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caffeinewitchcraft · 2 months ago

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AITA for telling my boyfriend’s coworkers that he’s lying about his body count?

I (35f) have been dating my boyfriend (32m) for four years. It’s honestly been the best relationship until last Friday when it all went down. I feel like I’m in the right, but now I’m wondering if I overstepped.

For context, my boyfriend has been a professional Slasher for about eight months now. He’s always really admired Cryptids, Monsters, and Nightmares so when his application was finally accepted, he was over the moon even if he was starting in a lower position than he initially applied for.

At his company, being a Slasher requires a lot of travel which we knew when he accepted the position. The end goal is for him to get a promotion to at least regional Nightmare (he wants Cryptid, but that position doesn’t have a lot of turnover) but to get that he needs to be in role for at least 12 months OR meet his goals for three months in a row. Once he promotes, we plan to relocate to his new region and “start talking about our future.”

(Side note: no this isn’t about him not popping the question yet. We are both in agreement that marriage comes after financial stability. I run a small business doing scare consults and, while it’s been growing, I wouldn’t call it stable yet. So neither of us are ready.)

I told him it’s completely normal for it to take a whole year before he’s ready to promote and he really should focus on adjusting to the company before thinking about next steps. I used to work for a competitor (I’ve been retired for five years now) and I know it can be hard to go from only taking the occasional human life to having to take over half a dozen a week. It’s not a light workload, no matter how easy it looks in the movies. One of my best friends Slashes part-time and she still only averages about five lives a week despite having done it for years. Especially these days, it can be really hard to meet quota. Humans are getting smarter, no matter what the Council wants us to think.

Anyway, boyfriend didn’t do as well as he thought he would in his first couple months. Totally understandable, of course, which I told him. I suggested he ask his boss if he could be put on a couple team assignments or even a duo until he got the hang of it. That was our first real fight. He thought I was doubting his ability to kill. He brought up how I told him it would take over a year to promote and how I said that this job wasn’t for everyone (His first assignment ended with a 0% kill rate, but that’s a different story). He said it felt like I didn’t believe in him and he said that if that was the case then maybe we shouldn’t be thinking about marriage so soon.

It got pretty messy after that. I felt like he was forgetting that I’d worked in the same field and, arguably, had a lot more experience (not to brag, but I averaged a 98% kill rate). Also, four years is NOT too soon to talk about marriage. He said I didn’t understand how he needed to focus on his career right now. I told him I thought he was taking Slasher too lightly just because it wasn’t Cryptid. He accused me of not respecting him and then things spiraled from there.

We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean and I’m embarrassed that it turned into a bit of a fang measuring contest. I ended up sleeping under the bed for a few nights until he coaxed me out to apologize.

It was a rough patch, but we talked it out. We agreed that, going forward, I wouldn’t offer advice unless he asked and he would try not to take so much of his frustration home with him. He took a weekend off and we went on a recreational haunting trip in the Montana woods.

Things did get better after that. I tried not to give him consults every time he came back from a work trip. He started bringing me souvenirs like roses and cursed puzzle boxes his work said he could have. It became easier just to hang out with each other and it felt like we were back to normal.

But then, four months ago, he came home super pissed because his boss put him on a PIP. (A performance improvement plan.) Apparently, boyfriend had not been doing better at work, he had just stopped telling me when he had a bad assignment. I saw the paperwork he got (he left it in the dungeon under the house, I didn’t go through his stuff) and he’s been missing quota by a LOT. As a junior Slasher, he was supposed to be executing at least 6 people a week, but he’d been lucky to be maiming half that.

Obviously, I had to talk to him about that. We rent our house and, even though I could have afforded the rent on my own, I didn’t want to jeopardize the investments I was making in my business (I was in the process of hiring an assistant to handle my scheduling). Plus, we agreed from day one that we would be 50/50 on rent and I would take care of the rest of the bills because I earned more. I felt that if his financial situation was in jeopardy, he needed to talk to me about it.

I tried to approach him a bit differently than last time. I asked him if there was anything I could do to help. I told him about my slasher friend and how maybe she could give him advice if he didn’t want any from me. But he said he needed to figure stuff out on his own and that if he couldn’t get himself off the PIP then he would go back to work for his dad’s janitorial company.

I let it go. I was worried but I didn’t want to fight again just after patching the holes from the last blow out. It really bugged me that he thought I didn’t believe in him so I committed to giving him the benefit of the doubt. I said okay and asked him if he needed me to meal prep for both of us that week. He offered me grocery money, but I said it was fine since I’d had to deal with a lot of humans breaking in lately and I still had some leftover in the dungeon.

Fast forward a month. Boyfriend got off the PIP super fast. He worked his way off of it over Spring Break and started taking on a lot of extra assignments. In just four weeks he went to Miami Beach twice, New York City twice, and to three separate summer camps. I missed him and it was hard not having him around but I remembered how he said he needed to focus on his career and I tried not to nag.

It was hard not to nag though. With him gone, all the housework fell on me. We rent a 19th century manor, and its upkeep really does need two people. Doing all the chores plus running my business started to really drain me. Even when he was home, he forgot to banish the ghosts (my chore is to kill all invading humans, and his chore is to banish their ghosts) and he never took out the trash. I think he cleaned blood off the dungeon walls once, but then I had to basically redo it because he missed a lot of spots.

But still, I didn’t say anything because he was doing really well at work and I didn’t want to ruin that for him. Even when Humans started breaking in every week, I didn’t complain even though it interrupted my work day.

Last month though, I did ask him if we could move somewhere that needed less maintenance. There were just way too many Humans breaking in and I didn’t have the time to deal with them anymore. Even if I don’t do all the theatrics I used to as a Cryptid, killing humans through fear still takes a lot of time. He asked me if I didn’t appreciate the free meat, and I said I would appreciate it more if I wasn’t the only butchering it.

He said he didn’t want to move because he was really close to getting promoted to regional Nightmare and he didn’t want to take time off work to move. I was so surprised that I couldn’t hide how surprised I was. He saw and got offended. He asked if I still didn’t believe in him. I said that I did, but it was a huge jump to go from an 8% kill rate to getting promoted.

He got even more mad at me for bringing up his stats and he said that he had nearly 80% kill rate since being put on the PIP. I asked how many humans a week he was slashing and he told me I was being too nosy and that was proof that I didn’t believe in him.

I asked him if we could at least hire a ghoul then to keep the humans out of my office and he said he didn’t want to waste the money that we should be saving for our new house. I asked him what he wanted me to do then? I had to take phone calls for my consulting business and it was really hard to stalk humans all around the house while trying to sound like a professional to my clients.

He asked me to be patient for one more month. He said if he met quota for one more month, his boss said he’d get promoted. So I said fine and let it go.

Fast forward to now, almost a full month later.

Last Friday, I attended the Eldritch Conference. For those not in the scare field, the Eldritch Conference is the most prestigious event in our industry. It’s invitation only and is a chance to network with all the big players in the field. Mothman, the Jersey Devil, Bloody Mary and Bigfoot all spoke this year and both my former company, Grudge Industries, and my boyfriend’s current company, Forgotten Summer Solutions, were invited.

I was surprised to get an invite as a solo contributor to the field. However, my consulting firm has really been doing well and I did land a seasonal contract with the Yeti Co-op which I guess is how they heard about me. Plus, I’ve been a speaker before so I think the organizers knew I would behave myself.

I was planning on telling my boyfriend that I was going, but he was out of town on a co-ed sleepover assignment. He usually doesn’t have his phone on during his assignments, so I didn’t bother calling him. I just figured it’d be nice if we ran into each other at the conference if he made it back in time.

Which brings me to what actually happened (apologies for the long post).

So everything went great for my part of the day. I got to network with a lot of individual businesses and even got to reconnect with Blood Mary who I knew back in my Cryptid days. I told her I was dating a Slasher from Forgotten Summer Solutions and invited her to come with me to check out their booth. I thought it would be fun to grab dinner with her after since I assumed if my boyfriend was there, he’d be going out with coworkers which he often does. Plus, I admit, I was showing off a little. I don’t often get the chance to brag about my Cryptid days.

She agreed and we went over to see if my boyfriend was there.

I introduced myself to the people manning the booth. My boyfriend wasn’t there, but a few Slashers recognized my name and greeted me. They were definitely in awe of Bloody Mary (she came in full uniform) and invited us to look at their displays. They had portfolios for each Slasher on the desk as a sort of preview of what their services looked like.

While Bloody Mary looked through the portfolios, I chatted with my boyfriend’s coworkers. They said they were thrilled to work with him and that, even though he had a really rough start, it was impressive how quickly he started meeting his goals. Something about how they talked about his work kind of didn’t make sense. They were talking like he was killing a dozen humans a week, but he’d told me that he was at 80% on his assignments which typically only offer about ten humans each.

I asked them about it and they said that he’d been Slashing during After Hours which is a new goal supplement program his company launched a few months ago. Basically, anyone can sign up for After Hours and the company counts human kills done in uniform as part of their quota. I asked them if this was available to them while they were on assignment and they said no, it had to be done when they had down time. I asked them how my boyfriend was part of that when he was traveling all the time and they looked confused. One of them said that my boyfriend is still getting one assignment per week and is then supplementing his kill rate with After Hours.

At that point, I was even more confused. It sounded like my boyfriend had been lying to me then, because he told me that he was getting at least two assignments a week. If he was only getting one, then where was he going when he said he was traveling?

Bloody Mary interrupted before I could say anything and asked how their Slashers did their kills. They said that every Slasher at their company is required to use a standard issue weapon (like a machete or axe) for their kills to count. They said their company doesn’t count accidents as part of their quota (like falling or heart attacks).

Bloody Mary pulled me aside and showed me the portfolio she was holding. She said that she was going to give me a chance to explain without them overhearing and showed me the book. She said that a bunch of kills in it looked Cryptid kills. And she said, specifically, it looked like the kills I made when I was a Cryptid. I took the book from her and flipped through it and she was right, they really did look like Cryptid kills. Worse, I recognized a few of the Humans from the past few weeks. They were actually my kills!

Kill stealing is a major taboo in our industry.

I told her I didn’t know anything about this. She looked really relieved at that and said that even though I wasn’t a Cryptid anymore, it would look really bad for me if I was caught helping a Slasher cheat at their job. It could affect my business which she’d only heard good things about.

I’m embarrassed to say that I tried to defend him. He’s new to our industry so I thought it might be a mistake. He might not be trying to cheat, this could be a misunderstanding.

She said she didn’t think so because a mistake would be one or two of my kills mixed in with his, not the entire book.

I counted up how many photos were in the book and, all told, of the 146 kills, at least 100 were mine. I couldn’t really say it was a mistake at that point and I was just staring at his portfolio like an idiot. Bloody Mary asked me what I was going to do because, mistake or not, this looked really bad and could damage my reputation if it got out.

At that moment, another man walked up to booth and asked us if there was a problem. I knew that if I said anything, I would be jeopardizing my boyfriend’s job, but if I didn’t say something, I was jeopardizing my business.

I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count. I said I didn’t think that they knew he was doing it, but over half of the kills in his portfolio weren’t his and I suggested they remove it from their display before another Cryptid came by and realized it.

The other man thanked me for bringing this to his attention and asked how we knew. Bloody Mary said that she knew another Cryptid’s kills and I had to tell them that I was that Cryptid, though I was retired now. He asked me if I knew my boyfriend was doing this, and I told him no.

I told him I really didn’t want to get my boyfriend in trouble and suggested that maybe he didn’t know those kills didn’t belong to him because they happened in our house. I was grasping at straws and Blood Mary even looked sad for me. His coworkers looked skeptical but tentatively agreed. The man – who turned out to my boyfriend’s boss – said that they would investigate this thoroughly and apologized personally for his employee’s misconduct.

I was spiraling at that point so I thanked him and said I wasn’t mad, I was just looking out for both of our reputations. He promised to keep it between us and I agreed.

Then I apologized to Bloody Mary because I didn’t feel like eating dinner anymore. She said she understood and wished me well.

I went home and did a quick perimeter search of the property. Sure enough, there were human summoning stones ALL OVER the yard. Which means my boyfriend was intentionally luring humans to our house to get me to kill them so he could take credit. It wasn’t a mistake at all.

My boyfriend came home later that night in his work clothes. As soon he got inside he started yelling. He said he was suspended without pay and that all his hard work was for nothing.

I said I knew he’d been stealing my kills and he almost ruined my reputation. He said they still counted as his kills because he did all the work of luring the humans to our house.

I told him that wasn’t how it worked and he knew it. He said it was the same as setting a trap and I was taking this too seriously. I told him that, as a Slasher, he has to use a weapon to get his kills, not me. He said I was basically the same thing since I had such a high kill rate. I asked him if he was calling me an object.

(My parents exploited me by selling me as a haunted doll through a lot of my childhood and he knows I’m sensitive to being called an object.)

He backpedaled at that point and asked if I didn’t want to buy a house together. He said he was doing it for us and I should’ve understood and not said anything. I told him that when I was a Cryptid I had my pride and would’ve never done this.

He said I needed to tell his boss that he was the one who made all those kills. I said it wasn’t me who recognized them as Cryptid kills and now his boss knew too. He accused me of thinking I’m better than him because I have telekinetic powers and can move through shadows and can possess people, while he’s basically a human himself. I told him of course not and that I worked hard for those powers unlike him.

He got really mad at that and actually charged at me with his machete raised. I don’t think he was going to actually hit me, but I reacted like he was. It was all instinct. I disarmed him and I swear I heard a crack when I grabbed his wrist. I shoved him into the wall.

He crumpled to the floor and started crying. He said sorry and sort of curled up around his wrist. He said he didn’t ever feel like he was enough for me and he didn’t even know why I was still with him. He called himself a bunch of names and said I would be better off without him.

I sort of awkwardly stood there for a minute. On one hand I wanted to assure him that he was enough and that I loved him, but, on the other, I wasn’t sure I could forgive him. He nearly ruined my reputation, and he embarrassed me in front of Bloody Mary. Plus, I still didn't know where he’d been going all those times he said he was on a business trip and apparently wasn’t.

So I ended up not saying anything. I went to our room and started packing a bag. He followed me. He was still crying as he begged me not to go. He said he would own up to his kill steals at work and he would make it right. He pleaded for me not to leave him and that he would give up slashing.

I told him I needed space to think. He tried to grab me, but I shadow walked out of the house. I heard him screaming from outside and I hurriedly drove away.

Now I’m at my friend’s house and I told her everything. She agreed I did the right thing walking away from him, but when I asked her what I should do she hesitated. She said that my boyfriend wasn’t right to kill steal but, as a fellow Slasher, she understood what he was going through. She said I wouldn’t understand the pressure to meet quota because I was always surpassing mine when I was in the field. She said that a Cryptid could never understand a Slasher.

She also said that nobody would have found out about his kills if I hadn’t brought them to his boss’ attention. She said the only time kills are on display like that is at the Eldritch Conference and by the next one, he’d have had kills of his own. She thinks that if I’d just confronted him at home, he wouldn’t be on suspension.

So now I’m worried that I overreacted when I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count.

AITA?

----

Thanks for reading! Several amazing supernatural citizens (aka my Patrons) gave great advice to our poor OP over on my Patreon! Please go check them out here (X)

(I will definitely be posting some of them here in the near future!)

My next supernatural AITA is already up to my patrons!

It's called "AITA for divorcing my vampire husband because he lied about his human job?"

Patrons get to see many of my stories a week ahead! If that interests you please check me out here (X)!

#my writing #aita reddit parody #third person #original fiction #supernatural #halloween #aita parody

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sleepyhoon · 2 months ago

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THREE WEEKS & THREE DAYS - P.SH

pairing. best friend's ex!sunghoon x reader

genre. best friend's ex au, halloween au, smut, angst (if you squint).

word count. 12.2k+

warnings. alcohol consumption, drug usage, partying, driving under the influence, toxic relationships, themes of divorce, brief mention of physical abuse, smut [car sex, use of handcuffs, oral, praise kink/dirty talk, creampie]

summary. a stressful night at a Halloween party has you seeking comfort from the last person you should be involved with — your best friend's ex.

a/n. HIGHLY HIGHLY inspired by season 2 episode 1 of euphoria! this is a work of pure fiction and is NOT a reflection of how i view the members. despite writing this story, i DO NOT condone the dangerous choices the characters in this fic make and DO NOT encourage others to do so! read at your own discretion. also, very special thanks to @zreamy for beta-reading this for me!!

When you were six, you spent Halloween night lying on a hospital bed dressed as Hannah Montana.

Everything happened so fast; one moment, you were trick-or-treating with your father and younger sister while scarfing down a Snickers bar for the first time (a king-sized one at that), and the next, your dad was rushing you to the hospital in a panic, tears in his eyes as he encouraged you to stay awake in the backseat.

By the time you’d arrived at the hospital, your body had gone completely limp, and your father struggled to carry both you and your younger sister into the hospital lobby. From what you can remember, it was like a scene from a movie: seeing your dad cry for the first time, being wheeled into an unfamiliar bright room on a mobile bed, all while dressed as your favorite popstar.

The scariest part of the night was shortly after arriving at the hospital and catching a glimpse of your reflection, not recognizing the person staring back at you. The blonde wig and blue eye contacts were to be expected, but the swollen face and half-lidded eyes were another. Had you been able to breathe (let alone talk), you likely would’ve given your sister a classic Halloween jumpscare.

Your mother had arrived only a few minutes after you did, yelling at your father loud enough to have the hospital staff threaten to kick her out. “You forgot she was allergic to peanuts?! Where was her fucking EpiPen?!”

Your dad sighed, running a hand across his face, “I forgot to pick it up. I’ve been busy with…you know.”

She scoffs, “You don’t think I’ve been busy too?! Especially now that we have to meet with the divorce lawyer once a week?!”

Your ears perk up at that, “Divorce?”

You hadn’t known much about the true meaning of divorce, except that it’s something your friend’s parents had gone through, and now he gets two of everything. Two birthdays, two Christmases, two lives. So simple yet so perfect, what child wouldn’t dream of that?

Your parents, who hadn’t even known you were awake, silence themselves immediately. Tears quickly form in your mother’s eyes as she realizes they’d been caught, trying their best to keep the news of their divorce as quiet as possible, waiting for the right moment to explain to you and your sister, Yuna, the real meaning of it, and how different your lives would be.

It dawns on them that there’s no point trying to keep this secret any longer. You were a smart kid, it was probably only a matter of time before you found out on your own, anyway.

All in one night, you managed to survive a near-death experience, only to be followed by the news of your parents’ divorce. And somehow, at twenty-three years old, watching Lee Heeseung flirt with random girls at a Halloween party is much worse than everything you experienced that cursed night in 2007.

“Can you at least pretend that you’re having a good time?!” You can barely hear Minjeong over how loud the music is, her words fading in and out as you take a sip from your cup.

“I am having a good time, isn’t it obvious?” you reply, showing Minjeong your best fake smile.

Grinning, Minjeong shakes her head at you. “Not at all. Here, need a refill?”

Without waiting for your response, Minjeong hops off the kitchen counter and snatches the red solo cup in your hand. You don’t bother protesting, sighing as you rest your weight against the marble countertop, while she adds a mix of different ingredients to your cup.

When she’s not looking, you tilt your head in the direction of the living room, hoping to get a glance at Heeseung through the sea of drunken college students.

The only word that can be used to describe your relationship with Heeseung is ‘unfortunate’. You were together for six months, and spent most of the time fighting, making up, and having sex. It was a relentless, tiresome cycle you allowed yourself to succumb to just for the sake of not having to be alone.

Most of the arguments would start with you questioning Heeseung’s loyalty, growing suspicious upon seeing his username pop up in the likes section of random girls on social media. In hindsight, it seems like a silly thing to get upset over. The entire purpose of social media was to connect and interact with others anyway, but, why was it always girls? And why would these girls suddenly start watching your stories?

Breaking up with him was harder than you could’ve imagined, and you’re sure you wouldn’t have been able to do it without Minjeong by your side, encouraging you through the entire process.

The aftermath was embarrassingly excruciating. For two weeks, you locked yourself in your bedroom and fell into a cycle of sleeping and crying, occasionally taking breaks to eat or use the restroom. At one point, your phone spent a full forty-eight hours without being turned on at all, causing your loved ones to panic upon not being able to get ahold of you.

Slowly but surely you managed to build yourself back up, finally starting to feel like your old self when Heeseung suggested the two of you get back together.

You were hesitant, of course, telling Heeseung you were willing to work things out if he can prove to you he’s changed and ready to be the loyal, doting boyfriend he should’ve been from the start.

So no, you’re not together. But you’re also not not together. It’s confusing.

A football player is blocking your view of Heeseung (dressed as a cowboy), you have to stand on your tip-toes to catch a glimpse of him talking to — wait, who is that?

“Patrick would not stand for this.” Minjeong interrupts your thoughts, poking fun at your costume choice of a female Patrick Bateman.

You shrug, pretending to act clueless. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

Minjeong rolls her eyes, shoving your cup back into your hand “Sure, you weren’t. Come on, cheers with me.”

“To what?” you ask, suspiciously eyeing the drink she’s just handed you. Minjeong isn’t that great of a cook, so you can imagine she’s not the best bartender either. In fact, it’d be best if she stayed far away from any sort of kitchen appliance.

She thinks for a moment then excitedly extends her cup out to you. “To getting over our shitty ex-boyfriends!”

Minjeong’s ex was Park Sunghoon, they dated on and off for a year and a half before calling it quits over the summer. You don’t remember the exact reason why they broke up, there were many different factors. It didn’t matter, they were bad for each other anyway and the relationship was entirely too toxic for either of their wellbeing.

You don’t know much about Sunghoon aside from the things Minjeong felt comfortable enough to share with you and the fact that he is on the university’s hockey team with Heeseung. You’ve probably had a handful of conversations and interactions with Sunghoon in the entire time of knowing him, and are more than happy with things staying that way.

Holding your cup up high, you match Minjeong’s smile and tap your cup against hers. “To getting over our ex-boyfriends!”

The drink is disgusting. You quickly turn away so you don’t hurt your best friend’s feelings by gagging at the taste. She manages to down her entire cup while you make quick work of pouring a majority of yours down the sink behind you.

Minjeong stares down at her empty cup with wide eyes, licking the remains off her plump lips. “Holy shit, that was so good. Do you want more? I’m gonna make myself another cup.”

“I’m good for now, thanks,” you say, snatching your cup away when she reaches for it. Minjeong raises a brow at you, and you follow up with, “I should wait before having another drink.”

She nods understandingly, and you give yourself a mental pat on the back for coming up with that so quickly.

While she’s occupied with making another drink, your eyes trail back over towards Heeseung. The football player from earlier is gone, and now that your view is no longer obstructed, you watch in confusion as Heeseung now has this mystery girl by the waist, leaning his head down close to her lips as she whispers something in his ear.

This really is worse than Halloween 2007.

“Hey.” You tap Minjeong’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

She follows your line of sight, scowling when it lands on Heeseung. “YN, don’t make a big deal out of this. You guys technically aren’t even together.”

“Relax, I’m just going to say hi.” You assure her, moving to head towards Heeseung when Minjeong stops you with a hand on your chest. “Think about this, please.”

You sigh, using your free hand to clutch hers and slowly bring it down from your chest. “I’ll be fine. Be back soon so we can dance, okay?”

Minjeong knows she won’t be able to stop you once your mind is made up, all she can do is sigh and wish you the best as you make a beeline for your ex. Maybe not the greatest idea on your part, but you’re too tipsy to think rationally.

Heeseung doesn’t notice you when you first approach, it takes the mystery girl awkwardly gesturing in your direction for him to finally look over at you, immediately dropping his hand from the girl’s waist. “YN!” He shouts, a little too excitedly, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

A few minutes later, you find yourself in an unfamiliar bedroom with Heeseung on step one of your toxic cycle — arguing.

“You’re overreacting,” Heeseung claims. “We were just talking.”

“About what, Heeseung? Why did you have to hold her by the fucking waist to talk to her?”

“Because! She was drunk! I was holding her up so she wouldn’t fall and hurt herself!”

“Who gives a shit if she falls? She’s not your fucking girlfriend.”

“Yeah, well, neither are you.”

His words shouldn’t hurt as much as they do because he’s right; despite trying to work on things, you aren’t his girlfriend. You were the one who said you weren’t ready to get back together, not him. You shouldn’t be upset with him for talking to other girls.

And yet, here you are with tears in your eyes.

You nod silently, avoiding his gaze as a lump forms in your throat.

Heeseung must realize how much his words have affected you if the way he curses at himself, and shamefully runs a hand across his face is anything to go by. “Listen, I’m sor-”

“Don’t bother.” You stand from the bed, holding back a sob.“Everything about this was a mistake. You’ll never change.”

Heeseung reaches a hand out to grab your arm as you push past him. “YN, I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, Heeseung, you did mean it,” you say, pulling the bedroom door open.

There is no point in trying to reason with Heeseung. You know in a matter of time he’ll apologize, you’ll accept it like you always do, have make-up sex, then lecture him about how important it is that he changes before you can consider getting back together. Another endless cycle you’ve fallen into.

Stepping back into the party, you head in the opposite direction of where Minjeong would be, not wanting to run into her in your current state and bump right into someone dressed as Spiderman, causing the little remains of your drink to spill over and knock to the ground. You’re grateful that a crucial part of Patrick Bateman’s costume involved a plastic raincoat, or else your outfit would have suffered a dark blue stain.

“Oh my God, YN! I’m so sorry!” Spider-Man apologizes with a thick Australian accent.

“Jake?” You question, gesturing for him to take the mask off.

He follows your command, face bright red from embarrassment or alcohol. Probably both.

“Yeah, haha, hey. Really sorry about that, I can get you a new drink.” Jake turns in the direction of the kitchen before you stop him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s fine, Jake. Do you know where the bathroom is?”

Jake thinks for a moment, scratching at the small amount of stubble that’s graced his chin. He really does make a perfect Spider-Man, and if you weren’t so upset, you probably would’ve stayed and told him that.

“Upstairs, all the way down the hall. Wait! It’s occupied, people are doing coke in there, I think.”

Great.

You sigh. “Do you know if there’s another one I can use?”

“I’m pretty sure there’s one.” Jake turns, pointing to a door at the end of the hallway. “Right there. I saw a few people come in and out.”

Thanking Jake, you follow his direction and head to the door at the end of the hallway.

It’s a garage, not a bathroom. But, as long as you get a moment alone, you don’t really care where you are.

After shutting the door behind you, you sit on top of a washing machine and flinch at the cold metal sending chills down your thighs.

You shouldn’t have come out tonight, you don’t even care about Halloween to begin with. It’s an overrated holiday, you wish you would’ve convinced Minjeong to stay in with you and have a classic horror movie marathon while eating takeout and pausing to hand out (peanut-free) candy to trick-or-treaters.

Though, you’re sure you still would’ve spent the better half of the night obsessively tapping through Heeseung’s Instagram stories or trying to spot him in the background of someone else’s. It was a lose-lose situation no matter what, and you find yourself wondering if there’s an end to this unhealthy cycle.

Despite being so young when it happened, you’re sure your parents’ divorce obstructed your view of love and how a healthy adult relationship should work. Your father went on to have short-lived relationships with younger women who were using him for his money, while your mother remained single and chose to criticize her ex-husband’s current lifestyle choices. They couldn’t even co-parent in peace, always making petty comments to the other during drop-offs and pick-ups, finding any and every little thing to start arguing about.

One time in particular, after spending the weekend at your father’s house, your mother slapped him in a Dairy Queen parking lot upon realizing his new girlfriend had taken you and your sister to get your ears pierced. You didn’t actually see the slap happen, but it was loud enough to echo through the empty parking lot and hard enough to leave a red mark on his face.

The memory has tears forming in your eyes for the umpteenth time tonight, but before any of them have the chance to trickle down, the garage door swings open.

You turn, and Park Sunghoon (dressed as a police officer) is staring back at you with a confused look on his face. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before pointing in the direction of the party. “Uh, Jake said this was the bathroom.”

Shaking your head, you offer him a small smile. “No, the bathroom’s upstairs but it’s being used. If you really have to go, I’m pretty sure that door leads to the backyard.” You nod your head in the direction of the other door, and Sunghoon picks up on what you’re implying.

He thanks you before jogging over to the exit, setting his cup down on a metal dog crate before turning the knob and pushing open the door.

Sunghoon stands far enough out of frame that you only see a portion of his backside, and once the sound of him pissing on the grass hits your ears, you wonder why he didn’t bother to close the door in the first place.

Men.

He clears his throat awkwardly, “So, you s–”

You cut him off. “Let’s just wait until you’re done, please.”

Sunghoon nods, mumbling, “Right, right.”

He finishes up a few seconds later, zipping his pants back up and properly adjusting himself before returning to the garage, closing the door behind him and picking his drink back up in the process. “So, I’m guessing you’re…upset because of Heeseung?”

You let out a sad chuckle that sounds more like a sob. “Lucky guess. He’s just so fucking confusing, I can’t take it.”

“You’ll be alright,” Sunghoon responds, slipping his phone from his pants pocket and unlocking it. “Heeseung’s a douchebag.”

This catches you off guard, and you’re laughing before you even realize it. “Isn’t he your friend?”

Sunghoon shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at his phone as he scrolls. “Not really. We don’t talk much if it isn’t related to hockey or school.”

A beat of silence passes, then you ask, “When Heeseung and I were together, did he mention anything about cheating on me? Or talking to other girls?”

Sunghoon glances up at you for a split second, taking in how sad and hopeful you look before returning his gaze to the weather app he’d been using to distract himself.

He wasn’t sure if Heeseung went as far as physically cheating on you, but he was definitely talking to other girls behind your back; proudly showing the hockey team countless nudes and vulgar photos they would send him, some of them coming from your own friends.

Sunghoon can’t tell you this, you’re upset enough as it is.

“I wouldn’t know, I always tuned him out whenever he talked.”

Though he’s not sure what answer you were hoping for, Sunghoon can tell you’re a little disappointed by his response. Truthfully, he didn’t feel like getting involved in anyone else’s drama. If you wanted clarity from Heeseung, you should’ve gone straight to the source.

“Sorry,” you apologize, feeling slightly embarrassed that you probably made things awkward, “have you seen Minjeong?”

Your attempt to change the subject seems to work, because Sunghoon scoffs loudly at your question and shoves his phone back in his pocket. “Have I seen the girl that just spent ten minutes yelling at me? Yeah, we may have crossed paths.” He says sarcastically, shaking his head before taking a sip of his drink.

“Yell at you? For what?”

“She fuckin’…I guess before we broke up she said I should dress up as a cop for Halloween and I must’ve said no, and now she’s saying I only dressed up like this,” he gestures towards himself, “to spite her. Fuckin’ insanity.”

“Well, did you?” You can’t help but ask, Minjeong would always go on for hours about how spiteful of a person Sunghoon was.

He shrugs, mindlessly tracing the rim of the red solo cup with his pointer finger, “Maybe, but this is all that was left in my size at the party store.”

You’re surprised Sunghoon makes you laugh as much as he does, and maybe that’s a bad thing since it’s making you enjoy talking to him. Though he technically isn’t your enemy, he’s definitely not a person you should enjoy having a conversation with. It’s not appropriate, he’s the ex boyfriend of your best friend; all your ties to him were cut the moment Minjeong broke up with him.

You should tell him to leave, that you’re really upset over Heeseung and prefer to be alone, but you don’t. Instead, you keep the conversation going, laughing every joke he makes and completely forgetting why you were upset to begin with.

Halfway through telling Sunghoon about the horrid drink Minjeong had prepared for you, your legs grow numb from having been sat on for so long. You untuck them from underneath your body, not thinking much of it as you continue on with the story, legs dangling against the cold washing machine.

Sunghoon takes notice, though, his eyes quickly darting down to the space between your legs and the white fabric that’s suddenly visible to him due to the short length of your skirt. You miss it the first time he does it, but the second and third time are hard to ignore, especially now that he doesn’t seem to mind being caught.

You really should cross your legs or call him out on his staring. Or maybe even get up and leave entirely.

To no one’s surprise you don’t do either of those things and opt to keep your panties visible enough for Sunghoon to see while you continue to talk his ear off about his ex-girlfriend. There’s something unspoken happening between the two of you, and it’s exciting yet confusing since this is the longest conversation you’ve had with him in the two years you’ve known each other.

The strangest part of it all is that you’re just now realizing how attractive Sunghoon is, Sure, he’d always been a good looking guy, but you’d always seen him as Minjeong’s property and never paid much attention to his face out of respect for her.

But Minjeong no longer has a claim on him, and now you really notice the perfectly placed moles that graced the side of his nose and under his eye. He really was a sight to behold, you often find yourself stumbling over your words as you speak to him, becoming flustered over the intensity of the eye contact he’d been making with you.

“…my throat is still burning and it’s been, like, twenty minutes.” You say with a laugh, watching as Sunghoon finishes off his own drink.

He sets the empty cup down, licking the remaining alcohol on his lips before smacking them, “Yeah, I wouldn’t trust her in a kitchen. I’m not that good either, though. There was this one time I had to make brownies for our hockey team’s bake sale and they turned out awful. It’s like, half of them were watery and the other half were burnt. So weird.”

“That doesn’t even sound possible.”

“I’m serious! Hold on, I probably have a picture.”

It takes Sunghoon approximately forty-five seconds of scrolling through his Snapchat memories to find a photo of those godforsaken brownies, and sure enough, they really are a watery, burnt mess. Not that you can even focus on the picture to begin with now that he’s sitting next to you on the washing machine, and you’re finally able to see him up close.

Sunghoon’s words go in one ear and out the other, because now you’re close enough to smell the cologne he’s dabbed on the back of his neck, and notice the metal handcuffs hooked in his belt loop, and it makes it hard to focus on anything else. Especially his uninteresting story about those stupid fucking brownies.

When Sunghoon locks his phone, you take it as a sign that he’s finished with his story and let out another laugh, “Not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.”

“I’m a man of many talents,” he jokes, slightly slurring his words.

Maybe it’s the fact that his voice sounds deeper than usual, or that he’s staring right at you with half lidded eyes, or that he's started playing with the handcuffs on his waist, but Sunghoon looks dangerously attractive right now.

You gulp, looking down at your lap, “Well, at least one of us had a nice drink.”

Sunghoon nods, running his fingernails along your plastic raincoat, “Wanna taste mine?” He asks, eyes darting down to your lips for a split second.

If there was ever a time to get up and leave, it should’ve been now. The rational part of your brain is telling you to push Sunghoon away and return to the party and forget this encounter with him ever happened. But you can’t move, and if you’re being honest, you don’t even want to.

You’re stuck in place, heart beating out of your chest as Sunghoon leans in closer to you. You feel dizzy in the best way possible, and a part of you feels sick for enjoying the moment as much as you do.

His breath fans your cheek, and the faint scent of alcohol on it should’ve been enough to remind you that you shouldn’t be in this situation with him. Still, you don’t move.

Right before Sunghoon has the chance to kiss you, the door swings open and you jolt away from each other out of shock, clutching your chest as you watch Jake jog into the garage.

“You guys seen my vape?” he asks, a little out of breath.

“I…no, Jake. Why would it be in the garage?” Sunghoon asks, hopping down from the washing machine. He offers a hand to help you down and you ignore it, finally starting to come back to your senses.

“Dude, I don’t fucking know! It was just in my pocket and now it’s gone, it could be anywhere. Help me look!”

Spending your night in a garage helping Jake look for a strawberry-flavored vape doesn’t sound ideal in the slightest; now is the perfect time to leave.

Heading in the direction of the party, you pause when Sunghoon calls out your name, a slight shakiness to his voice. “Keep an eye out for me, yeah?”

Another beat of silence passes, then you nod and say, “Yeah.”

In your defense, there’s nothing to feel guilty over. All you did was have a conversation with Sunghoon, and keeping an eye out for him doesn’t necessarily mean anything else will happen, right?

You try not to think too much about it as you exit the garage, holding in a laugh when Sunghoon says something along the lines of, “You’re a grown ass man, Jake.”

What Minjeong lacks in cooking, she makes up for in dancing.

While you wouldn’t consider yourself to be on her level of dancing, you’d say you’re good enough to keep up with her at a crowded party. If swaying to the music, holding hands, and grinding on each other counts as dancing, that is.

“You’re too stiff; loosen up, babe,” she comments, fingers interlocked with yours.

“Sorry,” you reply, slightly frustrated since you don’t feel like dancing in the first place. “What were you saying?”

“Oh, yeah!” Minjeong turns to face you, moving your arms to drape them around her shoulders. “Then he said I was being crazy, and that he only got the costume because it was all that was left in his size, as if I believe that.”

“Sorry that happened,” you say, and it comes out more sarcastic than you had intended it to.

Minjeong takes notice of this, raising a brow at you before slipping her arms under your raincoat and pulling you closer to her. “You okay?”

The two of you are pressed so close up against each other that it almost feels romantic, and you’re sure if there was another drink in your system you’d probably lean in and kiss her.

You nod. “Just thinking about Heeseung.”

Fake offended, Minjeong’s jaw drops. “You’re dancing with the hottest girl at this party, and all you can think about is your ex? I’m hurt, YN.”

Truth be told, her ex was the one you were thinking about, certainly not your own.

Not a whole lot of time has passed since you left Sunghoon in the garage, but you make sure to keep your promise of keeping an eye out for him upon returning to the party. You’re certain that on the outside you probably look panicked and frantic, eyes darting all over the place for any sign of Sunghoon.

“Well,” Minjeong starts, tugging on your tie. “Since you’re thinking about your ex, it’s only fair that I think of mine; and there he is.”

You stop yourself from excitedly shouting, “Where?!” and watch as Minjeong subtly nods towards the staircase.

Sure enough, Sunghoon is leaning against the banister, eyes zeroing in on you with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“He’s been watching me for, like, ten minutes. Probably wants to see if you and I will make out, fucking pervert,” she says, rolling her eyes.

Minjeong has it wrong, Sunghoon has been watching you for the past ten minutes. Ever since he finished helping Jake find that stupid vape, he’s had his sights set on you and you only.

That other part was probably true, though.

You swallow the lump in your throat and say, “Such a pervert.” It comes out a tad more robotic than you were going for, but you tried your best.

Once Sunghoon is sure that Minjeong is distracted, he mouths, “Bathroom,” before immediately turning around and jogging up the steps.

Fuck, are you really about to do this?

Your eyes dart from Minjeong to the staircase, and you can’t believe you’re even considering going upstairs to meet her ex. Everything about this predicament is sick and twisted and perfectly on brand for Halloween.

But, somehow, it’s not sick enough to stop you.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna get some air; I’m feeling kinda dizzy,” you lie, hoping it’s believable enough.

Minjeong stops dancing immediately, a look of genuine concern on her face. “Here, I’ll come with you.”

“No, no. You keep having fun, I’ll be back soon. Make another drink for me, okay? I’m sure I’ll need it,” you assure her with a smile, taking her hands into yours.

“Fine, I’ll be here. But the only drink I’m making for you is a Ginger Ale.”

Thank God.

After giving Minjeong a kiss on the cheek (feeling guilty as ever), you slip past her and head towards the direction of the backyard. Once Minjeong is fully out of sight, you switch paths and sprint up the staircase, bumping into and angering a few people along the way.

You keep your head down once you reach the second floor, speed walking to the end of the hallway and avoiding eye contact with everyone you walk by until you reach the bathroom.

The door is closed and locked, of course, and that’s when it dawns on you that this could be one big, elaborate prank from Sunghoon. You could open the door and be met with a camera in your face with Sunghoon recording, laughing maniacally before mentioning something about telling Minjeong everything and that he stayed loyal to her the entire time.

Unfortunately for you, even that possibility doesn’t scare you away from knocking on the door and saying, “It’s me, YN.”

The knob twists before the door is pushed open, barely enough room to slide in discreetly, but you manage anyway.

Using your body weight to press the door shut, Sunghoon reaches behind you to make sure it’s locked. “You really came.”

You hate that he sounds shocked, as if he had some faith that you wouldn’t risk your friendship with Minjeong for a few minutes with him, of all people. He’s not even your type.

“Don’t make a big deal out of this.”

Sunghoon scoffs as if you’ve said the most obvious thing in the world. “Trust me, I won’t.”

You don’t have time to overthink the meaning of his words because before you can even realize it, Sunghoon is pushing you further up against the door, and he’s kissing you, finally kissing you.

This kiss is everything but soft, and it knocks the wind out of you. Sunghoon’s hand cups your jaw, tilting your head sideways to allow himself further into your mouth. It’s wet and sloppy, you’re certain that dancing with Minjeong was far more romantic than this. You kiss back anyway, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and grabbing a fistful of his hair, shivers running down your spine when he groans into your mouth. Without breaking the kiss, Sunghoon reaches down to slip the raincoat off of you, pressing your body closer against him to ease it off.

He pulls away slowly, his blown-out eyes focused on the string of saliva that connects your mouths to one another. “Fuck,” he groans at the sight, moving his mouth to kiss along your jaw.

You let out a moan when you feel his tongue slide against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, tilting your head back against the door. Sunghoon takes notice of this, focusing his attention on that same spot, sucking on it hard enough to leave a mark before teasingly scraping his canines along the area.

Quickly, your fingers move to unbutton your shirt, suddenly feeling warm all over. You’re only halfway done when there’s a sudden banging on the other side of the door, startling you enough to halt your movements.

“Ignore it,” Sunghoon mutters against your neck. “They’ll go away.”

They don’t go away, they actually start to bang louder and harder once a few seconds pass.

Sunghoon lets out a frustrated sigh, lifting his head away from you, “Occupied!”

“Sunghoon?” You hear Minjeong’s voice on the other side of the door, causing you and Sunghoon both to freeze.

“M-Minjeong?” He stutters.

“I have to piss,” Minjeong whines, messing with the doorknob. “Hurry up!”

Sunghoon must sense your panic and the fact that you feel like bursting into loud sobs, because he places his hand over your mouth before mouthing for you to stay quiet.

Minjeong doesn’t let up on trying to open the door, and you’re sure that with just enough force, she could probably get it open.

“I’m using it! Can’t you just go outside?”

“I’m a fucking girl, Sunghoon. Just hurry up and finish.”

“Just…just hold on a second, Minnie.”

Minnie? Fuck is that about?

Sunghoon pulls you away from the door, keeping his voice and movements as low as possible. “You’re gonna have to hide in the bathtub, just lay down flat and wait for her to leave.”

“What?! What if she sees me?!” You whisper, silently praying Minjeong can’t hear you over the music.

“She won’t, okay? I’ll pull the shower curtain back. It’s the only option we have right now unless you want to jump out the window.”

You shake your head. “There has to be a better idea.”

On the other side of the door, Minjeong begins to grow impatient, anxiously tapping her foot against the floor. She’s had three full drinks and is on the verge of busting the bathroom door down if Sunghoon doesn’t open it soon. She focuses her gaze downward, raising a brow at a piece of plastic that’s been slightly pushed under the crack of the door. What is it? A shower curtain? It can’t be, why would the shower curtain be on the floor? It looks more like…

“Fuck! The cops!” A drunk voice yells before the entire house panics, sirens and flashing blue and red lights fill the house.

Inside the bathroom, Sunghoon had still been trying to convince you to lay down in the bathtub when even more panic sets in.

Minjeong bangs on the door one last time. “Sunghoon, the cops are here, you need to leave! Fuck, I gotta find YN!” She yells before taking off down the hall.

Police officers are raiding the house, and all Minjeong can focus on is finding you and making sure you're okay, while you were seconds away from hooking up with her ex. What a fucking nightmare.

“We gotta jump out the window,” Sunghoon says, hurrying over to the other side of the bathroom and forcing the window open.

“What?! Why?!”

“People are doing fucking illegal drugs at this party, YN, and now the fucking cops are here. My dad works for the city and if-” He pauses to grunt, struggling to get the window all the way open. “-news spreads that his son was at a house party that was full of people doing fucking cocaine his career will be fucking over. Fuck!”

This doesn’t explain why you have to jump out of the window with him, but you narrow it down to the possibility of Sunghoon just wanting to be around you for a little longer. And as pathetic as it sounds, you find yourself smiling at the possibility.

Sunghoon finally gets the window fully open, quickly hiking one leg over. “It’s not that far of a jump, we’ll be fine. I’ll go first then let you know when to jump.”

“You’ll catch me?” you ask, buttoning your shirt back up. Now that the raincoat is gone, you probably resemble a perverted schoolgirl costume.

Sunghoon sighs. “Yes, YN, I am going to catch you. Just be ready to run, my car’s down the street.”

He doesn’t give you any time to protest before hiking his other leg out the window and jumping down; you watch in horror as he lands face down. If it weren’t for your current predicament, you’re sure you would’ve gotten the ick.

It takes Sunghoon a few seconds to get back up, brushing himself off before standing, “Come on! Hurry!”

Despite your hesitancy, you follow Sunghoon’s action and hike a leg out of the window, staring down at him. “Are you sure about this?!”

“If you want me to catch you, you better jump now!”

Halloween fucking sucks.

You swear to yourself as you hike your other leg out of the window, saying a quick prayer as you brace yourself to jump.

Sunghoon doesn’t exactly catch you, but he does brace your fall, which is good enough for you.

He groans in pain from the impact as you stand and dust yourself off, reaching a hand down to help him up. “Sorry!”

Sunghoon stands, feeling a tad bit dizzy and lightheaded. “Just follow me.”

It isn’t too late to turn around and find Minjeong and just leave with her. In fact, it’d be the morally correct thing to do in this situation. Not that you seem to care for morals.

You make a mental note to send Minjeong a text later as you run after Sunghoon.

Sunghoon is not that great of a driver, but this doesn't surprise you.

He's still somewhat tipsy, occasionally swerving along the empty back roads.

What makes it worse is that Minjeong has been calling and texting you nonstop, your phone practically burning a hole in your pocket as you ignore her relentless attempts.

Sunghoon is trying his hardest to stay focused on the road, but your phone ringing every few minutes was really starting to irritate him. "Just fucking answer her," he says, shaking his head.

"And say what? That I'm with you?"

Sunghoon isn't too pleased with your sarcasm and rolls his eyes, "Obviously not, YN; just do something to make her stop panicking."

That's way easier said than done, especially considering that you can barely even think about Minjeong without wanting to burst into tears. The guilt has already started to set in, and it has you questioning yourself and your morals.

You can't talk to Minjeong; it's too risky, but you can call your sister and ask her to cover for you.

Slipping your phone from your pocket, you force your eyes to unfocus and ignore the string of missed calls and messages from Minjeong, dialing your sister's phone number with trembling hands.

As always, Yuna answers on the fourth ring, sighing loudly into the phone before greeting you with a monotonous, "Hello?"

"Hey, um, I need you to help me with something," you keep your voice low, not wanting Sunghoon to hear your conversation despite being right next to him.

Yuna sighs again, "With what, YN?"

"The party I was at got raided by the cops, and we all ran, so if Minjeong calls you, I need you to tell her I'm with you," you say, your eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets when Sunghoon makes a sudden sharp turn.

"Sorry," he mutters under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

You hate that even now, you find him cute.

"Well, where are you?" Yuna asks, snapping you back to reality.

"I… it's not important, just please do me this favor."

Your sister scoffs, "You expect me to lie for you, and you can't even tell me the full story?"

"The full story isn't important, Yuna."

"Clearly, it is if you're asking me to lie to your best friend."

"Just tell her," Sunghoon groans, sounding slightly annoyed, "but make sure she doesn't tell anyone else."

Yuna doesn't have many friends, and the few she does have wouldn't even care about your drama, so it's not like she'd have anyone to share your business with. You hesitate anyway because of the principle of the situation, how just ten minutes ago you were unbuttoning your shirt for your best friend's ex. Maybe you're starting to come back to your senses because replaying the scene in your head has you cringing from embarrassment.

You lean your head against the window and squeeze your eyes shut, "I'm with Sunghoon."

The line goes silent for a few seconds, and you're worried you may have lost service from driving in such a rural area until Yuna sighs for a third time, "The pretty ones are never that bright."

"I swear it isn't like that," you plead, "just, please, help me out."

"And what will I get out of this?"

Of course, she wants something, classic younger sibling bullshit.

"Well, what do you want?"

"I don't know…a normal older sister?"

"Yuna, I don't have time for this, will you help me or not?"

Bickering with Yuna was starting to give you a headache; you were seconds away from hanging up and coming up with a new plan entirely.

"After tonight, don't involve me in this anymore; I have my own shit to deal with."

You hold back a laugh at that as if Yuna does anything other than stay home and talk to the same two people. "I won't, I swear. I'll text you when I'm close to being home; let me know if Minjeong reaches out to you."

"Whatever, just get home safe and don't do anything else stupid," Yuna says through a yawn before immediately hanging up, not giving you the chance to say goodbye.

As much as you loved your sister, the two of you weren't exactly close. The divide started sometime during high school; your interests and friend groups never really aligned and only led you to stray further away from each other.

You being fairly well-known within your high school didn't help much, either. Countless random students would approach Yuna on the daily, asking if you were seeing anyone, begging her for your number, or even giving her small gifts and treats to pass along to you.

What annoyed her the most was that they never called her by her name, in their eyes, she was always known as "YN's sister", and nothing more than that.

You're sure Yuna doesn't hate you because of it, but it certainly didn't make her very fond of you.

"What'd she say?" Sunghoon asks, interrupting your thoughts.

"She agreed to cover for me tonight," you respond, gazing out the window, "pretty sure she's pissed, though."

"She'll get over it," Sunghoon taps the navigation system on his dashboard, "type in your address."

Despite making you jump out of a bathroom window, Sunghoon technically doesn't owe you anything. He never claimed he'd bring you back to his place to finish what you started; you quite literally only jumped because he told you to, under the pretense that maybe — just maybe — he'd want to hook up with you.

Clearly, that wasn't happening, at least not tonight. Having to jump out the window and then proceed to drive while tipsy must've knocked some sense into him, making him realize he'd been making way too many questionable choices all in one night.

You let out a disappointed sigh, hesitantly reaching out to type your home address into the car's GPS. The system buffers for a few seconds as it calculates the quickest route to your home before displaying an estimated travel time of thirty-eight minutes.

"Forty fucking minutes?!" Sunghoon shouts, causing you to jump.

He sighs, cursing under his breath before reaching forward and ending the navigation route. You sit up further in the seat, ready to ask Sunghoon what he's plotting before he starts typing "7/11".

You raise a brow at this, "Why're we going there?"

Sunghoon gestures towards the navigation system as if the answer is obvious, "Your house is forty minutes away, and I'm still kinda tipsy; I'm gonna need to pull over and get something other than alcohol in my system if I'm gonna be driving for that long." There's a slight slur to his words that had you weary about him driving, so pulling over to recharge isn't a bad idea.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Sunghoon managed to safely drive the two of you to the nearest 7/11, opting to pay seventeen dollars to park in a parking garage down the street instead of the shop's personal lot.

"This neighborhood isn't that safe; I don't want anyone breaking into my car," he claims, taking up two spots as he parks in the most secluded corner possible.

The neighborhood is fairly safe; he was just being dramatic.

The walk down the street is quick and slightly awkward, with you and Sunghoon stumbling every few steps yet refusing to hold onto the other for stability.

The two of you go your separate ways upon entering the shop, Sunghoon headed straight towards the snack aisle while you make your way to the slurpee machines. The difference in your priorities was humorous, with him wanting to focus on building up energy and you wanting nothing more than a quick sugar fix.

Blue raspberry isn't necessarily your go-to flavor, but it's the only flavor on the Slurpee machine that's currently working, so you fill your plastic cup to the brim before absentmindedly reaching for a straw.

Sunghoon is still prancing around the store by the time you've finished making your drink, and despite not being that hungry, you decide to kill time by strolling through the snack aisles.

The Snickers bars and Reese's Cups look tempting as always, but you refrain, sighing as you look over the selection of peanut-contaminated candy.

"Don't even bother," Sunghoon says from behind you, causing you to gasp in shock.

He pauses for a moment, staring at the array of snacks before grabbing a pack of Skittles and walking off.

The thought of Sunghoon being aware of your peanut allergy is as comforting as it is strange. You can't imagine this is something Minjeong randomly decided to tell him, and even if that is the case, why would he bother retaining that information? It's not like the two of you are friends.

Whatever, you're probably thinking about it too much.

After deciding on a package of powdered mini donuts and Haribo gummy bears, you proceed to the checkout counter and set your items down, looking over your shoulder at Sunghoon, who was selecting the last of his items.

The man behind the counter smiles at you, typing his employee ID number into the cash register, "How's your night going?"

"Horrible," you say, making the clerk laugh even though you weren't joking.

"Sorry to hear that," he responds, scanning your items, "your total came out to…$6.12. Oh, hello, officer."

Despite not having done anything wrong, you nearly panic before remembering Sunghoon's unfortunate costume choice.

He nods at the man, setting his own items down on the counter, "Add these too. You guys take Apple Pay?" He asks, unlocking his phone.

"Oh, you don't have to pay for mine," you say, a nervous tremble in your voice.

Sunghoon shrugs, "No big deal."

Except it is a big deal. Sunghoon behaving like a boyfriend gentleman by paying for your items only made you like him even more, which is the exact opposite of what you need right now.

You sigh, taking a literal and metaphorical step back as Sunghoon taps his phone on the card reader.

"A cop and a schoolgirl, huh? These couple's costumes are starting to make less and less sense," the employee comments, eyes darting between you and Sunghoon.

"We're not a couple," Sunghoon responds, a little too quickly for your liking, but whatever.

The employee apologizes, embarrassed about his implications as he bags your items and wishes the two of you a safe trip home.

On the way back to Sunghoon's car, it dawns on you that Minjeong has stopped trying to get ahold of you, which is slightly worrisome considering that she's a person who wouldn't give up that easily.

Sunghoon climbs into the backseat this time, mumbling something about needing to rest and stretch out before driving you home. He sets the bag down on the center console, grabbing a few of his items before propping himself up against the door.

You do the same, retrieving your own items from the bag before slumping into your seat.

When you finally unlock your phone, a new voice memo from Yuna is waiting for you. Hesitantly, you hold your phone against your ear and hit play.

Yuna lets out a loud sigh, "So, you and Minjeong must have some sort of, like, telepathic connection because she called me as soon as I hung up on you. Anyways, I told her our cousin was also at the party and was able to, uh, give you a ride home once the cops came. Oh, and I told her your phone died and that you'd call her, um, later or in the morning. I'm not sure if she believed it, but she calmed down.

And, by the way, I meant it when I said I don't want to be involved in whatever this is after tonight. So, for everyone's sake, if something serious is going on, do not tell me about it. Get home safe."

You're not entirely sure if you deserve a sister like Yuna, who'd go against her own morals just to cover for you, but you're grateful you have her.

you [11:54 pm] : *you liked a voice memo*

you [11:54 pm] : thanks so much

you [11:55 pm] : i promise i wont involve u anymore. if minnie calls again u can just ignore it and lmk please

yuna [11:56 pm] : oh and she told me to let you know that she's safe. tho im sure that's not your biggest concern :/

Harsh but true.

You set your phone on your lap and tear open your pack of donuts, wiping away the powdered sugar that falls onto your blouse. Much like the blue raspberry slurpee, mini powdered donuts weren't exactly your go-to snack, but your options were limited, and you weren't in the mood to roam around the store any longer.

Suddenly, Sunghoon groans from the backseat and sits up, "Phone died."

Leaning over the center console, he plugs his phone into the car charger right underneath his navigation system, resting it on the dashboard before returning to his seat.

The car falls silent, and as much as you want to start a conversation, you're not sure where to begin. There's so much you want to ask, but you refrain, biting down on your tongue so hard you're surprised the taste of blood doesn't fill your mouth.

Sunghoon leans forward again, this time resting his cheek on the side of your seat, "What'd you get?" he asks, staring down at your lap.

You turn your head to look at him, holding up the half-eaten pack of donuts for him to see.

"Can I have one?" he asks, already holding his hand out before you could even say yes.

You hand him one regardless, watching the powder fall from the pastry as he pops it into his mouth.

Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you find yourself narrowing your eyes at him as you ask, "Sunghoon, can I ask you something?"

He nods, gesturing towards the remaining donuts in a way that tells you he wants more. You hand him the remaining three, nodding back when he mumbles "Thanks" under his breath.

"How did you know that I'm allergic to peanuts?"

Sunghoon pauses, brows furrowing in utter confusion as he looks up at you, "What do you mean?"

"Earlier in the store, I was looking at the peanut candy, and you told me not to bother. I'm assuming you must've known I'm allergic, right?" You ask, fully turning around in your seat to face him.

"Um…yeah. I know."

"Okay…how?"

"I mean, was it supposed to be a secret or something?"

"What? No, of course not. Allergies are probably the one thing that shouldn't be kept secret," you respond, "I'm just curious about how you know. I don't think I've ever told you, and I can't imagine Minjeong randomly deciding to tell you."

Sunghoon awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as he avoids looking at you. It takes the tips of his ears turning pink for you to realize that he's embarrassed, which only confuses you even further.

Sunghoon shrugs, staring down at the snack you've just given him, "Whenever all of us would hang out, and there was, like, food involved, I just noticed you'd pay so much attention to the ingredients of whatever it was you were eating. At first, I thought it was a calorie thing, but you never really asked about the calories, only the ingredients."

"But, how'd you know it was peanuts specifically?" you ask, feeling embarrassed about how curious you were over something as silly as a peanut allergy.

"Remember the hockey team bake sale? The one I made those terrible brownies for?" He asks, continuing when you nod, "You were there, and I remember how excited you were to try the cookies that Jake made, but right before you bought one, you asked him if there were peanuts in them. That's when I knew."

You can't remember the last time someone had paid this much attention to you, and it's dangerous, considering how easily impressed you are by the smallest things. Sunghoon was by no means a friend of yours; you hardly knew anything about each other and often kept your interactions rather short, so his being able to pick up on your peanut allergy just by watching you was … different. Maybe even nice.

You don't even realize you've been staring at him until he stops chewing and stares back, unblinking.

You look away, retrieving your Slurpee from the cup holder and taking a long sip as Sunghoon watches.

"Can I ask you something now?" he asks.

You don't respond, side-eyeing him as you continue to sip your drink.

Sunghoon smirks, amused by your sudden silence, "Why'd you meet me in the bathroom?"

You pull the straw away from your lips, voice barely above a whisper as you respond, "To see what you wanted."

He nods, taking the cup from your hands, "You knew what I wanted," he says, pausing to take a sip of your drink, "and you still came; why?"

When you don't respond, Sunghoon lets out a loud sigh and sets your cup back down in its holder, "It's okay, YN."

"It isn't."

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I guess we'll never know, huh?"

This is a test of your morals, and Sunghoon knows this. Every decision you've made tonight has led you to this exact moment. There's still enough time to redeem yourself and make an excuse for your actions. You could easily lie and say that making out with Sunghoon was just a result of being tipsy and vulnerable. But now, with the two of you in his car, sobering up and coming back down to your senses, you won't be able to use those same excuses.

Realistically speaking, what are the chances of your ex's finding out? Heeseung probably wouldn't care, but Minjeong was an entirely different story.

In your defense, they've been officially broken up for three weeks and three days, so you wouldn't technically be hooking up with her boyfriend. Right?

Sunghoon must've sensed the gears turning in your head because, after a few seconds of staring at each other in silence, he leaned over the center console and pressed his lips against yours.

The kiss is softer this time, nothing like how it was in the bathroom as if he's trying to coax you in and convince you it's okay, that you're doing nothing wrong.

You find yourself slipping under his spell, eyes finally fluttering shut as he gently swipes his tongue across your bottom lip. The faint taste of alcohol is still on his tongue, but he does taste much sweeter now, like the blue raspberry slurpee he'd just had. A part of you wonders if he'd done that on purpose as if tasting better would make you enjoy kissing him like this.

He pulls away, scooting farther back into his seat, "C'mere, climb over."

You do as you're told, slipping off your shoes with Sunghoon guiding you right onto his lap as you climb into the backseat. You can't help but squirm on his lap, and he can still sense a slight hesitancy in your actions, the way you shiver when he touches you, how you initially pulled back when he tried to kiss you again.

"You're nervous," he comments, eye flickering across your face.

You shrug, holding onto his shoulders for support, "I can't help it."

Beneath you, Sunghoon reaches down to unclip the handcuffs from his belt loop, "You're making it hard to focus."

"The fuck am I supposed to do, then?!" You didn't mean to shout, but your patience was starting to run thin. You felt guilty enough as it is, and Sunghoon reminding you of how nervous you are certainly didn't make it any better.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, undoing the handcuffs before grabbing your left hand. He tightens the cuff around your wrist, "Just trust me," he says simply. He sits up further in his seat, grabbing your cuffed wrist as he pulls down on the car's grab handle. He slips the empty cuff through the slot before gesturing for you to give him your free hand.

Fuck.

"Sunghoon…"

"Just trust me," he doesn't wait for a response, grabbing your wrist and bringing it up towards the empty cuff. It locks around your wrist with a click, causing him to smile in satisfaction.

You're sure that with just the right amount of force, you could easily snap the handcuffs in half, but it's the thought that counts. With your arms and hands restricted towards the ceiling, all you can do is stare down at Sunghooon and await his next movement, his very calculated movement.

He presses his cold lips against your neck, simultaneously using his hands to slowly unbutton your blouse. The mark he'd left on your neck earlier was as prominent as ever, and it pleased him to know you were okay with him marking you up like this. He swipes his tongue against the sensitive spot, hardening in his pants when you squirm on top of him.

His nails trace along the bare skin of your waist once he's finished unbuttoning your blouse, your bralette — that was a few sizes too small — fully on display for him. He's practically salivating at the site, his tongue sliding across his canines, completely in awe of your breasts spilling out of the flimsy, white material.

Sunghoon can't unclasp and slide off your bra, or else it'd be awkwardly hanging in the air, and trying to slip it through the handcuffs would take too much effort. Instead, he apologizes under his breath before his hands reach the front of your bra.

"Wait, Sunghoon—!"

Without warning, he stretches the fabric until it finally rips, seemingly pleased with himself if the cocky smirk is anything to go by. "Relax," he says, "I'll buy you a new one."

You don't have time to scold him because before you can even process what's happening, Sunghoon's tongue is swirling around your nipple. You swear at the sudden contact, arching your back and pressing your chest further into his face. It's almost embarrassing how such a simple act already had your head spinning.

His hands trail downward until they reach the hem of your skirt, slowly pushing it upwards until it's bunched around your waist. He traces the tip of his finger across your clothes cunt, pleased with how wet you've already gotten without having done much.

Your hips buck up into his hands on instinct, desperate for the friction, borderline craving it.

Sunghoon releases your perked bud in his mouth, looking up at you as he asks, "You want me to stop?"

"No, please don't." You beg.

"So this is okay then, right?"

If your wrists weren't handcuffed to the grab handle, you're sure you would've reached down and choked him for all the teasing. "Yes, Sunghoon, it's okay! Just hurry up and do something!"

Sunghoon shakes his head at you, mumbling, "So impatient." as he moves to lie flat on his back.

You stare down at him, confused, when he doesn't immediately start undoing his pants but instead positions his head right between your thighs.

It's funny, Minjeong claimed Sunghoon wasn't really into giving head and only gave it to her a handful of times during the course of their relationship, claiming he preferred to save it for special occasions.

But yet, here he is, willingly pushing your thighs further apart before pressing his lips against your clothed cunt.

The action sends shivers down your spine, and the handcuffs around your wrist suddenly feel tighter. He presses his tongue flat against you, groaning at the taste of your slick that's soaked through your panties. You grind down on him instinctively, your body trembling with anticipation as you squeeze your eyes shut.

"Fuck." You whisper, tugging at the handcuffs in frustration.

The sound of the metal clinking makes Sunghoon chuckle, pressing a final kiss against your damped underwear before mumbling, "Cute."

He makes quick work of sliding your underwear off your legs, tossing them to the

front seat with a grunt as you wait for him to continue. Sunghoon settles himself between your thighs again, groaning in annoyance as you hover over him. "Stop fucking hovering," he demands, attempting to pull you down directly onto his face, "it's fine."

It's too intimate; you've never even sat on Heeseung's face before, and you're sure this isn't something he's done with Minjeong.

"But, I don't wanna cru- fuck!"

Sunghoon dismisses your worries, forcing you down onto his face and instantly wrapping his lips around your clit. You barely have any time to process that this is completely new territory for you, being this intimate with a man, sitting right on his face while he drags his tongue along your cunt; gathering your wetness and dragging it up towards your clit before wrapping his lips around it once more.

You let out an embarrassingly loud moan at that, leaning your head against the cold window as your face heats up. This only encourages Sunghoon even further, and his confidence grows, feeling bold enough to tease the tip of his tongue into your hole.

You jolt up at this, biting back a moan and wishing you could reach down and grab a fistful of his hair and properly ride his face. He licks another stripe up your folds, gripping your thighs and holding your body in place when you try to squirm away.

"Stop trying to run from me," he groans into your pussy, the vibrations from his voice sending a shiver across your body.

He presses his face further into your cunt, moaning at how much wetter you've gotten since he's started. For a man who apparently wasn't one to eat a girl out, he sure did seem desperate and eager to have you come on his face. In fact, it almost seemed as if he was doing it for his own pleasure rather than yours, which only turns you on even more.

After a few more slides of his tongue, you finally feel your orgasm approaching, your thighs tensing around Sunghoon's head.

"I know you're close," he whispers, placing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs, "go ahead, use me. I know you want to."

He's practically begging at this point, big, wet eyes staring up at you in pure adoration as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. That's your breaking point, the knot in your stomach finally untying itself as your orgasm washes over you.

You let out a moan so loud that your throat hurts shortly afterward, your wrists going limp in the handcuffs as you ride out your high.

Sunghoon doesn't let up until you're practically shaking from overstimulation, your body naturally twitching and squirming away from his greedy mouth as he cleans you up. He pulls away finally, his mouth and chin completely coated with your slick as he leaves a trail of kisses on your bare thighs.

You can't help but stare down at him in awe; he looks completely dazed as if he's running off, nothing but pure desperation and lust for you. You.

"Sunghoon," you say, trying to get his attention, "I…do you keep condoms in here?"

He flutters his eyes open, shaking his head, "No, but 7/11's just down the street. I can go-"

You interrupt him with a shake of your head, "I don't wanna wait; we don't need one."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm on the pill. Just, please, fuck me already."

It's music to his ears, really.

Sunghoon slides himself back up the seat, reaching up to release you from the handcuffs. You groan at this, having gotten used to them and quite frankly enjoyed the temporary feeling of restriction.

"You liked the cuffs?" Sunghoon questions, dropping your wrists from the grab bar.

"Yeah," you admit, "I liked it more than I thought I would."

He nods at this, and you realize now that one of the cuffs is still clasped around your wrist. Sunghoon also notices this and smirks as an idea forms in his head. "Turn around."

You comply with no further questions, groaning when he suddenly pushes your body down into the seat. He brings your arms behind your back, handcuffing you once more as he lets out a sigh of pleasure. "I knew you'd like it."

Sunghoon pushes your skirt back up, straddling himself around your things after pulling his pants and boxers far enough to allow his cock to spring free. He steadies himself with a hand on your shoulder, using the other to teasingly drag his fully-hardened cock across your slick folds.

Sunghoon shivers at this, cursing at the sight as he repeats his movements. He knows he won't last much longer; he was practically seconds away from coming in his boxers just from eating you out, so he really should quit with the teasing for his own sake.

Minjeong had never allowed him to fuck her without a condom, so this type of intimacy was new and overwhelmingly good.

He finally pushes himself into you, his tip alone causing you to bite down on the leather of his seat. You already felt so full, and he wasn't even halfway inside yet.

"Ah fuck," he groans, "you're so tight, you're so…fuck." He can barely even form a sentence, biting down on his bottom lip as he further inches himself inside of you.

You're not doing any better, feeling as if you're already seconds away from your second orgasm when he's hardly even done anything. It takes a minute before he's fully inside of you, pausing before he leans down and asks, "Can I move?"

"Please, I need you to."

Sunghoon nods at this, pressing a kiss against your ear before sitting himself back up. He angles your hips off the seat but presses your chest further into it, giving you (and himself) the perfect arch to comfortably slide in and out.

The first few thrusts are slow, as expected, but just enough to get you used to his size. Even this was all too much for Sunghoon; he was already dangerously close to his orgasm.

He didn't intend on speeding up his thrusts already, but he really can't help it. Everything about this feels too good. The way your walls perfectly wrap around him, and the way you're moaning and cursing for him to keep going are overwhelmingly good.

"Fuck." He moans, squeezing his eyes shut as he presses you down further into the backseat. He pulls his cock all the way out before pushing himself back in, which you seem to enjoy. He does it a few more times, mostly to humor himself since it's something he assumed you would've been annoyed by.

"Sunghoon," you pant, "I'm close."

"Already?" He asks, pushing your hips downwards until you're lying flat on your stomach.

He tries to come off as cocky and frustrated, but he really is grateful you're already so close to your orgasm, seeing that he felt like he could burst at any given second.

You nod, "Please, keep going."

He doesn't respond, opting to remain silent as you pull his cock out of you before ramming it back in at a pace much harder and faster than before. His thrusts are sloppy and borderline desperate, the sound of skin slapping and grunts filling the air shortly afterward.

The two of you could hardly keep your eyes open, too lost in the pleasure of your approaching orgasms.

Your's hits first, and Sunghoon's follows shortly after, practically filling you up to the brim with his cum. You've never felt so full and warm, heat spreading through your entire body as you slowly calm down and regulate hour breathing.

Sunghoon doesn't feel like moving, but he does anyway, slipping himself out of you with a wince, watching his cum drip out of you and onto the seat of the car. He curses at the sight, stopping himself from leaning forward and eating it out of you.

He undoes both of the handcuffs this time, helping you sit up as you avoid eye contact with each other. "Hold on," he says, re-adjusting his pants and boxers, "I should have a towel or something in the trunk."

Sunghoon steps out of the car, returning a minute later with a towel in hand. He leans down, prepared to clean you up, until you stop him, "It's okay, I got it."

He shakes his head, "I can do it for you."

"It's fine," you say, buttoning up your shirt, "I'd prefer to do it myself, actually."

Sunghoon finally gives in, handing you the towel before leaning over the center console and retrieving your panties from the passenger seat. He waits patiently for you to finish up, instructing you to just drop the towel on the floor as he hands you your underwear.

"Hey, have you…do you think you've sobered up yet?" He asks, watching as you slip your panties back on.

"Yeah, why?"

"Before I met you in the bathroom, I took a few bites of an edible, and I think it's starting to kick in. I think you should drive."

You sigh, mostly because this was not at all what you'd been hoping he'd say. "Drive where? To your place? Then where would I go?"

"I can pay for your Uber home."

"Sunghoon, it's past midnight, and I'm a girl; taking an Uber this late is too dangerous."

"Then drive back to your place; I'll sleep in the car and drive off in the morning."

You groan, "No, Minjeong might visit me in the morning. What'll she think when she sees your car in my driveway?"

"Dammit, YN, then just spend the night at my place. You can take my bed, and I'll sleep on the couch; just please drive us somewhere, for fuck's sake."

Bickering with Sunghoon somehow doesn't annoy you; in fact, it feels almost domestic. Going back and forth like a real couple.

"Fine." You say, climbing into the driver's seat.

Sunghoon's phone falls off the dashboard in the process, now charged at twenty-eight percent, and apparently, a missed text from Minjeong that was sent a few minutes ago.

The jealousy that fills your chest is downright abnormal; Minjeong is your best friend; there's no real reason for you to feel jealous of her in the first place.

In fact, you shouldn't feel any sort of guilt at all; it's not like they're still together. They've been broken up for three weeks and three days.

Three weeks. And Three days.

#enhypen smut #enhypen imagine #park sunghoon #sunghoon smut #sunghoon imagine #lee heeseung #sim jaeyun #jake sim #enhypen scenarios #kpop imagine #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #sleepyhoon

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reasonsforhope · 10 months ago

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Article Link

"Minnetonka first started selling its “Thunderbird” moccasins in 1965. Now, for the first time, they’ve been redesigned by a Native American designer.

It’s one step in the company’s larger work to deal with its history of cultural appropriation. The Minneapolis-based company launched in the 1940s as a small business making souvenirs for roadside gift shops in the region—including Native American-inspired moccasins, though the business wasn’t started or run by Native Americans. The moccasins soon became its biggest seller.

[Photo: Minnetonka]

Adrienne Benjamin, an Anishanaabe artist and community activist who became the company’s “reconciliation advisor,” was initially reluctant when a tribal elder approached her about meeting with the company. Other activists had dismissed the idea that the company would do the work to truly transform. But Benjamin agreed to the meeting, and the conversation convinced her to move forward.

“I sensed a genuine commitment to positive change,” she says. “They had really done their homework as far as understanding and acknowledging the wrong and the appropriation. I think they knew for a long time that things needed to get better, and they just weren’t sure what a first step was.”

Pictured: Lucie Skjefte and son Animikii [Photo: Minnetonka]

In 2020, Minnetonka publicly apologized “for having benefited from selling Native-inspired designs without directly honoring Native culture or communities.” It also said that it was actively recruiting Native Americans to work at the company, reexamining its branding, looking for Native-owned businesses to partner with, continuing to support Native American nonprofits, and that it planned to collaborate with Native American artists and designers.

Benjamin partnered with the company on the first collaboration, a collection of hand-beaded hats, and then recruited the Minneapolis-based designer Lucie Skjefte, a citizen of the Red Lake Nation, who designed the beadwork for another moccasin style and a pair of slippers for the brand. Skjefte says that she felt comfortable working with the company knowing that it had already done work with Benjamin on reconciliation. And she wasn’t a stranger to the brand. “Our grandmothers and our mothers would always look for moccasins in a clutch kind of situation where they didn’t have a pair ready and available to make on their own—then they would buy Minnetonka mocs and walk into a traditional pow wow and wear them,” she says. Her mother, she says, who passed away in 2019, would have been “immensely proud” that Skjefte’s design work was part of the moccasins—and on the new version of the Thunderbird moccasin, one of the company’s top-selling styles.

[Photo: Minnetonka]

“I started thinking about all of those stories, and what resonated with me visually,” Skjefte says. The redesign, she says, is much more detailed and authentic than the previous version. “Through the redesign and beading process, we are actively reclaiming and reconnecting our Animikii or Thunderbird motif with its Indigenous roots,” she says. Skjefte will earn royalties for the design, and Minnetonka will also separately donate a portion of the sale of each shoe to Mni Sota Fund, a nonprofit that helps Native Americans in Minnesota get training and capital for home ownership and entrepreneurship.

Some companies go a step farther—Manitobah Mukluks, based in Canada, has an Indigenous founder and more than half Indigenous staff. (While Minnetonka is actively recruiting more Native American workers, the company says that employees self-report race and it can’t share any data about its current number of Indigenous employees.) Beyond its own line of products, Manitobah also has an online Indigenous Market that features artists who earn 100% of the profit for their work.

White Bear Moccasins, a Native-owned-and-made brand in Montana, makes moccasins from bison hide. Each custom pair can take six to eight hours to make; the shoes cost hundreds of dollars, though they can also be repaired and last as long as a lifetime, says owner Shauna White Bear. In interviews, White Bear has said that she wants “to take our craft back,” from companies like Minnetonka. But she also told Fast Company that she doesn’t think that Minnetonka, as a family-owned business, should have to lose its livelihood now and stop making moccasins.

The situation is arguably different for other fashion brands that might use a Native American symbol—or rip off a Native American design completely—on a single product that could easily be taken off the market. Benjamin says that she has also worked with other companies that have discontinued products.

She sees five steps in the process of reconciliation. First, the person or company who did wrong has to acknowledge the wrong. Then they need to publicly apologize, begin to change behavior, start to rebuild trust, and then, eventually, the wronged party might take the step of forgiveness. Right now, she says, Minnetonka is in the third phase of behavior change. The brand plans to continue to collaborate with Native American designers.

The company can be an example to others on how to listen and build true relationships, Benjamin says. “I think that’s the only way that these relationships are going to get any better—people have to sit down and talk about it,” she says. “People have to be real. People have to apologize. They have to want to reconcile with people.”

The leadership at Minnetonka can also be allies in pushing other companies to do better. “My voice is important at the table as an Indigenous woman,” Benjamin says. “Lucie’s voice is important. But at tables where there’s a majority of people that aren’t Indigenous, sometimes those allies’ voices are more powerful in those spaces, because that means that they’ve signed on to what we’re saying. The power has signed on to moving forward and we agree with ‘Yes, this was wrong.’ That’s the stuff that’s going to change [things] right there.”"

-via FastCompany, February 7, 2024

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thesilmarillionblog · 7 months ago

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𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 8

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, hurt , language, PTSD, mention of drugs, mention of torture

Word Count: 4674

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

You asked Ben again, “What did you do to those people?” while he continued to look at your furious and angered look.

He avoided watching the news and simply replied in a dry voice, “I didn't mean to hurt them. Everything happened so quickly.”

Despite your hopes that, after all this time, he would change a little, you came to the conclusion that his appearance was the only thing that had changed. He was the same guy who hurt everyone around him like they were just insects, never thinking twice about it. He remained the same merciless man who just cared about himself.

You were too ignorant to believe that it was Crimson Countess had drastically changed him, but this was simply another lie you told yourself in defense of Ben's behavior. It was just who he really was.

You talked softly while Butcher continued to watch TV, “How can you even stay the same after all the things that happened to you?”

“I killed the doctor who hurt and tortured you. You already knew; whatever I did for him, he deserved it,” he angrily said, gesturing to you as though he were doing you a favor and somehow trying to convince you.

“Should I feel like a graduate and thank you?” You questioned him bitterly, glaring at him. “You are the reason I spent decades being imprisoned and subjected to torture in vain. You are the reason I am currently homeless and the state's number two foe. How come you're still so blind and self-centered?”

Ben grumbled, “Calm down, baby,” ignoring your inquiries as he roughly grabbed the remote control out of Butcher's hand and flicked through the channels. “We can talk about things at a later time. For now, take a moment to rest.”

Ben continued to stare at the TV and shifted on the couch in an attempt to make himself more comfortable, so you replied, “Don't call me 'baby.'”

“It looks like Tony Montana is going to bed alone tonight.” With a cunning grin, Butcher attempted to reclaim the remote control from Ben's grasp. “Also, don’t be dramatic and so upset, you have a place to stay, you’re not homeless.”

“Tony Montana—who the fuck is he?” Ben muttered, pushing Butcher's hands a little too hard while refusing to give up the remote control. “I’m in charge in here. What I watch, you'll watch too.”

“Hey, you remember our deal, don't you? I'm hoping you won't back down.”

You turned to Butcher and questioned, “What deal?” with a confused gaze on your face when he suddenly started speaking in a serious and mysterious tone.

Ben stepped in immediately and shot Butcher a quick glance, saying, “It's not so important.”

“All right, there's nothing to worry about. Your teammate just promised me that he would help me kill a cunt named Homelander.”

Ben kept shooting Butcher with a deadly look as he immediately spilled the beans.

“I'm not worried about anything,” you cut Butcher off abruptly, averting Ben's tough stare. “Whatever he's up to, he's alone in this. But tell me, what’s deal about.”

“Sweetheart, I don't need your help anyway. You simply stay at home and take care of things while you chill,” Ben said in an amused way, attempting to hide his tiny sense of hurt that came from your coldness.

He didn't intend to include anything that would distress you further, but he couldn't stop remembering the times you supported and fought alongside him. He would never ask you to get involved in the Homelander situation, though, since he knows you've already been through a lot of terrible things. He was also too proud to accept your assistance.

Turning to face you, Butcher added, “You don’t have to be so ruthless. He made the deal to get help from me to save you.”

Butcher believed that, given Homelander's strength, helping him would be beneficial and that it would be great if you would just soften and offer a helping hand. Butcher knew Soldier Boy would be happy to let you fight alongside him, as he was aware that he took your suit from Legend. You were once the strongest superwoman, after all, and he would have a better chance of finally killing Homelander.

Hughie, thankfully, returned to join you with a meal in his hands before you could ask Butcher any more questions. You were so hungry that you didn't even realize it until you smelled pizza. It was all about pleasure, yet even if you starved for decades, you wouldn't die.

Hughie smiled hesitantly and said, “Sorry, I didn't ask you before ordering, but I hope you're okay with pizza.” It's likely that he was the only decent person in the room. You wondered why this person was willing to work with a man like Butcher. He gave off an air of deception.

“Of course it's okay,” you said as soon as you smelled it. You then gave him a graditude look and said, “Thanks a lot.”

Ben quickly got up, tossed the remote control in Butcher's face, and grabbed the pizza from Hughie's hands as he sat next to you before you could move. Ben stepped closer, spreading his legs a little and making contact with your thighs, but you put some distance between you two right away. You didn’t understand why he was acting like that out of the blue, but you didn’t ask anything.

None of you spoke, even though you felt Ben's gaze briefly lingering on you. Although you were unsure of what Ben truly wanted from you, you were determined to learn from your past mistakes. Therefore, it was best to clarify it for him as well.

Upon seeing Noir's visual on TV, you exclaimed in shock, “Is Noir still working for Vought?”

That was the moment you understood. Earving never came to save you. If he just wanted to, you knew he could and would find you. You could understand why he might not have wanted to take the risk of going through the same things with you if he had a legitimate reason for not saving you. You had no right to be selfish. However, you were certain that you would behave differently if he were in your place. You therefore couldn't help but feel a little let down.

Ben angrily remarked, “Of course he does,” as he watched you devour the pizza. “He wouldn't even take his shit without the permission of Vought. Fucking traitor. He didn't even give a fuck about the things you went through all those years. I had no doubts that he was going to abuse your friendship. There was always something sneaky about him.”

You couldn’t left out a small hiss as Ben started to talk about loyalty.

“All right,” you replied, casting him a piercing glance. “I got used to being betrayed.”

He aggressively exclaimed, “Don't compare me with that son of a bitch,” and launched into a self-defense tirade. “I came to save you too as soon as I was free, and I looked for you everywhere.”

“How could I ever compare you with him while I know you are worse. And yes, Ben, you're quite considerate to have searched me in the Countess' home. Many thanks for it.”

“I payed a visit to her because I knew she was most probably the one tricked you. It was nothing else.”

“Whatever,” you said back harshly. “I don’t care anyways.”

Butcher interrupted you after making a brief phone call in the kitchen, saying, “Listen here, Bonnie and Clyde. Hughie and I need to get out and meet some buddies, but if you're not going to make trouble and if you don't want to fuck in peace all night, it's best if you don't stay at home. In every other case of emergency, you need to join us.”

You hurriedly swallowed the large slice of pizza and gasped, “We won't... I mean, we wouldn't,” to Butcher. Your cheeks flushed. “It's not like we're together or anything, so don't misinterpret and talk like this, please.”

Ben leaned back to the coach and said, “Well, I'm all in, baby,” pleased to see you flushed and in a panic. “Keep in mind that. Since I'm free, I didn't even fucking jerk off once. You can use me however you like,” he stated, stretching his legs and making an attempt to brush against you briefly while grinning genuinely and invitingly.

You grumbled, “I'm trying to enjoy my meal here,” ignoring the absolute filth that was flowing from his mouth.

“All right, that's OK.” Butcher urged you to complete your dinner, saying, “You can continue eating where we go. We must leave in five minutes.”

Ben growled, “Don't fucking order her around.”

“It's fine,” you stopped eating right away. “Where we're going to go?”

“We have to get some Temp-V from Hughie's friend. It appears that we will need to use it soon,” Butcher replied, glancing at Ben. “Unfortunately, you can't beat Homeland with just one guy.”

Ben did not even respond to Butcher's crap; he only rolled his eyes. He was aware that Homelander would be the easiest to take down. He was Soldier Boy, and someone of Butcher's age wouldn't fully get who he was.

You and Ben were seated in the back of Butcher's car, and Ben was covering the whole place almost as if he wanted you to lean into his body. He was always on the move, both his hands and his legs, and occasionally you would think he looked a bit bashful if you didn't know just how arrogant he really was. Somehow, you sensed the uncertainty, but you didn't look him up or ask him questions.

You couldn't help but feel confused and depressed as you gazed out of the car window at the enormous, gleaming structures. You no longer felt like you belonged in the world because so many years had passed in a tiny little cage. It seemed as though no one knew you, cared about you, or you had no place to stay. It's not your world, but rather other people's, that you see when you peek out the window.

You said, “Everything looks so different,” as a sense of melancholy took over you.

“Not at all,” Ben remarked in an arrogant tone, as if he had figured out everything in a single day. “I've learned many things; I will teach you all; don't worry.”

You challenged him, casting him a skeptical glance. “What do you know?”

“Well, I might teach you a thing or two because you're too eager to learn. For instance, GPS and the Internet were quite helpful in helping us learn about you and the place you were kept,” he added with pride as he smiled at you and waited for your reaction.

You whispered, “You're just making those words up,” unsure if he was trying to trick you.

“Those words are real words. I had said the same to that fuckface; believe me, sweetheart,” he continued, giving Hughie a harsh shoulder pat. “Hand over your damn android phone to me.”

Hughie murmured in distress, “Oh, God,” as Butcher nodded awkwardly and gave him an odd look. “Just don’t break it or something, please.”

Hughie handed his phone reluctantly to Ben, who took it with a swift move, and Ben used it like a pro, tapping the screen quickly. When he wrote down his name and yours on the screen called 'Google', your eyes widened open as you saw a ton of images and details about the two of you, Payback, and everything else.

Captivated by what Ben showed you, you muttered, “Everything about us is written down there.”

“See,” he declared with pride, chuckling at your bewildered response. “I told you I was very well-informed. The name of this one is Internet.”

You challenged him again, interested in learning more about this small device, which seemed to know a lot of things. The modern world is unquestionably something else, with easy access to knowledge at any time and about any subject matter.

“I am familiar with social media. If you don't want to be identified by your real identity, you can put up a fake profile and follow anybody you want. I made one for the two of us as well.” Ben responded, seeming proud of everything he had achieved with a cunning smile on his face.

You pretended to understand everything he said as you asked, “And what's your fake name?”

“It’s ‘soldierboyy/n69.' Pretty creative, isn't it?”

“Oh my gosh, Ben,” you said, pushing the phone and his hands in an annoyed tone as your face turned red. “Everyone will know that it is you. I shall be accused of having once again supported your actions if they find out the identity of your account. Why do you act so carelessly?”

“Everyone has those fake names,” Ben said, grimacing at how much you disapproved of what he had done. Nobody will find out because I'm not using it anyway."

He intended to show you that he never thought of himself apart from you and that he thought of you even while he was setting up the account, but all he managed was to distress and upset you once more. Observing your defensively crossed arms on your chest, he sighed and moved his strong arms to your seat in an attempt to get close to you.

“How are you so sure?” you asked as he handed over the phone to Hughie in a rude manner.

“Because that's the way the modern world works, sweetheart. Nothing and anyone are real when it comes to Internet.”

“Indeed,” Butcher said, glancing at the two of you through the mirror. “He is right; no one will find out. It's not really a big deal; trust me, if it were, I would have problems as well because of him.”

You cut it short, closing your eyes and lowering your head to the seat. “Okay,” you mumbled.

It was as though some odd numbness overcame your body, leaving you exhausted and unbalanced even after decades of sleep. It was most likely due to the quantity of sleep that your body became accustomed to, and it's also possible that you were experiencing a side effect from what you experienced in the lab. Nonetheless, it didn't concern you because you knew you still had your strength. You only needed to get a bit more rest. As you closed your eyes to give your body a break until you got there, you inhaled deeply.

You slowly opened your eyes, feeling Ben's gentle touch on your cheek, and heard him say, “You really turned into sleeping beauty, didn't you?” in a lighthearted manner.

“Have we arrived?” you muttered as you opened your eyes and noticed his intense gaze on you. The moment Butcher and Hughie slammed the car door, you immediately fully came to your senses.

Ben nodded, confused, not knowing how to react to your coldness as you gently moved his hands away from your face.

Ben and you had just followed Butcher and Hughie to the small, slightly desolate house. You looked around the room, and the other two women, who were glancing at you warily, exchanged glances. You could tell they were supes, just like you, from the whiff of Comp-V in their scents. You were a little nervous because you had no idea what their intentions were toward you. You had no friends or someone to rely on anymore, and you were a stranger to everything after all.

“Ladies, how are you doing here?” Butcher grabbed a glass of whiskey from the kitchen and inquired as he sat down right away on the closest couch.

“I can't believe you and you especially you Hughie,” the blonde remarked angrily. “You two really set them both free, and you forced me to take so much Temp-V; we're going to be caught. It's only a matter of time.”

“So you're the supe woman that bottom-faced guy pounding?” Ben aggressively exclaimed, pushing the short-haired man to the right while he snatched a cola from the refrigerator. “And the one who works for Vought when you're not getting off and doing other things.”

“Stop it, Ben,” you said in a warned tone as his abrupt aggression caused the air to thicken.

“Why don't we just sit down and have a nice chat?” Hughie looked at you anxiously, as if you wanted to soothe Ben before anything happened.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he said, flashing you a cunning grin when he spotted you approaching him, and you gave him a cold look while he sipped his coke in joy.

“Well, Annie, that it wasn't in vain. Soldier Boy and I struck very useful bargain, didn't we?” Butcher inquired, glancing back to Ben with a sly smile. “We're going to kill Homelander together.”

You felt uneasy, and your thoughts turned to the Homelander once again. Even if you didn't care about Ben at all, you couldn't help but feel concerned because you were both strangers to Vought and the outside world now that Ben had gotten into so much trouble. Not only did you not want to return to the lab, but you also didn't want Ben to go through the same painful experiences. Even though he had been vile to you, you didn't want him to suffer forever in Russia.

Annie replied, “You should have told me, Hughie,” casting a disappointed glare at her boyfriend. “You’re so acting strangely these days.”

Hughie insecurely responded, “I know, I know,” rubbing her cheeks. “And I’m really sorry for it. It won’t happen again.”

The man with short hair said, “You all know that they both are being searched by the government, right?”

Butcher shot back, “Of course we all fucking know that, Frenchie.”

Annie looked at you and said, “Well, I guess Y/N's situation is worse,” while you stood by Ben, watching him carefully to make sure he didn't suddenly lose his temper and start some serious drama. “Well, she's a known traitor after all.”

You immediately defended yourself by saying, “I'm not a traitor,” and you were enraged at her haughty demeanor. Despite her lack of knowledge, she was constantly talking about things she had no idea about. “Vought only spread lies and caused us pain in order to build up the next generation, which is your generation. They tortured me for years just because I wanted to quit.”

Annie's expression softened as she realized that Vought would do something like that and that she was having trouble as well in Seven. She then apologized to you by looking at you and sincerely saying, “I'm sorry to hear that.”

She went on, making an effort to get you to see how complicated the situation was, saying, “But you need to understand that no one will believe you. For all this time, you have been regarded as a spy for the entire world. The same remains for Soldier Boy.”

“What is your point?” Ben cut her off with a harsh voice.

Ben was becoming mad at those morons; they were just some stupid kids who liked to order other kids around, but he was a man, a true leader, the strongest supe to live, and they had no idea what him and you had been through or who had been in charge decades earlier. He was already becoming a little tense about that blonde's cunning ideas, so he realized he had to proceed with caution going forward. He had to watch out for you too, in order to keep you safe.

With defensive hands on her hips, Annie retorted, “The thing is, it's best if you don't see each other for a while. I can help you spend a week in various secure locations, separated.”

Ben abruptly tensed up, enraged that the blonde had already made plans in her cunning mind to keep him away from you. “No fucking way,” he said. He was certain that those fucked-brains would propose something so incredibly moronic.

Even if it made sense, you realized those new guys weren't to be trusted as they were strangers. It was true that you needed some alone time apart from Ben, but for the time being, it was preferable to ignore what you’re told.

“Everyone is talking about what happened in New York and Ohio,” Annie said furiously. “I’m just asking you two be hidden for a week. Everything’s already complicated in Vought and I have my own problems.”

“Look, sneaky woman,” Ben hissed, “I don’t give fuck about your problems or anything at all. If you ever suggest such thing, you won’t have a head to think such idiotic things anymore. I’m warning you.”

“Ben, you need to calm down,” you said. You scowled at the feeling that his chest was unusually heated compared to normal.

Frenchie agreed, saying, “Y/N is right; there is no need to fight each other.” The supe woman next to him smiled and patted his shoulders.

Butcher responded, “Annie is right too, though,” as he examined the Temp-V carefully on his lap. “Too much attention has been paid to Soldier Boy during the past three days. We are also doomed if he is seen soon enough.”

“They could be right,” you acknowledged, nodding to Butcher, understanding that his points were reasonable. Since you and Ben were currently the state's number one and two foes, you also didn't want to get into any sort of trouble.

Ben cursed, “Fuck that,” and he gave Butcher a menacing stare. He got offended at the fact that you instantly agreed with them but not with him. “I didn't realize I had done business with so many jerks. If you're that afraid of what's ahead, I might accept your suggestion, but Y/N is staying with me.”

“Calm down, buddy. Why are you so obsessed?” Butcher questioned, putting the bag down from his lap.

When you realized Ben was about to start an argument without reason, you asked him, “Why are you being like this?” in an irritated tone.

“Are you saying that you're prepared to follow those fuckfaces' instructions?” While you could tell he was angry, he inquired quietly, “What's wrong with you?”

Ben set down the coke and paid no attention to Butcher's irritating remarks. Instead, his attention was drawn to you. The fact that you didn't trust him but did trust the new people you had met most disturbed him. It was not them who saved you, but it was him who considered your safety and future. Still, you were ready to follow what they had to say. You'd been away from each other for a long time, so there was no reason to spend another minute separately.

“I'm not saying anything, Ben. I just want you to quit being irrationally dissatisfied and to be reasonable.”

Butcher sighed as he watched you start to debate, but Annie grasped Hughie's arm and guided him to another room to have a conversation.

Ben stated, “I'm not getting angry for no reason,” while attempting to stay controlled.

Despite Ben was desperate to touch you, he restrained himself since he knew that you two needed to have discussed the situation before acting on it. How in the world was he supposed to talk to you properly after a week apart? “I'm just saying, we don't have to spend a week alone and separated,” Ben said with a low voice.

Your eyes wandered around everywhere except for him.

“I'm not sure, Ben,” you teased him, feeling hesitant about his response. “Maybe we should.”

“How can you be sure that those people won't imprison you to a metal box once more? Do you really want to go back to that lab? You're saying you have faith in them, but not in me?”

You angrily gasped, “Don't you ever talk to me about trust. I would never make the same mistake by trusting you again.”

He tried to calm himself down, saying, “I'm the only one who saved you,” but the heat inside his chest kept growing.

“Will you stop arguing?” Butcher got up and asked, watching Ben trap you against the kitchen table while grinning at Ben and sipping his whiskey. “She obviously wants to be by herself for a while. Would you please just accept her decision and let her to enjoy herself?”

Ben angrily remarked, “Mind your fucking own business; we are fucking having a conversation here.”

You stopped disputing with him and cast a puzzled glance at his chest as soon as you felt the warmth in his chest increasing once more.

Butcher said, “It's like you're forcing her for something she doesn't want to though. Don't be such a drama queen,” ignoring Frenchie's warnings. “She might just want to spend time alone in a nice place and fuck with some hot dudes, savor the time she missed all those years.”

Ben snarled, turning to face Butcher and ignoring you this time. “Watch your fucking language," he growled. “If you say one more word, I fucking swear I'll rip your heads off.”

Ben's chest began to glow suddenly before he could finish his sentence, and your eyes widened, sensing the anxiety and the heat coming from his body.

“Ben,” you whispered quietly, uneasy with his rage and the anguish on his face, as if he tried to maintain self-control.

With an expression of fright on his face, Frenchie and the supe woman next to him also retreated a step. “Calm down, buddy,” Butcher muttered. “Let's not cause another accident. You've already done enough damage, huh. ”

But Ben's chest continued to glow, alerting you. “Hey, what's wrong with you?” you asked as you walked up to him, stroking his arms and then his face and making him to look at you.

He snarled, “I can't hold it,” and shoved your hands away right away. “Stay away from me.”

Instead of following commands, you remained in the same spot and continued to massage his upper arms in an effort to soothe him though you got extremely anxious. Then, in the hopes of calming him down a little, you put your hands on his burning, hot chest. Even if there was smoke slightly arising from his body, your hands felt chilly.

You whispered, “It's okay,” feeling his temperature drop beneath your fingertips gradually.

Next Chapter

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

A/N: Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! -`♡´-

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Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series. -`♡´-

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daughterofcain-67 · 2 months ago

Text

𝑅𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝐻𝑒𝓇𝑒

(Beau Arlen x Female Reader)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after getting dumped by a guy you'd been talking to, you decided there wasn't much of a point in looking for love. You were better off just staying home and drinking while watching your comfort shows. well... perhaps the sheriff may be able to change your mind.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader gets dumped, alcohol, friends to lovers, smut MINORS DNI, Soft!Dom Beau, pet names (Sweetheart, Darlin(g) Princess, etc.) oral (fm receiving), cuffs, unprotected intimacy (reader's on birth control). Overstimulation. I think that's it???

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hey guys, bare with me as this is my second smut. If anyone has any tips on how to better my writing when it comes to this sort of content please feel free to comment. Any advice is appreciated.

What was the point of getting all dolled up for someone that wasn't even going to give you the time of day?

You'd been trying to go on some dates here and there since it had been a while since you'd given it a shot. Besides, everyone deserved to have a little love in their life right? Why would you be an exception? You had plenty of things to offer. You were smart, and you were at least decent looking. Granted, you were no model or anything like that, but you didn't look like a potato grew arms and legs or anything. You took care of yourself, you were educated and had a decent job that you actually enjoyed. You thought you had a pretty good sense of humor and you at least tried to get along with everyone you met.

So what was stopping you when it came to finding a long term relationship?

About two months ago you downloaded a little dating app that Jenny Hoyt was telling you about. She recommended it because she claimed it was helping her at least talk to more people before she got back onto the dating scene. Now she was in a relationship with someone who was also a Private Investigator.

If it worked for Jenny, why couldn't it work for you?

So you gave it a shot.

A few days after you had downloaded the app you had started talking to a guy. His name was Preston. You didn’t expect anything to happen so fast and you didn’t want to get attached. Quick attachment was both dangerous and a little unrealistic, but you still found yourself getting excited to message him and you smiled every time you got a notification from him. When you two called you started to grow fond of hearing his voice before you went to bed. He had an adorable southern drawl that sounded like he was from the southern part of North Carolina and it cute whenever he said your name over the phone.

The both of you had even video called on numerous occasions so you knew what he looked like and he knew what you looked like. He was handsome and you thought the two of you would make the cutest couple if he ever asked you to be his girlfriend. Honestly you thought you could even be willing to move out of state just to be closer to Preston if things ever got serious.

The past two months flew by so fast and you were growing more and more fond of Preston. When he said he was going on a road trip and Montana was one of his stops, he said he wanted to meet you in person and that there was something he wanted to tell you. That excited you even more and you couldn't wait to find out what he wanted to say!

Preston told you when he was finally in Montana that morning and he would see you in a couple of hours. You had told him which diner to meet you at and when the time came you were practically on the edge of your seat. But as the time went on, he was about ten minutes late - which was fine, you had assumed maybe he got lost.

Then ten minutes became twenty. Then thirty. Then three hours suddenly flew by and that was when you finally got a notification on your phone.

The message Preston left you was heart breaking.

"Y/N, I'm sorry to have to do this... I wanted to tell you in person but I'm not good at this kind of thing. I just don't think we can work out. I just don't think we can really be that compatible with each other. It was nice talking to you, but it's time to move on... I'm sorry"

Before you even had the chance to type out a response, Preston had blocked you on practically everything. You couldn't even ask if there was anything you could do to at least try changing his mind.

And all of this brings you to where you are now...

With slightly puffy eyes and a reddened nose, you had just entered the closest liquor store. At least now you could see since the tears had stopped for the time being. You were roaming around the aisles, trying to decide how fucked up you wanted to get that night since you didn't have anything to do tomorrow. Then you heard a familiar voice.

"Y/N?"

You glanced over and you saw one of the sweetest women known to mankind was in the liquor store with you. Denise had the biggest smile on her face as she walked over in your direction, but her smile faltered the closer she got and her brows knitted with concern. That was your sign she must've noticed you'd been crying in your car for the past thirty minutes.

"Awe, sweetie.. you look terrible! Did something happen? Is there anything I can do to help?" She asked and you shook your head a little.

"Thanks, but no ma'am. It's just some allergies." You lied, though you doubted it was a believable story.

Nevertheless, the assistant at Dewell and Hoyt Private Investigations pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose before adjusting her cardigan a little but the look of concern never left her face. You had told her you were talking with someone on the phone, so she knew you had some little app like Jenny had and Denise had been so excited for you. It had been a while since she'd seen you happy over a boy.

"Allergies... Sweetie if it's allergies, I don't think those wine coolers will do the trick if it's an allergic reaction to a fractured heart." She frowned and you could feel your eyes water again and you looked down at the wine coolers you'd been looking at when she noticed you.

"Recommend anything a little stronger?" You asked, trying not to have your voice crack.

Denise frowned a little, but she took you by the hand and the two of you walked over to a different section.

"What are you doing here anyways, Denise? I didn't take you for a drinker." You said and the woman smiled a little.

"I was just picking up wine to cook with. Then maybe another bottle to have a glass with a good book." She admitted, causing you to grin a little.

When the two of you made it to the selection of vodkas, you started looking at the different brands before you picked up a bottle of Absolut Vanilla and you looked over at Denise.

"I hope your cooking goes well. You'll have to tell me what you made next time I come over to the PI's office and see you." You said and Denise nodded.

"Just make sure you message me when you get home. The waterworks is dangerous for driving too." She warned and you chuckled a little before you nodded. Even when your heart was broken, this woman could still somehow make you smile.

"I will." You promised.

"The ache will pass, sweetie. There's plenty of people out there waiting for the right one, even some locals." She said and she gave you a soft hug, which you returned. Then when she let go, she gave your arm a little reassuring squeeze before she walked off to the wine section.

As for you, you went to the register and bought the bottle you wanted before you walked out of the store, paper bag in hand. Finally, you could go home and drink in peace and try to forget all about this disaster, forget about love altogether even.

Beau was sitting down at is desk, gaze downcast at the paperwork he'd been filling out related to an investigation that's been closed that afternoon. It didn't help much that his back ached because he had to chase a perp on foot that afternoon since he was a suspect for a different case.

Just as he closed the file, Beau heard his phone beginning to ring. He groaned a little to himself before he took his phone and looked at the caller ID only to grin when he realized it was Denise. He answered the call and lifted the phone to his ear.

"Denise! I thought you'd be at home relaxing, what are you doing calling me so late?" Beau asked as he looked at the computer screen in front of him to look at the rest of the work he needed to do.

"Hey Beau, on your way home tonight can you do me a favor? It's about Y/N."

Once Beau heard your name slip through the speaker he stopped what he was doing so he could pay attention to Denise.

"What's going on with her? Is she alright?"

"Calm down, Cowboy. She's okay. I just need you to do a little wellness check on your way home tonight."

Beau looked at the time on the computer screen and he realized he was about to head home anyway after printing off some work he could take with him, "Looks like you caught me at a good time. I'm about to head out in a few minutes anyway. When did you last hear from Y/N?"

"Oh just a few minutes ago here at the liquor store. I was picking up some cooking wine when I saw her and Beau.. she really needs someone to talk to. She wasn't hysterical or anything, but she does seem to have an easier time talking with you about things." Beau rubbed the back of his neck at Denise's words.

"I'm not sure what gave you that idea." Beau chuckled a little but Denise scoffed.

"Oh don't give me that. You and I both know better than that." She said.

"If you say so. But I can stop by before heading home tonight." The sheriff promised with one last chuckle.

"Thanks Beau. I knew I could count on you. I'll talk to you soon, 'kay?" And with that, Denise hung up the phone.

Beau shifted his eyes at a picture on his desk. It was an image of you, him, Denise, Jenny and Cassie. The five of you had taken that after a state fair the previous year. He'd originally gone alone that year since he wanted to find something to do that night since it had been your day off. Then he ran into you since you were by yourself too. Then somewhere along the way you both had ran into Cassie, Jenny and Denise and the five of you spent that evening together.

You had always been sweet to him ever since he came into town. The both of you hit it off pretty well and he'd ended up inviting you to several movie nights whether it was with just him or if it was with Jenny, Cassie and Denise included. And all of this was while Beau was here as a temporary sheriff, but the more he was around you, the more Beau was finding a reason to stay here indefinitely.

Beau had to admit, he had a soft spot for you. Well, maybe it was more than just a little spot but he didn't think you'd be interested so it's just better if he put those feelings on a shelf. And if Denise called him to do a wellness check on you, something must've been wrong.

Beau got up from his desk after he'd started printing off whatever he needed to and he shut off the computer. Once he had everything together, he grabbed his jacket and paperwork that was now in a folder and he was out of the door before he made it to his car.

Finally, after leaving the station Beau made it to your house. He parked the car and got out before he started looking around the premises just incase something was wrong. Nothing seemed to be out of place, and there didn't seem to be any red flags when it came to the exterior of the house but he wanted to be thorough. When he walked up the porch he noticed the door was closed so it's not like anyone broke in from what he noticed. So Beau lifted a hand and gently knocked on the door.

He heard the sound of a TV going as well as a thump and Beau heard you curse from the other side of the door. A couple of seconds later the door opened up and Beau saw you rubbing your shin a little before standing upright. You were wearing nothing but a hoodie and some biker shorts, your hair was in a messy bun and he could tell you were trying to recover from crying, though you'd taken your makeup off already so the mascara wouldn't run down your face.

"You okay, Darlin?" Beau asked and he caught a whiff of some alcohol on your person.

"Yeah, just hit my shin getting up from the couch. Something I can help you with Beau?" You asked as you leaned your head against the door.

Beau noticed your cheeks were a little red but you were still able to annunciate your words. So maybe you were a little buzzed since you didn't seem to be drunk at the moment. You still had your senses about you, at least he hoped so.

"Um.. Denise asked me to check up on you. She seemed worried about you. Is... it okay if I come in?" Beau asked and you nodded a little before letting go of the door and you started walking back over to the couch.

"She really shouldn't be worried. I'm alright." Beau heard you say as he shut the door. Then he walked over and sat down beside you on the couch.

"Sweetheart, a person that's 'okay' doesn't just show up teary eyed at a liquor store intent on drinking alone." He replied and he turned the bottle around to take a look at what you were drinking.

"And drinking vanilla vodka no less. I might've gone for whisky myself." From the corner of his eye, Beau watched you shrug a little. Then he sat up again and looked at you.

"So... you gonna tell me what's going on?"

You sighed a little as you took another sip of the vodka before setting your glass down. You stared blankly at the TV that was just playing an episode of Friends since you weren't sure what else to put on.

"It's stupid. You'll think it was a waste of time for Denise to even have told you to come and check on me." You said and Beau put his hand on one of yours, covering the top of it.

"It's not a waste of time. Whatever you're going through, it matters. No matter how big or small the issue is, your feelings matter. You don't need to invalidate yourself because you think it's a waste of someone's time."

You looked at him, not sure why he felt the need to tell you something like that. But whatever the reason, you could tell Beau was being genuine with you. Then again, you couldn't exactly recall a time when he ever lied to you about anything.

You sighed a little and you looked down at your phone that was laying on the coffee table next to the bottle of Absolut. The screen was black since you'd turned it off after letting Denise know you were home. Would Beau really care if you told him everything? Might as well tell him since he was here.

"It's just... I should have known dating apps were stupid and this guy was too good to be true." You said, then you proceeded to explain why you got the app in the first place and the ordeal with Preston that evening.

"Wait, if he wasn't going to tell you in person, why bother coming to Montana at all on his road trip?" Beau asked and you shook your head.

"I don't know...."

Beau softened at the defeated tone in your voice. He reached out and wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him. You didn't resist and Beau felt you relax against his touch as he placed a soft kiss on your head.

"I'm just so tired of being alone.... This isn't where I wanted to be in life right now." You said.

"And where did you think you'd be?" Beau asked as his fingers started running through your hair softly as he massaged your scalp.

"I thought that if I wasn't married by now... I'd at least be in a serious relationship with the right guy. Like yeah I'm independent, I have a great job and it's not bad living by myself. It's not like I desperately need to have a man in my life but.. being alone gets tiring. It just sucks after a while." You began.

"It gets too quiet in the house sometimes and it's just nice to have someone to come home to. It's nice to actually feel wanted by someone. I thought I'd be in a relationship with a guy that if I'm home before he is after work, I could be in the kitchen doing whatever task and he'd be the guy to surprise me out of the blue with some flowers, maybe he'd turn off the water if I'm in the middle of dishes and he'd pull me into his arms and dance with me right there in the kitchen just because we could." You continued and you could feel your eyes starting to water up and burn with tears again.

"But that shit's not in the cards for me and I get it now. I must be defective or something." You scoffed and got up from leaning against Beau, rubbing one of your eyes with the palm of one of your hands. Then you reached over to grab your glass again but then a large hand grabbed your wrist, preventing you from drinking anymore.

You turned your head to look over at Beau, who's gaze seemed to soften and he pulled your wrist softly which caused you to stop reaching over for the vodka. Then you felt him let go of your wrist and he reached up before he started wiping whatever tears you'd missed from your cheeks.

"You aren't defective. Far from it." Beau spoke with such sincerity that you almost wanted to believe it.

"You're saying that because we're friends..." You rolled your eyes and looked away at the TV screen.

Beau's jaw tensed and he cupped your face in his hands before he made you look at him again.

"I'm not just saying that. You should know by now that I wouldn't lie to you." he insisted and you looked down at the space in between you.

"Then what's wrong with me?" You whispered and closed your eyes, doing your best to stop anymore tears from forming. You were so tired of crying, tired of feeling this way.

Beau watched you divert your gaze away again but this time he didn't force your gaze to look at him. Instead, he carefully pulled you into him again and let your head go back to his shoulder.

"Nothing is wrong with you, Y/N. I hate that some random asshole on a stupid app made you feel this way. Any guy would be lucky to be with you. It would be a privilege to be with someone like you. You have so much to offer, and if what's-his-face couldn't see that then all it means is he's to ignorant to realize what he walked out on, or he's clearly incapable of seeing a good thing even when it's right in front of him like other people." Beau said as his hand rested against the back of your head.

"I just feel like whatever person I'm supposed to be with is just stuck in a different timeline. I can't find him no matter how hard I try." You sighed, but this time your voice didn't sound quite as broken which was something you were grateful for.

"Maybe.. maybe you just need to look in a couple of different places. Or maybe..." Beau trailed off, nearly hesitant.

"Maybe..?"

"Maybe... the sort of person you're looking for might be closer to you than you think they are."

You slowly lifted your head from Beau's shoulder and you looked at the sheriff. Your eyes met with his and there was a lingering silence between you before you found yourself looking at his lips. Would it be wrong of you to wonder what his lips would feel like against yours?

You looked up into his eyes again and placed a soft hand on his chest, "Maybe... you could help me look in the right places for that person."

Beau nearly couldn't believe his ears, and the way you were looking at him almost made him wonder if he was dreaming this up in this head. Maybe he was at the station again slumped over sleeping at his desk or something.

The moment you started getting closer, Beau relaxed and put a hand on your cheek, "I'll show you more than that, Darlin... only if you let me."

After you nodded, Beau slowly leaned in before his lips barely grazed over yours, giving you a chance to pull away if you had second thoughts. You, on the other hand, put a hand on his cheek before deepening the kiss and let him know there wouldn't be second thoughts.

The kiss started sweet, slow and gentle. Beau was so careful with you, almost like he was scared he'd break you but he loved the way your lips felt against his own. You loved how sweet Beau was with you in this moment and you couldn't help but melt all because of a kiss. You didn't know how long you've been kissed, but this felt more right than anything you'd done before. But it wasn't long before the swirling feeling in your stomach made you want a little more.

With your lips still attached, you slowly moved to where one thigh went over Beau's lap and the next thing you knew, you were on top of him. He placed one of his large hands on your thigh while the other was behind your neck as if trying to pull you closer into the kiss. You could tell he was still trying to be careful and not push any boundaries, so you reached down and moved his hand from your thigh and pulled it up to where it was on your hip and you slid forward into him so where both your cores touched.

Beau let out a soft groan against your lips before he pulled away and he looked up at you again. You looked down at him, confusion on your face.

"Is something wrong?" You asked.

"Nothing's wrong, Sweetheart. It's just that.. you've been drinking and I don't want this to turn into something you regret later on. Are you sure this is something you want?" Beau asked.

"Beau, it takes a lot more than a glass and a half of vodka to make me delirious and incapable of making decisions with a sound mind. You caught me before I got to that point and I'm okay right now. Whatever happens tonight... I won't regret it. It'll be a sober choice so there's nothing for you to feel bad about. I promise." You reassured in a whisper, then you leaned in and kissed his cheek.

After that, Beau seemed to be a little less tense beneath your touch now that he knew you were sober enough to consent to whatever would happen next. The last thing he wanted to do was take advantage of you and make you uncomfortable. Beau leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your shoulder before he started kissing up your neck gently. He smiled against your skin at the way you'd giggle at the way his beard would tickle your neck.

"Ticklish, are we?" He asked and you blushed a little.

"Maybe just a little sensitive." You confessed and Beau hummed a little before he leaned in and kissed you again.

This time, with this kiss Beau seemed to have more certainty in his actions. He was still just as gentle as before but this time it was like he had a little more ambition. It was more than a chaste kiss to start. He tilted his head and you could feel the tip of his tongue lightly graze your bottom lip as if asking permission to slip inside. As soon as your lips parted, you felt his tongue slip past and he kissed you deeply like it was his personal mission to take your breath away.

As he kissed you, you could feel your heartbeat hasten. Goosebumps were starting to form on your arms with the adrenaline you were beginning to feel. You hadn't been kissed like this in so long that you'd practically forgotten what it felt like. Your cheeks were heating up and your hands went to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair at the base of his neck.

Beau loved the way your fingers felt in his hair. If he could melt in your arms he could right then and there and he didn't want this feeling to go away. You kissed him back with passion and he was glad things didn't seem to be one sided at least for tonight. You deserved to be loved, deserved to be shown just how beautiful you were.

He slowly let one of his hands slip beneath your hoodie and he realized you weren't wearing a shirt underneath. The second he felt your skin beneath his fingertips he felt like he could get lost in you. What caught him by surprise though, was when you wrapped your pretty lips around his tongue and sucked on it softly. It was like you were trying to make him lose all the self control he had.

Beau placed his hand on the small of your back and pulled you closer to him, letting your cores touch again that way you could feel exactly what you were doing to him. You moaned against his mouth and around his tongue before he pulled away from your lips.

"Rock..."

You were just as breathless as Beau was but all it took was that simple word and you knew exactly what he wanted you to do. You slowly began to move your hips and you could feel the hardness beneath his jeans against the thin material of your biker shorts. You were already beginning to feel his affect over you but this took things to a different level as you felt him against your clothed core. He already felt so hard and so big and rocking against him like this was enough to drive you crazy.

Your thighs were already beginning to shake when Beau put both his hands on your hips and pulled you down herder against him. You moaned softly as he moved your hips and you felt even more of him and once Beau hit a certain spot, you gripped down on his covered shoulders.

"B-Beau..."

"Steady now, Sweetheart. Keep going. You can do this." He said sweetly though his movements were getting faster and he started to move his hips up into you.

You were beginning to moan a little louder as you continued to let Beau rub your cunt against his bulge and your thighs were shaking a little more and you gripped down harder on his jacket. Your movements were becoming more erratic and you were so close to coming undone.

"Beau, I'm-"

"Go ahead, Princess. Don't hold back."

As soon as he said those words, you came undone in your biker shorts. You could feel the wetness soaking the clothes between your legs as your core throbbed around nothing. Your legs shook against him, but Beau let his hands gently rub over your thighs in a soothing fashion.

"I'm so sorry... that's so embarrassing." You said and hid your face in your hands, causing Beau to chuckle before he took your hands away from your face and kissed your palms.

"Don't hide from me, Y/N. And don't be sorry... that was perfect. You did amazing for me." You nodded a little but you still felt flustered.

"Where's your bedroom, Sweetheart?" He asked as he placed a soft kiss on your temple.

"U-Upstairs. First room." You stammered, though you were getting the feeling that he was far from done with you.

Beau lifted you up in his arms with little to no effort at all and he carried you up to your bedroom. He felt your soft lips against his neck and he smiled to himself. He had no clue you could be adorable in times like this, and he couldn't wait to make tonight all about you.

Once he stepped into your bedroom, he walked over to your mattress and carefully laid you down. When you let go and he got a better look at you, he swore his heart was about to leap from his chest. Your cheeks were dusted with pink and your lips were swollen from his kisses. You were so cute like this.

"Would it... be okay if I undressed you, Darlin?" Beau asked.

"Only if I get to see you too." You compromised and Beau smiled as you sat up.

You reached up and started with the sheriff's jacket. You slid it off his shoulders and Beau tossed it onto the floor somewhere. Then you started to unbutton his flannel shirt only to reveal his chest but before you could slide it off his shoulders and get a better look, Beau took your hands to stop you.

"Your turn, Sweetheart." He said and you nodded a little.

Beau reached down and carefully gripped the bottom of your hoodie before he slowly began to pull it up. Once the hoodie was over your head, you could feel your body grow cold but you quickly crossed your arms over your chest covering them up since you didn't have a bra under your hoodie. The next thing you knew, Beau held one of your hands but didn't pull them away from your chest - instead he gave you a soft gaze.

"Y/N... I told you already. Don't hide from me." He said as he let his thumb graze over your knuckles.

Your cheeks flushed again but you nodded a little before you slowly pulled your arms down from your chest so he could get a better look at you.

"God... you're so pretty, Sweetheart." Beau said when he saw you. He couldn't get enough of you when he saw you like this. You were so breathtaking and he wanted to make sure you knew that.

He leaned down and you laid down on the bed as he started to hover over you. But when Beau leaned down next to your ear, you bit your lip at the way his breath felt against your skin as he spoke.

"If you hide from me again, then I'll have to do something about those pretty little hands of yours." He said as he kissed your temple again.

That statement alone made you get butterflies in your stomach. A part of you couldn't help but be a little curious about what he would do but you wanted to comply. When he pulled away, you looked up at him and you swore you were seeing some kind of vision above you.

Beau hadn't turned the light on when he brought you into the bedroom, and the curtains of your window were opened so the moonlight was hitting him just right and he looked absolutely divine hovering over you like this.

"Fuck.." You breathed out as you took in the sight of him, just for Beau to chuckle.

Beau bit down on his bottom lip before he started to take off his flannel shirt since you'd unbuttoned it already. You're eyes widened when he slipped the material off his shoulders and tossed it somewhere with the jacket. You had no idea he would look this good. His top half was a sight to see and you couldn't believe this was real. You slowly reached up and let your fingertips touch his chest before it trailed down his abs.

"God I must be hallucinating this whole thing." You said and Beau chuckled a little before he leaned down and kissed your forehead.

"Believe me, you aren't." Beau promised before he pulled away from you and he slowly started to kiss down your neck again.

"You're so beautiful, Y/N... gorgeous in every way." Beau whispered between kisses.

You could feel his kisses grow hot and the feeling of his teeth against your skin made you feel almost ecstatic. His mouth continued to trail down your body and the next thing you knew, you felt his hot breath over one of your breasts, causing you to shiver before his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, making your breath get caught in your throat. Then, Beau's other hand glided up the skin of your stomach before it cupped your other breast in his palm. He gave your mound a little squeeze before he took your erect nipple between his fingers and pinched it softly, causing you to moan his name.

With every movement of his mouth and every pinch he gave, you could feel yourself losing your mind. You squeezed your thighs together as he switched and gave your opposite breast his attention. His tongue swirled around your nipple. Both nipples were growing hard beneath his touch because of his actions and soft little whimpers were making their way past your lips.

"Beau.. y-your mouth feels so good." You breathed out as one of your hands went to the back of his head in an attempt to bring him closer.

After a few moments, Beau moved away from your chest and his kisses trailed down your stomach before he stopped. His hands were at the waistband of your biker shorts and he looked up at you.

"You doing okay, Princess? Do you want to keep going?" He asked and you nodded instantly.

"God yes..."

Beau smirked up at you and the moment you saw it, it about killed you. Even his smirk could make you weak in the knees.

Beau found it adorable how easy it was to get you flustered. You were so adorable like this and he loved the affect he had over you. He bit down on his lip as you slowly lifted your hips and he tugged down your shorts, revealing your glistening core that was still wet from your previous high.

Before he could get a good look at it though and spread your legs, your hands flew down to cover them up again, making Beau glare up at you.

"What did I tell you about that?" He asked you and you bit your lip.

"S-Sorry, I couldn't help it." You admitted but Beau shook his head a little.

"I told you, I'd have to do something about those hands if you covered yourself like that again, Princess." He reminded as he reached behind his back.

"Give me your wrists." He said in a way that told you this wasn't up for debate and he pulled out his handcuffs that had been in the back pocket of his jeans.

Flustered and speechless, you nodded. When you offered your wrists to Beau, he took them and put the cuffs on one of your wrists, looped it around a part of your headboard before hooking the other cuff around your second wrist, leaving you helpless with both your arms above your head so you couldn't try hiding yourself from him again.

"How does that feel, Princess. Are they too tight?" He asked and you shook your head.

"N-No. They feel fine." You promised.

"Good." He nodded a little before he went back to your lower half.

Then, he parted your thighs so he could get a better look at you. Your folds seemed to drip with your arousal and release and Beau couldn't help but ache in his jeans at the sight of you like this.

"So damn stunning..." He breathed out as he slowly kissed from one of your knees down your thigh. Then, he started to nip at your skin the closer he got to your core.

Beau settled between your legs and draped your thighs over his shoulders before he let his tongue gently glide through your folds as slow as possible. He groaned at the tase of you and his length twitched in his pants because of it. He didn't think he'd ever tasted something so heavenly and your moans sounded so pretty in his ears as he continued to lick through your folds.

You were trying your damn best not to lose control of yourself, but Beau's mouth did absolute wonders on your body. His tongue went through your folds so effortlessly and it felt like pure ecstasy. Without even realizing it, you were beginning to raise your hips in an effort to get closer to his mouth. But the moment he found that special little bundle of nerves, it was over.

"Fuck, Beau." You moaned as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked on it.

Then, you started feeling something poking at your entrance. With a slow thrust, while Beau's mouth was working its magic, he took his finger and slipped inside of your core with ease. He curled up his finger and found your spot almost instantly.

The way he moved his finger was so blissful mixed with the work of his tongue. You could feel his beard scraping between your thighs, making them burn in the best way possible. After a while, Beau slipped a second finger into you, making your core stretch around his fingers. You moaned softly and your hands turned into fists above your head. You wished you had listened so you could run your fingers through Beau's hair.

"Beau-fuck.. please, d-don't stop." You pleaded and when you tried to raise your hips again, Beau took his free hand and pinned you down to the mattress and started to devour you as if he'd never get another chance.

Beau couldn't get enough of the way you sounded, couldn't get enough of your taste. If he could, he would absolutely drown himself in you. He slipped a third finger inside you and you moaned even louder for him. He could feel your legs beginning to shake around his head as his fingers curled and hit that sweet spot of yours again.

He pulled his lips away from your clit and he looked up at you, seeing you struggling against your restraints. Your cheeks were so red and your face looked so adorable like this when you felt good from just his fingers alone. He loved watching the way your body was squirming against him, watching the way you were moving your hips into his hand but then he started to feel your walls clench around his three fingers.

"B-Beau, I'm c-close.."

"Go ahead Princess. Relax and let it happen. Let go of yourself on my fingers." He encouraged as he kept his pace steady.

Then, Beau watched in awe at the way you came undone all over his fingers. He slowed the pace of his hand and used the other to rub your thighs soothingly before he finally pulled his fingers out of your sensitive core.

"You did so well for me, Beautiful." Beau whispered before he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

You hummed into his mouth, not caring that you could taste yourself on his lips. His kisses were so addicting and if you could, you wondered if you could kiss him forever.

Unfortunately you couldn't find that out because Beau had pulled away from your lips and when you opened your eyes, you realized he was grabbing a key from his pocket. He reached up and unlocked the cuffs, releasing your wrists and without hesitation you grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss him again.

He gasped in surprise but he relaxed against your touch and closed his eyes again. He let his clean hand cup your cheek before he pulled away and he looked down at you.

You already looked so worn out in the prettiest way possible and he almost didn't want to ask if you wanted to keep going because he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable. But when Beau felt your fingers hook themselves around his belt loops to pull him closer, he knew he needed to say something.

"Y/N... if you let me do this I can't turn back." Beau warned you, but you reached your hand up and caressed his cheek.

"Who says I want you to turn back? I want you to keep going, Beau. I trust you." You whispered and moved a stray hair away from his face.

Beau smiled softly before he leaned down and let your noses nuzzle together in a little eskimo kiss before he pecked your lips before he pulled away. Then he reached down to start unbuckling his belt, but that was when he felt your smaller hands over his own.

"Let me do it." You told him as you sat up.

Beau bit down on his lip as he took his hands away and let you start to unbuckle his belt. Your hands were so delicate and he smiled to himself as he watched you start to unbutton his jeans and unzip them. Your reaction when you slid his jeans down was priceless. He didn't think you could possibly get any redder until you saw what was under his jeans.

"You're cute when you're flustered, you know that Sweetheart?" He asked and you bit your lip and looked up at him again.

"Are you sure it'll fit?" You asked.

After all, you had never seen a shape that large even if it was covered up by his boxers. You had to admit it was a little intimidating, but then you felt Beau move a strand of hair from your face.

"It it ever gets to be too much, you can always tell me to slow down or stop." Beau promised and you nodded a little.

"Lay back down for me, Princess." He said and you did so obediently before he started hovering over you.

"Do you have any protection, Sweetheart?" He asked and you shook your head a little.

"I'm on the pill. You'll be okay." You insisted and he nodded a little.

You gazed at him as he started to slide his boxers down and finally revealed himself. You gulped harshly, unsure if you'd ever seen anything quite like him. Scratch that, you were positive you hadn't seen a man quite that size.

Beau hovered over you again and you spread your legs out for him. As he lowered his hips into yours, your breath got caught in your throat again. His shaft slid between your folds and it felt so good against your clit. Your eyes fluttered shut as you focused on the feeling of him rubbing against you and your hands roamed up from his forearms up to his shoulders before you wrapped them around his back.

"Beau.. don't be a tease. Please.." You whispered your plea as you kissed his collar bone.

Beau smiled to himself when he heard your soft spoken words before he nodded a little. After that, he took his length and carefully pushed the tip against your entrance. Then he finally pushed it in and your walls wrapped around him in the best way possible. Beau let out a groan at the way you felt around him, so warm and tight despite having stretched you out.

"Fuck, Y/N... you're so damn perfect." He breathed out.

You moaned in pleasure at the stretch. He already felt so good inside you and you loved the way he sounded because of you. You didn't think you were capable of making someone feel this good, but it felt so reassuring. Rejuvenating even.

After a couple of seconds, Beau slid more of himself inside you and you bit your lip to prevent yourself from screaming at the pleasure of it all. You could already fill him so deep inside of you and you knew this was past the point of return for the both of you. You reached beside your head and gripped onto the sheets of your mattress as you tried to adjust to his size again.

The moment Beau finally pushed the rest of himself into you though, you white-knuckled the sheets and cried out his name. This feeling was so much more than you could fathom and you felt breathless with the pleasure of having Beau filling you up to the brim like this. You didn’t think you’d ever felt this stuffed in your life.

“H-Holy shit…” Beau grunted, loving the way you sounded as he filled you completely to the brim. When he looked down at you, he gulped harshly at the sight of a bulge showing in your stomach.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so beautiful.” He said and he lifted a hand before he pressed it down against your stomach. The both of you moaned in response to the way that pressure felt and Beau sure that if he wasn’t careful, he’d lose it right there.

Beau leaned down before he started to kiss your cheek, causing you to relax your grip on the sheets and he felt your gentle hands on his arms. Then he felt you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you. He placed one hand on your thigh and his other arm slid behind your back and pulled you closer into himself. Your chest was pressed against his and he could feel the way you hid your face into his neck as he stayed still inside you, letting you adjust to everything.

“Are you feeling okay, Princess?” He asked you softly, you nodded into his neck in response.

“Is it alright if I move?” Another nod came from you and he slowly began to move his hips.

Beau heard the sweetest sounds escape your lips as you whimpered softly with his slow movements. The friction between the two of you felt so good and he didn’t remember the last time he had felt so good with a woman. He continued to move slowly against you and he felt the way you started to grip at his shoulders. He hissed a little at the way your nails began to dig into his skin and he started to gradually move faster.

“Beau.. I-I need you to go faster.” You begged and Beau grunted deeply.

He paused for a moment before he parted your thighs from around his waist and pressed your knees against your chest. You screamed at the deeper angle and he started to move his hips faster. The sounds in the room were wet and lewd. When Beau looked down he could see you practically creaming around his cock. His length was covered with your slick and it was beginning to leak onto the sheets.

Your heart was racing and you felt like you were losing your mind. You walls were clenching around Beau’s length and you swore you were about to come undone again. The pit in your stomach was starting to tighten again and you felt like you were about to cum for a third time and you felt so sensitive as it is.

Beau felt beads of sweat start to roll down his temple as he continued to move. He bit down on his lip at the way your walls clenched around him so tightly. He could feel your body trembling beneath him before he started to slam himself into you again. He started thrusting even faster, deeper and Beau couldn’t restrain himself anymore.

“God, Y/N… you’re too fucking good.” Beau cursed and he took one of your hands before placing it beside your head, holding your wrist to the mattress.

“Beau, I can’t h-hold it. C-Close.” You warned and Beau nodded.

“Can’t hold it either. Give it to me, Sweetheart. Need you to come undone on me like.” Beau said though his voice was strained.

You listened to his words and you focused on the way Beau pounded into you. You focused on how deep he felt inside you, how he hit even the deepest parts of you that made you see stars. The next thing you knew, Beau had his fingers on your clit again rubbing harsh circles against those nerves. It didn’t take long after that for you to arch your back and you came harder than you had before. You screamed out his name and you swore you could even see white for a moment.

Beau watched as you came to your release. It had to be the sexiest thing he had ever seen. When your back arched he looped his arm behind you again and held you close to his chest as he rode out your high while you shook in his arms. He felt something warm spray onto his abdomen and he let out a curse. When he looked down he realized there was a clear liquid between you two and that was when Beau realized you’d squirted onto him.

“Holy shit…” He breathed out. He didn’t know he’d made you feel that good but he loved the way he could make you feel if this was the reaction he’d get.

You opened your eyes and slowly looked up at Beau through your lashes. Then you lifted a hand and caressed his cheek.

“Beau.. N-Need you to cum inside me. Please.” You begged and Beau was already so close as it is.

Beau was so hard that it physically ached and he didn’t know how much more he could take. But when he heard those words escape your lips, it was over for him. He took your hand away from his cheek and pinned it down to the bed again before he intertwined your fingers with his.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re so perfect. Shit..” Beau cursed as he squeezed your hand tightly.

After a few more thrusts, Beau finally released into you. You shuddered against him as he filled you up with his release and you could even feel his release coming out and running down your ass onto the sheets.

Both of you stayed still while Beau was still buried deep inside of you, You carefully leaned up and started to place soft kisses on his shoulders before making your way up his neck. Your free hand was lightly scratching his back with your fingernails in a soothing manner to try and calm him down from his own high while he still held your other one beside your head.

Beau trembled beneath your touch, feeling more sensitive than he’d expected to be. Then again, it had been a while since he’d slept with someone too so maybe you both needed a night like this more than you thought you did.

“Thank you…” Your voice broke Beau from his thoughts.

He hummed a little as his brows narrowed before he looked down at you.

“What are you thanking me for?” He asked softly.

“For checking on me tonight. For making me feel like I can be worth something to someone.” You whispered and Beau softened before he took the hand that was beside your head and pulled it between you two. He flipped your hand and kissed the back of it, never breaking eye contact with you.

“I told you.. all you had to do was look in the right places.” He said and smiled down at you. Then he leaned down and kissed your lips softly. Then he started to pull away and when he was about to pull out of you, you wrapped your legs around him again.

“Don’t go just yet.” You whispered.

“Y/N, I won’t be going anywhere. But I do need to clean you up and get you into some clean sheets before you get some rest.” Beau said and you hummed softly.

“That can wait a few minutes… couldn’t it?” You asked and Beau smiled softly.

“I suppose it could.” He replied and he leaned down, placing soft kisses on your own shoulder.

“For the record… dating apps are over rated. You could do so much better than total strangers.” Beau said softly between kisses.

“I think I may have found better.” You whispered and Beau lifted his head and he smiled down at you.

He leaned down to kiss you once more and you knew that you could trust Beau with everything. You wondered if maybe he could be everything you wanted, and needed. Maybe this was the opened door to something you had always dreamed of and Beau was right. You just needed help finding where to look.

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zepskies · 10 months ago

Text

Take Me Home - Part 2

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from.

AN: Thank you so much for all of your lovely comments on Part 1! I know many of you have questions, and I promise, all will be revealed in due time…

(Also, what do you guys think of new chapters releasing on Wednesdays and Sundays instead of just Fridays? A week is a long time, isn't it? 😂)

Song Inspo: “City Grown Willow” by Radio Company

Word Count: 5,200

Tags/Warnings: Tension, hurt/comfort, major angst, and more comfort of a different sort.

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 2: It’s Not Right, But It’s Okay

Tensions were running high at Sunny Day Excursions.

Over the next few days, Mary continued to press the issue of you staying in Montana with little passive aggressive comments that got on your damn nerves. You proverbially dug your heels in, and became even more stubborn and taciturn as a result.

Unstoppable force meets immovable object.

However, the entire camp was shaken the night Paige and Luke disappeared on a hike. Buck and Sunny assured everyone that they were doing their best to look for the couple, but come the morning, it was Emily who accidentally found Luke in the woods, bleeding from a head wound, and without Paige.

He claimed that they’d gone their separate ways after a fight, and he hadn’t seen her since. Paige’s suitcase and things were gone from her tent, so Sunny could only assume that she’d found her way back to camp and left for home by morning.

“Look, no one’s a prisoner here,” Sunny had said. “If Paige wanted to go home, then that’s up to her.”

There was still something off about it though, you felt. Emily seemed to share your thoughts; you’d heard her whispering with Avery, and Dan, another camper in his early 40s.

You started to watch Luke a bit harder from then on. As did your friend Mary, if for different reasons.

It was still early in the morning when you caught her flirting with Luke in front of your shared tent.

“A personal trainer, huh?” said Luke. His gaze flit over Mary’s form, and she allowed it with a smile. “You know, I’ve got a pretty good workout routine, but I’ll bet you can give me some tips—”

“Drink lots of water,” you said dryly as you approached the tent. You carried your sketchpad and acrylic paints in your hand, and you pushed into the tent without giving Luke and Mary more than a glance.

You heard Mary’s voice outside the tent, all girlish and flirtatious as she apologized about you, and suggested they could keep talking later. Luke readily agreed. You sat down on the edge of your bed and watched his silhouette walk away from the tent.

Mary soon joined you inside, and she didn’t look pleased. She stared down at you and crossed her arms.

“Are you kidding me with that shit?” you asked, gesturing at the scene you just saw.

“Could you be any more of a cockblock?” Mary shot back.

“Number one, that guy is a little too young for you, Cougar Town,” you reminded her. Luke had to be in his early 20s. It had been a hot minute since you and Mary were of college age. “Number two, he came here with his girlfriend, who he somehow lost in the woods.”

“She left him,” Mary said. “All alone in the middle of nowhere. Then she took off and went home so she didn’t have to deal with what she did. I feel bad for him.”

“No, you’re horny for him. There’s a difference,” you said flatly.

You loved Mary like a sister, but she had the tendency to let guys blind her to good sense. (Ha. Pot calling the kettle black, came your self-deprecation.)

Though you could’ve predicted the way she huffed and walked away, once again leaving you alone. You sighed.

Wasn’t this vacation for us? you wondered.

Mary continued to bait Luke with coy flirtation, while you tried and failed to ride a horse again. Cormack had been kind and encouraging in trying to help you onto the creature, but once you were on its back, you were too afraid to let the horse move.

You felt like you were going to topple off at any moment, even with Beau Arlen’s advice. (Which still made you blush whenever you thought about it.)

So Cormack helped you down, and you went back to the mess tent for a mid-afternoon snack to make you feel better: a giant jelly donut.

You were really getting frustrated with yourself now.

“It’s not so hard,” Emily had said. You could imagine that her dad, the cowboy sheriff, had put her on a horse from the time she was a little kid. You were a city girl, through and through. The closest you’d ever gotten to riding a horse was a plastic one—a carousel at a carnival when you were six.

While you finished off your donut, you realized that you’d spent the whole day alone. As frustrated as you were with Mary, she was your best friend. And after this week, you would be staying and she would be going back to Chicago. You didn’t know when you would get to see her again.

So with a sigh, you wiped your hands free of donut icing and went to try and find her.

You started with the tent you shared with her. “Hey, Mary? Look I—”

You gasped when, upon entering the tent, you got your eyes seared. Mary and Luke were tangled together under the sheets. He moved off of your friend and rolled onto his back next to her when you came in. Mary uttered your name in shock. Everyone was shocked, really.

You were that, and angry.

“Really?! In our goddamn bed?” you shouted. Your gaze focused on Luke, and you pointed at him. “Get the hell out of here.”

He hesitated slightly, glancing at Mary, but your furious look scared him more. He grabbed his boxers and got dressed under the sheets before he left the bed, and then fled the tent, giving you a wide berth on his way out.

You then focused on Mary, who somehow looked both contrite and irritated at being interrupted. She said your name in a placating way, but you shook your head.

“No. No. Don’t even try,” you said. “That guy’s girlfriend left him in the middle of a vacation! What does that tell you? Please, screw me?”

“You know what?” Mary snapped. She sat up in the bed, making sure to cover herself with the sheet. She leaned over to grab her clothes from the floor and started hastily getting dressed.

“Luke’s actually a nice guy," she said. "You used to know how to have fun. But now you’ve just become this bitter person who can’t relax or let yourself be happy, let alone anyone else.”

That actually struck you—like a physical blow to your chest. You tried to blink past the sting of tears in your eyes.

“You’re a damn child,” you said, steadier than you felt. “You’re not the one who had your whole world imploded.”

Mary’s lips pursed. She still looked angry, but also like she was hiding the sting of guilt. She gathered up some of her things and informed you that she’d be staying at Luke’s tent tonight.

Freakin’ fine by you.

You’d also have to request some new bed sheets from Sunny.

In the morning, you stumbled out of bed after a rough night’s sleep. It was hard for you to sleep in a new place by yourself, especially out here in the woods.

Especially after how you and Mary left things.

You were so tired, you counted it a small blessing that you were able to put on clothes and get your hair into some kind of normalcy before you trekked over to the mess tent.

There you accidentally overheard Avery and Emily arguing; she’d lost her knife in the woods when she’d happened upon Luke, but Avery was reluctant to let her go hiking by herself. Apparently, her mother was due to join them this morning as well.

It seemed like the day of late comers though. A new married couple, Tonya and Donno, had arrived late yesterday to join the trip. They’d requested a tent at the far end of the camp, closest to the woods. Apparently, they wanted to really experience nature.

All you knew was, they seemed a bit weird.

“That knife’s important. My father gave it to me,” Emily said, interrupting your thoughts.

It made Avery quiet, but they both greeted you more pleasantly when you had to walk by them to get to the coffee.

“Hey, sorry,” you gave a little wave in embarrassment. You hated interrupting moments that had nothing to do with you, but you supposed it was unavoidable in this camp.

Once you’d gotten your coffee and filled your plate with some eggs and bacon, you joined them at the table. You pretended not to notice the way they both glanced at you with measures of concern. Did you really look that bad?

Avery wisely didn’t comment. Emily wasn’t as good at curbing her inner filter.

“Hey, you okay?” she asked. You gave her a thin smile.

“Just a bit tired. Didn’t sleep so well,” you admitted.

Of course, that was when the reason for your bedraggled appearance strolled into the mess tent. Mary came in and noticed Avery and Emily first with a smile. It turned frosty when she glanced at you. You gave her a mocking “smile” right back.

She chose to ignore you and went for the buffet table instead.

Right, you thought. You supposed that was how it was going to be for the rest of this damn trip.

“All righty! Good mornin’, folks,” Sunny said, entering the mess tent. She surveyed all the faces gathered—some relaxed and jovial, and then your table, a bit awkward, a bit tense.

She moved on with a smile that matched her name and her shiny red hair.

“Just lettin’ you all know as a reminder, we’ve got a bunch of activities for you all if there are any takers. Archery, kayaking, it’s gonna be a great time,” she said. “But if you prefer, you’re welcome to keep to the camp have a more relaxed day. It’s your vacation, so it’s up to you how you wanna spend it.”

You all nodded in understanding.

It’s your vacation. You choose how you spend it.

That, you could get on board with.

You spent the rest of the morning alone, as usual. Either you were reading in the outdoor lounge area, taking in the sunshine and the fresh air, or you were painting, taking in the landscape of the tall trees and the great, big mountains peeking out from behind them.

You earned yourself some peace today, one that let you breathe and try to tune out your frustrations with Mary, and your worries about the future. You hummed along to a melody in your mind as you painted. Completely at peace…

Until a hand tapped on your shoulder, making you yelp and sending your paintbrush high in the air.

Cormack came into your line of vision with a barely stifled laugh and placating hands. While you took out your earbuds (and calmed your breathing), he grabbed your brush and handed it back to you.

“Sorry about that. Just wanted to let you know that lunch is served,” he said, though he took a glance at your painting. “Hey, lookin’ real good there. Nice landscape.”

You let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Aw, you don’t have to be so nice. I’m still learning.”

He crossed his arms. “Well, if you’re interested in taking classes, I know someone who runs an art studio in town. Miss Peggy. Nice lady. Not too harsh.”

You laughed more genuinely.

“Good to know, thanks! Send me the address and I’ll check it out,” you said. Cormack agreed with a smile, and he helped you up from the long couch you were sitting on. The two of you walked back together to the central part of the camp, where the mess tent was.

There you met Emily’s mother, Carla, who’d just joined her family at the camp. She wasn’t exactly dressed for camping in her pressed blouse and pencil skirt; professional and smart, her long dark hair a perfect coil.

This woman was immaculate. As you soon learned, she was also a lawyer. You didn’t often feel intimidated by other women, but she could fit that bill, considering you were sweaty and dusty in your plain V-necked shirt and jeans.

And especially knowing that this was Sheriff Arlen’s ex-wife. Avery seemed like the “wealthy businessman” type—the kind of man you’d expect a high-powered lawyer to be with. You found yourself wondering how she’d met the sheriff.

That’s none of your busineeeess, you sing-songed in your mind, while you speared more salad on your plate. As if that could disguise the juicy brisket burger right beside it.

After lunch, you returned to your tent to finally find Mary. She was lying on the bed, looking a bit listless.

“I’m surprised you’re not attached to Luke’s hip,” you remarked, setting down your backpack and paint supplies on the floor. “Or his face.”

She shot you a peeved look. “He keeps ditching me for that weird new couple. Tonya and Donner or something.”

“Donno?” you supplied. “Yeah, he’s weird. He stole the ketchup bottle from the breakfast table this morning. He told me, ‘You shouldn’t ruin good eggs with sugary tomato paste.’”

Mary raised a brow, but she turned to you when you sat down beside her on the bed. There was a moment of tension between you, even though your gazes were softer to each other. The truth was, you missed your friend today. You guys didn’t fight often, and it had you hurting. Maybe she felt the same way.

“Listen,” you said with a sigh. “I’m not sorry for throwing Luke out of our tent. That was gross as hell, and I didn’t appreciate that. But I don’t want to fight with you. I want to enjoy our last few days together before you go back to Chicago.”

Mary’s lips pursed, but she seemed to relent.

“Yeah, that was a bitch move,” she admitted. She knew full well that her tryst with Luke could’ve happened in his tent, not the one she shared with you. She met your gaze with more resignation, as well as apology.

“You’re really staying here, aren’t you?” she asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, I am. I’m not saying there’s nothing for me back home. Of course I’m going to miss you, our friends, the rest of my family…but I need to do this. I need a fresh start.”

It took her a moment, but Mary nodded. She reached over and hugged you. You held her back tightly.

After a beat, she let you go and slid out of bed.

“Okay,” she sighed. “I need to do something. I’m going stir crazy in here.”

“Where’re you going?” you asked.

“Just for a run,” she replied. “I should be back by dinner.”

“A run?” you repeated, your brows furrowing. “In the woods by yourself? Don’t you think that’s dangerous?”

“Well, you could come with me,” she offered. You grimaced. You and running didn’t mix. You were more of a yoga girl.

Mary laughed and finished changing into her activewear and sneakers.

“That’s what I thought,” she said. “No worries, I’ll have my phone if anything. I’ll be okay.”

“But your cell won’t have service out there!” you said.

Mary was already leaving. She blew you a kiss goodbye, though she did stop in the tent’s entryway. Her face sobered with a sincere apology.

“Look, I’m sorry for everything, okay?” she said. “I know I can be a brat sometimes…but we can talk more when I get back, clear my head.”

You were reluctant to see her go, but you nodded.

“Just be back in time for dinner!” you called after her.

Mary wasn’t back for dinner. Even after the sun set, she hadn’t come back from her run. You were really beginning to worry.

All the other campers were gathering up at the edge of camp for a Night Hike. It was an idea Buck and Sunny surprised you all with a few hours ago. You wondered if they were trying to make up for the strange way Paige left the camp.

“The moon’s full tonight,” as Sunny had said, with a slightly too bright smile. “Should be a beautiful time.”

You asked some of the others if they’d seen Mary, but they all replied negatively. Even Luke was nowhere to be found…but someone else was missing too.

“I still can’t believe you let her go into the woods alone,” Carla snapped at her husband.

Avery’s frown deepened. “I had no idea she went off by herself. You know your daughter. She’s headstrong—”

“Yeah, just like her father,” Carla muttered, turning away from him. Avery sighed.

You couldn’t help but approach them.

“Emily’s missing?" you said in concern. "Mary is too. I’ve been waiting for her to come back all afternoon.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Carla said. She frowned as anxiety continued to well up in her eyes. “Maybe they found each other.”

You touched her arm in comfort. “Either way, we can all look for them now.”

Sunny came up to the group with a flashlight and a smile.

“Everyone ready?” she asked.

“Mary’s missing,” you told her, “And so is Emily. Mary went on a run this morning and hasn’t been back since.”

Sunny inclined her head. After she surveyed the rest of the crowd, she settled back on you.

“I see Luke’s not among us either. Maybe they’re together?” she suggested, in a leading tone. You frowned.

“No, she left alone,” you said firmly.

“Don’t mean she stayed alone, darlin’,” Sunny replied, with that Oklahoma twang that so often made her words more charming. “But we’ll be sure to look for her and Emily while we’re out there.”

Carla shook her head and said to her husband, “That’s it. I’m calling Beau.”

“Darling, you don’t need to,” Avery replied, shaking his head. “Emily’s a responsible girl. She knows what time we’re meant to leave—”

Carla shook her head and walked past him and Sunny—towards the hotspot for cell service. You agreed with her; calling the sheriff couldn’t hurt, especially if you all couldn’t find Mary or Emily on this hike.

You still went with the rest of them to start your own search. You tried to keep with the group, but after lingering in certain spots to call for Mary, you eventually realized that you’d lost the trail—and everyone else.

The trees were tall and dark now. The moon was filtering through them like the sun had during other day hikes, but it was much more ominous at night.

“Shit,” you muttered. You gripped your flashlight in worry as panic started to well up in your chest.

Now you were lost.

You jumped with a start when the hoot of a bird passed by overhead.

Shiiiit. This was very bad.

You kept moving forward on what you thought was the trail. That was all you could do, keep moving forward. You made a few turns around some trees, occasionally calling out for Sunny, or Mary, or anyone to hear you.

The panic was back now, full force, and you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. And when you turned another corner, you screamed when you bumped into someone.

A girl’s scream echoed just as loudly as yours in the big, empty wood, but you got ahold of yourself, literally with a hand over your wildly beating heart when you realized who you’d run into.

“Emily!” you uttered. The girl let out a breath of relief to see you too. You went to her and pulled her into a hug, and she hugged you back.

“Thank. God,” she said. Her voice sounded tight with emotion, and you held her a bit tighter.

“It’s okay,” you rubbed her back. “How long’ve you been out here?”

“I don’t know,” she shook her head, pulling away from you. “Couple of hours? Maybe longer.”

You nodded and expelled a breath. Poor thing looked tired. She didn’t even have any supplies with her. You gave her a protein bar from your backpack before you two started walking.

“So the good news is, we found each other. The bad news is, we’re still lost,” you said, counting each item on your fingers. “But the good news also is, I’ve only been walking for about…half an hour or so. I’m thinking we can mark trees or other landmarks as we pass them, like checking them off, so we know where we’ve been.”

Emily glanced at you with a smile. “You’re a checklist person, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely!” you agreed. “Checking things off is satisfying. But it’s also good just to take an inventory of where we’re at.”

You two kept walking for a while. Emily explained that she’d been following Luke, who took off by himself after giving her an ominous warning.

“There are some bad people on this trip. Want my advice? Get the hell out of here,” he’d said.

You frowned in concern. You’d felt that there was something fishy about that guy, pretty much from the moment he and Paige disappeared on that hike. Those newcomers he’d been hanging out with ever since, Tonya and Donno…maybe they had something to do with it.

They’d left camp today to go into town, claiming to check on the restaurant they owned and ran. But with everything now starting to come into perspective, you couldn’t take any piece of information at face value around here.

Suddenly, Emily stopped short.

“What’s…” Your words trailed as you followed her line of vision. There was a frilly pair of underwear on the ground.

That led to a hoodie strewn in the dirt and dead leaves. You continued on, until you found Mary, lying on her back on the cold ground. You and Emily gasped her name, but you moved first, dropping to your knees at Mary’s side. You pressed a hand to her cheek and found it cold.

You moved two fingers to the pulse point at her neck, but there was nothing. No life in her. Your mouth fell open in a silent, shocked cry.

“Mary? Honey, can you hear me?” you tried, shaking her shoulders. When she remained unresponsive, tears burned in your eyes and blurred your vision. You finally saw a dark patch of wet pooled out from under her body.

“Oh my God,” Emily said, voicing your thoughts. She was panicked. “Oh God, she’s…she’s…”

You turned to her and wanted to say, Don’t look.

You had briefly taught highschoolers before you became a college professor. You were used to looking out for your students, and as the adult here, you wanted to shield the teen from the sight of this, no matter how much your mind was spinning.

Before you could say anything, Emily fled the clearing with a scream.

“Emily!” you shouted after her. You glanced back at Mary in desperation, but you forced yourself onto your feet and ran after the girl.

You had slightly longer legs, but she was fast. You only caught up to her because she screamed louder, after running into Buck leading a horse through the woods. She grabbed onto him while you caught your breath behind her.

“What? What happened?” Buck asked. You laid a supportive hand on Emily’s shoulder, and she turned back to you with tearful eyes.

“Mary,” you managed, despite the coarseness in your voice. “She’s…”

This isn’t real, you thought. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.

“She’s dead,” Emily finished for you. “Someone killed her.”

Buck’s eyes widened in shock. All he could say was…

“Show me.”

Buck brought Mary’s body back to camp on the back of his horse. The three of you walked in silence all the way there. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her lifeless body. It was wrong. And if you did, you knew you’d collapse.

Emily was likely in shock as well. Her arm was looped through yours, though you weren’t sure who was steadying who.

Thanks to Carla, the police were already on the way to Sunny Day Excursions. When you reached the camp, Carla beelined for her daughter. Despite how happy she was to see her mom, Emily was a bit reluctant to let go of you, seeing how shaken you were, but you encouraged her wordless to go to her mother.

Carla pulled Emily into a tight hug, kissing the side of her head, and asked if she was all right. Emily just shook her head and pressed her face into her mom’s shoulder. Carla looked up at you with a relieved sigh.

“Thank you,” she said.

You gave her teary smile of your own. You couldn’t speak though, especially when Buck passed by with Mary still on the back of his horse. Sunny gasped and grabbed a blanket to cover the body with.

She then went to you, whispering, “You poor dear. Come ‘ere, sit by the fire.”

She covered your shoulders with another blanket and steered you to sit by the bonfire in the center of camp. You stayed there and stared at the flames. All the while, you didn’t feel the warmth. You didn’t feel the silent tears that slid down your face and dropped into your lap.

“Where’s Luke?” you heard Avery ask.

“That’s a good question,” said Sunny. She turned to her husband. “Buck?”

“I don’t know, but somebody better find him,” he replied grimly.

It was another hour before the police arrived.

You still hadn’t moved from your spot in front of the bonfire on a hard bench, but it was Cormack who gently asked you if you wanted to go back to your tent to relax until the police got around to talking to you about what happened.

You’d agreed, silently, and he helped you up. But you found that you could go no further than the couple of steps that brought you onto the platform outside of your tent. The tent you’d shared with Mary.

You couldn’t go in, and Cormack seemed to realize that. He helped you lower down to sit on the platform, with your dirty sneakers planted on the step below. He gave you a cup of hot tea as well, which you held with both hands and sipped slowly.

You only raised your head when you heard Emily’s voice exclaim in happiness. You watched her run to her father, the Sheriff. He welcomed his daughter into his arms and held her tight. Relief was painted all over his face. You heard the rumble of his voice asking her if she was all right. She just burrowed closer in the safety of his arms.

A blonde policewoman had come with him, along with a whole unit of officers. She went to question Buck and Sunny first, while Beau handled Emily, then Avery and Carla. It didn’t seem like a pleasant conversation, between the two men especially.

Don’t stare, you reminded yourself. You lowered your gaze to the dusty bottom stair between your feet. Your vision started to glaze over the longer you focused on that spot. You weren’t lost in thought. You were just…blank. This entire night still didn’t feel real.

Mary’s last words kept ringing through your mind…

“Look, I’m sorry for everything, okay?” she’d said. “I know I can be a brat sometimes…but we can talk more when I get back.”

You were interrupted from your reverie when two brown boots entered your line of vision. You looked up, and Beau Arlen was there to greet you with a look of sympathy. And yet, there was a professional set to his face that let you know you were about to be formally questioned about Mary’s death.

“Is that spot taken?” Beau asked, pointing to the space beside you on the platform. You shook your head and scooched over, so he could sit down. He sighed on his way there, greeting you with polite familiarity.

“Sheriff,” you nodded back. You set aside your mug of tea and crossed your arms, holding yourself against the chill.

You’d left the blanket by the bonfire, and your sweater had been stained with blood, after helping Buck set Mary’s body on the horse. You’d ripped the sweater off as soon as you got to camp, leaving you in just your undershirt.

“You need a jacket,” Beau remarked. He glanced back at your tent, as if he was wondering why you hadn’t gone inside to grab one. But his gaze was perceptive. Instead of asking, he shrugged out of his faux fur-lined leather jacket and draped it around your shoulders.

“Here, you can borrow this for now,” he said.

“Thank you,” you spoke in a small voice. You grasped one edge of the jacket and pulled it closer around you. It smelled like musky cologne and old leather.

Beau waved off his gesture of kindness.

“I hear you found my daughter in the woods and tried to get her back to camp,” he said. “Thank you for that.”

You glanced over at him, and tears once again shone in your eyes.

“I’m sorry she had to see…”

Beau’s gaze was heavy as he sighed and nodded again in agreement.

“I’m sorry you had to see it too,” he said. “And I’m sorry for your loss. For your friend.”

You took in a shuddering breath. New tears found familiar paths down your cheeks.

“Best friend, since college,” you said.

Beau took that in, before he asked you about the day’s events. You had to explain about Mary going missing first, then Emily, and finally Luke, who still hadn’t been found. You told everything you knew from your perspective.

When you were done, Beau reluctantly asked about the Mary and Luke situation. Your lips pursed, but your upset wasn’t at the sheriff. You knew he had to ask these questions.

“We argued about it,” you admitted. “Me and Mary. I warned her not to get involved with him, and the way Paige left camp was just one of many…but still, I should’ve been there. I shouldn’t have let her go into the woods alone! I should’ve gone with her!”

By the end, your whole body wracked with sobs. You covered your face with your hands to try and get some semblance of composure, but you just couldn’t keep it together.

“Okay, okay,” Beau said gently. He laid a hand on your back and rubbed back and forth. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I am.”

You sucked in a few tremulous breaths, sniffling. You looked up at him with red, watery eyes. He gave you a half smile.

“Sorry,” he repeated, this time for the endearment. “Like I said, got a bad habit of doin’ that.”

You shook your head with a weak curve of your lips, despite how your lower lip wobbled.

“It’s okay,” you said.

But it wasn’t. Nothing was.

You didn’t think you’d ever be okay again.

AN: 😥 I'm sorry about Mary, but I promise, it's all for a purpose, besides following canon. But let me know what you think! There will be much more of the reader and Beau in the next chapter, though you may not expect how their next meeting comes about...

Next Time:

“We’re gonna start here in a few minutes, but until then, you can take a seat,” said Tom. “There’s also coffee and cookies over there, if you like.”

Coffee. Coffee was warm, and it might settle your nerves and help you perk up a bit. You thanked him and went for the carafes on a small table in the back. You poured some coffee into a Styrofoam cup and poured a little sugar and creamer into it, but after you took an experimental sip, you immediately regretted it.

Tastes like damn soil water! You made a grossed out sound and spat it back into your cup.

“Yeah, wouldn’t recommend the joe,” drawled a familiar voice.

You turned sharply to find Sheriff Beau Arlen.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Series Masterlist

Big Sky Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @ades106

@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @deans-baby-momma @tabsluvsu @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons

@antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @deans-spinster-witch @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @iprobablyshipit91 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @lostin-jensenseyes @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow

#It's Not Right But It's Okay #Take Me Home #Part 2 #Beau Arlen series #big sky #beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x female reader #Emily Arlen #beau arlen x you #Jensen Ackles characters #big sky season 3 #zepskies writes

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pookie-mulder · 2 months ago

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October 2024 fic roundup

👶☑️ Beginnings by @television-overload

The most perfect follow-up to Of Our Own Making! Seeing m&s fall in love and go on their first date AFTER getting married and having a child together is just precious. (Especially Mulder’s “will u go out with me” note!) I love their unconventional relationship so much.

🐓🍽️ Untitled by @aloysiavirgata

This little fic is hilarious! I love Mulder getting the chance to be subtly petty towards Bill. I also love to see MSR being so domestic and settled down in the unremarkable house.

blue prints by @foxmulders

(Couldn’t find an ao3 link to this one)

Oof. This one hurts in the best way. It’s everything you want for these characters that they never got to have. It’s fluff, but it feels like angst because it’s a reminder of what the Mulder-Scully family could have been. I love it!

🛁🫧 the alchemy by @leiascully

I absolutely adore “platonic” intimacy that happens when they’re not quite together, and this fic starts out that way and ends in some incredibly satisfying RST. For such a short fic, this one sure does pack a punch! One of my favorites from fictober.

🕳️📍 You Send Me by spookynerd

The silliest premise leads to the sweetest romance! I love to see Mulder all pathetic and pining. My favorite line: “I’m in love. I think it’s terminal.”

🧜‍♀️💍 mermaids, native to montana by @foxmulders

I read this one a while ago and recently stumbled across it again. It’s the type of fluff with an undercurrent of sadness that creates such a powerful sense of longing. If you’re a fan of an unconventional marriage fic, read this one!

🛌🚂 Untitled by @myassbrokethefall

I usually steer clear of revival fics (I haven’t even been able to bring myself to watch it yet) but this one is just so darn sweet! I’d like to go back in time and show CC a copy of this fic so he writes it into the show.

🎂💌 Birthday Blues by Donnilee

I’m a fan of an author who can turn the silliest, most improbable situations seem probable, and this fic delivers. Read it if you’re a fan of tropey goodness and smut that’s as adorable as it is hot.

💇‍♀️💥 By the Dim and Flaring Lamps by @sunflowerseedsandscience

I was in the mood for a historical setting, and this Civil War AU fit the bill! One of my favorite things was its exploration of 19th-century gender roles, not to mention the unconventional romance.

🇮🇪🏰 Katherine of Ireland by Jenna Tooms

If you’re a fan of Hiraeth (as I am), you’ll love this one! It has a very similar setting and plot. The writing styles are very different, though, so it’s not like they’re carbon copies of each other or anything.

Anyway, this fic is achingly romantic, with plenty of lines that take your breath away.

(If you want the epub for easier reading, let me know!)

🏝️👻 Waldron Island by @sisterspooky1013

Like Gaslight, this fic features M&S not being able to trust their own minds. However, this time, it’s for horror reasons, not sci-fi reasons. Regardless, that concept is one of my favorites to explore in fiction, so I absolutely devoured this spooky fic! (And the ending scene? 😫🔥🥵🥹‼️)

😈🪞 Succumbing to the Truth by OnlyTheInevitable

If you liked Waldron Island, you’ll love this one! It’s a similar concept, but lies more in the casefic genre rather than straight-up horror. I loooove the way it uses the plot (a succubus demon) to force M&S closer together and finally talk about their feelings. It’s one of those fics where you can see where it’s going, which adds anticipation and makes the ending so much sweeter!

🥤🛍️ Inevitable by @thefinestmuffins

This alternate version of the car conversation in Tooms is an incredible Scully character study that’s absolutely dripping with UST. For a short fic, it truly packs a punch! One of my favorite parts is this: “On the Dana Scully list of priorities, want figures very, very low. It’s not that she doesn’t possess it in great quantity, it’s just that she fights like hell to rate it less highly than ambition, dignity, control, pragmatism, self-sufficiency, stability.”

#txf #the x files #fic #fic roundup #mine #msr #fox Mulder #dana scully

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bullet-prooflove · 4 months ago

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Months: Travis Wheatley x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @trublu2u @yousigned-upforthis @queenslandlover-93

Companion piece to:

The Circuit - You're the first person Travis tells about his condition.

Beachside - Travis's diagnosis gives him a fresh perspective.

Lifetime - You promise to spend a lifetime with Travis, no matter how short it may be.

It’s Sunday afternoon and Travis is asleep on the couch with his head resting on your lap, your fingers combing lightly through his hair. He’s been napping for a couple of hours now, his arms crossed over his chest as you listen to the even sounds of his breathing. It’s been happening a lot recently, ever since the doctor hold him he was in acute liver failure.

It’s not a matter of years anymore, he’d told the two of you. It’s months.

The car ride home had been quiet because Travis, he doesn’t want to face this just yet and you don’t blame him because the truth is, you’re not ready to face it either. You’re not ready to let him go.

“I want to have a part of you.” You say quietly as you’re making dinner that night. He’s cooking steaks on the stove while you chop peppers for the salad. “When you go, I want to keep a part of you with me.”

He turns the stove off then because the who of you talked about having kids once upon a time. The plan had always been after you were married, when the two of you settled down in your own little ranch in Montana.

“Honey…” He begins, his hands coming to rest upon your waist as you set the knife down. “I don’t think that’s a decision we should be making right now.”

“When should we be making it?” You snap as you turn to face him. “In a couple of months when you’re too sick to move, when you’re gone?”

The words hit him like a slap because you aren’t wrong, his time, it is running out and he understands why you would want a piece of his memory after he leaves this world but he also understands it’s an emotional response to the reality you’re facing.

If he does succeed in getting you pregnant and that’s a big if, considering your age and his circumstances, the likelihood is he won’t live to see his baby being born, he won’t get to hold them in his arms, to sing the lullabies is momma used to sing. The thought of that, it tears him up inside because there is nothing in this world he wants more than to marry you, to give you his baby but he knows all of that is a symptom of his condition.

“Gina honey.” He whispers. “I can’t give you that, not like this.”

You break then, he watches the pieces of you crumble as you push away from the counter, slipping away from him. You’re out the back door before he can stop you, slamming it shut so hard that the glass vibrates in the panel. Travis puts his hands on the counter, trying to catch his breath because this hurts, it hurts so fucking much to listen to you breaking down on the porch outside, sobbing your fucking heart out.

His eyes start to sting because this thing, this fucking disease it won’t happy until it’s destroyed every part of him.

Love Travis? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#travis wheatley #travis wheatley x reader #yellowstone #taylor sheridan

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dihydromorphinone · 7 months ago

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ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 i can't wait to taste you..

after watching her for over a year, tanner can't control his urges anymore and he goes to claim what, he thinks, is rightfully his.

— tanner x reader, reader/character is implied to be female and in luna's place, not really smut but very suggestive it was supposed to be a smut though, kinda dark themed(!!) but it is consensual somehow TT, stalking references, i'll definitely write a part two with smut 👅, been writing this for four months;; kinda feel like i could've done better

if you like it pls reblog!! ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

an: i wanted to try something new hehehe tell me if you like how it's written!! also dude... tanner voicelines are so cannibalistic and sexy,,, and i feel sooo bad i drank too much and i was sitting outside drinking beer with some random ahh guy at 3am and I'm pretty sure that something i took today got laced >_< this is my comfort fic yall.

tonight was oddly peaceful. the state of Montana, especially that one – someone would say cursed – town was the complete opposite of peace. with the sudden increase in crime; murder, kidnappings, disappearances mostly the city was covered with terror. the blueblood killer was definitely a real threat, a threat that is wandering free on the sickly covered in fog streets, while the poor citizens are left in the dark – and though he enjoys the exposition he has, for tanner it wasn't enough. it's never going to be enough.

he's cruel. psychotic, even. what sane person would happily murder so many of its own kind? none. and yet, there he was. enthusiastically setting feet rhythmically on the pavement, the heels of his elegant shoes making a barely audible 'click-clacks'. so much passion in each step; the same passion which drives him to inject toxins to humans and toying them with much visible sadism. tanner – the blueblood killer, had a very distinctive way of looking at the society. for him, it was nothing else than scum. trash, refuse; all the same. no human mattered to him. he treated mankind like a child would treat its toys; fun, but only for a moment. then the toy, or in tanner's case, a human can be tossed away into some corner, because it won't serve his purpose this well again. his definition of fun, however, was as cruel as he was. stalking, trespassing, closely observing his prey's emotional reactions and how the body and mind react separately depending on the circumstances and substances. his fun ends when the victim dies or acts repetitively – so he cherishes every moment of preying upon a human.

he found one exception, though – a young woman living not-so-far-away from his hideout; the captivating lady was a detective, with her home set close to the giant, maze-like forest, where the equally handsome doctor was spending his days, and if he wasn't out satiating his disgusting urges, nights. tanner has been watching her for over a year, falling prey to the female's plush lips, seemingly sweet demeanor and her abominable desires. in their own home, each human feels safe. the only place they can be themselves, do whatever they want to do. tanner pitied them - he always did. but for some reason, he still laughed at people who acted different indoors. he defied the whole purpose of safety, stripping the victim of it.

he’s stood in the shadows – where he preferred to be, for now. the thrill of being found was growing fonder and fonder on him, but now's not the right time, tanner would always repeatedly tell himself this like a mantra. like a plea to the sober-thinking part of him to let the other, more careless and darker part have some more fun. his thirst, though, for blood and flesh was just expanding more and more... insatiable, one would think. no matter how many victims would be reported, no matter how the blueblood killer's body count would go up, the urge was almost... attached to him.

through the tinted, mostly curtain-hidden windows, he could see her moving around. left and right she swayed, not getting enough sleep and forgetting basic self care because of her almost sick, he thought, altruistic urges. such a good, upstanding individual she was - someone to look up to, to worship... the woman deserved good, proper treatment only. especially from him - all the neglect is happening because his identity, still a secret, was wanted. tanner almost convinced himself that he feels pity and cries for her, being the source of her opposite of well-being, but in the end it's hard to judge and distinguish emotions while being hazed with mad, almost lusting feelings.

there was, however, no time to reflect the past actions, even if they're undoubtedly mingling with the present. he always did whatever his body and mind wanted, more or less heart. but he would be the last one to judge - there was no place for him and his 'sick' assessment. that being said, tanner finally realised he is in fact done waiting. their time together was pleasant and wholesome, but the urge will drive him to further madness if he won't do anyting about it soon. and since this isn't a mind matter, then it would be suitable to satisfy the flesh, disregarding the heart's wishes and indulge in the woman visible through the small gap in the curtains.

but his heart cannot be silenced this fast.

after searching for his trusted syringe and the mix of liquid midazolam and some other drug he put there previously, he cracked a small smile and sighed, being able to free himself after such a long time. his playtime with victims never lasted this long - this was but a miracle, something unexpected and ready to turn his peaceful, murderous life into something even more vile, dangerous and ruined. but the thought of disposing her like a loose trash didn't sit right with him; tanner was almost disgusted by the bare thought of causing her heart to stop permantly. he was having so much fun now, it'd be almost criminal... but, what is going to happen will eventually happen, so reveal himself to her, he shall.

the woman inside the cozy home was unaware of the terror right next her door, but even if she was - it didn't really matter. for her, the most important thing to do now was to catch that damned blueblood killer, to put end to the town's suffering... and her own grief. she's lost many of her friends and few family members to his wicked fantasies, and it only felt right to do something for the rapidly decreasing community. focused on her promethean task, she couldn't hear the light creak of her door and even lighter footsteps right behind her. only after tanner stood behind her, she could sense someone's presence. shiver ran down her spine, as she vividly remembered closing the door and definitely not inviting anyone, especially this late at night. fear paralyzed her, but then came the realisation.

it could be the blueblood killer. either she will get violently gutted, or she will make a life-changing discovery. and so, the captivating lady sighed, and prepared herself for the worst moments of her life. she turned around, surprising tanner. bold. she was definitely bold, unsure of the danger's scale, yet facing it bravely. his heart barely, but still, softened. endearing, so endearing... but it was too much for her. she closed her eyes right before facing him, squinting her eyes. his little plaything was even more captivating, he thought, smiling softly. though, she could never see it.

"who are you?" she asked, knowing well the answer is going to be fake or she will get no answer at all. or maybe some pistol on her forehead would be all she needed to know before her apparent, incoming demise? but she heard a small chuckle. "i'm the one you've been searching for. pardon me, miss, for keeping you up for so many nights. figured i'd better show myself in person."

his voice was oddly attractive. so pleasant to her ears, so pleasant she almost didn't get what he was saying - clearly, the murderer who got rid of solid few percents of the town's residents was before her, and he was aware of the search. well, it was obvious he will figure it out eventually, but the fact that he exactly knew that it was her... next thing she knew, his fingers were caressing her cheekbones, which made her open her eyes in a second. the sight made her lose her breath for a second.

the blueblood killer was undeniably handsome. sharp jaw, ideally shaped brows, perfect face ratio... not a single thing was wrong. he'd definitely pass as a model, or an angel, though the circumstances made her think of him as the devil. his appearance made it easy to sin. tempting. he was clearly her type, and deep inside of herself she was having a moral battle. she couldn't help the train of thoughts, all vile and lusting, all due to the bare sight of him. that didn't go unnoticed - tanner, as the aspiring master of knowing human reactions, realized she was captivated with him as much as she was with her. the syringe in his other hand, placed behind his back, almost fell to the floor. sweet, so sweet; it seems the paradise's gates won't be opened for him only.

"i've planned some fun activities for the two of us. don't worry, honey, you won't die. yet," the murderer smiled at the woman, terrified and enamored, still gazing at him. oh, how absurdly sweet she was... a perfect mix. with his large, gentle movements he still was caressing her cheek, but slowly moved down to her neck, tracing circles and various shapes. the lady was stunned - and tanner will also be as stunned as the detective, if he regains his mind clarity. but that did not matter; not for now, at least. she's here, next to him, looking at him with lust behind the pretty, sweet facade...

suddenly, the lady felt a sting on her neck. she hissed, and tanner shushed her, continuing to inject the tranquilizer liquid through the syringe. "this will only hurt for a while, i assure you. i wouldn't let you suffer for more, that is - unless you want me to," his poor, horrid jokes made her think about the event briefly, before losing consciousness. this is awful - she is awful, for even considering this monster as a human being, someone that could even potentially become her crush. but the shame can wait, she thought, as the man dressed in white lab coat and red tie came closer to her face and hovered above her, waving his hand as her eyes became droopy and eventually closed.

"good girl," tanner told her, though she couldn't hear those affectionate words. the effects were visible shortly - as if it were not for her perpetrator and his strong, muscular hands she would surely fall down, hitting herself and creating a possible injury. not today, tanner thought, not happening ever. why should she injure herself if the feared master of terror was always for her disposal? but even he wouldn't cut her too deep. the precious flesh of hers shall not be tainted with foolish, mortal-only limited bruises.

having his prized lady in his arms, he spared a few seconds more to admire her unconscious body. not like this was the first time he's seen it - this time was different, though, as he never actually held her like this. tanner closed his eyes swiftly, took a small, but deep breath and contemplated what to do next. it would be a shame to waste the precious liquid he just injected, though it was as precious as she was.

tanner knew her home well, sneaking inside when she wasn't home, and he was about to exploit this knowledge, just as he was about to exploit the sweet, sweet detective he oh-so-adored. holding her as softly as he could, but firm, he moved in the direction of her bedroom, clearly having some sort of a more detailed plan now. after entering, he put her still unconscious body on the big, fluffy bed and then went back to the living room to turn off the lights. should add some more vibes, tanner thought, grinning from ear to ear, as if it was his first time feeling happiness.

awakening from her slumber, she felt as if her wrists were restrained. and soon, she would learn her assumption was correct - although, it wasn't rope or anything extreme as she feared, no.. it was a fine, soft material, silk probably. sitting nice and tight on her skin. in her circumstances, getting tied up was the least she could worry about, and soon, she would find out; as the man's figure hovered over her body, multiple terrifying scenarios flashed her poor mind yet again. but was it surprising? no, it was expected even. her eyes became glassy, as if she'd cry in a second, at which tanner just... cooed. "oh, what's this now? i told you already, i won't let you suffer by my hand unless you want it," tanner replied, bringing his hand to her cheek and gently caressing her already tear-stained flawless skin.

the word gentle did not sit right with him, obviously. his actions were confusing to the extreme; but she wouldn't refuse anything the man would offer. not like she'd even be able to - but he made her think she has a choice and whatever happens next is up to her. what a cruel illusion - one of freedom and safety, that he won't take anything she doesn't want him to. in his mind, she was already his. equal to him, even, though he wouldn't like to see her running around with some sedatives, tranquilizing random people on the street like he does on some nights.

tanner did not retreat his hand, seeing his darling still conflicted but not showing any signs of reluctance. if anything, she was very compliant, and so he shall make sure she's rewarded for her obedience. "could you.. um.. untie me?" she asked, earning yet another one of tanner's smiles. what a silly girl, he thought, asking questions like this. but do whatever she wants him to do, he shall.

"no thrashing and squirming, okay? and i'll give you a piece of freedom," the man said, to which she nodded. she wouldn't want to cross him, never. bringing her arms closer, he slowly undid the bindings on her wrists, brushing his lips softly on the soft flesh of hers. it was somehow... intimate. the way he presented himself to her; she knew he's dangerous. one wrong move or word could probably get her killed, and yet - the way he is now with her speaks a whole different story. one couldn't just see him as a psychotic, sadistic murderer; not when his actions were those of a lover, not a killer. thinking about him in this way was surely a sin. the woman's train of thought, however, was rudely interrupted.

"stop thinking so much," he murmured against her ear. "no point in being so worried. i came here to do what i wanted for a long, long time, you know?" tanner started delicately biting the skin on her ear, chuckling a bit at his own words. "tonight, you shall become rightfully mine. i was thinking of claiming you in a different scenario but i just can't keep myself away from you, sweet girl." her breath hitched, in fear or excitement - she did not know. the anticipation, his face being so close to her own; she was surely about to go insane after tonight. and as tanner buried his face in her neck, she started trying to regain at least part of her mind's long gone clarity.

he's a murderer. a terrible person. he's creating hell on earth. she knows he is awful and she should scream in terror, but her fleshy, earthly desires are clouding her judgement a tad too much. up to this moment, she knew who he is - a killer. his sly antics tonight made her forget about his cruelty, but she shall see him as a criminal, a murderer yet again - he's going to kill her all the same, the difference will be the weapon of choice. he will stab her relentlessly all the same, but not with any blade or syringe. cursing her coveting mind, she brushed all concerns aside and let him have his way with her.

she's going to let him ruin her, deprave her - and she will enjoy every second of it.

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lightdancingwords · 5 days ago

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Come Find Me - Part Three

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Beau POV

Series Summary: You are a new arrival to Big Sky, Montana, and found gainful employment with the local insurance department next door to the sheriff’s department. A whole new life with your past haunting you, while Beau is still dealing with the entanglements with his ex-wife. Can either of you succeed in overcoming your ghosts?

Word Count: 4,214

Tags/Warnings: some fluff, some angst, divorce, child in middle of fighting parents, mention of domestic violence/intimate partner violence, profanity

Divider: credit to @tsunami-of-tears

A/N: I'm still learning tags and warnings, so if I got something wrong or mislabeled or missing, please let me know. I'm also still learning to do Y/N and "you" writing. Bear with me, folks! Enjoy!

Chapter Three: The Autumn Festival

Y/N had been working at The Big Guy for a couple of weeks, swamped with handling the clientele. In the mornings, you’d open up and be inundated with phone calls and appointments. Doris made sure you ate—she’d sit on you to make sure and nearly made that threat a reality once—and traded gossip with you. You actually looked forward to her visits; she was the calm that anchored your life. She was practical, hilarious, and willing to call you out when you put yourself down. She was great for your self-confidence.

Despite her warning the first time she brought you lasagna for lunch, Beau did not come to talk to you about the files. If anything, he seemed busy every time you saw him—he’d be on the cellphone, interviewing victims or witnesses, or doing a ton of paperwork. You felt your heart clench, confused.

You weren’t ready for a relationship, you’d told yourself a dozen times. Then you’d remember the way it felt when Beau held you and allowed you to cry into his chest and your heart ached. Men were definitely confusing, you decided.

One morning, as you arrived early to open the office, Doris caught you with a large poster in hand. “Mind if I post this on your door, sweetie?”

“What is it?” you asked, intrigued.

Doris showed you. It was a lovely orange-brown color with bright yellow words announcing Big Sky’s Autumn Festival. There was a list of events that would happen—a dance, potluck style buffet, a pumpkin carving contest, Big Sky’s largest pumpkin competition, and an apple bobbing contest. You boggled, amazed. Billings never had anything like that.

“Oh this is charming!” You gave Doris a smile. “Yeah, go ahead and put it on the door. I don’t have a problem with it.”

“Excellent! Got any tape, hon? I forgot to grab some.”

You nodded, and snatch the Scotch tape dispenser. Just as you turned back to hand it to Doris, you spot Beau stalking out of the sheriff department, a stormy look on his face. He slammed his truck door and took out of the parking lot with a squeal of wheels.

“What the… is everything all right, Doris?” you asked, handing her the tape dispenser.

She pursed her lips. “What I’m about to tell you, you are sworn to secrecy. Do I make myself clear?”

Your brows lift in surprise. “Of course.” You wondered what it could be that Doris was about to tell you that would require such a promise. Not that you’d go around gossiping.

“It’s Carla. She’s not letting Beau have Emily for Thanksgiving.” Doris’s expression spoke volumes as to her opinion on the matter.

“Oh.” You weren’t sure how to take that. “Is… is there a reason? I mean, don’t they all live here in Big Sky?”

“Yes,” Doris said with a frown. “But Carla wants to take Emily out of state to see family in Texas. Beau can’t take the time off to do it.”

“Oh…” Your heart sank, aching for Beau. “That has to be hard for him.”

“It is. It is.” Doris sighed, finished putting the poster on the door. “Doesn’t help he’s still half-in-love with Carla.”

Your heart clenched. “What?”

Doris must’ve heard something in your tone and gave you an apologetic look. “I know I said he looked smitten with you, hon, but—”

“No, it’s fine,” you said with a wave of your hand, lying through your teeth. In a way, yes, Doris’s comment had bolstered your hopes of maybe something happening, though you weren’t sure you could handle a relationship right now. The thought of competing against an ex-wife and a teenager wasn’t exactly on your Bingo card.

“Uh huh.” You swear, Doris had a built-in lie detector. “Look… it’s complicated. Just like it is for you.”

You swallowed hard, a lump in your throat. “It is…”

“You’ll get there, hon,” Doris said kindly. “I did.”

You blink in surprise. “You found love after Stan died?”

“Oh, wait until I tell you about Adam!” Doris laughed, low and full of affection. “But not right now. Beau’s comin’ back and lord, he looks set to burn.” She sighed and shook her head. “Will you come to the festival?”

You glanced at the poster. Normally you hated gatherings, but you knew it was because of Mark. Mark made everything impossible—if not for bruises, it was his attitude. You were free now, and no more black eyes. “I’ll be there,” you decided bravely.

“Excellent! We’ll see you Saturday!”

Doris left, heading out to the parking lot to meet Beau. His expression was still stormy. You watched him interact with Doris for a few moments, his eyes dark, his expression guarded. You felt your heart ache for him, wondered if it was a fight with Carla.

As though he sensed your gaze on him, Beau looked up. Even shaded, even dark with anger, the green of his eyes were undeniable. For a long moment, the two of you held each other’s eyes. Then, he nodded to you, and turned his attention back to Doris.

Heart pounding, you went back to work, answering the first call of the day.

—

“Well, it just ain’t fair, Carla—” Beau fumed as his ex-wife once again cut him off. He heard her, then snapped, “You can’t have her for both holidays, dammit! No I won’t watch my blasted language! She’s my daughter too!”

Doris watched him through the window of his office door, and more often than not, heard everything he was yelling into the phone. She shook her head sadly, waited for him to finish.

“I’m her father, Carla! I’d like to actually see her before the damned new year and have a goddamned—no, I won’t watch my tone or my language!” Beau pulled his phone from his ear and scowled when he realized Carla had hung up on him. It took everything he had not to fling the phone across the room.

He raked his fingers through his hair, resisting the urge to yank at his hair or punch the wall. It wasn’t that he was prone to violence; just that Carla had him thoroughly upset and he honestly didn’t know what to do. Technically, yes, Emily was old enough to make the decision to not see him for the holidays, but he didn’t think his daughter would actually avoid him.

God, he missed his daughter. She’d been so busy with school, with her extracurricular activities, with her boyfriend, and even working part-time over at Cassie’s private detective agency. He kept thinking that maybe she was avoiding him because of the kidnapping, that seeing him brought back the trauma, but Emily kept insisting it wasn’t that.

He just… missed her.

And Carla.

He missed his family. He missed what he had. He had something so beautiful and then he lost it because of a goddamned bullet. Beau clutched at his cellphone hard, his head bent, as he struggled with the intense emotions swirling inside him.

He heard the polite knock on his door and looked up to see Doris entering. He let out a sigh and stood up straight, tucking his cellphone into his pocket.

“Carla’s not cooperating, is she?” Doris asked, straight to the point.

“She says it’s Emily,” Beau muttered.

Doris narrowed her eyes at Beau. “Why don’t you believe her?”

“Because I—” Beau bit off the rest of his comment.

“Because you can’t let her go,” Doris concluded and shook her head.

Beau turned away, clenching his jaw. He honestly hated how observant Doris could be at times, and this was one of them. She just saw through the bullshit and called him out, even when he threatened to fire her over it.

“Beau… don’t make me say it again,” Doris scolded fondly.

His shoulders tensed.

She rolled her eyes and proceeded to say it again. “Carla’s moved on. She’d remarried once, widowed, and last I heard, she and her new boyfriend are doing pretty damned well.”

“I know that!” he snapped, turning to face Doris.

“Well, then, act like it!” Doris retorted, not at all afraid of his anger, the threat of losing her job, none of it. “How long you gonna hold onto this dead marriage? Before or after it chokes you?”

“I—” Beau let out a heavy sigh and slapped his hand on the desk.

Doris regarded him with something akin to pity. She used to have a ton of compassion for him, then as time went by, she realized that he was clinging to something that festered like an infected wound. He couldn’t let Carla go, because he still loved her. But clearly, Carla moved on, finding love not once, but twice, since the end of their marriage.

One sided love wasn’t love, but obsession. Doris was going to keep smacking that into Beau until he finally learned that lesson.

“Is Emily leaving town this weekend?”

“What?” Beau looked up, confused by the odd question. “No. She’ll be here.”

“Invite her to the Autumn Festival then,” Doris said. “Spend the weekend with her. Have fun.”

Beau blinked at Doris, as he realized she was right. The festival would be a nice event to spend with Emily.

Doris rolled her eyes. “I swear, Beau, you’re thickheaded at times.” She shook her head. “Call Carla back, apologize for yelling at her, and extend the invitation to Emily. Have fun with your daughter this weekend.”

Beau scowled at Doris, grabbed his cellphone, muttering profanities under his breath.

Doris smirked and left his office.

—

It was festival day. The weather was brisk with just enough sunlight to keep the temperature on the warm side. You picked a simple light sweater, jeans, and comfortable low boots, your hairstyle simple to keep the wind from throwing your hair in your face, and your makeup basic. You looked, in your mind and opinion, cute.

Arriving at the festival, you found that the downtown of Big Sky had been taken over by all sorts of harvest and autumn theme decorations. As though Halloween and Thanksgiving wasn’t enough, they simply had to insist on additional festivities. You found you didn’t mind, because it was charming and fun, a way to cling to the warm weather before Montana winter kicked in.

You parked at the local public parking and opted to walk the way to downtown. There were crowds of families of all colors, shapes and sizes. One family in particular had you aching, because they were juggling a number of small children and a baby in a stroller. The dream you wished you could have.

Determined not to let Mark and your past bring you down today, you shoved that thought into the back of your mind. Today was a day of fun. You’re gonna have fun, dang it.

“Y/N!”

You looked back and saw Doris heading up to you. She was wearing a cheerful orange sweater that didn’t quite hurt your eyes, with pumpkin-topped hair pins in her bun. You couldn’t help it, her appearance made you smile.

“Hi Doris!”

“I’m so glad you could make it,” Doris said, grabbing a hold of your elbow. “I have so many people to introduce you to! You’ll love them! Maybe make a friend or two!”

“But—”

“Nonsense. Come on.”

You surrendered to the force of nature that was Doris and resigned yourself to being shown off to a number of people in Big Sky. You ended up introducing yourself multiple families, multiple groups of women, and quite a few of the men. Most were friendly, with a couple of seemingly off-putting personalities.

By the end, you felt smiled out and ready to isolate yourself for a bit. Maybe grab a snack or try the apple cider you kept seeing folks with. Doris seemed to sense you needed to recharge and dragged you to the food vendors.

“I expect to see you by the dance floor later, hon,” she said with a smile, waving you off.

You could only stare after her. Definitely a formidable woman. You shook your head with a small smile, and decided to indulge in some apple cider.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You nearly spill your drink as you jerked around and saw Beau with a young woman with dark brown hair and dark eyes. Instantly, you knew she had to be Beau’s daughter, because there was something about the shape of her mouth and eyebrows that made you think of him.

“Hey!” You smile; the smile came so easily.

“Hey. Y/N, this is Emily, my daughter.” Beau gestured to you. Emily stepped forward, offering her hand. You took it easily as he continued the introduction. “Em, this is Y/N. She works for Arthur at The Big Guy.”

“Oh yeah! Arthur’s such a hoot,” Emily said. Her grip was firm. It instantly reminded you of how Beau shook your hand.

“You’ve met him?” you ask, genuinely interested.

Emily nodded brightly. “Oh yeah! I was visiting my dad at the department and Arthur came in ‘cause one of his clients needed a little more help than he initially thought. Before you know it, I’m hearing all sorts of language from dad’s office.”

You laugh, glancing at Beau to confirm. He had this pained look on his face that had you biting back another laugh.

“Not the best introduction,” Beau said simply.

“I learned a lot of new words,” Emily said with a cheery grin.

Beau groaned, covering his face with his hand for a moment. You gave in and laughed some more.

“He’s definitely a colorful character,” you said in agreement. “I never had a boss like him before.”

“I’ll bet!” Emily beamed. “I’m sure you learned a few new words you could teach me.”

“Em!”

You grinned, amused at Beau’s outrage. “Fortunately for your father, no, I didn’t. I’ve been covering the office while Arthur’s been out of state dealing with some family problems.”

“Oh. Darn.”

“Em!”

You bit back a laugh. You liked Emily. “You’re planning to go to college, Emily?”

“I am! I’ve been looking at University of Texas,” she announced. Beau glanced at her in surprise. Clearly that was news to him too.

“Then trust me,” you confided with a playful grin meant for Beau, “you’ll learn a whole lot when you get there.”

“You are not helping,” Beau accused.

“I’m supposed to corrupt young people,” you said with a smile.

Beau threw you an exasperated look that had you laughing. Emily even joined in the laugh, her dark eyes sparkling.

“In all seriousness,” you said with a smile. “What do you plan on studying at U of T?”

“I’ve been interesting in doing videos and recording, so maybe media,” Emily said.

Beau glanced at her. “I thought you gave that up after last year?” he asked. There was something in his tone that pricked your interest. You wondered if it was related to the kidnapping that involved Emily and the serial killer.

“Well… I decided that I wasn’t going to let Buck destroy my joy,” Emily said, her response measured.

“That’s very brave of you, Emily,” you said gently, entirely understanding where the young woman was coming from. You found yourself thinking about the joy Mark had taken from you, and what you had just said to Emily. Maybe it was time to recapture some of the joy he denied you.

Emily straightened under your praise. Evidently it meant a great deal to her that you were impressed. You wondered what Beau told her about you.

“I’m going to get some churros, okay, dad?” Emily asked, before adding to you, “It’s really nice to meet you, Y/N! I’ll see you around.”

You waved ‘bye’ to Emily, and she left you and Beau alone.

“She’s a lovely girl, Beau,” you murmured, glancing up at him. “She’s got your spirit.”

“You never met her mom,” Beau said, wry and amused.

You chuckle. “Is she here? I’d love to meet her.”

“God, Y/N, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Oh, Beau, it can’t possibly be that bad,” you chide gently.

He sighed, rubbed his face. “I’m sorry. It’s been a bad few days.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. You truly were. Beau seemed like a sweet man who had a bad hand a few times in his life.

“No, it…” He shook his head. “It’s not your problem, Y/N.”

You stiffen, offended. “I thought we were at least friends, Beau.”

“What?”

“Or… oh.” You took a step back. “It really was just… words. Nevermind.”

It stung. You did care about Beau. You thought he actually cared about you. Your mind flashed back to the hug, the way he comforted you. Maybe you read too much in that moment. God. You felt stupid. The emotions were swirling in turmoil inside you.

Damn Doris for getting your hopes up.

“No, Y/N, that’s not it,” Beau said, stepping forward and gently grabbing your arm. “Hey…” He gently gripped your shoulders, meeting your gaze. “This ain’t easy for me,” he went on, his voice low and soft.

“What isn’t?” you asked, your voice equally low.

“I…” He released her shoulders. His jaw clenched as he struggled with his emotional upheaval. “We are friends,” he said at last, his voice tight.

“Then why does it sound like it kills you to just say that?” you asked, searching his face. “Friendship shouldn’t be hard, Beau.”

“You ain’t being fair,” he said.

“I’m not being fair?” you echoed in disbelief. “You said you cared and then you turned around and acted like I don’t!”

“What? No, that’s not—”

“I need some air,” you said, cutting him off. The miscommunication between the two of you was distressing you to proportions you weren’t able to handle in that moment. When you saw Beau take a step toward you, you held up a hand. “Don’t! I just… I need a moment, Beau. Please.”

You saw his jaw clench and he swallowed hard, as though holding back a response. Then he held his hands up and stepped back. You let out a relieved breath and walked away, your thoughts all tumult. Relationships, god, they were so difficult. She could barely handle a friendship, what made her think she could handle anything more? And Beau—

“Hey Y/N,” Emily greeted, holding a churro in her hand. She paused, then studied your face. “Oh. Dad got stupid, huh?”

You blink, blink again. “H-how…?”

Emily smiled ruefully. “Dad’s in the habit of doing stupid shit.”

“I should scold you for language, but I did say I’d corrupt you,” you joked. Such a bad joke, but Emily grinned.

“But yeah…” Emily sighed. “Dad’s… done stupid stuff. He does foot in mouth all the time. He should, like, get an award or something.”

You smile, bemused. “Any tips on how to get him to remove that foot out of his mouth?”

“You mean, besides, like, yelling at him like my mom does?”

“Yes.” You pause, rub the back of your neck. “I don’t think that works though. Um, no offense, but I’ve seen the look on your father’s face after he’s argued with your mom.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve seen it too,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “My parents are rather infamous for it.” She huffed the breath of an exasperated teenager. “Dad’s just more stubborn than mom.”

“Got any tips?” The words came out before you could stop yourself. “Shit. Oh god, Emily, I—”

Emily was laughing. “I’ve heard worse. Don’t worry.”

“No, it’s not that.” You met Emily’s dark eyes and decided to treat her like an adult. “I shouldn’t be putting you in the middle of any disagreement I’m having with your father.”

“That’s okay. I like you, Y/N. Dad does too. I could tell.”

Your brows felt as though they were going to fly off your forehead. Emily saw and laughed. She shook her head and looped her arm around yours.

“Come on,” Emily said, walking with you through the festival vendors. “Look. Dad’s… stubborn. Mom described it as rock headed and mule stubborn. I always thought that was funny. I kinda get it from him too. Also why we butt heads a lot.”

Bemused, you listened to her as she rambled on.

“Ever since my parents split… dad kinda dug his heels in and wouldn’t move. Drove me crazy. I watched mom date, get a boyfriend, got married. I mean, okay, he also died—” Emily’s voice shook, then she cleared her throat. “But… mom moved on. I know she loves dad. She always will. I’ve seen them together, and I see that they still love each other. It’s just… dad’s still being an idiot.”

You let out a surprised laugh. “Do your parents know you’re this perceptive?”

“No.” Emily laughed, her hair brushing her shoulders as she shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think they look at me and think I’m still 10.”

“God, I remember that feeling.”

Emily grinned. “But you’re not wrong. Mom… she seems to think if she yells at dad enough, he’ll stop being stupid. It doesn’t work.”

You slant a look at her. She was definitely a mature young woman. You suspected Emily did a lot of growing after her kidnapping… or maybe even during her parents’ divorce. “So what would?”

“Turn it on him. Don’t yell, get him to think. Not like how Doris does it,” she added with a laugh. “She gets away with it because dad doesn’t want to lose the lasagna.”

You laugh. “It really is good lasagna. I can see why he’s terrified of losing it.”

“Well, it’s not just that. Dad’s an awful cook. That lasagna is his one homemade meal.”

“Oh my god. Are you serious?”

“Yes.” Emily grinned, and you saw the difference. You hadn’t met Carla, but suspect that was what you saw in the young woman.

“You’re very wise, Emily,” you said at last, as the two of you ended up at the music stage. The band was beginning to tune their instruments, check the settings of the speakers and microphone. There were ropes to divide a section for sitting and listening or for those who wanted to dance.

“Thanks, but I know I’m not,” Emily said with a half-smile. “I got a lot to learn.”

“That’s wisdom you know,” you said kindly. “Knowing we need to learn. That we don’t know everything. It takes a lot of strength to say that openly.”

Emily slanted a look at you, then asked quietly, “Doesn’t that mean you’re also brave?”

You paused, and glanced at Emily. “Because I asked for help?”

“Even if you didn’t mean to at first, yeah,” Emily said earnestly.

“Thank you, Emily,” you said, having a better understanding of how to approach Beau. Not to mention, a growing friendship with this incredible young woman. “Remind me to trade phone numbers with you before you leave. If you ever need someone to talk to.”

Emily brightened. “I’d like that!” The band began a lively tune and she glanced over at them. “Um, you okay if I go watch?”

“Absolutely.”

You smile as Emily went running to join a group of equally same aged young women. Probably schoolmates or friends. You stood there for a long moment, a warm feeling in your heart. You liked this young woman. She was intelligent, kind, with a bit of sass. Even if things between you and Beau soured, you hoped to remain friends with her.

A familiar presence brushed your senses, and you knew Beau had caught up with you. You took a deep breath to steady yourself, and glanced at him. “Hey…”

“Hey darlin’,” he said, his voice quiet. “Listen… I’m sorry.”

“No,” you murmured, turning to look at him. “I am. I was forcing something when you weren’t ready. I’d probably have better luck pushing a mountain.” You smile gently at him. “I mean, you are kind of similar to one.”

He chuckled low in his throat. “Smartass.”

You grinned, then sobered. “I hope you can tell me what’s going on someday. You’ve been so kind to me, and I care about you.”

Beau met and held your gaze, and something flickered in his green eyes. Something that sparked a kindle of hope in your heart. “Thanks, darlin’,” he said softly, brushing back a loose strand of your hair.

The music changed and he glanced up. He shifted his gaze to you and held out a hand. “May I have this dance?”

Your smile bloomed and took his hand. For the remainder of that night, you and Beau danced. He taught you a particular Texas dance that had you laughing and falling out of step more often than not. He spun you around in a lively waltz. When the evening closed with the last song, he held you close, his hands at your waist.

When the festival lights began to dim, vendors closing up and cleaning out their merchandise, you knew it was time. Beau looked at you for the longest time, something soft and sweet in those brilliant green eyes. He touched your cheek, a whisper of a caress, and murmured his good night.

Heart pounding, you found yourself whispering the good night back and parted ways.

#come find me #beau arlen #big sky #jensen ackles #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x f. reader #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x y/n #beau arlen fanfiction #big sky fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jackles #taylor writes #taylor's writing #taylor's light dancing words #divider by tsunami of tears

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440mxs-wife · 23 days ago

Text

The Country Doctor, Chapter 5: Going Home

Pairing: Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy x F!Reader (eventual). Other Characters are the usual suspects: Jim Kirk, Nyota Uhura, Spock, Christine Chapel, Scotty, Guinan. Jocelyn (Leonard's ex-wife, mentioned)

Word Count: 4955

Warnings: Medical stuff, Leonard slipping into "doctor mode", supportive townspeople, friends trying to get Leonard and the Reader to confront their feelings about each other, scheming CEO, escape from the hospital, Jim still being his usual, charming, mischievous self. Slow burn (I know) but it's going to heat up a bit here and going forward.

Summary: Fresh off of his divorce, Dr. McCoy receives word that he has inherited a 5,000-acre farm and home in Logan, Montana. Finally, he has an opportunity for a clean slate and to start his own clinic out west and leave his ex-wife behind. Along the way, he'll meet a cast of unique characters, each with a place in his new small-town life. But there could be trouble ahead in the form of a powerful CEO hell-bent on acquiring Leonard's property by any means necessary.

A/N: This idea was posted by @hailbop1701, with a specific list of plot points/dialog, which will appear in bold in this chapter. Still not sure how many parts there'll be, but I hope you like where I take the story. Also, I have intermixed AOS with NextGen to include additional characters.

A/N 2: If you’ve been tagged here, it’s because you’ve interacted one or more times on a McCoy story of mine, or we’re moots. Whether you like or reblog, I am eternally grateful for your support. If anyone else would like to be tagged on any future Karl Urban character postings, or would rather leave the Crazy Train, please let me know. Thank you, and enjoy the show!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Previously:

"If it's a war they want, I'll give them a war."

The incessant beeping from the machines at your bedside finally broke through the fog of your concussion. You tried to move your bandaged right arm, then noticed it was partially held down by hands tucked under a head full of dark hair. A gentle smile curved your lips as you recognized who was keeping vigil at your bedside.

As you carefully attempted to slide your hand out, Leonard stirred awake. His head slowly rose and he looked around before eventually his gaze landed on you. He leisurely blinked his eyes as they adjusted to the brightness level of your room and flashed you a tender smile. "Hey, you're awake," he murmured.

"You noticed," you teased. "Where am I? How long have I been out? What's the prognosis, Doc?"

"One question at a time, darlin'," he chuckled. "You're at the hospital in Belgrade, where you've been out for the past day or so." He moved to sit on the edge of your bed and explained about your concussion, broken left arm, plus the second-degree burns. "Your prognosis is good, although you've got some recovery time ahead of you. And you can bet I'll be makin' sure you're takin' it easy. Doctor's orders," he winked.

"Whatever you say, Doc," you quipped, then dropped your gaze to your hands in your lap. "Thank you, Len. 'M real sorry I interrupted your fishin' trip with Jim. Have you been here this whole time?"

"Been here pretty much since Uhura told us you were brought in. And don't you worry none about the fishin' trip, sweetheart. That's not important. What is important is there were hardly any injuries, yours being the most serious. As you can see, though, we got you patched up, and you're safe now," he affirmed.

A knock on the door paused your conversation as you called out and granted entrance to your room. Jim carried a vase of flowers, while Uhura brought in a bag with the pharmacy's logo on it. When you asked her about it, she explained that Mr. Spock and Christine put in a few magazines, plus your Lemon Drops and some Butterscotch Disks.

"How nice of them to do that," you remarked, your eyes becoming glassy. You cleared your throat to regain your composure. "Oh! That reminds me. I'll need to reorder our clinic supplies from the pharmacy, since everything was in the back of the truck."

"Will you please relax? Let me contact Spock, and we'll get the supply order all sorted out. You just focus on getting enough rest so you can get out of here," Leonard replied.

"What're you talkin' about, I am rested," you protested weakly as you yawned, and your eyelids began to droop again.

Leonard gave you a barely-contained grin and rested a hand on your cheek. "Uh-huh, yeah, keep tellin' yourself that, sweetheart," he lightly chuckled.

When he stood up to leave, you grabbed his hand. "Please don't go," you pleaded softly.

"Close your eyes and rest, darlin', I won't be gone long. Jim and I are going back to the house and get cleaned up, then we'll come right back here, I promise. Need anything from home?" he asked.

"Mmm, maybe my toothbrush, please?" you mumbled.

Leonard bent down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "You got it, sugar," he whispered. "Nyota's going to stay with you while we run home, okay?" You nodded slowly in response, your eyes already closed and halfway to dreamland. He met Uhura on the way out of your room. "Take care of our girl, hmm?"

"Of course, Dr. McCoy," she replied with a knowing grin. In response, he rolled his eyes with a smirk as he strode down the hall.

***

A short time later, the car wove its way along the highway returning to the McCoy family home. On the way back, the conversation was sporadic, with the silence filled by the music from the radio, playing at a low volume.

Mostly, they talked about how worried they were for you and how to make your recovery at home as easy as possible. They also speculated about who was behind the attack. "Tell you this much, Jim. I'm not going to stop until we find the sonofabitch who's behind all of this," Leonard growled.

"I'm right with you, Bones. You know you can count on me and just about everyone else in this town to help you," Jim vowed. Leonard nodded his head in thanks.

As they turned up the driveway, they noticed a few unfamiliar cars parked near the house. "Um, Bones, were you expecting company? 'Cause it looks like we have some people waiting for us," he gestured towards the figures rising from their seats on the porch.

Jim and Leonard slowly exited the car and cautiously approached the house. As they got closer, they were relieved to see that their visitors included Mr. Spock, Christine, and Scotty. Also in attendance was Guinan, whom they'd had yet to meet, until today.

"Good evening, Dr. McCoy. We hope you can forgive us for appearing on your doorstep without a prior invitation," Spock began. After everyone was again seated, he asked about your condition.

"She's fine, Nyota's staying with her at the hospital. They haven't mentioned when she'll be discharged, but I'll take a look at her chart the next time I see her. Once she gets home, I hope she'll do what's best and take plenty of time to rest. Not that I think she'll listen," Leonard commented, the others smiling in agreement.

"A fine, strong woman, that one," Scotty observed. "Have the authorities figured out who did this? I mean, why would anyone want to hurt a lass as kind and sweet as she is?"

"Indeed, Mr. Scott, but perhaps she was not the target," Spock suggested. "After all, it was Dr. McCoy's truck to which the explosive device was attached. The perpetrator would not have had any reason to believe that someone other than Dr. McCoy had driven the vehicle to town."

'Wait a minute, are you suggesting that I was the target??" McCoy exclaimed. "Why would anyone try to kill me?! I'm not important!"

Immediately, a chorus of protests arose from multiple directions. "I believe your statement is incorrect, Doctor," Spock remarked.

"Aww, Bones, you're the best out of all of us," Jim agreed. "We all know that gruff, cantankerous, sarcastic layer of yours is just a cover for your true compassionate nature. My theory is that NorthStar Corp had something to do with it. Especially, considering how relentless they've been about getting you to sell to them," he noted grimly.

"The lad has a point, Doctor. Whatever is on this land you have, they want it, and they've proven that they're willing to cross any line to get it. And they don't care who gets in the way," Scotty muttered.

Leonard thought for a moment about what his friends were saying, and realized there was more than a kernel of truth in their words. He was deep in thought, trying to decide how to best handle the situation, when he felt a hand on his arm. He jerked back in surprise, then eventually relaxed when he saw who it was.

"Hello, Dr. McCoy, my name is Guinan. It's nice to meet you, though I wish it were under better circumstances. I own a little place called the Tenth Avenue Pub, where I tend bar and I listen," she explained.

"Yeah, I've heard of your place. Been meaning to stop in, but haven't had the time," he replied.

"It's a nice place, even if I do say so myself. You should come by some time. By the way, I sure liked your Uncle Walter. He was one of my regulars, and I spent many a night listening to his stories. He had some good ones, ol' Walter," Guinan grinned as she gave him a sideways glance. "One night, he even shared with me some old records from a survey done on this land," she revealed.

Leonard leaned forward in his seat with his curiosity now obviously piqued. "Really? What did the reports say?"

"They revealed extensive veins of copper and silver all over your property, running beneath the earth's surface. Not only that, but he found some blue stones in a couple of areas that turned out to be sapphires. Valuable ones, too. I believe all of that is what NorthStar Corp is after, Dr. McCoy," Guinan finished.

Leonard's mouth dropped open in surprise at this revelation. His mind reeled with the possibilities of what he could accomplish as a doctor by having that kind of wealth. He also understood that there were some persistent people who would stop at nothing to acquire these resources. They could be among the ones who attacked you and were therefore dangerous. "All right, what do I do?" he asked.

"You need to contact a surveyor to get an updated analysis. I believe the company your uncle used is still in business, Blue Mountain Survey and Mining Corp. With them, you'll finally know what you've got going on under this land of yours. Then, you can decide what to do about it," Guinan advised.

"Good idea, thank you. I'm sorry, everyone, but Jim and I only stopped home long enough to clean up. Then we, or at least I, need to get back to the hospital. As I promised her," he murmured the last part, mostly to himself.

Upon hearing Leonard's last comment, Spock convinced Guinan and the others to take their leave. He assured Dr. McCoy that everyone would take turns keeping an eye on the place while he was away, assisting in your recovery. Each of them shook his hand as they passed him on the way to their cars and offered their wishes for your swift return.

***

After everyone left, Jim and Leonard entered the house, each to take a shower, pack a few things, then return to the hospital. Leonard suggested that Jim could stay home if he wanted, instead of going back, but he wouldn't hear of it. He said you were his friend, and as such, he should be there to keep you company, even if it was just to sit there and tell dumb jokes. Leonard agreed and smiled at Jim's dedication to your friendship.

From his drawers, he pulled a few days' change of clothes, mainly T-shirts and jeans, plus sleeping attire. He also grabbed pajamas and a change of clothes for you, knowing you would need something to wear when you left the hospital. When he withdrew the clothes from your dresser, he brought them to his nose, closed his eyes, and deeply inhaled. He detected a hint of rose, mixed with something that was uniquely you.

When he started to stuff everything in his bag, he abruptly stopped and listened. The house was quiet, too quiet. He became aware that it was because you weren't there to fill it with your laughter, your questions, or your singing in the kitchen or shower. Suddenly, his heart ached in places he thought he'd completely closed off after the divorce. He realized that it was due to your absence and he sat down on the edge of the bed.

That was how Jim found him when he came in to check and see if his friend was ready to go. He took a seat next to Leonard, who was staring at the wall in front of him. "Hey, Bones, you okay? What's going on?" he asked.

Leonard took a deep breath before answering. "It's too quiet here without her here. Feels so empty, but she's everywhere I look. She's only been moved in with us for a few weeks, and I'm already so used to her being here. With what happened that day with my truck, I-I almost lost her, Jim. If she....if....if I....," he trailed off, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"You care about her, Bones. It's okay to finally admit you like her," Jim grinned, happy that his friend at last realized his feelings.

"Of course I like her, what's not to like?" Leonard countered.

"No, no, you like her, like really, really like her," Jim teased.

Leonard snorted. "What are we, in elementary school? Next thing you know, you'll be singing that damn song about us sitting in a tree and k-i-s-s-i-n-g or something," he grumbled.

"Well, I could do that, but I've been told I have a terrible singing voice," Jim smirked. "Seriously, you should tell her how you feel, then kiss her the very next time you have a chance." He continued despite his friend's glare. "You belong together and everyone knows it except the two of you," he added with a shrug.

"Everyone? Who, exactly, is 'everyone'?" he wondered.

"Let's see. Me, Uhura, Spock, Christine, Scotty--" Jim ticked the names off on his fingers, one by one, but was interrupted.

"Okay, okay, I get it," he sighed. "You know, I didn't think I ever wanted to be in another relationship, not after what I went through with Jocelyn and the divorce. As you noted earlier, I'm grumpy, cantankerous, and what else did you say? Oh, yeah. Sarcastic. Usually all of that keeps women away, but not my girl. Noooo, she must see me as a challenge, one she's not willing to back down from," he finished with a wry grin.

"You don't really want your girl to back down, though, do you?" Jim asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Nope," McCoy answered, a mischievous smile crossing his face as he finished packing his bag.

***

Boston, Massachusetts - Headquarters for NorthStar Corp, CEO's office

Miles Cooper was seething. First, Travis Myers failed to produce results through a contract signed by Dr. McCoy over his land. He was fired, which sent him on a downward spiral, and out of control. As part of some misguided revenge for her tanking the deal with McCoy, Travis decided to set his ex-girlfriend's apartment on fire. Unfortunately, the blaze got out of control and spread to the other units. The building was declared a total loss and displaced around 15 tenants, including some with children.

Fortunately, it didn't take long for the authorities to catch up to Travis and charge him with First-Degree Arson. Such a charge carried a sentence up to a maximum of 20 years in prison, if convicted. And, with the newly-discovered security camera footage, conviction appeared highly likely to occur. What an idiot, he muttered to himself.

Second, the explosive that his operative attached to the truck didn't harm Dr. McCoy in any way, because he was nowhere near it when it was destroyed. It was the perfect plan on paper, yet the execution of it epically failed, since it missed his intended target. In fact, you were the one in the hospital, recovering from injuries, which only seemed to strengthen Dr. McCoy's resolve. I am surrounded by incompetence, he inwardly grumbled.

A tentative knock on his door broke him out of the silent rant going through his head. "What?!?" he barked. His assistant, Connor Morris, pushed open the door and strode up to Cooper's desk to hand over a piece of paper, his boss' patience already thin. What about this document could possibly be important enough to warrant an interruption?

As Cooper read through the document, he became more frustrated as he learned that Dr. McCoy had called for a new survey of his land. He'd already secured a team attached to a mining company, further complicating an already tense situation. Dammit. If McCoy ever discovers what he's inherited, he'll never sell to NorthStar Corp. I've got to do something and do it fast, Cooper thought.

His eyes left the paper to address his assistant. "Call an emergency board meeting. Tell them we have a situation that needs handled at once. Attendance is mandatory," he ground out. Connor nodded and swiftly exited the office to begin making the necessary phone calls.

Maybe I've been going about this all wrong. So far, blunt force hasn't worked, what with the apartment fire and blowing up McCoy's truck. No, perhaps the matter calls for a softer touch. He knew about McCoy's ex-wife, who was currently married to a real-estate developer. She was tired of the long hours and less than first-class lifestyle as the wife of a doctor. So, she traded in a doctor for a real-estate mogul and ascended a few rungs on the social ladder.

When Dr. McCoy moved to Montana, he left her and her now-husband in his rear-view mirror. I think it's about time for a reunion, Cooper smiled to himself as a plan formulated in his mind. Considering the wealth potential for the McCoy land, he anticipated Jocelyn's greed would win out and bring her to Montana. With the board members' gluttony, they would offer little to no resistance for this course of action. Satisfied with his solution, Cooper leaned back in his chair and rested his steepled index fingers against his lips, an evil grin snaking across his face.

***

Uhura quietly turned the page on the magazine she was reading while you slept. She was still trying to come to grips with how close she came to losing you, her best friend. It was by sheer luck that you survived, considering your injuries. It would be a long road to recovery, but she was sure you were strong enough to get through it. Especially with Dr. McCoy on your side, every step of the way, she grinned to herself.

When will these two wise up and admit how they feel about each other? she wondered. It was a conversation she'd had many times with Jim, who was just as frustrated as she was. Only his situation was worse, because he had to live under the same roof with you and Leonard pining for each other. Uhura shook her head in silent amusement, wishing her two friends could see for themselves what was already obvious to everyone who knew them.

"Hey, stranger," you murmured, your eyelids fluttering open. "I see you drew the short straw, huh?"

Uhura chuckled softly. "Nah, I don't mind the quiet, as long as that means you're getting the rest you need after what you've been through," she affirmed, squeezing your hand. "Plus, it gives me time to think about....stuff."

"Oh really?" you returned with an arched eyebrow. "What 'stuff' are you thinking about?"

"About you and Dr. McCoy," she replied simply.

"What about Dr. McCoy and me? We're just friends, Nyota," you assured her.

She rolled her eyes at your assertion. "My dear, sweet friend, when are you going to admit that there is more going on between you than 'just friends'? I've seen the way you look at each other, and there are 'more than friendly' glances passing between you," she pointed out, grabbing your hands. "He looks at you like you're the only woman in the world. You look at him like he hung the stars and the moon, just for you."

Your eyes widened in surprise and bit of panic. Does Leonard know? Oh god, am I that obvious? you thought. "I mean....it feels like we've gotten closer since I've been living at his house, but....I'm sure it's all in my imagination," you declared hastily as you pulled your hands away.

Uhura dropped her head into her hands and groaned loudly in frustration. Before she had a chance to comment any further, the subject of the conversation strode through the door. In his hands, he held a bouquet of yellow tulips, gardenias, and pink roses in a decorative crystal vase. "Just friends, huh?" Uhura snickered.

"Quiet," you hissed, then beamed a smile at Leonard. "You're back! And you look refreshed," you commented.

He returned your smile as he placed the flowers on the table near your bed. "Amazing how a little soap and some hot water can make a man feel like himself again," he replied, then reached for your chart.

Before his fingers could grasp it, a man named Dr. Bennett strode into the room. He wasn't the same doctor as had been treating you since you arrived, which raised your suspicions. You tried to keep your expression neutral as Dr. Bennett reviewed your vital signs, inspected your injuries, and asked about your pain level. "You seem to be healing well, no complications so far. Any questions?" he wondered.

"Um, well, just one: when can I go home?" you asked.

Dr. Bennett heaved a deep sigh and appeared reluctant to give you an exact number of days. The more you pressed him about leaving, the more reasons he came up with to keep you. Nothing you said was convincing enough to get him to agree to release you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Leonard's level of suspicion and annoyance also rise. His eyes darkened and his fists were clenched at his sides as he tried to maintain his composure. You reached over and as soon as you touched his hand, it relaxed and he intertwined his fingers with yours. Fortunately, Dr. Bennett's phone rang and informed him that his assistance was needed elsewhere in the hospital. He gave you one last glance before heading out the door.

"I don't know what that guy's problem is, but he's up to something. I read your chart, and there's no reason for you to stay here any longer," Leonard muttered. "We're going to sneak you out of here, don't you worry," he promised and squeezed your hand.

"Are you sure something's going on? Maybe he's just being overly cautious or--" you started.

"He may be a 'doctor', but he could have a PhD in Ornithology, for all we know. That doesn't make him qualified to be your physician, so we're gettin' you out," he replied with determination.

"I'm all for going home, Len. However, you have your own stuff to deal with, I don't want to add to it," you finished in a small voice.

He sat down on the edge of the mattress and gazed fondly at you. His right hand found your cheek and his thumb caressed your skin. "Listen. For me, taking care of you is not some duty or obligation. You've become an important piece in my life, and I'll do whatever is needed to keep it that way," he declared.

Your right hand reached up to cover his and as you ran your thumb over the back of it, you sent him a shy smile. "All right. Let's get out of here."

***

"Okay, we don't have much time," Jim whispered. "I saw a laundry area down the hall. Be right back." Within a few minutes, he had returned with a set of scrubs, which he basically threw at Leonard and gestured towards your in-room bathroom. "Go change, we'll wait out here for you."

Leonard stood stunned for a moment but broke out of his haze when Jim made a shooing motion with his hands. He reappeared a few minutes later after he had exchanged his regular clothes for scrubs. Jim handed him a doctor's long, white coat with the hospital's name embroidered on it to complete the illusion.

"Now we're going to get you unhooked from everything, then Uhura is going to help you get dressed. We'll leave the I.V. in for now, but disconnect you from the fluid bag. That way we won't alert the staff or anything," he explained.

"You're the doc, Doc," you sighed. Leonard caught your smaller hand in one of his larger ones, his thumb gently rubbing circles on the back of it, then returned to his duties. He maintained eye contact with you while he unscrewed the connection between the I.V. port and the bag of solution hanging from the pole. When he was done, he tenderly kissed the back of your hand and winked as he released it.

"While Uhura helps you get changed into regular clothes, Jim and I will try and hunt down a wheelchair to take you out in. You still feelin' okay? How's your pain level?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

"I'm fine, Len, just anxious to get home and sleep in my own bed," you assured him.

As soon as he left, you removed your finger from the pulse oximeter and as quickly as your injuries would allow, you hurried into the bathroom. An alarm sounded and a nurse rushed into your room to make sure you hadn't fallen or were in any kind of distress. She called your name and when she heard you answer from behind the closed door, she turned off the alarm. "Let me know when you're back in bed and I'll hook everything back up, okay?"

You gave a noncommittal grunt in response and you were relieved when you heard her retreating footsteps. "That was close," you muttered. "Hand me my shirt, please?" She passed you the T-shirt that Leonard had packed for you, which looked very much like one of his. Uhura noticed as well and smirked as she helped you balance enough to pull on your jeans. You finished sliding your feet into your shoes at the moment Jim returned, also dressed in scrubs.

"Your chariot awaits, milady," he grinned with a deep bow. With a playful roll of your eyes, you sat down and allowed Jim to position your feet on the pads of the wheelchair. He handed you a baseball cap and told you to keep your head down until you were safely in the car. Once you were settled, Jim grabbed the keys and left the room so he could drive the car up to the doors.

Leonard played the part of your physician, pushing your chair at a brisk but not overly noticeable pace. Uhura walked ahead of you, opening doors and checking around the corners, while you drew ever closer to the exit. You closed your eyes and crossed your fingers that you wouldn't draw any unnecessary attention to yourselves in your escape.

The three of you reached the sliding doors at the exact moment that Jim pulled into the pick-up lane to meet you. A security guard started to take an interest in you as you crossed the threshold, which increased your anxiety level. But by the time he had caught up, you, Leonard, and Uhura were already in the car and leaving the hospital's grounds.

What you didn't know was that this particular guard was stationed at the hospital to keep an eye on you. He wasn't looking forward to the call he had to make, but he had a duty to his employer to keep him informed. "Yeah, Bennett? Better tell Cooper that she's escaped....yeah, I'm sure! Just saw her climb into a car with McCoy and her other two friends." The man grimaced as the call disconnected.

***

The next few weeks were spent getting used to a new routine of post-hospital care. During the first couple of weeks, Leonard insisted that you rest and recover from your injuries. You initially protested, leading to a few verbal clashes with Leonard. Eventually, his persistence paid off, because you decided to let yourself be taken care of. You spent your days engaging in more relaxing activities, such as reading, plus there was a large library of movies to choose from.

In the quiet afternoons, Mimzy stretched out in the puddles of sunlight on the floor, while your thoughts frequently drifted to Leonard. What was he doing, how busy was the clinic that day, has he eaten lunch or drank any water, you wondered. Does he miss me? You shook your head at that last question as ridiculous and mentally scolded yourself. Leonard McCoy did not have romantic feelings for you, even though you had them for him.

Since you'd met him, Leonard has held a special place in your heart. He may be gruff, sarcastic, and a bit set in his ways, but you saw beneath the surface. In your eyes, he had a kind, warm heart, a sharp wit, and was caring and sweet, especially with kids. And there was no question of how handsome and charismatic he was, which anyone could see. You'd fallen in love with all of it, all of him.

A similar mental conversation was occurring in Leonard's mind about you. What is she doing, is she in any pain, should I check and see if she needs anything, he pondered. Does she miss me? He scoffed at that last notion and returned his attention to the patient currently in his care. You had better things to do with your day than bother thinking about him. There was no way you had feelings of any kind other than friendship for him.

The minute you stepped out of your car on the day he met you, he was intrigued. To him, you were smart, funny, and kind, frequently putting the needs of others ahead of your own. When your apartment building burned down, he didn't hesitate to offer you a place to stay. Still, you were concerned that you were somehow inconveniencing him. Now, he couldn't imagine his house or his life any other way than with you in it. Nor did he want to.

Perhaps Jim was right, and he should tell you how he feels. After all, you did kiss him before he took off on that damned fishing trip, that had to mean something, right? He recalled that Jocelyn wasn't as free with her affections towards him as you seemed to be. It was one of the contributing factors in why the marriage ended, because he stopped feeling that connection to her.

On the other hand, you didn't hesitate when it came to physical expression. You took his hand, or to put yours on his shoulder or arm as you walked by him without a second thought. The warmth of your touch lingered long after you'd left his side, leaving him wishing for your return. And more than once he'd caught you staring at him, only for you to quickly look away, a sheepish smile on your face. Maybe...., he thought to himself, a smile spreading across his face as he resolved to explore this idea further and see where it would lead.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags: @marvelouslytrekking @hailbop1701 @anna-phora @spacedancer1701 @lassie-bird @phoenixisred @wayward-dreamer @erindiggory @strangesgirls @genevablog26 @dumpsterhippie @lokis-deares @medicatemedrmccoy @rooweighton @mamamercurymist @d-doki-doki @malmeansbad @ghosttrekkie @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @bellestalesoffiction @silversword7000 @maximumtacoshark @xspacedemonx @ilachoasgrem @imherefordeanandbones @jax-the-oregonian @madame-slayer

#leonard bones mccoy x reader #au leonard mccoy x reader #leonard mccoy x reader

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covid-safer-hotties · 1 month ago

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Also preserved in our archive

By Jess Thomson

"Very high" levels of SARS-CoV-2—the virus that causes COVID-19—have been detected in wastewater samples in the U.S.

Between October 27 and November 2, wastewater sampling from New Mexico revealed "very high" levels of the virus, with "high" levels being detected in Oregon, Arkansas, and Maine, according to the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC).

Meanwhile, "moderate" levels were detected in Arizona, Colorado, Idaho, Kentucky, Massachusetts, Michigan, Minnesota, Montana, Nebraska, Ohio, South Dakota, Virginia, and Wyoming.

Additionally, 19 states have "low" levels, and 13 states and D.C. have "minimal" levels, according to the CDC.

(follow link to see interactive map)

However, South Dakota, New Hampshire, Mississippi, Pennsylvania, and Virginia all have limited coverage, meaning that "data for the most recent week are based on a small part (less than 5 percent) of the population and may not represent viral activity levels for the entire state," the CDC explains.

This data represents a change from last week, where "very high" levels of viral activity were detected in Montana, and "high" levels in Arkansas, Maine, Minnesota, Nebraska and Wyoming.

The level of viruses in wastewater, especially when tracking viruses like SARS-CoV-2, is used to gauge the presence and spread of infections in a community. By analyzing the genetic material (like viral RNA) present in sewage, scientists can estimate the number of infected individuals in a given area, including those who may not have been tested or are asymptomatic.

"Wastewater (sewage) can be tested to detect traces of infectious diseases circulating in a community, even if people don't have symptoms," the CDC states. "You can use these data as an early warning that levels of infections may be increasing or decreasing in your community."

This method is especially helpful for early detection of outbreaks, as changes in wastewater virus levels can indicate a rise in cases before symptoms appear in the population or testing data reflects the increase.

Map shows where coronavirus has been detected in the wastewater across the U.S. Dark red states (New Mexico) have "very high" levels, while red states are "high", dark orange are "moderate", light orange are "low" and yellow are "minimal".

National COVID wastewater levels appear to be the lowest they have been since June, although levels in the Midwest seem to be on the rise in recent weeks.

A recent surge in COVID-19 cases has been mainly driven by a new set of subvariants, known as FLiRT, named for the locations of mutations on the virus's spike proteins—the structures that allow it to enter human cells.

These spike proteins also serve as targets for the immune system and vaccines, so changes in their makeup may enable the virus to evade the body's defenses more effectively. However, current vaccines are still expected to offer some protection against severe illness and long COVID-19.

As of November 2, the leading subvariant, KP.3.1.1 made up over 45 percent of COVID-19 cases in the U.S. over the prior two weeks, while the new XEC variant accounted for 9 percent, according to the CDC. KP.3 made up 21 percent, JN.1 made up 10 percent, and "other" made up 15 percent.

"There is no evidence, and no particular reason to believe, that XEC causes different symptoms than all the other SARS-CoV-2 currently in circulation," Professor Francois Balloux, a computational systems biologist at University College London in England, previously told Newsweek. "XEC is not expected to cause more (or less) severe symptoms than other lineages currently in circulation."

While COVID levels across the U.S. have been dropping since the summer, the "high" and "very high" levels in some states may indicate that winter infections may be about to leap.

Symptoms of COVID, according to the CDC, include:

Fever or chills Cough Shortness of breath or difficulty breathing Sore throat Congestion or runny nose New loss of taste or smell Fatigue Muscle or body aches Headache Nausea or vomiting Diarrhea

#mask up #covid #pandemic #public health #wear a mask #covid 19 #wear a respirator #still coviding #coronavirus #sars cov 2

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curio-queries · 2 months ago

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I think AYS definitely found its flow post-US trips. Compared to the later trips, you can tell their time in the US really was more spur of the moment, less thought out. I think that's probably why the editing and filming were better in the other places and they had product placement. I wonder if they originally had something else in mind for the content, such as making it just a bangtan bomb kind of like some of the solo adventures we got during chapter 2 (like jungkook's camping vlog), but then they decided to do more trips or pitched it to Disney or something so they put more money and effort into it.

About the behind the scenes content, I do think whatever was kept out of the main episodes was primarily for pacing reasons (despite the fact that I don't think the pacing was super great until Sapporo) and/or some content that was kept for the purpose of making money off the behind the scenes package. Weirdly I don't think bts cares at all about 4th wall breaks. I saw another blog complain about this a while ago, about being able to see staff in the background and ruining the vibe of AYS or messing up the illusion from a production standpoint, but I think bts themselves never try to put up that 4th wall. Obviously the content is supposed to stay focused on them, but the boys have never had a problem talking to their staff on the other side of the camera even during things like run episodes and even in AYS, the last night Sapporo, jikook are sitting around the table drinking and talking with their staff. Beyond what takes focus off the members or respecting that staff aren't public figures, I don't think the members ever care to create that illusion that they aren't filming something or surrounded by staff. I remember reading parts of bts' book and jungkook talks about jikook's trip to japan in 2017 and mentions how the company was worried about their safety if they went and when they arrived in japan, staff was already waiting for them. Even in a private trip that was meant just for the two of them, because of who they are staff were involved and they don't try to hide that.

Also side tangent, but their book was more interesting than I was expecting based on how I'd seen people talk about. A lot of it is summarization of events with bts' thoughts thrown in throughout, but there were some interesting tidbits I didn't know. Like jimin listening to Army sing-along of Young Forever and that's basically what made him come out of a dark place regarding the band's future and contract renewal tensions. Reminded me of Wembley when he cried and said that song had helped him a lot. Also the book and reading things as a timeline really emphasized how much jikook helped each other through that dark period from 2017-2019: the japan trip when they needed to get away from everything, then jimin showing up at a bar for jungkook and them both crying together (the crying together seems to be a theme for them LOL).

Anyway, back to AYS. For the title cards, we can see in Sapporo that they already edited most of the US trip, so the title cards were probably an idea they thought would be good when editing that, but then they didn't really fit as much in the editing of the other trips. Like the Sapporo vibes are just different from jimin's silly little title card recordings.

I really hope we get more AYS when they come out of MS. I expect group activities will be back in full swing, but since they seem to really enjoy traveling together, I think it'd be nice if we got to have future seasons. Its obviously still work, but I do think its on the more enjoyable end of work for them. I want to see them in Montana, US on a ranch riding horses, or in Venice, IT doing a romantic gondola ride, in the Australian outback where jungkook can finally fight a kangaroo.

Hi anon,

You definitely hit on many of the points we'd been discussing here through these posts so it's nice to see I'm not the only one with some of these thoughts.

After seeing the I Am Still documentary though, it's do feel more confident saying that this team's production engine likely gives very little control to their distribution partners. Again, I still need to do an album watchthrough of most of the Disney documentaries but for now, I'd wager that Hybe fully completes their product and then only sells it for distribution. Maybe there's some back-and-forth if there could possibly be any content censorship for brand cohesion but BTS content as a whole is already very low-risk on that front. I'd even go so far to say that the product placement sponsors had more of an impact on the actual end result of the content than Disney did. But that's purely supposition on my part.

Regarding the 4th wall breaks, I don't think i worded my viewpoint very well previously and I don't think i have much better to say here but I'll try. While I agree that BTS's content isn't trying to shy away from the fact that they have staff around them, I do think there are very specific methodologies behind how they've approached it in the past and likely will continue to.

Take Run BTS for example, at the beginning, they attempted to rely for more in on-screen graphics and having the members themselves deliver the necessary exposition. But...I've said this before and I'll say it again, their production actually really sucks at delivering content that needs to be informative. In my opinion, they realized they weren't doing a great job of this and it was a lot more effort to try to mask, when the episodes that they left in a disembodied staff member explaining didn't have any noticeable drop so they decided to just go with including it.

I know i haven't really talked much here about the Run Jin episodes (as I'm likely going to do review posts as well once I'm done with Run BTS) but one of the main things I've been keeping my eye on is how they're compensating for there only being one member. It's seemingly to fall into relying on guest cast and the staff to give Jin the necessary foil, sometimes successfully and other times less-so.

Anyway, back to AYS, it seems to me like they were absolutely still trying to find the line of staff inclusion. Honestly, I wonder if there was a version of the edit where them watching the first cut of episode 1 would have been only included in the bonus content. Without it though, that episode woukd have been much shorter so I think they kept it in the main release purely for time. It fits so well with the overall tone though and I'm so glad they included it.

Again, wondering about the future. I'm sure they will try to revive this show again after military service and I genuinely hope they try to stick to the format of several mini-trips compiled into one 'season'. It will take a skillful team to be sure there's cohesion though. These episodes worked because there is the overarching tjmeline of their solo projects as they prepare for their service that ties the little trips together. I still think my idea of scheduling trips while they're on tour could work but again only if the tour schedule is a little more relaxed than it has been in the past.

It's all theoretical at this point! I would love to see our guys traveling around to some of the less-dazzling destinations as well. I am from a very rural area in the western US and could not even comprehend what it woukd be like for BTS to even be aware of some of those places, let alone actually visit. That was some of the charm of the USA section. They were out in the middle of nowhere seeing just a little bit of Americana. (But I also completely agree with you and want to see a JK / Kangaroo moment as well!)

I'm remembering now another point that I'd wanted to delve into a little more with AYS, which was how they balanced luxury vs the simple life for this show. It's definitely something I noticed shifting over the episodes and I think that had more to do with those sponsorships as well as wanting to give JM and JK some comfortable experiences prior to their enlistment.

Sorry, i went on quite the tangent anon. If I didn't respond to any of the points that you'd like to further discuss, please point them out in another note. I've already rambled far too much for this one!

#AYS #are you sure?!#park jimin #jeon jungkook #jikook

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suzdin · 1 year ago

Text

Jackson: Redemption (Part Two)

(Joel Miller x female reader)

Summary: The conclusion to part one here.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, mean Joel, dom Joel, smut, edging, spitting, rough sex, mentions of weapons, unprotected sex, mentions of loss

——

Joel is back to ignoring you. And truth be told, it hurts.

Hurts a lot.

You had a pleasant enough dinner that night, after he’d fucked you, sitting with not only the two of them, but Tommy and Maria as well. It was nice to not sit alone. It was so nice, you looked forward to it again at breakfast the next day.

Only, it didn’t happen.

You sat with Ellie, Tommy and Maria, sure. But Joel wasn’t there. And he hadn’t been to a meal in the mess hall for days.

At least he didn’t seem to hate you any more. He no longer glowered at you when you saw him, didn’t make a point to make you feel uncomfortable in his wake. Didn’t fret over you talking to Ellie anymore, either. In fact, you were almost sure he appeared sad in the off chance you saw him looking at you.

But you wish he would go back to hating your guts because that was at least better than…whatever the fuck this was.

So you go on with your life. Taking care of the horses, feeding them daily, cleaning their stalls, working them so they don’t grow restless when they aren’t being ridden. Helping out in the kitchen a couple days a week.

Patricia, a rugged older widow from Montana whom you admire, shows you how to butcher a deer the day one of the scouting parties drags a massive, 8-point buck back to Jackson. It’s as gross as it is fascinating to you, Patricia’s worn hands expertly breaking down the still-warm animal as she discusses all the parts and techniques. You mentally log everything for later, should you ever need it.

You have venison and cornbread for dinner that night and it’s fantastic. You gab on about town life with everyone, since they’ve finally started to accept you. To trust you. It feels nice, but…

It’s empty without Joel. He has a way of filling a room with his presence alone.

You’re pretty sure Tommy and Maria know. Pretty sure they could tell that night when you’d come to dinner, the way you were both so mussed and flustered, Joel wiping the blood from his face instead of cleaning himself up properly like he normally would have. The way you’d smelled of each other.

Maria has tried to talk to you about it a few times. “Are you okay?” she’d asked. “Is something going on between the two of you?”

“Nothing is going on,” you responded, and it’s the truth. Because nothing is going on. He hasn’t wanted to be near you in days.

It doesn’t surprise you when Ellie also clues in that something is off. She’s too smart not to. She’s the only person who can really read Joel, aside from maybe Tommy. She’s taken up Joel’s place for glaring knives into you, but it’s less intimidating when she does it, because she isn’t a big and burly emotionless wall of muscle.

“You remember what you told me?” she’d asked you. “‘Bout that girl I like? You said, ‘Don’t be afraid to say hi. Just go talk to her.’ But you’re over here pussin’ out about talking to my dad when I know you want to! What the fuck?”

“It’s more complicated than that, kiddo,” you’d told her. But was it?

You start having nightmares about your grandparents again. They had stopped for a while. A stress response to everything you’ve been going through with Joel, no doubt. Not that you’re going through anything…the man has made it obvious he doesn’t want you.

So you whittle down the days, doing the best you can to keep your head up, to keep moving.

Because it’s all you can do.

——

Late night. Most everyone in town is settled in their homes or sleeping, except for you and a few other stragglers, as well as night patrol. You know Joel has been on night duty lately—probably took it up to skirt you as much as possible.

You’re sat at the bar and you’ve been nursing a glass of twenty year old wine for the last half hour, rolling the stem of the glass between your forefinger and thumb. You’ve already finished off half the bottle by yourself so it isn’t as though you aren’t already wasted.

It’s red wine which isn’t really your thing, but it’s the only option available other than whiskey, which most definitely isn’t your thing.

It’s quiet in here and you welcome the silence. There’s a low whine of wind outside and the hum of the ice machine, but everything else is serene. You close your eyes. Your head swims from the alcohol.

That’s when a familiar and haunting sound breaks the otherwise stillness of the bar: boots scraping against earth and then wood, the heaviness of the footfalls an unequivocal tell of who they belong to.

Your blood stills. You don’t turn around, hoping that if you make no sound or movement, he’ll be on his way. Like a T-Rex.

You listen as the boots slow and then stop in the doorway behind you, and you purse your lips into a hard line.

Here we fucking go.

“Hey.” Baritone, dripping with that sweet caramel southern charm.

You turn and press the small of your back against the bar, elbows propped up on the wood. You see Joel standing in the dark, dressed in jeans and a light blue shirt that barely fits his wide shoulders with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, dark hair disheveled.

He looks fucking good, but you’re still livid with him for ignoring you. You need to steady your resolve—gain the upper hand.

“Hey,” you say in a monotone drawl in response, downing the remainder of your glass of wine in one swallow.

“Thought I’d find you here,” Joel says, taking a few tentative steps toward you.

He stops under the lights, casting him in enough shadow to deepen the lines of his face. His brows are drawn upwards into an empathetic countenance, his eyes large and glossy, lending him a wounded puppy appearance.

It’s almost enough to break you. Almost.

“Why? You think I’m an alcoholic?” you laugh, but there’s no humor in it.

He hesitates. “‘Course not. Just see you here a lot, s’all.” His voice is cool and even. Almost soft.

He gives you a once over that makes you swallow. You’re dressed not dissimilarly to Joel, or to anyone else in town for that matter, since you all share the same work loads. You’re wearing dark blue jeans that hug your curves, a light green scoop neck tee that shows the slightest hint of cleavage, and weathered dark brown cowboy boots.

“I just wanted to say—“ he starts, but you whip a hand up to cut him off. Surprisingly, it works, when he stops and looks at you.

“Don’t,” you clip.

“Look,” he continues after a moment. “I’m—“

“Joel, there’s nothing that needs to be said. Because this…” You waggle a finger between the two of you. “This is nothing.” It sounds a lot meaner than you intend it to, but you’re still hurt and you never handled your alcohol well. Especially when you’ve downed half a bottle of it.

He recoils almost like you’ve injured him. “You think this is nothing?” he asks in an accusatory tone, placing his hands on his hips.

“Isn’t it? I mean, you’ve made that abundantly clear, yeah?” you question. You can feel your cheeks heat, but you feel surprisingly brazen, even under the hungering stare he’s currently pinning you with.

He says nothing, but takes another couple of steps forward. You’re so close to breaking—so close—as you imagine him bending you over and ripping your pants down, taking you here right up against the bar. The alcohol coupled with the sight of the surly man in front of you is enough to make your cunt clench tight at the thought.

But you’re angry and hurt and you want him to hurt too. So you hold up your hand again. You know if he actually reaches you, you’d never be able to control yourself; part of you hopes he won’t listen.

But he does. He stops, his arms swinging pendulously at his sides as he comes to an abrupt halt. His countenance twisting into a sneer.

“Fine,” he tuts in that dark, gravelly drawl. “‘F that’s what ya want, then so be it.” You see something in the lines of his face that resembles pain, and then he turns.

He balls his hands into fists and leaves you there, stalking out of the room like some twisted, angry thing, in so few strides that for a few moments you can’t actually believe that he’s there one instant and gone the next.

“Joel! Wait!” you call out, but it’s too late. He’s already gone—or maybe he’s lost interest.

And then you feel empty. Sad. Full of regret for lashing out, thinking maybe you’ve just ruined the only chance you had with Joel Miller. That maybe you should just leave Jackson and go find an abandoned cabin in the mountains and eke out some kind of existence on your own there, away from him.

You think that maybe that’s the right thing to do since being in such close proximity to Joel but not able to have him is madness and you’ve only made it worse.

You re-cork the wine bottle and leave it behind the bar for someone else to finish off, and you make a vow to never drink again.

——

A few more days go by, and Joel has reverted to his usual angry, sullen self. The Joel that hates you and by the way he looks at you, you guess still wants to kill you.

Yeah, that Joel.

You’re okay with it because at least it brings a sense of normalcy to your life, but the more it drags out, the more you begin to seriously consider leaving Jackson for good.

Would they let you? You hadn’t left the walls since you’d been filtered in, and hadn’t really shown any interest in doing so…until now.

It’s currently early morning. The sun isn’t even above the mountains yet, the air still sharp and chilly. You’re dressed unceremoniously in a black hoodie, light colored blue jeans and the same cowboy boots you always wear, because you’re on your way to start taking care of the horses with the help of Chen today.

You get to the stables and greet Chen, who has already begun shoveling hay into a wheel barrow to distribute around to the herd. Chen is about your age and decidedly handsome, and you think he might like you, but you aren’t too sure.

You’ve flirted casually with him and even thought about asking him out, to get your mind on someone other than Joel, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to actually do it.

“Hey,” he greets back. “Rats got into the grain again—we need to do something about that,” he says.

“Yeah,” you say. “I’ll talk to Maria or Tommy about it after we’re done today.”

As if summoned by the mention of her name alone, you hear a familiar voice chime from behind you. You jump.

“I’ll have Tommy put down poison again,” Maria says.

You turn to face Maria, who’s smiling the same bright smile she uses when she expects something of you, causing your skin to creep with worry. She says hello to Chen and then turns back to you.

“You’re needed elsewhere,” she says to you. “Patricia will help Chen out today.”

Your eyebrows lift, but you don’t question it. They normally tell you ahead of time when you aren’t doing stables, so it catches you a bit off guard, but you’re okay with that. Anything that gives you a break from routine.

“Pick out two horses and get them saddled up,” she says. “You’re going on patrol today.”

This time you do question things because you’ve never been sent out on patrol—much less beyond the walls—before. That usually wasn’t your thing.

“Patrol? With who?”

She only smiles. You know exactly who.

“Maria! No!” you protest.

“Chen, can you excuse us for a few minutes? Girl talk,” Maria says. He nods and exits the stables.

Once he’s out of earshot, she turns back to you. “You have to. Tommy’s under the weather today. Flu, I think.”

“Maria, there has to be someone else. Surely there’s someone else?” you question in earnest.

“Maybe. But Tommy and I think you two should spend the day together. You know. To chat.” She smiles innocently. You can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Joel hates my guts. You know that, right?”

“No, actually, because he doesn’t. I don’t know Joel the way Tommy or Ellie does, but I’ve come to know him well enough to see that when he’s angry and broody, it’s because he’s trying not to feel anything at all. And he’s been…weird, since the two of you came to dinner together the other night,” she says. “You’ve been weird, too.”

You laugh. “I’ve been weird?” you ask.

“Yeah. I mean, you’ve been distant. Distracted. Something on your mind?” she accuses.

No. Nope. Only a fifty six year old man who fucked you senseless and you’re pretty sure you already have feelings for. That’s all.

“Not really,” you answer.

“Right,” she replies, completely unconvinced. “Well, you’re still going on patrol today. Final decision.”

The barn suddenly grows a little darker and you look up to see Joel, the whole expansive frame of him blotting out what little bit of light has managed to spill in. He leans one arm on the doorframe and his eyes sweep over you, slowly.

You can’t help the way your heart skips when you see him.

——

Joel seems as nonplussed about the arrangement as you are.

It surprises you when he doesn’t put up much of a fight about it; however, he often tends to cow when it comes to Tommy’s orders, and by extension, Maria’s.

You’ve been riding in complete and utter silence for about an hour. The sun is peaking over the mountains now, warming the morning and you’ve already shucked off your hoodie, draping it across the neck of your horse. Joel’s eyes stare straight ahead, unmoving, as you remove the bothersome article of clothing.

You steal glimpses of him when you think he isn’t paying attention. He’s also discarded his black and gray flannel overshirt, leaving his torso adorned in only a snug fitting, dark gray tee.

Said shirt beautifully accentuates the curve of muscles beneath the threadbare fabric, and his arms…you don’t think you’ve seen them before, but his biceps are enormous and unbelievably toned for a man of his age. You squirm when you imagine them wrapping around you; pinning you.

He’s wearing black jeans that somehow grip the tree trunks he has for thighs like they’re hanging on for dear life, and on his feet are the same dark brown Elk Tracker boots he always has on. His hair is unbrushed as usual.

He had picked Amarillo, a handsome buckskin quarter horse; the same one he always takes on runs. You had to admit the two of them shared a bond, the young gelding often listening to Joel better than anyone else.

It annoyed you that a horse held more of a place in Joel’s heart than you did.

For yourself, you had taken out Dakota, a lovely and gentle appaloosa mare whom you’d ridden around town a few times. She snorts as she takes in the surroundings, her ears flicking this way and that as she listens to the songs of the early morning birds.

You grow sick of the silence after a while, so of course you’re the one to break it first. You’ve never been one to be super chatty, but Joel takes not talking like it’s some kind of religious vow.

He could probably go the rest of his life without speaking. You, on the other hand, need to be assured of things on occasion, so you speak up.

“So, what do we do on these patrols?” you ask him. He shoots you a look like you’re stupid, and you probably are, his eyebrows pinching together and his lips parting slightly.

“We patrol,” he answers flatly.

“That’s it? We just ride around all day?” you ask. He shoots you another look and sighs.

“We look for anythin’ that might be out of the ordinary. Signs’a life or tracks. Shoot anyone who seems like a threat,” he expounds.

“How often does that happen?” you ask.

“How often does what happen?”

“Shooting people.”

“Not often. Usually don’t see anyone ‘t’all.”

You recall the night he had returned to town covered in blood. Someone else’s blood. Your fingers curl into the reins, trying to shake the image—and associated feelings—from your mind. Not the time or the place.

You nod and ‘mmm’ softly in confirmation. His eyes return to the trail and you glance at the rifle slung across his torso.

“I don’t have a gun,” you say, as if it’s some big proclamation.

He looks at you again.

“Ain’t givin’ you a gun,” he says. “Said yourself you’re a shit shot.”

“Then how am I supposed to shoot people?” you ask. You’re just trying to get under his skin at this point.

“I’ll shoot ‘em,” he replies.

You hold a hand up in mock defeat. “Ooookay,” you say.

He glares at you. “You’re a pain in the ass,” he chides. “Should cut you loose.”

You know he’s being facetious—at least you think he is—but it doesn’t prevent the words from stinging deep in your gut when you hear them coming from Joel’s mouth. The same way your words most likely did to him a few nights before.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” you remark. He tilts an eyebrow.

“Thinkin’ about what?” he asks, incredulous.

“Leaving,” you answer, intentionally keeping your response vague. He scoffs.

“You wouldn’t last the first winter on your own,” he replies. “Or even the first month. Can’t shoot, can’t hunt.”

You hate to admit it, but he’s right. You were young when outbreak happened, barely a teenager, and your grandparents coddled you; shielded you from the darkness the world had become.

Your grandfather did all of the hunting and gathering while your grandmother tended the garden, so you learned very little about survival during those formative years in the cabin. You had probably learned more in Jackson than you ever had with them.

Although they weren’t good men, you had been lucky at the time to be taken under the wing of the group who’d found you hapless and wandering the roads in Colorado, half-starved and dehydrated. You didn’t mind that they used your body. You welcomed it, in fact, because it meant you earned their protection, though you always knew they weren’t good people by any stretch of the imagination.

In spite of yourself, you decide to postulate with Joel anyway. “I would be just fine on my own,” you assert.

He smiles—like, actually smiles—to that. The first time you’ve ever seen anything from him that was more than just a sarcastic smirk. “Sure,” he drawls.

You’re trying to think of a good comeback when he pulls back on Amarillo’s reins. “Whoa, boy.” His dark brown eyes fix on a patch of soft, pock-marked mud.

You also stop Dakota, who shakes her head and lowers her muzzle to the earth, munching on the fresh spring grass.

“What?” you ask, oblivious. Joel points to what he’s seeing before dismounting to get a better look.

You dismount as well when you see it. There are three sets of similar tracks, the first being heavy and deep; the other two are barely visible, hardly heavy enough to make an indent in the mud at all. Round and fat, with with four corresponding digits on each track.

“Puma?” you ask. Joel nods.

“Looks that way,” he answers, and there isn’t a hint of snarkiness to his tone this time. “Mama and two babies, by the looks of it.”

“Awww,” you can’t help but say. He looks at you and raises his eyebrows, causing his forehead to crinkle in an endearingly adorable manner.

“Ain’t cute,” he grunts. “This is a problem. This is the closest set of puma tracks we’ve found t’town.” He runs a finger along the inner wall of one of the mother cat’s prints. “Fresh tracks, too. Probably from last night.” He scans the area for any signs you’re being watched, particularly the trees.

“She’s just trying to live, like the rest of us,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“She’s a potential threat. Babies too, when they’re grown. To the horses, the livestock—us,” Joel retorts. “You think those walls can stop a puma?” he asks.

You shrug.

“Well, they can’t. She gets any closer, she’ll need t’be dealt with,” he says.

“That’s kinda fucked,” you say. He smirks—dry and mirthless—and shakes his head.

“I change my mind. You wouldn’t last a week on your own with that kinda mindset,” he says. “Don’t know how you survived this long already.”

Your chest swells with anger, but you have to admit that, once again, he’s right. You had only been on the road three days when those men found you, and you’d been lucky to find a fresh stream to drink from until then, which you’d stumbled upon by happenstance rather than skill.

Though you don’t know it yet, Joel admires your softness—your naïveté—for what it is. It had been a while since he’d known someone like you and it made him miss the old days. He wants to protect you. To teach you. He won’t admit it, but he doesn’t want you to leave, either. He thinks, if you left, he’d probably have to leave with you, if nothing else but to ensure your survival.

He stares down at you with a mixture of longing and annoyance in his eyes. All you happen to notice is the latter.

“Exactly. I have survived all these years. There’s a reason for that,” you say.

Yeah. Your grandparents. Those men. Tommy and Maria.

“‘F you say so,” he responds, rolling his eyes. That lights a fire in your belly and your skin heats at how flippant he’s being.

“Fuck off,” you snarl.

He laughs, pleased with himself that he’s managed to get under your skin finally, and the satisfaction of it goes straight to his cock. He wants to push your buttons a little more to see just how much he can get you worked up.

What he doesn’t know is that you also want to get under his skin even more than you already have. You aren’t sure how, since he’s seemed to trap you with his words, but you’ll figure something out.

He turns to clamber back up his horse and you see your opportunity. It’s childish. It’s stupid. It will most definitely piss him off, which is what you want. But you need to regain control, and swiftly.

He lifts his arms to grab the saddle horn in order to propel himself upwards, and in doing so, exposes about an inch of skin between the hem of his shirt and the waistband of his jeans. You need to act fast, before he’s actually on the horse, lest he hurt himself—or you—in the process.

You slip your fingers under his shirt and skate your finger tips up his spine. His skin is surprisingly soft to the touch, and you want to hold them there in reverence of the warm, silken flesh, but he obviously doesn’t give you the opportunity.

He reacts like a spooked animal—which is not too far off once you stop to think about it—startling the horses in the process. He grabs your arm and twists you against him, pulling you close, contorting his lips into a gnarled sneer.

“Just what the hell you think you’re doin’?” he snarls in your face.

You should be satisfied with your victory since this is exactly how you wanted him to react, but you still feel a ripple of fear go through your chest, your breath hitching in your rib cage. His brow furrows into a dark line, his lips stretched thin in a frown.

“Well?” he asks, and his grasp on your arm loosens, but he pulls you closer with his other hand at the small of your back. “Manage t’finally shut you up?”

You shouldn’t be so turned on by this, but your core is rife with heat and your underwear already on the verge of soaking. What you don’t know is that Joel has been half hard in his jeans most of the morning, staring at the back of your head whenever you happen to glance away, thinking about that night.

That one night.

But he’s also been thinking about the night when he found you in the bar, and subsequently the pain you’d caused him by pushing him away. He was there to apologize, and you wouldn’t even give him half a chance.

You maintain eye contact as long as you can, but you’re forced to look away when his dark eyes overwhelm every sense in your body.

He uses his free hand to drag your face back to his. “Asked you a question, pretty girl,” he says, and that’s when you feel the hard line of his cock digging into your thigh. You swallow.

“Just um—just wanted to piss you off,” you answer meekly. “Couldn’t let you win.”

He smirks, keeping your gaze forced in his grip to look at him. “Well, it worked. Now what?” he asks you.

You attempt a shrug, but you’re barely able to hump your shoulders when his mouth is on you, ravenous, starting at the delicate dip of your collarbone and working his way up to your lips, bit by bit, until your mouths collide, teeth and tongues lashing.

You chirp with satisfaction—relief—that he’s finally touching you, kissing you, again, his hand that was at the small of your back moving up to tangle in your hair. He rumbles in his throat, baritone and needy.

He kisses you deeply, deft tongue working the inside of your mouth, latticing his tongue over yours as you suckle back with equal fervor.

Using the hand currently fisted in your hair, he drags your face away from his, your lips parting in a satisfactory smack, to stare into your eyes, while the other hand roves your body.

“This what you want?” he asks you, stopping at the swell of your breast to massage it against his palm, feeling the hard peak of your nipple. He digs his fingers firmly into the pillow soft flesh.

You can’t nod quickly enough, your desperation with which your body moves against his, with his, more than evident.

He sweeps his hand down your body, slow, slow—agonizingly slow—eventually settling between the soft apex of your thighs, hooking his middle finger against the seam of your pants.

“How ‘bout now?”

You nod even more desperately than before, a minuscule whimper sounding in your throat at the contact, even through the layers of material separating you.

“Use your fucking words. Talk to me,” he snaps, your name falling from his tongue.

“Yes, Joel,” you answer, your voice wavering with need. His expression is stoic, unreadable. It’s hard to know exactly what he’s thinking.

Both hands move to your front now, undoing your pants just enough to slip a single hand inside, his middle finger pressing against the sensitive bud between your folds, causing your hips to jerk into his hand at the sudden invasion.

He drags said finger down your seam, gathering your slick on the pad of his finger, and you grind against him, chasing the feel of his rough digit against your skin. Your breathing is erratic now; labored.

“Fuck, baby, already so worked up,” he says. “Bet you’d let me fuck you right here in the woods, wouldn’t you?”

There’s no use denying it. It probably isn’t the wisest choice with a mama lion running around and god knows what else in those woods, but you’d already let him take you in an alley between some buildings in Jackson—the least romantic place you can think of—with a high probability of being caught. There really isn’t much juxtaposition here.

Besides, he can already tell by the way your body bends to his touch that you would salaciously agree to any of his demands.

“Yes, Joel,” you admit, swallowing the lump cresting your throat.

“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” he snarls. “Knew ya’d say yes. What else would you let me do t’you?”

He drags your jeans further down your hips, exposing your cunt to the cool spring air, your arousal so evident that you can actually smell yourself.

He fixes his hand in your hair again, screwing his fingers in deep until they tug at your scalp, jerking your gaze up to meet his glare.

“Asked ya a question, sweetheart.”

You blink, your mind misty as you struggle to recall what he’d just asked you, overburdened by every towering inch of him.

“Any—anything you want, Joel,” you answer when it finally hits you, and it’s the truth. Joel’s lips crook into a lopsided smirk.

“S’what I thought. Little slut, letting me take her an’way I see fit, in the middle of these woods.”

He notches two fingers at your entrance with his other hand, collecting your wetness on the pads of his middle and index fingers. Your eyes slide down to where he’s currently cupping your pussy, and he whips your head back up for the second time.

“Keep your eyes on me. Wanna see you,” he rumbles.

You obey. At least for a moment.

He glides both fingers through your opening, pushing deeper, slowly stretching you around thick, calloused digits. You keen and gyrate against his touch, eyelids fluttering shut.

“What did I just fuckin’ say?” he barks, feeling the heat of his breath on your face. Your eyelids fly back open.

“S-Sorry, Joel,” you reply.

“Sweet girl,” he praises, smirking. “All bark and no bite, ‘specially when I’m full fuckin’ knuckles deep inside of her.”

His words make you moan and you curl your body against him, craving more, more, your cunt clenching to pull his fingers deeper.

He obliges, crooking them against the soft, spongy material deep within your walls, sending you into a shuddering buck, your arm shooting out to steady yourself on his broad chest.

“So needy, baby. Do you think about me when you touch this cunt?” he asks, not giving you a chance to respond. “Or do ya think of your little boyfriend, Chen?”

Your brows knit together, and you shake your head fervently. “Don’t think about him, Joel. On— mmf— only y-you.”

His fingers fuck into you at a gingerly pace, palm brushing your swollen clit on every pass.

“Faster, Joel, please—“ you plead, chasing his fingers with your body. The hand in your hair moves down to your hips, keeping you firmly in place.

“Stop movin’.”

His lips find your neck, teeth biting sharp against your pulse point, causing you to yelp with pleasure at the small amount of pain. He grins against your flesh and soothes the mark with his tongue, nipping roughly up your jaw, uncaring that it’ll most likely leave marks, groaning deep in his chest when he feels you tightening around his fingers with every scrape of teeth on skin.

He finally picks up the pace and you keen, breathing hard in his ear.

“Who’s this pussy belong to?”

“Y-you, J-Joel—only you,” you say.

“S’right, angel. All mine. And you’re not gonna let him have my pussy, are ya?” he growls.

“No, never—just—fuck—just you,” you say.

“Good girl,” he breathes against your skin, snaking his free arm around to encircle your back, keeping you solidly in place against him as he continues his ministrations with his fingers, repeatedly nudging your g-spot. You feel the pressure building deep in the pit of your abdomen.

Your eyes move from Joel’s visage to his bicep, admiring the way it flexes as he’s pumping deep into you with his fingers, and you realize that Joel is still completely clothed, not even palming himself over his pants despite the ever present erection bearing down on your hip.

“Eyes up here, darlin’,” he says quietly, but there’s a hint of edge to it.

You suck in a breath and obediently shift your eyes back to his, unblinking, as your fingers wrap around the prominent outline of his cock through his jeans.

The arm that’s currently holding you in place moves so fast you don’t register the movement at first; not until his hand is already ensnaring your wrist, pulling you away, his dark eyes flashing with something as if he’s annoyed he doesn’t have enough limbs to keep you where he wants you.

“No. Not yet,” he commands lowly.

You swallow back a whimper.

Finally, his pace reaches the crescendo that you were so desperately needing, a single trickle of perspiration rolling down Joel’s forehead, the combined effort of pumping into you with his fingers and holding you in place making him break into a sweat. His lips part and his nose crinkles, dark eyes drilling holes through your skull as his gaze remains fixed on your face.

You’re so close.

The sound is obscene, slicked wet skin slapping against slicked wet skin, both of you nearly out of breath.

You keen, biting your lip, wrapping a hand around Joel’s sweat covered neck to steady yourself. He lets you.

“You ‘bout to come for me, sweet girl?” he asks. You whimper and seek out his mouth with your lips, but he denies you access.

You pout.

“Come on my fingers, darlin’,” he says, a dastardly grin widening his features.

He can feel you clamping around him, that familiar feeling of pleasure building in your core, the dam on the verge of breaking at any moment.

You’re about to come, your chest heaving in tandem with Joel’s, a loud, throaty moan escaping your lips.

You’re about to come and then Joel stops.

“Jo-Joel? What?” you ask, breathlessly, searching his face for answers. Your eyes dart around, thinking something is wrong. Your core throbs, aching for release. You try to move against him, but he stops you.

“W-why?”

He pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips and actually licking them clean right in front of your face.

“Pull your pants up and get back on the horse, sweetheart,” he commands softly.

“But—“

“Do it,” he says, leaving no room for protest.

You pull your pants up and fasten them as you watch Joel. He has a triumphant look on his face, and that’s when it hits you.

Joel is denying you an orgasm because he is punishing you.

Punishing you for what? For taunting and poking the bear? For touching him? For pushing him away a few nights ago?

Maybe all of the above?

Angry tears threaten to breach the levy, your hands twisting into fists, nails digging so hard into the soft flesh of your palm you break skin.

Fury licks like hot embers at the backs of your eyes. You see red.

“Joel, what the fuck,” you snarl.

“Get back on the horse, or I’m leavin’ you here,” he threatens. “Ain’t gonna ask again.”

Your cheeks heat. You want to punch him. He stares you down, daring you to defy him, jaw clicking to one side as he plants his hands on his hips.

You want to. You want to defy him so badly, but you believe him when he says he’ll leave you behind.

With a deflated snarl, you turn and clamber back up your horse, refusing to look at Joel.

You finish the rest of the patrol in silence.

——

Despite being on a horse most of the day, your legs are surprisingly sore from keeping you balanced in the stirrups for hours. Not to mention your ass is numb and your back hurts like hell.

And Joel. Fucking Joel.

You can’t even look at him without wanting to strangle him.

You think you catch the occasional cocky smirk playing on his lips, but you can’t be sure; the man is so hard to read sometimes. Either way, you somehow maintain composure despite wanting to slam your fist into his jaw, and that alone deserves a medal.

You return to Jackson approximately six hours after you left. The rest of the ride was uneventful—boring even—and Chen is there to greet you at the gate.

“Welcome back,” he says, taking Dakota by the reins as you dismount. Your legs shake with the effort, causing you to groan.

“Hey,” you greet.

“You okay?” Chen asks, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. The way Joel’s eyes clock the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

Joel dismounts next to you, bumping Chen’s arm with his elbow in the process. You know it wasn’t an accident.

“Sorry,” Joel says. “Slipped.”

You glare at Joel. He pretends not to see.

Chen clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable with whatever he just witnessed, reaching for Amarillo’s reins next. “I’ll just take the horses back to the barn, then.”

“Hang on. I’ll help you,” you announce, trailing after him. You’re barely able to make it a few steps before you feel a familiar hand surround your wrist.

Chen turns just in time to see Joel rooting you firmly in place.

“S’okay,” Joel says to you, but his eyes are currently burning holes through Chen. “Think he can handle it.”

You look up at Joel, your brows knitting together. You then turn to Chen, apologetically.

“Is everything alright?” he asks you.

“Everythin’s fine. She’s needed elsewhere,” Joel responds before you can. Chen passes the much larger man an incredulous glance, before sliding his gaze back to you.

“Are you sure everything’s alright?” he asks you again, sensing the tension churning between the two of you.

You swallow, briefly toying with the idea of ripping your arm free of Joel’s grasp and telling him in no uncertain terms to fuck right off.

But you don’t, because you can’t help but feel a small amount of giddiness that Joel Miller is actually touching you in public. The way your body thrums under his spell doesn’t go unnoticed by Joel, either. You swear you see a ghost of a smirk gracing his naturally pouty lips.

You’re also more than a little curious what he could want with you.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just forgot that…Joel wanted me to help Ellie with her homework today,” you lie, hoping it sounds convincing enough to be be true. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

He nods, casting his gaze where Joel’s large hand still loosely encircles your wrist. His thumb skirts the meat of your palm.

“Yeah. Okay. See you tomorrow,” Chen says.

——

You walk in silence in the direction that you know leads to Joel and Ellie’s small cottage. Joel doesn’t move his hand from your wrist, and you get more than a few stares from the townspeople of Jackson who have probably never seen the two of you together aside from that one dinner several long nights ago. And even then, you had Ellie separating the two of you.

You imagine that from a distance it must look pretty intimate, as if you’re two lovers linked hand in hand. Your fingers brush over his, teasingly, but he doesn’t falter.

He’s a man on a mission, making a beeline straight to his house. You try not to let yourself get your hopes up, but it’s difficult not to. What does he want?

“Joel,” you say, and he looks at you with a frown. “Slow down, please.”

Surprisingly, he does.

“Why are we going to your house?” you ask. You think you know—maybe—based on prior events. But you don’t want to make assumptions.

“To talk,” he answers vaguely.

Well, that clears things right the fuck up.

“That doesn’t tell me anything, Joel,” you retort.

“Jesus,” he says, followed by your name. “Can’t wait five fucking minutes?”

You huff, but don’t press the issue further, falling into yet another palpable silence.

——

You’re standing in Joel’s living room.

You’ve never been in here before, with all the times you’ve seen the outside of the small cottage. It’s cozy. The furniture is a mix of new and old, rustic and mass produced. It’s decorated like a woman lived here once, long ago, the few feminine touches here and there making you smile. Making you remember your grandma.

Joel strides in from the kitchen, clutching a bottle of alcohol by the neck in one hand and two short, clear glasses between his fingers in the other. He perches them on the coffee table and leans into a sit on the couch, pouring the brown liquid into each glass.

“Sit down. Ain’t gonna bite,” he says.

“With you? I’m not so sure about that,” you joke, hesitantly scooting next to him on the couch. You intentionally leave about a foot of space between you.

He smirks.

He slides your glass closer to you on the table. You think by the color that it’s whiskey. Smells like it, too.

“Ellie?” you ask him. You don’t need to elaborate more than that; he knows what you’re getting at.

“Stayin’ over at Tommy and Maria’s place tonight,” he responds.

You swallow.

“Oh,” you say. Oh.

Your cheeks flush. You vowed not to drink alcohol again, but you find yourself reaching for the glass anyway. You definitely fucking need it now.

“Don’t have ice like at the bar. Sorry ‘f it’s warm,” he says.

You down the contents of the glass in one go. The heat blooms hot in your chest all the way up to your throat. You hiss at the way it burns.

Joel shakes his head at you. “Lightweight,” he criticizes, downing his glass without even making a face. He pours two more glasses; you wring your hands nervously, watching him.

The veins in his neck pulse as he leans over the coffee table; his biceps flex as his arms reach. You can already feel yourself starting to sweat.

“So you wanted to talk,” you say, attempting to stay focused.

“When you got here. To town, I mean. I didn’t like you,” he says like it’s some kind of revelation.

You purse your lips and hum lightly. “Yeah. I know. Everyone knows,” you reply. “You still don’t. Right?”

He scowls at you sidelong and rolls his eyes, bringing the whiskey to his lips and sucking down the second glass.

“Thought you were too soft. Didn’t think you’d ever integrate into the community.”

“So you brought me to your house to insult me? Real classy, Joel,” you berate, putting your hands on your knees as you stand to leave. A single hand—broad, thick, warm—wraps one of your legs.

“Sit down,” he says sternly. “Ain’t done.”

You flounder. Eventually, you sit back down, and you notice you’re considerably closer, this time.

“Didn’t think you could do it, but ya proved me wrong. Can’t deny you’re a quick learner and a hard worker,” he admits. You relax…a little.

“The reason I came to the bar the other night…” he begins, raking a hand through his stubble, “…is ‘cause I wanted to apologize for bein’ an asshole to you.” He looks at you directly this time, and you can see the barest hint of warmth in the dark pools of his brown eyes.

You peer back at him. You want to say something, but you aren’t sure what, exactly. You want to trust him, want to kiss him, fall into his arms, but you still have reservations. This isn’t a side of Joel you’ve ever seen before. This isn’t even the Joel from this morning.

“And I forgive you. For Diana. Know it wasn’t…your fault,” he continues. You hear him swallow, watching his adam’s apple make a pass along the line of his throat.

You feel your pulse quicken and you rip your gaze away, reaching for your glass on the table to swallow it in a single gulp. Somehow, it burns even more than the first.

“I’m sorry,” you manage, your voice cracking. “How did you know her?”

You don’t think it could have been a romantic connection; she seemed quite a bit older than Joel. Then again, who knows. It isn’t like Joel doesn’t have about twenty years on you.

“When I first came to Jackson, I was a nobody. Just some angry old man who happened to be related to Tommy. Ellie was having trouble adjustin’, too. People didn’t like us. But Diana took Ellie under her wing, same way Patricia has with you. Little by little, people started accepting us. I was forever grateful to her for that. For helpin’ Ellie.”

You nod slowly, taking in this new bit of information. You aren’t sure what to do with it, if you’re being honest.

Part of you wants to thank him for the booze and flee back to the safety of the barn or the mess hall. You can feel the alcohol working its way through your system already, heating you from the inside out. Your thoughts thrumming high like a fever pitch between your ears.

You want to flee. But an even larger part of you wants to stay.

You settle for placing a hand on his knee, consolingly, because you’re afraid to touch him any other way right now. He tracks the movement like you’ve just dropped a cobra into his lap. And then he’s on you.

The broad expanse of his hand wraps the back of your neck and his lips crash into yours, devouring you like a man starved. His other hand slithers around to the small of your back, tugging you into him.

You let out a moan while his tongue explores your mouth the moment your lips part. You moan a second time and he swallows it down, rumbling in a deep timbre as he tastes you.

Ellie’s stayin’ over at Tommy and Maria’s tonight.

Is that an open invitation for you to stay? You can’t even begin to imagine sharing a bed with Joel for an entire night. You can barely envision a bed at this point, after sleeping on that uncomfortable cot for so long. The idea makes your head swim. You can’t help the way your body begins trembling like a cornered mouse.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Joel. “You alright, darlin’?” he asks. “Shakin’ like a leaf.”

“I’m fine,” you lie. Truthfully, you’re still wrung tighter than a bow string after this morning, and you’re more than a little concerned that history will repeat itself.

You tell him in as many words.

“Won’t happen again if you’re a good girl this time,” he rumbles. It goes straight to your core.

Oh, fuck.

He stands, pulling you up with him in the process. “C’mon, darlin’,” he says. “Bedroom’s this way.”

——

You’re in Joel fucking Miller’s bedroom.

You’re in his room.

It’s sweltering in here. You aren’t sure if it’s because the room is already warm, or the alcohol, or both. You feel a bead of sweat roll down the plane of your back.

Joel’s already shucking off his jeans. You look at his face and that familiar scowl has returned, the distinct line of his visage darkening predatorily.

Won’t happen again if you’re a good girl this time.

His words buzz through you, making you shiver. Making you sweat harder.

“Take off your clothes, sweetheart,” he orders.

It would probably help with cooling you down. At least for a moment. You sit on the edge of the bed and pull off your boots, tossing them to the corner next to an unfolded pile of laundry. You remove your shirt and pants next, joining your boots on the floor.

“Can we open a window?” you ask, fanning yourself lazily.

Your back is still to him. Although you’ve already fucked once, and Joel has been face and fingers deep in your pussy, you’re still mostly afraid to turn around.

You haven’t seen each other fully naked yet.

“Neighbors are gonna hear us,” Joel replies lowly. You hear the window open soon after, and a cool breeze slips over your body. It’s exactly what you need.

“Thanks.”

You turn nervously to face him, heart fluttering like a caged bird in your chest. Your breath hitches when you take in the sight of the man before you—he’s stripped down to his boxer briefs, the long line of his cock straining against the thin fabric.

For his age, he’s fit. You could tell he was muscular before, but you didn’t realize the extent of it since he’s always covering himself up in flannels and jackets.

His shoulders are wide and square, easing down into the corded musculature of his chest and arms, sweeping to a barely pooched stomach marred by a healed over, ugly scar, and hips that are just slightly more narrow than his shoulders. A dark swathe of curly hair disappears into the waistband of his shorts, and you’re impervious to stop your eyes from fixating on the bulge there.

Your breath damn near stops when his gaze rakes over every inch of exposed skin. He looks at you like you’re the only person he’s ever bothered to see.

“Something on your mind, darlin’?” he asks you.

“You, Joel. J-just you.”

“C’mere,” he says with an outstretched hand.

He meets you halfway and snakes an arm around your back, the other hand moving to loosely collar your neck. He bends his face to the hollow of your collarbone, swiping at a line of sweat on your skin with the flat of his tongue. You keen, feeling the vibrations of your throat against his palm.

“Y’gonna be a good girl for me?” he queries. You nod, your heart rate quickening at your pulse points still in his grip.

“Then prove it.” He pushes you into a sit on the edge of the bed in front of him, spreading your legs with one swift motion of his foot, slotting himself between them.

His face is hard and expressionless. He says nothing, but you already know exactly what he expects of you.

Your fingers are shaking. This is ridiculous—it’s not like you’re some wide-eyed, innocent virgin. But as you reach for the waistband of his shorts and pull them down his thick legs, large cock springing free right in front of your face, you can hardly prevent yourself from vibrating with need.

“S’okay, angel. You’re okay,” he soothes, cupping your cheek with a weathered hand.

It’s not like you haven’t seen his cock before. But not like this, inches from your face, the head an angry shade of pink and leaking precum.

You steady your nerves as you fist the base of the shaft in your hand and bring him to your lips, sliding the tip into the heat of your mouth and slowly inching yourself down onto him, your jaw gradually adjusting to the girth. He grips your shoulders and releases a ragged breath.

“That’s it, baby girl. Jus’ like that,” he praises.

You relax your throat muscles as you take him deeper, breathing through your nose, hollowing your cheeks.

“Doin’ so good. Takin’ this cock so well. Not even a single tear.” He moves a hand from your shoulder to your hair, brushing it aside so he can watch you. “So fuckin’ pretty with my cock buried in your face.”

The head of his cock bumps the back of your throat and he moans, hips jerking involuntarily at the sensation, causing you to choke. He pulls out of you, letting you catch your breath.

“Doin’ so well. Know you can take it, though, can’t you?”

You hum in affirmation and take him back into your mouth when you feel you’re ready, better adjusted to his size on this go around, taking him almost all the way to the back of your throat in one go. He rumbles deep in the barrel of his chest and twists his fingers tightly in your hair.

You reach the end of his cock and hold there as long as you can, tasting the salty tang of sweat and precum on your tongue. You pull back off of him when you feel like it’s too much.

“One more time for me, baby. Prove to me what a good little slut you are,” he growls. “Be a good girl f’me.”

You slide him back into your mouth, the vein that runs the length of his cock pulsing against your tongue, the dark curls at his base tickling your nose when you reach the end and he bottoms out again. You take long, even breaths through your nose, holding him in your throat.

He doesn’t give you a chance to break away this time. He grips either side of your head and holds you in place as he begins to slowly fuck into your face.

“Mmmf— fuck yes, baby girl, doin’ so well…”

His pace quickens when you proffer no resistance, rutting at a heedy crescendo into you. Rivulets of drool dribble down your chin.

It doesn’t take long before it becomes too much, your throat tightening and jaw aching something fierce. You make a small sound of surrender as you tap his forearm, and he stops almost immediately, gazing down at you, his lips parted into an arc. He cups a hand under your chin and tilts your head back, eyes shifting from brown to black.

“Open up for me, baby. One more time.”

You oblige, his thumb and forefinger pressing gently into the hollow spaces between your upper and lower jaw. He runs the thumb of his free hand over your bottom lip, dragging it down, and spits directly into your mouth.

You blink up at him in surprise as he gently clasps your lips shut.

“Good girl. Think you’ve earned it now?” he asks you.

“Y-yes, Joel,” you answer as you swallow him down.

He moves away from you, grabbing a pillow from higher up on the bed and positioning it at your back.

He crouches in front of you, wrapping your hips with his muscled arms and dragging you to the edge of the bed, lifting and spreading your legs.

“Fuck, sweet girl. Fuckin’— fuckin’ soaked,” he growls.

If it’s possible, the attention makes you even wetter, causing you to cant your hips and clench around nothing. He chuckles.

“So needy, sweetheart. Get comfortable.”

You lean back onto the pillow and the way it smells like Joel makes you swoon. He pushes your legs together briefly to drag your panties down and off, tossing them onto the dresser pressed to the wall behind him.

“I’m keepin’ those,” he says. You don’t dare to question it.

He lifts himself slightly higher and reaches your breasts, gripping your bra in both hands, and before you can say anything, he rips it free from your body, leaving it in tatters on the bed next to you.

You want to say something. It’s not like bras are common nowadays, having to get them custom made most of the time, or be lucky enough to find one in a derelict store.

But, once again, you don’t question it. Your desperation for the release Joel is about to give you overrides the logical portions of your brain. You can worry about the scrap of fabric later.

He must read what you’re thinking on your face, because he says, “I’ll replace that for you. Panties, too.”

You nod. “Thanks.” You don’t know what else to say, but you forget about thinking soon enough anyway, because his mouth is on you in an instant, tongue parting your seam as he swipes up your slit.

You’re still so sensitive from the orgasm he denied you earlier, your back coming all the way off the bed when his tongue reaches your clit, your hand darting out to grip his hair for purchase; to ground you.

“Fuck!” you cry out.

He drags his teeth with the lightest pressure he can manage over the delicate bundle of nerves, keeping you spread open with his hand. Each pass has you mewling and writhing against him.

“You that desperate to come, sweetheart?” he asks, his lips glistening with your slick as he locks eyes with you.

“Yes, please,” you beg.

“Poor baby,” he jests, burying himself back into the hot apex of your thighs. He takes your clit between his lips, suckling it. You grind against his mouth, shamelessly chasing the high he denied you earlier as retribution.

He slips two fingers between your soaked folds, sinking them all the way to the hilt and crooking them against your g-spot, fucking into you with both fingers as his mouth showers your clit with much needed attention.

He can already feel you bearing down on his fingers, and he can’t help but grin as he fucks into you faster.

“Gonna come for me, angel?” he asks softly.

That’s all it takes; suddenly your orgasm is ripping through you, and you’re falling to pieces beneath him, the flood of your release dripping down and soaking the bed sheets below. He doesn’t pull away immediately, riding out your high as long as he can, murmuring at the taste of you on his tongue, his lips, until you indicate that the stimulation is too much. He stops, lifting his eyes to yours.

You’re a mess. An absolutely wrecked, fucked out mess.

He stands, motioning for you to move back. You do your best to climb up the bed at his behest, but truth be told, you’re absolutely weak from how hard you just came.

“Take your time,” he says, trailing a hand up your spine. It’s almost affectionate.

You eventually make it to the middle of the bed and he places the pillow behind your neck. You settle into it, situating yourself as best you can. He’s on you an instant later, caging you down into the sheets, his massive frame pressing you into the mattress as it groans under your combined weight.

The first time you fucked was not intimate, with you facing away from him in a dark alleyway as he railed into you from behind. You’re almost shy to be face to face with him like this.

He gnashes his teeth over your earlobe, bearing down on the soft flesh. “Gonna make you come again on my cock, darlin’,” he drawls in that sweet southern lilt in your ear. “Think you can take me all at once?”

You nod. “Yes, Joel. Know I can.”

“Know ya can too, sweetheart,” he agrees, shifting his weight on top of you as he lines his hips up with yours, slotting his head at your entrance. “Ready?”

You hardly have time to incline your head in a nod before he’s spearing into you, hips snapping roughly against yours as he enters you in one long, hard thrust. You cry out, arching beneath him at the intrusion.

“Fuck, baby. So goddamn tight,” he groans.

He angles your legs up, tilting them back so he can push himself further into you. He bottoms out, bumping your back wall with the head of his cock.

The stretch is almost too much. He’s almost filling you too much. But you’ve taken all of him before and know you can do it again.

He snaps into you one more time, making you keen. You’re both slippery with sweat, the breeze through the small window hardly providing any relief at all, but it doesn’t matter.

He props himself up on his elbows, hovering over you as he presses the flat of his hips into yours, rutting into you slowly. You shut your eyes and roll your head into the pillow.

“Uh uh. Eyes on me,” he growls. You don’t test him, your eyes flying open and making contact with his a second later, the ridge of his brow pinched in concentration. “Good girl,” he praises.

Every press into you, no matter how languid, is heavenly. No one has ever split you open like this before, made you ache like this before, and you don’t think anyone will compare ever again.

Not like you would ever want to be with anyone else after Joel.

“Joel…” you whimper, skating your fingers up his biceps. “Harder, fuck me harder,” you plead.

He smirks, twin dark eyes sparkling. “Not yet. Goin’ to enjoy you,” he replies, leaning back onto his calves so he can watch the way you swallow him. “Such a needy little cunt.” His words would make you drip if he wasn’t currently stuffing you full of him.

He lowers himself onto you, lips skirting your neck as he peppers the occasional kiss up the line that extends into your jaw. It’s surprisingly soft—for Joel, anyway—until he bears down with a sharp sting of teeth along the curve of your cheek, making you moan. He feels you clamp down on him in reverence to the small hurt.

“Such a dirty little slut,” he rumbles, soothing the area with his lips. “Only for me.”

You nod in agreement, shuddering beneath him, writhing with desire as he continues to pump steadily into you, nudging your clit with his lower belly on each pass. “Yours, only y-yours,” you agree.

He fists a handful of your hair and presses his lips into yours, your mouths merging in a clash of tongues and teeth, pausing on occasion to administer soft nips to your lips, making them puffy and swollen with use.

He’s marking you; claiming you. A stark contrast from only weeks ago.

You match the motions of his hips with your own, desirous to feel more of him, chasing the sensations of his cock driving into you, craving more. He’s still going so slow—agonizingly so.

He places a rough palm into your hip, preventing you from moving. “Tell me what you want,” he says.

“Need you to fuck me harder, Joel,” you beg.

“Only ‘f you ask nicely.”

“Please, please, fuck me harder,” you plead, slinking your fingers into his sweat-soaked hair. “Need to come again.”

“Okay, angel. Since ya asked so nice.” He grabs you just under your thighs, hiking your legs up above his hips, deepening the angle. You keen and buck against him at the added depth.

He begins slamming his hips into yours, your keening moans matching every wet and squelchy smack of his hips into yours, your combined utterances of pleasure filling the small space.

Each thrust threatens to knock every breath, every sense out of you; you feel the familiar pressure starting to flower deep in your core. His name becomes a chant on your tongue, which only spurs him on.

“Gonna come for me, angel?” he asks you, feeling your walls tightening around his length. You barely manage a nod, your head going swimmy at the thought.

His lips contort into a snarl, and he gives you everything he can, railing into you so hard the head board is slamming roughly into the wall. There’s a feral, hungry look in his eyes, seeing you and seeing through you all at the same time.

Suddenly, your vision turns to white stars and your head slumps back, hitting the pillow, crying out as a second orgasm crashes through you like a freight train.

“Fuck, Joel, yes—“

Joel isn’t far behind, his breaths becoming more ragged—more erratic—in the broad barrel of his chest, jaw going slack as he clamps his eyes shut in concentration. His hips stutter into you and stall out for a brief moment and then he’s pulling himself free of your soaked folds, gripping himself in his fist and pumping a few times before he’s spilling thick rivulets of cum across your stomach and mound, your name departing his lips multiple times as he milks out the last few drops.

He stays perched over you for just a moment, admiring his work; you’re both breathless and drenched in sweat, and he falls back onto the sheets next to you, his chest heaving as he sucks in as much oxygen as he can.

“That was—“ he begins, lungs shuddering in his chest. “Fuck, baby. Thank you.”

You smile, propping yourself up on your elbow next to him, leaning down to place a soft kiss to his temple.

“No, Joel. Thank you.”

He looks at you. There’s a gentleness in his eyes, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look this soft and vulnerable before. It makes your heart sing.

You fall back onto the bed next to him, still in the process of catching your breath, a cool breeze spilling through the window just in time to fan over your sweat-slick bodies. And you lie there in silent worship for who knows how long, basking in the afterglow.

——

You shower together to conserve the limited usage of water. As soon as the last of the shampoo is rinsed from your hair, he reaches behind you and cuts it off.

You didn’t expect Joel to let you shower at his place. You had been showering daily at Tommy and Maria’s for so long—practically living there for the most part aside from sleeping arrangements—that you had half expected to do the walk of shame to their house afterward.

You’re relieved when Joel offers to let you use his instead.

You both step out of the shower in tandem, dripping onto the bath mat as you stand shoulder to shoulder in the small en suite. He passes you a towel, and you both dry yourselves in silence.

You aren’t talking as usual—Joel being a man of few words—but it isn’t tense as it usually is. It’s a peaceful, relaxed silence, one that doesn’t make you second guess your every minute gesture.

Together, you go back into his bedroom. When you’re done with the towel, he takes it from you, tossing it onto a second pile of laundry in the opposite corner.

“Classy,” you tease. He smirks, and you think you might hear a faint chuckle.

You don’t expect to take this as anything other than face value—just sex—so you aren’t going to assume that he’ll want you to stay. You wonder how long he’ll ignore you this time before wanting to fuck you again.

You bend to the floor to retrieve your pants and shirt, not exactly thrilled to be slipping back into soiled material that stinks of sweat and horses, but it’s all you have available. Joel stops you the moment your fingers graze your jeans.

“What’re you doin’?” he asks.

You arch a quizzical brow at him. “Getting dressed?”

“Not’n that. You can wear somethin’ of mine to sleep in.”

You lift both brows, this time. “Sleep in?”

“Didn’t figure you’d want to go back to that uncomfortable cot,” he says. You balk.

First he asks you to shower with him and now he’s asking you to stay?

For how long?

“Sure.”

He tosses you one of his shirts—Miller Contracting, Austin, TX, it reads, and you think to yourself that’s an odd coincidence, slipping it over your head and shrugging into it. It swallows you, falling about mid-thigh.

Joel strips off the soiled bedding and replaces it with freshly cleaned linens, which he pulls from the dresser, and to your surprise they’re actually folded neatly. Maria or Ellie must have done that for him.

You fix dinner for the two of you in his kitchen—which doesn’t consist of much—namely some leftover rabbit and root vegetables from the community garden, and some slices of unleavened bread.

You had done the bulk of the cooking at your grandparents’ cabin, and what had once felt like a chore now made your heart feel full as Joel cleans his plate in front of you.

You spend the rest of the evening sharing the bottle of whiskey, laughing and swapping stories, reminiscing about the days before outbreak.

When the night grows long and the inevitability of sleep settles like a fog over both of you, you climb into bed together, but not for sex this time.

The idea of actually getting to sleep in a real bed in as many months fills you with a type of elation you had forgotten exists.

Joel pulls the blanket up over you, kissing you between your eyes before dragging your arm across his torso as he rolls the opposite way, his back now facing your front. You’re confused for a moment until it dawns on you—it’s strategical positioning, placing himself between you and the door, should a need ever arise from it. Hopefully it never will.

It makes your heart thrum happily in your chest. You kiss his exposed shoulder blade, and he damn near purrs.

“Goodnight, Joel.”

“G’night,” he repeats, saying your name sleepily. There’s a short pause. “Hey.”

“What?” you ask.

“Don’t want you to leave Jackson,” he states.

You smile, hugging him tighter, burying your face into the curly strands of hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m not going anywhere,” you say.

#writing #romance #smut #author #fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro fanfic #the last of us #joel x reader #joel fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fic

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daughterofcain-67 · 1 year ago

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𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 (pt. 3)

(Beau Arlen x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: When Beau wraps up at least one end of his case, he finds that there’s more and he may be sinking into some sort of rabbit hole. It’s his job to get Helena Montana out of this mess and safe once more with Hoyt’s help. Meanwhile, you’re getting more friendly with Andre and you start to wonder if you should be setting your sites on someone who has the time for you. What will you do when one of the two men in your life actually asks you out?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: mentions of some characters in season 1. Kidnapping case and discussions of human traffiking. Beginning of the love triangle. I think that’s it?

Beau and Jenny found Irene’s grandson, evidently named Sean, driving the green SUV down the road. They followed him and they were able to stop him at one of the many back roads of Helena Montana.

When the car was stopped, Beau and Jenny got out of Beau’s car and of course the two officers were cautious. They had their arms ready just in case.

“Sean? We need you to step out of the vehicle.” Beau said, a little wary of what might happen.

When the car door slowly opened up, a lanky looking red head with curly hair and freckles carefully stepped out of the vehicle with his hands up.

“I-I know why you’re here. And I’m so sorry…” This poor kid couldn’t have been older than nineteen. Fresh out of high school, could be a freshman in college.

“Come on, kiddo. Let’s get you down to the station. We just need to talk about a few things.” Jenny said.

Sean nodded and he stood still and put his arms behind his back.

“Oh, there’s no need for that. You aren’t under arrest.” The deputy promised and it took everything Beau had in him not to say the words “not yet” afterward.

When they got Sean into the car, they made it to the station about thirty minutes later. They got Sean’s fingerprints before getting him into the interrogation room.

Jenny and Sean sat down across from one another while Beau was a little too antsy to have a seat. He just wanted to get those two women found before anything bad would happen to them.

“You said you knew what this was about, right? So, Sean, why don’t you tell us what happened, tell us your side.” Jenny said. Beau supposed she was trying to play good cop for once since this was practically a kid.

“Well… All of it was just so I could help my grandma pay her hospital bills. She just had both her hips replaced several months ago but for whatever reason her insurance and social security couldn’t cover all of it. The co-pay was a little too much for her to afford. She’s also really far behind on some of her other bills.” Sean began and he looked down at his hands.

“So you’re trying to be a good grandson. What did you do?” Beau asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I-I made a mistake… I met this guy at a bar. He didn’t give me his real name. All I knew him as was Ace. And Ace told me that I could help pay for my grandmother’s bills if I just… did some driving for him.” Sean said.

“Driving? To where? What were you transporting?” Beau’s brows narrowed.

“H-He is a part of some gang. I don’t know what gang or what they wanted, but I was supposed to take whatever ladies he had blindfolded and take them to this site. It was different every time. I-It was like they were selling people for whatever reasons.” Sean continued.

“The Syndicate? Was that who it was?” Jenny asked, remembering the case with the truck driver, Ronald Perlman, and the state trooper, Rick Legarski.

“No, I think it was someone else. Maybe someone who buys from the Syndicate or something. Maybe it’s something similar to whatever Syndicate you’re talking about? I-I don’t know for sure. I’m sorry…”

“How long does it take for the buyer to get to the site?” Beau questioned, voice growing more stern.

“It depends on how fast we can get them to answer, or rather when Ace can get them on the phone. He got them on the phone three days ago. The buyer is supposed to come by sometime early next week. I think in about two days if their on schedule.” Sean said.

“Do you remember where the site is? Can you take us there?”

Sean was a little hesitant. He seemed unsure about something and he was shaking his leg under the table. Things weren’t supposed to be this way. It was supposed to be simple. An easy payday so he could take care of his grandmother.

“I-If I show you, is there any way I can get protection from these guys? Or protection for my grandmother at least?” He asked.

Jenny looked up at Beau who’s brow was raised in the air, arms still firmly in place over his chest as if he hadn’t moved the whole time.

“We can get the FBI involved and let them know the Syndicate or someone similar is hitting up Helena again.” Beau said, “We’ll see what we can do about your grandmother at least. I don’t know what deal they’ll offer you since you were an accomplice.”

“I’ll take it! As long as she’s okay.”

“Great. Hoyt, grab some reinforcements and call some backup in case there’s any conflict. Time to hit the road.” Beau instructed and walked out of the interrogation room.

Beau had grabbed a bullet proof vest and proceeded to put it on before stepping outside to get into his vehicle. When he did, Beau realized that it was already dark outside by this time. If this case were simpler, he would be at your house watching that movie with you. there was nothing else he would rather be doing right now. He would have loved to be under some random throw blanket he had with you beside him.

But this was his job and this was his priority whether he liked it or not.

It was time to get Sidney Ferguson and Ember O’Riley back to their families. They’ve been under enough stress for this past week and it’s time to put an end to this. At least an end for their means.

Yet for some reason, Beau had this unsettling feeling that whatever group this was, they weren’t done with Helena just yet.

You were sitting on the couch with your sister and Andre. Sure enough, Cassie wasn’t able to make it and of course Beau had told you from that phone call that he and Jenny couldn’t make it tonight. So it was just the three of you watching The Shining and you had forgotten just how good of an actor Nicholson was in this role.

Somewhere in the middle of the movie, Cadence got up from her seat next to you on the couch.

“I’m grabbing a drink. Can I get either of you anything?”

“Sure, I’d like one if you don’t mind.” Andre said.

“I’m good.” You replied, then you watched your sister leave to go to the kitchen.

You looked at the tv again, but you weren’t exactly sure why your mind was suddenly drawing a blank. You knew you would be sitting here enjoying the movie with your sister and your guest, but you couldn’t help but think about the sheriff.

What kind of complications were there? Had he finally gotten a break in the case? Was he going to be able to find those girls? Would he come out of this okay?

“You’re thinking of your sheriff friend, huh?” Andre’s voice broke you from your thoughts. You looked at him for a moment and you have a half of a smile.

“That obvious? I’m sorry, you must think I’m really rude.” You apologized and looked down at your hands in embarrassment.

“No, that’s alright. I’m just curious… is he more than a friend to you?” He asked and you could feel his gaze on you.

You shook your head, “I don’t think he’ll ever be more than a friend. My sister is kind of an advocate for something to happen between me and him, but she has to face the reality that his work is his priority. I can’t stand in the way of that. What he does is important, and all I can really do is hope that he is at least safe with whatever case he’s on.”

“So… not more than a friend but you wish that wasn’t the case, hmm?” Andre asked and you looked over at him and grinned.

“You’re awfully nosey with me and him aren’t you? You and Cadence could bond over that.” You rolled your eyes, “But no, I don’t want him to be anything more than a friend. A person like him would make a much better friend than anything beyond that.”

You may have been lying through your teeth, but if you said the lie out loud maybe you could actually believe it one day. Beau would make a much better friend for you. You couldn’t get attached to him of all people, at least not romantically attached.

“I see.” Andre began but you watched him tuck his bottom lip between his teeth as his gaze went down to the space between the two of you. You could see the gears turning in his mind before he finally spoke again.

“So, hypothetically, if I were to ask you out on a date.. would you refuse?”

The question stunned you. Honestly you were speechless. You weren’t even sure if you were ready to hop back into dating but that was when your sister came into the room again.

“Of course she wouldn’t refuse! She hasn’t dated in forever and she really needs to get out more.” Cadence piped up and answered for you. You looked up at her wide eyed, wondering why the hell she was answering a question you weren’t even sure about.

“Really? How long has it been?” Andre asked and you looked back at him before you rubbed the back of your neck.

“Let’s just go with a little too long… so when do you want to go out on this date? And what do you have in mind?” You asked.

He smiled at you, apparently glad that you were willing to go along with this even if your sister practically volunteered you into this, “Why don’t we leave that as a mystery for let’s say… tomorrow morning? I’ll pick you up at nine.”

That soon? You didn’t know Andre was quite that ambitious but why not go for it? It’s not like anyone else was lining up to date you really. And it was just one time right? How bad could it be?

“Sure, nine sounds great.” You agreed as Cadence handed Andre his drink.

Then you could hear an unfamiliar ringtone and you saw Andre fish his phone from his pocket.

“Is everything alright?” You asked and you could hear him sigh seemingly out of aggravation, if that was the right word for it.

“Just when we were having a good time, I get a message from an associate. He says we need to have a meeting and it’s pretty urgent.” He said.

You smiled a little. Honestly you weren’t sure if you could complain. You weren’t sure what the jewelry business was like so you didn’t know if Andre would be as busy as Beau. Then again if he was and the two of you continued after tomorrows date goes well, you could understand that he was still starting to get established here in Montana. That would take some time.

Then again, that was all in the hypothetical and if everything would work out after tomorrow’s date.

“It’s getting pretty late anyways. We can always watch this another time or something. Go ahead for your meeting.” You said.

Andre smiled at you before he leaned in. You felt the warmth of his lips on your cheek, which sort of startled you because it was an unexpected gesture. When he pulled away, he grinned, “Thank you for understanding. I’ll be here by tomorrow morning.”

Then you watched him get up, causing you to stand as well so you could walk him out to the door. When the door was opened, you looked up at him, “Be safe on the way home, or to your meeting, or wherever the meeting is taking place whether its at home or not.”

“You’re rather adorable when you begin to ramble, aren’t you?” He chuckled, “But I’ll let you know when I get home. So don’t worry that pretty little head of yours.”

With that, you watched him leave and step into his truck before driving into the night.

You smiled to yourself. You weren’t quite sure where things would go between the two of you, but you hoped that maybe this could help you move on from the sheriff since that didn’t really seem to be going anywhere.

Somehow, though, it felt almost like you were cheating on Beau in a way. You didn’t think Beau knew you had feelings for him, but you wondered if this was right.

All you could do for the time being was wait and see what would happen next.

Beau, Jenny, and the other officers that were called to the site where Sean dropped the women off were successful on their mission.

Both Ember and Sidney were safe and sound, finally, and Jenny was talking with Sidney to see if there was any information on this Ace fellow that she could gather.

Ember was sitting on another ambulance with a blanket around her while a paramedic was checking on her. Both the girls would end up being taken to a hospital to check on their well being. As well as Ember’s baby. Beau knew that James would be elated to have his bride back. As for Sidney, you knew Lidia and their parents would be eager to see their family member again.

He was just glad that he was able to get these two women back safely. He just hoped that these girls could give them some kind of information.

Beau watched as the paramedics took the two girls away and Jenny walked towards him with her hands in the pockets of her jacket.

“What’d you find out?” Beau asked.

“Well, not a whole lot. Sean was wrong about this Ace fella buying from the Syndicate. I think it’s an entirely different operation. It’s still related to trafficking, but it’s a different organization. They were planning on letting Ember go anyway because apparently expecting mothers aren’t in the criteria. But they didn’t let her go because they figured she’d tell authorities.” Hoyt explained.

“I think we’re gonna have to figure out how to get in contact with Ace. Or at least locate him and we can figure out how to get them out of here before someone else gets taken.”

“That’s a great idea and all, but we’re gonna have to wait on some DNA results. We collected some cigarette buds and we think that any saliva collected could help us figure out if Ace is in the data base anywhere.”

“Well what are we supposed to do until then? Just sit around on our hands and hope for the best?”

Jenny sighed before she reached up and adjusted the jacket Beau was wearing, “We celebrate this victory. Ember and Sidney are safe and they’re going back to their families. And who knows, maybe this whole thing might be over when this Ace fella finds out that their operation was compromised and they may not come back to Helena.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

“So, a way you can celebrate, Arlen, is you can get your ass down to Y/N’s house and apologize to her about missing out tonight. Find a way to make it up to her. Because you know damned well that ladies like her don’t stay single forever.”

Beau thought about it for a moment and he thought about how you sounded disappointed in that phone call when he said he wouldn’t be able to make it that night. He knew you were the understanding sort, so would you actually hold it against him?

“Yeah.. I suppose I could go over. She’ll want to know that Ember and Sidney are safe now.” He nodded.

So that was exactly what he did.

When Beau made it to your house, he saw that the porch light was still on. He half expected it to be turned off considering it was getting close to midnight. We’re you alright?

He stepped out of his car and looked down when he realized the bulletproof vest was still on. He took it off and tossed it into the car and shut the door. When he made it to your porch, he lifted a hand and gently knocked on the door, hoping that you would answer.

After a few moments of waiting, the door finally opened up. He saw you there with a messy bun, an AC/DC shirt and some sleeping shorts. You looked like you were ready for bed even if you looked wide awake.

“Beau? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s alright… I just wanted to check on ya.”

“Check on me? What for?” He heard the slightest chuckle in your voice and he smiled a little before he shook his head.

“Never mind, Darlin… I did want to say that we did finally get those two girls back. They should be on their way home either tonight or tomorrow morning once their released from the hospital. They had one of those routine checkups done as far as I know.” He admitted and he saw a smile appear on your face.

“That’s good. I’m glad things were able to work out. But you know you could have told me that on the phone. So why are you really here?”

Beau couldn’t help but wonder why he felt so hesitant now. Why was he there? What was he doing on your porch close to midnight? All of this could have been done over the phone, but he just wanted to see you, he supposed.

“I um… I wanted to apologize for missin’ movie night.”

“You know I’ll never hold the job against you, Beau. You did well tonight and I’m glad you guys were able to make sure those girls got back to their families before something bad happened.” You promised.

“Right.. but uh… I was wondering if there was some way I could make it up to you?” He asked and he watched you tilt your head to the side a little.

“Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I have the day off tomorrow. Maybe we can do something?” That was when he saw the expression in your face change.

“Um… tomorrow won’t exactly work for me. I’m supposed to be going on a uh.. friend date tomorrow.”

“A friend date?”

“Yeah, it’s with Andre. I’m just going to be showing him some of the fun spots in town. Nothing too fancy really.”

Beau felt this twinge of jealousy within him and he hated it. He didn’t like that you were going on a date with a guy you just met a couple of days ago. We’re you insane?! What if he was dangerous? What if he was just going to use you somehow?

All of these scenarios were playing in his mind and he wasn’t exactly sure what to say.

“Oh.. I see…”

“But if you still want to make things up to me…” He heard you trailing off for a moment, “This weekend, you and I should have a movie night at your place. Just the two of us. I’ll bring some marshmallows to roast and we can make s’mores.”

This was your request? You two have had plenty of movie nights together since Jenny or Cassie couldn’t make it once in a while if they were caught up with their own lives. But he couldn’t exactly recall the last time you said it should just be the two of you.

“I think that ought to be doable.” Beau smiled down at you.

“Good. So… I’ll see you at the coffee shop until then?” The hopefulness in your voice made that aching feeling in Beau’s stomach subside a little. He still didn’t trust Andre one bit. But at least he had something to look forward to he supposed. You did say it was just a friend date, whatever that means.

“I’ll be there.” He promised, “Now try and get some sleep. You shouldn’t be wide awake this late at night.” He grinned.

You rolled your eyes a little before you stood taller on your tipped toes. Suddenly he felt your soft lips on his scruffy cheek, taking him by surprise.

“You need your sleep too, Sheriff. You’ve had a long night and you deserve the rest.” He heard you say and he gazed down at you.

“I’ll do my best, Sweetheart… Goodnight.” He said with a softer tone.

“Goodnight, Beau.” You replied and he watched you slowly shut the door.

Beau sighed and he ran a hand through his hair before he turned around and went to his car.

While he was walking, though, he got a phone call, causing him to let out a grumble to himself. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and answered while he got into the vehicle. “Arlen. What’s happening?”

“We need you to get to Irene’s house. I was wrong. I don’t think this is over, Beau.”

Hey guys! Thank you for reading! I hope you guys are enjoying this series so far! There’s more to this case than meets the eye and one has to wonder just who this Ace is. We’ll see where this goes!

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@roseblue373 @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @fanfic-n-tabulous

#jensen ackles #beau arlen #beau arlen ff #jensen ackles beau arlen #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x reader #sheriff beau arlen #beau arlen x yn #spn #jensen big sky #jensen ackles big sky #big sky fanfiction #big sky fanfic #big sky #big sky beau arlen #supernatural

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