#beau angst

[rizlowwritessortof]

Unforgivable - Part 2

Sequel to A Little Rowdy, because I just wasn’t done with those two! Planning for three parts (unless my muse goes crazy, it happens). Huge thanks to editsbymichele (IG) for the lovely Beau header - beautiful as always, my friend!! And thank you to @firefly-graphics for the divider!

Beau and Laney have settled into a comfortable relationship, things are smooth and easy - until Laney is threatened, and Beau strongly suspects she’s not the real target.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Laney Marcus

Word Count: 3012

Warnings: Smut (as usual), stalking, menacing behavior

Part 1

Laney watched as the tow truck hauled her car away, Beau’s arm around her shoulders as they stood, talking to Poppernak. “I know you probably think it’s overkill, but I just want to make damn sure nothing else was tampered with,” Beau said, giving her a squeeze, and she nodded.

“I know. I’ll feel better knowing it’s all checked out, thank you.” She had finally stopped shaking, but she was thoroughly spooked.

Beau pulled away, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking down into her eyes. “Listen – I want you to go home with Pops, stay there until I get back.” Before she could speak in protest, he moved to cradle her face with a gentle smile. “I won’t be gone long. But I want to talk to your ex.”

She frowned in confusion. “Garrett? Beau, he’s in prison.”

“Yep. And I want to make sure he isn’t directing this little show from there.”

Poppernak cleared his throat. “You think he could swing something like that, boss?”

Beau sighed, pulling Laney into a hug. “I don’t know, but I want to see him face-to-face and get a read. If it’s not him, then we start from square one and figure it out.” He bent to place a lingering kiss on Laney’s lips. “Pops, drop me off at the office, I need to grab a squad car – Pedro’s out of commission.”

A couple of hours later, Beau sat in an interrogation room in Montana State Prison. It was a longshot that Laney’s ex had anything to do with threatening her, but he wanted to check every possibility. The guard ushered the prisoner into the room, handcuffed him to the ring on the table, and turned to stand quietly in the corner.

Garrett glared at the sheriff, and Beau geared back in his chair, a smirk on his lips as he took in the man’s appearance. “Been makin’ friends, I see.”

Garrett was sporting a black eye and stitches on the right side of his face, along with several other bruises and scrapes. “Fuck you.”

“I’m just here for one question. Did you send someone on the outside after Laney?”

The man stared back at him stupidly. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Just answer the question.”

“How the fuck do you think I’d do that? I’ve been a little busy trying to watch my own ass in this hellhole, so no. I didn’t send anybody after anybody. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m done talking to you.”

Beau nodded. “Glad to hear it. If you did, I’d make sure your hell got much worse.” He stood as the guard came to let the prisoner loose from the table and turn him towards the door. “By the way – happy to see you’re getting a taste of your own medicine.” Garrett glared before turning to leave the room, guard at his back.

Beau stopped to speak to a couple of the guards on his way out, finally heading back out the gates, satisfied that his former prisoner had no involvement in whatever the hell was going on. His mind churned the whole drive home, a sick conviction in his gut that this wasn’t about Laney at all – somebody was targeting her to get to him.

Laney was in the kitchen talking to Poppernak’s mother when Beau got back to Helena, and Pop stepped outside to talk to him quietly before he came inside.

“So what did you find out?”

“It wasn’t him. I didn’t really think so, but I wanted to make sure. Talked to him, talked to the guards, they said he spends half his time in solitary and the other half getting patched up in the infirmary because he’s not smart enough to keep his mouth shut. He doesn’t have any friends in there, and he hasn’t had any visitors or called anybody.” Beau sighed, biting on the inside of his lip. “I’m afraid what’s going on isn’t about her. It’s about me. Somebody’s going after Laney to get to me, and I can’t let that happen, Pops. We need to figure this out.”

The big man nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re right boss. And we will. And we just won’t leave her alone until we do.”

“Damn straight.” Beau clapped his deputy on the back, heading inside the house.

“Beau!” Laney walked into his arms, squeezing him tight before pulling back to look up at him. He put a hand to her face with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“It wasn’t Garrett, I’m sure of that. Wanted to look him in the eye to make sure. So we’re starting from square one, but I don’t want you to worry, honey. You’re gonna have somebody with you 24-7 until we get whoever’s doing this.”

Laney rode back to the office with Beau, and they picked up her car from the garage there. Beau spoke with the techs, verifying nothing had been tampered with, and they headed back to her place, both ready for a beer and a long, hot shower.

They showered together, but Laney was quiet, withdrawn, and Beau knew she was unsettled from the day’s events. He dried himself and went to the bedroom, pulling on a pair of black sleep pants, then headed to the kitchen to ready the coffee pot for the next morning. When he returned, Laney was still not there, so he walked into the bathroom, watching silently for a moment as she stood in front of the mirror, still wrapped in her damp towel, lost in thought.

At the warm touch of his hands on her shoulders, she moved her gaze to meet his in the mirror, a sorry attempt at a smile quirking at the corners of her mouth. “You okay?” he asked softly.

She leaned back into him, and he wrapped his arms around her. “Not really.”

He turned her to face him, bending to kiss her, sweet and gentle. “I’m so sorry, Laney. Whoever this is, they went after you to get to me. I wish I could erase what happened, but I promise you, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

“What about you? You keep saying you’ll keep me safe, but what about you, Beau?” She looked at him with tears in her eyes, and he clenched his teeth against a wave of guilt. Because of something he had done, someone he had pissed off – he didn’t know what, or who, but they were willing to terrorize a completely innocent person just to get to him. And she was worrying about him.

“I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ve got Pops and Jenny, my whole team to help me figure it out. We’ll be okay.” He kissed her again, and she reached up to cling to his neck, Beau’s hands splayed over her back to hold her tight. The way her lips moved on his, the tip of her tongue teasing at the seam sent a flash of heat through him, his cock twitching and swelling as their kiss deepened. He lifted his head, his lips parted as he inhaled, staring down into her eyes. “I don’t know how you do that.”

“Do what?” she asked innocently, and he shook his head slightly, a smirk teasing at his mouth.

“Make me want to protect you like some precious thing and at the same time want to make you scream my name.”

She smiled, genuinely this time. “Can’t you do both?” she teased, her eyes sparkling as she loosened her towel, letting it drop to the floor.

“Oh, hell, yeah…” He scooped her up in his arms, moving quickly to the bedroom and laying her down, immediately covering her with his body, his lips on her throat and moving quickly downward to her breasts, her nipples already hard and begging for attention. He teased and nibbled at them briefly, moving down with a low chuckle at her whine. “Patience, darlin’.”

“Don’t be mean,” she pouted, and Beau flashed a sexy grin as he continued kissing his way down her body. He finally settled himself down between her legs, dragging his thumbs up the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs.

“So damn pretty,” he crooned, leaning in close to give a little flick of his tongue to her clit before burrowing into her folds with his lips and tongue, forcing a startled little cry from her lips.

“Beau, oh, my god…”

He peeked up at her again with a smirk. “You can do better than that,” he teased, and then went back to work, determined to make her forget everything but the two of them. Before long she was grasping his hair, writhing underneath him as he held her in place with one arm, his other hand a blur as he fucked her with his fingers, sucking her clit as he worked it with his tongue.

Everything inside her broke loose and she wailed his name, her hand wound so tight in his hair that it ached, and he almost lost control along with her at the desperation in her voice as she begged. “Please, oh god, PLEAAASE… Beau!!” He backed off slowly, easing her down until she went limp, whimpering softly as he grabbed the corner of the sheet and scrubbed it over his face, then moved up to drop gentle kisses to her face and lips.

“You alright, sweet girl?” he murmured as he nuzzled at her neck, lacing the fingers of one hand through hers.

She finally let her eyes drift open, looking up at him with a dreamy smile. “You, sir, are a menace.”

He chuckled, bending down to kiss her softly, teasing at her tongue with the tip of his. She sighed, wrapping her arms around him and dragging her nails whisper-soft down the smooth skin of his back, making him moan.

“That’s your fault. I mean, hell, I walk around at work half-hard all day long.” Her hands reached the firm globes of his ass and squeezed, and he moaned again as the head of his cock barely breached her entrance, still slick and hot from her climax. He pushed ahead, his breath catching in his chest at the feel of her, pulsing and squeezing him tight, and she slid her silken legs up to cling to his hips, straining to pull him deeper.

“Fuck me, Beau,” she whispered, nipping gently at his lower lip, barely able to breathe at the heat in his gaze. He let out a desperate groan, capturing her lips in a ravenous kiss and driving deep inside her, smothering the sounds forced from her with each stroke until they had to break apart, gasping for air.

He kissed her neck, moving down to brush his face over the curve of her breast before latching on to suck a mark into the soft flesh. He looked up into her eyes, the green of his own dark, pupils blown. “You want me nice and deep?” Laney whined softly as he held himself still, resisting her coaxing him to move, and she nodded before tossing her head back into the pillow. “Turn over for me, darlin’.”

He pulled himself free and raised up to his knees, helping her roll to her stomach, his hands smoothing over her hips and helping her raise them until she was on her knees, her head still resting on the pillow. She grabbed fistfuls of the bedding as Beau slid slowly back inside her, rocking back and forth gently for a moment, hands caressing over her smooth skin. Then he pulled back, hesitating for a second before plunging back in to the limit as Laney cried out, her voice muffled in the pillow. He gripped her hips and kept his promise, fucking into her hard and deep, their bodies slapping together in a furious rhythm until she was begging incoherently. Beau clenched his jaw and reached down to strum at her clit, and she shouted into the pillow, almost sobbing as she came, clutching wildly at the sheets.

Beau drove himself on, teeth bared, balls drawn up tight as he finally exploded with a growl, his head spinning with the force of his climax. He fell forward, catching himself on his arms, his heaving chest against her back as she whimpered weakly beneath him.

Laney closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before fielding yet another phone call. The office was hopping the last few days with the annual Oktoberfest and rodeo on the upcoming weekend, and as the week wore on it got crazier. The event was held at the county fairgrounds, so it fell on the County Sheriff’s department instead of the city police, and they were swamped with vendors and participants coming in for permits, asking for information, and settling disputes over anything and everything. When the festival actually began on Thursday, the town would be full to overflowing with people attending, which usually involved a lot of drunks, bar fights and cowboy wannabes getting themselves injured.

She had only seen Beau in flashes, except for when he finally made it back to her place at night, usually late. He had gently laid down the law about her having someone with her at all times if she was out and about, even though they had seen nothing more of their stalker. He was okay with her at the office, where she was surrounded by cops, but made her promise not to leave without Pops or Jenny or someone with her. Her spirit of independence was rebelling, but she knew he was right, and that he just had her safety in mind, so she complied without complaint. Hopefully whoever it was had been discouraged at the organized chaos currently going on in town, but she had that ominous feeling that the other shoe would drop sooner or later.

She finished up her call, looking up at the sound of Beau’s voice near the front desk, where he was dealing with two feuding vendors. She smiled to herself at the way he just seemed to charm them, calming the situation and sending them on their way. He turned, his eyes landing on her, and he spoke to the desk officer before walking her way. “Hey, Laney – how’s your day going?”

“Not as crazy as yours.” She smiled up at him as he perched on the corner of her desk. “You look exhausted, Beau.”

“Nah, I’m good. Gotta be. Got a few more days of this insanity before it’s over, so…” He looked into her eyes with that searching-your-soul gaze that always made her breath hitch in her chest. “Are you doing okay, really? I hate leaving you alone so much after…”

“Beau, I’m fine, really. You’re just doing your job, and I’m a big girl, don’t waste time worrying about me.”

“Nothing to do with you is a waste of my time, darlin’.” His lips quirked in a wistful little smile. “I’d love to kiss you right now.”

“I’d love for you to kiss me right now.” She bit her lip, and he groaned softly.

His tongue darted out to sweep over his lips, and he stood reluctantly. “I’d better get back to work before I do something that’ll get me fired. See you later.” Laney sent him off with a gentle smile, reaching for her ringing phone as he headed into his office.

Cassie and Denise picked her up for lunch, and Denise’s gushing over some of the recently arrived cowboys was a welcome distraction for a while. When she got back to work, Beau was out, and Laney settled back in at her desk to more calls and forms to file.

Beau came in later on, Pops on his heels, and they both headed for his office. A couple of minutes later, Beau charged out of his door, his expression thunderous, his voice loud as he approached the front desk. “Who brought this in?” He waved a manila envelope in the air, waiting impatiently for someone to answer. “Madge?”

Madge glared back at him over the top of her glasses, then barked out, “Aaron!” The desk officer excused himself from the person he was helping and approached the two of them.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Who dropped this envelope off for the sheriff?” Her usual humorless stare was aimed at the young officer, who stammered a little as he answered, aiming his words to Beau.

“Well, sir – I’m sorry, but I don’t know. I was busy with several people, and by the time I noticed it laying on the counter, whoever dropped it off was long gone.”

Beau’s jaw was clenched, but he nodded curtly. “Okay, thank you. I get it, it’s been crazy in here. Better get back to…” he gestured with a head nod towards the man waiting at the counter.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Beau turned, walking back towards his office, tossing his words over his shoulder. “And stop calling me ‘sir’!”

Laney rose from her desk and walked to Beau’s office, glancing at Poppernak as she walked through the door. His face was grim, and she turned to face Beau, who was standing with his hands braced on his desk, his jaw working. “Beau, what is it?”

He shot a glance Pop’s way before standing up straight. “Shut the door, Laney.”

She nodded, then came to his side, and he turned to put his arms around her, hugging her tight for a moment. When he finally let her go, she looked up at him with a worried frown. “Tell me.”

He tilted his head towards his desk, and she pulled free from his grasp to turn and look. The envelope was on top, addressed simply to ‘Sheriff Beau Arlen – Confidential.’ She moved it, her heart beginning to pound in her chest as she stared down at the array of photographs, pictures of her and Beau during their movie night, obviously shot with a long-range lens. With the photos was another handwritten note in large, red letters – ‘YOU CAN’T PROTECT HER.’

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[deansbeer]

★ soup, snuggles, and mr. wiggles // beau arlen.

synopsis. you're sick during a visit to montana, but your dad, comes to the rescue with chicken star soup, snacks, and your old childhood stuffed bear, reminding you that you're never too old to be cared for.

warning(s). fluffy fluff fluff | older daughter!reader | caregiving dad beau | mild illness (stomach bug) | nausea | fatigue | father-daughter bonding | nostalgia | childhood memories (beloved stuffed bear & favorite soup).

kari yaps. i love my pretty cowboy sheriff sososo much && literally don't have anything written for him + this idea was perfect for beau, because one im an older sister / daughter myself & two my brain was wired up @ 2am ???? n i took that opportunity to write. but i only got halfway & BARELY got to finishing it 2day.

you knew it was a bad idea the second you bit into the chicken sandwich. something about it tasted... off, but you hadn't eaten at all during your flight from houston to montana, and your stomach didn't give you much of a choice. by the time you arrived at the airbnb you rented, you were already feeling the first signs of regret—your stomach twisting uncomfortably, your body heavy with fatigue. you chalked it up to exhaustion from the drive, but when you woke up the next morning, nausea hit you like a freight train.

you'd planned today for weeks—just you and your dad, a father-daughter day he'd been talking about nonstop since you told him you were visiting. he'd even promised emily she'd get her turn after you left because, as he put it, "this one's special. just me and my girl." and now, lying on the couch of your airbnb, wrapped in a blanket, you felt guilt gnawing at you because there was no way you could keep those plans. your stomach rolled again, and you groaned, reaching for your phone to call him.

"hey, sweetheart," he answered on the first ring, his voice bright with excitement. "you ready for me to pick you up? i've got the whole day mapped out—breakfast, a little fishing, and maybe we can stop by that trail you liked last time."

you winced, both at the enthusiasm in his voice and the wave of nausea that hit you. "uh, about that…"

he instantly picked up on your tone. "what's wrong?"

"nothing," you said quickly, even though your voice was weak. "i just… i don't think i can make it today. i'm not feeling great."

"not feeling great how?" his voice lost its lightness, replaced by concern.

"it's nothing, dad. probably just something i ate. i just need to rest, that's all."

there was a pause, and you could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. "where are you staying again? that little airbnb by the creek?"

"dad, no, you don't have to—"

"i'll be there in twenty," he said firmly, already moving. "and don't even think about arguing with me."

you sighed, knowing there was no point in trying to stop him. "fine. okay, dad."

"what kind of dad would i be if i didn’t take care of my girl when she's sick?" he said, his voice softening. "sit tight, sweetheart. i'll be there soon."

true to his word, twenty minutes later, you heard the familiar rumble of his car pulling into the driveway. you managed to shuffle to the door, opening it just as he walked up, two large grocery bags in his hands and a determined look on his face.

"you look terrible," he said bluntly, though the warmth in his eyes softened the blow. "not that you're not still the prettiest thing i've ever seen."

"thanks, dad," you muttered, stepping aside to let him in. "just what every girl wants to hear."

he set the bags on the counter and turned to you, his hands on his hips. "all right, let's see what we've got here. crackers, ginger ale, that soup you used to love when you were little—chicken and stars, remember that?—and some popsicles, because you'd always ask for those when you were sick. oh, and a heating pad, in case you've got chills."

you felt a lump rise in your throat as you watched him unpack everything, his movements quick and efficient. he was always like this when you were a kid—hands-on, attentive, making sure you had everything you needed even when life got chaotic. and now, standing in your little airbnb kitchen, he looked just the same, though his beard was a little grayer and the lines around his eyes a little deeper.

"dad, you didn't have to do all this," you said, your voice thick with emotion.

he glanced at you, his expression softening. "yeah, i did. you're my kid, darlin'. it doesn't matter if you're five or twenty-five, i'm always gonna take care of you."

you blinked rapidly, willing the tears not to fall. "i suppose you're right."

he gave you a small smile before turning back to the bags. "and because i know you're gonna get crabby—don't deny it, you've always been a little bear when you're under the weather—I brought backup.” he pulled out a small stuffed bear, its brown fur worn and familiar. "found this guy in one of the storage boxes last week and figured you might need him."

you let out a surprised laugh, reaching for the bear. "oh my god, is this… is this mr. wiggles?"

"the one and only," he said, grinning. "thought he'd been retired, but desperate times call for desperate measures."

you hugged the bear to your chest, shaking your head. "you're ridiculous."

"and you love me for it," he said, nudging your shoulder gently. "now, go lie down. i'll heat up the soup and put on a movie."

you didn't argue, too tired and too grateful to protest. you curled up on the couch again, the blanket pulled snug around you and mr. wiggles tucked under your arm. a few minutes later, your dad appeared with a tray—soup, crackers, and a glass of ginger ale—and set it on the coffee table in front of you.

"all right, what's it gonna be?" he asked, grabbing the remote. "something funny? or one of those sappy movies you always make me watch?"

you smiled faintly. "sappy. but you're not allowed to complain."

"wouldn't dream of it," he said, settling into the recliner next to you. "though if i start crying, you're not allowed to tell anyone."

"deal," you said, your smile widening.

as the movie played, you found yourself relaxing for the first time all day. your dad stayed by your side, occasionally cracking jokes or making comments about the characters, his presence a constant comfort. and even though you felt awful, you couldn't help but feel a little better knowing he was there.

"thanks for coming, dad," you said softly as the credits rolled.

he reached over, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. "always, sweetheart. you're stuck with your old man, whether you like it or not."

and in that moment, with the warmth of the blanket, the faint taste of ginger ale on your tongue, and your dad sitting nearby, you realized there was no place you’d rather be.

SPECIAL TAGS. @floralscented @titsout4jackles @deansbite @deanswidow @jasvtsc @beausling @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @lacydollette @lustagel @ultravi0lence14 @beausling @ostaramoon @rubyvhs @aileenunfiltered @bluestrd @jackleslvr @fallbhind . . . ૮っ ̫ _ ྀིა

[justwhisperingfantasies]

You Belong With Me - One Shot

Characters: Reader (y/n) - Beau Arlen- Cassie Dewell - Jenny Hoyt - Denise Brisbane - Mo Poppernak - Tiffany (o.c)-Knox (o.c)-Pete (o.c) Mention of Cody Hoyt.

Warnings: Drinking, Language, Jealousy, Angst, Fluff, lmk if I missed any.

Summary: You're in love with your best friend, but he is with someone else. You try to move on when the new cute guy in town asks you on a date.

Word count: 4,042

Hope y'all enjoy it. 💜

Please don't copy my work

Like, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated 💜

If you would like to be added to my tag list click here

Reader's Pov

“I need a favor.” Cassie grimaced walking over to your desk.

“What now?” you playfully whined.

“I need you to go sweet talk your bestie about the getting a copy of the report.

“Cass, I don’t think he’ll be ok with that.” You took a drink of your coffee. “They sealed it.”

“Oh, come on it’s you. He’ll at least let you see it. I just need a couple dates.” You gave him an unamused look “Please.” You sighed and picked up your phone. “Thank you (y/n) I owe you one”

“Yea, yea, yea” you teased as you opened your contacts, you scrolled until you found his picture and tapped the call icon next to it. You put the phone up to your ear as it begins to ring.

“Hello Darlin’.” His gruffy voice stirred up the butterflies in your stomach.

“Hello, Sheriff Arlen.” You said in your best flirty voice. He chuckled. You returned to your normal voice. “How’s your day going?”

“It’s been alright. Checking up on paperwork. How’s yours?”

“Eh ok, I guess. I was just sitting here thinking and ya know what I  realized?”

“What’s that?” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“I haven’t told my best friend was a handsome son of a bitch he is today."

He laughed. “What do you want?”

“Beau Arlen, I had offended you would accuse me of kissing ass to get something!”

He stayed silent for a second. “Are you done?”

“Yes.”

“Are you gonna tell me what you want.”

“Have you eaten lunch yet?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“I’ll be there in 15.”

“Oh lord. What are you getting me into now sweetheart?”

“See ya soon.”

As you walk up to the front doors of the sheriff’s station armored with a paper sack containing one of Beau’s favorite sandwiches from a local dinner, you pass Mo. He tipped his hat.  “Mornin', little lady.” He said with a smile.

“Deputy.” You returned the smile with a nod.

“He’s in his office.” He told you as you grabbed the door handle.

“Thanks Pop!” you walked in and made your way back to his office, but he wasn’t there. You grin as an idea pops into your hand. You sit in his chair and clear a space. Careful not to mess up his organized chaos. Leaning back, you plop your boots on his desk and cross your ankles. When he opens the door ⁴ you lean back further and cross your arms behind your head.

He laughed. “Please make yourself at home.”

“Just trying to see how the other half lives.” You smiled at him. He laughed again. “Now I hope you don’t mind, but I did some paperwork organizing while I waited.”

He pressed his lips together and flared his nostrils. “Please tell me your kidding.”

Your grimaced “I thought I was helping.” You said as you sat up.

He rushed over to his paperwork and started looking through the piles. You inhaled through your nose as he leaned in front of you, taking in his intoxicating scent of blue vetiver, sandalwood and citrusy notes. He always smelled so good.

You started laughing. “Beau, I’m just messing with you. I know better than to mess with your system.” You put air quotes on the word system.

“Hey, my desk, my process.” He finally noticed the paper sack sitting on the empty side of his desk. “Is that?” he looked at you and pointed to the bag. You nodded. “Oh, you can have whatever you want.” He said as he unwrapped his sandwich.

You smiled. “Now remember you said that.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get to it.” He said in between bites.

“I need a copy of the Goodwin report.” You gave him a big smile. He swallowed and his face went hard. “Or just the dates. Cassie has a theory, and she needs dates to confirm it.” you puckered your lips and stuck out your bottom one.” He stared at you, his face still hard as stone. “Please B.” You pleaded.

“Ya know you are putting me in a very difficult position sweetheart.”

“Nobody would know.” You turned on your puppy dog eyes.

He sighed “I can’t give you a hard copy, but I can give you dates...”

“That’s all I need.”

He leaned over you again onto his keyboard. “Look away.”

You rolled your eyes. “So paranoid.” You put your hands over your eyes. You can hear the lead on paper and he starts to hum. “Are you humming Elvis?”

“Yes. Ya know you never cease to amaze me. Not many people could recognize an Elvis song from a hum.” He stopped writing. “Alright.” He turned to face you and leaned against his desk. He held out the piece of paper but snatched it back as you reached for it. “Hold on there darlin’ he haven’t agreed on a price yet.”

Your jaw dropped. “Beaufort Arlen.” He rolled his eyes. That wasn’t his name and you knew it, but you could resist calling him that. His reaction was adorable.  “You want me to offer you a bribe?”

“No, not a bribe. More like one hell of a good cook persuading her handsome sheriff friend with her famous chicken and dumplings” He winked at you.

“Fine, but I won’t have time tonight.” You bargained. “I’ll drop them off tomorrow night.”

“Oh yeah. You’re date.” You nodded. “Maybe if you keep this one around you guys could double with me and Tiffany.” You rolled your eyes when he said her name, “Don’t be mean (y/n). She regrets what she did, and Things have been good lately.”

“Yeah, ok.” You stood up and he handed you the piece of paper. “Thanks for your help sheriff.” You head towards the door

He sighed. “Any time.”

Reader's Pov

“How did he smell today?” Denise asked you as you walked into the office.

You smiled and took a deep breath remembering his cologne. “Dreamy.”  You sink down in the chair in front of her desk.

She smiled. “And tell me why you never asked him out again?”

“Never got the chance. Tiffany just keeps weaseling her way back in, but” you pointed your finger at her. “I am over Beau Arlen.” She raised her eyebrows. “I am Denise. I have a date tonight.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, He’s name is Knox.”

“Oh, the new guy! He so cute.”

“I know. Which is why I said yes when he asked me out.” You turned your head as you heard the bell that hung above the door. “Speaking of cute.”

Cassie smiled. “Did you get it?”

“I got the dates. He said he couldn’t make me a copy.” You held out the paper for her.

“That will work.” She took it. “Thank you.” she started walking to her desk.

“Welcome.” You called after her.

“Well, I should probably get back to work, got a big ol’ pile of nothing to get back to.

“Hon you’ve closed 3 cases in the last 2 weeks, I’d say it’s a good time for a break.” Denise advised.

“Or you could do some digging for me and give me something to do.” You said with a smile.

“I can try, maybe you should call Beau.” She smiled and you rolled your eyes.

You made your way back over to your desk. You turn your computer on as you sit down. Drumming your finger while you watch the loading screen you decide to text him. You take your phone out of your jacket pocket and open it to your existing conversation.

Y/N: Beaufort

You opened your email while you waited for a reply. Nothing, absolutely nothing.

Your phone buzzed.

Beau: I’m all out of favors today darlin’

Y/N: Rude of you to assume I’m only texting you for a favor. I was actually gonna ask you if you needed help with anything.

Beau: Calm down. It was a joke. Not today. I’m still stuck at the office I have to get this paperwork done TODAY.

Y/N: Damnit. I need something to do.

Beau: Why don’t you go home early and get ready for this big date you have tonight.

Y/N: My big date isn’t until 7.  Are you saying I need 5 hours to pretty myself up.  🤔

Beau: You roll out of bed beautiful, and you know it. Just think you deserve to pamper yourself every once in awhile

Y/N: Nice save.

You hit the send button and turn off your screen. “Cassie!” You yelled.

“Yea?” she yelled back.

“Please tell me you need help with something!”

“Actually yes.”  You jumped out of your seat and rushed to her desk. “Are you that bored?” she asked.

“Yes, I’m freaking dying here.” She handed you the papers in her hand and started giving you the run down of the case she was working on.

“I’m right.” Cassie whispered as you finish  reading the dates that were in Beau’s handwriting to her.

“You’re right.” You reassured her.

“Holy shit. I have to go talk to Jenny.” She pulled her coat on. “See you at the bar tonight.”

“Um probably not. ”

“I’m sorry I forgot, I hope I don’t see you tonight,” she winked at you. “Can we give this one a fighting chance though?”

“Hardy har, har.”

Beau’s Pov

He sat down at the bar and looked up at the clock. 8:55. She’d probably be getting rid of the loser and walking through the door any minute now. “Hey Pete.” He said as the bartender approached him on the other side of the bar.

“How’s it going sheriff?” Pete said as he sat on a beer and a shot glass in front of Beau.

“We may need a bigger glass.” He told Pete as he poured the whiskey.

“That bad huh?” Pete asked. Beau just shook his head. He downed the shot of whiskey.

“I don’t know Jenny. She seemed different about this one.” Cassie said as her and Jenny walked up to the bar. “Hey Beau.”

“Ladies” Beau said tipping his hat.

“You want some company?” Jenny said as she sat on the barstool beside him.

“Sure, why not?”

“Well, geez don’t get too excited.” Cassie teased sitting on the other side of him

“What’s gotcha down?” Jenny asked as she got Pete’s attention. He brought over 2 more beers and 2 shot glasses for the girls. “

“Paperwork day, Jenny”

“Oh, that’s right.” Pete began pouring their shots and a second one for Beau. “Cheers” Jenny said holding the full shot glass up. Beau and Cassie repeated. The three of them took their shots and sat the glasses on the bar.

Beau looked up at the clock again, 9:00. Come on where was she?

“Pete, can we just get a bottle?” Jenny said grabbing her beer and her glass. Pete grabbed an unopened bottle of the same whiskey and handed it to her. “Thank you. Can you put it on my tab?” Pete nodded. “Grab your glasses and bottles.” She led them over to a high top by the dart board.

“You really wanna play darts?” Beau asked sitting his beer and glass on the table.

“Well not really, but it gets you away from that clock.”

“Touche.”

“Come on. We’ll make it fun. Every time someone gets a bullseye, we drink, every time someone misses the board, we drink.” Jenny persuaded.

“Every time someone throws a dart, we drink.” Cassie teased making Beau chuckle.

Jenny grabbed 3 darts of different colors, handing one color to Cassie and another to Beau. “Alright.” He gestured for her to go first.

They took turns throwing the darts on the board and he was actually having a decent time. After 3 shots he checked his phone. 9:30. What the hell.

“Well, I guess (y/n)’s date must be going well. 2 and a half hours. No calls, no texts, and she hasn’t shown up here yet.” Cassie said.

“Or she’s at home drinking alone.” Beau rebuttals

Jenny poured another round of shots. They clinked and downed them. “Beau, you’re up.”

As he was throwing his last dart, he heard Jenny let a whistle out. There she was finally. Beau threw his dart and turned around. His heart nearly exploded in his chest. She was wearing olive green western looking dress, low cut, very low cut. The lower hem dangle over her cowboy boots, His eyes traced up to her face, God she was just beautiful. Makeup done up all nice and her hair in curls under a cowboy hat that matched her boots. What he wouldn’t give to be the guy holding her hand right now. It should be him not this pretty country boy wannabe. Ugh he rolled his eyes. She smiled at them and mouthed the words oh my god as they made their way to the bar.

“Damn she looks good.” Jenny exclaimed.

“So does her date!” Cassie added as they sat down at their table. He purposely sat in the chair facing the opposite direction.

“He ain’t that good lookin’.” Beau sneered.

“Oh Beau. Don’t be jealous. You know we love you too.” Cassie teased.

His ears got hot as he heard her laugh. Clearly, she was interested in this guy.  He huffed and poured himself a shot.

“Hey pretty lady!” Cassie said as (y/n) walked up to the table.

She smiled. “Hey guys. This is Knox.”  She gestured towards him. “Knox. These are my best friends. Jenny,” Jenny put out her hand the Knox shook it. “Cassie.” They repeated. “And this is Beau.”

He put his hand out “Sheriff Beau Arlen. I’m sorry Knot was it” (y/n) glared at him.

Knox chuckled. “No sir, Knox” he emphasized the x on the end. “With a x”

“My bad.” Beau said with a smile.

“So, tell us Knox what do you do?” Jenny asked.

“I’m a veterinarian.” She raised her eyebrows at Cassie.

“Oh, are you going to work at Andy’s place?” Jenny asked

“Until I take it over.” Jenny and Cassie furrowed their eyebrows. “Andy is my dad. He is fixin’ to retire within the next year or so.”

Beau’s phone started to ring. “That’s probably Tiff.” He noticed (y/n)’s eye roll. “I should get going anyways. See you girls tomorrow. Box nice meeting you.” She shook her head. “Good night y’all.”

Reader's Pov

Today was your return to the office after taking a 3-day week. You and Knox made things official after 4 weeks of dating. He took you out to his family’s lake house for the weekend to celebrate. You took a deep breath and walked through the door.

A big grin spread across Denise’s face when she looked up “How was he. I mean it? “

You chuckled. “It was good.” You turn to walk to your desk

“The weekend or the sex?” she asked.

“Both.” You said and started walking. She chuckled.

As you sat down your phone started ringing. You looked at the screen “Really?” you said out loud. It was Beau, you haven’t really seen or talked to him in about 2 or 3 weeks, only in passing. Wonder what he wants you thought to yourself.

“Beaufort. What’s wrong?”

“You busy today?”

“not sure I just got in.”

“ok well find out and let me know. I need you.”

“Ok. Let me talk to Cass and I’ll call you back.”

“Ok.” He hung up.

“Ok Beau.” You opened the door to find him pacing in his office. “what’s wrong?”

“Should I ask Tiffany to marry me?” He blurted out.

“Um excuse me?” You practically fell into the nearest chair as your legs went numb from shock.

“So, this morning as I was leaving Tiffany stopped me and told me 3 years is long enough to know whether I want to marry her or not.”

Your eyes widened as your jaw dropped. “You’re kidding me.”

“I wish I was.”

“Well, what did you tell her?”

“I told her I couldn’t do this right now. I had to get to work. And if I was gonna ask her to marry me it was going to be on my terms. Not her forcing me into it.”

You know the question you had to ask, but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want the answer. Your heart hastened as you though over what he would say. “ Do you want to marry her?” you couldn’t hid the quiver in your voice.

“I don’t know.”

You pulled on the bill of your baseball cap trying to hide the tears building in your eyes. “Do you love her?”

“ I’ve stuck by her through everything. The lying, the cheating.”

“That’s not what I asked B.” You began to blink rapidly trying everything that wasn’t too obvious to dry out your eyes.

“Why would I do all that if I didn’t.” He stopped mid step. “I think I should just do it. We’ve been together this long. And I’ll probably be with her for the rest of my life anyhow.”

“Well that’s a hell of a reason.” The words came out before you could stop them.

“Look I know you’re not here biggest fan, but I do care for her. It’s going to be hard to keep a friend that is mean to my fiancée don’t ya think.”

You shot up out of the chair. The nervousness and pain you felt turned into a white-hot rage. “Are you fucking kidding me right now Beau?!” Your hands begin to shake. You can’t hold back the things you’ve been dying to say for so long. “She cheated on you for 2 months. Several times. It’s not like it was a one-time mistake. God, I swear you’re as dumb as a box of rocks! I have absolutely no idea why you would stay with her. And if you really wanna marry someone that takes the greatest person on the face of this earth for granted, then be my freakin guest.” He just looked at you with a dumbfounded look on your face. Tears started coming back and you didn’t bother trying to stop them. “Beau you are my best friend, and I love you, but I can not and will not sit here and watch you throw your life away and marry her.” He opened his mouth; you continued not giving him a chance to argue. “I really don’t want to be this person, and I hate that I am saying this. but I can’t be your friend if you do this.” You walked out the door, not giving him the chance to tell you he was going through with it anyway. You heard him yell after you, but you couldn’t stop. You just wanted to get away from everything.

Beau’s Pov.

He sighed as he got back into his Defender. He pulled his phone out to call (y/n) for the 17th time, straight to voicemail. “Son of a bitch.” He yell as he hit the steering wheel. He scrolled in his contracts and hit the green icon. “Cassie.”

“What’s up Beau?”

“Please tell me you’ve from (y/n)”

“I thought she was with you.”

“Are you at the office?”

“Yea? What the hell happened Beau?”

“Ill tell you when I get there.”

Denise and Cassie jumped as Beau charged through the door. “You guys really haven’t seen or talked to her?” He asked.

“No. Tell us what happened!” Cassie demanded.

“Well, I called her and told her I needed her help. I was given an ultimatum this morning.” Cassie raised her eyebrows. He went over the fight with them. “And then she stormed out.”

“Oh, Beau. I can’t believe you don’t see it” Denise realized what she had said and put her hands over her mouth.

“See what?” he asked

“Never mind. I’ll make some coffee.” Denise walked away.

“Her phone is going straight to voicemail. She’s not at the bar, not at her house. I tried the dinner, a couple parks I know she likes, I tried the gazebo by the lake, I have looked literally everywhere, Cassie, I can’t find her.” He was anxious and jittery. They have had some fights in the past. The one they got into was when he took tiffany back was especially bad, but she was always waiting at the bar for him with a beer and a shot.

“Just calm down. Give me a minute.” Cassie got up and walked to the kitchen. “What do you know Denise?”

“I shouldn’t had said anything.” She kept her back to Cassie. “It’s not my business.”

Cassie walked up to her and put her hand on Denise’s shoulder “Denise.”

“I thought it was pretty dang obvious, but I guess not. She’s in love with Beau. Has been since she’s known him. That’s why she never keeps a man around. She’s been hoping one day he would wake up and realize.”

Beau felt the air leave his lungs as he leaned on the kitchen doorframe. She was in love with him. This had to be a joke. What was so special about him? There’s no way someone like her could love him. “She’s in love with me?”

Cassie and Denise spun around. “Frick.” Denise said.

Cassie’s phone started to ring. “Hey (y/n).” His eyes shot to Cassie. She was nodding. “Alright. I understand. Take the day. I’ll see you in the morning, ok?” “If you need anything just call, ok?” ok.” Cassie hung up and walked to her desk. Beau followed. She started writing on a piece of paper.

“Are you going.”

“Go to the Strickland stables. Follow these directions.” She handed him the paper. “She’ll be there.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“Trust me.” she shook the paper at him.

Reader���s pov.

You inhaled deeply looking out at the view as you sat on the wooden fence. You turned your head as you heard the swishing of the grass on jeans. “Cassie told you where I’d be huh?”

“She wrote me out directions.” He leaned on the fence beside you. “She told me you used to come here with your brother.”

“Yeah, Cody would bring me up here back in the day, when life got too stressful. When we were kids, he told me to throw my problems at the mountains and they would throw solutions back.” You said with a chuckled. The cold wind made the tear drop’s trails sting your skin.

“They give you anything good today?”

“Not really.”

“Can I try?”

You chuckled. “Sure.” He hopped over the fence and stood in front of you. After a minute or two he turned back to you with a big smile on his face. You hopped down. “What did they say?”.

He took a couple steps. He was close. “They told me to stop being such a chicken and do this. He pulled you into him, his hands cupping your face as he leaned in, the anticipation crackling in the air. Then, with a swift, decisive movement, he dipped you backwards, your heels lifted off the ground, his lips meeting yours in a fervent collision, as your bodies pressed tightly together, the world around you faded away.

He brought you back up and rested his forehead against yours. “Well. That was. Some. Damn. Good advice.” You said between heavy pants. He chuckled and kissed you again. You smiled with wide eyes as a thought popped into your head.

“What?”

"I just realized that I have several more ways to persuade you now."

his head lifted as he let out a laugh.

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[zepskies]

Echoes

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: Beau has another rough night, but you help him face a harder truth. 

AN: Yep, that’s right! I’m back with another little drabble for the Take Me Home series, set a while after S.I.N.G. This time, we’re in for some angst and comfort.

Word Count: 950 words

Tags/Warnings: Angst, PTSD, implied survivor’s guilt, hurt/comfort, fluff

Catch up on TMH: ⤵️

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He heard it before he saw it.

That was the worst part of it really. He didn’t see it coming, even when he should have.

Randy hadn’t either.

Beau just saw the aftermath—a spray of scarlet that coated a stack of wooden crates carrying tens of thousands in cocaine. He saw the look of permanent shock frozen on Randy’s face as his body dropped to the concrete. It was a heavy sound. The sound of lifelessness.

The echoes of it rang in Beau’s ears, along with the single shot of a bullet tearing through his vest.

 Beau’s eyes opened on a sharp intake of breath.

They found darkness, and the familiar bedroom he shared with you. The only reason he could see it was because of the solitary window to his left, with slivers of moonlight filtering in between the blinds. He was lying on his back. His face, neck, arms, and bare chest were coated with a thin layer of sweat.

Turning his head to his right, he saw that you were still asleep. Your face was peaceful as you hugged your pillow. He was jealous.

Despite that, he resisted the urge to smooth a hand over your wild bedhead. He didn't want to chance waking you. Instead, he slowly got out of bed. He went into the bathroom to splash some cool water on his face. All the while, he ignored the shadows under his eyes, and the way his beard had gotten a bit scraggly. He’d trim in the morning.

He ventured into the living room and lit up the fireplace instead of turning any of the lights on. There he broke open the bottle of bourbon he kept above the fridge and grabbed a glass, and he sat in the middle of the couch, watching but not watching the fire.

His thoughts were like its flames, flickering from yellowed orange to sparking with red. Then back to yellow again.

Beau only perked up when he heard a floorboard creak. He saw you in the bedroom doorway, holding a fuzzy blanket around your shoulders. Your face was soft and concerned. He gave you a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes as you drew near.

You were warmer than him when you sat down and wrapped your blanket around his frame from behind. He clasped your arm against his chest, and you laid your head on his shoulder.

“The same dream?” you asked. Your voice was hardly above a whisper in the quiet; the fire crackling was almost louder.

Beau paused, but he nodded. His lips raised humorlessly.

“Told you I wasn’t gonna be easy to live with,” he said, though he held your hand. “‘M sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

You restrained a sigh and kissed his shoulder.

“Only a month in, but I think we’re doing well so far,” you said with a smile, even if it soon dipped. “You’ve been having nights like these even before you moved in.”

Again, he nodded and sipped at his glass.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he replied.

You shook your head. “It’s not your fault. But I’m going to say this again, because I love you. I really think you should try talking to someone.”

“Hey, I talk. Apparently I talk a bit too much, according to Jenny,” he managed to quip. He quirked a brow at you. “According to you too, I might add.”

You smiled in amusement, jostling him in your arms and disturbing the equilibrium of his bourbon.

“You know what I mean, Beau Arlen, and don’t pretend otherwise,” you warned him, but you paired it with a kiss to his scruffy cheek. “Therapy’s helped me a lot. I think it could do the same for you, with the right person… If you gave it a chance.”

Beau was quiet at that. Even though you understood his hesitation, it always hurt your heart to see him like this. You angled yourself toward him, so that he’d see your face and meet your eyes.

“You don’t have to do anything alone,” you said. They were words he’d told you too, more than once in the past year since you’d met him. “And I know I didn’t know Randy, but I doubt your friend would want you to suffer like this.”

Beau’s gaze fell away from yours then, drifting back to the fire. You brought him back by squeezing his free hand.

“Do you really think he’d want that for you?” you asked.

Beau couldn’t answer you in words; his throat was tight at the moment. His lips quirked, and he eventually nodded in understanding. He finished his glass before setting it down at the table. He could stop himself at the one for tonight, and that was a damn decent feat.

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to your forehead, a silent thanks and an acknowledgement all in one. Eventually, he was able to say it in words.

“Okay. I hear you,” he said.

You nodded with a sad smile. “Good.”

You curled yourself under his arm and sighed, resting at his side. Beau leaned you both back more comfortably on the couch. He allowed himself to let out a deep breath as well.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Mhmm,” you replied, even though your eyes were already closed. He knew then that you were halfway back to sleep. His lips tugged upward.

“I love you too, you know,” he added quietly.

“Mhmmmm,” you repeated, drawing it out more.

Beau’s smile became more genuine. Later he’d carry you back to bed, blanket and all. For now though, he made some small peace with his thoughts as he stared back into the fireplace.

This time, he actually felt its warmth.

AN: There we go, short and bittersweet. ❤️

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 1

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, fluff, angst, hints to a slight drinking problem, mentions of murder, serial killers, divorce & death, set after & before the events of season 3

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: Welcome to another series, loves! I'm so excited to share this one! 🤍 You may read the Dirty Drabble that inspired it first, but there's references to the events of it throughout. Enjoy, babes! 😉

Huge special thanks to @blackcherrywhiskey, @deans-spinster-witch, @roseblue373 & @ladysparkles78 💚 for kicking my ass to write a whole series from that little one shot. I know y'all wanted me to bring the smut, and while I certainly did that, I couldn't resist bringing the angst. And well, once that angsty stone started to roll, it couldn't be stopped and downhill it all went... 😝 I usually do slow burns, so starting off hot and going in reverse for once was such a fun change!

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Chapter 1: Caught Up In A Moment

September 2023

One. Two. Three.

At the third knock, your bare feet sprinted to the motel room door from the bathroom, a towel still in hand as you dried your damp hair.

“Coming!” you called out and twisted the knob, opening the door with a keen smile.

Beau stood in front of you in all his glory – washed jeans Sherpa jacket, a button-up in your favorite color, and some tight denim clad his muscular bow legs. That man always effortlessly took your breath away when he really shouldn’t.

A cocked brow graced his features as he eyed you from head to toe, a smile twitching on his plump, kissable lips underneath the scruffy beard. “You open the door always like this, darlin’?”

The familiar drawl made your knees weak. Back home, the accent was nothing special, but his deep timbre of a voice that made your bones tremble surely was. The combination of the two was heaven-sent and hell-bent.

“I just got out of the shower.” You shrugged innocently, your golden halo swinging with your sinful hips.

As you rubbed the rest of your hair dry, your black silk robe swayed with the movement of your legs before you leisurely discarded the used towel on your bed and waited for the handsome sheriff to follow you inside.

“Brought you something,” Beau said and wiggled a thick folder over his head as he walked in, closing the door behind him with a kick of his boot. He ceremoniously slapped the file on the small desk in your room.

Your lips curved into a sly grin. “Oh? Almost feels like my birthday, Mr. President.”

Beau let out a hearty laugh, showing off the endearing crinkles around his shimmering green eyes. “I think you’ve got something confused there, darlin’. It was Kennedy’s birthday.”

“Huh, so I’m the president and you’re my Marilyn?” you teased.

“Oh, I’ll happily be your Marilyn,” he said with a cheeky smile.

As your fingers eagerly leafed through the file, you could feel Beau’s breath fanning against your neck as he came to stand behind you, shiny leather boots plodding on sordid motel carpet. The hair on your skin saluted him as goosebumps rose.

You could smell his cologne as it tingled your nose, bergamot and cedar mixed with a hint of vanilla flooding your senses and washing a sea of memories into your mind. Memories you wished were lost and never found.

Postponing the deep dive to tomorrow, your eyes only skimmed over the contents of the folder. But just as you suspected, the victimology and modus operandi were all too familiar. You’d seen this before, and it wasn’t good.

You’d be here for a while.

“And?” Beau’s voice broke you from your thoughts before you felt his fingertips softly brushing the flesh on your hips. An electric shudder ran down your spine at his touch, your mind on the fritz.

“Definitely my jurisdiction,” you replied and closed the file.

Moaning with pleasure, you felt his lips on your neck, kissing a pathway down to your shoulder. One of your hands wandered up and tangled in his thick, luscious locks, grabbed and tugged until he groaned against the shell of your ear. You still managed to blab about the case with strained concentration.

“There’s been similar cases in, uhm… Texas… Utah… Colorado… Wyoming… and now here.”

“Hmm,” Beau hummed, not letting himself be disturbed. The vibrations of his voice thrummed against the column of your throat.

Your cunt clenched; you could feel the rising wetness between your legs and the growing bulge against your ass.

A large hand brushed stealthily across your stomach and snaked past the silk fabric to grab a generous breast, squeezing the tender flesh and tweaking the nipple between his thumb and a finger. His hardening cock pressed at the crack between your buttcheeks, your arousal dripping down your thighs.

A second palm wandered to your front but was bound southward this time. His digits pried apart your folds, two of them running through your slick with a growl in your ear before slipping inside your pussy. A whimper left your lips as you braced your palms on the surface in front of you for support, your legs threatening to buckle under the pressure.

But Beau wasn’t going to let you fall, his grip like a vice around you as he held you flush against his chest, hot breath tickling your earlobe and beard burning your cheek. You moaned his name with a few expletives as he thrust his fingers in and out of your soaked channel.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn wet. Want you to come for me,” he husked into your ear and pushed his erection even more against your ass. Your pussy clenched around him. “Yeah, that’s it. Squeeze those fingers like you’ll squeeze my cock… It’s been too fucking long. Wanna finally fill you, darlin’.”

“God, yes,” you whined in agreement as the coil in your belly tightened with each plunge into your heat.

He curled his knuckles and expertly thumbed your clit, making you cry out. His strokes became harder, your breathing grew labored. Your body quaked with each thrust, cunt throbbing around his fingers.

“Fuck,” you moaned as the heel of his palm rubbed your clit, igniting the fuse to the fireworks in your belly. Your explosion could be seen in the sky from miles away without binoculars.

“I gotcha,” Beau whispered as a strong arm wrapped around your ribcage, your pussy pulsing with his fingers deep inside you. Brushing your damp hair to one side of your neck, his teeth sunk into your shoulder as you steadied in his embrace.

“You’d think as the sheriff, you’d care a little more that a serial killer is running around and murdering citizens of your county,” you teased breathlessly.

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Beau said simply, removing his wet fingers from your drenched cunt.

You lifted an eyebrow at him and bit down on your lower lip. “No?”

“Nope, not since you’re here,” Beau quipped and kissed your shoulder blade. “I know you won’t rest till you got that bastard all nicely cuffed up.”

You huffed a laugh. “Wow, you’ve got a lot of confidence in me, huh?”

“You betcha. Got nothin’ to do with confidence, either. I just know you, darlin’,” Beau stated with a cocksure grin and palmed one cheek of your ass as he rutted against you.

“Beau, fuck… I still have to lock the folder into the safe,” you managed to say, your mind in a haze of desire as your pussy whined in starving anticipation.

“C’mon, who’s gonna steal it, huh?” he muttered against your skin. “Would be a damn fool to break into a room with a sheriff and a federal agent.”

“You can never be too careful,” you argued lightly.

“Says the woman who can’t lock a damn door,” Beau sassed with a chuckle and threw you a raised look as he spun you in his embrace.

You laughed, your cheeks blushing when you were reminded of your little unfortunate adventure at lunch. Your arms draped around his neck as his hands wandered to your lower back, the two of you gently swaying from side to side.

“I’m sorry, okay? I told you. I thought it was locked.”

“Uh-huh.” Beau chuckled, shaking his head. “You’d think with all those criminals running around, you’d know better.”

“Look, the Academy doesn’t technically teach us how to lock doors, just how to kick ‘em in, alright?” you retorted. He pecked the tip of your nose, flashing you a grin. “Is your deputy, okay? I felt bad. He looked traumatized. You know, he couldn’t look me in the eye when I left.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Beau laughed and rubbed his bearded chin before his palm moved back to its original place on the small of your back. “As soon as his shift was over, he bolted straight outta there. But Papa Smurf will be fine. Don’t worry about it,” he assured you with a warm smile that could melt several hearts. It sure did yours. “You do know, though, I’ll get teased for this, right?”

“I know.” You laughed and buried your face in his chest upon Beau’s playful glare. He pursed his lips as his cheeks flushed with color before placing a kiss on your crown. “I’m sorry. Maybe no one knows?”

“Y/N, this ain’t Houston. This is a small town. Everyone knows by now,” Beau reminded you with a small laugh.

Guiltily, you looked up at him and bit your lower lip, one corner of your mouth tugging upwards into a smirk. “I’ll make it up to you?”

“Oh?”

On tiptoes, you then nuzzled your nose against his, hands traveling from his neck to his cheeks as you tenderly caressed his beard and felt his breathing quicken. Your gazes locked. You got lost in pine green.

His fingers played with a wet strand of your hair, a smile fluttering on his mouth as he tucked it back behind your ear. His palm wandered to the back of your head and pulled you to his lips. The first kiss was tender and hesitant, like a kid testing the temperature of the ocean with its big toe before fully diving inside and getting carried away by the waves.

The kiss grew needier and rougher as he pushed you back until you hit the edge of the small desk in your room. Effortlessly, strong arms lifted you on the surface, your bare buttcheeks feeling the worn wood underneath. It was too easy for you two to fall back into an old rhythm.

“This is very handy, by the way,” Beau said with a smirk as his fingers opened the loosely tied bow of your robe and revealed your naked body underneath.

“Thought you’d appreciate it,” you purred as he slid the silky material off your shoulders, letting it billow around your waist.

“Oh, I do, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice loaded with lust, nibbling along your jaw. His mouth wandered down to your throat, sucking the skin purple and blue before he claimed your first breast, his tongue rolling over your nipple until it peaked.

“Fuck, baby,” you whimpered breathily, your head lolling back as he worshipped your body, running a river of kisses from your collarbone to the end of your ribcage. “Need you inside me, please.”

It had been so long, you had almost forgotten how good he was at making you come undone. Or better said, you had tried to forget it on purpose.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” Beau growled huskily in your ear.

Cupping his cheeks, you needily brought him back to your lips, your breathing ragged between a dance of tongues. His kisses were addictive; one taste and you were hooked. Consumption became an obsession.

Your hands climbed down his body, unbuckled belt and unzipped jeans, palming his massively hard cock that only grew even larger in your hand. Everything was indeed bigger in fucking Texas.

While you popped every button of his maroon shirt, he slipped out of his jacket and boxers, his erection springing against his stomach. It was perfectly wide and long, dangerously able to stretch you to your fullest. Your mouth watered, the taste of him still fresh in your mind.

His shirt joined the graveyard of clothes on the floor as your legs wrapped around his waist. He positioned his head at your waiting entrance, catching your gaze as he pushed inside, sheathing his cock fully in your soaking channel.

“Fuck, I missed this,” he groaned and rested his head on your shoulder as he momentarily stilled when he was at your deepest. He inhaled your scent and memorized every note like a love song. His lips bit and soothed your skin in a vicious cycle. There was no escaping him.

His harmless words caused a sting in your chest, however, cutting deeper than any knife could. You tried to ignore the dulled pain, reminding you of your oath to keep it casual this time. Your heart couldn’t get dragged back into his mess. Once was enough for a lifetime.

Beau had a punch list. You had a forget-about-him list.

A part of you doubted your decision to come here. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe no amount of time would ever be enough.

Beau grabbed you tightly and carried you to the bed, your legs still wrapped around him, still connected with him inside of you. Your back touched the light sheets underneath you as his weight heavily laid on top of you, pressing him further into you until you felt him at the spot you loved so much.

“Oh, fuck,” you mewled as he moved your thigh over his shoulder and thrust even deeper inside of you, filling you to the brim. It felt like he had remembered every move, everything you’d ever loved.

His hips then began to snap faster. Harder. He bottomed out each and every time. You felt him everywhere, your nerve endings catching fire as the flames inside you rose, climbed and burned down walls.

Beau could feel you were close, and he was right there with you. His hand snaked between your sweat-clad bodies and found your sensitive spot once more, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit till he pushed you over the cliff and you lost sight of the shore.

Ocean. Waves… Your boat capsized and got lost in them.

His lips sought out yours. His kiss was deep and passionate and lasting as his hips stilled, spilling his release inside of you with a guttural grunt. Your muscles trembled, your pussy tight and throbbing around his cock, and yet, still craving more. He was the worst drug you’d ever known.

As he slipped out of you and rolled next to you, both of you were panting heavily on the mattress. You stared at the water-stained ceiling above you, your skin glistening and sticky.

Chuckling, Beau ran a hand through his hair and whistled lowly. “Man… this was… wow,” he said and opened his arm, inviting you into his embrace.

“Yeah,” you breathed in agreement, your cheeks flushed as a blissful smile haunted your features. As your head rested safely on his chest, you listened to his heartbeat, steady and reliant, and concentrated on his tender and calm caresses on your arm.

“You know, I really did miss this,” he told you and placed another affectionate kiss on top of your head.

“Me too,” you admitted quietly and felt your heart crack a little more.

“You know, this kinda reminds me of that night in that shabby motel in Mexico,” Beau reminisced with a soft laugh. “Not Juárez but, uhm… Culiacán! Minus the food poisoning.”

“Sure as hell taught me to never eat tacos from some shady street truck again, no matter how hungry a stake-out makes me,” you agreed, chortling.

“Yeah, pretty damn sure that wasn’t beef,” Beau added. “Tasted like armadillo.”

Amused, you lifted a brow. “How do you know what armadillo tastes like?”

“Trust me, you don’t wanna know,” he replied and shuddered in disgust to drive the point home.

Laughing came easy with Beau. During stormy times, his heart was your lighthouse, burning in the distance. But then, it suddenly wasn’t one day, swallowed by fog and leaving you surrounded by darkness. Walking down memory lane also reminded you of that – the times when your tears could fill an ocean.

Moving out of his arms, you left the familiar and irresistible warmth and grabbed one of your navy FBI shirts from your duffel bag, pulling it over your head. Soon you found a pair of gray sweatpants as well. With each clothing item, you added another layer over your heart.

Beau watched you get dressed in silence, feeling you pull back from him. His heart twinged with anguish; his soul throbbed with longing. It was rare that he was at a loss for words, but you had a habit of leaving him speechless.

Softly, he cleared his throat to catch your attention and get you out of your head. “I meant what I said today, you know? I want you to stay, Y/N. Even when this case is over. I was serious about that.”

“I know.” You nodded, an amused snort involuntarily escaping your throat. “Just hard to believe, I guess… especially with Carla being available again.”

You bit your tongue and closed your eyes as the words slipped out of your mouth. You didn’t mean to, but it did.

“Y/N–”

You quickly turned around and faced him, doing your best at damage control. “Beau, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Beau said and shook his head.

He grabbed his clothes from the floor, feeling his time with you quickly coming to an end. He wanted to at least be dressed in case he had to chase after you. He figured one naked public outing per day was enough for Helena’s sheriff.

“Look, let’s just talk about it. Get it all out in the open, alright?”

“Beau, really, I get it. You don’t have to explain,” you replied in an attempt to brush him off.

“Yes, I do,” Beau insisted as he slid back into his jeans and buttoned his shirt, his gaze drilling into yours and pleading with you. Rising from the bed, he stalked closer to you. “A lot’s changed since the last time we saw each other. I told you. I moved here to be closer to Em.”

You rolled your eyes back and scoffed. Carding a hand through your hair, you spun on your heel in disbelief. You had to take a moment before looking at him again. “Are you kidding me right now?”

Beau sighed and conceded, hands held high in defense in case you fired another shot. “Alright, I hear ya. Maybe that wasn’t entirely true… initially. But it certainly is now, alright? It’s more complicated than you think. It just-… There’s so much I need to tell you… Carla and I… that’s over. Resolved, okay? Trust me. You don’t need to be worried.”

“I’m not worried!” you lied. Badly, might you add, but you didn’t care if he believed you or not. You let out a deep sigh and tried a calmer approach. “Look, uhm, maybe this was a bad idea. We shouldn’t have–… We-, we got caught up in a moment. I mean, that’s our thing, right? It doesn’t mean anything. Let’s just concentrate on the case and then go our separate ways again, alright?”

“Don’t do this, Y/N. Don’t push me to the sidelines,” Beau contended firmly. “It does mean something. It never didn’t. You know that.”

“Do I? I didn’t push you anywhere, Beau. You’re the one who left,” you snapped and unapologetically shrugged your shoulders once the words escaped. You held back the tears that brimmed in your eyes. The afterglow evaporated. Soberly, you walked to the door and nodded towards the exit. “I think you should go… After all, it’s what you do best.”

Beau smacked his lips, his brow creasing as he averted his green eyes and thoughtfully glanced out the window, his hands resting on his squared-off hips. You knew it was a low blow, but you couldn’t stop yourself, either. It was the truth, and sometimes it hurt to hear it.

Nodding, he scratched his beard. “Alright, I’ll go, but we’re not done,” he said resolutely. Internally, you sighed. You forgot they grew quite stubborn in Texas, too. “Look, I know I’ve made mistakes. I screwed up a lot… especially with you. But I’m not giving up… He wouldn’t want me to.”

With that, he walked out the door. As it closed behind him, you exhaled a deep and long breath. Looking out the window, your eyes drifted from the parking lot and gazed up at the famous big sky above you.

You found yourself fascinated by the twinkling spots of light in the midnight blue. Pensively, you glanced down at your hand and twisted the golden band on your ring finger. Your eyes then found one of the brightest stars in the dark night sky, Polaris, hoping it would guide your sinking ship back home.

September 2021

“This is the most boring stake-out ever,” you complained and blew a raspberry in frustration, leaning back against the metal hood of the car as the Milky Way shone brightly above you and the cicadas chirped their song in the distance.

You had parked the SUV on top of a plateau in the middle of the Chihuahuan desert somewhere in Mexico, overlooking a cartel hideout, but far enough away to not be spotted.

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re coming tonight. We better check that intel again tomorrow,” Beau said with a sigh and took off his cowboy hat, laying it on the hood behind him.

“I’ll talk to my CI again,” you replied and sighed as well, your eyes feeling more tired than they’d ever been. It had been a long few months and sleeping wasn’t exactly high on your priority list.

Beau nodded and ran a hand through his hair, scratching his head in impatient irritability. He then pulled out a silver flask from the inner pocket of his Sherpa jacket and took a big swig.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “We’re still on the job, you know?”

He stared straight ahead, not daring to look at you as the crescent moon hung high above him. “Yeah, so?”

“Nothin’.” You shrugged, not wanting to start a fight or upset him. “Just noticed you’ve been doing that a lot lately. Since the funeral… It’s not like you.”

“Yeah, well, things change,” he said bitterly and took another sip.

“I worry about you,” you confessed quietly, the concern shimmering in your eyes.

At that, he finally turned his head and caught your gaze. “Don’t. You’ve got enough to worry about. You don’t need me on your list.”

“Well, it’s too late for that,” you said and sent him a small smile. “In fact, all I do is worry about you. You’re the only thing on the list, actually.”

“Hmm… I guess it’s nice to know that at least someone cares,” he muttered and drank again.

“Oh, don’t gimme that! Stop with the sulking and the feeling sorry for yourself,” you chided and sat up straight, getting a better look at him as you leaned your arms on your knees. “Did you talk to her since… you know?”

He threw you a sideways glance, lifting a brow. “Since we signed the divorce papers? Nope,” he replied and popped the p, taking another swig.

“Maybe it’s not too late. Just talk to her,” you repeated words you’d said a thousand times by now. “That’s all she wants, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Beau nodded quietly, a thick swallow stuck in his throat as he stared at the desolate landscape ahead.

“You talk to me about it. I’m sure Carla would understand,” you added.

“I talk to you ‘cause I got no choice. You deserved to know how I fucked up. ‘Sides, you were already knee-deep in this shit. No stoppin’ ya,” Beau said. His eyes found yours briefly before he averted his gaze again.

“I prefer shoulder-deep,” you joked lightheartedly. Then, the familiar heaviness returned, weighing down your chest, your heart aching. “Feels like quicksand around my throat.”

“Yeah,” Beau agreed quietly, tongue swiping across his lips. “That’s why I don’t want her anywhere near this. With Carla… I have a choice.”

“She’s a defense attorney. She’s seen some shit, you know?” you pointed out. “I mean, is it really worth losing your family over?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Beau said stoically. He then let out a humorless laugh that you couldn’t place before putting the flask to his lips again.

“Okay, enough. Gimme that,” you snapped and grabbed the silver container from him, swallowing down a big gulp. You grimaced in disgust, everything in your body shuddering at the awful taste. “Dear fucking Lord! What the hell is that?”

In response, he snorted and gave you a passive twitch of his shoulders. “Little bit of everything I could find in the motel minibar.”

“Ew! You’re pathetic,” you retorted with a crinkle of your nose and meant it partially as a joke. You had always bantered like this, but this time, he took you by your word.

“Yeah, that’s what Carla said, too,” he belittled himself.

“Okay, stop with the pity party. I can’t take any more of this sad face you’ve got going on there,” you remarked with a huff. It broke your own heart to see his shattered like this. You missed his sunny laugh and the endless bad jokes and the nonstop chatter. He’d always been a good man, despite this newfound darkness of his, and deserved better.

“Well, get used to it. It ain’t going anywhere,” Beau replied, much to your dismay.

“Fine,” you relented and let out a sigh.

Silence fell between you two, only filled by the cicadas and the coyotes roaming about. Thoughtfully, you stared up at the beautiful night sky and spied a shooting star, feeling almost silly for daring to make a wish.

“Randy always said you should fight for the things that are worth fighting for,” Beau’s voice finally broke the silence. “Never give up.”

You peeled your eyes away from the stars above and looked at him. You chuckled softly at the memory. “Yeah, that sounds like him. He was annoyingly persistent like that.”

“I just don’t know if it’s worth it, I guess,” he said quietly.

“Of course it is,” you insisted. “You love Emily and Carla. They’re your family.”

“I’ve let them down… I’ve let a lotta people down, actually,” Beau said, and you could feel his eyes on you from your periphery.

“It’s been a tough year,” you said sympathetically.

“It has,” he agreed soberly and turned his gaze to the night sky above you. “You know what star this is?”

“The North Star, right?” you guessed, following his gaze to the Little Dipper constellation.

“Yeah, Polaris. It’s fixed in the sky while everything else moves ‘round it. It’s supposed to help you find your way when you’re lost,” he explained. “True north.”

“You’ll find your way again,” you told him confidently and nudged his shoulder, giving him a small but encouraging smile. “No one’s blaming you for what happened, Beau, so give yourself some grace, okay?”

He nodded, swallowing harshly as he met your gaze. “Thank you.”

Confused, you furrowed your brow. “For what?”

“Not leaving when you should’ve…”

You smiled softly. “We’re friends… and trauma bonded. I’d never do that to you.”

Beau matched your smile, but you could see the tears stinging in the corners of his forest-green eyes as the sadness overwhelmed him. “Shit,” he cursed, burying his face in his palms. He sniffed.

Concerned, your brows drew together. You laid your hand on his shoulder and gingerly stroked his back. “Beau, what’s going on?”

“I can’t…” He struggled for words, shook his head. Whatever was on his mind, he refused to voice it. His lower lip quivered before he covered his mouth with his palm, running a hand over his beard. Then, a sad smile grazed his face. “You know, I always thought Randy was the luckiest bastard alive.”

“Why?”

Beau didn’t respond. Instead, he closed the distance between you until his lips crashed against yours. You were shocked for a moment, froze down to your core. But then your hands found his cheeks and reflexively pulled him closer, a magnet you had no power over.

His hands did much the same, needily roaming your body and holding you flush against his own. His tongue hungrily slipped inside and devoured yours, tasting like the contents of the flask. Tequila, whiskey, and vodka were only a few you could decipher, but now the aftertaste was heaven instead of hell.

The kiss lasted till your head spun, a lack of oxygen forcing him to withdraw. It could’ve been chalked up to a drunken misstep, a glitch in the fabric of the universe that could’ve been swallowed by a black hole just as suddenly as it happened. But for you, it was enough to turn your whole world upside down and toss your planet out of orbit.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered, his breath ghosting against your lips. The further he retreated, the more you could see the battle raging in his mind. “Fuck,” he cursed and clasped his mouth with his palm.

He jumped off the hood and walked a few suicidal-crazed steps towards the cliff, his back standing like a tall wall between you. You watched his shoulders tense as his gaze drifted upwards to the sky. It seemed like he was praying.

Your fingers touched your kiss-swollen lips, hot and yearning for more. There was a tug on your heart, a rope lassoed around the muscle that pulled you to him.

“Beau?”

Your call of his name forced him to face you. An apologetic and torn look pervaded his features as he fought a combat in his mind and wrung with the feelings in his heart.

“It’s okay,” you said gently.

He met your eyes, a shimmer of hope in his as a glimpse of a smile twitched on his lips. Something you hadn’t seen in well over a year. It was so delicate, you weren’t sure it wasn’t a malfunction. A damn counterfeit.

“How?” His question hung from the moon with despair.

“I don’t know.”

He stared at you for a moment, the hesitation behind his eyes still prominent. You felt the magnetic pull again, and you could tell that he felt it, too.

And then, with a few strides, he was in front of you, hands in your hair as he claimed your lips in a scorching kiss that set your entire world on fire. You sunk into him, forever lost in a cosmos of green, sucked in by his gravity, air gone from your lungs, and feet never touching ground again.

Beau sat in his car in the quiet parking lot of the motel, his gaze wandering up to the night sky above as he thoughtfully rubbed his chin. His other hand rested on the steering wheel, fingers tapping.

The same old war waged in his mind. Guilt filled his heart and bubbled to the surface. He debated whether he should turn the ignition or knock on your door. He always felt torn, unsure if you were a mistake or the best damn thing of his life.

His green eyes then fixed on the North Star, praying it would show him the way to your heart once more. This time, he swore to whoever was listening that he wouldn’t lose it. He’d keep it safe.

‘Cause the first time he kissed you, it surely changed everything for him.

Chapter 2: No Signs, No Compasses – MAY 8

If you've caught my not-so-subtle hints throughout this, you can already smell the drama and angst this series has in store for you 😂

Any ideas who Y/N is yet? Let me know in the comments 😏🤍

Hope you enjoyed this smangsty introduction!

Join the TAG LIST here! 🌌 Wanna sponsor my caffeine addiction? ☕️

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

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

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

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

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy

Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

[deansbite]

⠀ ℐ ⠀ beau ⠀arlen ⠀𓏲

⠀hey there !! this is a masterlist of a specific ⠀character, in this case, beau arlen. my fanfics ⠀will have authours notes & warnings as to what ⠀will be in the fics ! i am not responsible for what ⠀any of you decide to read. anywho, if you like my ⠀writing, i’d appreciate feedback or even a ⠀reblog. happiest of reading to you guys !!

🎸 „ fluff  📻 „ smut  🎙�� „ angst

stories are on their way . .

[hosseinis]

-beau taplin, hunting season

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Christmas Fics

Thought I'd reblog out all my Christmas Fics here for easy access. If I write anymore this year, I'll link them here too. 😊

Christmas in the Bunker Series (5 Pts)

Dean x Reader

Flash Fic Christmas Snippets (7 flash fics)

Dean x Reader, Jensen x Reader, Beau x Reader, Soldier Boy x Reader

Lend a Helping Hand

Dean x Reader

The Christmas Present

Jensen x Reader

Regrets I've Had a Few

Soldier Boy x Meredith (OFC)

Favorite Gifts

Dean x Reader

[pink-sparkly-witch]

Taken for Granted, Part One

Summary: Having had his share of dangerous situations and close calls in Houston, this was meant to be the start of a quieter, slower life for Beau, Y/N and their daughter. Taking the job as Acting Sheriff in Helena, Montana, was a dream come true until Beau starts to spend far too much time with Jenny Hoyt, in and out of the office. At first, Y/N doesn’t mind too much, but one night Beau misses his daughter’s hockey tryouts and phone calls in favour of shooting tequila in a bar with his co-worker, and Y/N isn’t sure if she’s being taken for granted or if something bigger is going on that she needs to worry about.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Female Reader

Warnings: Meet cute, flirting, angst, mentions of injuries, arguments, language, accusations of cheating.

Bingo Square: Free Space for @j3bingo

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is my first submission on my @j3bingo card. It was beat’d by the lovely @writethelifeyouwant and is my first Beau fic! I hope you enjoy! 💖

My Masterlist     AO3    Ko-Fi

Being married to a police officer wasn’t easy, and Y/N knew that. She’d lost count of the number of promises she’d made throughout her younger years that she would never fall for a cop, and so in true Y/N fashion she did, in fact, fall for a cop.

She was from a police family; her grandpa, dad, and brothers had all felt the calling, and she knew they were disappointed that she didn’t follow the same path. It was like she wasn’t ‘one of them’ because she didn’t wear a badge and carry a gun, and their relationship became tense and strained.

Then she met Beau Arlen.

Finally, her family saw her differently. She became the hero because it was the stronger person that sent their loved one off with a goodbye kiss every morning, not knowing if they’d come home.

“So, uh… I’d really like to see you again. Take you on a date,” Officer Arlen had said after questioning her about the brawl that broke out in the bar where her friend’s bachelorette party was in full swing.

“Have they changed the rules about cops dating witnesses, Officer Arlen?” Y/N smirked.

“You’ve corroborated what fifty other people in this bar saw, but you didn’t see enough to be an official witness,” Beau explained.

“I don’t do cops,” she replied, trying to sound uninterested and not fall for his boyish charm and infuriatingly handsome face.

“I’m not asking you to “do” me, Miss Y/L/N, I’m asking you to go on a date with me,” the officer smirked, and she rolled her eyes.

“I don’t date cops,” Y/N changed her wording, trying to make him give up and leave her alone.

“Why, you got a problem with authority or something?” Beau was grinning. She knew he was flirting with her, and although he was cute and she was tempted, Y/N knew the second he found out the truth about her, he would run for the hills.

“You have no idea who I am, do you, Officer Arlen?” Y/N said, chuckling when he looked like he was searching through a Rolodex in his brain.

“Well, ma’am, I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I’d hooked up with a woman as beautiful as you. In fact, if we’d hooked up, I would never have let you go, so it’s not that.” Beau was teasing and she knew it. She’d have already gone home with him if he had any other career.

“You really have no idea who I am?” Y/N asked again, more seriously this time.

“Should I?” he replied, his tone matching her seriousness for the first time since he’d questioned her about the fight.

“Huh… I’m surprised my face isn’t ingrained in y’alls memories at training,” she mused. “My father is Joe Y/L/N, Chief of Police.” Now if that didn’t get this guy to back off, nothing would, Y/N thought.

“Is that meant to scare me away, or…?” Beau let his question hang in the air, and she had to admit, his complete indifference to who her father was–who her family were–only made him more appealing to her.

“When most guys find out who my father is and that I have three brothers on the force, they usually run a mile in the other direction.”

“I’m not most guys, darlin’.” Beau’s charming smile was obnoxious. And intoxicating. And stunning. “So, how about that date?”

Already on her way to falling for him, Y/N agreed to a date, and they’d been together ever since. They got married two years later, just before he was made detective, and she’d been by his side every step he climbed in the ranks of Houston P.D. Three years into their marriage, Y/N gave birth to their daughter, Maisie.

Growing up as she had, Y/N was well aware of the risks being a cop came with, but Beau took it to a completely new level. He was always going against protocol, putting himself in dangerous situations and taking unnecessary risks.

The worst incident had been when he ran after two armed robbers without waiting for backup. He caught one of them, but just as he handcuffed him and read him his rights, the other thief turned and fired. He’d been incredibly lucky that the bullet only hit his clavicle. If it had landed an inch to the left, it would’ve got his carotid artery and killed him.

Six months back on the job he did the exact same thing: chased down two armed drug dealers without any backup. Both perps opened fire this time, and it was a miracle he hadn’t been shot again.

They’d had the worst argument of their entire relationship after that, leading to Y/N not speaking to him for days. She felt it was more than justified because he’d been seriously wounded less than a year before and gone through several surgeries and weeks of physiotherapy. Not to mention Maisie was only four years old and Y/N really didn’t want to tell their daughter that her daddy wasn’t coming home.

Two weeks later and still in the midst of a silent standoff, Beau had tried to tell her that a dangerous operation to take down the biggest drug kingpin in Houston was going down that day. Y/N remained silent as she packed Maisie’s lunch for kindergarten and at his insistence that they talk about things, she’d responded pettily as she lifted Maisie out of Beau’s arms and made to leave for the day.

“I’d say be careful, but you and I both know you don’t know the meaning of the word,” Y/N spat at him.

“Darlin’, please,” Beau had sighed, defeated but knowing he kinda deserved it. Even he knew he’d been stupid chasing after armed suspects without waiting for backup. Twice.

“At least this time, try to remember you have a daughter and a wife at home and to not get yourself nearly killed.”

Beau didn’t make it to the precinct that morning. A dirty cop on the task force had told the cartel boss what was going down, and Beau had been attacked and kidnapped from a gas station as he’d filled the car on his way to work. He’d been held hostage, tortured, and beaten for four days.

When they finally found him, he’d been at death’s door. Lucky to be alive, all of the doctors had said. The first time they let Y/N in to see him after they’d run their tests and stitched him up, the sight of her husband’s broken and beaten body almost killed her.

Watching her sob at his bedside, Beau had tried to calm her down, but the guilt she had over their fight, over what her last words to him were, and the fear that she’d almost lost him—again—was too strong. She couldn’t even hug him for fear that she’d hurt him more.

All night she’d sat by his bedside, watching him sleep, thankful for everything she still had and grateful he’d fought so hard to stay alive for her and Maisie.

The next morning, they’d agreed to never go to bed, or leave the house angry at each other, again. It’d been too much of a close call, and they both knew they’d never forgive themselves if the worst had happened and they hadn’t been speaking.

After his first dose of morphine for the day, when Beau no longer felt like he’d been hit by a bus, he encouraged Y/N to curl up with him on the uncomfortable hospital bed, giving both of them the comfort and affection they’d missed for the past few weeks.

That promise to never go to work or bed angry at each other lasted for eleven years. Yes, they argued and had disagreements, and more than once they’d gone to bed or about their days hurling a rather aggressive “I love you” at the other, but they’d never left the other in any doubt that they still loved and cared for the other.

Until now.

This was the sixth night in a row Y/N had gone to bed alone, and just as many days she’d woken up that way too. Beau had told her that moving to Montana would make it better, that he wouldn’t work as long hours or have as many dangerous encounters as he’d had in Houston.  At first, he had been right.

The first few months in Helena had been great. Beau was home in time for dinner every night, and they had breakfast as a family every morning. He didn’t even have a close call once a week, never mind several times a day. By all accounts, in those first couple of months, being Acting Sheriff in Helena, Montana, had been everything Beau and Y/N had hoped for.

Then he started working longer hours and responding to calls a sheriff should be sending his deputies to. Not to mention Beau would attend those calls with an officer who wasn’t even his partner. An officer he was currently in a bar with; drinking tequila, singing karaoke, and posing for pictures with, according to her social media. And so, once again, Y/N had gone to bed alone.

The sound of the shower running roused Y/N from sleep, and she glanced at the alarm clock. Frowning at the late hour, she turned on her back and set her gaze on the ceiling as she waited for the water to shut off.

It felt like an hour, but she knew it was only a few minutes later that Beau emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his damp hair with a towel.

“It’s a little late for a shower,” Y/N stated, making Beau jump, clearly startled she was awake.

“Jesus, darlin’, you scared the crap outta me!” Beau chuckled. “Did I wake you?”

“You were having a shower at three in the morning, Beau, of course you woke me.” Y/N’s voice was filled with irritation that she knew he’d be able to pick up on.

“I’m sorry, baby. It was a later night than I planned. Thought I’d save some time by showering now instead of the morning.” Beau carelessly threw his damp towel onto the bathroom floor and walked towards the bed, completely naked and standing at half-mast.

Normally, the sight of him naked and hard would have her salivating and pouncing on him the second he lay down, but not tonight. Tonight, she couldn’t help but visualise Jenny on her knees sucking him off. She didn’t know where the unwelcome image came from, she knew he wouldn’t cheat on her… or at least she used to know that. 

Logically, Y/N also knew that the fact he was hardening with every step he took meant that that kind of activity hadn’t been happening while he was out, but she was hurt and confused and still half asleep. And men did not drink tequila in bars with other women all night and then come home at three o’clock in the morning and jump straight into the shower if they’d been faithful now, did they?

“I’m surprised you’re walking in a straight line. It looked like quite the party you and Jenny were having to yourselves.” The irritation in Y/N’s tone had increased tenfold since she last spoke.

“It wasn’t that kinda night, what with Jenny’s mom being in the wind again.” Beau frowned, and the fact that he was playing the night down hurt even more and made her exhausted with the whole situation.

“Huh,” Y/N huffed. “Social media really must be all smoke and mirrors after all because she didn’t look too beat up about it in the photos. In fact, it looked like you two were having a great time shooting tequila and singing karaoke, looking all cosy together,” she spat and turned her back on him.

“Y/N,” Beau sighed.

“I need to get some sleep. I promised Maisie I’d get her to school early tomorrow so she can pick up her uniform before her first practice with the senior hockey team.”

“Maisie made the team?” The pride in her husband’s voice made her smile for the briefest of seconds until she remembered she and their daughter were mad at him right now.

“Yes, which you’d have known if you’d come to the game tonight instead of going out drinking, or if you’d picked up any one of your daughter’s eight calls. You know, she was really upset that she couldn’t get a hold of you, Beau.”

“Great,” he said as he slid a large, warm palm over her waist, and she shivered at his touch. “I’ve upset both my girls.”

“All for Jenny and some tequila. I hope she was worth it, Beau, because I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”

“Y/N, come on,” he pleaded, “it was just a few drinks.”

“For the fourth time this week. And until three in the morning again. I haven’t physically spoken to you since Friday, and the only reason we’re talking right now is because you woke me up. You know, all these late nights with another woman are starting to throw up all sorts of red flags, Beau.” Y/N said angrily as she turned to look at him.

“You know I’d never,” Beau’s firm voice and clenched jaw almost made her back down but he needed to know. He needed to hear this.

“Do I?” she scoffed. “Jenny isn’t even your partner, and yet you go on every case with her while her actual partner does what, huh? Sits at his desk and throws a football across the bullpen to his buddies? You’re the sheriff, for crying out loud, Beau! You don’t need to go out on even half of those calls! And then when your shift is over, the two of you run off to whatever dive bar you can find on the outskirts of town where no one knows you, and you can practically grope each other all night and-”

“Y/N, I’m gonna stop you right there. There is nothing going on with me and Jenny, okay? We’re just friends. And  she’s going through a tough time right now,” Beau tried to explain, but Y/N scoffed again and pretended not to notice that Beau was looking quite hurt that she doubted him.

“And tell me, Beau… would you believe that bullshit excuse if it was me, huh? What would be running through your mind if I was out drinking with a co-worker, singing karaoke, pulling him into hugs, playing with his hair and getting up close and personal with him?

“What would you think about that co-worker posting what looks like incredibly intimate photos on social media, knowing you could see them? Our daughter could see them? That the whole town could see them?” Y/N paused and showed him her phone.

She watched intently as he scrolled through the photos Jenny had posted with her arms around him, her head on his shoulder, her gazing up at him like he was the goddamn messiah. She watched as his face paled with the realisation of what those photos—particularly the last one—looked like.

“And what would you think if I came home from a night out, where there were photos of me and another man, who was “just a friend” like that,” she pointed at the photo of him and Jenny, his arm around her shoulder and his head resting on hers, one of her arms was around his waist, and her other hand resting on his chest, both smiling softly like they didn’t want to be anywhere else.

“What if I ignored all of your and our daughter’s calls, and when I finally came home, I went straight into the shower at three o’clock in the morning.”

“Y/N, I know what it looks like,” Beau tried to explain, but she couldn’t. Not right now. If she didn’t hit this home, he wouldn’t know just how much it had upset her.

“See, I don’t think you do. Not really. Because if it was me, you’d think showering so late meant that I was trying to get rid of the evidence of being with another man. You’re a good cop, Beau. A great one, even. So I find it really hard to believe that you wouldn’t think that. And that you wouldn’t have realised that things were getting far too close in there.

“And if something like this happened when we were still in Texas, you’d have ended the night right away and came home to your wife… or maybe that’s it. Maybe without my dad and brothers having eyes and ears everywhere, you’re finally free to do what and who you want!”

Y/N threw the duvet off her body and sat up on the bed. Dragging her pillow with her, she stood and walked across the room.

“Baby, where are you going?” Beau asked, and she could hear the regret in his tone.

“Anywhere that’s not here. I don’t want to be anywhere near you right now.”

Y/N barely slept a wink, and she knew her agitation was hard to hide in the morning. As she prepared the coffee machine, every drawer and cabinet door was closed a little more firmly than usual, and she seemed to have developed a fondness for huffing very loudly at inanimate objects.

“Did Dad even come home last night?” Maisie asked as she entered the kitchen. Y/N wanted to scold her daughter for her impertinence, but even she couldn’t deny that it was a fair question. He hadn’t been here when they’d gone to bed or woken up for the better part of a week. For all either of them knew, he hadn’t been home at all in that time.

“Hey!” Beau’s raised voice carried through the kitchen. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh!” Maisie exclaimed dramatically, “So that’s what you look like. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you that I was starting to forget.” Her sarcastic grin was uncannily like her mother’s, and it simultaneously made Beau’s chest burst with pride and broke his heart.

Y/N raised her eyebrows in surprise. Maisie had always been a daddy’s girl, and the fact that she was giving him a hard time was proof of how hurt she was too. Beau looked to Y/N, his expression begging her for some backup. Instead, she shrugged and carried on packing Maisie’s lunch, making it clear that this time, he was on his own.

“I know I haven’t been around much, baby girl, and I’m gonna change that, okay?” Beau said softly, sighing when Maisie scowled at him.“Mom said you made the team! I’m so proud of you, Maze,” he smiled, trying to defuse the tension building in the room.

“Where were you?” Maisie asked, tears welling in her green eyes, looking more vulnerable and hurt than Y/N ever wanted to see her daughter, and it made her even angrier.

“I’m sorry I missed the game–” Beau started but was interrupted by a scoff from his daughter.

“I’m not mad that you missed the game, Dad. You always miss stuff like that because of work,” she explained quietly. “But you always answer my calls, and last night you didn’t. So, where were you?”

“I… I was–” Beau struggled to figure out what the best thing to do was. Lie and hope Y/N didn’t rat him out or tell the truth and upset his girls even more than he already had.

“Your dad caught a case late last night. He was at the scene when you were calling, and by the time he got back to the station, he knew you’d be asleep,” Y/N answered for him, and Beau had never been more grateful to her for covering for him.

“Are you ready, honey? We need to get moving if you don’t want to be late for your first practice,” Y/N said and watched as Maisie smiled for the first time since dinner last night.

“Yeah, let’s go. Bye, Dad!” Maisie jumped off the stool and rounded the kitchen, hugging Beau before heading out to the driveway.

“Thank you,” Beau said quietly, stopping abruptly as Y/N raised a finger to stop him talking.

“Don’t you dare thank me for lying to our daughter. And don’t ever expect me to do it again. I did it to protect her, not you. If she finds out the reason you missed her game and didn’t answer her calls was to go out drinking, you will break her heart.

“You get this one for free. Next time… and I swear to God, there better not be a next time, but if there is? You are on your own. I won’t save you.” The venom in Y/N’s voice made him flinch. He’d never felt worse than he did right now, and he swore to himself that he’d never make his wife so angry again.

“It’s not just me you’re hurting here, Beau.”

Y/N picked up her purse and stormed out the front door, not stopping to kiss him or say goodbye; just gone.

And Beau didn’t blame her in the slightest.

P art Two>>

Tags: @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @leigh70 @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27 @candy-coated-misery0731 @mrsjenniferwinchester

[saltsicklover]

Prompt Request: Sneak Peak

Not a Cyclone, But a Monsoon

Read the Complete Story HERE

I got sent this amazing ask and I got started working on it before life decided to become ridiculous and get in the way off all of my writing time. So, I wanted to post a little sneak peak of it, as it is still in progress.

I hope you like it, @inkandarsenic !

"Is your father planning on coming to your graduation?" The question is so simple, the next plausible question after toasting to her Mother's life. Monsoon bristles at the question, her expression becoming impossibly more tight, pinched.

"He's uhm," The foam in the bottom of Monsoon's glass is the most interesting thing in the room. Tears are flooding her eyes again, and she's turning back to the shitty bar napkins in the even shittier dispenser. Cyclone knows his question hit a nerve based on how she is frantically pulling napkin after napkin out of the dispenser; and the Admiral's guilt swims to the surface. He is sure that the horizon of it can be seen in his iris's, if Monsoon were to look past the evident sadness that has made a home there. He's pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, blue in color and perfectly folded. He offers it to her and it's taken with a slightly shaky hand. 

"M.I.A. or AWOL?" Cyclone asks. There's a bit of humor to his question that neither of them comment on. 

"He went AWOL when I was seven," She doesn't take her eyes off the popping foam in the bottom of her glass, "Then I suppose he went M.I.A. three years later, when he stopped sending birthday cards," 

Cyclone hates the way her shrugs are all noncommittal and vaguely unbothered. He would have killed for a chance to raise his child, hell, he would move the Earth if that meant he even had a chance to do something. The fact that a man would walk out on his family, on his own child, it makes him sick. There is still something else Monsoon isn't saying; the way she chuckles is almost wax poetic with the way she rolls her eyes. Cyclone raises an eyebrow at her as he gestures to the bartended for two more on tap. 

"I was in Admiral Kazansky's office today," She chuckles again, eyes glassy and unfocused. Cyclone slides the new beer over to her. He brings his up to his lips as she breathes deeply, trying to order the words together in her head, words she can't believe she is about to say out loud. 

"There's a fucking picture of my father on his desk," Then she is downing the beer in quick, deep gulps. It's half gone before she sets it back down. Cyclone's brain is working on overdrive, swerving the hazy clouds of intoxication, searching for the mental picture of the Admiral's desk. Monsoon is chuckling in quiet disbelief, picturing the damn photo on his desk, her father and the Admiral shaking hands during their time at Top Gun. It makes her sick, really, but she doesn't need to say it based on the way her face feels, all contorted and ugly.

[rizlowwritessortof]

Unforgivable Part 3

Sequel to A Little Rowdy, because I just wasn’t done with those two! Here it is - the final part!

Huge thanks to editsbymichele (IG) for the lovely Beau header - beautiful as always, my friend!! And thank you to @firefly-graphics for the divider!

Beau and Laney have settled into a comfortable relationship, things are smooth and easy - until Laney is threatened, and Beau strongly suspects she’s not the real target.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Laney Marcus

Word Count: 5867 (Got a little wordy 😁)

Warnings: Smut (as usual), stalking, menacing behavior

Part 1 Part 2

Laney stared down at the photos, a cold numbness seeping through her body. She stood there silent for a moment, then pushed away from the desk. Beau called her name as she rushed towards the door, jerking it open and heading out into the main office. He looked at Poppernak, frustration and anger in his eyes. “Goddamn it, Pops,” he said softly through clenched teeth, then followed after Laney.

She was busily sorting permits and complaint forms to be filed, her hands visibly shaking, and Beau closed his eyes for a moment, wishing he had the person responsible in his hands. He pulled a chair up close to her desk and sat down, leaning forward with his arms braced on his knees. “Laney, look at me,” he said, his voice quiet and gentle.

She shook her head, continuing on with her task. “No. I can’t deal with this right now, Beau. I just need to work. I just… I need to keep busy. And if I look at you, I’ll start crying, and… I just can’t.”

“Okay. I get it. Or you can come in my office, and I’ll just hold you all afternoon if that’s what you need, honey.”

She shook her head again. “No, you can’t. There’s too much going on right now, you’ve got a job to do, and so do I. I’ll fall apart later.” He sat there looking at her, barely restraining himself from pulling her into his arms in spite of what she’d said. She stopped moving suddenly, staring down at her desk, her eyes stinging with tears she was fighting to control. “Beau, please. I’m okay. I promise.”

He took a deep breath, shaking his head as he stood reluctantly. “Okay, Laney. Okay. Promise me you’ll call me if you need me. If you need anything. I mean it.”

She nodded, and he turned away, heading back to his office, where Poppernak stood watching in the doorway. “Is she okay, boss?”

“No,” he answered shortly, going to his desk to gather the photos, the note and the envelope. “Take these to be processed for prints. And then meet me outside, we need to head back out to the fairgrounds.” He grabbed his Stetson and left his office, glancing at Laney one more time before he headed for the front door.

When Beau unlocked the door to Laney’s place that night, it was past midnight. He walked in, sending a weary half-smile Cassie’s way as she uncurled herself from the sofa. “Hey, Beau.”

“Man, I’m sorry, Cassie. This all couldn’t have happened at a worse time. I hope you know how much I appreciate you hanging out here with Laney.”

“No worries. I crashed on the couch, not like it’s the first time I’ve done it. I’ll survive.”

“How was she?”

Cassie shrugged. “Pretty quiet. She went to bed early.”

Beau nodded. “Yeah. Rough day.” He ran a hand back through his hair. “I hate that I couldn’t…”

“Stop it. She knows. Quit beating yourself up.”

He quirked a rueful smile and nodded. “Wish it was that easy.”

Cassie rose to her feet and grabbed her jacket, giving Beau’s shoulder a squeeze on the way by. “See you later.”

“Yeah. Thanks again.” He locked the door after her, then turned and hung his hat and jacket on the hook by the door before pulling off his boots. He quietly made his way through the bedroom, closing the bathroom door softly, shedding his clothes and climbing in for a quick shower.

Laney was sound asleep as he crawled into bed beside her, and she let out a contented sigh as he pulled her into his arms. “Hey,” she mumbled into his chest, snuggling into his warmth.

“Hey, honey.” He kissed her hair and gave her a squeeze, smiling as she kissed his skin in return.

“You okay?” she whispered.

“Long day, but I’m okay. Are you?”

“Better now.”

“Yeah. Me, too, darlin’.”

The next morning, Jenny popped into Beau’s office with a cup of coffee in each hand, and he shot her a grateful grin. “You read my mind.”

“I figured you could use a little extra boost.” She sighed. “So, I came in early to go through the security cam footage from yesterday.”

“Oh? Jenny, you didn’t have to do that, but thank you. Get anything?”

She huffed out a breath in frustration. “No. Whoever sent that envelope was smart enough to bribe some kid, probably nine or ten years old, to bring it in and drop it off. So no help there. I’m sorry.”

“Not surprised. Thanks for checking that out, I appreciate it. I just hope nothing else blows up until this goddamn festival is over.”

Jenny headed for the door, turning back to nod in agreement. “Hope so. Catch you later.”

Beau took a big gulp of the coffee, grabbed his hat, and walked out into the office. His eyes slid over Laney’s way, but she was smiling and talking to a co-worker, so he shoved that worry down below a few of the others on his mind. He headed to the front and turned, speaking loudly to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, everybody, listen up. We’re gonna have our hands full for the next few days, so just letting you all know that Powell and Jefferson Counties are sending some deputies to help us out for the festival. I’m sure most of you already know these guys, they’ll just be pitching in. City police are gonna be pretty busy here in town, too, but they’ll help out when and if they can. State Patrol are also aware, they can be called on if we need ‘em, but hopefully that won’t be necessary. I’m giving the assignment list to Madge, so check in with her and get familiar with where you’ll be and when. Okay, let’s hit it. Any problems, give me or Deputy Hoyt a yell.” He caught Laney’s eye and he sent her a wink in response to her smile before plopping his Stetson on his head and heading out the door.

Laney and Denise were sitting in her living room chatting when Beau walked in the door late that afternoon, and Laney jumped up to greet him with a hug and a happy grin. “I didn’t think I’d see you tonight!” Her smile faded quickly as she continued. “Or do you have to leave again?”

“Nope. Everything’s covered for now. Calm before the storm. Everything’s set up and settled out at the fairgrounds, the rodeo isn’t until Saturday and Sunday, so the cowboys won’t be here to raise a ruckus until Friday night. And I brought pizza.” He hung his hat and jacket up and grabbed the pizza he had set down on the hall table. “Pepperoni. Extra pepperoni.”

Laney took the pizza from him and stretched up to give him a kiss. “Well, I’ll grab some beer and plates,” she offered, “and you sit down and relax.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He pulled his boots off and headed for the couch, settling in with a sigh and propping his feet up on the coffee table.

They talked Denise into staying for pizza, enjoying each other’s company for a while before she stood up and stretched. “Okay, you two, I have stuff to do at home, so better hit the road.” She looked at Beau sternly. “Bo-bo, you need to get some sleep.”

He shot her a crooked smile. “Planning on it.”

Laney walked her to the door, sending her on her way with a hug and thank you before locking up behind her. She came back and sat at the opposite end of the couch, and Beau shot her a pouty look. “Hey… do I need a shower that bad?”

She smiled, shaking her head. “No, you goofball. Come here.” She patted her leg, and he perked up.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, get over here. Stretch out and get comfy and relax for a change.” He mumbled about the bossy women in his life as he shifted positions, but the contented sigh when he laid his head in her lap made her laugh. “You love it. Sometimes.” He pulled her arm over him and hugged it to his chest.

“You’re right. I do. Sometimes.”

She grabbed the remote and flipped through channels until she found an old detective series marathon, then put her feet up on the coffee table and ran her fingers through Beau’s hair. He hummed in approval, so she continued, letting the soft strands run through her fingers, sometimes very gently scratching over his scalp with her nails.

“I’ll give you two years to quit that,” he mumbled, and she laughed softly. He was practically purring in her lap, and he pressed a kiss to the hand he held captured. “You’re gonna put me to sleep, darlin’.”

“I don’t mind. I’ll wake you up when it’s time to go to bed.” He snuggled in a little more, and she gladly continued, even when he began to softly snore.

The festival kicked off on Thursday afternoon, and it didn’t take long for the sheriff’s office to be overrun with members of the public coming in to report fender-benders at the fairgrounds parking area, car break-ins, and apparently a very talented pickpocket who had relieved several people of their wallets. A good portion of the deputies were at the fairgrounds, and everyone left in the office, including Laney, were busy taking reports. The only time she had seen Beau all day was when he came in to take someone to the holding cell that he had caught red-handed breaking into a car.

Laney looked up as Madge brought yet another person to her desk to file a complaint. The dark-haired woman was in tears, the front of her shirt torn, and Laney helped her take a seat, handing her a tissue as she sat down to take her report. “Are you hurt?” The woman shook her head. “What’s your name, ma’am?”

“Mya. Mya Cameron.”

“Okay, Mya. Can you tell me what happened?”

The poor woman had been assaulted, dragged behind one of the buildings, but when someone happened to walk by, her attacker had grabbed her purse and run away. Laney did her best to calm the woman, taking down all the details Mya could remember and listing the important items that had been stolen from her.

Mya was still shaking when they finished, and Laney put a sympathetic hand over hers, giving it a squeeze. “Do you have someone that can come and pick you up?” she asked, but Mya shook her head.

“N-no, my car is parked in back, there was no place left in front. I don’t live far, I can make it home. But – can you walk me to my car? When I get home I can drive into the garage, but I’m afraid to go outside alone.”

Laney nodded. “I understand.” She glanced around, but everyone was busy helping someone, so she gave Mya’s hand another squeeze. “I’ll walk you out.”

She ushered the woman back through the booking room to the back door, and Mya pointed to the small, dark sedan parked behind the building. “That’s my car.” They walked out together, Laney’s hand on her back reassuringly as Mya thanked her. “Thank you so much, I just couldn’t come back out here alone, you’ve been so kind.” They reached her car, and Mya pulled her keys from her pocket, hitting the button to unlock the door and opening it. “And now I need you to get in.”

Laney’s eyes widened as the woman grabbed a gun from the drivers seat of the car and gestured inside. “Get in. Now.”

“How the fuck did this happen?” Even in his office with the door closed, Beau’s voice carried through the entire office.

“Beau. You need to calm down.” Jenny’s voice was firm, and Beau glared at her, but took a deep breath and stopped shouting.

“I’ll start checking the security cam footage, see if we can see where she went,” Poppernak offered, and Beau nodded curtly, his teeth clenched. He grabbed his football from the shelf, kneading it between his hands, and Jenny put a hand on his shoulder.

“Breathe.”

“I should have assigned somebody to her full time. I thought she’d be safe in here. Goddamnit!” Beau growled, setting the ball down and heading out the door to Poppernak’s desk. “Anything?” Pops was scrolling through, watching sped-up footage of everyone who had been at Laney’s desk. Beau gripped the edge of his deputy’s desk so hard his knuckles were white, watching with narrowed eyes as a dark-haired woman was led to Laney’s desk by Madge. “Slow it down, Pops.”

“You recognize her?” Poppernak asked, slowing the footage down.

“Not sure. Maybe.”

They watched closely as Laney appeared to look around, then stood and walked with the woman to the back of the room. “Let me switch cameras, boss.” Pops moved to the view from the booking room, then to the outside view of the back of the building. They watched as the women walked to the car and Mya aimed the gun at Laney, and Beau swore under his breath as she forced Laney to get in, then looked straight at the camera before getting in beside her. “Shit. Mya.”

“You know her?” Jenny asked, and Beau nodded.

“Yeah. From Houston. She was my partner’s confidential informant.”

“The one who was killed?” Beau gave a grim nod, and Jenny took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. “What do you want to do?”

Beau looked into her eyes, the struggle for control evident on his features. “Pops, put out an APB on that license plate. But she’ll be calling. She’s after me.”

Less than half an hour later, Beau’s phone rang. He looked at it as if it would bite him for a moment, then grabbed it and answered. “Yeah.”

“Beau?”

He stood up, his heart thudding in his chest. “Laney? Laney, are you all right?”

Her voice shook a little as she answered. “I’m fine. She hasn’t hurt me.”

“Baby, I’m so sorry…”

“It’s not your fault. Beau…” He closed his eyes, his face working as he fought to stay calm. “Beau, she said come alone. She’ll text you the address. But stay away, don’t come…” The call went dead, cutting her pleading short, and Beau dropped back down into his chair. A few seconds later, the text came through, and he nodded silently.

“Okay. I have to deal with this. Jenny, you’re in charge.”

Jenny glared down at him. “You’re not going alone. We’re coming with you. We’ll stay outside until you need us, but…”

“She’s right, boss,” Poppernak joined in. “We’re coming.”

Beau stared back at them, his mouth held tight. “Fine. But I’m going in alone. Got that? I’m not risking it. If she wants me, she’s got me. As long as she lets Laney go. Houston’s been haunting me long enough.”

Laney shifted uncomfortably, unable to move much since Mya had bound both her wrists and her ankles to the chair with duct tape. They were in an old car repair shop, long empty from the looks of it, windows boarded up and only one functioning regular door at the front next to a huge garage door. “Why are you doing this?”

Her captor threw a glare over her shoulder, turning back to watch the door. “Nothing to do with you. You’re just bait.”

“So you’re a coward. Waiting here to ambush him when he walks in.”

“Shut up. You have no idea what he’s done.”

“I know he’s a good man. And whatever he did, there had to be a reason.”

Mya sighed, impatient with the conversation, pacing the floor and keeping her eyes on the front of the room. “Just shut up before I find an old grease rag to shove down your throat.”

Laney fired a venomous look at the woman’s back, continuing to try and loosen her bonds. Unfortunately, the tape didn’t loosen easily, but she kept working at it, desperate to do something. Mya still had the gun in her hand, and Laney was struggling not to panic at the thought of Beau walking straight through that door and into a bullet.

She heard the sound of a vehicle pulling up outside, unable to stop herself from speaking again. “Please, Mya – please, I’m begging you, whatever it is, you two can talk about it. Maybe he can help you. Just please don’t…”

“SHUT. UP.” The woman rushed towards her, grabbing the roll of duct tape and tearing off a strip, slapping it over Laney’s mouth. She still let out a muffled shout as the door opened and she watched the silhouette of Beau’s tall form against the brightness outside. “Come in and close the door,” Mya ordered, and he complied, his hands held out to his sides as he walked closer. “Far enough.”

“Laney, are you all right?” he asked, and she nodded, relieved to see he was wearing his bullet-proof vest.

“She’s fine. For now, anyway.”

“Okay, Mya. I’m here. How about you let her go, then you and I can hash things out?”

“This ain’t Houston, Sheriff. You’re not in charge here.” She backed away from him, turning to point the gun at Laney’s head.

Beau raised his hands, taking a step back. “Whoa, whoa… Mya, take it easy. Whatever you need, just – I’m the one you’re pissed off at. She didn’t do anything to you.”

“Randy didn’t do anything to you, either. You said he was like your brother. He was your partner. And you – you put all those other people, people you didn’t even know, ahead of him. You let him die. He was screaming, they were torturing him, and you left him down there while you saved strangers.” Her eyes were full of tears, the hand holding the gun shaking, and Beau took a slow step forward.

“I have to live with what happened to Randy every day. Damn near destroyed me. It did destroy my family and everything else I had in Houston. It was unforgivable, leaving him down there - but we had no choice. We had to get those people out of there before the gunfire started, or a lot of innocent people wouldn’t have walked away that night.”

“He needed you!”

“I know! I know he did. I also know what the coroner told me. That Randy wasn’t gonna survive, even if they wouldn’t have cut his throat.”

“That’s your story.”

“That’s the truth, Mya. If you remember one thing about me, you should remember I never lied to you.”

She let a little sob escape, tears wetting her face, and she aimed an enraged glare his direction. “We were supposed to be together!” she shouted. “After the case, when it was all over, we were gonna leave Houston, start a new life! And you let him die!”

Beau stared at Laney, willing her to read what was in his mind. He held a hand down at his side, making a little gesture that he hoped she would understand. Her eyes widened a little and she tilted her head to the side, and he gave a little nod, covering it by clearing his throat. Then he took a deep breath and prayed that it would play out the way he hoped. “Mya. Randy wasn’t gonna leave with you.”

“Yes, he was.”

“No, he wasn’t. He told me he screwed up, got too close to you and slept with you. He was my partner, Mya, he told me everything. He felt bad, he did. But he wasn’t gonna leave his wife and kid to run off with his CI. After it happened, he had to keep you happy, keep you in line until it was all over.”

“You’re lying!!” She screamed, moving towards him and swinging the gun his direction, a crazed look in her eyes.

He shot a look Laney’s way, and she heaved her weight sideways, sending her chair crashing to the floor. Mya screeched and turned the gun back towards where Laney had been, and Beau rushed forward, making a flying tackle, his hand clamped around Mya’s wrist to aim the gun towards the ceiling as they fell. He slammed her arm into the floor, and the gun went sliding away as Beau fought to keep her from clawing at his face, finally capturing her hands in one hand and hitting his radio button with the other. “I got her, get in here!”

Poppernak and Jenny came bursting through the door, guns drawn, quickly assessing the situation. Jenny pulled her cuffs from her belt and ran to help Beau while Pops rushed to Laney’s side, pulling out his pocket knife to cut her free. She tore the tape from her mouth, breathing ‘Thank you’ and hugging the big man as he helped her to her feet.

And then Beau was there, wrapping his arms around her and holding her so tight she could barely breathe. She clung to him just as tightly, finally looking up at him as he took her by the shoulders and looked down into her eyes. “Are you okay? She didn’t hurt you?”

Laney shook her head. “No, she didn’t. I’m fine, Beau. I’m okay.”

He took her face in his hands and kissed her, then leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes closed. “Hey,” Laney said softly, waiting for him to look at her again. “I’m okay. We’re all okay. It’s over.” He nodded, finally sending her a soft smile and kissing her again.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Saturday night rolled around, and Beau took the steps at Laney’s house in one leap, bursting in through the door with a grin. “Ready to go?”

“Be right there!” she called out, and Beau’s eyes widened as she sauntered her way around the corner. “Rodeo appropriate?”

He let out a low whistle as he let his eyes roam up and down, taking in her Lucchese cowboy boots, her short denim skirt, cute little t-shirt that said ‘Not my first rodeo,’ and the fawn-colored Stetson perched on top of her hair. She whirled around, blushing a touch at the look in his eyes as he came close, pulling her hard against him with one arm as he swept the hat off with his other hand so he could bend to kiss her.

“Do we have to go?” he asked with a wink, letting his hand drift down to give her tush a little squeeze. “I can think of things I’d rather look at than cowboys gettin’ their asses kicked.”

Laney giggled softly, giving his lips another quick taste. “Yes, we do. We’re meeting everybody, remember? But… maybe… we can take a little walk sometime while everybody’s busy?” she teased. “Unless you end up having to work.”

“Pops is handling things for tonight, unless something really goes to shit, so hopefully I won’t have to worry about it. But I’m gonna hold you to that little walk. Those boots are makin’ me a little crazy.”

She grabbed her hat away from him and plopped it back in place. “What about the hat?”

He shook his head with a muffled growl. “Move your cute little ass, cowgirl, or we still might not make it to that rodeo.” She laughed at him and scooted for the door with Beau right on her heels.

Jenny had saved them a seat, and they settled in between the other two couples. Cormac brought a round of beers for everyone except the two unfortunate law enforcement officers who had to behave just in case they were called to duty, and the bronc riding event kicked off just as he returned. They cheered on the few local boys who were riding, thoroughly enjoying the rowdy atmosphere.

It was just hitting dusk, the lights coming on around the arena when Beau leaned in to whisper in Laney’s ear. “How about that walk you promised?”

She looked up at him, slipping her hand into his as she nodded, her eyes shining. “Yeah. Let’s go before the bull riding starts.”

He laughed. “Never knew you were such a buckle bunny,” he joked, and she smiled up at him.

“Oh, I’ve got all the cowboy I need, mister,” she retorted, standing up with him and telling their friends they’d be right back.

The two of them strolled around, hand-in-hand, chatting with a few people on the way, but Beau slowly led them away from the crowd and out towards the two small horse stables at the edge of the fairgrounds. Most of the rodeo animals were trucked in the day of the show, but the workers usually kept their mounts on the grounds for the duration of the festival.

They walked into one of the buildings, eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. The sweet smell of fresh hay filled the air, and Laney breathed it in with a smile. Beau stopped and took off his hat, then reached for hers, hanging them on two posts on a nearby stall, pulling her inside and kissing her softly. “I’ve been thinking about doing this for hours.”

“You’ve been thinking about it for hours, or you want to do it for hours?” Laney grinned up at him as he made an exaggerated thoughtful expression.

“Would you believe both?” He backed her further into the stall, gesturing behind her with a nod of his head. “Feel like a roll in the hay?” She turned her head, spying the large pile of clean straw taking up the back half of the stall and returning his grin. “One second, that might look great in the movies, but you’ll get scratched all to hell. I saw something out here…” he went back out of the stall, returning with a new horse blanket and clean towel. He tore open the plastic and shook out the blanket, spreading it over the straw, then held out a hand with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“I feel like I’m about to star in a farmer’s daughter porno,” she laughed, taking his hand.

His eyebrows shot up, his eyes lighting up with his smile. “I can work with that.” He went to one knee in front of her, looking into her eyes as he smoothed his palms up the back of her thighs. “Might as well take these off for a bit,” he said softly, his fingers sliding around and into the waist of her panties. Her breath hitched at his touch, and she took her lip between her teeth as he slipped them down her legs and over her boots, then tucked them into his pocket with a wink.

He kept his eyes on her as he pulled his gun from the holster, laying it down beside the straw, then unfastened his belt and his pants with a smirk that sent a flash of heat through her veins. He moved quickly, gently tackling her onto the blanket, surprising a shocked giggle from her as she landed, his arms propping him up above her. Before she could speak, he bent to kiss her, stealing her words along with her breath.

“Show me what you got on under that shirt, darlin’,” he coaxed in a low rumble, raising up enough to let her pull her shirt up, revealing her white lace bra, her nipples visible and straining against the cloth. He moaned, mumbling, “Damn, woman, you drive me crazy,” before biting down gently on one hard nub and giving it a tug with his teeth as his fingers slipped up beneath her skirt.

She was wet and ready for him, her hips rising up to welcome his fingers, and he wasted no time in shoving his pants down far enough to free his throbbing cock. He filled her slowly, making her whimper as he went deep and held himself there, his lips crashing down on hers once again. She wrapped her legs around him, moaning into their kiss as he bucked into her hard, then hit a steady rhythm, her hips meeting every thrust.

It didn’t take long before she was trembling underneath him, beginning to pulse around him, and just as she was about to lose control, a loud voice echoed through the barn.

“Tyler! You in here?” Footsteps on the concrete floor made them both freeze, and Laney clapped both hands over her mouth to smother the sounds she couldn’t quite control. Beau gritted his teeth, swallowing the groan that was building in his chest as her cunt squeezed him tight,. The footsteps stopped as the man listened, then headed back for the entrance. “Goddamn kid. I’m gonna fire his ass.”

“Fffuck…” Beau grunted as Laney clutched at his back, still arching up into him as she rode out the orgasm she had been unable to stop. She finally stilled, lying quiet for a moment before rolling her head to the side, a soft laugh escaping her lips, and Beau grinned down at her. He began to move again, hard and fast strokes, punching a whine from her as she clamped her legs around him tight again, moaning his name as he came inside her with a soft growl. He kissed her quick and hard, then gazed down at her with a satisfied smile on his face, and she stared up into his shining eyes as she reached to brush his hair off his forehead.

“That was intense,” she breathed, and he nodded with a chuckle.

“Yeah, we almost got caught. Totally worth it, though.”

“Completely.” She pulled him down for another kiss. “But we’d better get back, huh?”

He blew out a breath, reluctantly pulling out and grabbing the folded towel he had appropriated. “Yeah. I’m sure they’re wondering what happened to us.” He helped her clean up and slip her panties back on, then got his clothes and gun back in place before pulling her close for a lingering kiss. They left the blanket and towel behind and grabbed their hats again, walking back towards the arena, once again hand-in-hand.

The bull riding was already in progress when they climbed back to their seats, and Jenny shook her head at Laney. “Where have you two been?”

“We just went for a walk on the grounds,” Laney replied, watching the action in the arena to avoid meeting her friend’s eyes.

“A walk. Right.” Jenny reached to pull a long piece of straw from Laney’s hair, a knowing smirk on her face, and Laney shrugged, ducking her head with a sheepish smile.

“Well, there was walking involved,” she protested and Jenny laughed, bumping their shoulders together. Laney just kept smiling as Beau laced his fingers through hers on the other side.

A few nights later, Laney sat snuggled in Beau’s arms as they watched a movie together, basking in the peace after the hectic week before. He dropped a kiss to her temple and gave her a squeeze with a little sigh.

“What?” she asked, tilting her head to look up at him.

“Oh, nothin’ – I just need to make a run to the trailer. Unless you want to start Naked Sheriff Thursdays around here.”

She laughed. “I’d love Naked Sheriff Thursday, or Friday, or any day you want, actually.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him with an impish gleam in her eyes.

“Yeah, well, nobody else in town would probably agree with you.”

“Oh, I don’t know – Mrs. Ortiz loves to spy on you, so…”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Too cold in Montana for that.” Laney waited for a moment, then pulled out of his grasp and climbed aboard his lap to face him, staring into his eyes. “What?”

“I had an idea. I just don’t want you to think you have to, or that I’m putting demands on you.”

“To think I have to what?” He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and she smiled a little nervously.

“Well, I’ve been thinking. I mean, you’re here most of the time anyway, and if you just moved in, you wouldn’t have to keep going back to the trailer for clothes and stuff, and I’ve got plenty of closet space. And I talked to Cassie, she said she’s got a little pasture in a spot away from the house, and there’s a well house there so there would be electricity available and you could move the trailer there and we could still have outdoor movie nights when the weather’s good and when it’s not you could just winterize it and then you wouldn’t have to pay for lot rent. And…”

An amused smile was playing on Beau’s lips as she rambled, and he finally put a gentle finger to her lips to stop her. “You want me to move in? Like, my boots and dirty socks all over the place, and my stuff in the bathroom, and no privacy?” She smiled, dropping her eyes for a second before she answered.

“Well, I have a hamper for your dirty socks, and I kinda like your boots all over the place. I like all of your stuff all over the place.” Her smile faded slowly, her expression a little unsure as she looked at him again, biting at her lip before she continued. “I love you, Beau. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to feel the same way yet, but I just wanted you to know.”

His eyes searched hers, his hand raising to her face and his thumb stroking softly over her cheek. “You love me?” She nodded, leaning into his touch, her eyes sparkling a little with unshed tears at the strength of her emotions. He leaned forward to kiss her, his lips clinging to hers as if they never wanted to leave. He pulled back a little to rest his forehead against hers, his voice wavering just a touch as he started to speak. “I guess that makes me just about the luckiest man I know. I love you, too, Laney – so damn much.”

She tilted her face to kiss him again, his thumb catching a happy tear as it escaped down her cheek before she wrapped her arms around him tight, and he held her close as they sat in silence for a few moments, surrounded by each other. When she finally pulled back, she smiled at him with such excitement in her eyes that he laughed.

“What? Better say it before you bust,” he teased.

“I was just gonna say – we should go to the trailer. And pack your stuff.”

“Are you really sure about this? Me moving in?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” She slid from his lap and took hold of his hand, pulling at him. “Come on, boots on, mister!”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, heading for entryway to follow orders as she slipped her shoes on. He grabbed her as she met him by the door, kissing her breath away, his hands splayed on her back, holding her tight against him. “Maybe we’ll just give that trailer a goodbye christening while we’re at it, huh?”

She grinned in response. “Sounds perfect to me.”

Tags for my lovelies:  @saenalife    @deanscarlett    @jensensgotyoudean    @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis    @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog    @geeklibrarian    @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid      @mrswhozeewhatsis    @littlegreenplasticsoldier    @sleep-silent-angel    @darcia22    @winchesterprincessbride    @ellen-reincarnated1967    @eyes-of-a-disney-princess      @deanslittleangel2y5    @melanie451        @spectaculacular-sammy     @bookchic20    @jodyri    @selma-jean-blog           @savingapplepie-eatingthings    @kittenofdoomage    @masked-maiden42    @lean-mean-deanwinchester    @ericuhlorain    @undecided-garden    @ceeceewinchester    @typicalweirdbookworm          @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit    @youtoldalie    @tanithlowisabamf-blog    @deandoesthingstome    @jxackles    @nerdwholikesword    @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic    @kreweofimp  @gabavaldman    @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog    @darkx143    @disassociativedogma    @ioanashalala    @jencharlan    @deansthirstblog     @dorky-and-i-know-it    @mischief-maker1    @winchestersandwordprocessors    @percussiongirl2017    @bringmesomepie56   @akshi8278    @torn-and-frayed    @sandlee44   @wingedcatninja  @evansrogerskitten   @emoryhemsworth  @peaceinourtime82  @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior  @sarcasmqueen74   @maliburenee     @mrsjenniferwinchester   @yeehawbitchs   @emily-winchester  @hobby27    spnbaby-67

[asmutwriter]

I caved. I watched Big Sky. Fan fic story pending.

[deaddcas]

imagine Laudna finding out that the hot lady with the abs wants to sleep with her girlfriend..bro the jealousy would be so delicious

[whohasthecards]

What if the dagger squad were stationed as a permanent squadron at Top Gun. All of them teach, some more than others, they train together, and still go on missions and all that. They start to get closer because of work and they live close to one another. One day in class, the students decide to prank the instructors by messing with the paperwork, they didn't get caught, but unfortunately they did the prank when the dagger squad were in a bad mood. Jake comes in the office and notices the bad mood and makes a joke to lighten things up, but it ends up with the squad snapping at him and even blaming him for what happened (probably Rooster and Phoenix starts it). Jake tries to defend himself saying something along the lines of 'I don't even know what happened, and my paperwork got messed with too', but no one believes him. Even Coyote and Mav were disappointed in him, hell even Hondo pulls him aside and tells him he should stop messing with the squad. He feels hurt and decides to stop arguing because 'it's not worth it.' The next couple of days the students notice how tense the dagger squad is and managed to piece together what happens based on tactical information gathering (eavesdropping). They start feeling bad, but thinks Hangman deserves it for being a dick sometimes. Cyclone finds out what happened and thinks, 'that doesn't sound like Hangman' because Hangman is very precise with his paperwork, he was also in charge of making most of the lesson plan that week, so the prank would have harmed him the most. He manages to talk to Hangman, who says he doesn't know who did it, but nobody believes him, and he waves off Cyclone's concern saying, 'it doesn't matter, anyways'. However, Cyclone sees how withdrawn the younger man is, and how the dagger squad was getting more pissy with him. Cyclone gets even more concerned and pulls up the CCTV footage and finds out what happens, and pulls the dagger squad and the students to rip them a new one. How disappointed he is in top naval officers not investigating properly and acting like children, and how the students just let it fester. He turns to Hangman and asks how he would like to proceed with punishing the students, and Hangman shrugs and tells him to let the rest of the dagger squad decide because 'you guys were the most inconvenienced by what happened, so you guys chose.' To the students he says, 'I get it, I messed with my COs too, I would say not to let it go on for this long next time, but we all know that ain't happenin' ', he gives them a smile and leaves. The dagger squad bends over backwards trying to get Jake to forgive him, but he tries to stay strictly professional. Cyclone becomes more involved in Hangman's life, and even acts as a mentor. Invites him for dinner or drinks and all that. Hangman is confused, but happy Cyclone gives him the time of day. Eventually Hangman starts becoming more open with Cyclone, and hangs out in his office much more, and Cyclone enjoys the kid's company. One day after a successful mission, Beau pulls Jake close for a side hug and a hair ruffle instead of shaking his hand, and after Jake gives him a small smile, eyes filled with wonder, Beau knew that he wasn't gonna let him go.

I want this as a happy ending of course, and probably change it a bit to make it more "realistic" and all that. Will I actually write it? Who knows, it's just thoughts dump. I just like giving Hangman angst and a chance to have even more found family. (He and the dagger squad will be cool eventually, they spoil him more later on.)

[zepskies]

Didn't Mean to Stay

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Female Reader 

Summary: After three months, you ask Beau to make it clear. Is he serious about this relationship, or are you two just passing time?

AN: I've done a lot of Soldier Boy recently, so here's Beau for a palette cleanser. 😂 This came about from this music prompt a while back! I’m happy to finally get to this. 

Song Inspo: “Didn’t Mean to Stay All Night” by Starship

Word Count: 1,700 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Nudity, fluff, bit of angst.

In times like these, you really hated the sun. 

You squeezed your eyes tighter, trying to block out the beam of light that seemed to be hitting you directly between the eyes. 

Damn. Really need to get those blinds fixed.

You’d asked your landlord about it a few times now. Not to mention the backed up garbage disposal in your sink, and your refrigerator that kept leaking something green.

Whatever. Rent’s cheap for a reason, you mused. 

With a sleepy sigh, you rolled over and met resistance. A toned, freckled arm was in your way. You slipped a hand around the familiar bicep, soothing warm fingers over chilled skin. 

A deep hum reached you, followed by Beau’s head lolling over.

A smile growing across your lips, you snuggled closer and perched your chin on his shoulder. And with gentle fingers, you traced across his brows, sweeping away locks of his brown hair. You then traced down his nose, the bow of his lips, the point of his bearded chin.

When his green eyes finally opened, they found your face with fond, if sleepy exasperation. It seemed you couldn’t help but wake him up. But he could admit, you gave the best damn wake up calls. 

“There’s a man in my bed,” you said. Your cheeky smile grew along with his.

“That there is,” he said. His eyes roamed your face, probably for the same reason you traced his. He unearthed a hand from below the covers to thumb at your chin, tilting your face up to him for a slow morning kiss. 

But as always with Sheriff Beau Arlen, it never stopped there. His hand swept across your cheek, into your hair that was still tangled from the night before. You went willingly into his embrace, slipping your naked thigh between his legs and half lying on his chest. His bare skin felt cool against yours. 

“Why’re you so cold?” you wondered with a frown. You rubbed down his arm, his chest, his back and shoulders, whatever exposed skin you could reach. Beau quirked a smile and held you tighter against him, pressing your breasts against his chest. His hands splayed across your back and playfully squeezed you. 

“Why’re you so warm?” he countered. “Thought it was my job to bring the heat here.” 

You snorted in response. “That’s a shared responsibility, sir.”

You felt his length growing against your thigh in response to your touch, and you were tempted to reach below the sheets to give him a proper “good morning.” Beau’s nipping kisses along your neck distracted you, however. 

“Guess I’m not used to winters in Montana just yet,” he admitted. His voice was deep and still a bit coarse. Delight tingled down your spine as you ran a warm hand up and down his back. 

“That’s okay. I’ll help you acclimate,” you said in his ear. His chuckle reverberated in your chest, down to your toes. 

“I’m sure you will, darlin’,” he said with that Texan drawl of his. It was always thicker when he was sleepy. You also heard the smile in his voice. “Though I gotta wonder if we haven’t been doing just that for the past few months.”

Your lips pressed thoughtfully against his neck. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that.”

“Yeah?”

You leaned back so you could see his face, and you held a hand to his cheek. Just as you drew your courage enough to ask him what had been plaguing your mind for weeks now, Beau caught sight of the digital clock on your nightstand. 

“Aw, damn,” he said. “Didn’t mean to stay all night again.”

You couldn’t help but deflate at that. Withdrawing your hand, your smile faded. He caught the change when he glanced back up at you, and his brows furrowed. 

“Sorry, it’s just…Carla’s bringing my daughter this morning. I’m taking her out for breakfast before my shift,” he admitted. 

You nodded at that, though you still hadn’t officially met his daughter Emily. Not as his girlfriend at least…but then again, even after three months, you weren’t sure if you’d earned that label. 

Clearly you hadn’t, as Beau wasn’t inviting you to breakfast.

He probably just wants to spend some one-on-one time with his daughter, you tried to reason. You knew he didn’t get to see her as often as he liked. 

“If she likes pancakes, might want to take her to The Belgian. They make a mean three-egg scramble too,” you supplied, giving him a smile as you started to detangle yourself from his embrace. 

Beau quirked a brow and caught you quick by the wrist. “Not so fast there.”

Your breath caught in your throat when he guided you back down. He clasped your hand to his chest and peered up at your face, raising his brows, searching your gaze. 

“Am I missing somethin’ here?” he asked. 

You rose a brow back. Maybe you were feeling a bit petulant. “I don’t think so.”

Beau heard your tone loud and clear. His brows furrowed as his thumb drew back and forth over the back of your hand. Then, his eyes brightened with a realization.

“What were you trying to tell me just a minute ago?” he asked. Your lips pursed.

“Nothing,” you denied, trying to tug your hand out of his. He held firm, but his frown deepened. 

“For damn sure, that’s not your nothing face,” he said. “Level with me, please?”

The longer you chanced staring into his eyes, the quicker his earnestness got to you. You let out a sigh and relaxed back down in the bed. You laid on your side and squeezed your fingers around his hand. 

“Beau, I don’t want to put any more pressure on you than you already have.” At work, and in other areas of his life, as he’d managed to tell you. Mind you, that had come after weeks and months of letting him know, in whatever ways you could, that his deeper thoughts and worries were safe with you. 

“But I have to know,” you said. “…What are we doing here?”

Beau looked surprised by the question. It took him long enough to answer that you had to assume the worst.

“Look, I understand if you’re not ready for something serious right now,” you said, hating the shake in your voice. “But, um…if that’s what this is for you, then I’m not sure I can keep on.”

Beau frowned. “All right. Hold on.”

Again, he gently tugged you back from pulling away from him. He held your cheek this time, and he was prepared to catch the tears he saw welling up in your eyes. 

“Maybe I haven’t made myself clear. And I’m sorry, I guess that’s my fault,” he said. His thumb soothed against your cheek, but it was his smile that gave you hope. 

“I was operating under the assumption that you’re my girl… That all right with you?” he asked with his usual charm, and maybe a bit of cheek. 

A slow smile tugged at your lips, just as relief began to make you feel lighter.

“It just might be,” you quipped. That earned you his grin in return. 

Beau leaned up and drew you into a kiss, slow at first, but quickly gaining in passion. His arms slipped around you again, pulling you onto his chest, then rolling you underneath him. You squealed in surprise at the move.

He caged you between his arms bracing on either side of your head, and his knees trapped your hips. You ran your hands up his bare chest, smiling in approval at the new warmth on his skin. 

But then you stopped him short of kissing you again as something occurred to you. 

“You need to get home,” you reminded him. “Emily’s going to be waiting for you soon.”

Beau hesitated, brows furrowing because he knew you were right, but he still gave you one more deep kiss.

“Say.” He briefly parted from you. “Got any plans this morning?”

Your smile grew, as warm as your hand on his cheek. 

“Not really. It’s a Saturday with me, myself, and I,” you replied. Beau plied you with his lips, once, twice, and then burned a slow, hot path down your neck. 

“Well, I think it’s high time I introduced my daughter to my girlfriend over a short stack of pancakes,” he said. He then pulled back enough to see your face, and he asked a question with his eyes. “That is, if she’s willing.”

Your smile for him was brighter than that golden beam of sunlight, which once again hit you dead in the face and nearly blinded you. 

But from where Beau was sitting, it just managed to make your eyes shine with every shade of beauty. 

“She could be persuaded,” you said. Your smile turned teasing. “She’s also got a leaky sink that needs fixing…and quite honestly, that fridge is starting to scare me.”

Beau’s chuckle shook the bed. “Shoulda known that ask would come with a price tag. Free pancakes ain’t enough for you?”

When he dipped down for another kiss, you mischievously turned your head so he got your cheek instead. 

“Oh, now you’re playin’ hard to get?” he quipped. “I see how it is…”

You giggled as his body weight playfully threatened to crush you. But you trailed your fingers through his hair and showed him your earnestness this time. 

“Of course I want to meet your daughter, Beau. I know it hasn’t been that long but…” You bit your lip against a deeper confession, though you knew he would find it in your eyes. 

His face softened, eyes crinkling at the corners with his smile. 

“How’s this. After my shift tonight, I’ll start on fixing that wily fridge,” he offered. 

Your insides warmed like maple syrup, and you twined your arms around his neck.

“Make it tomorrow,” you said. Your eyes twinkled with mischief. “I’ve got plans for you tonight.”

AN: Aww, writing this 'lil fic made me all warm and fuzzy. 🥰 Let me know what you think!

(I also have more Soldier Boy imagines coming soon, either next week or this week, if I get impatient lol.)

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[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 13

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, major angst, kidnapping, confined spaces, violence, injuries, drowning, CPR, life-and-death situations, the fluffiest ending (If any of these warnings trigger you, stay away ⚠️🫶)

Word Count: 7.4k

A/N: We're here! Last part, babes 😘 Thank you guys so much for sticking with me on this one. I know it was another wild ride, but I appreciated your sweet, insightful, and funny comments throughout 🥹🤍

Ready? Don't forget to breathe 😉

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Chapter 13: Sure And Certain

“What’s she doing?”

With a mouthful of Donno’s Special of the Day sandwich, Beau came to stand behind a whole group of people who had gathered around a laptop screen propped up on his desk.

He threw another sandwich wrapped in paper on the desk in front of Randy, who sat comfortably in his chair and nodded a ‘thank you.’ Behind him, Jenny leaned casually against the window sill with an intensely knitted brow. Cassie and Denise, on the other hand, had grabbed themselves a set of uncomfortable, worn chairs from the break room and sat on each side of Randy, staring musingly at the screen.

“I think she’s meditating,” Denise put forth.

“No, I think she’s sleeping,” Jenny said dryly.

“I don’t know…” Cassie’s brow furrowed.

Beau frowned as he stepped forward, stealing a glance at the livestream himself. You were still lying perfectly motionless on the long metal table in the middle of the room. They knew you were alive, though. They had watched you crawl up there and lie down. Sometimes, your eyes were open. Sometimes, they were closed for long periods of time.

“She’s still doing what she’s been doing for eight hours now,” Beau huffed. Honestly, he’d be more worried if it wasn’t so damn frustrating.

“Maybe the poor thing’s in shock after everything she’s been through,” Denise suggested sympathetically.

Beau hoped she wasn’t right. Seeing you give up didn’t sit well with him. He couldn’t watch you lie there alone in the cold until there was no air left anymore.

In all honesty, he had a confession to make: He’d never watched a single of Diane’s videos to the end. He knew you’d probably watched them a thousand times, but he couldn’t do it. He had watched parts of it, sure, but never the bitter end. He didn’t know how you'd done it. He always figured you were a lot stronger than him.

But maybe you’d seen something on those videos he didn’t know but had to.

“Y/N?” Randy scoffed at Denise’s proposal with conviction and shook his head. “No, she wouldn’t give up, and I doubt Turner scared her that much. She put a screwdriver in the guy, for crying out loud,” he argued his objection. “No, she’s thinking.”

Beau hated to agree with Randy but hoped to hell he was right.

“Maybe,” Cassie mused and squinted her eyes at the screen. “I think she’s staring at the light above her.”

With narrowed eyes, everyone drew in closer to the screen and observed you.

“I think Cass is right,” Jenny said and retreated to her old position, smirking.

Beau frowned anew and flailed his arms. “Why?”

Fucking Hal Turner.

He got you with a shovel, tied your hands, hauled you back to the cabin and sedated you.

You woke with a few meager slaps across your face before groggily being dragged through the woods at night on unsteady legs. You slipped in and out of consciousness a few times, but you knew Turner wasn’t strong enough to carry you, so he had to keep you awake enough to walk, but sedated enough to not fight back.

You, however, tried to memorize and plan as much as your dazed mind possibly let you. You remembered how long you’d walked from the cabin to the bunker – about thirty minutes. You knew which direction you’d walked as you’d glanced up at the stars – north. And you knew you had hiked slightly up, but not more than twelve degrees. You remembered the faint sounds of a river splashing close by.

Most importantly, you could still feel the screwdriver tucked into your sock in your left boot.

Turner hadn’t frisked you again – big mistake.

As soon as you’d reached the spot of the supposed bunker, you frowned when Turner removed a pile of leaves, moss and dirt from the forest floor and opened the metal hatch that hid underneath.

Oh, hell no…

You weren’t getting in there. If you hadn’t known it before, you surely knew it now.

You would’ve been fine with the cabin because you knew Beau and the department would eventually find it. He’d get a list of their properties and find it. Denise had been in charge of those, and she’d been meticulous.

You would’ve been fine with an above-ground bunker, or even halfway above, too. Once the team would find the cabin, they’d know Turner and you couldn’t have gone far. They’d find the blood and test it, realizing with relief that most of it wasn’t yours. They’d know you’d be in the general area, and Beau would move heaven and earth to find you.

But this thing? They’d never fucking find you here.

Roughly, Turner shoved you down the tight metal stairway, leading to a room you knew only too well from videos. Now, you were here and saw it all for real, like glimpsing behind the scenes of a movie set.

Why couldn’t it have been the Friends set in Hollywood? Instead, you had to visit Diane Newton’s arts and crafts project.

Hal Turner cut your ties – again. And you saw it as your perfect way to escape. Again.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

With your elbows and shoulders, you shoved Turner backwards and bent down, quickly retrieving the screwdriver from your boot. You spun around and thrust it straight into his left carotid artery.

He gasped a breathless sound, his eyes growing wide and white. You let go and stepped back.

You’d never killed someone before – not like this at least.

But then Turner inhaled a deep breath of air – strained, angry, fighting. And you finally understood where the phrase white-hot rage stemmed from.

The roaring Grizzly kicked you right into your bear trap injury. With a painful scream and a searing pain, you fell to your knees and clasped your wound.

He then fled up the stairs like a rat through a sewer cover, tossing the hatch shut behind him. There was the sound of a thick lock before some shuffling followed. At least he couldn’t have done a good job on covering up the entrance. Maybe they’d find you easier this way.

Better yet, you hoped Turner would succumb to his fatal injury not too far from the hatch. If they found his body close by, they could find you too, right?

At least you’d gotten the bastard…

You wanted to scream till your lungs were depleted of all oxygen, but you didn’t have enough air for a breakdown in this bunker. You took one last deep breath to ground yourself and closed your eyes.

Then, you opened them.

The bright neon light flickered above as your eyes darted around the room. The space was sparse, concrete walls peeling in places, as though even the structure was trying to escape. You didn’t want to think too much about how long you would be trapped here.

You already knew this place by heart and what would happen if you didn’t get out.

At the edge of the corner, sat a row of rusty metal lockers. Shuffling over on your good leg, you opened the shrieking door and found that the lockers held various odds and ends – tools, cans, an assortment of chemical bottles with faded labels, and a single, cracked lightbulb resting on its side.

The other victims had received these items as well but never pieced enough of it together to escape. A few drank the chemical bottles for a quicker death out of sheer desperation. While you unfortunately couldn’t solve Diane’s little riddle either, you swore to yourself poison would never be a last resort.

You’d seen those deaths – they had neither been quick nor painless.

You found a first-aid kit as well and lowered yourself to the cold ground, bandaging your ankle. As you tightened the bandage to stop the blood flow, your eyes glanced up the shelves.

Your breath hitched. In the back of your mind, a vague memory from your 7th grade science teacher stirred – something about pressure, something about triggering a chain reaction. You tried to push it away but the thought wouldn’t leave. Maybe an escape was possible after all. There were things you could use – you just needed to figure out how.

The jar of white powder caught your eye. It was too fine to be salt. The label was half-scratched off, but you could make out the word "sulfate." Next to it, a small container of copper wiring lay scattered across the shelf – tiny, thin strands coiled tightly like little snakes, their sharp ends glinting in the harsh neon light.

You pulled at your sleeves nervously, staring at the broken lightbulb once more. If you twisted it carefully, the filament inside would snap. Maybe. Then there was the sharp wire… You let the idea float in your mind for just a moment longer before shaking it off.

And there was that other thing. Something buried deeper in the corner, an oily rag, half-soaked in a pungent smell you couldn’t quite place. You made a mental note. They weren’t much, but they were something.

If you could just piece it all together…

Tiredly, you heaved yourself onto the large metal table in the middle of the room. It was harsh, cold, and uncomfortable, but it was all you had. You lied down on your back and stared at the ceiling, at the flickering neon light above you. Then, you closed your eyes again.

Think, think, think…

For hours, Beau had now stared at the grainy footage, watching your unmoving form. The neon light flickered overhead, casting long shadows against the cold, cement walls of the bunker. His hands were trembling as he gripped the armrests of his chair, his body taut with the weight of helplessness.

The others had left his office a while ago, scrambling to find a way to get you out. There was a search going on, a team of skilled rescuers turning over every stone in the general vicinity of the cabin. Beau knew you couldn’t be far from there. And still, he feared he wouldn’t find you in time.

Truthfully, he knew the only one that could get you out was you. If you just stopped lying there…

Nothing. Not even a twitch. What the hell were you thinking about?

You were alive. He knew you were, reminding himself of that fact on an hourly basis. But for all the good it did, it didn’t matter. The silence on the feed was more suffocating than any sound.

But then…

A subtle movement. A shift in the shadows, so slight that at first, he thought it was just his eyes playing tricks on him.

His heart skipped.

Your fingers twitched, just enough to catch his attention. And then, slowly, agonizingly, you dragged yourself up, struggling to sit. He watched the quiet shuffle of your body across the concrete floor. You were alive. You were still fighting.

“Guys!” his gruff voice called loudly for the cavalry, but he didn’t wait for them to flood into his office.

Beau leaned forward in his chair, holding his breath. His heart hammered in his chest as you lifted your head, your eyes flicking briefly to the camera – aware. You knew he was watching.

Your movements were shaky, too weak for anything swift, but they were purposeful. You scanned the room with desperation. The broken lightbulb in the rusty locker, jagged glass fragments scattered on the shelf, caught your attention.

You reached for it.

Beau’s stomach twisted. No, don’t…

But it was too late. You pressed the sharp edge against the skin of your palm, wincing with the effort as blood began to bead at the surface. His breath hitched, fingers curling into fists at his sides. The blood flowed in slow, steady streams, painting your hand.

You didn’t flinch.

You moved with a practiced precision, grimly intent. With shaky fingers, you scooped some blood on your pointer finger and pressed the pad to the wall, your arm trembling as you began to write.

Seismograph.

Beau’s eyes locked onto the word, his brow furrowing.

Seismograph?

You were so weak. You could barely hold yourself up, and yet, you were still thinking. Still trying. Then you turned to the wall once more, collecting more blood on your finger as you struggled to form the second word.

3 hours.

You stopped then, your body slumping against the wall, too drained to write any more. You didn’t need to. The message was clear.

The feed cut to static for a brief moment, the camera buzzing with distortion, before it returned to the silent, unchanging image of your still form against the wall. But Beau wasn’t looking at you anymore.

His mind raced, blood thundering in his ears. Seismograph. 3 hours.

A tremor ran through him – an earthquake in his chest.

Seismograph. You were giving him a clue. Something seismic. A signal of some kind. His gut twisted. He was supposed to know what it meant.

3 hours. What did that mean? Three hours before something? Three hours after something?

He didn’t have time to analyze it. You were sending him a lifeline. And whatever it meant, he was going to find you.

“What’s going on?” Jenny was the first to thunder into his office, her heart beating fast in her ribcage. She came to stand behind Beau and glanced at the screen, her brow knitting at the crimson words on the concrete wall in the same way his had. “Seismograph. 3 hours,” the blonde read aloud. “What does it mean?”

Cassie stood quietly in the doorframe, listening and thinking. “What is in those lockers?”

“I don’t know. We never found a bunker before, and Diane sure as hell ain’t telling us,” Beau huffed frustratedly.

“But there are chemicals of some kind,” Jenny pointed out, squinting her eyes at the laptop.

“Maybe she’s building a bomb,” Cassie proposed.

Beau pondered the theory for a beat. Then, he nodded. “We already know the area of the bunker. We could probably find her exact location through the tremors.”

“With a seismograph,” Jenny finished the thought. “Well, let’s hope she doesn’t blow herself up first.”

Beau hoped that, too. He didn’t even know you possessed bomb-making skills, but he figured you hadn’t known that fact about yourself either. This was by far not a thoroughly planned undertaking.

“Alright, get a damn seismograph here. I don’t care where you get it or what it costs. We’ve got three hours,” Beau barked his orders with a racing heart.

Your message had just bought him time, and he wasn’t going to waste it. You were still alive. He could still save you. And he wasn’t going to stop until he did.

Your breath came in short, labored gasps as you hunched over the crude metal table in the dark, sterile bunker. The faint hum of the camera feeding into the livestream echoed through the silence, the red light blinking softly as its lens captured your every movement, broadcasting your quiet panic.

You knew Beau was watching. They all probably were. You could almost feel their eyes on you, their silent judgment, their hope that this would work. They’d see the sweat glistening on your brow, the faint tremor in your hands as you worked on your little science fair project.

But it wasn’t fear that made you shake now. It was the cold certainty that time was running out.

You carefully twisted the wire around the small, makeshift device you’d cobbled together from the limited supplies at your disposal. Every movement was deliberate, every breath controlled, even as your mind raced a marathon. You lifted the device to your ear, listening for the faint click as you tightened the final screw. Done.

The one thing they had to get right was the seismic readings.

The bomb was crude – imperfect – but it was all you had. The plan was simple: blow the door open if you could, cause a seismic tremor, and hope the team could triangulate your location. They would track the explosion on the seismograph, find your coordinates, and come for you.

If you were lucky.

Maybe you should leave another message behind for him. In those hours you had lain on the table and pondered, you had thought about your escape. You had also thought about various torturous ways to kill Diane. You had celebrated your little win against Turner. But most of all, you had thought about Beau.

Simple things. The color of his pine green eyes. The smell of his leathery cologne. The sound of his hearty laugh. The warmth of his large hands. Would you ever see, hear, or feel those things again?

A tear streaked your cheek that you swiftly wiped away. Sobbing would cost you too much goddamn air. You couldn’t afford it.

You stole one last glance at the camera, your face a grim mask of resolve. Then you moved quickly, setting the device in place. You looked at the door on top of the steps – solid metal, bolted shut, impossible to open without the right tools.

Tools you didn’t have.

You hurried down the stairs and pushed the metal table onto its side, using it as a shield from the blast as you hunched down low behind it. It had been a little over three hours. It was time. With a sharp breath, you pushed the button of the remote detonator.

The explosion hit like a fist. The sound was deafening, but muffled in the confined space. Your ears rang as the shockwave slammed into you, throwing you back against the cold, unforgiving concrete wall. Your head spun, and for a moment, everything went black.

Then came the tremor.

It rippled through the ground like a violent pulse. The bunker groaned – metal creaking, concrete cracking. The lights flickered and went out, plunging you into near-total darkness, save for the dim emergency glow above the door.

And then, with a deep, bone-rattling crack, something shifted above you.

You scrambled to your feet, disoriented. What the hell was that?

A series of sharp, cracking sounds echoed from the ceiling, followed by a wet, muffled splintering. Your breath caught in your throat as a large root – gnarled and thick as a limb – suddenly pierced through the bunker’s ceiling, splintering the metal and concrete. The roots of a large tree slithered down – a slow, creeping thing – and it didn’t stop. It tore through the ceiling like it had been waiting for this moment, its jagged edges scraping against the walls.

And then – water. Cold, relentless water began pouring in, cascading through the new hole in the roof, spilling across the floor in an uncontrolled flood.

Fuck.

Your heart pounded wildly as you stumbled backward, the water already rising around your ankles, creeping steadily toward your knees. You could hear the steady drip of water splashing against the cold, metal floor, each drop sending a ripple through your chest.

The livestream camera remained on, the blinking red light still steady, but your mind was running a mile a minute – panic rising like a tidal wave. You had no time. You had to move, had to act. But the water was already rising faster than you could think. The air was thick, the walls seemed to be closing in on you, and the roots above groaned ominously as if the earth itself was about to swallow you whole.

You ran toward the door, your boots splashing through the growing puddle. But aside from causing a giant hole in the ceiling, the bomb hadn’t done enough damage to escape. The root’s tendrils were still creeping down from above, twisting around the ceiling. You could hear the scrape of it, its thick fingers reaching into the dark corners of the room.

The sound of the water filled your ears as it surged up around your waist. You stumbled, falling to one knee as the icy liquid engulfed you. Your chest tightened, panic clawing at your throat.

It was too much. The explosion, the quake, the roots, and now the rising water – everything was converging at once. A part of you knew this was it. You wouldn’t get out. They wouldn’t get here in time to save you. But a small flicker of hope was still alive in your heart.

You clutched the camera’s wire, the blinking red light still visible in the murk, as if it was the last lifeline you had left.

“Please,” you breathed, although you knew they couldn’t hear you, but your voice was barely audible over the rush of water anyways. “Please, find me.”

The woods were dense, the trees thick with fog and shadows. Beau ran through the underbrush, his boots pounding against the damp earth, the scent of pine and wet leaves filling his lungs. Sweat stung his green eyes, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he pushed his body beyond its limits. His heart thundered in his chest, not from the exertion, but from the terror building inside him, growing with each passing second.

He’d found it.

The seismograph had done its job. The tremor from the explosion had sent ripples through the earth, and in those ripples, he’d pinpointed the location. There was no time to think, no time to second-guess. He didn’t know how much time you had left, but the second the signal went off and the icy water of a nearby river had wound its way into the confined space, rising like a tide as it flooded the bunker, he’d known it could only be minutes till you took your last breath.

Beau’s mind reeled at the thought.

He stumbled over a fallen log, his eyes never leaving the ground ahead of him. He was so close. It had to be here. He had seconds to make it. He knew it had to be deep. The bunker was buried beneath the forest floor, hidden like a trap, and there was only one way in: a hatch maybe, barely visible among the trees, the earth heavy with moss and years of neglect. He had to get there – now.

He could hear the team searching all around him, crying with calls of your name that echoed through the trees. As he stared up through the tops of the towering pines, he could see the North Star twinkling brightly above him. His heart twinged. His gaze dropped and then landed on the far beam of his flashlight. Something flickered in the distance, just a few yards away from him, buried in the moss.

He stumbled back onto his feet, his trembling hands picking up a small, golden band. His chest seized.

The ring.

His ears picked up the babbling sounds of water. The river was close, only a few feet away. That had to be it. You’d left him another sign.

Grabbing his flashlight, his hands hastily searched the ground. His fingers brushed a thick patch of bramble, and then – there. His breath halted. Metal.

The hatch.

He skidded to a stop, his hands shaking as he dropped to his knees and cleared the leaves and brush away. The metal was a bit busted and bent out of shape, probably from the bomb, but the bolt that kept it tightly shut was still in tact. His fingers fumbled for the lock, every second stretching longer than the last.

“It’s here!” Beau yelled loudly, calling the others for help. “She’s here!”

His mind kept circling back to you. You were trapped down there. Trapped and drowning.

I’m coming, darlin’. Hold on.

Finally, his fingers found the latch, and with a metallic groan, the hatch creaked open.

The stench of damp earth hit him first – the cold, stagnant air of a place that had been shut off from the world for too long. His flashlight flickered as he shined it down into the narrow opening. The steps below were steep, the darkness absolute. He could hear the distant drip of water, and with it, a rising sense of urgency.

He didn’t waste time. Without a second thought, he grabbed the flashlight and began to descend, the metal of the hatch scraping against the edges of the door as he pulled it wide open. His breath caught as he stepped into the narrow stairwell.

The moment he hit the bottom, the sound of rushing water was unmistakable.

The tunnel was flooded. The water was rising fast, covering the floor in murky, black waves. The small concrete room at the base of the stairs had become a watery tomb, the level inching toward the ceiling.

He shouted your name, his voice crackling in the damp air.

But there was no answer.

Beau pushed forward, his heart in his throat, eyes scanning every inch of the flooded room. Your presence was all he could feel – your spirit, your strength, your last message. He had to find you.

A sudden thud echoed through the chamber, the faint sound of something – or someone – shifting beneath the water.

Beau’s eyes locked on the back wall of the room, where the water was thickest, swirling around a pile of debris. His mind screamed. The seconds were melting away, and he couldn’t afford to waste a single one.

The wall was crumbling under the pressure, but the thing that struck him wasn’t just the damage. It was the stillness. There was no movement. No air.

His pulse spiked as he waded through the rising water, kicking through the murk with his boots, moving faster now, hands trembling as he shoved aside debris.

Please, please, please…

And then, beneath the surface, a hand – limp, floating like a ghost. Beau lunged, his fingers brushing against your wrist, cold and unyielding.

He cried your name again, his voice hoarse with panic as he pulled you to him, cradling your body against his chest.

Your skin was ice-cold. Your hair matted against your face, your body limp in his arms. You were unconscious – or worse.

Don’t you dare be dead. Don’t you dare.

Beau’s breath came in harsh bursts, his hands fumbling against you, trying to find any sign of life. The water was rising too fast.

He wasn’t going to lose you. Not like this.

With a single, desperate motion, he hoisted you into his arms. He didn’t stop. His feet pounded the water-soaked concrete as he bolted back toward the stairs, his lungs burning, the world blurring around him.

Get out. Get out.

He could feel the water rising behind him, flooding the room with the force of a tide. He didn’t know if the two of you would make it. He didn’t know if he could make it.

But he was going to try. He was going to fight like hell to keep you alive.

The hatch was there, just ahead, the only way out. He pushed harder, faster, as the water reached his knees, then his waist. Every breath was a battle. Every second felt like an eternity.

With one final push, he reached the top of the stairs, stumbling out into the fresh air, gasping for breath, his legs weak beneath him. He laid you on the ground, your limp body draped across the earth.

Beau’s hands were shaking as he knelt beside you. “Darlin’,” he whispered, shaking you gently.

Nothing.

Tears blurred his vision as he pressed his ear to your chest, listening for any sign of life.

A faint, fragile beat.

You were still with him.

He could barely breathe, panic threatening to swallow him whole, but he knew he had to keep it together.

He leaned over your body, his hands moving quickly. “Come on, darlin’. Come on…” His voice cracked as he positioned his hands, interlocking his fingers over your sternum. He gave two hard compressions, the sound of his palms meeting your chest too loud in the thick silence.

Still nothing. Your skin was frozen, your lips tinged blue.

His breath hitched, and he started again – one, two, three…

His heart hammered in his chest as he leaned down, pinching your nose and sealing his mouth over yours. He breathed into you, feeling the faint rise of your chest beneath him.

Please, please, don’t leave me.

He gave you another breath, then returned to the chest compressions – one, two, three…

Time seemed to stretch on endlessly, each moment more desperate than the last. His hands moved faster, his fingers slick with water and sweat as he pressed into you again and again. He wasn’t thinking. He couldn’t.

He hadn’t even taken note of the crowd that had gathered around him, watching the dire spectacle.

Finally – after what felt like a lifetime – your body jerked beneath his hands. You gasped, a harsh, ragged breath, and Beau nearly collapsed in relief. He cradled your head gently, his green eyes searching your face as you coughed weakly, water spilling from your mouth.

“You’re okay. You’re okay,” he breathed into your hair, his voice thick with emotion and eyes filled with tears as he kissed your crown repeatedly, his hold tight around your body.

You opened your eyes, just a sliver at first, and then you blinked, your hand weakly reaching for his cheek before it dropped to his chest.

“Beau…” you whispered, your voice barely a breath before you let out the first few sobs and coiled against him.

“It’s alright. I’m here.”

And for the first time in days, Beau let himself breathe as he steadied your trembling frame in his embrace.

Hospitals weren’t your favorite thing in the world. In fact, you had pretty much avoided them your whole life. You’d screamed your way through your tonsils surgery when you were five. You refused to get your broken arm cast when you were fourteen. But there was one thing you had always cherished during your involuntary stays:

Pudding.

Randy was the first person that stopped by early in the morning. You didn’t know if that decision had been a collusive one, agreed upon by the whole team, but you were grateful for the visit – more grateful when he brought you your sweet treat.

Something had been going on, though, while you were locked up – you could tell. As you’d clung to Beau’s chest last night in the forest, you caught Randy in the crowd around you before he ducked his head and retreated into the shadows. Your heart broke at the sight.

Beau didn’t leave your side, though, even riding in the ambulance with you while reassuring you throughout. He held your hand tightly, but his shoulders were stiff. And when they wheeled you out of the emergency room, the doors closed in front of him. You hadn’t seen or heard from him since.

You’d only slept for about five hours, but it had been a deep slumber. You had been out like a light. But as soon as you woke, you felt the aches of your body. There wasn’t a single limb or organ that didn’t groan in pain. Your ankle was the worst, though – the doctors told you you were lucky you got to keep it by the degree of infection it had suffered. The murky water of the river surely hadn’t helped cleaning it.

Sepsis, hypothermia, drowning, and lifelong trauma were just a few of the things you had to recover from.

There was also the dissolution of your marriage – you’d finally found the right term. Not widowed, not divorced – dissolved.

Randy stayed for three hours, and you had an honest and long talk. Oddly enough, being in his presence didn’t feel strange anymore. It felt familiar.

While your brain had adjusted, your heart remained steadfast. Randy had recognized it too and conceded. When he left your bedside, you sent him a smile with tears brimming in your eyes.

A chapter closed. A song ended. But your heart was at peace.

Beau’s heart pounded furiously in his chest as he stood glued outside your hospital room. Every laugh that echoed through the door felt like a gut punch.

Randy had asked to speak to you first. Beau had granted him the request – not that it had been really up to him. But Randy had been gracious last night, and the sheriff knew it couldn’t have been easy.

Beau had arrived at the hospital around noon, only to find you and Randy were still talking. Not only talking but laughing. While his heart murmured a tiny bit, he supposed it was a good sign. Who said you had to throw plates or the occasional vase at each other?

Twenty minutes later, Randy finally exited and ran straight into Beau around the corner, who had leaned against the wall and tried to answer the many nosy questions of the group chat. He didn’t know why the hell Cassie had invited him into this one…

“Oh, hey.” Randy chuckled lightly as he bumped into Beau, eyeing him with a suspicious brow. There was the flash of a smirk on his face.

Eager, are we? Beau could read Randy thoughts, even though his former friend refrained from saying them out loud.

“Hey.” Beau’s voice was low. He swallowed thickly as he tried his hardest not to avert his gaze to the linoleum flooring. “How is she?”

“In good spirits,” Randy replied but then paused. “For now. I think the morphine’s kicking in.”

“So, uhm–”

Beau didn’t know where that sentence would end. Flat-out asking Randy how your conversation went would’ve just been pathetically nosy – and rude. His mama had raised him better than that.

“I’m going back to Houston,” Randy still answered the unasked question.

“With, uhm–” Your name hung on the tip of Beau’s tongue before he bit down, noting Randy’s shaking head.

“Don’t push it.”

“Right…” Beau smacked his lips and cleared his throat, his hand scratching the nape of his neck. “So, what about you and me, huh? I know right now’s a stretch, but maybe down the road we could grab a beer?”

Randy’s lips pursed at first – unsure. But after a beat passed, he nodded slightly. “Maybe, yeah.” He hesitated. “Hit me up if you’re ever in Houston, alright?”

“Yeah, alright.” Beau’s lips twitched to a smile of surprise, but he still wished there was more he could do, more he could offer. It didn’t feel enough. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

Randy gave him a tight-lipped nod and patted him on the shoulder as he passed him. “You too.”

Beau watched Randy angle towards the elevators before exhaling a deep breath. Green eyes then drifted to your door. His heart was both elated and heavy. Questions circled in his mind.

What now?

The case was as good as over. Would you leave now? Where would you go? Beau knew your home was in Houston. Should he move back there, too? Would you even want him to? He’d broken up with you. Again. Were you still mad at him for it? He had tried to restrain himself last night, not knowing where the two of you stood. He held your hand in his, even though it was your whole body he wanted to keep holding in his arms.

You’d chosen no one. Maybe this was a day of break-ups for you.

Beau’s knuckles softly knocked on your door before he entered. Unsurely, he stood until your eyes glanced up and found his. A smile rose on your lips.

“Hey, there you are. You just missed Randy,” you said.

At a loss for words, Beau stared at you for a moment, his heart hammering in his chest. You still looked pretty rough – hooked up to IVs, your face and arms covered in bruises and cuts. But at least you were here – alive. There was some color back in your cheeks. Until a few hours ago, he wasn’t sure he’d ever get to see you again.

“Oh, uh, passed him in the hall,” Beau finally said and obnoxiously cleared his throat. “Said he was going back to Houston.”

“Yeah, he told me. I gave him my apartment,” you said, your voice a casual melody as you ignored the tension that was building between you two.

Beau’s brows shot up. “You gave him your place?”

“Least I could do. I sold his home.”

“Where are you gonna stay?”

“Oh, I don’t know yet. Guess I’m kinda homeless now. Again,” you said and hid the hint of a smile. You could see his wires were crossed.

“Hmm,” he hummed and shifted on his heels.

“Thank you,” you then said softly, trying to fight the tears that pricked your eyes. You swallowed heavily. “For saving me, you know? Bringing me back to life…”

“Don’t mention it,” he replied with a tight-lipped smile and a shake of his head, although a lump formed in the back of his throat at the haunting image of you, limb in his arms. He never wanted to see something like this again. He never wanted to feel that crippling, numbing fear ever again.

You snorted slightly at his understatement, fumbling with your fingers in your lap. “Feel like I have to. They told me you gave me CPR for three minutes straight. They said I was pretty much gone.”

“They’re exaggerating. It wasn’t that long,” he brushed off. “‘Sides, I wasn’t gonna let you die on my watch.”

“Like I said, thanks,” you reiterated and sent him a smile. “So, why are you standing so far away like I’m radioactive?”

Beau pursed his lips. “Well, you are kinda my kryptonite, darlin’.” He scratched the back of his neck, his boots still not moving closer. “Don’t really know where we stand, y’know? I mean, last time… that morning… I guess I’m tryna say I’m sorry for puttin’ you through that. So, on a scale from one to ten, how mad are you at me right now?”

“Well, if you put it like that… zero.” You grinned teasingly. “Hard to stay mad at you, considering you’ve saved my life, you know? I’m willing to forget your momentary stupidity. Well, if it really was momentary…”

“Oh, it was,” Beau confirmed, your heart expanding with a breath of relief. “Going with an insanity defense here. So… what does that mean?”

Musingly, you bit down on your lip. “I don’t know. Guess you’ll have to come closer and find out.”

Beau’s lips hiked to a wide, genuine smile for the first time in days. His feet began moving toward you.

Enjoying the warm rays of sunlight on your face, you exhaled blissfully as you sat outside the trailer, leaning comfortably back in your chair.

“There ya go – one extra black, extra strong cup of joe.” Beau handed you your favorite mug, his pine green eyes drifting to your injured leg, propped up on a wooden stool in front of you.

“Thank you,” you replied with a smile and practically inhaled the black liquid, its warmth filling you.

“How’s the ankle? That stool looks uncomfortable,” he noted, brushing his beard. His head tilted. “You need a pillow? Imma grab you one. Anything you need, darlin’. Officially retired since yesterday, you know? I’m here all day. Just say the word, and I’ll make it happen.”

Amused, you laughed a little. “I don’t need a pillow. The ankle’s fine. Just sit down next to me and enjoy the sun, will you?”

“It’s freezing.”

“I like how the snow twinkles in the sun,” you said and patted the chair next to you. With a groan, Beau sat down, wrapping his suede jacket a little tighter around himself while you sat cozily draped in the Sherpa jacket you had stolen from his closet. It was big and wide and warm and smelled heavenly like him. “‘Sides, I have a pretty nice jacket to keep me warm.” He frowned a little at you, but an amused smile twitched on his lips. “You said I should make myself comfortable – anything I wanted.”

“Didn’t think you’d raid my closet,” he huffed playfully.

“Hey, I only came here with a tiny carry-on.”

You’d been released from the hospital last night after spending a full week there. In the meantime, Beau had decided to hang up the sheriff’s hat, handing the badge off to Jenny – you’d fully agreed with the decision. You knew his heart hadn’t been in it for a while now.

He’d also asked you to move in.

And moreover, you’d finished your last reports and then handed in your resignation at the FBI. One serial killer kidnapping was enough for you. Diane had showed you where your limit was, and that was okay. You looked forward to a quiet life with the man beside you. It was its own adventure. God knows Diane’s life wouldn’t be as happy and peaceful behind bars.

Neither of you had spoken to her since your rescue. Sheriff Hoyt had handled all things on that end. By the amount of evidence they had to go through, Ted even surmised her trial wouldn’t start until three years from now. Until then, Beau and you had promised each other you wouldn’t waste another thought on her.

Well, you supposed you had to waste some thoughts on her. A big publisher from New York had already approached you about a book deal – and the money was more than good.

“Guess we’ll have to go down to Houston to get your stuff once you’re back on your feet,” Beau said.

Musingly, you scrunched your nose and hummed. “Not sure that’s necessary. It’s not gonna fit in the trailer anyways – not with your extensive closet.”

Amused, Beau pursed his lips and chuckled. He rubbed a hand through his beard. “Yeah, I was thinking about that… Maybe we should move. Get a bigger place, you know?”

“Do they make bigger Airstreams?” you murmured teasingly into your mug, cocking an eyebrow.

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek. “I was thinking more along the lines of a house. A ranch, maybe.”

“What about a houseboat?”

“Nah, that wouldn’t work with the kids. Try keeping a toddler in a life jacket all day,” Beau quipped, shaking his head. He didn’t even seem to notice what had slipped out of his mouth.

Your brow creased. “Kids?”

His wide eyes found yours, mouth opening and closing. He let out nervous breath. “Yeah, uh, something else I wanted to talk to you about…”

“Are you pregnant?” you joked and snorted into your coffee. Then, your brow furrowed. “Wait, am I? Did the doctor say something to you? Why would you smuggle tequila into my room if you knew?”

“No one’s pregnant, darlin’…” Beau laughed softly, his hand reaching out to cover your thigh. “I was just thinking maybe more a down-the-line kinda thing. In the, uh, near future, you know?”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “Well, uhm, I didn’t think that was on table. We’ve never talked about it. I mean, I honestly didn’t think you’d want to…”

“Kinda gettin’ tired of people always assuming things about me,” Beau retorted with a little smirk. He squeezed your thigh. “Kids are on the table, darlin’.”

“Huh.”

Clearing his throat, Beau leaned forward in his seat. “You know, I had a little chat with Randy…”

You scoffed in surprise. “He actually told you?”

“Bigger question is, why didn’t you tell me?” Beau’s brow raised almost scoldingly. He was a pretty great dad.

“Honestly? Because it’s none of your business. That was between me and my then-late husband,” you replied with a sharpness that matched his look – there was a playfulness lying underneath, though. You both knew the other had a point. You exhaled a long sigh. “Look, that was four years ago. A lot has changed since then. I haven’t really thought about it since Randy’s funeral. Then Mexico happened. God knows we were nowhere near ready for a conversation like this…”

You gave him a shrug of your shoulders and sipped on your coffee.

“So, you don’t want kids?”

“Do you?”

Beau chuckled lightly, his fingers tapping the chair’s armrest. “Look, I’m already retiring from the job – I don’t wanna retire from life,” he said. “Sure, for a long time, I wasn’t thinking about another kid, but Emily’s almost off to college. Would be nice to feel needed again, do it all over… I don’t wanna fish every day till I drop.”

You snorted a laugh.

“So? What d’you say?”

Biting down on your lip, you glanced behind you at the Airstream. Then you found his green eyes and grinned. “Yeah, I think we’ll definitely need a bigger place. Maybe something between a houseboat and a ranch?”

Beau could barely contain his smile but played along. “And what would that be?”

It ended up being a lake house. Beau fished every morning. You watched him and the sunrise from the window as you wrote your novel.

The baby arrived by next Christmas.

THE END

I think reader would be unstoppable in an Escape Room 😂

I so hope you enjoyed this last part, loves! What a wonderful journey it's been. Thank you to every single one of you from the bottom of my heart 🤍

And PS: I do have a little future one-shot in mind for them 😉

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