N nodded, watching her grandfather leave before turning back to Russell. "He's a tough nut to crack, but he likes you."
Russell raised an eyebrow. "Could've fooled me." She laughed softly. "He sees a bit of himself in you, I think." Russell looked down at his drink, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Y/N, about what I said earlier..."
Y/N interrupted, her tone gentle but firm. "Listen, Russell, you're a nice guy, and I get it. I'm a younger woman who's been friendly and serving you with a smile, but that doesn't mean there's anything going on here, okay?"
Russell laughed, the sound echoing softly in the nearly empty pub. "That's one way to break a man's heart." Y/N knew he was joking, but she couldn't help but smile. "I know a lot of men, and one thing I can tell you, you don't strike me as the kind of guy who gets his heart broken by a woman."
He chuckled, appreciating her candour. "You might be right about that, or maybe I haven’t found the right one yet." He leaned in closer.
She tapped his hand on the bar, signalling the end of their conversation. "Now, pay up so I can close up." Russell reached into his pocket and pulled out some cash, placing it on the bar. "Keep the change." Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Big spender tonight."
"Just trying to stay in your good graces, might need it to win Frank over." he said with a grin. She shook her head, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. "Good night, Russell."
"Good night, Y/N," he replied, standing up and giving her one last look before heading for the door.
--
The next day, he found himself back at the brewery, ready to face whatever came next with a renewed determination. Whether it was winning over Frank or getting to know Y/N better, he felt ready. But when he arrived, something was off. The brewery was closed, and a couple of police cars were parked out front.
Russell’s heart sank as he spotted Frank talking to the police. He quickened his pace and approached the small group. “Frank, what’s going on?” he asked, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice. Frank turned to him, his face lined with worry and suspicion.
“There was a robbery last night,” he said, his voice gruff. “And Y/N’s been missing ever since.” Russell felt a cold wave of fear wash over him. “Missing? What do you mean, missing?” Frank’s eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer to Russell.
“She closed up last night, didn’t she? You were the last one here. Now she’s gone, and you show up again this morning?” Russell raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Frank, I swear, I left shortly after you. I haven’t seen her. You have to believe me.”
One of the officers stepped forward. “Mr. Shaw, is it? We’ll need to ask you a few questions. “When was the last time you saw Ms. Y/L/N?” Russell recounted the previous evening, explaining how he’d paid his tab and left shortly after Frank had gone to bed. “I went straight back to the motel and didn’t see or hear anything after that.”
The officer nodded, taking notes. “We’ll need to verify your alibi. In the meantime, if you think of anything, please let us know.” Russell nodded, feeling a mix of helplessness and frustration.
As the police continued their investigation, he turned back to Frank. “I want to help find her.” Frank’s gaze softened slightly, but the suspicion lingered. Russell pulled out his phone. "I might know a guy who can help us." He said with his phone to his ear. He turned away from Frank.
"Colter?... I need your help."
--
Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.
Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read! If anyone feels like you're tagged too much, also let me know please. :)
@suckitands33
@mostlymarvelgirl
@globetrotter28
@jackles010378
@hobby27
@call-me-mrs-winchester
@cevansbaby-dove
#jensen ackles#fanfic#x reader#jensen fucking ackles#russell shaw fanfiction#russell shaw#tracker#tracker 1x12#colter shaw#off the books#light angst#jensenedit
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Getting into a new show with no online fandom is torture. I’m being forced to be a general audience member against my will. (I wanna read fanfiction about colter shaw’s trauma)
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Til the End (Colter Shaw x Fe!Reader)
This is inspired by the song “Until the end” by Dean Lewis
Summary: You got hurt on a job and Colter remembers the first time you told him you loved him when he didn’t say it back, so as soon as you wake up, he tells you how he feels.
Trigger Warnings: mentions of head trauma, fluff and some angst
about 900 words
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Colter held on to his coffee cup, staring into the steam ascending from it. He was sitting at the table in the Airstream, his leg bopping up and down in anticipation. You were snuggled up in his bed, passed out. You had been knocked out by your target hitting the back of his gun on your head. Colter had found you and taken you to the hospital. You got stitches and they discharged you, Colter however was still worried. You had fallen asleep in the car and he had carried you to the bed. His phone vibrated and he quickly answered it before it could wake you.
“Hey Reenie” he sighed.
“How is she doing, is she okay?” Reenie asked worried.
“Yeah, they sent her home with me, she’s sleeping” Colter replied.
“Oh, thank god” Reenie sighed in relief.
“I’ll have her call you when she wakes up” Colter promised.
“Yes please, Colter” Reenie replied and hung up.
Colter ran his hand through his hair and looked over to you. He thought about a few nights ago. He had been working another job in another town. You had stayed behind in the trailer, trying to get some writing done. When he had returned to the trailer after finishing the job you had just gotten into bed. Your face had lit up when you had seen him and he had felt his whole body relax at the sight of you. He had stripped down to his boxers and climbed in bed with you, resting his head on your chest. You had run your fingers through his hair in the dark and lightly massaged his tense shoulders. He had rolled off you and lied next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him, your back to his chest. He had buried his face in the back of your neck, absently placing kisses along your shoulders. You had chuckled at the sudden amount of affection. He had lost track of time of how long you were just lying there close to each other.
“Colter?” you had asked his name quietly. He hummed in response, absently stroking your waist.
“I love you” you had simply said. His heart had skipped a beat, and he hadn't known how to reply. He had known but he hadn't been able to say it. He couldn’t remember the last time someone other than his mother or sister had told him these three words. His heartbeat had fastened, afraid of how you would react when he didn’t say it back.
“I don’t expect you to answer. I just wanted you to know” you had added like you had read his mind and scooted even closer to him underlining your statement.
“Just hold me and say you won’t leave” you had asked of him, and he wouldn’t have wanted to do anything else.
“I won’t” he had replied with a husky voice and tightened his grip around you.
You had fallen asleep in his arms that night and the next morning Teddi had called to give you the details for another job, the one he had just finished with you.
“Colter?” your voice pulled him back into the presence and he quickly got up.
“Hey” he smiled at you. You rubbed your eyes.
“Ow” you grimaced and touched your head. He looked at you worried, his brows drawn together.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“My head hurts, but I’ll be fine” you smiled at him tiredly. “Why are you over there?” You pouted at him. He chuckled and crawled into bed next to you. You hummed, turning to him. He was watching you closely, lifting your chin so you’d look at him and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.
“What is it?” you asked, noticing the painful expression on his face and cupping his cheek. He moved your hand from his face and held it in his own, pressing a kiss to the back of it, making you smile.
“I’m all in” he mumbled.
“What?” you furrowed your brows.
“I pushed so many people away, not opening up, scared that they would leave, like my dad, my brother, my sister, but with you… I feel safe, warm. You’re everything I thought I could never have” he rambled on. “And I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”
“Hey” you said, it was your turn to lift his chin so he would look at you. His eyes were glassy as he looked at you full of love.
“Where is this coming from?” you asked. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate him sharing his feelings, but you were worried at the manner he was doing it in.
“When I saw you lying there, for a moment I thought” he swallowed hard.
“I’m fine Colter” you assured him, and he nodded.
“When you told me you loved me a few nights ago, I knew I love you back, but I thought if I told you, something would go wrong, it always does” he confessed. “But when I thought I had lost you today, even just for a minute, all I could think was that I didn’t tell you.” Now he was making your eyes well up. You watched his face closely. He bit his lip.
“I love you so much” he finally finished his little speech.
“I love you too” you smiled and pulled him close, and he pressed you against him like he was starving for physical touch.
#colter shaw#tracker#tracker cbs#colter shaw fanfiction#colter shaw x reader#tracker fanfiction#justin hartley
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Tracker Masterlist
Russell Shaw x Reader
Series
He's My Man (Russell Shaw x reader) - The reader receives an anonymous text from a new client needing an off the books patch job. However he’s annoyingly good looking and the last thing you need is some ex-special ops guy hanging around. Unfortunately for you, Russell Shaw isn’t the kind of guy to walk away when he knows something’s wrong...
M.I.A. (Russell Shaw x reader) (He's My Man verse) - When Colter Shaw calls the reader for help on a job, she thinks nothing of helping out. Only he never shows up and Colter may have just become the latest disappearance in this small town. It’s up to her and Russell to work together to find him before his case goes cold like all the others before…
______________________________________________________________
Colter Shaw x Reader
Imagine...Running Into Colter On A Job (Colter Shaw x reader)
#Tracker#Tracker Masterlist#Russell Shaw#Colter Shaw#Russell Shaw fanfiction#Colter Shaw Fanfiction#Russell Shaw x reader#Colter Shaw x reader
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We need more fanfiction of the following characters/celebs:
Dean Winchester x reader from Supernatural
Charles Xavier x reader from X-Men
Erik Lehnsherr x reader from X-Men
Robbie Turner x reader from Atonement
Beau Arlen x reader from Big Sky
Soldier boy x reader from The Boys
Wolverine x reader from X-Men
James McAvoy x reader
Hugh Jackman x (daughter) reader
Michael Fassbender x reader
Tony Stark x reader, preferably daughter!reader from Marvel-movies
Clint Barton x reader from Marvel-movies
Avengers x reader, any Avenger at all really.
Gellert Grindelwald (Johnny Depp) x reader from Fantastic Beasts
Albus Dumbledore (Jude Law) x reader from Fantastic Beasts
Jack Dawson x reader, Titanic
Legolas x reader from Hobbit-movies and Lord of the Rings-movies
Aragorn x reader from Lord of the Rings-movies
Eomer x reader from Lord of the Rings-movies
Faramir x reader from Lord of the Rings-movies
Castiel x reader from Supernatural
LOTR/Hobbit characters x reader
Charlie Hudson x reader from Hudson & Rex
Lord Asriel x reader from His Dark Materials
Nick Ryan x reader from McLeod's daughters
Richard O'Connell x reader from The Mummy movies
Wade Wilson/Deadpool x reader from Deadpool-movies
Richard Castle x reader from Castle
Drover (Hugh Jackman) x reader from Australia
Ronan Keating x reader
Christian x reader from Moulin Rouge
Aidan Turner x reader and his characters x reader
James Bond (Daniel Craig) x reader
Bucky Barnes x reader
Steve Rogers x reader
Obi-Wan Kenobi x reader from Star Wars prequels and Obi-Wan Kenobi-series
Ewan McGregor x reader
Anakin Skywalker x reader from Star Wars prequels
Hayden Christensen x reader
Owen Grady x reader from Jurassic World
Bucky Barnes x reader from Marvel-movies
Sirius Black x reader from Harry Potter- movies
Cedric Diggory x reader from Harry Potter- movies
Draco Malfoy x reader from Harry Potter-movies
Indiana Jones x reader from Indiana Jones- movies
Cillian Murphy x reader
Tommy Shelby x reader from Peaky Blinders
Harry Goodman x daughter reader from Pokemon Detective Pikachu
Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x (daughter) reader from Top Gun/Top Gun: Maverick
Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x (daughter) reader from Top Gun/ Top Gun: Maverick
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader from Top Gun: Maverick
Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader from Top Gun: Maverick
Robin Hood/Robin of Loxley (Taron Egerton) x reader from Robin Hood
Rafe McCawley x reader from Pearl Harbor
Daniel "Danny" Walker x reader from Pearl Harbor
Eggsy Unwin x reader from the Kingsman-movies
Colter Shaw x reader from Tracker
I'll add here more as I remember more characters/celebs. I prefer character x female reader. The ones in bold need more fanfiction.
#dean winchester x reader#supernatural#james bond x reader#charles xavier x reader#erik lehnsherr x reader#logan howlett x reader#robbie turner x reader#beau arlen x reader#big sky#xmen#atonement#soldier boy x reader#the boys#marvel#james mcavoy x reader#jake seresin x reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#pete mitchell x daughter reader#tom kazansky x daughter reader#tony stark x daughter reader#indiana jones x (daughter) reader#obi wan kenobi x reader#anakin skywalker x reader#jack dawson x reader#colter shaw#colter shaw x reader#tracker
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Series Masterlist - Every Second Counts
Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader
Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the first one you trust to help you find him.
Song Inspo: "Machine" by Amber Run
AN: Here we are! The continuation series of A Line and a Half. Think of that story as a prologue, if you will. Because this road's about to get bumpy...
Series Tags/Warnings: (**18+ only!) Eventual smut, mentions of drug addiction, PSTD, blood and violence, hurt/comfort, and plenty of feels.
Chapters:
Prologue: A Line and a Half
Part 1: Permission Granted
Part 2: Family Reunion
Part 3: Timer Starts Now
Part 4: Mountain Man
Part 5: Damn Worth It
Series Complete
Sequel Stories:
Lost Time** When Russell takes longer than usual on a job out of town, you realize how hard it is to live half a life with him.
More of This** Welcoming Russell home, where he belongs.
Ko-Fi Me ☕
Join My Patreon 🌟
Russell Shaw Masterlist
Main Masterlist
RS Tag List:
Comment below if you'd also like to be tagged in this series!
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007
@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373
@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum
@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady
@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy
@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad
@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73
@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj
@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways
@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato
#Every Second Counts Masterlist#russell shaw#tracker#russell shaw x reader#russell shaw x female reader#russell shaw x you#colter shaw#justin hartley#dory shaw#russell shaw fanfiction#russell shaw fanfic#jensen ackles#jensen ackles characters#tracker fanfiction#tracker cbs#A Line and a Half sequel#russell shaw series#zepskies writes
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All Fics Are Russell Shaw xf!reader
Long As I Can See The Light: The last thing you wanted was to be woken up in the middle of the night by Colter Shaw for a favor, but when he shows up toting a ruggedly handsome man with green eyes you decide to forgive him.
Last Updated on 12/04/2024
(Photos For Mood Board Are From Pinterest)
#jensen ackles#tracker cbs#russell shaw#tracker#tracker fanfiction#russell shaw x you#russell shaw x reader#russell shaw fanfiction#jensen ackles fanfiction#jackles#colter shaw#justin hartley
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Aww thank you so much for including me again in your Fanfiction Fridays!!! 🥰😘
FANFICTION FRIDAYS
I increased the # of recs from 10 on the last post to 32 on this one. There are just so many incredible works out there! (and it's the holiday season so I'm making my own rules this month lol, I'll go back to 10 or so in January)
Here are my picks for Dec 6th 2024, please go give them a read:
Protective Cowboy by @rewrittenreality - Nobody disrespects Rip Wheeler’s woman, Walker obviously doesn’t get that and runs his mouth. (Rip Wheeler x Reader)
Lost In Translation by @zepskies - Living with this man isn’t easy, and you’ve absolutely had it with him. Supe or not, you’re one step shy of kicking him out. Will he try to make it up to you? (Soldier Boy x Female POC!Reader)
BuckTommy/Tevan by @peppermintquartz
Snow Day by @bullet-prooflove (Terry Bruno x Reader)
I'm Not Sick by @lost-between-letters - someone’s got the flu and is not happy about it (hint: it’s Dean). Naturally, Y/N has to convince him to take care of himself. (Dean Winchester x Reader (she/her))
Just Roommates by @luci-in-trenchcoats - Request: one where the reader is in love with Dean and one day he brings a girl to the bunker and introduces her as his girlfriend and the reader is kinda mean to her, but later on tries to move on from Dean with Crowley and Dean finds out and you decide how it ends? (Dean Winchester x Reader / Crowley x Reader)
The Feeling Was Mutual by @lanadelnegan - You and your former friend and co-star, JDM, pick up where you left off years ago when he joins you on set of TWD. Starting with a dinner date and ending with a quickie in the elevator. (Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Female Reader)
Day 7: Thankful by @gay-dinasaur (Destiel)
Lucky You by @caplanbuckybarnes - you stay awake worried about bruce after you return home from a gala in the city (Bruce Wayne x Reader)
Rover by @justagirlinafandomworld - The Age of Ultron did not last just a couple of days. It lasted years. The Avengers are the face of humanity’s rebellion against the machines. But, even they are not prepared for Ultron’s next move. You are. And there may be nothing you can do about it. (Steve Rogers x Reader)
Baby Spoon by @deanwanddamons - A Dean x reader mini series. Y/N is pregnant and Dean is the father. (Dean Winchester x Reader)
New Blood by @wayward-dreamer - The executives at Vought American are enamoured by the new supe at the annual shareholders party, hoping to make her a new addition to Payback. Soldier Boy isn’t pleased with the idea, as he’s the only one who gets to decide who joins his team. He tells her this fact, and braces himself for a fight, but gets something much better out of their encounter. (Soldier Boy x Female Supe!Reader)
Roadhouse Rendezvous by @nightxcreature - Reader and Dean have a little fun in the Roadhouse Bathroom. (Dean Winchester x Reader)
smalltown shit by @encasedinobsidian - “You’re a little young, aren’t you?” he asks, and it isn’t with a scowl but it’s something of the sort, a narrowing of his eyes and a dryness to his voice. It’s no better than a scowl anyway, his skepticism like a concrete wall between the two of you under the dim lights of the bar where Charlie is stuck with you, just where you want him. (Charlie Swan x Female Reader)
helping beau relax after a stressful day at work by @figthoughts (Beau Arlen x GF!Reader)
Red Sunflowers by @kickingitwithkirk - Jensen has fallen for his best friend’s best friend. A long buried scandal jeopardizes their friendship and his feelings. (Jensen Ackles x Wife!Reader (Ginger))
Never Forget by @bullet-prooflove - Joe asks for something in the heat of the moment. (Joe Velasco x Reader)
Shades of Him by @zepskies - You make sure Beau isn’t alone this Christmas. (Beau Arlen x Female!Reader)
Headcanon: Gettin' Down and Dirty with Dean by @waynes-multiverse - Request: I was hoping you could write some smutty head canons about dean
Red Crown by @syrma-sensei - The rightful sovereign of Westros is lonely abed at night. She yearns for her absent king consort's warmth. You decide to take matters into your hands and bring her some comfort.(Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader)
Snow Globe by @jessjad - A visit from Dean and Sam in the week around christmas is a nice surprise, but will it bring more than just presents? (Dean Winchester x Reader)
Cold Kisses by @caplanbuckybarnes - The winter soldier always comes to you for help after a mission. He hardly speaks, let alone kisses you after a treatment… (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
NFSW Alphabet: Joe Velasco by @escapingrealtiylovinginsanity
Devour by @storiesofsvu (Joe Velasco x Reader)
Mexican Food + Traffic Light + Teddy Bear by @bullet-prooflove (Jake Seresin x Reader)
Sleigh Ride by @zepskies - Yet again, you convince Ben to indulge you in a new Christmas tradition. (Soldier Boy x Female!Reader)
Scar by @winchesterszvonecek - Prompt: “How did you get this scar?” (Joe Velasco x Reader)
Willing To Break by @godmadeaterribleerror - With the Mark of Cain getting out of hand, you and Sam convince Dean to try something different. A spell that won't fix the Mark, but will change it. Make Dean crave good things, things he likes, instead of death and blood. It doesn't exactly go according to plan. (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)
a line drawn in red by @angel-eyes05 - you and your across the door neighbor have a complicated relationship with each other. things only seem to grow more murky after you invite him to a work party to embarrass your ex. (Wade Wilson x Reader)
cherry lipgloss by @sapphistically - buffy and you have a fight while patrolling, you get hurt and she can’t help but realise you were right, she does love you. (Buffy Summers x Female!Reader)
Untitled by @imyourbratzdoll - you and clark lose your virginity together. (Clark Kent x Reader)
Long As I Can See The Light by @lamentationsofalonelypotato - The last thing that you wanted was to be woken up in the middle of the night by Colter Shaw for a favor, but when he shows up toting a ruggedly handsome man with green eyes you decide to forgive him. (Russell Shaw x Female!Reader)
And please don’t forget when you come across any and all creative content on here:
divider by @saradika-graphics
#lovelyreaders#fanfiction fridays#jensen ackles#russell shaw fanfiction#russell shaw x you#russell shaw#russell shaw x reader#colter shaw#tracker fanfiction#tracker cbs#tracker#justin hartley
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Tuesday’s Gone — Chapter 2
Russell Shaw x reader
Summary: When the police does little to no help to find your missing daughter, you are forced to contact Colter Shaw. What you don’t expect is how his investigation will reveal secrets about both your past and your daughter’s, in ways you never imagined.
Warnings: missing child trope, description of murder, very light smut.
Title’s based on Tuesday’s Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd.
Read Chapter 1 here
Tuesday’s Gone masterlist
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The October wind chilled through Colter’s jacket as he made his way inside Mitchell’s. Meeting up in a diner–he certainly felt a sense of deja vu. Though, this time, they opted for one with roof. It was fall, for god’s sake.
Once he stepped inside, he scanned the area for the familiar chestnut-haired face he was looking for. It didnt take long to find it–in fact, it found him, waving at him with a nod.
Russell looked pretty much the same as he last saw him a couple of months ago. Maybe his hair got slightly longer.
Colter approached the table and slid into the booth across from him. “Thanks for meeting me.”
“Didn’t leave me much of a choice” Russell chuckled as he munched on the burger in front of him. “You said it was important. What’s this about? Not that I’m complaining. Working together from time to time. Kind of like a family business” he mused.
Without addressing his last words, Colter reached into his jacket and pulled out a manila folder. He placed it on the table between them, pushing it toward Russell. “You need to see this.”
Russell eyed the file, a slight suspicion crossing his face as he put his burger down. He then flipped the folder open. As he started to skim through its contents, his brows furrowed. The file contained pictures, reports, details…everything about a missing girl.
“Who is she?”
“Her name’s Emma. She’s been missing since yesterday. Abducted from her house. No leads yet.” Colter said and then after a few moments of silence, he added. “I think the people responsible are connected to something you were involved in years ago.”
Russell froze mid-page turn. “What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t been involved in anything for a while. You know that.”
“I’m talking about The Horizon Group, Russell.”
At the mention of the name, Russell’s face hardened. “What does this have to do with them? I told you, I cut ties. I can’t give you intel or anything like that on them.”
“Look closer.” Colter said and nodded towards the file.
Russell frowned but flipped through the file again, but this time even more carefully. It was when he hit a particular page that he stopped cold. His eyes locked onto a name he hadn’t seen in years.
Y/N Y/L/N.
The file listed Emma’s mother as Y/N. Russell’s heartbeat quickened, his mind racing through memories that rushed back to him about the woman he’d left behind long ago.
“What’s this about?” Russell asked, still trying to sound neutral. “Y/N. I, uh… Yeah, I knew her. A long time ago.” he admitted. “This— uh, this is her daughter?”
Colter nodded slowly, watching as the realization began to hit Russell. “Yeah. Emma’s her daughter.”
Russell’s hand shook slightly as he flipped through the file again, looking more closely at the girl’s picture this time. She was small. Had wide, innocent eyes and an undeniable resemblance to Y/N. Her eyes were shaped just like her mother’s, same with her lips… But her iris–pale green–and her nose… It wasn’t her. They seemed eerily familiar, though.
“She’s… four?” Russell asked, doing the math in his head, suspicion rising in his mind.
“Yeah” Colter confirmed. He could see the wheels turning in his brother’s head.
Russell leaned back in his seat, his face paler than usual. “Colter, why the hell are you showing me this? Why does this have anything to do with me?” he asked, but he already knew the answer.
“Because I think you need to ask yourself if there’s a chance… that you’re Emma’s father.”
The words hit Russell like a punch to the gut, leaving him reeling. His mind scrambled to piece together the timeline.
The last time he’d seen Y/N. It wasn’t a peaceful break-up, not in the slightest.
“Are you saying—” Russell’s voice cracked, but he forced himself to stay calm. “Are you saying that I might be her father?”
“I don’t know” Colter said, but in fact, according to your own words, it was more than a possibility. “But the timing fits. And if you are, this isn’t just about a missing kid anymore, Russell. They didn’t just take any girl…they took your daughter.”
Russell stared at Colter, the weight of his heavy words sinking in. He had spent years running from his past, trying to bury it. But now, it was staring back at him right in the face in the form of a little girl he hadn’t even known existed.
His hands gripped the table, knuckles going white. “I… didn’t know” he said quietly. “I didn’t know she existed.”
“I believe you” Colter said. “But if Horizon took Emma, there’s a chance they’re using her to get to you.”
Russell’s heart almost skipped a beat. “They’re using her…because of me?”
Colter nodded. “It’s possible. It’s leverage. You were involved with them once, Russell. You know how they operate. They think they can use Emma to force your hand. And if they’ve gone this far….”
“...they’re not going to stop until they get what they want” Russell finished his sentence. He leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. It was too much, all at once. The realization that he had a daughter, that she had been taken because of his past…he had never felt so powerless. “I–I have a daughter” he whispered.
After a few moments of silence, he spoke up again “I never wanted this” he added, his voice laced with emotion. “I left so Y/N could be safe.”
Colter reached across the table. “I know. But now we need to focus on finding Emma. This isn’t just about the past anymore. It’s about finding her.”
Russell lifted his head, his eyes as determined as ever. “What do I do?”
“We start by figuring out what Horizon wants” Colter said. “You need to think. Are there any old connections, anyone from that time who might have known you were still around? Anyone who could’ve tipped them off?”
Russell thought back, his mind racing through the faces and names of people he had cut ties with long ago. “I don’t know. I kept my distance. I thought I was careful.”
“Well, someone wasn’t” Colter said. “They found Y/N and Emma, and now they’re making their move. We need to be one step ahead of them.”
Russell nodded, the knot in his chest tightening. “We’ll find her. We have to.”
Colter stood, signaling to the waitress for the check. “We will. But it’s going to take everything we’ve got.”
As they left the diner together, Russell couldn’t shake the image of Emma’s face from his mind. He didn’t know her, didn’t even know if he had the right to call himself her father.
But one thing was clear: he was the reason she was in danger.
And that meant he would do whatever it took to bring her home.
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“Fuck, Russ” you murmured against his shoulder while he relentlessly pounded into your deepest parts. His thick, veiny arms held you steady, his soft grunts and curses going from your ears straight to your core.
The bedroom was a mess, sheets tangled and clothes scattered around the floor. You were lost in the moment, completely. But then, the bliss was shattered.
A loud crash echoed through the house, making you both freeze. Your heart raced as the sound of shattering glass filled the air, and a surge of adrenaline shot through you.
“Russ!” you gasped almost in a whisper, pulling away to look at him. Panic flickered in his eyes, and in an instant, he was off the bed, putting on his pajamas in record time. You never saw him like this before, this…focused.
“Stay here” he commanded, his voice low and serious.Where did this tone come from?
You nodded, but fear gripped you. You couldn’t just sit back and wait.
You slipped out of bed, instinctively grabbing one of his discarded shirts and pulling it on as quickly as your trembling hands allowed. You peered into the hallway, your heart pounding as you heard footsteps echoing through the house.
“Russ!” you called softly, straining to hear him over the rush of blood in your ears.
Then you heard it— a loud bang followed by a deafening silence. The next moment, you saw him move down the hallway, his expression set and focused, a stark contrast to the intimacy you’d just shared.
“Get back!” he shouted as he rushed toward the sound, and you felt a chill run over you.
Something was terribly wrong.
You stepped into the hallway, heart racing as hell, when suddenly, you saw the flash of a figure moving quickly toward him. Instinct kicked in, and you were about to scream when Russell pivoted, drawing a weapon you never knew he had.
In a split second, he fired. The sound of the gunshot echoed like thunder in the small space, making you jump.
The intruder stumbled, and then collapsed to the floor in a heap.
You stood frozen, eyes wide, as the realization of what just happened hit you. YOu just witnessed a murder. There’s a dead body. In your house.
The body of the intruder lay motionless, and a knot of horror tightened in your stomach.
“Russ…” you breathed, struggling to process what you’d just witnessed. He turned to you, his face pale but his eyes dark, filled with an intensity that was absolutely foreign to you and terrifying.
“I’m sorry” he said, breathless. “I–” he stammered. “I didn’t want you to see that.”
“Who was he?” you asked, voice, hands, body, trembling. “W–Why did you shoot him? We could just... we should have just called the cops!”
Russell stepped toward you, his gun still in hand, his breath coming in quick bursts. He contemplated what to say. But the months of keeping you in the dark… it was enough. It was time to finally tell the truth. Even if it hurt like a son of a bitch.
“He… He was here to kill me. Kill us.”
Your heart sank, and the pieces began to fall into place. You had known Russell had a past, but this? You had never imagined he was mixed up in something this dangerous.
“I didn’t want you to find out like this. I wanted to keep you safe.”
“Safe?” you echoed. "From what?"
“From Horizon... From... all of this." he said motioned to the now blood-soaked carpet. "I didn’t choose this life” he sighed, frustration creeping into his voice. “I wanted to leave it behind. But they won’t let me. They never will.”
The gravity of the situation pressed down on you, and you felt your world tilt on its axis. You couldn’t comprehend the reality of what was unfolding before you.
The man you loved, the man who had shown you such tenderness, was also a part of something dark and deadly. The man you thought you knew— he killed a man. He shot a man right in front of your very eyes. And he did it precision. Without any hesitance. And it scared you. No, it terrified you.
And… what the hell was Horizon?
“We need to go” Russell said urgently, glancing at the still body on the floor. “They’ll come looking for him, and we can’t be here when they do.”
“What? Where?” you asked, feeling the panic rise in your chest.
“Anywhere but here” he said, taking your hand and leading you toward the back door. “Trust me, Y/N. I’ll keep you safe.”
“No” you said stopping in your tracks as you pulled your hand out of his hold. “Why would I trust you? I– I won't go anywhere with you.”
“What?” Russell stopped in his tracks to turn around and face you. “Y/N, we don’t have time to argue right now, I–”
“No, Russell. You fucking lied to me, kept secrets from me. I won’t go anywhere with you. I–” you trailed off. “Get the hell out of here.”
“Y/N”
“I said get the hell out of here!” you shouted.
“There’s a body in your house. I won't leave you here like this. At least– fuck, at least let me take care of it” he said frustratedly. Though her words stung, he knew he deserved it all. Still, he got her in this mess… the least he can do is to try to get her out of it. “Then… I’ll take you to your sister’s” he added reluctantly.
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You were in the middle of scrolling through social media on your couch. All of your friends, mutuals and family members had shared the news of Emma’s disappearance. It was desperate, you knew, but all means necessary to find your daughter. You were about to share the post in another Missing Persons Facebook group when the doorbell rang.
You opened the door, expecting only Colter standing there. But he wasn’t alone. It was the man behind him that made your heart skip a beat.
Russell.
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Next on Tuesday’s Gone (Sneak peek from Chapter 3):
“Why are you here?” You spat, your voice trembling with anger. “Are you actually worried about her… or are you just feeling guilty?”
“Because I didn’t know” Russell replied, his expression softening. “I didn’t know what I was missing until Colter called. He told me about Emma, about how scared you must be. And hell yes, I feel guilty. I— I wish I knew about her” he sighed. “Maybe I could have protected her from all of this.”
Just as you were about to answer him, to tell him another wave of fuck yous, Colter marched into the house. “I think you should see this.”
Both you and Russell turned to the younger Shaw, and you eyed him warily. “What?” you asked, still heated from the argument you and his brother had.
“There are new footprints on the front porch.” Colter said and motioned for you to follow him outside.
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Aaand the plot thickens.
Thank you for reading Chapter 2 of Tuesday's Gone, I hope you liked it!
Read Chapter 3 here
Xx Pam
#jensen ackles#russell shaw fanfiction#russell shaw x reader#jensen ackles x reader#russell shaw x you#russell shaw#tracker fanfiction#tracker cbs#colter shaw#jensen ackles fanfiction#jensen x reader
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