#big sky

[justjensenanddean]

Jensen Ackles as Beau Arlen BIG SKY: Deadly Trails (2022) | 3.01 – “Do You Love An Apple”

[immastealurkneecaps]

pretty boy

Jensen Ackles as Beau Arlen in Big Sky: 3x13 That Old Feeling

[zepskies]

Hiiii 👋🏻

A question for you. What's in your opinion the difference between Dean, Ben and Beau? And who do you like the most? 👀

Hi there, anon! 💜

Ooh good question... I think my thoughts on this'll be best represented through a little diagram:

In each bubble you'll see their character traits listed, and the ones they have in common is where they intersect! 💜❤️💚

As for who I like the most?

Ooh I can't decide on that. Dean has lived in my heart the longest, but I absolutely love Beau too...and have a lot of fun writing for SB/Ben! lol Though, here's who I've written for the most (so far):

Dean

Soldier Boy/Ben

Beau

Hope this all answers your question!~

[winchesterdreamgirl88]

Under the Spotlight

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Summary: You have been Jensen's assistant for a few years and during a convention you guys have to share a bed and feelings are revealed.

Word Counts: 1127

Warnings: Allusions to smut

A/n: I feel like my stories are finally getting better and people are liking them more! I will make a part 2 of what happens next if people want. Feedback is appreciated:)

You'd been Jensen Ackles' assistant for two years now, and if you were being honest, your feelings for him were more complicated than they should be. Working behind the scenes of conventions, handling his schedule, answering his fan mail, and making sure he was always at the right place at the right time — you'd gotten to know him better than anyone, save for his family. And, despite your best efforts to keep things professional, there was an undeniable chemistry between the two of you.

You had always kept a respectful distance, knowing he had just gone through a very public divorce, and you didn’t want to make things harder for him. But tonight... tonight was different.

The two of you had flown out to a convention in New Orleans, and due to unforeseen circumstances, there had been a mix-up with the hotel accommodations. There were no extra rooms available, so Jensen had offered to share his room with you — a situation that made you nervous, but you couldn't refuse.

By the time you arrived at the hotel, both of you were exhausted from the long flight and the packed schedule. Jensen’s charming smile, though, never faltered. He had that way about him — always so easygoing, making everyone feel comfortable around him, despite the emotional weight he carried from his divorce.

You checked in, got the key, and headed to the room. It was a spacious suite with a king-sized bed, which in hindsight seemed far too small for two adults, especially considering the unspoken tension that had been building for months.

Jensen opened the door, and you both stepped inside. He immediately collapsed on the couch with a groan. "Man, I’m beat. You don’t realize how draining these things are until you’ve been on your feet for twelve hours."

You nodded, trying not to let your eyes linger too long on the way his shirt clung to his chest, the way his jeans stretched just right. You’d always known Jensen was attractive — how could you not? But right now, in the quiet of the hotel room, the usual banter and crowds were replaced with the rawness of two people alone together, and the silence felt heavier than it should.

"I'm going to take a quick shower," Jensen said, sitting up on the couch and pulling his shoes off. "Feel free to relax."

You smiled politely, nodding, and quickly busied yourself with organizing some notes on the desk. But your thoughts were elsewhere. You couldn't stop wondering what it would feel like to let your guard down — to not worry about the boundaries of being his assistant. To just... be a woman.

Minutes passed, and you heard the water turn on in the bathroom. The sound of his shower only added to the growing tension in the room. You tried not to imagine what he looked like in there — tried not to think about the way he smelled, the warmth of his skin. But your mind kept betraying you.

Finally, the sound of the shower stopped, and a moment later, Jensen emerged from the bathroom, a towel around his waist, his chest still glistening from the steam. His messy hair only added to the allure, and you had to turn away, pretending to focus on the notes in front of you.

"I’ll be done in a minute," he said with a grin, as if nothing unusual was happening. But you couldn’t shake the heat that suddenly filled the room, a feeling that was too close to desire.

"You... want to watch something?" he offered, already heading for his suitcase, pulling out some clothes.

You nodded quickly, trying to sound casual. "Sure, whatever you want."

As he changed into a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, you settled on the bed, careful to stay on your side. The bed seemed so much smaller now, and every inch of space felt like a boundary you couldn’t cross — but there was no denying that something between the two of you had shifted.

After a few minutes, Jensen finally climbed into bed next to you, both of you keeping to your respective sides, as if the distance would somehow make things easier.

For a while, you both stayed quiet, watching the TV, the only sound being the faint hum of the air conditioning. But you couldn't stop noticing the way his arm brushed against yours occasionally, how his scent filled the room. And despite all the unspoken words, all the "I'm just his assistant" thoughts in your head, you could feel him getting closer — almost as if he was waiting for you to make a move.

Then, out of nowhere, Jensen’s voice broke the silence. “You ever think about how weird it is? Being so close to someone, but never really… crossing that line?”

Your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t a direct confession, but it felt like it.

You turned your head to look at him, his green eyes flicking to yours. There was a flicker of something in them — something more than friendship, more than professionalism. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned back against the pillows, one arm behind his head, his gaze never leaving yours. "I don’t know," he said with a shrug, though his expression was anything but casual. "Sometimes I feel like there’s this tension between us. Like we’re both just waiting for the right moment."

Your breath caught in your throat. Was he talking about what you thought he was? You didn’t know how to answer, but you felt the words rising in your chest. Say something. Do something.

Before you could stop yourself, you found yourself closing the space between the two of you, your hand reaching for his. Jensen didn’t pull away. In fact, he leaned forward slightly, his eyes searching yours for permission.

And in that moment, all the years of being just his assistant — of staying professional, of holding back — dissolved.

You kissed him. Gently at first, then with more urgency, as if the weight of everything unspoken had to be released in that single moment. Jensen’s hands were on your back, pulling you closer, the heat of his skin burning through the thin fabric of your clothes.

For the first time since you’d started working with him, it didn’t feel like there was any distance between you. It didn’t feel like he was someone you had to be professional with. It felt right.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and tangled in the sheets, Jensen’s smile was soft, but there was no mistaking the desire in his eyes.

"Yeah," he murmured, his voice low, "I think this is the right moment."

And that was all you needed to hear.

[lightdancingwords]

Second Chances - Part Seven of ?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N Female reader Series Summary: A chance meeting in a grocery store brings a second chance for you and for Beau. The only thing standing in your way are your respective pasts... and a tiny little roadblock. Word Count: 4,458 Tags/Warnings: A bit of angst, light fluff, pregnancy, hospital/medical care & stay A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! I couldn't resist--I gotta have me some Beau while writing Dean! This is a brand new story of Beau and female reader!

I also couldn't help it! I simply had to get this chapter out! Divider: credit to @sweetmelodygraphics

Chapter Seven: The Waiting Game

Y/N pulled into the parking lot of Big Sky General, her heart pounding in her chest. The harsh lights from the emergency room entrance cast a harsh glow over the pavement as she hurried to park the car. Eliza sat in her car seat in the back, her wide eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings.

“It’s okay, baby,” Y/N whispered, unbuckling her daughter with trembling hands. She pressed a kiss to Eliza’s forehead, her voice more for her own reassurance than her daughter’s. “Mommy’s here.”

She lifted Eliza, grabbed the diaper bag slung over her shoulder along with her purse, and rushed inside. The stark, antiseptic smell hit her immediately, and low murmur of voices filling the air. The sight of Jenny Hoyt, standing near the nurses’ station in her deputy’s uniform, brought a wave of relief and dread all at once.

“Deputy Hoyt?” Y/N asked, her voice tight as she approached.

Jenny turned, her expression softening when she saw Y/N and the toddler in her arms. “You must be Y/N,” she said, stepping forward. “You made it.”

“What’s going on? How is he?” Y/N asked, her words tumbling out in a rush. She tightened her grip on Eliza, who buried her face against her mother’s neck, clearly sensing her unease.

Jenny’s face was serious, but her voice was calm. “He’s still in surgery. The doctors are doing everything they can.”

Y/N felt her knees weaken, and she clutched Eliza tighter, her breath catching. “Surgery? Jenny, what happened?” The worry made her forget any sense of propriety when it came to Jenny’s name. She had just met the deputy but it didn’t matter. Beau was in crisis. Manners would matter later, when she knew he was okay.

Jenny hesitated, then sighed. “It was a domestic disturbance. Beau went in to de-escalate, and it was working… until the guy panicked. They struggled, and the gun went off. Beau took the hit.”

“Oh my God,” Y/N whispered, tears filling her eyes. “He—he’s going to be okay, right?”

Jenny reached out, resting a hand on Y/N’s arm. “He’s tough. If anyone can get through this, it’s Beau.”

Y/N nodded, trying to focus on that thought, but the worry clawed at her. She took a shaky breath and looked at Jenny. “How… how did you know to call me?”

Jenny’s expression softened. “You’re listed as his secondary emergency contact. His parents are first, but they’re still in Texas.”

Y/N blinked, the weight of Jenny’s words sinking in. “I’m his emergency contact?” she echoed, stunned. They’d just been dating for a few months…. Surely he would’ve picked his ex-wife or even his daughter. How could Y/N matter that much? Her breath caught again, her heart clenching at the beginning of the realization of just how much he cared about Y/N.

Jenny nodded. “He wanted to make sure someone close to him here knew, just in case. He didn’t want you or Eliza left in the dark.”

The tears she’d been holding back spilled over, and Y/N pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. “That man,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “He’s… God, Jenny, what if I lose him?”

Jenny stepped closer, her grip on Y/N’s arm firm but comforting. “You won’t,” she said softly. “He’s got too much to fight for. For you. For Eliza. He’s going to make it.”

Eliza stirred in Y/N’s arms, her tiny hand brushing against her mother’s cheek. Y/N looked down at her daughter, her chest tightening. “Thank you for calling me,” she said, her voice trembling but sincere. “I—I needed to be here.”

Jenny nodded, a faint smile on her face. “He’d want you here.”

Y/N looked toward the double doors leading to the surgery wing, her heart aching with the weight of the unknown. She kissed Eliza’s temple, holding her daughter close as she whispered, “We’re here, Beau. We’re not going anywhere.”

Jenny studied Y/N with somber regard. “Come on, let’s get you settled. We’re going to be a while.” Kindly, she took the diaper bag to help, and together they moved to a more obscure, comfortable corner of the waiting area. She studied Eliza for a moment, then smiled warmly. “So this is the famous wolf-child.”

Y/N let out a startled laugh, tinged with a sob. “Oh my God… did Beau tell everyone I called her that?”

“It was kind of hard to miss his goofy smiles,” Jenny said with a smile. “He’d come in after one of your dates with this look of… well, the dictionary definition of ‘twitterpated’ comes to mind. Smitten, maybe.”

Y/N sniffled, wiped at her tears, and smiled, picturing the way Beau would look after he kissed her good night. “He… he always seemed like he was very happy when we finished up our dates. Heck, he’d come up with excuses to stay, even if it was to say good night to Eliza.”

Jenny’s eyes sparkled, regarding the fussy toddler. “He cares about you very much,” she said softly. “We could tell. Only one who had any guts to tease him about it was Doris.”

“Oh! The… secretary, right?” Y/N asked, remembering Beau telling her about Doris and how the older woman had performed a Gibbs slap on the back of his head. “Famous lasagna that he absolutely went weak in the knees for?”

Jenny laughed a bit. “That’s the one. She still won’t give us the recipe, so we’re all kissing her feet so we can get some. Beau especially.”

Y/N managed a tremulous smile, thinking of the man she loved— Oh God. Her breath hitched and her chest tightened at the thought of never having the chance to tell him. “Oh God, Jenny…” Tears welled up again.

“Hey… he’ll make it. He’s a tough old bastard,” Jenny said reassuringly.

“I want to believe you,” Y/N said, sniffling and feeling her throat tighten against the rush of more tears. “I just… it… I never even told him.”

“Told him what, honey?” Jenny asked kindly, rubbing Y/N’s shoulder soothingly.

“I never told him I loved him,” Y/N admitted, emotional at the thought of that revelation going unheard and unknown. “And I kept—I kept feeling it in my heart. God. I’d swear I fell in love with him when I s-saw him at the goat pen with Eliza. He was just so good with her. And when he… when he said he thought of her as his… you have no idea. I would’ve said it then and there, but I was just so scared.”

Jenny studied Y/N for a moment, taking in the distress, the way she spoke. Then: “He knew,” she said softly. “I think he knew. You don’t always have to say the words for someone to know. It’s in the way we touch, the way we act, the way we smile.”

Y/N held her daughter closely, lightly bouncing the toddler to get her to go back to sleep. She thought of the life she was holding in her arms, and the newly formed one inside of her, barely weeks old. She stared unseeing at the double doors, and found herself begging Beau to live, to survive, because he had a child that would want to know their daddy.

“W-will you stay with me, Jenny?” Y/N asked, her voice a bare whisper. She didn’t want to face the long wait alone.

“Yes,” Jenny said firmly. “You might have the rest of the sheriff department here in a bit, so trust me… we’ll all be here.”

Absurdly, Y/N gave a start, unaware of the support. “Really?”

Jenny nodded. “When one of us gets hurt, we’re here until we know they make it. All of us. The only reason the rest aren’t here yet is because Poppernak and Jenkins have to make the arrest, the report. The others have to secure the crime scene, take witness statements. But they’ll be here. We never leave one of ours alone if we can help it.”

Jenny let out a breath, glanced at the double doors. “Besides… it’s Beau. He wouldn’t leave us alone either.”

Together, they sat, and waited.

Y/N leaned against the wall of the waiting room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. It wasn’t easy letting her daughter go with her grandmother, but she knew Eliza would be better off away from the sterile halls of the hospital, surrounded by warmth and familiarity. Still, the absence left Y/N feeling untethered, her thoughts circling around Beau.

The sound of voices pulled her attention back to the present. Poppernak was the first to arrive, carrying a paper bag filled with what smelled like burgers. “Figured you two hadn’t eaten,” he said, his easy smile a poor mask for the worry in his eyes.

“Thanks,” Y/N murmured, taking the bag but not feeling hungry. Jenny took one with a muted ‘thanks’.

Jenkins, Morales, and others followed shortly after, their quiet presence filling the room. Morales handed Y/N a steaming cup of coffee. “Jenny said you might need this,” he said, his tone gentle.

Then Doris arrived, carrying a tote bag stuffed with what looked like an entire convenience store aisle. “Snacks,” she announced, setting the bag on the coffee table. “Figured we’d be here a while.”

Y/N managed a small smile, touched by the unexpected camaraderie. The deputies spread out around the room, some sitting, others pacing. Their conversations were low, but their shared worry hung heavy in the air. She found herself wondering if Beau told everyone about her, given how familiar they seemed to be about her.

Jenny Hoyt settled into the chair beside Y/N, glancing at her with a faint smile. “This crew,” she said, gesturing to the deputies, “they’re good people. And they care about Beau.”

“I can see that,” Y/N replied, her voice soft. She glanced at Jenny. “So do you.”

Jenny shrugged, but her expression softened. “Beau’s… he’s a pain sometimes. But he’s a good man. The kind you’d follow into a fire without hesitation.”

Y/N nodded, her chest tightening. “That sounds like him.”

They fell into a companionable silence, interrupted only by the occasional rustle of snack bags or murmured conversations. Doris handed out granola bars and bottles of water, her usual sharp humor muted by the circumstances. Jenkins and Morales spoke in low tones near the window, their expressions grave.

Poppernak glanced at Y/N, his tone gentle. “He’ll pull through. Beau’s the toughest guy I know.”

Y/N nodded, her fingers tightening around the coffee cup. She wanted to believe that, needed to believe it. But the fear gnawed at her, a relentless presence she couldn’t shake.

Time dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. Just when Y/N thought she couldn’t take another second of waiting, the double doors opened. A doctor stepped into the room, his expression professional but kind.

Everyone stilled, the air heavy with anticipation. Y/N rose to her feet, her heart in her throat. “Doctor?” she asked, her voice trembling.

The doctor nodded. “You’re here for Sheriff Arlen?”

“Yes,” Y/N said quickly, the deputies standing with her. They were all there for Beau.

The doctor’s face softened. “He made it through surgery. It was touch and go for a while—he lost a lot of blood—but we were able to stabilize him. He’s in recovery now.”

A collective sigh of relief swept through the room. Y/N felt her knees weaken, and Jenny was there in an instant, steadying her with a hand on her arm.

“Can we see him?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Not yet,” the doctor replied gently. “We’re keeping a close eye on him in recovery. Once he’s stable enough, we’ll move him to a room, and then you can visit.”

Y/N nodded, tears streaming down her face as she whispered, “Thank you.”

The doctor offered a faint smile before stepping away. The room buzzed with quiet relief, the tension easing as the deputies exchanged small smiles and murmured reassurances.

Poppernak clapped a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Told you he’d pull through.”

Y/N laughed softly, the sound shaky but real. “Yeah. You did.”

Jenny squeezed her arm. “He’s a fighter. Always has been.”

Y/N wiped at her tears, her heart feeling a little lighter. “I just need to see him. I need to tell him—” Her voice broke, and she pressed a hand to her mouth, overwhelmed. Did she dare tell him that she was pregnant when he woke up? Or should she wait? Or tell him that she loved him?

“You’ll get the chance,” Jenny said firmly, distracting her from her internal thoughts. “And when you do, he’ll be glad you’re here.”

Y/N nodded, drawing strength from the people around her. As they settled back into their waiting, the relief was palpable. Beau was still fighting, and for now, that was enough.

The waiting room had quieted as time dragged on, the tension gradually replaced by cautious hope. Y/N sat with her hands clasped tightly, her fingers worrying the fabric of her jeans. The low hum of conversation among the deputies filled the space, but she barely heard it. Her focus was on the double doors, waiting for any news.

When a nurse finally came out, Y/N shot to her feet before the woman could even speak. The nurse, a kind-faced woman in her fifties, smiled gently. “Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Yes,” Y/N replied quickly, her heart hammering. “That’s me.”

The nurse nodded. “Sheriff Arlen’s been moved to a private room. He’s still groggy, but he’s stable and awake enough to know you’re here. He’s asked to see you.”

The breath Y/N had been holding rushed out in a shaky exhale. “He… he’s awake?”

The nurse’s smile grew. “Barely, but yes. He perked up when we told him you were waiting.”

Y/N pressed a hand to her chest, overwhelmed by relief and emotion. “Thank you. Can I see him now?”

“Of course. Follow me.” The nurse gestured for her to follow.

Jenny stood, placing a steadying hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “We’ll be here if you need anything.”

Y/N nodded, gratitude shining in her tear-filled eyes. She glanced at the others—Poppernak, Morales, Jenkins, even Doris—all of whom offered encouraging smiles and nods. Drawing a deep breath, she turned and followed the nurse through the double doors.

The walk down the sterile hallway felt endless, each step tightening the knot in her stomach. The nurse stopped outside a room and turned to her. “He’s still recovering, so don’t be alarmed if he looks a little rough. He’s been asking for you, though. I think it’ll do him good to see you.”

Y/N nodded, her throat too tight to speak. The nurse pushed the door open, stepping aside to let her in.

The sight of Beau lying in the hospital bed stole Y/N’s breath. He was pale, his usual tan skin ashen, and there were dark circles under his eyes. His arm was hooked to an IV, and the faint beep of monitors filled the room. Despite his condition, his green eyes fluttered open when she entered, and the faintest smile curved his lips.

“Darlin’…” Beau’s voice was rough, barely above a whisper, but it carried a warmth that made Y/N’s chest ache.

She approached his bedside, her steps tentative at first, then quicker as the tears she’d been holding back spilled over. “Beau,” she said, her voice trembling as she took his hand gently in hers.

He gave her fingers a weak squeeze, his smile growing slightly. “You’re here,” he murmured, his words slurring slightly with exhaustion.

“Of course I’m here,” she replied, her voice thick with emotion. “Where else would I be?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, his hand tightening around hers. “When they told me… you were waitin’… made me fight harder.”

Y/N let out a shaky laugh, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You scared me,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “I thought—” She stopped, unable to finish the sentence.

“I’m here,” Beau said, his voice a little stronger now. “Not goin’ anywhere, darlin’.”

She leaned closer, brushing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “You’d better not,” she whispered. “I’m not ready to lose you.”

Beau’s eyes fluttered open again, meeting hers. Despite his exhaustion, his gaze held the same warmth and strength that had drawn her to him in the first place. “You won’t,” he promised, his voice soft but steady. “I’m too stubborn for that.”

Y/N laughed softly through her tears, her forehead resting lightly against his as she whispered, “I’m holding you to that.”

The nurse cleared her throat gently from the doorway, offering a warm smile. “I’ll give you two some time. Just call if you need anything.”

As the nurse left, Y/N stayed by Beau’s side, her fingers laced with his. She didn’t know what the future held, but at that moment, she was certain of one thing: she wasn’t letting him go.

The steady beeping of the heart monitor filled the quiet room as Beau stirred, his eyes fluttering open again. His gaze landed on Y/N, who was still sitting by his side, her fingers lightly brushing against his. She’d been watching him, her expression soft but lined with worry.

“Hey, darlin’,” Beau rasped, his voice groggy but warm.

Y/N straightened, leaning closer. “Hey, yourself,” she replied softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I wrestled a bull and lost,” he joked weakly, managing a faint smile. “Where’s Eliza?”

Y/N’s brows lifted in surprise at his question. “She’s with my mom,” she said gently. “Eliza wasn’t feeling well, and I thought it’d be better if she stayed with her grandmother while I stayed with you.”

Beau frowned slightly. “Eliza’s sick? She okay?”

“She’s fine,” Y/N reassured him quickly. “Just a little fussy, probably coming down with a cold. Nothing serious.” She paused, her lips twitching into a small smile. “And even if she were feeling a hundred percent, I was worried she might jump on you the second she saw you. You don’t need a toddler climbing on you right now.”

Beau’s smile softened, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Wouldn’t mind,” he murmured. “That kid’s got my heart wrapped around her little finger. She’s somethin’ special.”

Y/N’s heart ached at his words, her throat tightening as she brushed her fingers lightly over the back of his hand. “She thinks the world of you too, Beau,” she said softly. “You mean so much to her.”

“Means a lot to me,” he said, his voice growing quieter as his exhaustion began to creep in again. His eyes drooped, but he kept them on Y/N, his expression tender despite his fading strength. “You both… mean the world to me.”

Y/N felt tears welling in her eyes again, but she blinked them back, squeezing his hand gently. “You rest, okay? We’re not going anywhere.”

Beau’s lips twitched into a faint smile as his eyes fluttered shut. “Love you, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat as his words settled over her. She stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. His breathing evened out as he drifted back into unconsciousness, his hand still loosely clasped in hers.

Tears slid down her cheeks, and she leaned closer, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I love you too, Beau,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “So much.”

The room was quiet save for the rhythmic beeping of the monitor, but Y/N’s heart was full, a mix of overwhelming relief, love, and hope filling the spaces that fear had occupied just hours before.

The hospital room was quiet, the soft glow of dawn filtering through the blinds. Beau stirred, his senses gradually returning as the grogginess of sleep faded. His green eyes blinked open, taking in the room. It was a familiar yet surreal scene, the sterile environment of a hospital. But it was the sight of Y/N that anchored him.

She was partially leaning against his hospital bed, her head resting near his arm, her hand still holding his. Her soft, even breathing told him she’d fallen asleep during the night. Her hair fell in loose waves around her face, and the faint lines of worry that had been etched into her expression seemed to have eased as she slept.

Beau’s heart tightened. Even in her exhaustion, she stayed by his side. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing her shoulder. “Darlin’,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but warm.

Y/N stirred, her lashes fluttering before her eyes slowly opened. She blinked up at him, her expression shifting from disoriented to relieved in an instant. “Beau,” she whispered, sitting up straighter. “You’re awake.”

He smiled faintly, his hand moving to cup hers. “Told you I’m too stubborn to go anywhere.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she let out a shaky laugh. “You scared me half to death.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against her knuckles. “Didn’t mean to worry you.”

She leaned closer, her forehead pressing against his as her tears fell freely. “I’m just so glad you’re okay.”

Beau tilted his head, his lips brushing hers in a tender kiss. It was soft, unhurried, but full of emotion. When they pulled apart, Y/N let out a shaky breath, her hand trembling in his.

He frowned slightly. “What is it, darlin’? You’re shakin’.”

“I…” She hesitated, her eyes dropping to their joined hands. “I wasn’t going to tell you this now. Not while you’re still recovering. But—” Her voice broke, and she looked up, her expression raw and vulnerable. “I can’t keep it in.”

“Y/N,” Beau said gently, his hand tightening around hers. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

She took a deep breath, her free hand pressing against her abdomen almost unconsciously. “I’m pregnant, Beau.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Y/N watched his face, her heart pounding in her chest as she braced for his reaction.

For a moment, Beau just stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then his green eyes softened, and a slow, warm smile spread across his face. “You’re serious?” he asked, his voice filled with wonder.

She nodded, her eyes shimmering with tears. “I found out yesterday. Before Jenny called about you. I was going to wait to tell you, but after everything… I just—I needed you to know.”

Beau let out a soft laugh, his chest rising and falling with the motion. “Well, damn, darlin’,” he murmured, his hand moving to rest gently over hers on her stomach. “You’ve been busy givin’ me a second chance at life in more ways than one.”

Y/N let out a tearful laugh, her head dropping to his chest as she cried softly. “I was so scared,” she admitted. “About how you’d react, about everything. And then when you got hurt… I thought I’d lose you before I could even tell you.”

Beau lifted her chin with his fingers, his eyes locking with hers. “You’re not gonna lose me,” he said firmly. “And as for the baby… Darlin’, there ain’t a thing in this world I could be happier about.”

Tears spilled freely down her cheeks as she kissed him, her heart full to bursting. For the first time in what felt like forever, the fear began to ebb, replaced by something stronger: hope.

Y/N pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against Beau’s as her tears continued to fall. She sniffled, trying to regain control, but the flood of emotions refused to be held back. “I was so scared, Beau,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “We haven’t been together that long… only a few months. I didn’t know how you’d feel about this.”

Beau tilted his head, his green eyes searching hers, his expression soft yet steady. “Darlin’, I’m gonna stop you right there,” he said gently, his voice rough but full of warmth. “Do you really think I’d ever reject you? That I’d push you away because of this?”

She hesitated, biting her lip as she averted her gaze. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “It’s just… everything’s been happening so fast. You already have Emily, and she’s grown. I didn’t know if you’d want to start over again, especially with me.”

Beau reached up, his hand cupping her cheek as he guided her gaze back to him. “Y/N,” he said firmly, his thumb brushing away the tear trailing down her face. “I want you to listen to me real close. There’s not a part of me—no part of my heart, my soul, none of it—that would ever turn away from you. Or from this baby.”

Her breath hitched, and she stared at him, her chest tightening with his words.

“Bein’ a dad again?” he continued, his lips curving into a soft smile. “It’s a blessin’, not a burden. Emily’s my world, and I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to feel this way again. But you’ve given me somethin’ I didn’t think I deserved—a second chance at all of it. At love, at family, at happiness. And I’ll be damned if I ever take that for granted.”

Y/N couldn’t hold back the sob that escaped her, her shoulders shaking as she leaned into him. “I love you, Beau,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “So much.”

He smiled, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I love you too, darlin’. More than I can put into words. You and Eliza, this baby… you’re my world now. And I’m not lettin’ go of that for anythin’.”

Y/N pressed her forehead to his, her tears mingling with her laughter as the weight of her fears finally began to lift. “You’re really okay with this?” she asked, her voice small but hopeful.

“More than okay,” he said, his voice steady. “I’m over the moon, Y/N. This is the best news I’ve had in years.”

She let out a shaky laugh, her hands coming up to frame his face as she kissed him again, deeply and with all the love and relief coursing through her. Beau’s hand moved to her stomach, resting there with a quiet reverence that spoke louder than words.

When they finally pulled back, Beau smiled at her, his green eyes brighter despite the fatigue lining his face. “We’re gonna be just fine,” he murmured. “All of us.”

Y/N nodded, her heart full as she rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. For the first time in days, she allowed herself to believe that everything would be okay.

She felt his hand, warm and solid, on her back, rubbing and soothing her. Then, oh so very softly, she heard a question she never expected to hear: “Darlin’… will ya marry me?"

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2

@foxyjwls007, @katastrophicmind, @globetrotter28, @deansimpalababy, @daisychaingirl

@nancymcl, @deans-baby-momma, @kickingitwithkirk

Want to be a part of this tag list or others? Come check out my master Tag List and sign up! And check out my other stories that are currently being written!

[gece3gibi]

[annazima]

Jensen Ackles

Supernatural / The Boys / Big Sky / Tracker

[beaujensen]

Befuddled in Burgundy Beau | Big Sky 3.02

[justjensenanddean]

Jensen Ackles as Beau Arlen BIG SKY: Deadly Trails (2022) | 3.01 – “Do You Love An Apple”

[avengerdaisy]

Jensen Ackles as Beau Arlen in Big Sky: 3x13 That Old Feeling

[zepskies]

Headcanon: Wearing His Clothes

Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

AN: I haven't done one of these in a while! This one was requested by the lovely @luci-in-trenchcoats. 💜

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Fluff, spiciness/implied smut

Headcanon: How Dean, Beau, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to you (getting caught) wearing his clothes.

Dean Winchester

Ugh, what a cocky SOB. 😆 (And yet, not the cockiest of them all.)

You've been doing it for weeks now, without comment from him.

But every time he sees you in one of his undershirts, getting ready for bed, it's always accompanied by a little once-over. A curve of his lips. A smirk, if you will.

He likes the look of you.

He likes that you're his.

And he likes the fact that you feel comfortable enough to steal his clothes.

He also likes welcoming you into bed next to him, with a hand running up your back, or venturing under whatever undershirt you've decided to slip on to feel the warmth of your skin.

"'S this mine?" he asks. You give him a quirking smile.

"You know it is," you say, with playful challenge.

Dean accepts that with a hum and leans in for a kiss as payment.

Sometimes that one stolen kiss leads to another, simmering with heat. And he’ll take great pleasure in taking back his shirt, casting it to the floor and rolling you underneath him on the bed.

But it doesn't stop at his undershirts. You steal his plaid ones if you want something to comfortably drown in when you're doing research, or just lounging in the bunker. The material is soft from several hundred washes. (The red and black one is one of your favorites.)

Rare though it is for him to wear hoodies, it's rarer still, because Dean can never even find one in his side of the dresser.

That's because you're keeping it hostage on your side, buried under your lingerie. (Even if he tried to find the hoodie, odds are he’ll get distracted.)

It gets to the point where he can hardly find anything of his.

His brows furrow as he rucks through his drawers for something clean to wear, while clad in only his most threadbare sweatpants.

"Damn it, woman. Where are my shirts?" he grouses.

You bite your lip and pretend to keep reading your book. You're already safe in bed, covered up to your chest by the blankets.

"I don't know. Have you done your laundry?" you ask, smiling to yourself. Dean catches you, with a suspicious brow raise.

He climbs into bed and snatches the covers away from you. You yelp at the suddenness and try to grab at them, but it's too late.

He discovers that you're wearing one of his newer shirts, which he had to buy to replace the ones he just can't seem to find.

"Are you kidding me? This is Theft in the First goddamn Degree!" he exclaims, even though he's close to laughing at the way you're already giggling. He manages to pin you underneath him on the bed, and he has half a mind to take this shirt back as well, by whatever means necessary.

And yes, tickling is one of those means.

"Sweetheart, for the love of God. Why do you keep taking my shit?" he asks, in a way that's half-serious in his frustration, but also half-teasing.

You shrug shamelessly, still smiling. You run your hands up his bare arms and shoulders, and back down his chest.

"I don't know. It's comfortable," you say. But your eyes lower as your face begins to warm with a blush. "Makes me feel safe...like you're always with me."

At that, the tension in Dean's shoulders eases. His smile can't help but soften around the edges as he looks down on you, now with fondness. After a while, he lets out a deep sigh.

"All right," he says.

You grin, because you know he's given up. You lean up for a kiss that successfully distracts him.

Dean still gets annoyed sometimes when he can't find a specific item of clothing in his drawer, but now, all he has to do is go over to your side of the dresser.

There he knows he'll eventually find what he's looking for.

Beau Arlen

Heh, in this episode of “Whose Hat is it Anyway”...

Beau's wardrobe reminds you of a cowboy in modern times.

Lots of browns and beiges, lots of slacks and buttoned-down shirts tucked in with an army of belts to choose from (even though the man only owns a few pairs of boots). Not to mention a slew of jackets that often pull the look together.

But being that he's new to Montana (specifically, Montana winters), you like to buy him sweaters. Cable-knits and soft ones in earth tones that you think bring out his eyes.

Beau accepts whatever you get him and graciously wears them. He trusts your judgment on what looks good on him, and he appreciates the way you think of him.

It's just one of those ways, however small, that you show that you care and that you're looking out for him.

One night while he's working late, however, you find yourself trying to reorganize the closet. The man is "organized chaos" at best, and you find one of his sweaters on the floor. It's a nice burgundy one that you bought him recently.

Ooh, so soft, you think, while feeling the fabric between your fingers.

You don't know what possesses you, but you decide to slip out of your pajamas and try it on yourself.

SO damn soft, you realize, as you practically drown in the sweater. It hangs about to mid-thigh.

Then you see one of his beige Stetsons hanging on the wall. A sneaking smile curves your lips, before you slip on his hat.

To complete the ensemble, you dig into the recesses of your closet and find a pair of your old cowboy boots. You go out into the bedroom and check yourself out in the mirror with a growing smirk.

"Hey there, darlin'," you try to impersonate your boyfriend's subtle Texan twang, and even his mannerisms by winking at yourself, tipping the hat forward.

You giggle at your own silliness in this moment, but alone in your own house, who freakin' cares? You should feel free to dance naked through the whole damn place if you feel like it.

So you spin on your heel and do a little twirl in your boots.

"Who's the sheriff now, huh?" You mime a pair of guns with your hands and shoot at your reflection. "Psh, psh!"

But that's when you catch sight of one Beau Arlen, leaning against the bedroom doorway with his arms crossed. An amused grin is plastered to his face.

You freeze in shock, still with your "gun hands" held up.

"Oh, don't stop the show on my account," Beau says slyly. He gestures at you. "Please, continue."

Your hot blush spreads from your cheeks and quickly begins to travel down your neck. "Uh...I was just...you know, cleaning the closet. You're very messy, you know!"

Beau snorts and draws closer. Those green eyes of his take in the full sight of you, down your bare thighs and cowboy boots, and back up to your embarrassed face. You bite your bottom lip on reflex.

"You know, I like what you got goin' on here," he says, waving a hand down your form. "But it's just...it's missing something."

He takes his badge with the gold star off his belt and pins it to your sweater.

"There you go. Perfect fit," he says, even as his hand slides up the slope of your back. You find yourself pulled further into his orbit as you try (and fail) to stamp down a smile.

"You're late, you know," you remind him. Beau bows his head and presses a kiss into your neck. You feel his smirk there.

"I'm sorry, Sheriff. Gonna arrest me, or let me off with a warning?" he teases. His other hand comes up to adjust the hat on your head. You smirk and cling to his arms over his dark brown jacket. It's one of his nicer ones.

"I think I can let you off," you play along. You lean up to skim your lips across his cheek, and closer to his ear. "But only for good behavior."

He has to chuckle then. "I can accept those terms..."

Beau's hands slip under your stolen sweater and begin to slide it up your body, inch by inch.

"Though I'm gonna need you to keep the boots on," he says lowly, just before he claims you with a searing kiss.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Oh, here we go. 😅

As with most things, it's a point of pride for Ben.

He'd prefer you be too fucked out to move, let alone put on clothes after he's finished with you.

On the rare occasion that your body doesn't feel too much like warm molasses after a few hot rounds with your boyfriend, you like to at least grab one of his discarded shirts to cover yourself.

If he still has energy, he'll take that as a challenge. He'll try to slip his hands underneath whatever shirt you've found and divest you of it, so he can start devouring you again.

However. Ben does like seeing you in his clothes, in a possessive, claiming way.

There are days when you just want to be swallowed up in one of his large, comfortable shirts as you lounge about the house.

Ben sometimes watches you putter around, cleaning, working, cooking, reading, or watching TV in nothing but his clothes. He wonders if you're even wearing panties. You could be bare faced with a severe case of bed head, but his eyes will still occasionally follow you.

His expression doesn't reveal too much, but he likes it. (And because you know him, you know it too.)

Maybe he'll catch you as you pass by, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. You startle with a yelp, but then you grab onto his arms and smile.

"Can I help you, sir?" you tease.

"Think you can just walk by me, looking sexy as fuck?" he remarks. He steals a slow, thorough kiss. You cup his face and bring him back in for more, tenderly stroking his cheek.

"You know why I like wearing your stuff?" you ask. Your smile hints at teasing.

Ben arches a brow. "Why?"

"Because it keeps you looking," you reply. And you reach a hand around to slap his ass, for good measure.

Then you saunter away from him to get back to what you were doing.

Or at least, you try to.

Ben grabs your hand and pulls you back towards him, back into the cage of his arms, where he falls back into the trap you've so often laid. And he finishes what you started.

AN: Well, then. 😂 I hope you guys enjoy this! Who had your favorite reaction: Dean, Beau, or Ben? 😘

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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Main Masterlist

Dean, Beau + Soldier Boy Tag List (Part 1)

@melancholictearz @spnwoman @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @rizlowwritessortof @anticxrrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky

@teehxk @midnightmadwoman @agalliasi @venicesem @deans-spinster-witch

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@xxlaynaxx @beskarfilms @tmb510 @iamsapphine @roseblue373

@lacilou @jackles010378 @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse

[figthoughts]

helping beau relax after a stressful day at work

— smut, est. relationship. (beau x gf!reader) 18+

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

imagine beau getting home to your apartment after a long day, a deep sigh rumbling from his chest as he sits down on the couch, almost defeatedly.

“what’s wrong, my love?” you ask, seeing the exhaustion etched on his face, taking a seat beside him.

“just a long day, darlin’. don’t worry about it,” he replies, pulling you into his arms, caging you against his chest.

“you say that, but i do worry. i care about you, beau,” you smile, searching his eyes as the soft-spoken words leave your lips. you plant a tender little kiss on his cheek.

he hums with a tired smile as you plant another kiss. and another. and another. you kiss your way along his bearded jaw, your lips eventually finding his.

beau kisses you back lazily, letting his eyes flutter shut as his body melts into the couch, but as you slip your leg over his thighs and settle in his lap, it’s like a flip switches. he kisses you back hard, with a desperate intensity to it.

“so tired,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling at your shirt, “just been wanting to come home and see you. more than anything, darlin’.”

you sense the emotion behind his words; you can tell he’s had a rough day. you know he needs a little lovin’ right now.

you let him slip off your shirt, his mouth attaching itself to your neck, sucking and biting at your skin gently. he pulls at your bra straps and you nod, giving him permission to continue undressing you.

he pulls the rest of your clothes off, along with his, with such reverence in his gaze as he looks at you. his eyes widen as you settle in front of him on the floor.

“oh, sweetheart. you don’t have to do that, you’ve worked all day too,” he breathes out, his fingers tenderly pushing back some hair from your face.

“don’t have to, want to,” you correct him, taking him in your hand, your eyes locked on his.

he gasps at your soft hand wrapping around his cock and the shivers that run down his spine as you begin to pump him. you watch his shoulders begin to relax and the tense expression on his face slowly disappear.

“mmm, are— are you sure?” he asks again, his tone lazy and tired, his southern drawl coming out a little.

“positive,” you reaffirm.

beau rocks his hips a little as you pump his hardening cock, quiet and needy moans falling from his lips.

“ahhh… sweetheart, that feels so good…” he coos lovingly, watching you from the couch in awe.

you smile up at him, watching him through your lashes, enjoying his gaze that’s so full of love and affection.

as you take his hardened cock into your mouth, a deep moan erupts from his chest. beau’s hand comes to rest on your head, not guiding your movements by any means, but just out of desperation to touch you, to have the comfort of your body against his, even in that small insignificant way.

you bob your head up and down his length, your tongue swirling over his sensitive tip, tasting his precum as he watches you in a mixture of adoration and fascination.

“fuck, darlin’. feels so good. you look so beautiful like this,” he mutters, his free hand gripping the couch.

you hum around his cock, enjoying how the vibrations make beau’s hips jerk up towards you.

deep and strangled groans fall out of beau’s mouth as he gets closer, twitching against your tongue. you grab the base of his cock, jerking off what you can’t fit in.

beau bites at his bottom lip, trying to stifle his moans as they get louder. his grip in your hair gets a little tighter, now guiding you along his member. you let him, seeing the neediness and exhaustion still haunting his features.

“ahhh… oh, god— mmm, feels so good. don’t stop, baby…. please…” he whines out, his eyes locked on you.

you bat your lashes up at him, moving up ‘n down his thick cock faster, your hand still wrapped around his base.

he whimpers as he fights off finishing right there in your mouth, “ahh ahh, darlin’…. w-where?”

you look into his desperate eyes as you pull him out of your mouth with a ‘pop’, your hand still jerking his sensitive pretty pink cock. you stick your tongue out and open your mouth, answering his question.

he nods in response and grabs ahold of his length, jerking himself off quickly, “fuck, darlin’… gonna cum in that pretty mouth of yours…” he grunts out, hisses and groans flying past his lips.

he lets out a deep pathetic moan as he finishes, his warm ropes of cum covering your lips and tongue as he milks his cock for every last drop.

your eyes stay locked on his as he shoots his load into your mouth. a small smile grows on your face as he slumps back into the couch, a tired but satisfied look on his face, “oh, jesus. baby, you’re so—” he shakes his head, unable to find the words to describe how strong his love for you is.

you obediently swallow, wiping the drops above and below your lips into your mouth, your tongue teasingly wrapping around the tip of your finger. beau groans again, watching you tease him as you swallow his cum.

“so damn beautiful,” he comments, “thank you, babygirl. i— i really needed that.”

you nod, shifting on your knees in front of him with a smile. you tilt your head and look at him as he smiles back at you, “i know. you looked like you needed it, baby.”

he hums again, watching you crawl back up onto his lap. his hands find their way to your waist, “is it my turn to make you feel good now, my darlin’? i’m dying to return the favour.”

you smile widely and shrug trying to play coy, but the excited squeal that escapes your lips as beau pins you down against the couch gives away just how eager you are.

A/N: first time writing for beau !!! the daddy issues in me are SCREAMING for a piece of him like actually it’s so bad.

requests and feedback are welcome!! reblogs are appreciated!! thank youuuu!!!

✩ taglist: @chevroletdean @fitxgrld @jasvtsc @bluestrd @1-imbroglio @titsout4nicholas @faithfulsofi @tortureddarkstar @abellmunsonmovie @atenea585 @theoneandonlystonedspiderman420 @manicjk @aileenunfiltered @minettacreekk @jackleslvr @winchester-whiskey @artyandink @emeraldcrs @freyabear @a1ecmcdowell @cosmopolitan-thedrink @jwritestuff @suhnisideup @spookyysinsanity

↑ comment to be added!

[lightdancingwords]

Second Chances - Part Eight of ?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N Female reader Series Summary: A chance meeting in a grocery store brings a second chance for you and for Beau. The only thing standing in your way are your respective pasts... and a tiny little roadblock. Word Count: 3,040 Tags/Warnings: Not really. Other than mention of injury, recovery in a hospital, and of course, toddler, parent/family. A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! I couldn't resist--I gotta have me some Beau while writing Dean! This is a brand new story of Beau and female reader! Divider: credit to @sweetmelodygraphics

Chapter Eight: Aftermath

Beau swung his legs off the hospital bed slowly, a sharp tug of pain pulling at his side. His hand instinctively moved to his stomach, his fingers brushing against the edge of the bandage beneath his shirt. He winced but forced a small smile in Y/N’s direction as she stood by, watching him with a mixture of concern and readiness to help.

“Easy there, cowboy,” she murmured, stepping closer. “You don’t have to rush.”

Beau grunted, sitting upright fully and gripping the bed rail for support. “If I move any slower, darlin’, I’ll fossilize right here.”

Y/N’s lips twitched, but her amusement was fleeting. She placed a hand on his arm, her touch steadying. “You’re not in this alone, Beau. Lean on me, okay?”

Her words carried more than just their immediate meaning, and Beau looked up at her, his green eyes softening. “I know,” he said quietly. “Thanks, darlin’.”

A nurse appeared at the doorway, carrying a clipboard and Beau’s discharge papers. “Sheriff Arlen,” she began with a friendly but professional tone, “we’re all set. Just make sure to follow these instructions to the letter, alright? No heavy lifting, lots of rest, and keep an eye on that wound for any signs of infection. And if you have even the slightest concern, call us.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Beau replied with a faint grin, though the weight of the restrictions gnawed at him. “No rodeo stunts. Got it.”

Y/N chuckled, taking the clipboard from the nurse. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he behaves.”

The nurse smiled knowingly. “Good. He’s lucky to have you.” She handed Beau a plastic bag containing a few essentials from his stay—a water bottle, the socks they gave him, and his wallet. “Take care, Sheriff.”

Beau gave a small nod, though he leaned heavily on Y/N as he stood, his strength not what it usually was. She wrapped an arm around his waist, careful not to press against his injury. “Alright, big guy,” she said softly. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Beau sighed heavily as the nurse wheeled him down the hospital hallway, the faint squeak of the wheelchair’s wheels echoing in the otherwise quiet space. Hospital policy, they said. Nobody walks out of recovery under their own power. He supposed it made sense, but that didn’t make it any less humiliating.

“Darlin’, you sure this is necessary?” he grumbled, glancing up at Y/N, who walked alongside him.

She shot him a look, her lips twitching with suppressed amusement. “It’s policy, Beau. Besides, I think you look rather distinguished.”

“Distinguished, huh?” He snorted, shaking his head. “More like decrepit.”

The nurse chuckled behind him. “It’s better than falling in the parking lot. Let’s save your dignity, Sheriff.”

Beau muttered something under his breath but didn’t argue further. He adjusted the strap of the duffle bag Y/N had slung over the wheelchair’s handles. She’d gone to his place earlier that day, gathering essentials for his stay at her home—a task he hadn’t been thrilled about but couldn’t bring himself to argue against.

“You got everything I need in there?” he asked, glancing back at her.

“Shirt, jeans, socks, your favorite flannel, deodorant, your bath stuff, and a toothbrush,” Y/N listed off. “Oh, and I grabbed your boots, too. Hope you don’t mind, but I might’ve done a little cleaning while I was there. I couldn’t help myself.”

Beau raised a brow. “Cleanin’? What’d you do?”

“Just tidied up. Tossed some expired food in the fridge. Nothing major,” she said, shrugging. “I thought you might appreciate coming home to less of a mess when you’re feeling better.”

He smiled faintly, the warmth of her thoughtfulness easing the sting of his current predicament. “Thanks, darlin’. I appreciate it.”

The nurse stopped at the automatic doors leading to the hospital parking lot. Y/N moved ahead, pulling open the passenger door of her car and adjusting the seat to make it easier for Beau to climb in. She returned to the wheelchair just as the nurse set the brakes.

“Alright, Sheriff,” the nurse said, her tone friendly but firm. “Slow and steady. Don’t push it.”

“I hear ya,” Beau replied, gripping the armrests as he began to stand. Pain lanced through his abdomen, sharp and immediate, but he bit back the grunt that rose in his throat. Y/N was instantly at his side, one hand on his arm, the other lightly resting on his back.

“Easy,” she murmured, her voice soft but steady. “We’re not in a hurry.”

He leaned into her support, taking the short steps to the car with care. Once he was seated, she buckled him in, her movements efficient but gentle. “Comfy?” she asked, tilting her head to meet his eyes.

“As comfy as I’m gonna get,” he said, a faint grin tugging at his lips.

Y/N kissed his forehead briefly before closing the door and moving to speak with the nurse. Beau watched her through the window, her focus sharp and determined as she listened to the nurse’s parting instructions. She really was something else—fierce and kind, with a quiet strength that had him falling for her harder every day.

When she slid into the driver’s seat, she glanced at him. “Ready to go home?”

“Darlin’,” he said, his voice soft, “I think I’ve already found home.”

She smiled, her cheeks flushing as she started the car. The ride back to her house was quiet, the hum of the engine soothing as the late afternoon sun bathed the Montana landscape in golden light. Y/N had turned the radio to a low volume, the gentle strumming of a country ballad filling the space between them.

When they pulled into her driveway, Y/N wasted no time coming around to help him out of the car. Despite the pain and the limitations of his condition, Beau couldn’t help but feel a swell of gratitude as she supported him. She was taking him in, making him a part of her world—and he’d never felt more cared for.

As they approached the front door, Y/N glanced at him with a teasing smile. “Ready to meet Nurse Eliza?”

Beau chuckled, his hand brushing against hers. “Darlin’, I think I’m gonna be the luckiest patient she’s ever had.”

Beau’s boots scuffed lightly against the hardwood as Y/N helped him into the house, the faint scent of lavender and something freshly baked welcoming him. He straightened slightly, his hand still resting lightly on her arm, and let his gaze sweep the cozy space. It was warm, inviting, and unmistakably hers—soft blankets draped over the couch, a basket of Eliza’s toys tucked neatly in the corner, and a vase of fresh flowers on the kitchen counter.

Y/N’s mother, Margaret, looked up from where she was sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in her hand. Eliza was seated in her high chair nearby, happily munching on bits of cut-up fruit. The little girl’s face lit up when she saw Beau.

“Bo-Bo!” Eliza squealed, her tiny fists waving in excitement.

Beau grinned, his heart swelling despite the ache in his stomach. “Hey there, wolf-child,” he greeted softly. He glanced at Margaret, tipping his hat—or what would’ve been his hat if he weren’t recovering. “Ma’am.”

Margaret rose, her sharp eyes sweeping over him with an appraising look. “Sheriff Arlen,” she said warmly. “Glad to see you on your feet. Though I hear you’re supposed to stay off them as much as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Beau replied, his voice tinged with humor. “You and Y/N have got me outnumbered on that front.”

Margaret smiled knowingly, gesturing to the couch. “Why don’t you sit down before you overdo it?”

Beau nodded, letting Y/N guide him to the couch. As soon as he was settled, Eliza started wiggling in her high chair, clearly eager to get to him.

“Hold your horses, darlin’,” Beau said gently. “Doctor says no heavy lifting, remember?”

Eliza frowned, her little brows knitting together in frustration, but she settled when Y/N scooped her up and brought her over. Sitting on her mother’s lap, Eliza reached out to pat Beau’s arm.

“Bo-Bo better?” she asked, her voice full of concern.

Beau’s grin softened. “Workin’ on it, kiddo. You just keep being my nurse, and I’ll be good as new.”

Margaret chuckled from the kitchen. “She’s been talking about you all day,” she said, pouring another cup of tea. “You’ve made quite the impression.”

Beau leaned back against the cushions, his smile widening. “Well, she’s got a way of makin’ herself unforgettable.”

Y/N sat down beside him, Eliza still in her lap, and gave him a knowing look. “She gets it from her mom.”

He chuckled, his hand brushing lightly against hers where it rested on the armrest. The brief touch was enough to send a warm pulse through him—a reminder of all they’d shared over the past few days.

They’d agreed earlier the morning after his surgery, during a quiet moment in his hospital room, to put the question of marriage on hold. There was already so much to process—his recovery, her pregnancy, and the whirlwind of emotions that had come with their declarations of love. He didn’t want to pressure her, and she didn’t want to make a decision with so much still unsettled.

“You’re sure you’re okay with waiting?” she’d asked him, her voice hesitant but hopeful.

“Darlin’,” he’d said, taking her hand in his. “The last thing I want is to make you feel rushed or overwhelmed. We’ve got all the time in the world. As long as we’re together, that’s what matters.”

Now, sitting in her home, surrounded by the life she’d built, Beau felt that truth settle even deeper. He had no doubts about wanting to spend his life with her, but he also knew that patience was its own kind of love—a willingness to give her the space she needed.

Margaret approached, setting a plate of cookies on the coffee table. “You’ll stay here while you recover,” she said matter-of-factly, though her tone was warm. “Y/N’s already got everything set up, and I’ll help with Eliza as long as you need.”

Beau tipped his head. “Thank you, ma’am. Means a lot.”

Margaret smiled, her sharp gaze softening. “You’re family now, Beau. That’s what we do.”

The words settled over him, bringing with them a sense of belonging he hadn’t felt in years. He glanced at Y/N, whose lips curved into a soft smile, her eyes meeting his with a quiet understanding.

“Looks like you’re stuck with us,” she teased lightly, though her voice carried a note of something deeper.

“Darlin’,” Beau replied, his voice low and full of warmth, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Eliza babbled something incomprehensible, her tiny hand reaching out to pat his arm again. Beau chuckled, his free hand covering hers as he leaned back into the couch, content for the first time in a long while.

Whatever challenges lay ahead, he knew they’d face them together. And for now, that was more than enough.

While Beau was resting in bed, the combination of pain killers and recovery wearing him out, Y/N was preparing dinner while her mother tended to Eliza. As she was chopping up vegetables for beef stew, Margaret kept glancing over at Y/N.

“Out with it, little girl,” Margaret said at last. She knew her daughter well, well enough to know something was bothering her.

Y/N sighed, her hand stilling for a moment. “I’m pregnant,” she said at last.

Margaret straightened, and Eliza began bonking toys together, enjoying the chaos of smashing pretend buildings. “Oh.”

Y/N cringed. She knew that tone. “We… we were careful, mom. Doubly careful. But it still happened anyway.”

“I didn’t say anything, Y/N,” her mother said gently.

She let out a breath. “I’m sorry, mom.” She turned to face her mother, tears shimmering in her eyes. “It’s just…” She cleared her throat. “I’m scared. So much has happened. Beau knows and he’s over the moon, but I’m scared.”

“Didn’t you tell me he proposed?” Margaret asked, trying to get to the root of her daughter’s fears.

“Yes. A-and…” Y/N pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her heart ache. “I love him. He loves me. So I don’t… I don’t know why I’m so scared.”

“Y/N,” Margaret said softly, motherly, pulling Y/N into a comforting hug. “You just had a lot dumped on you at once. You just discovered you were pregnant and Beau was shot the same day. Not 24 hours later, you two told each other your I love yous and then he proposed. You barely had a chance to process everything.”

Y/N let out a stifled sob and clung to her mother. Y/N might have been an adult, a mother herself, but in that moment, she was so glad she had her mother to lean on. “I thought I was going to lose him,” she whispered, her voice tinged with tears. “When I got that phone call… oh God, mom…”

“You have your second chance, my darling girl. He’s alive. He loves you. He wants to be your husband, father to your children. He adores Eliza.”

“I wasn’t prepared to start dating again,” Y/N whispered, her tears beginning to stop. She wiped them away and reluctantly pulled out of her mother’s embrace. “And then he just… God, mom. When I met him, he just walked right in and stole my heart when I wasn’t looking.”

“You told me he asked you for permission to approach Eliza,” Margaret said, phrasing as a question.

“Yeah, he did.”

“And you said he asked you permission to kiss you. Several times.”

“Yeah…” Y/N breathed, her heart swelling with love as she remembered those moments. “He did.”

“And when you told him you were pregnant… how did he react?”

Y/N thought back to that moment, the slow joy that spread over his face. “He was happy.”

Margaret regarded her daughter for a long moment, hands on her shoulders. “Y/N, my dear, my darling daughter… do you love that man?”

There was a rush of emotion, a swelling of her heart. “God yes, I do.”

“Then, Y/N,” Margaret said, gently touching her daughter’s cheek. “Go tell him.”

“But— Dinner—”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Margaret scooped up Eliza and put her back in the high chair before handing the toddler some toys to keep her busy. “I’ll take over. Go.” Margaret nudged Y/N with her hip. “Take as long as you need.”

Y/N glanced at her mother, gave Margaret a fierce hug, and then went to the bedroom, to talk to the man she loved.

Beau had been napping. Despite the ache of his stomach wound, he managed to doze for a little while. When he heard the door creak open, it stirred him out of his rest. He made a low sound, squinted against the light.

“Darlin’?”

“Yes, it’s me,” she said quietly, closing the door behind her. She headed over to him and sat at the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?”

“I’ll be okay,” he murmured, reaching to take her hand. “You’re here.”

He dimly saw her smile. “Charmer.”

“I mean it, darlin’,” he said, his voice low and soft. “This? It don’t get any better than this.”

“It can, though,” she said, her voice shaky.

He furrowed his brow. “Darlin’?”

“Beau… ask me again,” she urged.

It took him a moment to realize what she was saying. “Let me…” Beau tried to sit up, grimaced, and laid back down. “Shit, darlin’, I can’t ask you lyin’ down.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Darlin’.” His firm tone stopped her. “Let me ask ya the way I want to… please.”

She nodded, reached to help him sit up. His stomach was killing him when he was finally sitting up, pain vibrating throughout his core. He felt sweat bead on his forehead and he was breathing heavily. Y/N regarded him with concern in her gaze.

“I’m all right, darlin’,” he said at last, touching her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. His heart skipped a beat. God, he loved her so much. “Ya know… it was how you handled your daughter that day in the grocery store.”

“What about it?” she asked, puzzled.

“That got me to fall in love with you,” he said, his voice low and steady.

“Beau.” Her breath caught in the whisper of his name.

“It was. The remark about her havin’ her own wolf pack, being a wolf-child,” he continued. “God, it just killed me. I remembered thinkin’… here’s a momma that cared about her kid. Loved her kid. And I respected that so much.”

“You were in love with me even then?”

“It was the beginnin’,” he confirmed. “And every time I saw you… I just knew. God, darlin’, I just knew.”

He saw tears form in her eyes, shimmering. “Darlin’, don’t cry…”

“N-no. I’m not… I’m not upset.” She let out a half-laugh, emotional. “God, Beau Arlen, you just make it impossible not to fall in love with you all over again.”

Beau reached to brush away a tear with his thumb. “I love you so much, darlin’. You and Eliza… I wanna make ya mine.” He searched her eyes, his green ones full of love. “Y/N… will ya make me the luckiest man alive and be my wife? Be the mother of my children? Be the love of my life?”

Y/N let out a teary sound and nodded, her smile wide and overjoyed. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes!”

He pulled her into a fierce embrace, holding her close as he felt his emotions overwhelm. “God, darlin’, I love you so damned much.” He kissed her, sweet and tender, and whispered to her lips, “And once the doctor clears me for it, darlin’… I’m gonna show you. I’m goin’ make love to you all day, I swear.”

She let out a laugh, tinged with happy tears. “Beau… that’s not necessary. I know you love me. I know you love us.”

“I do, darlin’,” he said, placing a hand over her stomach, imagining the little life growing inside her. “The family you’re givin’ me. The family we’re gonna make together. I love you.”

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[kwistowee]

#freckles JENSEN ACKLES as BEAU ARLEN BIG SKY | 2.18

[beaudeanw]

Jensen Ackles + fight scenes

[simply-beautiful-world]